All entries for June 2005
June 25, 2005
Oh come on! You cannot come to this country and not dance around in the hammering rain at least once!
I love that line. You can also substitiute "this country" for "the north" when dealing with southerners, and "the North West" if dealing with any none North Westerners. In any case the propensity for Warwick students under the influence of alcohol to do the wonderful things I suggest to them remains undiminished. It all added up to a great end of term party in which most of my group got drenched when I demonstrated that, in warm weather, there is little that's more fun than getting absolutely sodden in the pouring rain. Everyone else thought we were mad, although some did follow our example.
In any case, this is more a "I've finished the year" type entry, so apologies if you expected something more profound. But I think I shall soon have my blog mojo back as I am condemned to a full time summer job and the sense of time to be filled that presents. I certainly have some opinions on recent campus events (the Raffles and Westwood closures, plus the Humanities move) as well as a few other knicknacks of ideas, half formed gems and undecided opinions.
But for now all I want is my results and a moment to reflect on second year, a year I have enjoyed more than first year. For the first time everything has fallen the right way, even the things which hurt and wrenched and ached have turned out for the best. So not everything turned out how I expected, so what? What has worked out has made me ridiculously happy. The way something as geeky as a blog has led me to meet such a range of people, and discover that there are people beyond the Warwick BubbleTM who give a toss about the things I give a toss about. The way joining the Boar has reminded me how much I love drawing, how damn soothing it really is. How the football malarky has demonstrated that a literal kick in the head ain't always a bad thing (results of brain scan proved inconclusive (joke: I have not had a brain scan this year)). And how a little encouragement led to me getting a job I genuinely wanted.
I'm heading for a job, then some major league mooching around, then some more working, then third year. I'm 20. I could ask where the time went but there's plenty more of it around here, so I'd better get filling it.
Citizens, I love you all in different ways. Wear the right factor suncream, eat the right flavour icecream and do your best not to die before I see you again. This is your summer mission.
June 20, 2005
Well I enjoyed it…
Seriously, I am delighted that the Euro 2005 football championships have gone so well. Ok, so we didn't win, but it was heartening to see it on TV, see it get coverage and spectators, read about it in the papers. Women's football finally getting the press it actually deserves.
I wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen when I heard Euro 2005 was coming to the north west of England. Now coming from there I know the place is full of genuine football fans, many of whom I was sure would give the thing a chance, even if only for the first England game in the, nice and posh, City Of Manchester stadium. However I was also worried that that would be it. One game, a small TV audience, and resounding indifference for the rest.
Granted the tournament has hardly been a huge talking point. But it has definitely gone beyond the pessimistic predictions of some who felt it was not going to penetrate a nation with more pressing matters like Big Brother and the leadership of the Conservative Party (boring). Record women's football TV figures of 2.9 million for the Finland match. Record attendences at the games. And I felt it was entertaining.
Ok ok, so the women are not as skilfull as their male counterparts. But they are, in England in particular, part timers. It's possible to get very good if you are earning millions a year for just practising and playing football, but the England ladies all have to have proper jobs on the side as well. Most male footballers drop out of school when they hit the big time. Eniola Aluko was sitting her A Levels (including History, sensible striker) during the tournament. That's the sort of dedication and non-H*rry K*w*ll style behavious that I like to see. These girls care for the game, not the big money lifestyle.
And how was it that different from the men's game anyway? Germany won. England lost when they really should have done better. A team who were not expected to do well, Finland, did well.
And there was some proper drama and excitement. How about a 17-year-old wonderkid appearing to score a last minute winner? Karen Carney must be the breakthrough of the tournament (though Aluko was promising as well) and to see her reaction to scoring that vital goal was brilliant.
And then there was England's big name, Kelly Smith. Despite having suffered injuries too numerous to mention, she came to the tournament determined to play on. Even a nasty clattering at the hands (feet?) of Denmark was not enough to stop her. What was best about her though was that she is passionate. Whether it's the slightly-more-crunching than the average female player tackles, or the wonderfully funny incident when she cheekily pulled the ponytail of an opponent who had been annoying her, Kelly was one of the most up for it players I saw in the tournament. And anyone who saw the infinite replays of the amazing goal she scored against the Czech Republic (some of whose players I am fairly sure I played against when we went on tour at Easter and played Sparta Prague).
Of course, being a proper football fan (one who spent the entirety of the 2002 men's World Cup sat on the sofa watching it during her As Level study leave (it was raining outside)) I was a bit miffed that the BBC wasn't too arsed about showing the non-England games, especially the semi-finals which I would quite like to have seen more of than some scattered highlights. But I guess a step at a time is the best plan, though I feel that many of the doubters might have had second thoughts about criticising the women's lack of skill after seeing the Germans who defied their male equivilants' general boringness to be quite exciting. Birgit Prinz may have been the archetypal huge name (best player in the world, apparently) who didn't quite spark as bright as she should have, but she was still bloody brilliant. Another player who shone was Finland's keeper Kunnas who was great against pretty much everyone expect England and Germany in the first 15 minutes of that game. As for the other picture below... well I didn't enjoy watching Denmark pull two goals back as England demonstrated that wasting 1-0 leads is a national trait that transcends gender, but I do like this celebration pic and look forward to landing on my own team mates
if when we score next year.
In general though I was impressed by the way the media handled it. The BBC and Guardian in particular were very indepth, although the BBC's message boards were host to more than a few derogatory threads by men who were obviously terrified of the thought of women playing their sport. Boys boys boys, we play football and have for years. Deal with it. Naturally it doesn't help when you have Sepp Blatter and Lennart Johansen blathering crap on the sport, though Johansen seems to have been pillioried for being naive in his phrasing rather than a berk like Blatter. Mr Blatter, if I was to play football in mid January in the Midlands wearing the sort of bikini crap you suggested I would in all likelihood be a bit dead by the end. I've already nearly frozen to death whilst wearing trousers, three tops and gloves so I speak from experience. God only knows how the Scottish and Scandanavians would cope.
The BBC did do a good job, but then they usually do. In this house we became particular fans of the pundit Sue Smith for
- Being a damn sight more insightful and interesting than 90% of male pundits (yes, I am looking at you, Mr Alan 'zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz' Shearer).
- Getting progressively Scouse-er throughout the tournament till I was sure she was going to refer to Gavin 'look at my facial hair' Peacock as "Gaz-man" before nicking his hubcaps and running through Manchester screaming "how many European Cups did you win this year?" Sound.
- Being nice about Rachel Yankey and Karen Carney even though they kept her out of the England squad (she's a winger for Leeds Utd).
- Having the best hair.
So there it was. I was gutted that my arse of an exam timtable meant I couldn't go to a single England game. But I really think it's been great, and England's team, being ridiculously young should be up for the world cup in two years, though as it's in China getting to the games might be a bit of a problem. At least I know how to get to Warrington on the cheap.
One last photo. The fact this is of the women's game is irrelevant. It's just a picture which I really liked and which completely resonates with anyone who has ever dared to be a keeper and suffered that horrible moment of a goal that should not have been crossing the line, doing so. Ouch.
June 15, 2005
Ever get the feeling there aren't enough socs at this university?
'Ere! Lawks a daisy guv'na! Well I'll be a monkey's uncle, why ain't there no cock-er-nee soc 'ere? What are us propa workin' class Lahndahners a-gonna do? It's all posh gits and northern nancies round 'ere, wiv their a poncy scarves and flat caps, like Corrie on the telly. We are gonna organise Cockney Soc and have lotsa propa cock-er-nee knees up events. Come visit our regular schedule and see what we can do for you.
- Cock-er-nee knees up!
Gather round the old Joanna and we'll play time honoured cock-er-nee classics like 'Rabbit' by Chaz And Dave, 'My Old Man's A Dustman' and 'Can't Stand Me Now' by
Chaz And Dave The Libertines.
- Ee-nin Stannat
We get a regular deliveries of Evening Standards which we will read and then discuss whilst driving round in cars, just like the taxi drivers we knew back 'ome.
- Cock-er-nee Rhymin' Slang Tuesdays
Spent the 'ole day just talking to people on the dog and bone, gettin' into a barney wiv the trouble and strife, and laughin' at people who don't know why a berk is so rude.
- Man Utd Matches
We regularly organise trips to watch our favourite team – Manchester United.
Fed up with joining societies and having relationships, flings and one night stands with the people you meet there? Pissed off at the heartbreak, inconvenience and social awkwardness such encounters create? Wondering why you joined mixed netball?
The answer is Plat Soc, the society for completely platonic relationships. There will be no romance to be found here, any lusty looks and feelings of chemistry will be extinguished by our trained mood killers. Rejoice as smoochy love songs are replaced with such libido stifling hits as 'Mogwai Fear Satan' by Mogwai, 'Mausoleum' by Manic Street Preachers and the entire back catalogue of Nine Inch Nails. Delight as we perform raindances to drive away picturesque sunsets. Marvel and thank the heavens as we insist on meetings taking place only after everyone present has obscured their faces and bodies using lint.
To help you we have appointed an anti-social sec who will break up any relaxed atmospheres, and will lead missions to the toilets at meetings to ensure no hanky panky takes place.
(Plat Soc is not affiliated with Plato Soc because Plato is monumentally batshit crazy and is a bit of a crap philosopher really...)
Why do we love them? Where do they come from? Where do they go? Why can I only ever find three black socks when I clearly require socks in multiples of two?
Yes, get together with other sock lovers and find out the difference between a thick winter sock and a slipper sock. Marvel at our Union funded range of socks, try them on and share your own with other members. We are a friendly club who often have socials with the Foot Fetish Soc guys, who are really lovely and very interested in our socky love as well.
As a special treat we sometimes hire out the Butterworth Hall and put on sock puppets shows for local impoverished children for which we received Coventry City Council's 2003 award for 'Most Helpful Bunch Of Local Nutters.' Go on, sock it to the Man!
June 12, 2005
Follow-up to Irrelevant Degree Related Crap IV – Station Approach from Hollyzone
No real substance to this post, just a proclamation that I'm glad it's over, and I'm pissed off that England are out of the European Championships because I really wanted to see a game live but couldn't see a group game due to the exam timetabling. I'll blog more on that later. I'll blog more fun stuff. I'll blog more. It's mine all mine now, this vision of a perfectly empty fortnight, only evenings of debauchery pre-booked. I need a break. Here's one I prepared earlier.
Small cupcake as prize for anyone who can spot the songtitle I've paraphrased for this entry's title.
June 09, 2005
For the non-Mancs out there Station Approach is the road leading from Piccadilly train station to the city centre and is, if you're a Cheshire resident on a day out to somewhere which isn't shit, the home straight on the journey. It's also a track on the new Elbow album which I want. Now. Not in September.
Anyway, one more exam and all my fears about this exam lark have pretty much some to nought. I've only done the blag* once. Hell, I've actually done some revision which is unprecedented and worked. Who'd have thought it? The only byproduct has been that as a result of the library time I now have an irrational loathing of silence and several unnecessarily expansive library doodles. Oh and a borderline addiction to caffiene (Red Bull) but I'm broke so I can go cold turkey on that quite easily. Anyway, this pseudo PDP crap is nicely cathartic and roll on Saturday when I've genuinely finished.
There have been a couple of people on here recently complaining about people saying "haytch" not "aytch" for the letter h. I say "haytch" and I can assure you it is perfectly normal and correct… in Ireland. Cultural imports citizens. Tough luck really…
*Written the essay I wanted to write and then twisted the conclusion to make it look like I was answering the question which was actually set.
June 07, 2005
June 02, 2005
Well it's hardly The Sun's headline tomorrow, but hey. The process of revision drives one to do things that one does not normally do, like use the correct pronoun for the third person singular or trek all the way up Parade to rent a DVD. Stupid me for being the one with the video shop rental card, hence I do the treking and everyone else does the 2 minute (less than if we leave the midgets at home) hop to Costcutter for sweets. It's probably safer than having Housemate:Els trek to the Blockbuster in south Leam but she has a car. A car y'hear me. A car.
I still can't spell
initiaive initiative correctly first time. I need a thesaurus or to change degrees. I need to get more sleep and not blog crap at 1am. I need to stop interacting and being sociable and revise.
So I got spotted and stopped in the street when I was trundling along to get a Ben Stiller comedy on DVD (why oh why do I still call it the video shop?). Proper Z-list style, I am no one, the nutjobs of Big Brother are more relevant than me. And sure, you're now reading this and you know who you are and yeah I know this ain't a great entry but let's face it, getting stopped by someone you hardly know and informed that your blog has a readership beyind the freaks and weirdos who infest
your one's kitchen is noteworthy when all you've done all day is fail to learn about the Jacobites.
So once more to all those who read this in that big world shaped thing, yeah it's not funny at the moment, and it's borderline educational at times, and yeah I am utterly inconsistent in which pronouns I use, but you're still here! You love it, you schlaaaaaaaags.
EU Constitution? What's that all about… no politics here gov.