Need to stop

At some point I should stop watching Top Gear. Then again, they're in their 15th season. Top Gear is the most brilliant show in the world.

Link to another blog

The link

Title of this post: Hey, I'm a literal sort of person.

Favourite line: "there are things you can’t say. you don’t get to take back ten years, whatever your paltry reasons."

There are always things you can't say. Sometimes it's better not to say them, sometimes you don't have the right to say them. Sometimes, by saying them, you negate them. Silences are so complex and lonely. I think they are the hardest things in the world to maintain.

In other news:



(Just so you know, the reporter is apparently his girlfriend.)

If all World Cups end like this, football would have many more female fans.

Summer in Aber - Sea and Castle Ruins

Plus two of the pubs we frequent:

On football

Most of you will know that I'm not much of an underdog person. I always think the underdog has less to lose, you know?

Anyway, what I wanted to talk about is goalkeepers. I've always thought goalkeepers are really tragic. If the opposition scores a goal, they can't escape blame; if their own side scores a goal, they seldom have any part in it. There's something very tragic and heroic in the way they launch themselves in the way of incoming balls. It's almost as if they are the willing sacrificial lambs of the game. I would totally run away because I'd be afraid of getting hit by the balls. I'd make a lousy goalkeeper because I'd rather concede a goal than get hit by the ball. In truth, I'd make a lousy footballer because I'm afraid of balls that fly too fast and hard. Unless somebody invented slow-motion football.

I've discovered that I don't like things that fly, especially insects. I'm much more comfortable with insects that crawl, as long as they don't crawl very fast. Or maybe I just don't like things that move fast.

This article amuses me to no end. Go World Cup!

Hysterical, deluded and thoroughly English

"Unlike the English the French are able to switch off the team when they're angry with it. People are disgusted. But they don't go into the anguish of looking at the country as a whole. They just say the team are horrible people."

Not only do the English never learn. They appear to thrive on the masochism of outlandish hope followed by tragic defeat, he argues.

"I think people enjoy the ritual. Every four years it happens and takes you back to previous tournaments. It's a communal moment, people sharing the pain with each other at the bus stop. It's that thing about big World Cup games that end in tragedy - usually on penalties, ideally to Germany."

Nature is for laughs

Doubt

Just watched Doubt, which I'd always meant to watch but somehow never did. Wonderful film & extremely talented actors, though a bit too sombre for my mood today.

Also, I never thought I'd say this, but isn't football such a lovely sport?

It's slightly perverse. I hadn't touched my violin for months until the day I put it in storage. While waiting for the guys (actually, a lady. gal power!) to pick up my stuff, I played it in the kitchen (most of my housemates had already moved out anyway, and I also muted my violin), and it felt so good. And now that it's safely in storage and I can't get at it, I'm longing to play my violin. I know I'm crap at the violin, but there's something about the intimacy and closeness of the violin that the piano (or guitar!!!!!) can't replicate. It's almost like having a 2nd voice. Argh I need to just fall asleep and stop torturing myself.

slacking

It's absolutely lovely living by the sea (I mean, within walking distance of the sea). The weather has been wonderful and I have acquired an SG-worthy tan. It's so hard to stay in my room when the sun's shining outside, so I've developed a habit of going out to the sea in the afternoon and pretending to work there. And now that I've bought sunglasses, cap, and flip flops that I can actually wear outside, I'm less likely to totter home suffering from heat stroke, but much much more likely to skip my way home with sandy toes. I love Aber in the summer! The sea quite literally shimmers, and there're plenty of people walking their dogs at the beach, and it's nothing like those dreary winter months at all!



The beach is a lot busier than it seems in this picture. That's partly because I don't want anyone to think I'm taking pics of any of the bikini babes/topless hunks lying around, so I take pictures at the more deserted parts of the beach.

I used to 'work' in Spoon's when the weather was colder:



Now I 'work' by the sea:



Oh, and ice-cream by the sea? Heaven.

Yay girly mags!

Mags here are great! I bought a mag at 3.60GBP, and I got a 50ml shower gel (which smells great, by the way), a perfume sample (albeit the headache-inducing Alien), and a cappucino sample! My (new!) roommates got another mag for 2GBP, & got a Benefit eye-brightener (some makeup thingy), full size! So exciting!

Paralysis by analysis - Being your own Hamlet (why leave Hamlet to the actors?)

I hate marking essays.

I love House.

I have an assignment deadline on the 8th.

I need to finish marking by the 9th.

I'm not going to finish marking anytime soon.

What's Your Secret?

Fifty People One Question :: PostSecret: Confessions On Life, Death & God

In embarrassing music phase

David Ford: I Don't Care What You Call Me

I wanted to say something about the lyrics, but couldn't think of anything other than 'brilliant' and 'very genuine' and 'very real' and 'we've all been there before', which makes me sound like a talent show judge. I think I've no choice but to go with 'ouch'.

Incidentally, I have a presentation tomorrow which I haven't prepared for (oh damn, it's past midnight here, so that makes it today), which is why I'm surfing the net and blogging about songs.

New Favourite Song - David Ford: Cheer Up (You Miserable Fuck)

Still alive and kicking

Just finished my first year presentation yesterday, which didn't go too badly.

It's getting much warmer now, which is good, except there are now many many huge insects flying about and getting into the house. Not so good.

I can't believe I'm approaching the end of my first year... I feel as if I haven't done anything!

Country Roads

I was feeling a little troubled, so I randomly wandered down a lane behind my house today.



It was a (relatively) warm and sunny day, so the view was pretty good.







P.S. I actually have clearer pictures, but I'm developing a fondness for the blurry ones...

Sunset, Aberystwyth

So I was brisk walking down to library in order to return overdue books before the library closed, and walked into yet another glorious Aberystwyth sunset. Sunsets in Aberystwyth are generally rather glorious.

Yesterday, my friend was telling me about his trip to a waterfall somewhere in Latin America (I forget where). He was telling me how magical it was, because he was standing in the spray, totally soaked, and the sunlight was refracting off the water droplets, and it was like standing in the middle of a rainbow. His friend had tried to take pictures of everything, but they never came out. This was a memory he would carry with him to the end of his life, he said.

My campus is on top of a hill facing the sea. In front of the library, there is a large square with a beautiful view of the sea. It was Sunday evening, so the square was pretty deserted, except for a handful of people, quietly standing and looking at the sunset. This is the sun setting over the Irish Sea, and it's just one of those views that remind me how freaking beautiful our world can be. The entire sky is painted in shades of orange and purple and pink and remnants of blue. It's been a clear day, so there're only a few wispy clouds. Away from the blazing sun, in one corner of the sky, there's a crescent moon. The trees are mostly still bare, and the branches look as if they're glowing with some inner fire. The sea is shimmering, and you can see the now-familiar silhouettes of Aberystwyth town, the Old College, and castle ruins bathed in light. A flock of birds flies past, and you can hear the seagulls calling. Two planes pass by, probably heading to Ireland, with their trails catching the light and turning orange-red, and they look like two fiery comets streaking across the sky. It is a view to break your heart. I reach for my handphone to take a picture, and realise that I've left it at home.

Sometimes Aberystwyth can be a dreary town. It's cold and windy, the hill is an ass to climb, and there's really nothing much to do. But there is space here. I constantly look up at the sky because I'm always surprised by how vast the sky is. Under this sky, I could be anyone I want. I could fail and drop out and disappear if I wanted to. I could travel to any corner of the earth I liked. And there are glorious sunsets.

Except... except sometimes you can't have both love and freedom, and the most magical moments are those you fail to capture and keep.

Lalala

More flowers from LSB sitting on my desk.

More flowers from LSB!

This time instead of soft white and pink roses and lilies and carnations, they're a bouquet of many cheerful candy colours. They're on my study table now!

You know you're a post-grad with a deadline when...

You're faced with a choice between moldy bread, cooking, and starving.

Faced with a choice of moldy bread, cooking, or starving, you choose moldy bread.

(You can afford to die, but you can't afford to buy more food or the time taken to buy more food. Or cook.)

(You try to tear away the little blue spots first though. You are a highly intelligent post-grad after all.)

You're faced with a choice between expired milk and vodka.

(Red Bull ran out.)

Faced with a choice between expired milk and vodka, you choose expired milk.

(Because vodka's not a good idea when you're trying to write. Post-grad smarts again!)

Guess who's visiting the doctor tomorrow?