Eep!

School Results are out tomorrow!!
Eeep...

But in other news, the first draft of The Bloodening (see previous post's comments) is out and about and looking good! I have tested it on my brothers and the average time for realisation to the fact that the game is just a black screen is about 5 or so minutes... not too shabby!
I am also now putting the finishing touches on the game's trailer, which is looking pretty nifty even if I do say so myself (which I do).
The development of the trailer is, however, making it harder to explain the game to people without sounding like a) a complete nerd and b) crazy.
Not that it bothers me all that much - and it especially won't when the profits start rolling in : )
But for this game to be complete I think it needs one more thing - it would be fantastic if anybody out there can think up a suspenseful (yet horrendously vague) blurb to The Bloodening... something that will make the non-existent storyline spring to non-existent life.

I'm going to leave you now with a Christmas email a friend sent to me recently - I'm sure you've all seen it before, but I absolutely loved it.
Very 2005.
Till then - Feliz Navidad! (gawd...)
C.

Merry... day

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the Northern Hemisphere's winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2006, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make Australia great. Not to imply that Australia is necessarily greater than any other country. And without regard to the race, creed, colour, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee.

By accepting these greetings you are accepting these terms. This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for herself or himself or others, and is void where prohibited by law and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher. This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.

The Cheapest-to-make RPG Ever!

Sophie and I were talking this over yesterday while watching my brother play a game in which the area was "misty" - ie. everything was grey and quiet.
Thinking about this, if you could devise a game with the minimal amount of visuals, such as colour, shapes etc, and the minimal amount of sound it would significantly decrease the production costs of the game itself...
And from this springs our idea:
The game is played from the perspective of the main character - who is blind, deaf and mute.
Hence all you'd need is a black screen and absolutely no sound! And no visuals + no sound = pretty much no developmental costs!
Marketing, however, might be a problem...

Nah, we'll stick a character from Halo on the front. That'll fool em.

Ok - I'm off to explore this idea in greater depth.
Cheerio and Patent Pending!

Lookout Roadusers!

Well, I got my 'L's yesterday.
Selina and I went down to the licensing centre, did the little test and picked up a pair of brand-spanking-new L plates. Sure this ended taking up the good part of an hour and a half, mostly because:
1. Selina forgot her identification and
2. We kept missing our turn because the ticket numbers either moved to fast or we were busy watching The Bold and the Beautiful or Entertainment Tonight without the sound (and, in my opinion, the only thing better than watching these shows without sound is watching them without a picture either)

All in all it was fun (compared to doing nothing, which is what I've been doing quite efficiently since school ended) - the chairs were comfy, the "aqua pura" water was cold (albeit *not* free... damn them) and there was an entertaining number of people who had either forgotten their paperwork or who had just failed a test...

And just one more thing about the L plates, I promise.
It really really really worries me that people fail that test. 30 questions of rote learning, 30 questions that, if you do the majority of the practice tests, you can know off by heart. I swear I went in there, looked at the first few lines and then just pressed the button I remembered pressing aaaallll those other times!

Anywho,
in other news - has anybody else noticed that David Tennant is in *everything* at the moment?
I turn on the TV and there he is! ABC last night - Blackpool starring David Tennant. Went to see Harry Potter and who was in it? David Tennant! Casanova, Dr Who, The Bill, Foyle's War, 9 1/2 Months and I could go on... If actors were like shares, you'd be making one hell of a profit today!

Well that's me done for the day.
Cheerio,
C.

Numa Numa

That song's starting to grow on me... It's Romanian - what else can I say?

Anyhoo - I've just finished putting the finishing flourishes on our Singapore CD and its looking good. The list of songs includes:
1. Banana Phone (Raffi) - because it was on my phone and played constantly by a certain someone *cough*kirani*cough*

2. Wind Beneath my Wings (Bette Midler) - We sang this and our taxi driver on the first night replied "but you don't even know my name, you've only just met me!"

3. Unchained Melody (Elvis Presley) - Again, this taxi driver broke the ice by bursting into Unchained Melody as soon as we got in the car

4. Out of my Mind (Fastball) - Another fantastic Taxi song

5. Come Fly with Me (Frank Sinatra) - many reasons, one being because I bought the Frank Sinatra platinum edition for $12 we played that a lot a lot

6. High (Lighthouse Family) - it was our school leavers song, the song we walked into the flat to and the song we walked out of the flat to

7. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps (Mari Wilson) - its the theme from Coupling which we watched after eating out at the Hawker's huts. It was, as Selina pointed out, also played in most of the CD shops up there, albeit in another language

8. Sexual Healing (Marvin Gaye) - For some reason or another Kirani had this stuck in her head almost 24/7

9. Well Did You Eva? (Bing Crosby & Frank Sinatra) - Jess would break into song at random intervals - this was one of them.

10. High Hopes (Frank Sinatra) - it was on the Frank Sinatra CD and it was cool. The backup singers really go for broke in this one!

11. Needles and Pins (The Searchers) - another one of my influences via the Heartbeat CD.

12. I'm Walking on Sunshine (Katrina and the Waves) - A great dance song

13. I Get Knocked Down (Chumbawumba) - our wakeboarding song... but probably also something to do with the amount of alcohol drunk this holiday

14. You'll be in my Heart (Tarzan) - Corny? Yes. But great to sing along to when we're alone in the flat

15. Bear Necessities (Jungle Book) - again, a great sing-along!

16. Lifted (Lighthouse Family) - we discovered this in my dad's music collection along with High. Its a great song

17. Photograph (Nickelback) - the debate over this one still rages. Jess likes it, but others think the rhyming is funny (only funny*haha* because its funny*er?*)
eg.
Look at this photograph
Every time I do it makes me laugh
How did our eyes get so red?
And what the hell is on Joey’s head?

gawd....

18. Yellow Submarine (Beatles) - our jean-hairdrying music

19. Its my life (Bon Jovi) - we turned this one up veeery loud - Dad has a great subwoofer...

20. Break my stride (Matthew Wilder) - another one of those songs which we sang along to in a taxi.. those poor taxi drivers...

21. Zombie (the Cranberries) - another one of Jess and Kirani's favourites I believe

22. Call on me (Eric Prydz) - we heard this in an arcade somewhere and couldn't stop scaring people by singing it

23. Just to be the next to be with you (Mr Big) - the reason for this one escapes me, but I'm sure it'll return

24. Karma Chameleon (Culture Club) - this one started with Kirani and spiralled out of controll from there

25. I'm into something good (Herman's Hermits) - really simply describing our experiences in Singapore

26. I still call Australia home (Qantas Choir) - I can't believe I found that one...

27. Numa Numa (O-zone) - a fantastic Romanian song, really really catchy if not a little odd

And as of yet, that's it!
Right. Time for me to do something constructive.
Cheers,
C.

Singapore...

Take a looksee at Arnies blog for an in-depth analysis of our journey to and around the country and city of Singapore.

What am I talking about? Its mainly a lot of photos of shops with funny names!

Gloat

I'm going to see Billy Connolly in March!
Ahahahaha!

Thankyou for your time.

Oh but the trees were lovely!

I hate it when people talk in movies.
It’s my number 2 pet hate (#1 being people talking in live theatre).

A group of friends and I went to see Pride and Prejudice today (instead of studying…oops…). It’s a great little movie with an absolutely goooorgeous Mr Darcy played by Matthew Macfadyen, but apparently that wasn’t enough for the two middle-aged women sitting a few seats to my right. Throughout the entire movie these two found it necessary to comment on the scenery and point out the obvious! Let me give you a few examples, because there were many. In a scene near the beginning of the movie, the camera zooms out on a house framed by two huge trees, to which one of the ladies remarked “ooh – what lovely trees”. The exact same thing happened two or three times more and because of this, the conversation the group of us had after the movie was one of the only ones where the word necrophilia was even remotely relavent. Other examples of things said by the women include: “wow, what a lovely house” (also said many many times), “Oh no!”, “That’s his sister” (the movie had made this blindingly obvious) and numerous other questions beginning with “Why…?” I have a question beginning in ‘why’ for you: Why? WHY do people find it necessary to talk loudly during movies??? They weren’t even speaking in the SMALL
“I’m going to lean over to tell you something quietly because we are in a movie theatre and I don’t want to disturb the other patrons” voice –
they were talking in the BIG “I’m going to talk to the person sitting next to me as if we are in a very busy café and not a very quiet movie theatre” voice!
The women, of course, also came to the attention of Sophie who was sitting next to me and, being slightly more forward than myself, she proceeded to cough loudly every time they started to talk. You’d really think that by the amount of splutter and head turning we were doing, they would have shut up. There was an upside to their talking I spose – this viewing of Pride and Prej (having seen it once before) was perhaps the funniest I’d ever been to. After lots of fist biting and dirty looks Soph was attacked by the Giggle-Loop (if you don’t know what this is and haven’t watched Coupling then I’m not going to tell you because “to know about the Giggle-Loop is to be in the Giggle-Loop” and trust me you DO NOT WANT TO BE IN THE GIGGLE-LOOP) so she sat there shaking and trying not to laugh for at least 10 minutes. I was, of course, no help. Just as she looked to be calming down, I would give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder which would inevitably start the whole cycle off again. Hehehe.

Anyway – after that point anything the women said or anything remotely funny on screen would send us into wild fits of laughter. The fact that we (she says I did it, I say she did it – there is no real solution here) spilt a whole bag of Maltesers onto the floor (and, as I later found out, into my shoes) didn’t help. Upon coming out of the cinema (after many reenactments of why she had gone into the Giggle-Loop in the first place and what we should have said to the women) the had to ask us what was so funny about the movie – we, unfortunately, could not explain it and it became a “you had to be there” joke. True, they were there, but that’s hardly the point.

Right, now that I’ve got that over and done with, I can go back to attempting to study.
Physics here I come!!

Keep it real (because if you keep it fake somebody is going to find out and arrest you),

Cait Who Has Had Too Much Chocolate And Is Still On A Giggle-Loop High.

Constable Care: Spring Chicken or Plagued by the Mid-life Crisis Bug?

I have a theory.

Yes, I know. Usually you should approach one of my theories with the same level of disdain as you would if you heard Baldrick say 'I have a cunning plan...' but please, just this once, listen in.

I have been watching tv of late and noticed, to my dismay, that the puppet used in the Constable Care ads has undergone a remarkable makeover. Sure, he's still got the hat, but otherwise he's completely different! No moustache! Basically no eyebrows!! Really, you have to ask yourself - can you take advice from a muppet with no facial hair?
And so we come to my theory. I think Constable Care is going through a mid-life crisis. His puppet used to look about 40 and now, lo an behold, he's suddenly gotten younger. Was he longing to be more hip? To be 'in' with the latest fasion trends? Or did he simply think that facial hair made him look past his use-by date? Whatever the reason, this new reincarnation of CC is, to put it in one word... scary. His lack of eyebrows and moustache seems to highlight the fact that (as he is a puppet) he cannot blink and because of this, to quote Bernard Black when speaking of the twelve-year-old son of two of his friends who had earlier 'blanked' him "he seems to have the cold, dead eyes of a killer".

I'm waiting to see him zooming around Perth, disobeying road rules in a little red corvet just to make himself feel younger...

Hmmm... maybe I have too much time on my hands.

*NOTE: Yes. I am aware that CC is a puppet and therefore cannot go through a mid-life crisis...

Aaaaaaand back to the books (do you see what school does to me?!)

Are you appeased now Kirani?!?!?!?!

Five Reasons Why Physics Has Ruined My Life:

5. I now understand the physics/maths behind such magical natural phenomenas as rainbows, starlight, full moons, glow-in-the-dark stickers and induction stove-tops.

4. I no longer believe in 'centrafugal force' - apparently it was all a figment of our imaginations.

3. I have developed an irrational phobia of the following:
-bridges
-ladders
-walls
-drawbridges
-doors
-see-saws
-coils of wire
-motors
-generators
-split rings
-levers
and anything else that I may be required to calculate the torque on.

2. I now develop a tick when anybody uses 'speed' where one should use 'velocity'. The same applies for 'displacement' and 'distance', and 'centripetal force' and 'centrifugal force'.

and

1. I have actually started making physics-orientated jokes. You know, the sort only people who study physics get and even then you are greeted with groans, not laughter.

Bloody oath.

If I remember correctly, this is the Physics department... That explains all the gravity.

I have a question for you.

Is it actually possible to write a pro-war novel?

You can write a anti-war novel really easily by portraying the horrors and terrible effects of war, but try and write a novel that portays the glory of war and you get congratulated for your wonderful work of satire! I feel sorry for all the poor authors out there who are renound for their satirical works, but in reality they just really like war!

Not that I'm for pro-war novels, it was just a thought is all.

Well that's the last context paragraph *i'll* ever write

Three down, four to go.
I finally got around to counting my exams this time - and I'm only half-way through!! The upside of this, however, is the fact that I've finished my last school-based lit exam. No more context paragraphs for me! None of the Good Answer TEE essays have them and I believe, quite frankly, that they're completely superfluous.
What else...
Have you ever tried writing essays with 'the crying game' stuck in your head? No? I thought not. Its bloody difficult believe you me! I kept trying to write on Medea and little bits of song kept working their way into my head - it'd go like this:
In his play, Medea, Euripides 'first there are kisses, then there are sighs' uses the construction of characters to further promote 'the cr-yyying gaaaame'.
I'm hoping I managed to scrub out all the bits before giving them in...
Oooh - I'm off to study for my physics prac tomorrow by watching Mythbusters.
Oh quiet, I know its not study.

Anywhoo - I'll leave you with a little comic that sort of follows on from a point made in my lit rant a couple of months back

Cheerio,
C.

The Gorilla Kinda Lingers

I think I'm turning into something along the lines of Marge Simpson.
I'm living in a house full of boys at the moment - mum's gone off to Brisbane for a bit, so Dads looking after my two brothers and myself. Being the only girl in a house of three boys, two dogs, a cat that wakes you up several times a night and three budgies whose cage is in need of cleaning is pretty difficult. I've found that I've started making that little noise that Marge makes when she's annoyed... I can't type it out, but I'm sure you all know which one I mean. Hopefully it'll go away soon enough - I'd hate to think I'll start doing it unconsciously... It only takes one of my brothers to talk to me and my throat tenses up and its a concious effort not to mumble disapprovingly!
But having said that, Why?! Why?! Why can't men wash the dishes properly?!

The saving grace of this weekend is, however, the fact that I've re-discovered Not the Nine-O-Clock News. Its absolutely fabulous - and they're all so young!! At the moment, my favourite bit would have to be 'Nice video, Shame About the Song', but quite frankly, any skit that has both Rowan Atkinson and Billy Connoly in it has got to be good!

Anyway, musn't get distracted from studying (much) - so I'll leave you with a bit of Nine-o-Clock advise,

Remember: It's much easier for a rich man to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a ... Than it is for a camel to!

Another little rant...

Did any of you see the clouds last night??
To quote my mum they looked like "crushed satin"
Or to be more poetic, "a black crushed satin gown illuminated from beneath by a pale white orb [ie. the moon] whose rays stretched out in a perfect circle"
There. That's my creativity for the day.

But one more thing before I head off - am I the ONLY PERSON WHO CAN'T GET THE LID OFF THE DEMAZIN BOTTLE???
I have never been able to work that damnable child-safety lock thing! I know it says push down then turn but.... hmmm... maybe I'm turning then pushing down...
Either way, I fear I'm going to end up having to run around to other people's houses in the middle of the night asking them to open demazin bottles for me! Why me? Why me?
And another thing!
I have yet to taste a peach that tastes like 'peach flavoured' demazin!

Baaah humbug!



Well. That's that.

I feel much better now : )

Wildly Fascinating Title

Well, its finally Sunday night... possible the most depressing part of the whole week!
But atleast its been a good weekend I spose.

Saturday
- mum and I went shopping for a good few hours instead of going to the gym - I figure all the walking cancels out the fish'n'chips we had for lunch...
-Bought one (1) Secret Santa/End Of Term gift
-Used last years Secret Santa book voucer to buy the series 4 DVD of british comedy series 'Coupling' from Dymocks (very close, if not slightly more laugh-out-loud funny than Black Books!!)
- Watched all six episodes of 'Coupling'
- went to bed

Sunday
-Spent entire day at the UWA Expo with Selina, came back with a bag chock-a-block full of information and free stuff [pens, highlighters, Roc Candy (!)]
Some of the highlights included:
1. Climbing the tower (180 steps 180 steps 180 steps 180 steps)
2. Discovering that one of the founders/architechts of the hall married a 17 year old... when he was 52...
3. Standing for over 20 minutes in a line for a free hotdog (it was FREE!)
4. Going to the physics display at 9am (it started at 9, there was nobody there)
5. The lecturer who had a tweed coat... with a matching old-man hat!!
6. The 'What I Wish I'd Known In Year 12' lecture where the last speaker told us to quit coffee - it being 'satan in hot liquid form'. He was from bunbury. Or, as he liked to call it - 'Funbury'
He was cool : p
7. Tieing a balloon (free!) around my wrist then realising that I couldn't take my bag off that shoulder without looping it over my balloon...

-and am now sitting in bed watching 'Coupling' again, have pulled out the first series and am alternating between the two...


Aaaaaand, that's my weekend!

I should probably have done some homework...

Even more

I'm sorry about this, but it had to be done.
Possibly one of the most pointless jokes in the world... but absolutely fantastic as a time waster!

There was a little boy by the name of Billy. Billy was an ordinary little boy who did ordinary little boy things, like playing, eating, bathing, destroying things, and going to school. One day, when Billy went down to the bus stop to meet the bus to go to school, he found all of his friends huddled around in a little group, talking about the Purple Wombat.
Being a little boy, Billy was curious. So he asked them, "What's the Purple Wombat?"
"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the children exclaimed disgustedly. For the rest of the morning, they would not go near Billy, always standing far away and staring at him. Then the bus came. Billy, confused, got on the bus along with the rest of the children.
"Hey, Mister Bus Driver!" one of the chldren shouted. "Billy doesn't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
The bus driver turned around abruptly. "You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" he said in disbelief. He ordered Billy to sit in the very back of the bus, all by himself.
Eventually, they got to school, and Billy got off the bus and went to class. Class proceeded normally; the students did the pledge of allegiance and worked on their multiplication tables for a while. Then the teacher led them into a unit on geography. Billy was not really paying attention, but he heard the teacher mention something about the Purple Wombat.
Billy's hand shot up, and, when the teacher called on him, Billy asked, "Teacher, what's the Purple Wombat?"
"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the teacher cried in alarm, "Get yourself to the principal's office right now, young man. No, no buts -- march!"
So Billy headed down the long, dark, frightening hallway to the principal's office. He slowly opened the large, heavy door, and timidly entered the room behind it. There, at a large, imposing desk, sat the principal. The principal was a hulking man, balding, with a thin mustache. He spoke in a deep baritone voice. He was enough to frighten little boys like Billy who had been sent to his office almost to tears.
"Well, Billy," he began slowly. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Mr. Principal, I just don't know what's going on today. Everyone's been acting weird, and they're all treating me really badly. Like teacher just sent me to you and stuff."
"Now, Billy, I'm here to help you. I'm the princi-Pal, after all. Heh heh. Can you tell me why everyone's acting so strangely?"
"It's because I don't know what some stupid Purple Wombat is."
"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is? That's it. I am calling your mother, young man. Consider yourself suspended."
The principal threw Billy out of his office and told him to go home. Billy, crying, began the long walk home. When he got there, his mother was standing in the doorway waiting for him.
"Billy!" she called, sobbing, "I was so worried about you! What happened?"
"Mom," Billy cried, "Everyone was being mean to me and I had to sit in the back of the bus all by myself and the teacher sent me to the principal's office and the principal suspended me, all because I don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" Billy's mother shrieked. "Go to your room this minute. Go! Just wait until your father gets home!"
So Billy marched up the stairs and into his room. He collapsed on the bed, crying. After some amount of time, he heard a car pull in and some doors shutting. His father was home. He could hear his parents talking downstairs but didn't know what they were saying. Then he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and his door opened.
"Billy," his father began in that lecturing-father tone, "Your mother says you've been acting badly lately. Would you like to tell me what you've done?"
"Dad, I haven't done anything! I just don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
"You...don't know what the Purple Wombat is. Well, in that case, you can just stay in this room all night, mister. And forget about dinner!"
Billy's father slammed the door and stormed off. Billy collapsed on his bed, crying his eyes out. He spent the next several hours that way -- lying there, crying, wishing he would wake up.
Then, in the middle of the night, he heard a voice. It said: "Billy. I am the Purple Wombat, Billy."
Billy sat up with a start. He looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice, but he could not.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Find me, Billy."
It was coming from out the window. So Billy got up, put his shoes on, opened the window, and climbed out on to the roof.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat."
Billy jumped down off the roof and followed the voice down the road. He got to the edge of a wood.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Follow me, Billy."
The voice was coming from inside the wood. It was very dark and very frightening, but Billy didn't care. He had to find out what the Purple Wombat was. So, bravely, he entered the wood.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Keep going, Billy."
Billy kept going into the wood. He could hardly see anything, and he kept falling down and walking into things and hurting himself. But he kept going, driven by a need to find this enigma that kept calling his name.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. This way, Billy."
Eventually, Billy emerged from the wood. He was on the shore of the town lake.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. I'm out here, Billy."
It was coming from out across the lake. Billy got one of the small rowboats from the dock, untied it, and rowed out. Since he was only a small boy, it was very difficult. But he had to find out what the Purple Wombat was.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Row, Billy."
The voice was coming from across the lake. Billy doubled his effort, and the boat began to move a little faster. When he was about half way across the lake, he heard: "Billy, I am the Purple Wombat. I'm up here, Billy."
It was coming from directly above him. Billy stopped rowing and stood up to look for it. The boat tipped over, dumping him in the lake. Billy didn't know how to swim, so he drowned.


Moral: Don't stand up in a boat.

Two Incredibly Baaaaad Jokes...

Seriously, get out while you still can!!

Incredibly bad joke of the day #1:
What did the German watch repairer say to his watch that would only go tick, tick, tick?
"Ve have vays of making you tock!"


Incredibly bad joke of the day #2:
One time an electrician came home drunk at four o'clock in the morning.
"Wire you insulate?" his wife scolded.
"Watts it to you?" he snapped. "I'm ohm, ain't I?"

Ook...

New Eps

RvB Season 4 is finally here!! The first two episodes are online on the RvB webpage - you must check them out!!

And in keeping with the spirit of the blog*, here's a little bit of RvB gold...
Grif: So now we're forced to work together? How ironic.
Simmons: No, that's not ironic! Ironic would be if we had to work together to hurt each other!
Donut: No, ironic would be if, instead of that guy kidnapping Lopez, Lopez kidnapped him.
Sarge: I think it would be ironic if our guns didn't shoot bullets, but instead squirted a healing salve that cured all wounds.
Caboose: I think it would be ironic if everybody was made of iron...

TWO HOURS LATER

Chruch: Okay. We all agree that, while the current situation is not totally ironic, the fact that we now have to work together is odd in an unexpected way, that defies our normal circumstances. Is everyone happy with that?!

I think I'm beginning to agree with Caboose... and that, quite frankly, scares me.

Cheerio,
C : p


* Note: the spirit of the blog, essentially, is irony (which I am actually starting to doubt the existence of... but thats a story for another time)

Classics

NOTE: This is a LONG POST. You may want to bring provisions when attempting to read it - I suggest lots of water and a few energy bars. Remember to get enough sleep and do not attempt to read if operating heavy machinery.

You have been warned.


Now,
for all of you out there who do not have the time (or drive) to read all the classics, do I have a website for you!
Yup - I discovered the little gem "book-in-a-minute" a while back and so, being a community-minded individual (but mostly a BORED community-minded individual) I thought I'd put a few up here so that you can peruse them at your leisure.

For Startes:
A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickins:

Doctor released,
Marquis deceased,
Darnay acquitted,
Monarchy submitted,
Marriage announced,
Darnay denounced,
Places are switched,
Blades are twitched,
Seamstress cries,
Carton dies.
THE END

Dante's Inferno

-Some woman puts Dante through Hell.
THE END

The Great Gatsbey, F Scott Fitzgerald
Gatsby
Daisy, I made all this money for you, because I love you.
Daisy
I cannot reciprocate, because I represent the American Dream.
Gatsby
Now I must die, because I also represent the American Dream. (Gatsby DIES.)
Nick
I hate New Yorkers.
THE END
*this would have been soooo useful last year for yr 11 Lit!*

Lord of the Flies, William Golding
(Some BOYS crash on an ISLAND.)
Ralph
We need a fire.
(They make a fire. It goes out.)
Ralph
We need a fire.
(They make a fire. It goes out.)
Ralph
We need a fire.
Jack
Forget the fire. Let's kill each other.
Other Boys
Yeah!
(They do.)
THE END

Catch-22, Joseph Heller
*but you must actually read this, just for the ending - its a "smile-out-loud" kinda end"*
Colonel Cathcart
I want a promotion, so I screw over all my men.
Yossarian
I want to get out of here, so I walk around naked and pretend to be sick.
Colonel Cathcart
Fine. Praise us, and we'll let you go home.
Yossarian
No. I'll desert instead, because I've learned that war is crazy, and it's bad too, because it makes people do really weird things and die. Also, high ranking military officers are evil incarnate.
Easily Deluded Reader
Look at all the subtext. This must be one of the greatest anti-war pieces of our time.
THE END

Moby Dick, Herman Melville
Ishmael
Call me Ishmael.
Captain Ahab
Crew, we will seek the white whale and kill it, because I am insane.
Crew
Alas, your destructive obsession will be our undoing.
(They almost find the white whale. Then they almost find the white whale.
Then they find it.)
Captain Ahab
I stab at thee. I stab at thee.
(Everybody dies except Ishmael, although this is no surprise, because it was foreshadowed CONTINUALLY from the BEGINNING.)
THE END

The Crucible *eeeek!*, Arthur Miller
Reverend Parris
Abigail Williams, you and your friends are in trouble, unless you can shift the blame to someone else.
Abigail Williams
She did it! He did it! They did it! Everybody but us did it!
Judge Danforth
Ah, now we are getting somewhere.
(Everybody gets hanged, which just goes to show how evil McCarthyism is.)
THE END

The Collected works of Jane Austen
Female Lead
I secretly love Male Lead. He must never know.
Male Lead
I secretly love Female Lead. She must never know.
(They find out.)

THE END

And, for all of you out there who know anything about revolutions:
Animal Farm, George Orwell (the snobby version)

Old Major, the Pig
Let us overthrow the depraved czar, Farmer Jones, a symbol of a feudalist government that falls into moral ruin by its own excess and corruption.
(dies)
Napoleon, the Pig
Yes, let us indeed overthrow the human oligarchy as Karl Ma--uh, Friedrich Enge--uh, Wladimir Iljitsch Leni--uh, what Old Major said.
Snowball, the Pig
Yes. I'll lead the defense, unwary that you, like the other Napoleon, are pulling a strategic Stalinesque maneuver by using our revolution as a means to set up your own cruel totalitarian empire. I'm a regular Leo Dawidowitsch Trotzky!
(Napoleon sicks his pack of secret police dogs on Snowball, and they EXILE him.)
Sheep
See how easily we, the blind followers of our leaders, ignore the facts and are swayed into loyalty by the pushing of emotional buttons? Four legs good. Two legs baaaad.
(oook - The Glass House has forever changed that...)
Rats and Rabbits
Can we, the Menscheviki, be comrades too?
Moses, the Raven
Take comfort in what I, a symbol of the Orthodox Church, say. When you die, you'll go to the glorious Sugarcandy Mountain. So there's no need for revolution after all.
Squealer, the Pig
Go away, opiate of the people. Like Goebbels, the German minister of propaganda, I have a much greater hold on the people than you do.
Pigeons
Let's be the message carriers of communism and spread the doctrine of the revolution far beyond the physical boundaries of our regime.
Boxer, the Horse
Napoleon is always right. Like the Russian working class, I am convinced of the necessity of our revolution, firmly devoted to its cause, and work hard for my leaders.
Napoleon, the Pig
Good horse, Boxer. We need more animals like you.
Boxer, the Horse
I'm old now. At long last, I have reached retirement age. Now I can rest peacefully while Napoleon takes care of me.
Napoleon, the Pig
Think again, you lazy oaf.
(sells Boxer for glue)

(The animals destroy the windmill in an action symbolic of the failure of the Five Year Economic Plan. Then the pigs turn into humans. Thus ends this dystopian fable on totalitarianism.)
THE END

And for everybody else,
(the simple version):
Some pigs lead a revolt against people, act like jerks, and play poker.
THE END

Well, I think that about does that for the moment.

But thanks have to go to
http://www.rinkworks.com/bookaminute/

*which actually wrote most of this blog entry*

Cheers for sticking around,
C : p

Books (gah!)

I'm scared.

I've recently discovered that books are affecting the way I think. Not in the "I now have a better understanding of life and the world around me sort of way", but in the "I am now going to think in the style in which the book has been written" type of way. Its really really really annoying!! Let me give you an example - A while back I was reading a book where the main character (and narrator) was a texan. So, without realising it my inner monologue had suddenly developed a southern drawl.
Whenever I read period pieces (eg. Jane Austen, Bronte etc etc) my innermonologue becomes posh and, just because I want to use this word *somewhere*, somewhat hoity toity (gawd...). Which is really unnecessary because I already sound like that most of the time (unintentionally, of course)

All I can hope for is that this does not come through in my "outer monologue". I'd hate for people to be able to tell what I was reading just from listening to me speak...
Having said that, I'm going to go home tonight and attempt to get past the first page of "Clockwork Orange".

You'll know I have if I start talking gibberish.

Well, moreso than usual.

Quiet you.

Yellow Carton

I was walking through the supermarket today ('Supavalue' to be exact... man I hat plasces that cam't spelll...) and as I went to pick up a few cartons of milk I noticed a lonely little yellow carton sitting in the sea of white and blue. Now - as it turns out, it was this very carton that had been plaguing my dreams a month or so ago! The yellow carton that Jane had so placidly argued for was actually (drumroll!) Pura Light-Start!!!
Life changing, no?


Just thought you ought to know.

C.

: p



PS - the Limos gone!!! Yeees!!

Hyperballad and Weird Words

Hello all -
Have just been listening to my new #1 most-depressing-song-of-all-time (Learn To Be Lonely having moved to second place). Its weird, I've been listening to this song for atleast 6 months and never before have I actually felt emotionally attached to it... I don't know why, but I find Big Heavy Stuff's cover of Hyperballad reeeaally depressing. I think I listen to the lyrics of songs too much - For example, I will be listening to a song - and it will have absolutely fantastic music - but I'll hear a lyric that I don't like and *bang* there goes my ability to enjoy that song EVER again!
So, lets have a look at the lyrics:

We live on a mountain
Right at the top
There's a beautiful view
From the top of the mountain
Every morning I walk towards the edge
And throw little things off
Like:
Car parts, bottles and cutlery
Or whatever I find lying around

It's become a habit
A way
To start the day

I go through all this
Before you wake up
So I can feel happier
To be safe up here with you

It's early morning
No one is awake
I'm back at my cliff
Still throwing things off
I listen to the sounds they make
On their way down
I follow with my eyes 'til they crash
Imagine what my body would sound like
Slamming against those rocks

When it lands
Will my eyes
Be closed or open?

I go through all this
Before you wake up
So I can feel happier
To be safe up here with you

Ok - having read the lyrics, I can see why it might depress me - but it was originally sung by Bjoerk!! How can anyone with the name Bjoerk depress me!?

Anywho - I strongly reccommend you go out there and find this song because if you ever want to feel sorry for yourself, this is the one!!!

Now, having thouroughly depressed myself, here I have a list of words I think should be used more often in society (NOTE: you may have to look these up, gawd knows I did!)
1. absquatulate
2. hornswoggle
3. skedaddle (or skeedaddle, depending on where you're from)
4. Smouch (If someone can explain to me how exactly one *can* counterfeit tea I will be most pleased)
5. Barmecide
6. Boondoggle (just cause it sounds cool)
7. Folderol (Am going to bring this one back!!)
and finally:
8. Zenzizenzizenzic

Woo - I have waaaaay too much time on my hands.

Scary Limo

There is a limo parked two blocks down and one block across from me.

Limos don't usually scare me, but I think this is pushing it. You see, this Limo is parked outside the "massage" parlour (read:brothel) two blocks down and one block across from me.*Again, not such an irregular occurence... its just that it has been there for THREE DAYS! Why? Why? Why? Actually, don't answer that.

I'm hoping it will be gone by tomorrow - mainly because anybody who can afford a Limo regularly and is going for a "massage" at 4 in the afternoon cannot be a good influence.

Right - am feeling sufficiently grossed out... Think I will go watch one of the older (and subsequently very innocent) Dr Who episodes... gawd...




*Note: It is also directly across the road from a police station - s-u-s-p-i-c-i-o-u-s!

Where Shall I Go?

I am soooo bored - are there any good internet sites out there that *aren't* blocked by this firewall!?

Thats not a rhetorical question...
Please, let me know!!!

Things I Need:

1. Icing Sugar (I have a half-made batch of icing sitting on the kitchen counter - fannntastic)
2. Brown Sugar - finished making cake yesterday with juuuust enough
3. 20-20 FOREsight
4. A gazebo. I don't know why, I just feel like I have a gazebo shaped hole in my life... Although I suppose a large tent would do
5. Another 4-day weekend (This really needs no explanation)
6. The ability to wake up every morning *not* feeling like someone has been poking me in the eye all night
7. A Pony (Why not? Why not?)
8. Confidence to stand up to tiny angry lit teachers
9. To be able to lie outside on the grass and watch the clouds without having to worry about schoolwork (only 3 months to go... only three months to go...)
10. Peppermint chocolate!!!

Ruddigore or The Witche's Curse

I love going to Operas - even just to watch the conductor.
Its so funny how much these guys get into it. They wave their little sticks about like crazy, making happy faces for light, happy music and mad scrunchy-up faces for loud dramatic music. And when its all over, they put their hands out to acknowledge the musicians. The musicians in the pit. The musicians WHO WE CAN'T SEE! I felt like yelling this out today (my mum also commented on this after the overture which is, in itself, scary), but I put up with it for fear of knowing people in the audience (which was a good thing, cause I did).
Neway, as I was saying, I've been to see Gilbert and Sullivan's Ruddigore (I'm a little obsessed with G&S, can you tell?), performed by a youth theatre company. Now, usually I see the words "Youth theatre" and run - but this is G&S and I hadn't seen Ruddigore on stage before, so decided to give it a shot. It was actually quite good - some of the girls had absolutely amazing voices (damn!), but have discovered that teenage boys just aren't meant for baritone - which is what most of the male roles required. But all in all, it was vg.
What's really scary though is when you notice that someone you know (or atleast I think I may have met once... or perhaps have simply heard enough gossip about to have formed an opinion of) is playing one of the leads. Fair enough.

Fuuuunny story - you know in movies when anyone is on stage something invariably catches on fire? Well, thats pretty much what happened today! One of the sparkler-cracker things (oh I don't know what they're called! But you press a button and they make a little explosion! Moving on) caught on fire! So, in the middle of an important scene one of the stagehands had to run on, unplug the offending flame and run off stage with it.
Fun all round!

Alright now, I’m off to do something more constructive – like watch Tv! Hmm… only sport… oooh – Iron Chef’s on at 830? I’m there!

Cheers!

C.

My New Desktop

What do you think?
I hope it works!!
: p

My School is Breeding Feminists - a Rant of sorts

Ok – that was a bad choice of words. My school is not breeding feminists – that would be wrong and decidedly gross. My school is more… training feminists to be released into the water supply in a final bid to take over the world!!
Mwahahahahahaaa!

Let me give you an example:
The majority of the feminising happens during my English-Lit class (although I’m sure, as others will testify, that it is also present to an extent in the English/Snr English classes). Firstly, let us get into the English-Lit frame of mind:

-Ahem- sexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexexsexsex…

Is your mind in the gutter yet? Good.
Now that you are in the correct frame of mind, let us continue on to the aspects which make up the ‘feminist-in-training’ class.

Firstly, questions.
When in an English-Lit class you will invariably be asked to comment on the ‘symbolism’ inherent in a section of the text.
For example:
“What does corn symbolise in THE GOOD CORN?”
There are two correct answers to this.
1. Sex – it is a phallic symbol or
2. It represents the repression of women at the hands of a strongly patriarchal society.
Both are considered correct, but the second uses a greater amount of “key words” and so will get more kudos.
If I can give you one piece of advise that will get you through a Lit lesson it would be to have on you, at all times, a tape recorder with your voice saying ‘sex’ and ‘the repression of women’ at random intervals. This will work to fend of any questions you may be asked…
“What is ravine symbolic of?”
“sex”
“What caused Medea to murder Kreon?”
“the repression of women”
“What were the main factors that brought about the creation of Gilead?”
“sex…the repression of women”
“excellent work!”

Nextly (is that even a word!?), are the influences behind each of our chosen texts this year.
Text 1: Medea – a strong woman is repressed by her husband and the patriarchal society of Ancient Greece – we admire the woman who has to make great sacrifices (ie. Kill her children) and condemn the men-folk who invariably cause these dilemmas.
Text 2: A Handmaid’s Tale – This book embodies the Lit syllabus. If you haven’t read the book I can’t really describe it to you (nor do I want to delve back into this little gem) but believe you me its chock-a-block full of sex, the repression/oppression of women, slavery and the occasional “all men are bastards” spiel.
Text 3: The collected works of TS Eliot – “But what about TS Eliot?” I hear you cry, “He was just a poet!” Well that’s exactly what I thought until Lit showed me differently. Eliot was, in fact, a “woman-disliker” – thus filling the repression of women catergory quite nicely. Oh, and he also wrote about prostitutes… a bit.
Text 4: Ibsen’s Ghosts – Ok, this is getting repetitive. I’m just going to copy/paste/edit here.
A strong woman is repressed by her husband and the patriarchal society of 19th Century Norway – we admire the woman who has to make great sacrifices (ie. Play drinking games with her debaucherous husband) and condemn the men-folk who invariably cause these dilemmas.
Text 5: The Lost Honour of KAtharina Blum – who caused Katharina to lose her honour? Men! Who are represented as louts, schemers and stalkers? Men! Who are being repressed? Women!
Text 6: The Metaphysical Poets – okay, truth be told, we haven’t started the Metaphysicals yet, but I’m sure it will be full of repression. And sex.

Lit also teaches us a lot about stereotypes. "Stereotypes are bad. They catergorise people and do not allow for individualism". Stereotypes of men and women are especially loathsome, as they confine us to our roles in society – women as moody and motherly, men as devoid of emotion and butch. Or so I’m told.

Now,
there wouldn’t usually be a problem with the whole feminist thing in school – its quite fun to rile people up about the treatment of women in society and how stereotypes are basically everywhere, but I do have a problem with the way it sort of spills over into my everyday life.
For example – I will be watching Tv and suddenly notice that that women sitting over there is a stereotype! She is being subservient to men, the way is is dressed is stereotypical she is wearing (gasp) makeup! – and out comes the ‘lit monster’ – she is being repressed by men!! And that’s the end of my enjoying that particular show – damn analytical talents.
I’m even up for the emancipation of men!
A few weeks ago I was watching Big Brother (shut up!) and one of them suggested that he didn’t have a real, ‘emotional’ relationship with his friends. Upon interviewing one of the friends and him being asked the question – do you think this will actually happen? What followed was a lot of embarrassed noise making with a final verdict that, no, he didn’t want any sort of emotional relationship, heaven forbid with his friend!
Men!

Oh gawd – am turning into a feminist!!

Do you see what school is doing to this generation?! Our generation is going to become one where men don’t feel and all women think that we’re being repressed!

Who will be laughing then? Hmmm?

Only the hyenas, my friend, only the hyenas.







Ok. That last bit was a little melodramatic…

1+1= a window!

Hohum, I've got a Lit essay tomorrow and should rea-hea-lly be getting back to typing up my notes.
I know I complain about Lit a lot - but I guess its just because there's really no "right" answer. The theory also states that there is no "wrong" answer either, but I think we've proved that one to be untrue...
I mean, in maths I think we can safely say that 1+1 does indeed = 2
but in the English language 1+1 can = a whole range of things, eg: a window, 2, (3-1), a cage etc etc etc
So there I sit writing something that I believe is right but could indeed be wrong... to someone who is not me...
In light of this, I have devised a Lit-test that I would very much like to take (considering that I wrote it and thus know the answers), instead of writing essays:
The text being "The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum".
1. Who has "lost their honour?
2. Fill in the following gaps -
a) H_ch
b) Ka__ar__a
c) _oed___
d) Tr__e the R_d
3. Which of the following characters should have umlauts in there names?
Moeding, Totges, Blorna, Katharina, Hach, Straubleder, Luding, Beizmenne
CHALLENGE:
4. Who said - "S out and B in" and who are S and B?
Answers at the bottom of the post...

Yeah - that would be cool. And instead of one hour, it would probably take a good 5 minutes, giving me ample time to do other things (like assignments/more study!)

Oh well,
Off to work I guess!
Bis spaeter! (Why not? Its a German book!)
Deine, C.


Answers:
1. Katharina Blum
2. a) Hach b) Katharina c) Moeding d) Trude the Red
3. Toetges, Straeubleder, Lueding,
4. Lueding, Straeubleder, Blorna
Tada!

I need to get myself a hobby

No. I really do. My life has become so unordinarily boring that I have been reduced to dreaming about milk.

MILK!
This is not only disturbing, but a trifle sad as well...
If you have anything better to do (ie. knit teacosies) turn back now! Otherwise, here is a full transcript of my dream:

Last night as I was peacefully sleeping I suddenly discovered that I was in a supermarket with two unidentified people, we'll call them Jane and Janet for want of better characters. Now, we needed milk. So, as one does when one needs milk, we picked up a red shopping basket and wandered over to the milk fridge (Shock! Horror!). What followed was a discussion about the advantages and disadvantages of each milk type. This was neither a heated discussion nor one of particular interest - we simply needed milk.

So, after some debate (Jane wanted the milk in a yellow carton - silly Jane), I managed to convince them to buy Brownes "Calcium Plus".
End of dream.

Woa! Exciting stuff, no?

Now, when I was talking to my friend about this (as one does when one is in German) she came up with quite a nice spin on my dream.
-Apparently, I am going to face many difficult choices in my life and, ultimately, will choose the one that is most familiar, costs the least money... and is the most calcium rich.

Hmmm... deep.

C.

Rebroff and Giftedness

Woa - you should hear this guy sing!
One minute he's singing the bassiest of bass notes then 'pow!' he sounds like a soprano! I'm talking more full-on than Pavorotti!
Ooooh - now he's singing 'If I were a rich man', in german!!!!

Man - I didn't realise how much of that song was just 'deebeedeebeefanafanafaan'!

Ivan Rebroff - the guy with the largest vocal range in the world.... it makes me feel like I should be doing something with my life...
Anyways - I've finally found a survey that identifies me as 'gifted' (unfortunately, it does differentiate between gifted and 'talented'... oh well, you can't have everything)

Do you have a passion for justice?
lynch justice? Maybeee...
Are you perfectionistic?
I believe the word is punctilious.
Are you highly sensitive?
YES! NEXT QUESTION!
Do you have gifted friends and relatives?
I like to think so
Do you have a great sense of humor?
Ok - A marine bioligist walks into a flower shop and discovers something new: a bonsai palm tree in a pot. As he admires the plant he says, "With fronds like these, who needs anemones?"
Ha - get it? Anemones!
Are you perceptive-seeing through the image to the reality?
Do x-ray glasses count?
Are you intuitive?
I can guess the next question if you'd like...
Has your honesty gotten you into trouble?
Must...not...say...anything...

Ok - so i resent some of that...
But I've got to get back to typing out my lit notes (whee!)

Cheers,
C.

PS - I promise to publish my feminist-lit-etc-rant later on (when I've gotten rid of all the embarrassing bits...)
See you on the flip side

-cannot believe have just said that-

Boooooredom=Craziness

La lala lalalalalalalalalalalamalalalalala...
Hmmm - bored.

I know who I want to be reincarnated as!

I have been trawling the internet thismorning (no particular reason) and came across this little gem. Its a quote from the 2005 remake of "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" (1971) aptly named "Charlie and the Choclate Factory".

Veruca Salt: Daddy, I want to go in.
Mr Salt: It's only 9:59, sweetheart.
Veruca Salt: Then make time go faster.

"Then make time go faster." That's her. That's who I want to come back as.
Anyone who can demand that their father bend the very fabric of space and time, throw aaaalll the rules of quantum physics out the window and possibly destroy the universe itself is alright by me.

Plus she's obscenely rich.

Make it stop!

Argh! I have the Final Countdown stuck in my head and I only know one line of it! Oh the humanity!

(although slightly less worrying than if it was the Moonlight Sonata...)

That IS Ironic!

Okay - for want of a better way to spend my saturday morning I'm going to find a good, understandable definition for the word ironic. Here goes...

9.53- searched on google for the word ironic.
9.57 - finished sifting through adds for ebay, porn and smileys and found actual definitions.
9.58 - Found one (1) useless definition:

"'Ironic' is the title of a 1995 song written and performed by singer Alanis Morissette, which first appeared on her highly successful debut album Jagged Little Pill.'

9.59 - Another defintion surfaces:

"A mode of literature in which the characters exhibit a power of action inferior to the one assumed to be normal in the reader or audience, or in which the poet's attitude is one of detached objectivity."

Erm...

10.10 - More definitions surface, all of which simply include the word ironic. Not. Helpful.

10.15 -
Hey, what about this one?

“An Irony is a nipping jest, or a speech that hath the honey of pleasantnesse in its mouth, and a sting of a rebuke in its taile.”
E. Reyner Rules Govt. Tongue, 1656

Mmm - ye olde ironee : p

Right. That's it. I'm going out to do something constructive.

Keep you eyes peeled for any lucid definitions and watch this space for updates!!

-PS - Arnie, you may want to check Jess' addition to the CGF site...
: )

C.

20 to 8

It's official - 7:40 is wa-hey to early to be at school.

There's only so much one can do on a computer when all the game sites are blocked and its too early for anyone to send you emails - even the career ed teacher.

Right.

I'm going to wander around outside for a bit and listen to Gilbert and Sullivan, instead of doing homework : )

Cheers
C.

The Don Cossacks Dance Ensemble? фантастический!

Oh well, its finally Sunday again, back to the books tomorrow... But of all Sundays - today has been pretty good! Now, my Russian is limited to 'da', 'nyet' and 'vodka' (said in a russian accent) so I'm trusting the internet translator that the russian bit up the top means something along the lines of 'fantastic!' (which it probably doesn't) - but assuming no one here can read russian I'm gonna say it again - фантастический!

As you can hopefully tell by now, I've been to see russian dancers at the Regal. And may I just say that I didn't know people could be that flexible! The troop was made up of around 8 men (sadly all in their 40's) and about 8-10 women who threw themselves around a stage for a good two hours, only broken up by two of the women who found it necessary to break into song every-so-often. To quote the broschure - "Their costumes [were] exquisitely intricate... A Sensational stage show! Breathtaking timing and accuracy..."
My favourite parts included:
1. the guys who grabbed their swords, held them at arms length and proceeded to jump over
them (both legs, tucking their knees under their chins!)
2. the swords themselves (they sparked when hit!!)
3. and the crazy kicking/jumping moves that are typical of russian dancers everywhere.

But what I most want to talk about is the two singers - ah, the singers.It was quite funny really, after every two or so dance numbers two women would come onto stage (after the interval, to much sighing and whispers of 'oh please no!') and sing a nice Russian folk song. Now, I'm not saying that they were terrible singers or anything (nor do I have anything against folk songs -ahem-), but seriously, the noises were unnecessary. I’m guessing it’s a cultural thing, but as the troop danced (and sang) they did tend to make noises. Let me give you an example: the men would jump around and yell “hargh!” (except for one who would whistle – almightly hell was it loud… another thing I want to learn to do), the women would make high pitched “heeyarh” noises, and the two singers would make something similar to a dog-like “yoop” (less ‘ye’, more ‘oo’). Dear oh dear, accordions, pipes, drums and “yoops” – I think I’m all “folked” out…There were a lot of good characters in there however – but when I say characters, I of course just mean actual people. For example, the guy who wore his Russian hat at a jaunty angle (Russian? Jaunty? Surely not!), the guy with the skeasy mustache and the very pretty, very doll-like girl who could spin really fast in a crouch (scary).

Considering this, I have hereafter decided that I would like to be a Russian dancer - but sadly don't think that I'm cut out for it... Every time I try to do the kicking move I can hear my knees make that graunching, gristle crunching, "if you do that again I'm going to amputate myself" noise.
Hmm, not good.
But on the upside, I did buy a Babushka! Yup, one of those little wooden dolls filled with more little wooden dolls (hmmm...). She’s really very cool and I choose to believe that she was made in Russia, so I’m feeling quite good about it all really.

Right right right right. I have to go do some German study now because it is after 830 and I have a test tomorrow.
Wish me luck,

And if you ever get a chance to see the Cossacks, ignore the phenomenally high ticket prices and go see them!!!

C.

Hmmm...

Hello, hello-

I've always wondered what drives people write blogs...
Is it a sense of disillusionment with the world?
A need to voice opinions that would otherwise be eating us up inside?
Or a strange, yet intriguing, personality?
It has now become clear to me that bloggers are people who are very good at procrastinating, have too much time on their hands, and a strong sense of adventure!
(okay, maybe not the last one)

Having said that,
Welcome to my blog!!



Oh, and just incase you were wondering - the title is a quote from a v. funny web-series called Red vs. Blue (www.redvsblue.com), so check it out if you get the chance!
I swear it’s actually funny in context!

Cheers,
C.