A Glimpse of Life

So it’s now been a while since the three of us have been living together. I thought I’d just post some things that we tend to do rather regularly and some predictions for the year.

So Jimmy and I have sort of made the habit of singing while washing up the dishes. I then later incorporated dancing in order to have singing and dancing. That’s right. If it’s not too late we have Queen blasting out and we’re singing along or if it’s a bit later then we just sing songs from scratch. But we’re not alone. Our kitchen window sees directly into another kitchen window (two houses down) and there are two guys that live there with a decent girl. We always joke that we dance for the girl and that she secretly watches us from the alternate window. We’re often (okay, fine, I’m often) looking out to see if she’s looking our way, but so far she’s doing a really good job being discreet (something I have to work on). Anyway, I predict that either one of us in my flat is going to get lucky with her (hopefully me) or the police are going to visit us sometime soon (probably me).

We were on a RockSoc night out and guess who I bumped into… that girl from a long, long time ago. You guys probably don’t even remember (I barely did), but the important part was that she approached me and asked to dance. Meanwhile we had a chat and all this and all that… and during the chat she told me she had stayed in Newcastle to work and I asked her where it was that she worked. She said something I didn’t understand so I asked again, but she again said something inaudible. I decided to leave it to not make me look like a deaf bastard (which I probably am, but I really can’t hear anyone over loud music). The conversation carried on for a bit more and then that silence came. All of a sudden she says “You should come visit me at work tomorrow--I’ll be there from 9 to 4” and walks away. Fucking hell! So well, obviously I couldn’t visit her the next day because I had no bloody idea where she worked and I couldn’t find her for the rest of the night to ask her again. If that first incident is anything to go by then my love life will be quite disastrous to say the least.

Today (the day of writing, not of publishing) I finished off my CV and was about to give it in, but I didn’t have a stapler with me and I don’t know of anywhere in the university that will staple things for you (probably the library, but I was at the other end) so I figured I’d just rush home to staple it. Remember I’m not living on campus anymore—I have to take the metro to get home (or alternatively walk). It’s a good thing I have a Student Metro Pass that let’s me go wherever I want at whatever time I want and however many times I want. So I got the Metro, went home, stapled my CV, urinated and got the Metro back to the city centre. So in total I was in my flat for less than 5 minutes. I can definitely see more of that happening this year.

Quotes of the Week

Fist up, I was in the accommodations office collecting my flat keys, and I see this poster on the wall about how you should report racism. Well, the officer is off finding out other stuff so I might as well read it to pass the time. Well, reporting racism can be good because yada yada yada and it can really help them by a number of different ways, but they can help you by “believing you and taking you seriously.” Well, that’s a bloody relief, isn’t it!? Can you just imagine them making fun of what you’re saying and then telling you to go away? That sounds like bloody Venezuela!

Later on we’re on one of our introductory lectures, and the professor is going over the whole passing rules and that stuff (ours is different from any other school’s so yeah) and he says that if you have a “pretty good failure” then they could pass you, but that it would have to be examined (that’s not overall… you see, the way the CS School works is that you have to pass both your exam and your coursework components.. so what he meant was that if you got a very good mark on your exam but you failed your coursework by a margin of 5% then that would be a “pretty good failure” so depending on your circumstances then you could be passed). Anyway, I thought the concept of a “pretty good failure” was quite funny. When you graduate you’ll get a degree diploma that says “Pretty Good Failure” and well, at least you didn’t flunk. I guess that means you’re the best of the shit ones. At least you’ve got that much to be proud of.

We then had a Time Management lecture with one of my favourite professors. That was hands down the best introductory lecture ever. The guys funnier than fuck. Just to give you a taste, before the lecture started he was fooling about in the internet showing us this flash game where you draw a line and then this small animated guy on a sleigh follows the line (crashing if your lines are unreal). He told us that he had spend hours on that thing because it was addictive… well done for time management, eh? As of today I’ve spend at least two hours on that crap game.

One of the tips he gave us was that if we really wanted to get something done, then we shouldn’t rely on PDA’s and/or other task-making software; if we really want to get something done then we should write it down on paper, because you know, “people have a weird relationship with paper.” As soon as he said that, the guys behind me burst out laughing which in turn then caused me to laugh. He then gave them a look and said “Yeah, you guys have too much time on your hands” and kept on.

He had another memorable moment in the lecture (well he had tons… but I’m just putting up the top two). He was talking about high paying tasks and low paying jobs (not money wise but satisfaction wise) and important and not as important tasks. He then talks about a low paying low importance task and give the example of washing the dishes. You can just put them off and survive for a long time without washing them. But then he says “although some might argue, because washing the dishes is dangerous. People can fall into the bin and stab themselves with a knife” and that caused the whole theatre to laugh hysterically. “No, it’s true! At least 5 people worldwide are killed yearly by falling into their bin and getting stabbed by a knife” and that caused some people to stop laughing, but other disturbed ones like myself to just laugh harder. I had a Rasmuson moment there… I couldn’t stop laughing for minutes. So well, they all now know that I’m a psycho, bit deal… they were going to find out anyway.

Lastly, the three of us (you know which three) were hanging around the city centre, and there’s this double jointed (so double jointed he was almost triple jointed) in the middle of the street performing some… erm… very original material. We decided to watch what this guy had to offer as we were killing time anyway. So well, lots of cool yet disturbing stuff and lots of jokes, but the one that caught everyone was when two guys that had been there for the whole show decided to leave right before the finale in order to not pay. He yelled back at them “those two at the back are tight arses… when they wake up tomorrow their girlfriends will be pregnant!” I’ll just leave it at that. Class.

Second First Impressions of Newcastle

Right, so a few things happened within my first week here that were somewhat unusual (to different degrees, but still odd).

First off, Jimmy, Vadim and I are driving to Tesco to get some stuff for the flat (and some food as well) and I happen to catch this cyclist run straight into a pole. Just like that. What a retard. As if that wasn’t enough, then the guy that was following close behind obviously didn’t have time to react so he crashed into the first cyclist. The second cyclist is understandably pissed off (apparently he hurt his arm) so he starts throwing things around, only for a fit lass to appear with her dog. That clears everything up. The first cyclist wasn’t an idiot… he was just looking at the girl instead of looking ahead. Never mind, he is an idiot.

I also saw this very fit girl walking up the uni steps with a huge box. What might it have been? Well, it was a dancing pole. Hell yeah, baby! I bet that block had a massive Fresher’s Week, those bastards.

In other news, this one is dedicated to Ercole. Remember how we saw that truck with advertisements on the back just driving around the city throwing away fuel? Well, I can now top that. I saw a van driving around the streets with advertisements on the back wasting British fuel (note the price difference)… and that wasn’t all: It was animated ads! But wait, there's more! It also had sound! I’ve got to admit that was a bit cool, but hey, a waste of fuel anyway. I wonder how much people pay to put their stuff on those trucks. Well, guess you could find out at www.mediadisplays.co.uk

I thought I’d just say that I’ve been here for almost a week now (at least at the time or writing, not sure when I’ll be able to post this on the web) and I feel as I’ve been here for months. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but I’d like to think it’s a good thing. I’m already settled and all that crap, so it does feel like home. On the other side, it might be because I’ve spent about what I usually spend in a month on this almost-week. Fuck those fuckers.

Intra-languages

So it’s been a pretty long time since I last wrote, but then, that wasn’t my fault. You see, we haven’t got an internet connection in our flat and the time that I spend at the uni is usually running around like a madman registering.

Anyway, enough of that. I’d just like to say that I had a very pleasant flight. I slept the eight hours from Venezuela to France and I didn’t have anyone sitting next to me on the flight to Newcastle. Given the fact that I’m not a people person, that was heaven sent.

So at the “Caracas” airport there was this mute girl asking for donations. As much as I didn’t want to give her anything, I actually didn’t have anything to give her (all I had were Pounds and no change in pounds… so seeing that everyone was giving her 2000 Bolivares I wasn’t about to give her 10 quid. The funny thing was, though, that she kept pointing and stuff (given she didn’t have a voice) and I “spoke” back to her through signs as well. It wasn’t as if I was doing it on purpose, but I guess that the whole silent thing is catchy. I think she was a bit annoyed at me for doing that, but I honestly didn’t do it on purpose. Am I the only one or do other people not talk to mutes?

There was also a giant. And by a giant I don’t mean Tiny. By a giant I mean a guy that was so tall that he had to duck in order to get through the metal detector thing. The second tallest person in the room measured up to his rib. I’m not making this up, I’m completely honest! He just stood above everyone else. You know that giant in Big Fish? Well, if it wasn’t because he was German and balding I would’ve thought it was him (oh, yeah, and he didn’t walk all crumbled up… R.I.P Giant from Big Fish).