All entries for December 2005
December 24, 2005
Last week me and dad decided it was about time we got a christmas tree so headed out towards Cromford to pick one up. We went to a place with a crazy man who had a chainsaw, and the crazy man drove us down a hill in his landrover and told us to pick a tree we liked. This slightly less traumatic version of choosing a live christmas turkey was quite fun and we strolled around his wood for a bit until we found one we liked. Every year mum buys a ridiculous number of christmas decorations and dad tries to buy a tree so big that there are still undecorated patches. Dad found a 15 foot tree and told the crazy man who started the chainsaw and chopped it down with a glint in his eye, before chopping down a few more for good measure and driving us back to our car. It wasn't until we got home that we remembered Bruno's annual dip into drugs.
Bruno (our dog) is a terrier and as such has a hugely inflated ego. It has been said that, were he a human, he may well have been a First World War general, because he's not very bright and he's very stubborn and believes in doing things the way he's always done them. Whenever chasing squirrels he insists on barking to let them know of his approach, he must feel that creeping up on them would be unchivalrous, but as a result he never catches any squirrels.
Anyway, it seems that the stuff we spray on the christmas tree to stop all the needles falling off within a day is some kind of solvent, becuase Bruno has spent the last few minutes walking extremely slowly in circles underneath the tree with his nose to the air sniffing and appearing dazed. This is an annual habbit that's been going on for some five years now, and he doesn't seem at all keen to kick the habit, so i guess my dog's a druggy. I'm not sure if thats cool or not, at least he's not a conventional dog!
December 07, 2005
But there are still loads of wicked runs out there. Today I ran from my house (canley) to Kenilworth Castle via westwood heath and then I ran for ages on a cool footpath I found from Kenilworth going east and then I got a bit lost but just over an hour and a half later i found my way back to kenilworth and then ran the direct way home. I was running for 2 hours 40 minutes until i was just too tired at the top of Gibbet Hill road and limped home. Then i spent all afternoon sleeping, it was wicked.
Anyway, back to cool other races you can do, I've just found the website of the Loch Ness marathon. You run along the shores of Loch ness and then to Inverness and finish in Queens Park Stadium. I could also do the Shakespeare marathon but thats on May 7th and I may have exams. Still the point is, if you got rejected from the London Marathon and don't fancy your chances of raising £1000 to get a charity place then do something else, there are plenty of awesome runs out there.
December 05, 2005
I've always found going for a haircut very stressful. While its possible that people think my hair looks stupid (I genuinely don't know if they do or not) that isn't as bad as people thinking I've put lots of effort into my hair and made it look stupid. Consequently I like to afford my hair a degree of autonomy to govern itself and I try not to interfere too much.
I can't quite work out whether my mum approves of my hair or not, but last weekend when I went home for a family meal I was playing the piano and she said I look like Oscar Wilde. I abandoned ambitions to be a poet when I was 14 but I still think it would be quite cool to look like Oscar Wilde. As can be seen below, I don't look like him. Nor do I posess a cool stick.
On the subject of books, I've read about a dozen this term and have run out. Does anyone have any recommendations for really good books? Recently i've been impressed by Brideshead Revisited, The Remains of the Day and Lord of the Flies, and my favourite book is probably The Subtle Knife from Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy.
December 04, 2005
December 02, 2005
Last Wednesday my friend Kady came to stay with me and it was great fun. We went to the carol service at the cathederal then went to the bar for a couple of drinks then went back to mine and watched Waynes World. Kady, being sweet and lovely and knowing that i wouldn't have, one bought me a Darth Vader chocolate filled advent calendar. This is awesome, except that the chocolates that i've had so far have been a heart and a snow covered cottage, which somehow don't seem very appropriate to the dark lord of the Sith. I think the skanky company just put the same chocolates in all their advent calendars.
Since this is already a geeky post I may as well relate that when walking to Tescos earlier in the rain i put my hood up and then when I got in i drew it back in a most Obi-Wan-Kenobi like manner and this pleased me.
I have been rejected. This is not like the regular rejection by pretty ladies who seem impervious to my boyish charm and rugged good looks (no I'm not being vain itís called self deprecating irony. At least I think its irony but I know lots of people misunderstand the concept and so I'm always wary of pronouncing something ironic when in public for fear of being incorrect. Anyway, I digress.) This time I have been rejected by Warwick Accommodation and have not been given on-campus accommodation for my final year. Aside from students returning from a gap year and disabled students who are guaranteed a place on campus, only 50% of those applying got in. Personally I regard frequent debilitating urges to do mathematics as a condition that should guarantee me a space on campus, but suspect the assessors at Warwick think differently. This leaves me quite unaware of where I shall live next year, the dream of a house of mathematicians rivalled only by the girl house of mathematicians (Ruth, Hazel, Wins etc.) is in tatters.
There is of course the option of sharing a single room at Westwood for three weeks at the start of term before being moved off to some other random empty room around campus that resulted from some fresher getting bored and deciding to go home. I have applied to do this, sharing with my friend Dave (a northern yet friendly fellow who's name should be pronounced as if there were an umlaut on the a). If me and Dave are successful in our application we will decide whether we want to take the place, campus would be cool but the first three weeks sharing a single room would be horrible and then I might end up in Rootes.
The other option is continuing to live out in Canley. While knowing that if civil war breaks out I will be able to run to a gun shop in less than ninety seconds is a constant comfort to me, Iím not sure I want to continue to live here. I can be fairly sure that, when strolling into the City Arms in Earlsdon or Kelseyís in Leamington, the establishment will be littered with an assortment of heavy drinkers that I have befriended over the three years Iíve been here. Canley by contrast boasts many Ďlocal pubsí none of which are at all inviting to students, and I donít think its somewhere I want to spend another year.
I think the only solution is for a block of some twenty rooms to be built on the roof of the Maths building and allocated only to keen mathematicians. That would be awesome.
Anyway, my housing blues are without any immediate solution, so I think Iím just gonna drink some Stella and play the harmonica.
December 01, 2005
I paraphrase slightly cause i don't have it in front of me, but
Mrs Doyle: "Would you like some cake Father?"
Father Ted: "No thankyou Mrs Doyle"
Mrs Doyle: "Are you sure? Its got cocaine in it"
Father Ted: "Cocaine?"
Mrs Doyle: "Did I say cocaine? I meant raisins."