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Haven't had much of a chance to blog of late, as two writing deadlines and three job application deadlines have ended up on four consecutive days. As is the way of the world. My head is currently full of jargon about what a wonderfully enthusiastic team player I am, and the like. It's not particularly easy trying to make an English Lit degree sound even remotely relevant to the real world.

Fortunately, I haven't managed to get the two confused, as I'm not entirely sure prospective employers would appreciate being emailed about bras. Still, the GC is currently visiting, and it gives me a valid excuse to take refuge in my laptop rather than having to feign interest in the football.

In other news, I have discovered that the Bible doesn't spontaneously combust when I swear an oath on it. That was a definite relief, I was expecting the solicitor to declare me damned by God.

Perhaps luckily, it was just the New Testament and Psalms rather than the entire Bible. Any of that Old Testament stuff about fraternising with gays, wearing mixed fibres or daring to be around other people during that time of the month, and I'd have been straight up in flames.

Things I have learned in the past week and a half

1) Bernard Cribbins thinks Great Uncle Bulgaria and Madame Cholet were at it.

2) It is possible for me to write 9,000 words in the space of a week. Not necessarily well, but at least written.

3) Sensation fiction is far too long.

4) There's an outbreak of norovirus at the moment. Despite this, the GC assures me the stomach bug he's had for the past week isn't at all contagious, and is turning up tonight. I'm legally allowed to murder him if I get ill, right?

5) It is impossible to write a cover letter without sounding like an idiot. And apparently "please hire me, I'm awesome" isn't acceptable.

That's pretty much it. The past week or so has been a fascinating combination of either essaying or sleeping - with the exception of seeing Bernard Cribbins at the BFI (who was fecking awesome, and I want him as my grandad) Also headed to the launch of Birds Eye View. They had free wine. I was happy.

Om nom nom

The GC sent me a man eating shark to try and keep me cheered during essay hell.

It's to play with in the bath (no, not like that, you filthmongers). The man (George) is attached to a pull-cord, and as a result gets chased round the bath by the shark (Sharky). I'm delighted that somebody has finally realised I quite often have the maturity levels of a six-year-old (and the language skills of a fourteen-year-old). After all, "there's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes." Or, in my case, often.

Basically, it's fucking awesome.

2150AD! 2150AD! 2150AD!

Incase you didn't catch that, it's 2150AD!

Why I can't hate Auden...

"The Victorian father who said he would rather see his daughter dead than on the stage was less foolish than the modern parent who cheerfully allows his children to go into advertising or journalism."

W. H. Auden, The Prolific and the Devourer.

How to get your five a day the easy way

1) Large glass of red wine. Think of all those grapes. Healthy. Or a pint of cider. Apples are good for you. Beer is made out of hops and though I'm not entirely sure what they are, the fact they grow on trees qualifies them as a fruit.

2) Jelly Tots are now made with 'real fruit juice!' If Innocent smoothies count, so do these.

3) Pizza. Tomato sauce on the base = one serving of fruit. Bonus points if you have something like pineapple or mushroom on top.

4) Chips are potato, which is a vegetable. Unless you buy yours from Iceland, in which case I claim no responsibility for what may be in them.

5) Fruit & nut chocolate - the clue's in the name.

My university is trying to kill me

This is my schedule for May:

17th May:
10,000 word dissertation due.
2,500 word essay due.

18th May:
3,000 word essay due.

20th May:
5,000 word project due.


I'm not actually going to live to see 22.

Eek

I have started applying for graduate jobs. This terrifies me. I don't want to go out into the big bad world, I want to stay a student forever. I like not getting up until midday and spending all my time reading and being able to go out drinking any night I want. Sigh.

Real life is knocking at the door. I'm trying to ignore it.

Being Human

Last night I headed into to for a preview of the new series of Being Human. Which was, as expected, awesome. BBC3, Sunday, 9:30 - watch it. It's good.

The Being Human blog explains all. And they have the advantage of having their very own Aidan Turner, who is very pretty and therefore deserves to be appreciated aesthetically. Preferably on a cinema screen, but a brief video will have to do for now.

The only major drawback was queuing in subzero temperatures outside the cinema for an hour. I think I've just about managed to defrost.

The thing that surprised me slightly was the mix of fans. I'm used to wandering along to Doctor Who stuff, which is 95% male - the majority technically old enough to be my dad. This was full of very loud teenage girls (and their mums), which made me feel slightly old and haggard.

The advantage is that we got to go to the pub afterwards. Where the lovely Simon and his lovely friends plied me with red wine. All I really remember about getting home is falling over more often than usual. Icy pavements and drunken staggering are not the greatest of combinations.

It took me slightly by surprise - while Westminster have actually bothered removing ice from their pavements, Hackney (surprise surprise) haven't. So I walked out of Old Street station to find myself arse over tit. It would probably have been easier to just roll home.

Hiatus-ish

I will, at some point, be blogging tales of Christmas and volunteering. But sadly, I'm being attacked by essay deadlines and boring as they are, I need to write about Auden and villainous parents and whatever-the-other-one-is-it's-due-in-last-and-I-haven't-even-thought-about-it-yet.

Basically, volunteering was a brilliant experience that I want to write about properly, not just use as a tool of procrastination.

Normal service will resume (well, start) towards the end of January. Providing I haven't bludgeoned myself to death with a copy of the Complete Auden.

(Oh, and yes - we have lots of snow. Everyone's talking about it, I thought I may as well join in).

And I've got myself some FREE TICKETS to see Measure for Measure in March. I love the Arts Council.

Injuries accrued over the Xmas period

1) I somehow managed to open the bathroom door on my head.

2) During a post-Doctor Who fight with the GC over the TV remote (I wanted to watch EastEnders, he didn't), I managed to fall off the sofa, land on the coffee table, and bugger my shoulder for the next few days. I still wasn't allowed to watch EastEnders.

3) I slipped over in the shower, old lady style.

I think the first was possibly my most spectacularly stupid injury of 2009. My life basically tends to be an endless montage of the first ten minutes of an episode of Casualty.