May 31, 2005

Am I Finished College?

I am extremely finished college. I am spectacularly no longer a student. I have completed thirteen exams, two essays and three theses and many packets of Haribo jellies. The jellies make me so proud, sob, I ate them with decorum and passion.

Male housemate is off gigging, female housemate is off groupy-ing. I would have joined them but -

Tonight, I sit instead in the presence of a woman who has been joyfully suckled by a pig; at least in fake images. Tori, this journal entry is for you, you howling ANIMAL of a woman. RAAAR.

neuro-praxis -- Underwhelmed, Jittery and Liable to Inflame

May 30, 2005

Celebrations Now, Come On

I would like to congratulate all of you talkative bastards who have contributed to this journal having four hundred and one comments on it.

You have done well.

Ok party over and back to study. My final exam (please God of all time forever) is in the morning. If I were to walk into the exam in the next fifteen minutes, I would fail it. I would also be asked to leave because I'm wearing pyjamas. But that's not the point. The point is that I don't understand the subject matter and so I need to pull an all-nighter. Consider that phrase.

I NEED TO PULL AN ALL-NIGHTER

That's sheer rubbish when you take a closer look. Tripe and arse.

I have become a vegetarian. Can you call yourself a vegetarian if you still eat meat on Saturday nights? It's not for moral reasons: I have no morals. We're just not eating enough vegetables in this house so we have shifted meat to "treat" status. So far so good. Garbanzo burritos and tomato and mozarella tarts and bean burgers and bitter salads. It's all very nouveau cuisine and politically correct and Hare Krishna and tasty. Did you know Hare Krishnas won't eat mushrooms, because they don't like funghi? They think they make the brain slow. I guess that's how they figure the mentally handicapped into their world-view. Me? I just think that a chick ate an apple from the No-No Tree and we all ended up paddling up smelly-water creek with our naked and blistered hands.

MUST...TRY...TO...WORK AND...NOT...FAIL

neuro-praxis -- Has Learned To Love Her Neighbours Of All Colours Creeds and Kinds

May 27, 2005

Chan Chan

Tonight is the eve of my sixth exam or, as I like to call it, Christmas Eve. Calling tonight Christmas Eve means that I can go to sleep filled with a special sense of excitement about the gifts I will receive in the morning. What a thrill it will be! A fat man will have forcibly entered the house and left timely deposits!

Speaking of timely deposits, I have been re-enjoying the masterpiece that is McCabe's The Butcher Boy in preparation for tomorrow's, er, Christmas lunch.

Seriously though, I am feeling good. I have no idea how this paper will go, but I have booked a brief recuperation holiday in a hotel the south east with K for next week. Before then I've got gigs galore, my class party and a cocktails night to look forward to. Ooooh I am savouring the anticipation of sweet, sweet freedom. I have three full weeks of holiday time before the soulless slog of work beginneth.

Long-time commenter, mr_angry, will be taking his personal jet to my hometown for a flying visit (ho ho- HO HO HO!! MERRY CHRISTMAS ONE AND ALL!! ...sorry, that got out of control) tomorrow, and I am going to see to it that he eats the best turkey salad sandwich he has ever tasted.

Oh yes. The very best.

Now, I wash off the dirt that's been accumulating while I've been ducking under the kitchen table revising for the last four days. That way I can have a lie-in in the morning, getting up at 6am instead of 5.

Does life get any better than that? Yes? Oh. Right you are. Off to slit my wrists then.

neuro-praxis -- El cario que te tengo no te lo puedo negar

May 23, 2005

By Now I Should But I Don't

How did I survive? Forget that, how did you survive? The last week sans antidisinformation has been a trial on my frayed exam nerves. Five down, two to go. Oh yesh. Four medium successes, one failed disaster. That was the cinematography test. I handed up a shameful paper. I knew so little of what was asked that I resorted to describing my last sun holiday.

I would like to propose a lovely "shout out" to my "homies" and beloved "bitch ass niggas" who read this "phat" blog who are also doing "muthafucking exams" or "wack disser-fuckin-tations". This is fo' y'all, slags - Debo, Stig, Lydia, Clare, Bonzo, Silke, Martin, Angela, Luke, Adrian et al. Dawgs, you so fly.

[Edited to add the masters people - I forgot about your pain.]

So I've not been up to much, what with the examming and the studdering and all of that lark. We took a trip to the hideously boring Trim Castle, where I took some artsy-fartsy photographs of a paint-stained bench, a used lollipop stick and some American travelling drama types who were dressed in medieval period costumes and running about drinking out of goblets and what have you. It was slightly eerie. I mean, I can understand wanting to have been born in say, the sixties, with the love revolution and all that crap, but wanting to have been born in the pox ridden middle ages? PASS.

I've also been corrupting my clean-living husband - staying up late drinking neat whiskey shots. He's gone and devloped a taste for it. He's currently in the kitchen developing a morning whiskey smoothie, to give him the kick he needs to drive to work.

Now I prepare to conclude this brief entry but first, I leave you to ponder the following philosophical question - what if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us? Just a stranger on the bus, trying to make his way home? And he was on fire? I leave you with the suggestion that if that if this is indeed the case then we're all royally langered, and not in the good way with cheap liquor.

neuro-praxis -- What Would She Look Like, And Would You Wanna See?

From Monday, May 16th

In The News

A young fellow in Romania woke up in the morgue and punched the doctor.

Also, all the fatties is crying because the crisps and chocolate are gonna be taxed, but apples is free!

May 13, 2005

I Can Always Let You Down

One evil bastarding exam down, and a mere six to go.

It could have been worse. I could have caught the ebola virus and my organs could have been liquifying as I wrote, bleeding out of every possible body-exit, but in general, my health was good and my biros worked and I didn't run out of paper and I got the answers down.

Better than the exam was the conversation I had afterwards at the Coffee Mill with K and (bonus!) one of my classmates, L. It was one of those classic student what's-life-all-about conversations, with the added happyfactor of having two philosophy students present and one aspiring theologian. Fertile ground for lots of interesting bum-brown. (Although of course I recognise that poo does not grow out of fertile ground; rather that poo is actually what makes the ground fertile. Not dog poo though - that contaminates it and can make children blind. Remember that if you're in the mood for perpetrating a victimless crime. By victimless crime I do of course mean a crime you probably won't get caught for.)

Tis such a shame that I only made L's acquaintance toward the end of the college year. I have proved to be a bit of a social failure in university since September, but never mind. If I had any more dates with non-college friends pencilled into my imaginary calendar for the next two months I'd have to employ a body double to fulfil them, so it's probably for the best.

So I was expecting to come here today and find the website down, as forewarned by the stylish and glam Dave who generously provides me my server space, but it did not happen. Woe to me when I hit the publish button here and a wormhole opens in my office. PAP! I'll be forced to get inside to have a look (curiosity always gets the better of me) and then I'll probably disappear into infinity, failing to turn up for my nineteenth century literature examination tomorrow on the Industrial Novel. (Even saying those words makes me feel a combination of sleepiness mixed with self-loathing.)

Well, off I go to cram a year's work into a few hours. No bother to me. Sob. All the while to the medlodious backdrop of my absent neighbour's house alarm. So...soothing.

neuro-praxis -- She's Been Corrupting Bosco

May 12, 2005

While I Can

Apparently antidisinformation.com is going to be down for a while, so I thought I'd squeeze in a journal entry, seeing as there's only a few hours left to one of my university final exams, an' all.

I am unable to breathe at all through my right nostril and haven't been able, for days now. I sit at my desk, reading through reams of Schleiermacher and Kant (CAN!) and Hegel and Levinas, all the while making walrus noises as I absent-mindedly try to clear it. What's UP? There don't even seem to be any bogies up there.

In other news, I was clearing out an old chest in my bedroom today (no, I wasn't scraping the lungs of the elderly) when I encountered a small ball of fluff. When poked, it sprang to life and leapt to my face. It appears it was some sort of miniature person - very angry, but colourfully dressed. The miniature person, obviously a touch cranky after its long nap, gouged out my right eyeball sans provocation. What's a girl to do?

And that's why I can't make it to the exam in the morning.

Yes. That will do nicely.

neuro-praxis -- A Pirate, Yeeeaaargh

May 10, 2005

No Coherence Necessary

Hello. My husband who is a funny bastard just purchased this:

And I feel all special, like that girl must have felt when X-treme wrote that smash hit More Than Words.

The delightful housemates are home - they brought the tshirt (which K had posted to their temporary Californian address) and also some other equally odd but fantastic gifts - large theology tomes and a measuring jug for "cups" - the inane American measuring system that I complain loudly about every time I go to cook using an American recipe.

In more hopeful news, I looked myself up in the dictionary and was royally disappointed.

neuro- or neur-
pref.

1. Nerve: neuroblast.
   
2. Neural: neuropathology.

[Greek, sinew, string, from neuron. See (s)neu- in Indo-European Roots.]

*Quantum leap*

In more pressing news, I is study and no do good. Failure imminent. Drinking beer for pain. I WANT TO GO HOME IGGY!* I DONE MY BIT!

neuro-praxis -- Is All You Have To Do To Make It Real

*Iggy being the calculator thing/supereme all knowing being or some such in that old baffling tv series Quantum Leap. Who knew God was a little multicoloured calculator?

May 07, 2005

Welcome to the Family

One of our friends has gawn and gotten himself a new girlfriend. And now husband K has gawn out with them to see the bound-to-be-gawdawful-Hitchhiker's-Guide-To-Death-By-Movie so I compiled a list of polite conversation questions (and one or two conversation starters) for K to have with the new chick in our gang. I thought the following would help her fit right in.

1. Nice to meet you. How much does your father earn, and what would you estimate is the total worth of your home (or should I say homes) ?
2. Is it true you like scat? (Also suitable in this category are - "Hi, do you like watersports? "or "So, tell me about your sexual habits in as much detail as you are comfortable.")
3. (With a squint:) Ever had scabies?
4. I assume [our friend] is your first partner?
5. What's your dress size? Were you always that size then?
6. (Compliments are good too:) I really like the shape of your head! (or "Your voice sounds furry!")
7. (And of course, a proper welcome or two:) We'll always love you after tonight! (or "You can move in with us if you like!")

I wonder how the three of them have gotten along. I typed up the list and stapled it to K's inner arm for ease of access.

I stayed home because the movie looks so bad, and I hated the books more than the filthy Wicked Witch of the West hated water. Also, we spent the day driving around the Wicklow mountains, and the thought of a beer and me and my laptop all alone with some good music sounded rather delicious.

Plus K has promised to bring me home a gift that is neither onion rings nor candy floss. Excellent.

neuro-praxis -- Clicking Her Ruby Heels Three Times

May 06, 2005

You Are Dressed Like An Avalanche

"indeed everything was filled with sperm, except the captain's pantaloons pockets, and those he reserved to thrust his hands into, in self- complacent testimony of his entire satisfaction." - from Moby Dick, page 488.

Well there's been a lot happening in the last month. My sister-in-law got engaged, and to celebrate I drank a lot of Multiple Screaming Orgasms with her and her loud friends. I learned from this experience not to tell my sixty year old mother in law that the barman gave me and (the other) sister-in-law two multiple screaming orgasms for a miraculously cheap €9.00 (do you know how much that stuff usually costs?!), and then all the girls decided to go for them.

Other this-month-fact: the housemates have been in California, eating all of the raisins that they can stuff into their mouths (presumably). They will be trickling home in the next three days, bringing with them a tornado of love, gifts, and luggage that will remain unpacked in the hallway for approximately two years.

Then there was the time this month I was sweeping the hallway of my house and I put the mat outside, and when I brought it back in and settled it in place, I noticed with a horrible metallic rising panic that it was crawling with black maggots and they were getting pretty comfortable. I was in my bare feet, and I did a lot of screaming and hopping and sweeping of wriggly living things with a brush into the garden. I had to pick one of the maggots off my foot. I also had to scrape a few of them out of the little recess below the door, between the doorframe and the world. That was the best bit. While hunting for a picture of this particular kind of maggot, which I had never seen before, I came across this site, which I must WARN YOU ABOUT. Suffice to say it has blatherings about maggots being the world's smallest surgeons or some other such propaganda by sick fetishists. You get the idea.

Maggot traumas aside. Husband is in occupied territories today - he's in Belfast for a "meeting". So I must occupy myowngoodself in my jittery state. I must ask: why is everybody in the blithering world celebrating their birthdays in the last few weeks, and also in the coming few weeks? People, you have made me poor! And your gifts were meagre at best. When I am rich and famous I shall buy you all cars made of chocolate, and houses built of pot-pourri.

Also this month we went on a road trip with twenty-one folks from our church to Bangor - where we visited a church who've been generously loading us with cash (and prayers!) to get us up and running. There were 500 people at their evening service - they usually get a thousand on Sunday mornings. This was quite intimidating. It's one thing to lead worship in a church of 75, or to talk freely at the front, but before 500 people it's quite another story. All of the fun was had in the cars (church orgies - wahey!) on the way up - terrific banter, laughs and getting-to-know-each-other-really-well conversations. Pure joy. Y'all need to join a church. It's like a big fat family, yih.

Speaking of family, K and I and our two Venezuelan friends went to stay with my parents for a weekend, and did quite a bit of exploring of the west. The highlight was when we went for beers in B. Hopkins pub - it's this tiny 10-foot by 6-foot pub in Enniscrone - a good bit smaller than your average living room. The landlady was at mass so we had to serve ourselves. I dig it. :)

So I had my last ever lecture today. Ever. Ow. It was the philosophy of social science and we had a big argument about whether the norms and rules that we build in our world are as a result of natural instincts or not. It was heated. I am sad that these kinds of things are over. In fact, I could probably squeeze out a tear or two if I really thought about it. I am not sure why, to be honest - I have a pain in my face with study. But this is the end of an era, a significant era where a lot of things took place and where I grew a miraculous foot taller in four years. I regrettably didn't have lots of sex with random strangers and take lots of drugs and alcohol (actually the last one could be debated, but I didn't get regularly and ridiculously shit-faced), but I did host a lot of easygoing parties with great music, friends and beer, and those things won't end just because college has. Ah good old self-delusion and consolation! Well there ain't nobody else consoling me!

THE JOYS OF FRIENDSHIP

In other shocking yet delightful news, my friend S is taking me to London because she is marvellous. UP THE S-LADY! As soon as my damn exams are firmly out of the way we shall be jet-setting off to land the land of mists and mellow fruitfulness for a weekend of pure chick indulgence. Shopping, wine, shopping.

And our car broke, AGIN (once more, almost killing us with its wheel-falling-off-antics), but a clever friend repaired it with skill and kindness. Yay for him and his GIANT TOOL.

The puns have ended and it is getting dark. I am back. Now that I have 7 exams to prepare for, you can expect four or five neuro entries a day. I pity you all.

neuro-praxis -- Twice the Encouragement of the Real You

May 03, 2005

Hurray etc

I just completed my final university assignment ever. It was a bitch of an essay on literary and cultural theory and I have been working through the night.

Now I just have the seven exams to get through without killing myself.

Update to follow. I miss blogging. :(