Looking for a job. Looking for flatshare.
Called up the National Insurance people, got the form to fill up in the mail the next day (prompt much!) and posted it today. Hopefully it'll come back before the Christmas backlog. Fact: Unlikely. Also, various ads outside shop windows asking for part time staff so I've had to whip up a CV to hand in to them. However, most would be employers are put off by the fact that I do not yet have a National Insurance Number. Murphy's Law 1 - 0 Procrastination. For the lose.
That said, maybe with a reasonable amount of students gone for the holidays I might actually land a job in time with the National Insurance number secured. Assuming it gets through. All these ifs and conditions... pfft.
Oh, and I have found a flat, just off Byres Rd which is a miracle, available in January too, and all female flatshare making it, well, pretty awesome. Question is... will I get it? They have others interested in it, naturally, and as a 1st year undergraduate for some reason leaves me on the general grey list for most potential flatmates.
Seems all very sudden doesn't it, this looking for a new place when I was all 'I get a place for four years!' a few months back. Turns out, I'm a private person, even more private than I thought I would. Coupled with a disdain for constant small talk (or what I may unwisely percieve as small talk but probably is good will) that borders on (my definition of) intrusive, it's hard to get along in a family setting that is not my family. Easier if we're all on equal terms, with our own rooms, and shared living space for banter. Independence is also something I've come to highly regard, I need it.
sidenote: Hero of Our Time is great book.
So I need a new room in another flat, 'cos digs just ain't working out folks.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
guh
I hate nightmares. No, really.
There are weird dreams, strange dreams, very intensely odd dreams, and there are nightmares. They'd probably be the same if it weren't for the fact that somehow, when you're having a nightmare, you start freaking out inside the dream. It's not even a sudden shock, it's like the anticipation properly builds inside you and chokes in your mouth so you can barely breathe, all the while knowing whatever's wrong now is only going to get tons worse.
So there's talk about some creepy spy puppet/miniature toy creature that stalks the shadows and reports to the authorities in a perfectly dystopian world. Something bad is going to happen, and don't ask me how I know this, but I know this. I'm trying to get home, and I keep bumping into these bearded old men who move at a silent, galacial pace through the pitch black streets and corridors. I reach my room, and try to look for my keys, but I can't find them. Like, why do I have so many keys, and why do I have them in so many pockets, and why are they making so much noise.
It's so quiet besides and so, so dark, all I can see is a little line of orange light coming through the crack in my door (which I think has the number 2 on it, one of those gold plated serif type numbers). Someone's breathing can be heard off the side of me, and I'm just like, get out of the way, so I do. Only thing is, a guy promptly steps up to the door and it opens for him, so I sneak in past him and turn around... to find that I've suddenly shrunk in size. Turns out I'm supposed to be the evil mini dystopic spy person. He looks stunned, but I'm petrified at this realisation. I don't know what to do. I know I should say, 'You are under arrest' and that will be that, but I can't, and things start spiralling out of control even as a get the first words out.
Then I woke up, and the words were forced past in an inarticulate moan thing, apparently I can't work my articulators in my sleep, only my vocal folds. Honestly? That kind of situation/subplot really isn't that scary, but I was scared. Heart-pumping, adrenaline soaring, total flight reaction scared. Waking up screaming is something I do not want. Not being able to get back to sleep again till two hours later just makes it worse.
Nightmares. Guh.
There are weird dreams, strange dreams, very intensely odd dreams, and there are nightmares. They'd probably be the same if it weren't for the fact that somehow, when you're having a nightmare, you start freaking out inside the dream. It's not even a sudden shock, it's like the anticipation properly builds inside you and chokes in your mouth so you can barely breathe, all the while knowing whatever's wrong now is only going to get tons worse.
So there's talk about some creepy spy puppet/miniature toy creature that stalks the shadows and reports to the authorities in a perfectly dystopian world. Something bad is going to happen, and don't ask me how I know this, but I know this. I'm trying to get home, and I keep bumping into these bearded old men who move at a silent, galacial pace through the pitch black streets and corridors. I reach my room, and try to look for my keys, but I can't find them. Like, why do I have so many keys, and why do I have them in so many pockets, and why are they making so much noise.
It's so quiet besides and so, so dark, all I can see is a little line of orange light coming through the crack in my door (which I think has the number 2 on it, one of those gold plated serif type numbers). Someone's breathing can be heard off the side of me, and I'm just like, get out of the way, so I do. Only thing is, a guy promptly steps up to the door and it opens for him, so I sneak in past him and turn around... to find that I've suddenly shrunk in size. Turns out I'm supposed to be the evil mini dystopic spy person. He looks stunned, but I'm petrified at this realisation. I don't know what to do. I know I should say, 'You are under arrest' and that will be that, but I can't, and things start spiralling out of control even as a get the first words out.
Then I woke up, and the words were forced past in an inarticulate moan thing, apparently I can't work my articulators in my sleep, only my vocal folds. Honestly? That kind of situation/subplot really isn't that scary, but I was scared. Heart-pumping, adrenaline soaring, total flight reaction scared. Waking up screaming is something I do not want. Not being able to get back to sleep again till two hours later just makes it worse.
Nightmares. Guh.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
things i do on a saturday
I walked about for six hours straight today. I believe I am exhausted.
Watching a march/protest take place is slightly disturbing when a) you see children in the crowd, and b) you see masked hooligans waving an anarchy flag and getting testy with the bobbies. It's quite something to see a mass of policemen appear out of nowhere and form a human wall. Scary too.
It's also rather self defeating if you've got a march but with three, maybe four different agendas going on. You've got the anti-Fascists, then you've got the anti-BNP, then you've got the left wingers who're anti-everything, and you've also got the hooligans just wanting to make some noise and start a fight at the nearest opportunity.
The official rally at Glasgow Green was rousing, spoiled perhaps by the presence of the previous march conglomerate of students who had joined up with them. Post rally I heard some of them muttering among themselves that they'd spotted some Scottish Defence League members in Buchanan Street. For those who don't know, the whole reason why these marches are carrying on is because the Scottish Defence League had planned to stage their own march (which was denied by the council) this very day. The members had been sent off by the police earlier on, according to the speeches at the rally.
The SDL proclaim themselves to be anti-extremist only, but looking at the ring leader of the remaining little group, he was the very picture of neo-nazi football hooligan: sunken eyes, sunken cheeks, skinhead. That's not to say I'm with the anti-fascist protesters, some of whom proved themselves to be perhaps more provacative and prone to violence. Basically if the SDL had turned up and met with the UNITE crowd, things could've gone terribly wrong. I'm just glad it didn't.
Children though, I don't know, it's terribly wrong to see a child walk down a street carrying an anti-BNP poster solemnly. They aren't political creatures, they're not meant to be, and I doubt they can make such decisions for themselves. All fine for human rights and things, but the ones putting political banners in their hands unsettle me. You might say it's fine for something like this, because it's against the BNP and fascism and a human rights cause. But you're putting them among a crowd of people with mixed agendas, and not all peaceful, and you're exposing them to a spectacle of something they don't quite comprehend. I don't get that.
Yes so, now I'm editting the pictures and a giant post will go up on the photoblog soonish, so look out for it if you will.
Watching a march/protest take place is slightly disturbing when a) you see children in the crowd, and b) you see masked hooligans waving an anarchy flag and getting testy with the bobbies. It's quite something to see a mass of policemen appear out of nowhere and form a human wall. Scary too.
It's also rather self defeating if you've got a march but with three, maybe four different agendas going on. You've got the anti-Fascists, then you've got the anti-BNP, then you've got the left wingers who're anti-everything, and you've also got the hooligans just wanting to make some noise and start a fight at the nearest opportunity.
The official rally at Glasgow Green was rousing, spoiled perhaps by the presence of the previous march conglomerate of students who had joined up with them. Post rally I heard some of them muttering among themselves that they'd spotted some Scottish Defence League members in Buchanan Street. For those who don't know, the whole reason why these marches are carrying on is because the Scottish Defence League had planned to stage their own march (which was denied by the council) this very day. The members had been sent off by the police earlier on, according to the speeches at the rally.
The SDL proclaim themselves to be anti-extremist only, but looking at the ring leader of the remaining little group, he was the very picture of neo-nazi football hooligan: sunken eyes, sunken cheeks, skinhead. That's not to say I'm with the anti-fascist protesters, some of whom proved themselves to be perhaps more provacative and prone to violence. Basically if the SDL had turned up and met with the UNITE crowd, things could've gone terribly wrong. I'm just glad it didn't.
Children though, I don't know, it's terribly wrong to see a child walk down a street carrying an anti-BNP poster solemnly. They aren't political creatures, they're not meant to be, and I doubt they can make such decisions for themselves. All fine for human rights and things, but the ones putting political banners in their hands unsettle me. You might say it's fine for something like this, because it's against the BNP and fascism and a human rights cause. But you're putting them among a crowd of people with mixed agendas, and not all peaceful, and you're exposing them to a spectacle of something they don't quite comprehend. I don't get that.
Yes so, now I'm editting the pictures and a giant post will go up on the photoblog soonish, so look out for it if you will.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Bleue
Observation: Clear blue skies does not mean warmth.
Blue = Cold, very often these days. So I woke up Sunday morning (this morning too), with brilliant sunshine streaming through the window and I think to myself, 'what a wonderful world'. That is, until I switch the computer on and open up the internet browser, in which Yahoo promptly tells me it's 0 C outside. Thinking, 'No way... it can't be' and refreshing it in the hope that the reading was for the middle of the night makes things worse, for it then reads -1 C.
Right, a scarf it is.
Clear blue skies does however mean a greenhouse effect indoors. Which can be frustrating after arriving from narwhere all bundled up. All good though. Longer, warmer coats for the win. Running around in FBT shorts and just a single layer t shirt for the ultimate lose. Which, by the way, I did do just Saturday.
What can I say? It broke the monotony. Friend needed an extra for a film project, I agreed, was told to bring down light clothes for a cross country scene. And honestly, I didn't think it was going to be that cold. Nevermind that I had to wake up at 5am that day to be out of the house in pitch black at 6.45am, and was already in about four layers plus scarf. Reached the park they were filming in.
Cold.
Just before takes was probably the worst, as obviously the jackets/pullovers/trackies had to come off and well, you're left there in attire that would leave you chilled on a monsoon day in Singapore. Only this time it's what, 3 C? And the ground's wet, and your socks are already soaked through, and you can't feel your hands... and... yeah you get the picture. Nearing the end of the shoot I didn't even bother with the trackies and jacket anymore, because the onslaught of icy wind each time I took them off was too much to bear. Easier just to keep moving on the spot.
Yes, it really did break routine's monotony. (Also, I think I've sprained my ankle slightly because of it. Tada! One year guys, it's an achievement.)
In other news, I'm looking for flatshare. Digs ain't working out. Lovely people, granted, awesome food for the win, excellent location... but no. Preferring the thought of living with people closer to my age group. Preferring a greater sense of privacy. Even preferring the flexibility I'll have with when and where I choose to have my dinners without having to account for it with someone else.
One problem though, will be with finding people based in Glasgow, i.e. people who will not be away for the summer/christmas breaks. Another problem will probably be telling the landlord, what with being family friends and all. Still, I've spent about two and a half months here... and just, no. I cannot survive this. Obligatory emotional guilting and persuasion notwithstanding, I need to get out. Bit fast, you say?
Not really, not when your very room starts to feel claustrophobic, I don't think.
Blue = Cold, very often these days. So I woke up Sunday morning (this morning too), with brilliant sunshine streaming through the window and I think to myself, 'what a wonderful world'. That is, until I switch the computer on and open up the internet browser, in which Yahoo promptly tells me it's 0 C outside. Thinking, 'No way... it can't be' and refreshing it in the hope that the reading was for the middle of the night makes things worse, for it then reads -1 C.
Right, a scarf it is.
Clear blue skies does however mean a greenhouse effect indoors. Which can be frustrating after arriving from narwhere all bundled up. All good though. Longer, warmer coats for the win. Running around in FBT shorts and just a single layer t shirt for the ultimate lose. Which, by the way, I did do just Saturday.
What can I say? It broke the monotony. Friend needed an extra for a film project, I agreed, was told to bring down light clothes for a cross country scene. And honestly, I didn't think it was going to be that cold. Nevermind that I had to wake up at 5am that day to be out of the house in pitch black at 6.45am, and was already in about four layers plus scarf. Reached the park they were filming in.
Cold.
Just before takes was probably the worst, as obviously the jackets/pullovers/trackies had to come off and well, you're left there in attire that would leave you chilled on a monsoon day in Singapore. Only this time it's what, 3 C? And the ground's wet, and your socks are already soaked through, and you can't feel your hands... and... yeah you get the picture. Nearing the end of the shoot I didn't even bother with the trackies and jacket anymore, because the onslaught of icy wind each time I took them off was too much to bear. Easier just to keep moving on the spot.
Yes, it really did break routine's monotony. (Also, I think I've sprained my ankle slightly because of it. Tada! One year guys, it's an achievement.)
In other news, I'm looking for flatshare. Digs ain't working out. Lovely people, granted, awesome food for the win, excellent location... but no. Preferring the thought of living with people closer to my age group. Preferring a greater sense of privacy. Even preferring the flexibility I'll have with when and where I choose to have my dinners without having to account for it with someone else.
One problem though, will be with finding people based in Glasgow, i.e. people who will not be away for the summer/christmas breaks. Another problem will probably be telling the landlord, what with being family friends and all. Still, I've spent about two and a half months here... and just, no. I cannot survive this. Obligatory emotional guilting and persuasion notwithstanding, I need to get out. Bit fast, you say?
Not really, not when your very room starts to feel claustrophobic, I don't think.
Friday, October 23, 2009
unashamedly
Over the past month and a half I have realised a couple things about myself, some of which wasn't as apparent as before.
1. When seated, I am most comfortable cross legged, or at least when given the option to alternate with that. Perhaps this wasn't as big a deal before, but after a month of having to sit in a chair (the one in my bedroom) on which sitting even half cross legged was nigh impossible, I've had to shift furniture about yet again, using the chest as a bench against the wall instead. It feels so much better this way.
Honestly I've no idea where that comes from. It could be all the hours on the floor in DEP classes, or school benches, or just sitting at home in front of the computer where it was just easier to do. Something with being short perhaps.
2. I have no patience for eight year old tantrums throwers. God forbid should I ever have a child that they turn out that way.
3. Incompetence and inefficiency, particularly in conveying information and comminucation annoy me greatly. I'm sure we all know where this comes from. This is rather bemusing.
4. I enjoy, nay, desperately need time to myself. I've never had this desperate need to just be alone, not unless it was for some angsty reason borne of teenage troubles. Now in an environment where I'm constantly engaged in some sort of interaction with some one else, even at home, is very tiring. I don't mind friends, I don't mind socialising, but I do appreciate down time, for the sake of my own sanity.
5. I still hate writing essays. Okay fine, that was always apparent, but I'm just throwing that in here. Why that's somehow pushing me to take up another Literature course, I've no idea really.
Oh, and the examinations are closed book. Sorry, what? I thought we were supposed to go beyond mere word vomit regurgitating and enter into a higher level of analysis and learning. Apparently not, as the A levels here are still closed book. After two years of open book examinations, it's something I admit I have to get used to. Again. It used to be so easy.
6. Spicy has an entirely different meaning here. Possibly. As does the word curry. Had an essentially spiceless curry just last night. I will say no more on that. Also, I have a compulsion to eat with my hands whenever particularly south asian cuisine is served, and I do. Talk about a culturally diverse experience.
7. I will always be a strange, strange person. But that's what makes me shpesshial, isn't it?
snickers
1. When seated, I am most comfortable cross legged, or at least when given the option to alternate with that. Perhaps this wasn't as big a deal before, but after a month of having to sit in a chair (the one in my bedroom) on which sitting even half cross legged was nigh impossible, I've had to shift furniture about yet again, using the chest as a bench against the wall instead. It feels so much better this way.
Honestly I've no idea where that comes from. It could be all the hours on the floor in DEP classes, or school benches, or just sitting at home in front of the computer where it was just easier to do. Something with being short perhaps.
2. I have no patience for eight year old tantrums throwers. God forbid should I ever have a child that they turn out that way.
3. Incompetence and inefficiency, particularly in conveying information and comminucation annoy me greatly. I'm sure we all know where this comes from. This is rather bemusing.
4. I enjoy, nay, desperately need time to myself. I've never had this desperate need to just be alone, not unless it was for some angsty reason borne of teenage troubles. Now in an environment where I'm constantly engaged in some sort of interaction with some one else, even at home, is very tiring. I don't mind friends, I don't mind socialising, but I do appreciate down time, for the sake of my own sanity.
5. I still hate writing essays. Okay fine, that was always apparent, but I'm just throwing that in here. Why that's somehow pushing me to take up another Literature course, I've no idea really.
Oh, and the examinations are closed book. Sorry, what? I thought we were supposed to go beyond mere word vomit regurgitating and enter into a higher level of analysis and learning. Apparently not, as the A levels here are still closed book. After two years of open book examinations, it's something I admit I have to get used to. Again. It used to be so easy.
6. Spicy has an entirely different meaning here. Possibly. As does the word curry. Had an essentially spiceless curry just last night. I will say no more on that. Also, I have a compulsion to eat with my hands whenever particularly south asian cuisine is served, and I do. Talk about a culturally diverse experience.
7. I will always be a strange, strange person. But that's what makes me shpesshial, isn't it?
snickers
Thursday, October 15, 2009
late nights/early morns.
I should seriously start waking up earlier on a regular basis. That coupled with Irn Bru - cheaper and effective substitute to Red Bull makes for functioning so much better in classes. Which must be the pinnacle of irony in view of my glorious new daily schedule that allows me to get up so much later.
By earlier I mean between 5 and 6.30 in the morning. After 6 years of bemoaning the fact that I had to wake up at those times, it's funny how I now might want to. Besides, it's not entirely the same thing. I'm not expected to be fully functional at 7.30, and I don't have to lug a huge sack onto three buses one after the other. I can now actually wake up and get work done.
Which is of course, the general nerdy priority.
So we're reaching the end of week 4, and all I can say is, whoa, fast much. And it is. Considering that it's only 12 hours in a week, and it practically used to be that per day in the past, it's fast. Time to start writing that term paper soon, so consolidating my notes as much as I can. This leads back to the waking up early part because it does help, particularly when there's no one else up (sort of) and the place is quiet.
I enjoy the quiet.
By earlier I mean between 5 and 6.30 in the morning. After 6 years of bemoaning the fact that I had to wake up at those times, it's funny how I now might want to. Besides, it's not entirely the same thing. I'm not expected to be fully functional at 7.30, and I don't have to lug a huge sack onto three buses one after the other. I can now actually wake up and get work done.
Which is of course, the general nerdy priority.
So we're reaching the end of week 4, and all I can say is, whoa, fast much. And it is. Considering that it's only 12 hours in a week, and it practically used to be that per day in the past, it's fast. Time to start writing that term paper soon, so consolidating my notes as much as I can. This leads back to the waking up early part because it does help, particularly when there's no one else up (sort of) and the place is quiet.
I enjoy the quiet.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
night
So it's one of those nights again.
There was a time when the nights were so cold, so dreadfully void. When even the prospect of sleep presented such bleakness it was better to stay up blinking at a computer screen. Flashes of memories would cascade through the mind and end up in a world of consuming blackness. What did I say it was once? Hollowness, I think.
Happens all the time doesn't it. Nights: where you're dying because of all the work you have to trawl through and it would make a world of difference to have someone there, online. To chat with for a bit, rant a bit, then get on with your work knowing they're there with that green indicator beside their name. Just to have someone else there.
Tonight's not that night though. Because there are other nights, where you get a creative burst you just cannot let go of, and you're almost in a dream but not. Same kind of rush of images as before, but these you can amble and sift through at leisure. The quiet of the night is perfect for this, really.
That sounds so pretentious and overly dramatic. True though. I'm doing another illustration. Nothing with great meaning, but just thinking of things to put in it and the composition is going to keep me up for a bit. Images, motifs, something like that, spinning across my mind. And there's the night. This would be the perfect time for nostalgia, and in some ways that's getting to me. There's a peace too, that warm blanket come once more.
I'm almost sad you can't see me happy, if that makes sense. Haven't angsted in a month and a half, that kind of thing. Surreal. It's all still surreal. Surreal that I'm here, surreal that I'm settling in at an abominably quick pace, that my old accent's back, my voice. Surreal that I'll now be communicating mostly online with people I once saw every day, spent most waking hours with.
I might admit that I do miss you. All of you, any of you. Maybe it's because of that the tears come now. That you are not here with me. Selfishness of human nature, to want everything. For now you are not here to watch me grow, to hear me laugh, to put your arm around my shoulder. There is a gap, yes, huge and yawning and wide. An emptiness emotional, where a mass of human connections used to exist and breathe and sigh. Where it was expressed in ways more tangible than through a computer screen.
But I'll go on. Because I have to, because I want to. Because this is me: in returning to my childhood, I'm leaving it behind. And I know these connections will build again. New ones, but different, in the same place but not quite replacing all of the old. As will happen for all of us, really. It's just that distance compounds knowledge of the reality that we fade in and out of each other's lives, makes it more final. Physical separation is so much more immediate, acute. Something is removed, possibly replaced, changed. And we feel it.
We grow, we move on. We fade, we return, always changed, however slightly. And yes, we love and we live in all that, because we're all reaching out to someone, something, somewhere, somehow.
Ah, the Night. What thoughts you bring.
There was a time when the nights were so cold, so dreadfully void. When even the prospect of sleep presented such bleakness it was better to stay up blinking at a computer screen. Flashes of memories would cascade through the mind and end up in a world of consuming blackness. What did I say it was once? Hollowness, I think.
Happens all the time doesn't it. Nights: where you're dying because of all the work you have to trawl through and it would make a world of difference to have someone there, online. To chat with for a bit, rant a bit, then get on with your work knowing they're there with that green indicator beside their name. Just to have someone else there.
Tonight's not that night though. Because there are other nights, where you get a creative burst you just cannot let go of, and you're almost in a dream but not. Same kind of rush of images as before, but these you can amble and sift through at leisure. The quiet of the night is perfect for this, really.
That sounds so pretentious and overly dramatic. True though. I'm doing another illustration. Nothing with great meaning, but just thinking of things to put in it and the composition is going to keep me up for a bit. Images, motifs, something like that, spinning across my mind. And there's the night. This would be the perfect time for nostalgia, and in some ways that's getting to me. There's a peace too, that warm blanket come once more.
I'm almost sad you can't see me happy, if that makes sense. Haven't angsted in a month and a half, that kind of thing. Surreal. It's all still surreal. Surreal that I'm here, surreal that I'm settling in at an abominably quick pace, that my old accent's back, my voice. Surreal that I'll now be communicating mostly online with people I once saw every day, spent most waking hours with.
I might admit that I do miss you. All of you, any of you. Maybe it's because of that the tears come now. That you are not here with me. Selfishness of human nature, to want everything. For now you are not here to watch me grow, to hear me laugh, to put your arm around my shoulder. There is a gap, yes, huge and yawning and wide. An emptiness emotional, where a mass of human connections used to exist and breathe and sigh. Where it was expressed in ways more tangible than through a computer screen.
But I'll go on. Because I have to, because I want to. Because this is me: in returning to my childhood, I'm leaving it behind. And I know these connections will build again. New ones, but different, in the same place but not quite replacing all of the old. As will happen for all of us, really. It's just that distance compounds knowledge of the reality that we fade in and out of each other's lives, makes it more final. Physical separation is so much more immediate, acute. Something is removed, possibly replaced, changed. And we feel it.
We grow, we move on. We fade, we return, always changed, however slightly. And yes, we love and we live in all that, because we're all reaching out to someone, something, somewhere, somehow.
Ah, the Night. What thoughts you bring.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Thinking - What a horrifying thought
It's been a month since I've left the comforts of dependancy.
Yes folks, I've been doing my own laundry. Hey, don't put down the laundry, the laundry's a big thing. I've also been regularly shopping, since the fridge isn't big enough to hold too much food, and I'm not big enough to consume too much before the due date anyway. Among other things. Being independant, all that. Shocking, innit.
More shocking, I believe, would be the idea of me actually thinking. For I have a tutorial tomorrow, and I am bleeding my brain concerning the points of discussion. I've even got mind maps consolidating the lectures. Aren't I hardworking now. Pfft. Though this might just count as last minute work, it being the night before and all. Still. I'm doing work. Living off caffiene (Energy Cola) in the process. Though being able to think, without being totally gone (caffiene notwithstanding), quite happy for that.
[/shuffled off to work, and back again]
Oh and wow, I think I can squeeze in a bit of English tonight as well. Which, by the way, I don't understand a word of. Hooray for terminology I do not get.
Speaking of terminology, Oedipus Rex drags up a whole backlog of recurring themes and issues surrounding Athenian plays from hamartia to peripeteia (which I can never correctly spell) to the debate between fate and free will. I'm almost, just almost, feeling a twinge of regret at chucking away the photocopy of Aristotle's spiel on Tragedy. All greek? Hm. Indeed.
Right. Schoolwork. Here we go. This energy cola stuff is good.
edit: According to the timestamp, I started at 8pm. It's now half past ten. Hey, that's not too bad.
Yes folks, I've been doing my own laundry. Hey, don't put down the laundry, the laundry's a big thing. I've also been regularly shopping, since the fridge isn't big enough to hold too much food, and I'm not big enough to consume too much before the due date anyway. Among other things. Being independant, all that. Shocking, innit.
More shocking, I believe, would be the idea of me actually thinking. For I have a tutorial tomorrow, and I am bleeding my brain concerning the points of discussion. I've even got mind maps consolidating the lectures. Aren't I hardworking now. Pfft. Though this might just count as last minute work, it being the night before and all. Still. I'm doing work. Living off caffiene (Energy Cola) in the process. Though being able to think, without being totally gone (caffiene notwithstanding), quite happy for that.
[/shuffled off to work, and back again]
Oh and wow, I think I can squeeze in a bit of English tonight as well. Which, by the way, I don't understand a word of. Hooray for terminology I do not get.
Speaking of terminology, Oedipus Rex drags up a whole backlog of recurring themes and issues surrounding Athenian plays from hamartia to peripeteia (which I can never correctly spell) to the debate between fate and free will. I'm almost, just almost, feeling a twinge of regret at chucking away the photocopy of Aristotle's spiel on Tragedy. All greek? Hm. Indeed.
Right. Schoolwork. Here we go. This energy cola stuff is good.
edit: According to the timestamp, I started at 8pm. It's now half past ten. Hey, that's not too bad.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
shuttered
I am just recovering from the mother of all colds.
Colds are supposed to resolve themselves in about 7 - 10 days. Well, it is about 7 - 10 days. Colds can also last up to three weeks. So with drippinoseitis I had been attending my first lectures of the week, term, year, with no clear hope of recovery. Typical isn't it? It's almost just like me to fall sick on the first week of school. No wait, it is just like me.
What's new.
I've been taking photos for the Glasgow Guardian, the university's paper. Rushing them for the first issue more like, and all within this week. After years, literally, of not doing anything of the sort, it's been rather surreal. Even in TKGS, all I ever really did was drag a camera around during school events with no true goal/deadline in mind, seeing as the newsletter would be bi-annual and the yearbook yearly (obvious, I know). So this is probably the first time I've gone about doing actual assignments.
Two of these involved Sports photography, and this is where I realise it's been a long time since I've had to follow moving subjects, and quick moving subjects at that. The amount of stuff I've had to do for one issue is... wow, staggering, more so in light of the fact that I've not done anything like this before, not really. I covered a tennis game, a football match, got concept shots for a feature, shot various exteriors of things (alright, this I'm probably used to, but actively seeking out one particular building, probably not), drew an editorial illustration and submitted another one for an inside cover spread thing.
For a fresher, in the first week of school, for the first issue I'm part of the team, that is a lot. To me, anyway. Just sitting here, wondering what the next issues will be like, the work load for them, will it kind of spread itself out more over three weeks (this one was practically put together in one) or will it just mean more work. I've got the drawings that I want to keep up and occupy myself with, and yeah, I'm finding that I really enjoy photography again now that I'm doing it for some sort of purpose beyond let's-stroll-and-look-for-something-interesting.
Which reminds me. I need a scanner, and a printer, and I'm getting one. Not inkjet, and therefore not colour, since a laser-colour would leave me penniless. One of those all in one things, with the scanner/copier/printer functions. I refuse to travel to the library everytime I need to print something, and it'll be so much easier to use my own scanner when it comes to drawing. Assuming I carry on with that. Which I should.
(By the way, it is Google's 11th birthday. Random fact I just got from using the search engine.)
I actually like doing this. I might bemoan it a few issues later, but really, this is cool stuff. Getting a picture and saying to yourself, yes, that's a good one, and to see it used, credited, there in print (have to wait a bit for that one, but I've seen parts of the soft copy, so good enough there). Becoming increasingly comfortable with porting a camera around people is slightly odd though when you look back on it. I'm getting used to it, had to really, and I'm glad for that.
But this is kind of overwhelming. Not in a I-can't-take-it-exclamation-mark sort of overwhelming, just biggish..
Once again I cease making sense. So I'll stop here.
Colds are supposed to resolve themselves in about 7 - 10 days. Well, it is about 7 - 10 days. Colds can also last up to three weeks. So with drippinoseitis I had been attending my first lectures of the week, term, year, with no clear hope of recovery. Typical isn't it? It's almost just like me to fall sick on the first week of school. No wait, it is just like me.
What's new.
I've been taking photos for the Glasgow Guardian, the university's paper. Rushing them for the first issue more like, and all within this week. After years, literally, of not doing anything of the sort, it's been rather surreal. Even in TKGS, all I ever really did was drag a camera around during school events with no true goal/deadline in mind, seeing as the newsletter would be bi-annual and the yearbook yearly (obvious, I know). So this is probably the first time I've gone about doing actual assignments.
Two of these involved Sports photography, and this is where I realise it's been a long time since I've had to follow moving subjects, and quick moving subjects at that. The amount of stuff I've had to do for one issue is... wow, staggering, more so in light of the fact that I've not done anything like this before, not really. I covered a tennis game, a football match, got concept shots for a feature, shot various exteriors of things (alright, this I'm probably used to, but actively seeking out one particular building, probably not), drew an editorial illustration and submitted another one for an inside cover spread thing.
For a fresher, in the first week of school, for the first issue I'm part of the team, that is a lot. To me, anyway. Just sitting here, wondering what the next issues will be like, the work load for them, will it kind of spread itself out more over three weeks (this one was practically put together in one) or will it just mean more work. I've got the drawings that I want to keep up and occupy myself with, and yeah, I'm finding that I really enjoy photography again now that I'm doing it for some sort of purpose beyond let's-stroll-and-look-for-something-interesting.
Which reminds me. I need a scanner, and a printer, and I'm getting one. Not inkjet, and therefore not colour, since a laser-colour would leave me penniless. One of those all in one things, with the scanner/copier/printer functions. I refuse to travel to the library everytime I need to print something, and it'll be so much easier to use my own scanner when it comes to drawing. Assuming I carry on with that. Which I should.
(By the way, it is Google's 11th birthday. Random fact I just got from using the search engine.)
I actually like doing this. I might bemoan it a few issues later, but really, this is cool stuff. Getting a picture and saying to yourself, yes, that's a good one, and to see it used, credited, there in print (have to wait a bit for that one, but I've seen parts of the soft copy, so good enough there). Becoming increasingly comfortable with porting a camera around people is slightly odd though when you look back on it. I'm getting used to it, had to really, and I'm glad for that.
But this is kind of overwhelming. Not in a I-can't-take-it-exclamation-mark sort of overwhelming, just biggish..
Once again I cease making sense. So I'll stop here.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Freshers Flu
So it must be inevitable that I come down with Freshers Flu. That wonderful bug that gets passed around campus to everyone within the first week so that if you aren't smashed, you're knackerd anyway by the time your first lecture swings around.
Wonderful.
I suppose I should be glad that it does not as yet involve a grand amount of sniffling, but coughs aren't the most pleasant thing to experience, particularly when it's lodged in the chest. Trooping down to the pharmacy, they sold two kinds of mixtures, one that was honey based and another in a dark brown bottle that read 'Bronchial Cough Mixture... relieves chesty coughs and colds on the chest'. Perfect, I'm thinking. Buy.
Back home I follow the directions but before it even reaches my lips I smell this foul, strong horror. It's coming from the mug. Now it's been a long time since I was in the chem lab, but I know that smell. Ammonium Chloride. Please don't ask why I didn't see this on the bottle beforehand, but sure enough, on the side, it reads: (ammonium carbonate, ammonium chloride, guaifenesin). Okay whatever that last one is, I just downed Ammonium Chloride. 300 mg of Ammonium Chloride and 100 mg of Ammonium Carbonate. Isn't this toilet cleaner or something?
Fertiliser?
I feel ill. And it's not from the flu.
Wonderful.
I suppose I should be glad that it does not as yet involve a grand amount of sniffling, but coughs aren't the most pleasant thing to experience, particularly when it's lodged in the chest. Trooping down to the pharmacy, they sold two kinds of mixtures, one that was honey based and another in a dark brown bottle that read 'Bronchial Cough Mixture... relieves chesty coughs and colds on the chest'. Perfect, I'm thinking. Buy.
Back home I follow the directions but before it even reaches my lips I smell this foul, strong horror. It's coming from the mug. Now it's been a long time since I was in the chem lab, but I know that smell. Ammonium Chloride. Please don't ask why I didn't see this on the bottle beforehand, but sure enough, on the side, it reads: (ammonium carbonate, ammonium chloride, guaifenesin). Okay whatever that last one is, I just downed Ammonium Chloride. 300 mg of Ammonium Chloride and 100 mg of Ammonium Carbonate. Isn't this toilet cleaner or something?
Fertiliser?
I feel ill. And it's not from the flu.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
round one
One should not plan to attend a workshop/tutorial/seminar at one time slot then conveniently forget that said time falls on the lecture of another subject. One should carefully remember time AND day or specific classes so as not to have to go through yet another procedure to get that fixed, upon which it might not be that possible to make the switch.
Stupid 1, Commonsense Nil.
That said, courses are looking interesting. Incomprehensible, but interesting. Of course check with me again in a few weeks and my opinion might just change to Incomprehensible and nothing else. In almost typified mugger fashion I'm contemplating how to bind certain of my course texts. Shocking, isn't it. Serious business, I'm telling you.
Also in typified goody-two-shoes fashion I've completed my Academic Writing Skills online assessment thing, slightly under a week before the actual deadline. Murphy's Law had of course to step in, for lo and behold, the Mother had to call on skype half way through the test which a) was timed, b)could not be paused, c)had no live timer for you to keep track of anything and so was rather d)jitter accumulating. Big apologies to the Mother for not being able to chat and display my ugly mug in a window about 15cm by 10cm on a screen. Your daughter will have you know that apart from stupid mistakes in timetabling and general consumerism, she is doing exceptionally well.
So it's English Lang., Comparative Lit., French, a host of activities, and no job as yet. Yes, my room is very tidy (for now). Yes, I will attempt to keep it that way, 'attempt' being the operative verb.
What else.
Central heating has been replaced, so supposedly we're supposed to get heat but it's only just got on when I adjusted the dial down in the kitchen. Let's hope it keeps that way, because tonight's been chillier than usual. General rules, thou shalt not touch the boiler panel, which I did, or turn the dial on each radiator beyond half a degree, which I also did. Both of which made it work. My general belief in such a situation is rules are made for freezing you to death. Apart from that, yes, let's hope the heat keeps.
Funny though, it was fine in the day and I was out in shorts for a bit. I'm actually hoping it gets to normal weather so I don't boil in the lecture theatres, which very nearly happened today.
Stupid 1, Commonsense Nil.
That said, courses are looking interesting. Incomprehensible, but interesting. Of course check with me again in a few weeks and my opinion might just change to Incomprehensible and nothing else. In almost typified mugger fashion I'm contemplating how to bind certain of my course texts. Shocking, isn't it. Serious business, I'm telling you.
Also in typified goody-two-shoes fashion I've completed my Academic Writing Skills online assessment thing, slightly under a week before the actual deadline. Murphy's Law had of course to step in, for lo and behold, the Mother had to call on skype half way through the test which a) was timed, b)could not be paused, c)had no live timer for you to keep track of anything and so was rather d)jitter accumulating. Big apologies to the Mother for not being able to chat and display my ugly mug in a window about 15cm by 10cm on a screen. Your daughter will have you know that apart from stupid mistakes in timetabling and general consumerism, she is doing exceptionally well.
So it's English Lang., Comparative Lit., French, a host of activities, and no job as yet. Yes, my room is very tidy (for now). Yes, I will attempt to keep it that way, 'attempt' being the operative verb.
What else.
Central heating has been replaced, so supposedly we're supposed to get heat but it's only just got on when I adjusted the dial down in the kitchen. Let's hope it keeps that way, because tonight's been chillier than usual. General rules, thou shalt not touch the boiler panel, which I did, or turn the dial on each radiator beyond half a degree, which I also did. Both of which made it work. My general belief in such a situation is rules are made for freezing you to death. Apart from that, yes, let's hope the heat keeps.
Funny though, it was fine in the day and I was out in shorts for a bit. I'm actually hoping it gets to normal weather so I don't boil in the lecture theatres, which very nearly happened today.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
gas men and other things
As I'm typing this I'm due out of the house in fifty minutes, 8am, most torturous hour of the morning, because the gas men are coming in for the second time this week. Having come down with a cold, and taken paracetamol Wednesday night, I woke up yesterday morning feeling like I wanted to hurl. No pills last night, so my head feels fine today. Never mind the sniffles.
Fact, laminate is a pain to have up, particularly when the layer has glued it to the corners. They've had to saw through it, semi-neatly, which is quite a pity really, seeing how it's quite new. same for the upper hallway carpet. Bathroom linoleum is a goner, but what can you do? Anyway after this there'll be heat in the house, finally.
Also I'm finding that words I was once 'corrected' in pronunciation are actually said the way I did before. Hmm. Isn't that interesting.
Oh yeah, I'm not allowed in till 5 tonight, which my friends will be an exercise in the agony of boredom. To be fair most of the students are going to be moving in today, so perhaps I'll go see what they are up to. I have, believe it or not, been reading some of my texts in advance. Two down, three to go, but only one of those rather urgent.
Huzzah and it looks like clear skies for the day. Or clearish.
Fact, laminate is a pain to have up, particularly when the layer has glued it to the corners. They've had to saw through it, semi-neatly, which is quite a pity really, seeing how it's quite new. same for the upper hallway carpet. Bathroom linoleum is a goner, but what can you do? Anyway after this there'll be heat in the house, finally.
Also I'm finding that words I was once 'corrected' in pronunciation are actually said the way I did before. Hmm. Isn't that interesting.
Oh yeah, I'm not allowed in till 5 tonight, which my friends will be an exercise in the agony of boredom. To be fair most of the students are going to be moving in today, so perhaps I'll go see what they are up to. I have, believe it or not, been reading some of my texts in advance. Two down, three to go, but only one of those rather urgent.
Huzzah and it looks like clear skies for the day. Or clearish.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
faster food and faster days
Freezer foods are my friends. Microwave pizza, microwave pasta loops, more microwave pizza, oh yeah. Then there's cereal, of course, and cheese, who could forget cheese, cheese in glorious abundance. A pound to two pounds each for most of them. I am not going to go hungry. I'm not even going to cook. Well, not unless I really want to/have the time to/decide to be adventurous.
The days are steadily getting shorter. Just Tuesday it started getting darkish at about 8.45pm, now it's a quarter past eight and it's darker than that was at that time. A week from now according to forecasts it'll be setting twenty minutes earlier and rising ten minutes later than today's. I was left hopping about on the sidewalk after church today while chatting just to stop my lips from chattering, but maybe it was just the coat. Funny enough the lousier looking cheaper one is much warmer, I usually walk around with that unzipped after a while because it's just too warm.
Which is another thing. In the words of a friend, it's never bad weather, it's just the wrong clothes.
The days are steadily getting shorter. Just Tuesday it started getting darkish at about 8.45pm, now it's a quarter past eight and it's darker than that was at that time. A week from now according to forecasts it'll be setting twenty minutes earlier and rising ten minutes later than today's. I was left hopping about on the sidewalk after church today while chatting just to stop my lips from chattering, but maybe it was just the coat. Funny enough the lousier looking cheaper one is much warmer, I usually walk around with that unzipped after a while because it's just too warm.
Which is another thing. In the words of a friend, it's never bad weather, it's just the wrong clothes.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Hello again
The sun is streaming through the window.
Oh wait, now it's gone again. It's been doing that for the past two days, and the occassional shower, though weather's always been fantastic whenever I'm out. First time in ages I've been able to go in and out through the day so many times. Muahaha to less commuting.
Went down to the primary school and met Mrs McKinnon there. Somehow got myself into doing some painting with the kids. Promised to come back the next week same time so we'll see how that goes. It's a bit weird walking in there and feeling like everything's shrunk on you. Hasn't even changed much, the shedded playground area's still holding the same paint job when I was there. And I think Mrs McKinnon's still using the same desk.
I also keep wanting to make an early turn when walking down Hillhead to my old place. Some of the backyards there are done up a bit, and others have got themselves even more rundown. The lane itself hasn't changed, same puddles and all that.
From my room I can see the university tower. The sun's out again and I'll be out later to meet up with Richard-who-I-have-not-seen-face-to-face-for-eleven-years-ifyoudonotcountskype. Get to know the city again. Figure out how to buy a train ticket without looking too stupid. Anywhere beyond Byres Rd and I'm lost, so more walkabouts in the near future.
Oh, and the boiler's broken so no heat for the next few weeks. Gas men are supposed to come and refit the central heating system sometime, and they've got to take up some of the floor boards as they do it. Makes me think of shady hooded creatures creaking up the stairs and ripping carpets and floors up with dripping fangs and everything. Can't you just picture it?
Oh wait, now it's gone again. It's been doing that for the past two days, and the occassional shower, though weather's always been fantastic whenever I'm out. First time in ages I've been able to go in and out through the day so many times. Muahaha to less commuting.
Went down to the primary school and met Mrs McKinnon there. Somehow got myself into doing some painting with the kids. Promised to come back the next week same time so we'll see how that goes. It's a bit weird walking in there and feeling like everything's shrunk on you. Hasn't even changed much, the shedded playground area's still holding the same paint job when I was there. And I think Mrs McKinnon's still using the same desk.
I also keep wanting to make an early turn when walking down Hillhead to my old place. Some of the backyards there are done up a bit, and others have got themselves even more rundown. The lane itself hasn't changed, same puddles and all that.
From my room I can see the university tower. The sun's out again and I'll be out later to meet up with Richard-who-I-have-not-seen-face-to-face-for-eleven-years-ifyoudonotcountskype. Get to know the city again. Figure out how to buy a train ticket without looking too stupid. Anywhere beyond Byres Rd and I'm lost, so more walkabouts in the near future.
Oh, and the boiler's broken so no heat for the next few weeks. Gas men are supposed to come and refit the central heating system sometime, and they've got to take up some of the floor boards as they do it. Makes me think of shady hooded creatures creaking up the stairs and ripping carpets and floors up with dripping fangs and everything. Can't you just picture it?
Monday, August 31, 2009
Butterflies
Butterflies first emerging from their chryalis cannot take off immediately. Their wings are cramped, damp and useless, stranded. After leaving the confines of the cocoon, they still have to wait as blood rushes into those veins and the wings dry out. For some species this can take up to three hours.
This must be what they feel like, this wait. And I haven't even got butterflies in my stomach yet.
Then I'll fly, soar, and as I'm tucked safe (or as safe as a boeing 747 can be) within a metal eagle hurtling through the clouds, remember that I won't forget you. Yes, and I'll be happy, so be happy with me, for me.
The day's just beginning.
See you on the other side~
This must be what they feel like, this wait. And I haven't even got butterflies in my stomach yet.
Then I'll fly, soar, and as I'm tucked safe (or as safe as a boeing 747 can be) within a metal eagle hurtling through the clouds, remember that I won't forget you. Yes, and I'll be happy, so be happy with me, for me.
The day's just beginning.
See you on the other side~
Sunday, August 23, 2009
phrrreww
I've been absolutely knackered the past few days and no clue why. As soon as it approaches eleven at night I can barely keep my eyes open. If this keeps up I'll have no problem sleeping on that plane.
Anyway, fun fact of the day/week, a van passed today that read on it's side: "The best source for books" or something of that sort, and the company's name was 'PMS'. Ain't that brilliant? Made me laugh. Yes and flies that get caught in the updraft, downdraft, and general tornado like draft of the ceiling fans in a hawker centre nearly always come spinning down into one's hair, clothes, and the insides of one's handbag, as my cousin happened to find out.
Cutting off general communication from most people.. busy this week with the last of cleaning out my stuff and techy housekeeping. My room is much emptier though, seeing how the boxes were sent off earlier this week and the suitcase is out in the living area. This particular suitcase has already flown between Scotland and Singapore twice by the way. I feel like drawing on it with the marker we bought for labelling the boxes.
But what?
Anyway, fun fact of the day/week, a van passed today that read on it's side: "The best source for books" or something of that sort, and the company's name was 'PMS'. Ain't that brilliant? Made me laugh. Yes and flies that get caught in the updraft, downdraft, and general tornado like draft of the ceiling fans in a hawker centre nearly always come spinning down into one's hair, clothes, and the insides of one's handbag, as my cousin happened to find out.
Cutting off general communication from most people.. busy this week with the last of cleaning out my stuff and techy housekeeping. My room is much emptier though, seeing how the boxes were sent off earlier this week and the suitcase is out in the living area. This particular suitcase has already flown between Scotland and Singapore twice by the way. I feel like drawing on it with the marker we bought for labelling the boxes.
But what?
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
I would walk 500 miles..
I'm following the live feeds of the Norway - Scotland match. Currently at half time and it's at 2-0.
WHAT?!
C'mon. Scotland so needs to get into the World Cup. This is so infuriating, utterly beaten in the first half. Now I haven't been watching much footie at all the past few years, mostly due to time-zone differences and lack of cable. Well. And the busyness of school. But the Cup's just round the corner and after those wins against France there's no reason why the boys shouldn't get through to South Africa.
That said, I didn't know they sung 'We Have A Dream' recently on Children in Need. I adore that song. It's crazy brilliant, and I've been singing it since the '98 Cup. So chilling to watch a clip of the Tartan Army at Hampden singing it on Youtube. That and Loch Lomond (but that's a given really), and who could forget the Flower of Scotland. Best fans in the world, mate, and don't you forget it.
But this is so depressing, if they don't get through. Then all I'll be stuck watching is matches against England to hope they lose.
Oh for crying out loud. 3-Nil. Scotland where are you?
WHAT?!
C'mon. Scotland so needs to get into the World Cup. This is so infuriating, utterly beaten in the first half. Now I haven't been watching much footie at all the past few years, mostly due to time-zone differences and lack of cable. Well. And the busyness of school. But the Cup's just round the corner and after those wins against France there's no reason why the boys shouldn't get through to South Africa.
That said, I didn't know they sung 'We Have A Dream' recently on Children in Need. I adore that song. It's crazy brilliant, and I've been singing it since the '98 Cup. So chilling to watch a clip of the Tartan Army at Hampden singing it on Youtube. That and Loch Lomond (but that's a given really), and who could forget the Flower of Scotland. Best fans in the world, mate, and don't you forget it.
But this is so depressing, if they don't get through. Then all I'll be stuck watching is matches against England to hope they lose.
Oh for crying out loud. 3-Nil. Scotland where are you?
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
portraits
One thing that struck me while taking portraits of a friend today was that as a photographer, I'm very picky when it comes to having a shot taken of myself.
Usually I prefer not to, staying behind the camera lense instead of being in front of it. Any number of things can go wrong with the picture. My face could be at a funny angle, the light isn't shining properly, my right eye is visibly much smaller than my left, I'm squinting, not smiling right, so on and so forth. Yes I'm sure any number of those trigger happy folks who carry little pocket cameras about to take a dozen shots every metre or so care about such things too. I do find myself a wee bit more nitpicky than most.
That tends to lead to self-portraits, with failure following more often than not. Why not get someone to take the shots for me? Well, yes, except again they don't seem to turn out right and testing the patience of which ever kind soul is not my idea of fun. That and I like to edit the shots myself.
Though enough about that. I've realised that I like natural light, monochrome, and Adobe Bridge. Well I realised that qutie some time ago, today just brought it back to my train of thought, steam blowing out the chimney and all. I must say that Adobe Bridge is one of best tools I've used to edit my photos quickly. And nicely. It also helps when the subject matter looks good in the shot, which for quite a number this time prove true. Yes D, you can look good on camera (very good, actually). Shocking innit.
Oh, oh, maybe this'll mean it won't just be Hilary having a tag all to herself on ever-end.
Usually I prefer not to, staying behind the camera lense instead of being in front of it. Any number of things can go wrong with the picture. My face could be at a funny angle, the light isn't shining properly, my right eye is visibly much smaller than my left, I'm squinting, not smiling right, so on and so forth. Yes I'm sure any number of those trigger happy folks who carry little pocket cameras about to take a dozen shots every metre or so care about such things too. I do find myself a wee bit more nitpicky than most.
That tends to lead to self-portraits, with failure following more often than not. Why not get someone to take the shots for me? Well, yes, except again they don't seem to turn out right and testing the patience of which ever kind soul is not my idea of fun. That and I like to edit the shots myself.
Though enough about that. I've realised that I like natural light, monochrome, and Adobe Bridge. Well I realised that qutie some time ago, today just brought it back to my train of thought, steam blowing out the chimney and all. I must say that Adobe Bridge is one of best tools I've used to edit my photos quickly. And nicely. It also helps when the subject matter looks good in the shot, which for quite a number this time prove true. Yes D, you can look good on camera (very good, actually). Shocking innit.
Oh, oh, maybe this'll mean it won't just be Hilary having a tag all to herself on ever-end.
Friday, July 31, 2009
timely
Today I was given a new watch, which I am very happy and thankful for. This is, timely, as I've been without one for the past one and a half years. While it's all well and good to have it in one's phone, dragging that device out of my pocket/backpack/where ever it is, is not the most convenient thing to do contrary to belief.
Yes and there's the whole sentimental value package of 'I'll remember you all the time now' that comes with it. At least for me it does, c'mon, I get cheesy, it's part of my charm (kid me not). Twitch. Moving on. If I were superstitious and steeped in Chinese tradition, which I could not possibly be further from, I might view the gift as something unsavoury, deathly connotations and all that. Not so interesting fact for the day.
But I am not, and I really do like the watch. Timex Expedition, like my previous only that was metal links and this one's a leather strap, water resistant, with a backlight, analogue. I used to be extremely fond of those g-shock type sport watches with a 24hr digital clock when I was younger, but then I stopped being able to read analogue faces quickly, and that was irksome. Besides, my wrist is pretty slim, and big straps don't work too well on it, so I found out, and bulky sport watches don't go too well with anything above casual (not that I dress smartly at all, but nevermind that).
Oh yes, and I found something I'd written in my documents and posted it on Observing Time. Related to time and watches and sentimental rot in general. Never did expand on it, perhaps I might in the future. In the mean, time ticks on.
Yes and there's the whole sentimental value package of 'I'll remember you all the time now' that comes with it. At least for me it does, c'mon, I get cheesy, it's part of my charm (kid me not). Twitch. Moving on. If I were superstitious and steeped in Chinese tradition, which I could not possibly be further from, I might view the gift as something unsavoury, deathly connotations and all that. Not so interesting fact for the day.
But I am not, and I really do like the watch. Timex Expedition, like my previous only that was metal links and this one's a leather strap, water resistant, with a backlight, analogue. I used to be extremely fond of those g-shock type sport watches with a 24hr digital clock when I was younger, but then I stopped being able to read analogue faces quickly, and that was irksome. Besides, my wrist is pretty slim, and big straps don't work too well on it, so I found out, and bulky sport watches don't go too well with anything above casual (not that I dress smartly at all, but nevermind that).
Oh yes, and I found something I'd written in my documents and posted it on Observing Time. Related to time and watches and sentimental rot in general. Never did expand on it, perhaps I might in the future. In the mean, time ticks on.
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