Well, it’s all happening today (umm, technically now yesterday). First off, something completely different : Sometimes, there is beauty in simplicity.

I found out this afternoon that I might have a viva for my degree - basically I’m on the shortlist, and I’ll only find out just beforehand on Thursday whether I’ll be picked to talk with the external examiners. I spent some time trying to work out which boundary I’m within a few percent of, and unless I’ve done something really, really badly wrong with my coursework this year (and I mean ~36% badly) then it’s to see if I can get up to a First. Which would be a nice blag really, much better than for instance…

…blagging your way into the Summer Ball. Or should that be linked to like this: Smyle. Depends what I want to do with the old search engine malarky. I was in the Union reception (on non-Union business, I hasten to add), when the therein mentioned Ents Manager was letting the Union General Manager know about the aforementioned page. It was quite fun watching it zing around the offices, and the completely different reactions of people involved. I’m not going to (currently) make any further comment, while I seek legal advice. Getting worked up about the whole thing is too much like hard work…

…and my plans to avoid work over the forthcoming year are looking increasing shaky, as I now have two people wanting to know if I’m interested in working for them. And that’s paying jobs, not just the other guy who wants to know if I’m interested in aparently living in the storeroom and doing my other hobby as a full time affair. Sounds more enjoyable, but somewhat less financially rewarding, than doing my main hobby, which is computer programming…

…for DramSoc, it would currently appear. I’ve been working on Brightstar for a few days, and have come across recursive functions for the first time in anger. For printing out the contents of a ‘group’, as me and Gaaaaary are calling it, where a group may contain other groups…

…and as cool as this linking across paragraphs may seem, it has to end now. Goodnight.

Aaaaaaaannndddddd - wait for it…. - HANGOVER.

Still, it’s a laugh - you’re only young once. And only have one liver, but that’s beside the point. Let’s own up though, in order, to the following: Whose idea was it to keep the bars open till 1 last night? Whose idea was it to tell me about it? Whose idea were all those glasses of wine and beer in the department, beers at Southside and beers at the Union? OK, so the last one is easy to apportion blame for, but hey.

There’s absolutely no chance that I’d have made it home last night, so I guess it’s just as well that I didn’t try. Obviously I didn’t sleep in the storeroom though, cause that would be bad, m’kay? But if the guy with the angle grinder in the Albert Hall building site was any closer (and, if I wasn’t quite so lazy), I’d have got up and thrown something at him.

I had also planned, at one point, to go home this morning, but it’s far more funny watching some people trying (badly) to organise something that really needs some other people who know what they’re doing involved. Hopefully, the outside people will have half a cluestick between them, and the whole thing won’t be a miserable failure - and I say hopefully, because I know some people who are going, and I’d rather they enjoyed it more than I would enjoy watching it fail.

There you go Sam, some obscurity for you. Although it should be fairly obvious what I’m talking about to anyone in the know.

He he, I’m veritimously drunkipoos.

A member of staff guided me towards this room, as if, bless him, he didn’t realise that I have in my posession keys to more of the Union than he has. Still, it’s nice that there are no hassles in me doing as I wish.

I have had plenty (ha - loads) to drink, and I thank only my final year keyboard teachers, that’s you Ms Straine, for me being able to communicate at all. The vocal methods are failing; it’s only the typing that’s left

So, if you’ve not finished you Masters in Chemistry at Imperial yet, I have only these words to say to you.

Hahahhahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahaha
hahhaahhhahhahahahaaahhahahahahhahhhahhahaaahha
hahahhahhahaahahhahahahhhahaahahahhahahahhahhahaha
hhhhahahahahahahaahhhaaahhahah

I have. Ha.

Blah, blah blah blah, me drunkiniousness am veritousness.

No, I don’t thing your realise, Me very be drunkin as is. Extrememoulous.

From (the) Adam - "Read this if, and only if, you have seen the Matrix Reloaded already."

Where was I? Ah, yes, on Saturday I did a bit more head scratching about Brightstar issues, and then went to a ceilidh near Earl’s Court - wearing my full kilt and rigout that was completed for my twenty-first last summer. It was really good fun - unnerving to be in a room full of rather fit women, with no where near enough guys to go around. Now if it had been held on a beach in the Bahamas, with even fewer guys around… Mmmmm….

Sunday again involved some lazing around, followed by climbing at the Westway again. I would say I’m getting better, but I’m not sure that my way of solving problems is a good idea. Quite often I ended up with only one good handhold, and needed to get to the next good one a couple of feet up. So instead of using more technically-challenging ones in between, I just use my reach and strength to haul myself up. So much for the three points of contact rule. Still, summer is a good time for climbing at the Westway, and Sunday evenings are remarkably quiet.

After Gary did a fairly good job of winding us all up with regards to the TV (’Well, he can live another day’ said another flatmate, ‘Just as bloody well, or I’d have killed him’ said I), we watched State of Play, 24 and This Life. State of Play is really good, but if you haven’t been watching it over the last few months I’m not sure whether it would work for you. It has sooooo many subtleties in charaters and events (and I in no way mean plot twists, which also feature aplenty) that I’m surprised it’s on TV - I would expect it to be a rather clever book. 24 is getting repetitive - just how many times can she be kidnapped over two 24-hour periods - but it’s still fun. And This Life is worryingly real sometimes.

Monday started off slowly (spotting a pattern yet?), with then a trip to College to remove the points from the Great Hall that I put in a while back and never got round to taking out. A quick drink at the Union before coming home to sort out the house a bit for the party. Wine, port, cheese and crackers, Malibu, far too many tracks on a playlist, and the potential for a future Monty Python evening.

And now, perhaps, for breakfast.

Oh, if your reading this, are bored this evening, there’s a wine and cheese party at my house. Since you read this, I’m inviting you. Give me a phone if you don’t know where my house is.