Ok, I have come to the decision that I deserve to die the crazy old cat lady and be found a week later, mouldering away, with my fingers eaten off by my 50 feral cats. Just wanted to get that out in the open there.

*shakes head in sad, disconsolate fashion*

Also, half two in the morning is quite late to get back to the flat. You’d think you’d be able to get some privacy at that time in the morning. No. Enter random cyclists who just completely ruin everything.

*shakes head some more*

Good job I tend to see the funny side of things and, on the scale, this has to rate pretty high on the Cas-O-Meter.

Really. Old Cat Lady. No hope for me.

More coherent (and hopefully more humourous) post later. Right now I am going to go drown myself in the shower.

You know you’ve reached that point with your thesis and research when you start having dreams about your supervisor chasing you with sharp pointy objects and trying to brainwash you.

After the third such subconscious visitation from the godhead, it was decided that I needed a night off, and I was taken to see ‘Crash‘ for some light relief. Odd choice for a date movie. Odd choice for any movie actually. Definitely not one of this years happy-fluffy films, and I would not recommend moving to LA – they are all psychos out there! The good guys end up shooting people, you start to sympathize with the most racist bigot of the lot… Odd movie.

Right, because I always over analyze stuff ^*1* and I really shouldn’t, I am going to stop discussing my exploits and return normal service to the blog by once more riffling through the trash that has accumulated in the Random folder.

Random Insult Generator. Can’t remember if this was a JB gem, or a Mata gem, but it is very funny. Apparently I am a politically illiterate bloodsucker. Nice.

Once more into the gadget fray: Full Metal Keyboard.

3D browser. Oooh, contextual browsing. Fun.

Scilly Knicker Thief exiled for 7 years. What I found funniest about this? The police asked the women to identify their belongings. Think about this for a moment. Would you want to go down to the local station and pick out your diamante-studded G-string from all the others? It’s also the idenifying “other items” that gets me. “Yes officer, that is indeed my Rampant Rabbit”…

the Onion – Michael Bay ‘interview’. Funny on so many levels. Also, there’s an Intelligent Falling article that made me laugh a lot. Won’t link to it though, because I guess some people might not find it so funny. It’s on that site if you want to go look.

Frist Urges teaching of ID. And it continues. I don’t have a problem with people learning about Intelligent Design. It’s when it is taught as a science that I start to get all worried. It’s not a science. Never will be. Teach it as sociology, religion, etc, but not in the same breath as an established scientific theory. And before you get all pissy about the use of the word “theory” there, all science is just a theory. Gravity is just a theory, yet… Nope, no way to finish that sentence without offending people, so I’m just going to simmer quietly over here.

Gallery told to drop ‘gay’ Batman. Awwww, this is just mean. Everyone knows Batman and Robin are lovers. Why do DC comics keep trying to get them back in the closet?

Book Vending Machines. Good idea, but what’s wrong with, you know, a book store?

E-Paper. Shiny futuristic futures coming even more real… Ok, would try to make that sentence more, you know, in keeping with words written by someone who claims to be proud of her grasp of the English language, but house hunting has kinda sapped any will to live right now.

And finishing on an appropriately surreal note, student held over online mugging.

I’ve been musing on Perception with a capital “P” for the last couple of days now. Not in any major fashion, but enough for it to be a thing in my brain. The following musings are a result of a few conversations with different people over the last couple of days, some of them drunken conversations, so that might clue you into what you are about to experience.

Firstly, which is the correct perception: our perception of ourselves; or people’s perception of us? If we were going by mob-rule, I would be one of the coolest cucumbers on the planet, at least under first impressions. As far as I personally am concerned though, I am as neurotic and shy as they come.

The evidence. Apparently, I give off the “cool college girl” vibe the first time the CC ^*1* met me. That, and on the first day here at Southampton I gave the impression of seeming so laid back, that any further and I would have been horizontal. Yet inside, I was, and still am, a gibbering wreck. The memories of the first week or so on the course are a bit hazy, but I do remember the feeling of being a fraud and hoping no one found out were rather prevalent.

Again, in the last week at Liverpool, I found out that I, and the group of friends I was in, was considered to be the “cool group” (as cool as archaeologists get). So cool, in fact, that it made a couple of people loath to talk to us for the three years.

Now this is wrong to me. I have never been the cool kid. Ever. I am even perversely proud of this fact. I don’t want to be the cool kid. The cool kids made my life crap in secondary school (High School basically). My experience of the cool kids is not a good one. So I want to believe that we were the “anti-cool” group, above all those petty class rivalries, just hanging out, having fun, doing our own thing.

One time Bimbostar (her choice of name) and myself we talking about it in a lull in both of our dating escapades ^*2*, and I complained how guys never came up to talk to me in bars. It turns out that this is because I give off the vibe of being so cool, calm, and collected that I must be already totally hooked-up with someone, or just so not looking, which couldn’t be further from the truth. But I don’t know how to be any other way – I just act myself in those situations. I can’t help it that I’ve been single so long that I am pretty much fine that way most of the time. Nor, for that matter, do I want to look desperate. I must be a better actor than I’d thought.

Jeff holds firmly to the conviction that I will happily talk to anyone, fit into any new group of friends, and rapidly become the life-and-soul. Whilst the truth of the matter is that I loathe meeting new people, and scared out of my tiny little brain most of the time, and am quite happy to sit in my room and never talk to any one face to face.

So who has more authority to say which the true version of Claire is?

I’m not sure either how I manage to give off such a misleading vibe – the only thing I can think of is that it stems from the fact I just find life inherently funny. When this is all over, I am going to be sitting on my cloud, looking down at everything, laughing hysterically. I’ve spent so long laughing at myself and the pathetic mess I make of things, that it becomes very easy not to take myself seriously, and when that happens you start to realise that everyone is pretty much as fucked up as you are, and just as scared witless. Once you’ve made your peace with that fact, life does become that little bit simpler.

In all of the above, it’s a case of do as I say, not do as I do. Whilst yes, I do find life just one big cosmic joke most of the time (I mean, the Platypus?!), I still get excruciatingly nervous round people and I have a self-esteem so low it’s in negative figures. Then again, I have no desire to become the creepy old cat lady, so I’m working hard.

A few other random musings.

The CC holds that none of us are “average”. We are all perfect yet flawed at the same time, and are perfect in that very flawed-ness.

Yes, a bit deep for this time of day, but having just danced around the lab (long story) and tried to explain to the Godhead why I was “Cas the Supreme and Merciful” on MSN without actually explaining (even longer story), I am so not in the mood for research right now.

In the course of a few conversations lately, I think I’ve worked out a better definition, or description, of what this blog is. The best way I can describe it is as a conversation you’d have with your best friend, only your best friend is a composite of the imaginary, people that know and love you, and complete random strangers.

I was also asked if there was anything I wouldn’t blog about, and the answer is a definite yes. Some things really should remain private or for one-to-one communication. Bimbostar told me the tale of a friend who let everyone know his mother had just died via the blog. I wouldn’t do that, for example. At the same time, whilst there is shit I don’t blog about, the real heavy stuff does seem to have found its way, in the past, into bits and pieces I’ve written. Crown, for example.

That being true, I am starting to think I should hand out disclaimers to my friends before I talk to them, warning them that anything and everything they say is being taken down and might be blogged against them. Some consider this a good thing, imbuing deeper meaning to conversations and a kind of immortality to their words. To others the idea is anathema, which is why I rarely, if ever, talk about the Scouse One on the blog. He exists, is important to me, but has made it clear he isn’t happy with being on the blog, so I don’t blog about him.

Which is my way of saying, in my own inimitable long-winded style, – if you think this blog is giving you the full picture on my life, and that you ‘know’ me properly, you are sadly disillusioned. For starters there are people who’ve known me decades to whom I am still a puzzle wrapped in an enigma. I still confuse myself most times. People’s perceptions are notoriously unreliable.

~fin~

About a month back I was reading this blog and saw this post. It’s also turned up recently on Nanette’s blog, Say It, Don’t Spray It. I liked the idea. I think it has merit. I am also pretty damn certain that y’all are getting a distorted view of me from this blog. Not sure that this is going to redress the balance in any measurable way, but I’m a bit bored, so why not?

100 random things about me, Cas, in no particular order, as they spring to my mind.

1. I have, in the past, had green, red, purple, black, blonde, and blue hair. Four of those at the same time!
2. Red, purple, blonde, and blue if you are curious.
3. I am the same height now that I was when I was thirteen.
4. When I was three I split my head open on the caravan step.
5. I have a distressing habit of breaking all of my favourite mugs.
6. I have been known to not recognize close family members – both my mother and brother have had the privilege of being blanked by yours truly.
7. The summer when I was 14, I read “Dragonsong” by Anne McCaffrey, sitting on the backseat of my brothers 2CV, in the garage, whilst eating my first ever peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
8. I play the piano.
9. And the oboe.
10. And also the saxophone.
11. Not all at the same time.
12. I adore flying, the smaller the plane the better. It is an amazing feeling when you are flying a two-seater, and there is nothing between you and the sky bar a thin piece of metal, and it seems like the world is lain out beneath you.
13. I love sailing, but get cripplingly seasick even in coastal waters.
14. I always want to be learning new things. When you stop accepting new ideas, or assimilating new knowledge, then you might as well just resign from the human race.
15. My all time comfort film is “Robin Hood Prince of Thieves”.
16. I want to believe in aliens: I find it hard to believe that the Earth is the only planet on which life of any sort evolved. I do think though, that when (if) we ever do meet other ‘intelligent’ life, it is highly likely that we won’t recognize it for what it is. It is pretty much a given that it won’t be bipedal with a slightly greenish tinge to the skin. Just because life as we define it requires water, oxygen, and assorted other Earth-centrinc items, doesn’t mean that ‘life’ elsewhere needs the same things.
17. I would love to go into space.
18. I don’t think that our exploration of space should stop with going to the moon, or Mars (if we ever get there). We looked out of the cave, and saw fire. Then we looked out of our valley, and wondered what was beyond the horizon. Space is what is next.
19. I love reading. I frequently read books from end-to-end in one sitting. When I am in the middle of a good book, I often have no idea what is going on around me, not hearing when people are talking to me, things like that. Totally oblivious.
20. Every time Bush (and Blair) mention the ‘war on terror’ I want to hide under my desk.
21. I am a hopeless romantic. All I want is a white knight, with a good heart, soft touch, fast horse…
22. My left eye is dominant.
23. I find it near impossible to work unless I have a frantic deadline looming over me. I don’t know why – I just do my best work that way. I can have months to do something, schedule myself silly, anything, and I will still be up till 4 am on the day something is due to get it done.
24. I don’t want a job, I want a career. I want it to mean something. I want it to be something that stretches my brain and makes me approach the world in a new way. I just don’t know what that career is going to be.
25. I am allergic to squash such as Ribena, and other soft drinks laden with colours and flavourings.
26. I am addicted to orange juice.
27. 025 directly contributed to 026. As a child the drinks most kids had from the Robinson’s family caused me migraines, and I never did like fizzy drinks such as cola, so that left water (boring) and OJ. I drink pints of the stuff, which, as I prefer the non-concentrate stuff such as Tropicana (I can be sure nothing artificial has snuck in that way), is expensive.
28. I am deeply afraid of loosing my sight. It would be hard to totally loose any sense, but I have some hearing loss anyway, so feel it would be easier to compensate for that loss rather than vision. Then again, I’d rather not loose any of my senses.
29. Some of the stories I used to write were scarily prophetic – I wrote about a character who failed to become a vet so became an archaeologist two years before I’d even been rejected from veterinary college… I gave one character based on a friend twins in three separate stories, so I’m just waiting for the announcement!
30. My brother is responsible for making our GP to shave off his beard in 1982.
31. I was brought up in Glastonbury, Somerset (UK).
32. Certain times of the month the only thing standing between me and the annihilation of anyone who crosses my path is a block of chocolate.
33. I attended the Millfield school system (Abbey, Edgarley, and Millfield) from the age of three. I was one of the first pupils at the Abbey school – there used to be a bench with my name on it in the playground, before they moved the school up to the Edgarley grounds. I’ve no idea if the bench went too.
34. Few things in this world annoy me more than evangelicals. I have nothing wrong with people of faith, no matter what that faith be, but when someone tries to impose their belief-system on me, I go crazy-nuts. There are few things more insulting than being told the way you live your life is wrong. To be told that, and then to be told you have been doomed to a special level of hell by a deity you don’t actually believe in, well, that’s just plain rude.
35. I am really incredibly shy. I just hide it well.
36. It is harder than you would think to come up with 100 interesting (or not) facts about yourself! What are the pertinent parts of my personality? More importantly, how do you condense these down into one liners?
37. I think of myself as average. It would be nice to be special or outstanding in some way, but I am starting to realise that most people are just average.
38. The average people are the people who get things done in this world. Don’t knock the average people. Without them (us), there’d be lots of brilliant ideas, but civilization would still grind to a halt.
39. Slugs scare the shit out of me.
40. I have problems with people who call me ‘cute’ – cute is for puppy-dogs and kittens. Not grown women.
41. At the same time, I have even bigger problems with people who might say I was attractive. So, I’m learning to live with ‘cute’
42. I am not a nice person to know in the morning. If you see me before I’ve had my morning cup of tea, run. Definitely don’t make eye contact or expect conversation.
43. Being short is irritating.
44. Being short and bigger than a size 12 (UK) is even more irritating. Normal trousers are about a foot too long for you, but they don’t seem to make ‘petite’ length trousers in sizes bigger than 12.
45. Consequently I have got quite good at taking up hems!
46. I love photography. I’m not very good at it, but I love it. My digital camera is all very shiny and great for quick pictures, taking out, etc., but there is something extra special about using the SLR. Which, sadly, means I still have to fork out exorbitant amounts of money to develop films. You forget how easy it is just to upload photos the day you took them, till you have to trek into town to find a Jessops. But there is nothing quite like the thrill you get when you get the packet of photos back from the developers and you open it for the first time – how did they turn out?!
47. Even more exciting is finding a film at the back of the drawer, getting it developed, and finding pictures you took on holiday five years ago. Ah, the memories.
48. One of the greatest pieces of modern composition is the “Barbarian Horde” track from the ‘Gladiator’ soundtrack by Hans Zimmer. Now vastly over played and copied to the point where it has become pedestrian, listen to it again with fresh ears, and it will make your heart beat faster. Remember that, when this film came out, no score had ever sounded like this.
49. I want there to be an end to conflict in this world. I don’t understand how it can be possible to hate so much that you would willingly kill another being. It’s just beyond me.
50. When I hear certain pieces of music I get shivers all over my body – that’s when I know something is good. Every time I hear Sarah Denby sing, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Watch out for the girl – she is destined for great things.
51. If you had asked me five years ago what I would be doing at the age of 23 I would not have come up with anything within a million miles of doing postgraduate research into archaeology and social computing.
52. Then again, I am nothing like who I was at the age of just 18, so that’s hardly surprising.
53. I’m not sure when we got our first computer in the family, but it was back when personal computers were still shiny and new, and had screens the size of chocolate bars.
54. Thing that annoyed me most this week when I browsed the internet? A how-to guide I found on a Christian site. It was basically a step-by-step guide on how to convert Buddhists. It was trying to explain the mapping between certain key Christian principles (i.e., rebirth being the first on the list) and the equivalent Buddhist teaching. Not gonna happen. See 034 for related rant.
55. My brother used to charge me 50p a lesson to learn how to use DOS. He always was the enterprising one of the family.
56. Of the 178 results for my real name on Google, only 4 are actually anything to do with me.
57. Of the 29 results for my alter ego on Google, 6 are something to do with me.
58. Not sure what search results would get you to my site, but at the moment people have stumbled across the blog whilst searching for Breasts, Robots, Dr Who, Jennifer Ehle, Polly Toynbee, and Colin Firth. Nice to see people are searching for serious things on the internet.
59. I own Brittney Spear’s first album.
60. I have an unhealthy interest in gadgets and shiny silver toys. There are times I think I have magpie DNA mixed in with my human stuff.
61. Odd things keep happening to me. The best has to be when my ex-boyfriend got engaged to my brothers ex-girlfriend.
62. No idea why, but a decent set of collar-bones on a man just makes me go all weak at the knees. Odd part of the body to get enthused by, but I am sure there are odder. At least they lack the inherent odor problems of feet.
63. I got to know my best friend and two of my ex’s via online role-playing and MSN.
64. Yes, I am a geek.
65. Apparently, from first impressions, people think I am the “cool college girl”.
66. Then you get to know me and realize how wrong you are.
67. Some of my favourite food is Asian – it’s an equal split between Vietnamese, Malaysian, and Japanese. Mmmmmm, jasmine rice.
68. I am a citizen of King Danny’s new country (at the time of writing, it’s still without a name).
69. My favourite bands are Matchbox Twenty,
70. Lifehouse,
71. Three Doors Down,
72. John Mayer,
73. Jack Johnson,
74. and Idlewild.
75. But I will listen to pretty much anything so long as it isn’t dance or techno, and even then I have a soft spot for the odd bit of Basement Jaxx
76. Back to 43 – I’ve changed my mind. I like tall men, and being short means that more men are tall relative to me, so go being short! Did figure out once that 6’2″ was about the maximum though. Taller and that and you start to need a chiropractor on staff to deal with the permanently cricked neck.
77. I probably use sarcasm and self-deprecation far too much, but they’ve worked for me so far, so why stop?
78. I have a weird phobia about people touching me on the neck.
79. At the same time, a good head massage and shampoo at the salon is probably the closest thing to sheer pleasure you can get in public, legally, whilst still fully clothed.
80. I used to be the captain of our university archery team.
81. Then I fucked my back up totally, it’s three years later, and I am still in pain.
82. My undergraduate dissertation broke me – I got RSI in both wrists to the degree I couldn’t hold a fork for a month, and even now I have to be careful of how I type and use the mouse. For three months I decided that support bandages were a fashion accessory.
83. Looking back, I was a remarkably sickly and accident prone child and young adult. It’s a bit of a miracle I’ve made it this far whilst still semi-sane.
84. I like the idea of cooking and baking, but somehow always end up making the same three meals. Something to do with having to buy fresh ingredients all the time and follow recipes, I think.
85. I don’t make any claims to being a good dancer, but there are times when a girl just has to have a good boogie.
86. Which is a problem, because Southampton just doesn’t have the same kicking nightlife that Liverpool did.
87. I can’t believe I just used the phrase “kicking nightlife”.
88. I’m addicted to tea. The thought of not having tea is just… wrong. Assam tea is my current favourite beverage.
89. I like going to the movies – no matter how frequently I go, sitting in the cinema with a bag of popcorn, waiting for the trailers to start, then watching the film, never grows old.
90. I love plants and gardens, they just don’t love me back. Both my grandfather and mother had gardens of surpassing beauty, but plants just have to look at me and they die.
91. Which is why I have grown to love Japanese style gardens – minimal planting!
92. I also adore trees. There aren’t enough trees in this world. Trees are our friends.
93. Plant more trees.
94. Penguins are evil.
95. This doesn’t mean I hate penguins, just that they are evil. Their evilness is part of their essential penguin-ness, and one of the things that makes them special.
96. Pingu is the one exception to this rule, at the request of a colleague. Apparently Pingu can keep his kids quiet for a good 30 minutes at a time, which is no mean feat. He will hear no evil against Pingu. Personally, not a fan (the games on the site designed for three year olds defeated me!), but Dave’s wish is my command on this one.
97. I have one tattoo. It was designed by a dear friend of mine.
98. I want more tattoos, but am resisting the temptation because 1) I can’t afford it, and 2) once you start, it is very hard to stop and I don’t want to turn into the Painted Lady.
99. The key to my heart is silver and amber, and carried by a tall man with good collar-bones, who climbs, plays the bass, is a bit of geek, and has a sexy accent.
100. I really like lists. No, that’s wrong, I like crossings things off of lists. Whenever I write a list, I always put at least one thing on there that I have already done so I can cross it off straight away.
101. I’ve been working on this list on and off for about a month now, so you’d better have found it useful!!

For no reason other than I am in an exceedingly good mood right now, I bring you the evil squirrel, disturber of the peace.

(Click on the picture to go to the page and view the note attached).

There is something remarkably decadent about writing on your laptop whilst sitting on your bed, in your PJs. Not sure what it is – sitting at the PC in your nightwear is, I am sure, an activity practiced (at least occasionally) by a large proportion of you, and nobody thinks anything of it. And there is nothing overly odd about sitting on your bed to work either. It’s comfortable and softer than the floor. In my case I sit on the bed because it’s the only other sit-able-on piece of furniture in the room. I don’t count the floor. I do sit on the floor a lot. I just don’t class it as “furniture”. Furniture you can move. The floor shouldn’t move, unless you are in a lift (thats an elevator for you non-Euro-philes reading), or in an earthquake, and in neither of those occasions are you normally working.

Back to my point. I’ve been sitting on my bed, laptop at the ready, surrounded by books for the better part of the afternoon. I was working. The desk wasn’t looking good to me today, and I’d got done all I could done in the lab this morning. Also, Penny had the cricket on and, whilst I found it enjoyable, I was concentrating more on that than on the thesis, so home I had to come. I didn’t feel decadent then. I did feel I should be in a montage shot from some film – you know the bit: attractive but intelligent girl studying hard before the finals, books spread in a circle around her, laptop open, pencil held in teeth (or possibly behind the ear), another pen holding most of her hair back in a bun, but allowing a few locks to fall forward making her look fetchingly distracted, glasses (that she hasn’t up to this point worn) on the end of her nose, typing for a bit, then flicking over a page, cross-referencing in another book, typing some more, possibly occasionally taking sips of tea (or coffee) from the large mug with the cute cartoon kitten on it… all the while some music plays designed to show the men in the audience that, whilst studying normally isn’t cool, when she is doing it is, and that they should fall wildly in love with her…

You get the idea.

Now though, I feel decadent. Perhaps it is because it is after ten, or because it’s a combination of all the elements (laptop, bed, PJs, disheveled hair do, books). Or perhaps not. Either way, that’s what I’m doing, and that’s what I feel.

Yes, I am rambling more than normal because I am mildly jazzed up at the moment. Just went to see Grease the Musical at the Mayflower Theater. I’ve seen Grease the Movie more than once, and also seen it in a couple of different productions on the stage, but it was only £10 for the student ticket, and both Moose and myself enjoyed seeing Joseph so much last year we thought we’d take in another show whilst it was local. Be criminal not to. And Moose needed cheering up, so really I was being a good friend going along with her. It would have been mean not to go…

Yeah, having a hard time trying to convince myself as well. But it was fun! The girl playing Sandy had an amazing voice – we’re talking chills up the nape-of-the-neck great here. Danny was pretty good as well. Not quite as much charisma as when I saw Shane Ritchie (yes, the Alfie Moon from Eastenders) in the part, but still pretty damn hot. I did have an issue with the woman playing Rizzo – she was channelling Stockard Channing a little bit too much. Basically shouting every line, even the normal conversation, which meant when she was genuinely shouting she had nowhere left to go. But then she sang and I forgave her everything. I probably understood what the song “There Are Worse Things I Could Do” really meant for the first time. Again, chills were multiplying up my spine when she sang.^*1*

All in all, much fun. I’ve decided that my perfect man needs to sing as well as all the rest. Now, the DNCC-WINLHATF (Decidedly-Not-Cute-Canadian-Who-I-No-Longer-Have-A-Thing-For) already is a dab hand on the bass guitar, dances, climbs (and has the collar-bones of a climber to boot), is enough of a geek to understand gamers and enjoy cartoons, and, let’s not forget, is really rather easy on the eyes. If he could add singing to that mix you’d be scraping me off the floor from the puddle of girly-goo I’d just melted into.

But, as he, in addition to all of those things, seems oblivious to my charms, I think I’d better start the search elsewhere.

I’ve been looking for a new bag for a while now – I am picky, so it’s taken a bit to find what I wanted. I was looking for something small but groovy. It’s for when I go out you see. You need something big enough to keep your wallet, phone, keys, and eyeliner etc in (at least if you are me you do), but not something so big that you look odd when dancing. Alas, all the bags I have at the moment are of the black-hole variety. They fit EVERYTHING you could ever need and then some, but really spoil the line of an outfit.

So we were in H&M today, I was picking through the accessories in a desultry fashion, and then I saw the above. I hadn’t even picked it off the shelf when Moose went “oh yes, that’s perfect”. As I make a point of never arguing with Moose, especially when she is right, I got it. And it is. Perfect that is.

Shiny.