All entries for February 2005
February 27, 2005
I've been up for about half an hour after having been flat out in bed since 7.30pm yesterday! Yeah, I know, 14 hours. As someone who usually gets about half that and feels damn good on it, that's amazing. Even if I stay up until 5am (not a hypothetical situation) I'd still be up within about 8 hours looking for cereal and a new pair of socks.
What happened? Guess.
Begins with an M.
Seriously I blog about them far too much.
So unimaginably painful (normally).
You're getting bored of them now.
Well why am I even blogging this? Well firstly there's the freakishly long time I spent asleep. And this was properly asleep. Normally when I take my drugs they just knock me into a doze but this was actual asleep. With weird dreams like having all my friends in my bedroom, which never happens because no one ever comes into my room except me. Also I awoke having written down the important revelation that "Scientist in French means 'Short person with opinions'". Ok, good to see that my ability to hallucinate under the influence of Naratriptan is undiminished. Good thing too, I left my phone on the other side of the room as in the past I have been known to text people with the most bizarre crap.
The main thing that intrigued me about last night is the pain. Or lack of.
The headsplitting agony (no, I am not being unnecessarily melodramatic) which normally accompanies these episodes was conspicuous by its almost total absense. The aura (distorted vision thing I get which precedes the pain) was really fast to take hold. Normally I spend a few minutes wondering what's going on with my vision, this time I went from fine to totally unable to see within about a minute, surely a new record. So this didn't behave like a typical migraine at all.
I'd like to think that I'm finally reaching the end game of it. Both my parents had headaches (mum had migraines, dad had the man version- cluster headaches) but these both stopped eventually, although dad's have made a recent return some 30 years later. So can I hope that this si the beginning of the end?
- Are they going to get less harsh? This one wasn't as bad as they normally are.
- Are they going to get less frequent? It's been nearly three months since the last one. That's the longest I've gone headache free in a very long time.
- Am I going to finally be free of these things? By my very nature I'm not optimistic but it would be nice.
I personally suspect now is not a great time to measure this potential disappearance. I'm about to get to the first ever assessed essays and exams I will have had at uni safe in the knowledge that I have to do well and get good grades if I'm going to get what I want in life. Oh joy, stress. If I can get through this without too many migraines, and it is possible, then I might be able to get rid of them.
I'm not going to be an optimist here. That's a job for someone else.
February 25, 2005
Well I've finally got round to putting up some galleries, something which I have failed repeatedly to do since August 2004. Better late than never I suppose.
Here's mum looking pleased with her latest discovery- the sky.
Looked at the BUSA website today and read this little nugget of information:
MMU Cheshire Women's 1st 1-0 Oxford University Women's 1st
Match report, anyone?
February 21, 2005
Yes I do.
I am ill. Horribly, cold riddenly, whinging constantly ill. I know I'm ill because my wonderful self-preservation instincts have buggered off royally. "I know" I thought, "A good game of football will cheer me up". So with seminar cancelled I headed off to training full of bizarre enthusiasm, very bizarre in fact, as I showed up early to have a kickaround with a friend who strayed to the dark side and plays hockey.
Gloria then texted to ask me if I thought it was going to snow. "No" I said with the practised confidence of a someone who has lived in this country for 20 years and really should know by now that "no" clearly means "it wasn't going to until I said 'no', now it will just out of spite". As it turns out Fate was giving it 100% as Gloria was on the bus when the heavens opened and the horizontal snow attacked. I was at the astroturfs playing already. The problem with hoirzontal snow is that it is very hard to defend the goal when your friend insists on moving so you're facing into the deluge and she's got a clear sight on goal… so once again I end up on my arse, in the wet, thinking "I really shouldn't be here".
Anyway, how do I win? I win because I got home and saw the letter from the NHS asking me to prove I am entitled to free prescriptions by waving a piece of paper at them which I couldn't find on either of the three occasions I looked for it. Thinking I was now going to have to pay for my eye tests, dentist (memo to self, get appointment) and sweet sweet migraine slaying Naratriptan (you make the pain go awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay) I forlornly shook my file of important stuff sending said important stuff everywhere…
…And somehow in the middle of all the bank statements and passports and pieces of paper which could be rent requests, I saw it. My important, NHS requiring piece of paper. Now I shall have my vision and my teeth and my sweet sweet migraine slaying Naratriptan (you make the pain go awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay)!
Ok, I'm otherwise very ill, can't sleep for coughing, can't concentrate for the headaches and I'm too hot and too cold at the same time but who cares? I win again y'see?
February 18, 2005
Ok more stuff on the season just gone.
Horrible Injuries: Uncountable.
Knees My knees are now well on the road to being completely fucked. If I bend them for to long then when I straighten they click like something which clicks a lot (oooh, great similie). They only ever used to do this under extreme stress but now do it anyway. Not a good sign.
Also I played one game on astroturf (for the Tardan Stallions) and fell very awkwardly onto my right knee which responded by swelling up like a bitch. And was sore. And bled a bit. And it was my birthday. Ok, I accept I probably shouldn't have continued playing on it for weeks afterwards but come on, do I look like one for common sense?
Also I got my other kneecap stamped on in a game against Birmingham University.
Wrist Nothing too bad this year. My left wrist has been screwed for years since I broke my arm playing netball (so dangerous) but it's behaved this season.
Head One nice bout of concussion following the College of Cakes game. Just because you're not allowed to kick the ball out of the goalie's hands doesn't mean you can kick the goalie in the head as compensation for your efforts. I need my head. Bloody Brummies…
Foot A minor stamping. Nothing broke I think. Plus I stood on so many people's feet myself (by accident) that I probably deserve it.
Hands Ok, in a previous life I was clearly really horrible to Birmingham/Brummies in general as games against clubs and unis from there alwayys seem to result in injuries for me. Concussion? Stamped kneecap? And then there's the mysterious bruise on my hand from the game at the weekend against Brum Uni. I have no idea what incident caused it. It just appeared and is now fading... I did have a good photo of it but it's gone missing from Housemate:Boz's digital camera. Clue Cruise: get your own digital camera.
Liver Best one on the team. Hehehe…
Time Spent On Buses Getting To And From Grounds: More Than It Should Have Been
Every away match the same old cry.
"Where are we?"
"Erm [insert name of town here]"
"Yeah but where in [insert name of town here]? Are we near the university?"
"Look for signs."
"Oh I hadn't thought of that [sarcasm]."
"Quiet Holly, we're trying to work out where we are!"
"Mmm-kay, but I think I know where we are."
"Turn left here…"
Half an hour later we locate the ground exactly where I knew it would be. Except if you were to ask me directions I'd lose all sense of space and time and we'd end up in Cornwall looking for York (ahem, Cat, is that where York is?). Still, can't help but pity those who go looking for Warwick Uni and try to find it in Warwick… surely the logical place to look is Coventry.
Football Team Rows
Let's see… I don't care if you think I'm a glory hunter because I support Manchester United. I know I'm not. It's hardly my fault that my dad rasied me as a Man Utd fan (much to the chagrin of my Liverpool supporting mum) and they became successful as it happened. Is it my fault I was born in 1984?
Back in Cheshire loads of people support Man Utd (shock horror, it's 35 minutes away from Old Trafford where I live!) but down here all manner of freaks reside. Rabid, Alan Shearer stalking Newscastle fans. Overly smug Chelski lovers (you ain't won anything yet). West Brom loving Brummies (of the non-let's injure Holly variety). Depressed Leeds fans. Liverpool fans who were born in New York and grew up in Oxford (sure beats born in London, grew up 35 minutes away from Old Trafford). Arsenal scum who nearly gave me a royal beating when I rubbed it in that we beat them this season. Twice. Whilst in possession of Ronaldo.
All the colours of the rainbow and all inferior to my lovely Man Utd.
February 17, 2005
Ok people, pay attention!
About two weeks ago the wonderful South Central sandwich bar stopped serving the wonderful jewel in the crown of their repetoire- Edam. I was outraged and asked where it was whilst sampling all the others in the hope of finding something as good (tuna mayonnaise and sweetcorn has the taste but oh-so-many things which aren't good for you as well).
And the lovely lovely ladies who worked there sympathised with me. They said it was not a very popular sandwich and that they could only get a whole ball of edam from the supplier (a whole ball! mmm…) not a half or even quarter ball which would be more cost effective. But they also said they would try and get it back for me.
And this week they have! I'm so happy I'm using exclamation marks excessively and putting things in bold and italics at random!!!!11!!one!!1one
It was lovely but it came with a warning. Economics rule this world and they could disappear form sale at any point if no one wants them. So please, go and buy one. Or two. They are inifinitely better than Costcutter sandwiches, they are delicious and I am less grumpy when I eat them and a happier Hol is a happier world on average. And who wouldn't want to live in a happier world?
Go on, try one and tell them Edam Girl sent you…
And here's a diagram to explain the consequences of failure to comply (the beautiful stickwoman is me):
February 16, 2005
^In response to a comment elsewhere on this blog… cos I care about my victims… I mean readers!^
A boring chronological review of the last football season would please no one, not least me so I have decided to break it down into a more digestible form.
Number: 1 or 17 or 31
What's that? It's the number on my back. Most common of all is no.1 as I am, for better or for worse a goalkeeper. The attributes are all there, the excessive height, fast reactions, the tendency to use my hands, the almost deranged lack of regard for my own personal safety. I used to play outfield but then someone pointed out that for all my enthusiasm I actually move at roughly the same speed as a glacier except over very short distances. Obviously no one needs an outfield player who can't keep up. Therefore I was relegated to goalie where a long career of picking the ball out of the net and getting injured ensued.
Except… the Warwick 1sts match against Oxford Brookes. With 5 minutes to go one of our midfielders broke her finger and had to be taken off. I was the only sub. So I assumed that I'd come on, take the 1sts' goalie's jersey and she'd play outfield (she's quite good outfield). But no, as there was no time our captain Katie yelled at me "Put on a blue shirt and play attacking midfield. Erk! So I grabbed the first shirt I could find. And it was number 17. Now think about this. 1–11 that's the starting line up. And then normally there are five subs, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. So that means 17 is someone so lame they aren't even on the bench. Typical.
Number 31 is, for no good reason, my lucky number and is the number on the back of my Man Utd shirt.
Goals conceded: 77
Yeah, it's not good is it?
Some of those games were total drubbings, 14–0 against Oxford 2nds (for Warwick 2nds), 13–4 against MMU Alsager (for Warwick 1sts). But some of the others were fairly competitive, 2–0 against College of Cakes, 3–0 against University of Birmingham. And then there were the clean sheets, mainly against Leicester. So what does it all mean? I don't know. All I'm saying is the ball had to get past 10 other players before it reached me. Or nine in the case of the MMU:A match cos we didn't have enough people that day.
And some were brilliant. The corner by Oxford 2nds which went straight in. The beautiful long range shot from De Montfort striker (and Bestfreind:Niamh's sister) Siobhan, and the brilliantly taken penalty by MMU:A.
Funny, one thing I've found that women's footballers can't do as well as guys is take penalties. I've faced four in competitive matches and saved three. Now at this point I could tell you how to bea the keeper and score penalties. But I won't. Cos one day we might play each other and you might get a penalty and then I'll be forced to kill you.
Weather: Not Too Bad
Better than last year when a blizzard nearly wiped out both the 1sts and 2nds. First game for the 2nds was rained off after 60 minutes which was nice. And the game against Birmingham was actually a three way rumble between us, them and the wind which kept trying to steal the ball and throw it in the river. Or up the hill. Or generally away from both teams.
Apart from that… just a bit cold really. Occasionally doing the Dance of the Cold Keeper, the wonderful bouncy, jumpy, short sprint, arm waving jig that cold goalkeepers do when they think no one is looking. And then no one believes you when you say you've got cold hands cos you've been wearing gloves. Yeah, well you can wear all the gloves you want, if you've been stood still in the cold for 90 minutes your hands get cold.
No one understands goalies except other goalies. You know it's true.
February 12, 2005
Finished Evil Essay Of Doom TM and got it handed in at 11am, an hour before the deadline. However the mixed feelings I had gotten from the essay proccess were still bubbling around in my head which made rational thought I bit tricky.
I got to the busstop determined to get off campus. Problem. No Stagecoach waiting to take me, sweet chariot style, back home to Leam. Instead there was a big Travel Cov going to Cov. I didn't want to be sat at the busstop, I wanted to be able to sit down properly and eat my sandwich and relax. So for no apparent reason I went to Cov instead.
Faced with this outcome I proceeded to walk around the town aimlessly for about an hour. I don't have much money and never go clothes shopping alone as I haven't got the inclination, so I was never in any danger of actually buying anything. It was just the fact that I needed to walk around somewhere.
Good thing really I didn't go to Leam. As well as being smaller and therefore less likely to absorb my incessant street pounding, it has the train station. Yes, I am well aware Cov has one of these as well, but Leam does the
£15.00 7 day return to London ticket and that would be far too tempting for a weak willed, essay scrambled person like me. I could have gone back to the city that spawned me, but no, I wandered around Coventry instead. Wiser I guess though I'm more familiar with London's layout than Cov's.
Oh well, sleep now I guess…
February 01, 2005
This entry is in honour of my beloved. Truly, nothing has been so loyal to me as this presence, whom I have felt at all stages of my life, an ever constant, whilst my past abandoned my when I came to university this wonder of the world came with me, shaking off the fame and comfort of home to embark on a new adventure fraught with revelations and challenges. Never to desert me. Never to judge me. Never to fight me. This entry is about and dedicated to the Precariously Balanced Pile Of Stuff.
I can always be sure of the PBPoS. I know it is going to be there in some form or another. That's the beauty of it, it is not constrained by a set make up (as I am with my over exerted heart, cold raddled lungs and pristine liver) nor does it discriminate against new additions. It's very precariousness allows it so much room to include items of all shapes, sizes and consistency.
It acts as marker of my presence. When I go to visit my parents one forms within a bout 10 minutes of my arrival, christened by me throwing my house keys on the table and going off in search of more items to pile. Sometimes it is cultured and learned. Other times it is clothing based. It is never food based unless the food is packaged. I am untidy but not messy.
So today I can see it to my right. It currently stands over a foot (30cm) tall and is a work of genius. It has two spires, meaning there is double to capacity for precarious toppling. But it will not fall. It can't, it is too much a part of me and I don't feel like falling over. So here's to the brave components which have scarificed their individuality:
- My scanner/printer, now useless as a scanner as I can't open it up due to the stuff on top of it.
- Three books- 'The Rights Of Man' Thomas Paine, 'A Wollstonecraft Anthology' edited by Janet Todd and 'British Radicalism and the French Revolution' by H.T. Dickinson. All these books should be read for Thursday's seminar. But they won't be because they are now part of the PBPoS.
- 2 x CDs by Rufus Wainwright. Cheers Sam.
- A postcard from Tunisia.
- My last payslip from the Post Office
- 4 x Manic Street Preachers badges.
- My multi-tool.
- My mouse.
- My graphics tablet and pen.
- A box of Maltesers, unopened.
- 12 x CDs- Hope of the States 'The Lost Riots'; Yeah Yeah Yeahs 'Fever To Tell'; The White Stripes 'Elephjant'; The Walkmen 'Bows and Arrows'; Super Furry Animals 'Songbook'; Snow Patrol 'When It's All Over We Still Have To Clear Up (yes the second SP album that no one else owns even though they are now superstars… I liked them first godammit); Seafood 'When Do We Start Fighting'; Muse 'Origin Of Symmetry'; British Sea Power 'The Decline of…'; Franz Ferdinand 'Franz Ferdinand'; Doves 'Lost Souls'; The Dears 'No Cities Left'.
- My phone.
Truly it is a wonder to behold.