… Blame Neko.

Turns out, the Godhead reads the blog. And it’s all her fault ^*

Whether he knows he’s called the Godhead is debatable, but he’s a clever chap. Chances are he’ll work it out ^**

Quite why the thought of my ex-supervisor reading my blog freaks me out more than the knowledge that both my father and brother read my blog, I’m not sure, but freak the crap out of me it does.

Just thought I’d write this post so you know who to go pelt with rotten eggs when I don’t post for ever more because I’m all intimidated 😛

^* Well, I’m pretty sure I never gave him the URL, so yes, I shall blame her. In a friendly way 😀
^** Especially after this post!

Keeping with a long and cherished blog tradition, I’ve been out to play, so now I have to write my drunken blog post.

Well, not exactly drunken. More “feet hurt, eyes sore from the smoke, all jazzed up and buzzing from the music and dancing” blog post. Same effect, less liver damage.

I hadn’t been out in a fair while (at least a month) due to my insanely busy October, but this weekend was reserved a long time ago by illyna to get me out to play – once the sophisticated dinner party with the Divine M fell through ( 🙁 – but only postponed till next week – 😀 ) the way was clear for her to kidnap me. Rarely has there been a more willing kidnap victim.

There’s really not alot else to say really. The company was good. The dancing was fun. Sadly the music wasn’t at it’s best (we’re working on the hypothesis that it was the relief DJ). But it was still… fun. It’s always good to let my hair down, especially as I don’t get to do it enough 🙁

I was trying to describe the Dungeon to my work colleagues (as if the fact the place is called the Dungeon isn’t clue enough) and why I like going there so much. It’s not just that I like the music – in fact I rarely listen to the heavy rock/metal/goth/who-knows-what that is played there, apart from when I’m there. Whilst I do enjoy what they play, it’s more the atmosphere. Some people find the idea of the place intimidating. Instead you can be guaranteed that no matter what you are wearing and how you dance, someone will be dressed weirder/worse and be dancing far worse. More to the point, no one cares. I had a lovely conversation with someone in the ladies this evening, all because I leant her my eyeliner (if ever there was a group of people that kept Rimmel in business with black eyeliner it’s the clientele of the Dungeon). I even got a random compliment on my sparkly top.

As I said, friendly. It may be a bit of a seedy dive, but I will always have a place in my heart for the Dungeon. And on that note, I’m off to sleep the sleep of the tired 🙂

I apologize for another breast-related post, but what is the fascination that popcorn has with my cleavage?

So it’s not just popcorn that ends up down my top with monotonous regularity – since the time Damien through a pen lid down from twenty paces in the library at college, things have had a tendency to find their way where they weren’t meant to be – but popcorn is the worst offender.

Popcorn and little teeny flaky bits of chocolate you don’t notice till later on after an important meeting with the boss.

*grumble*

Because y’all seem to be laboring under the misapprehension that I’m a wonderful person…

1. I hog the duvet. I’m a little person, but I do like to be warm. I never did learn to share nicely…
2. I drink orange juice straight from the carton. To be fair, I don’t do this when it’s communal orange juice but when I know it’s just me who’s going to be drinking it, why make extra washing up?
3. I molt. A lot. Get used to your friends thinking you own a very hairy dog/cat/pet.
4. I will refuse to get out of bed till you’ve brought me a cup of tea. I’m perfectly capable of getting up and making it myself, but why should I stir from my warm cocoon if there’s someone else to do it for me?
5. I have an appalling taste in music. I gleefully listen to 5ive and Shakira at full blast.
6. I have a habit of listening to just one or two tracks on a loop throughout the day. I normally only do this for the first few days I own a new track/cd, but it can get a bit wearing.
7. Interrupt me when I’m deep in a book and you are likely to get glared at. If I don’t just ignore you.
8. Hell hath no fury like a Cas rushed. Don’t try and do it – all that will happen is I’ll get grumpy and you’ll get something thrown at you.
9. Be prepared to always be 30 minutes early for everything. See previous point regarding rushing – I also hate to be late. I like to know there’s time built into the itinerary just in case anything happens, like a herd of stampeding penguins disrupts traffic or something. Well, it could happen.
10. I will loudly point out any and all factual errors in archaeological programs and films. Do not sit through The Mummy with me unless you’ve come prepared with a gag.
11. Don’t get me started on how Indiana Jones isn’t really an Archaeologist…
12. And mentioning Time Team is only recommended if you want to commit suicide.
13. They may just be earrings to you, but to me they are armor. Like Samson without his hair, take my earrings from me and I am nothing.
14. I’m freakishly insecure.
15. I have the memory retention of a brain injured goldfish.
16. To my credit I’m aware of this, so will constantly ask you to “remind me about this…”
17. Invariably the one thing you’ve forgotten to remind me about, will be the one thing I remember. I will, of course, then ask you why you never reminded me about it.
18. I don’t let people in.
19. Don’t leave the toilet seat up. Just don’t, ok?
20. If you ask my opinion on something, you will get my opinion. I’m not known for my ability to sugar coat things. I’m sorry if I made you cry, but you did ask.
21. I am inherently lazy. Unless you give me a good reason I will likely just pootle around the house all day in my PJs.
22. I’m noisy. Stealth is not in my makeup anywhere.
23. Heaven help you if you wake me up. If you must wake me up, make sure that nice warm cup of tea in your hand is the first thing I see when I open my eyes.
24. I can’t stand Marmite.
25. Or mushrooms.
26. Stupid people annoy me. I know I should have more patience, but I just don’t.
27. I find most things funny. I can see the humour even in the normally serious stuff. I think this is a good thing, but it does annoy and confuse some people.
28. I’m the blondest brunette you’re likely to meet in a while. There’s a brain in there somewhere, it just has a tendency to hide.
29. I can’t take a compliment.
30. I treat my life like one big joke but really, it’s not.
31. I have my butter with toast, not the other way around.
32. I have a tendency to make people spend lots more money than they planned on when they go shopping with me.
33. I’m a nightmare to shop with – I know exactly what I want and refuse to compromise.
34. I hate crowds.
35. And I’m crap at keeping in touch with people.

Yes, I’m a bad person. Still think I’m cute?

It’s not every essay you get to write the line “Carter is using the language of sex, domination and cruelty”. Or talk about how the pure virgin snow is just begging to be sullied and trampled upon.

*takes brain out the back and subjects it to a mercy killing*

I should be able to think of snow without having to wash my brain out afterward!

Have I mentioned lately how I loathe violently feminist literature and that I hate how I am forced to write such lines?

Unfortunately, when you’re discussing Angela Carter and have an essay question like “In what ways does Carter use language to present male and female in ‘The Snow Child’?” you kind of have to talk about violation, virile members, and all other icky stuff that I really don’t want to have to discuss in class thank you very much.

I’m clearly a post-feminist in that I actually like men. Oh, for the question “Carter’s feminist stance is as applicable in 2006 as it was in the 1970’s when she wrote – discuss”.

*grumble, grumble*

Back to my essay. 661 words at the last count and that’s not even proper sentences. Bloody 500-word-limit. *grumble part 2*

*EDIT* Clearly also post-feminist in that I can’t spell.

Just to let you know I’m off for the weekend – I expect to be back late afternoon/early evening on Sunday, so whether there will be a Roast or not is 50/50.

If you need to get hold of me and are one of the lucky few who have my mobile number, use that. If not send me an email and I *will* respond when I get home 🙂

Have fun with your own weekends. Toodles.