Jeannette has just sent me this link:

http://thesurrealist.co.uk/dungeon

It is a fine thing. Go play.

You Are An ISTP

The Mechanic You are calm and collected, even in the most difficult of situations. A person of action and self-direction, you love being independent. You seem impulsive, surprising, and unpredictable to outsiders. You are good at understanding how all things work, except for people. In love, you tend to be very easy going and flexible. The only thing you can't stand for is someone trying to change you or your life. At work, you can stay completely calm under pressure. You handle stress well. You would make an excellent pilot, forensic pathologist, or athlete. How you see yourself: Logical, flexible, and unconventional When other people don't get you, they see you as: Indecisive, flippant, and disrespectful

It started in about 20 minutes. Then I'll be 23.

Good grief, that looks quite scary. My mum was 23 when I was born. (Note to self: do not become pregnant this year) For some reason it keeps occuring to me that 23 is 6 years older than 17. Now I don't think 17 was particularly significant to me, so I have no idea why that keeps popping into my head. Anyway, 23 - it sounds likely very almost adult. People have achieved things at age 23.

Run out of random thoughts on the age of 23.

So what have I done since the last birthday? What has the 22nd year been?

1. Finished my BSc. That was four months of it.
2. Sat in Jeannette's house failing to get a job for a couple of months
3. Five weeks of digging holes in exciting locales
4. Starting my Masters degree, which has been going swimmingly for the last five months

And that's about it. A year sounds very short described like that. Odd. But I've enjoyed the most of it.

....


Can't really think of anything else. When I started writing, I thought I had something to say about the past year of my life ...but I don't, apparently. Life is good, I guess. I still don't have a job and I'm going to have to find one (and better bloody manage it by Birfday 24!). I'd like to do a PhD, but whether or not I do is going to be in the hands of some funding committee or other. I guess basically the course of my life is probably going to be decided by someone I've never met (either potential employer or said funder), which sucks but there's not really much to do. I can't think of a course of action I could take that doesn't lead to someone else deciding whether I should be allowed to follow it. Meh. I guess I'll have live with that.

For in the mean time there is lounging about in bed, there's awful jokes with friends, there's the internet and chocolate (especially together) and all the other simple joys of life. That's pretty much my take of life. It's mostly uncontrollable so I should eat chocolate and play computer games.

Get me, I'm a philosopher.

Where have the last two weeks gone? Seriously, if you see them, tell me because I think I've missed them. I probably think that because I've been living in eternal darkness, each night merging into the last in some kind of angsty vampire way. It seems that, without an external reasons to prevent it, I naturally slip into complete nocturnality. My hours of wakefulness have been roughly 7pm to 8am for the last week or so. Those are long lonely hours, curled up in the living room with my laptop and books. They haven't been entirely wasted, since I have done a little work on my current assignment and have applied for a couple of interesting things, but they have been strange. There are no mealtimes, no opening hours, nothing to divide up the time except trips to the loo. It probably isn't good for me. Oh well.

I'm trying to right things, by staying awake longer into the day each day. Hopefully it will work. I actually saw daylight today. It was a strange and mystical thing. Hopefully there'll be more of it later.

My life has been many simple pleasures lately:

• Christmas - It was enjoyable enough. There were many relatives and much food and some gifts. I got a digital camera, which I'm quite chuffed with since I've never had a real camera. The batteries have already run out, which is a pain. I shall have to see about replacing them at some point. But I got to push my little cousin about and that was fun. She's big enough to tumble about with now. Funny little creature.
• New Year - Not as many people around as usual, but still a good time was had. Truly awful films were watched (this seems to be developing into a New Year tradition, which is somewhat scary), alcohol was drunk and strange rituals were enacted. Success! Apparently my family were busily getting comically trashed, including my brother throwing up on his bed and sleeping in it. Lovely.
• Iceland - I'm trying to get a free place on a two month dig in Iceland. Alas there are only six places, but it would be awesome....I can dream.
• Assignment - It's coming along in dribs and drabs, whenever I can tear myself away from the internet and D&D books. I have a lot of information, it's just being bothered to gently prod it into place.
• Artsy gubbins - I have learnt the truth and joy of inking in drawings. It just makes everything....better. It's wonderful. I've just been sitting going over half my sketchbook, making silly squeaking noises. And thus far I've kept my oath to write a little of my Work of Fiction every day and it is bloating along quite well. Hurrah for hours of nothing to do!

So that's pretty much my life at the moment. Exciting, isn't it? :D

•  

For I am easily led....

Which creature of the night are you? Your Result: Cthulu Spawn   You are really an alien thing, aren't you? I can't describe you because you are beyond. We say "left field" and you say "Krn Grth Thchrang." You are the wild card of the bunch, the unknown quantity
Demon
Vampire
Werewolf
Sorceror
Incubus/Succubus
Ghost
Which creature of the night are you? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

...and a tad peculiar.

That would be me. Because that's what I've been doing lately. Lurking in my living room during the bowels of the night, nibbling away at my essay for my Medieval Churches module. It's quite interesting actually, involves access analysis, which required me to reduce Fountains Abbey in Yorkshire to a join-the-dot puzzle. With 53 points. That is a lot of points for this. I'm hoping my supervisor will look at my diagram, faint, then give it a first when she comes around in hospital.

I've been cleaning again, whenever I have the time, and thus delaying my impending poverty. It's still very dull, but at least I'm now the agency's first choice when this job pops up. Better than nowt.

Snow is pretty! Outside has snow. Snow is also a death-trap on Gilesgate bank, but ho hum, every silver lining has a cloud. Christmas is beginning to approach, which is groovy too. I'm rather fond of Christmas. It's shiny and I get stuff.

I've lately become obsessed with the "Song of Ice and Fire" series by George R. R. Martin. It's amazing - the books are vast but I've been devouring them. Now I've run out, until April (unless the next one gets pushed back again). Go read them, now, so I can froth with you.

Not much else going on. The above is pretty time-consuming.

Bleeeuurgh, I say to you. Why do I drink mead? It gives me hangovers, even in tiny quantities and I was already screwed enough. Arrrgh.

It all started on Monday evening. I found myself working again. Same job as in September, wandering around the craftblock (I've only just worked out that what the other cleaning stuff are trying to call; T and R are different letters, dammit!) of the miscreant training college on the edge of Durham and vaguely cleaning it each night, for the glorious reward of minimum wage. It's dull and tiring, but as mentally taxing as a 1 dot dot-to-dot puzzle. And time-consuming, since it takes me at least an hour to get there and an hour to get back. All this would be fine if it weren't for one thing.

My degree isn't actually part-time.

It lied to me, the heartless, manipulative bitch. It promises me the wonders of two worlds, a gentle stream of academia to sustain my hungrey mind as I toiled through the harsh plains of Having Some Money. But no, until around April, it's the same violent torrent of research and reading as everyone else is in, dashing my hopes of cash against the rocks of exhaustion. I very specifically didn't want to do a full time masters - it looked hard, I mean, really hard and I didn't think my little brain could cope. Now my little brain has to cope with that as well as accepting that I can't have any money.

So I found myself heading out to my 9am lecture on Tuesday morning, then running around a mound of errands until it was workee time. The same on Wednesday, except this time I had to finish off and give a presentation, before having to leave for work before my class had even finished.

On Thursday there was a surprise trip to Staindrop Church. It wasn't intended as a surprise, but I had somehow missed the memo and was only informed of its existence by my module-mates the day before, crushing all hope of the long-awaited Lie-In. At least I didn't have work on Thursday, just a full day on the science site. At least my supervisor though my proposed poster on witch bottles was a good idea. I've made a resolution - whenever possible, my assignments are to be suitable to be Fortean Times articles. Just because that's interesting.

Up at half six on Friday morning, for inexplicable shift change reasons. It involved different tasks to usual and dragged on somewhat. But at least I came home to the hallowed Nap Time! Hurrah. And as I'd hope, I woke up to find someone else had arranged a Halloween party in my house. Thank you, Helly! Twas a good party with much singing and drinking and saying of cruel and harsh things. There was a pinata, which I didn't think would work, but did without destroying any major household appliances.

I've slept through Saturday thus far and I'm bloody happy about it. Sweet, sweet rest! It was good after the paracetamol, although my dreams involved muppets doing things too dark for muppets to ever do. But I'm going to studiously attempt to forget about that. And split my infinitives as often as possible in a single paragraph.

And you know what? I'm doing a shift every evening next week.

There is no god.

/whine

And now I'm going to satisfy my craving for chicken soup. Mmmm, yummy liquid chicken.

I wandered out of Claypath library, contemplating the bus stop, when I found myself staring at the Gala Theatre adverts. Why not read them? I thought, I'd like to see more theatre. Chess the musical....some tedious looking things...oh, a comedy line-up, that could be interesting.
Nope, nope, nope, would have been good but has already happened...what's this...?

TIM MINCHIN IS PLAYING THE GALA TONIGHT!

I dashed to the Box Office. Maybe there'd be tickets left. I could buy one now, I had enough in my bag. I could call up some mates and drag them to this comic genius. I could see all those youtube videos in the flesh. It would be awesome.

"Sorry. It's sold out."

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!

And so I caught the bus, not actually any worse off than I had been, but somehow feeling that I was.

Bugger.

I've been busy. I mean, really busy.

Not long after my last post, I jetted off to the obscure land of Herm, the one I've been going on about for months. I had a pretty good time there. It was stupidly warm for late September, with blazing sunshine pretty much everyday. I have a tan...how freaky is that? It takes some effort for me to tan, which is good, since I'm not a fan of tans. But my forearms have betrayed me. Ho hum. The food was great, since we were given money to eat at the island's awesome pub every night. A pretty sweet deal! The digging was rather hardcore, about 8 hours a day of it. But it was interesting and strangely satisfying to dig a trench from the very start to the very end of its existence. A better view of the process than digging in pre-opened or long-standing trenches. It was a neolithic site, so the finds were vastly interesting to me, all flint waste and really grotty pottery. But then I'm not a prehistorian, it's not surprising that I don't care. I made a lot of friends too, a whole raft of undergrads to prod.

See, I'm not an undergraduate anymore. I'm a postgraduate now. Get me. About a week to recover and unpack my room, then I was thrown into registration/introduction/freshers' week flurry. God, it was hectic. Both college and department dragged me in for a couple of days each for various getting-to-know-you events. I am now officially bereft of small talk. I wish to know no more names, subjects or nationalities.

Well, I show probably get back to feeling slightly groggy...I got rather wasted at the Loinfire Club last night. Damned vodka and caramel syrup. Bizarrely tasty and deadly.

My jet-setting lifestyle is a-go-go again. I've just finished two weeks of working as a night cleaner (exciting stuff!) and am finally heading off to Herm (wot is a Channel Island), for a two week dig run by the university. I'm sure I've explained the horror story theory before - just thought I'd mention that the time has finally arrived. So, I'm vanishing from Durham for a couple of weeks, before being launched into the bewildering array of meetings that make up the first two weeks of my masters. I shall be a busy, busy me.

See you all when I return from the spit of land next to France.