Reasons why IH has no connection with reality...

[drakyndra]

1. The Formal Dinner tonight (and by formal, I mean wearing academic gowns and fancy clothes) was at 6:45 pm on the dot.
2. My last lecture finished at 6:15 pm.
3. Because it was a Psych lecture, there was no way I would skip it.
4. It takes about 20 minutes to walk back to IH.
5. When I got back, people were already in the dining hall.

Come on, people! How the hell am I supposed to actually get changed and all that for a formal dinner, when the damned things starts about 5 minutes after I get back to IH? There is no freaking time! And it isn't just me - all the Psych people were in a massive rush, and we still could barely make it on time!

I was just so annoyed with the incredibly stupid arrangement of the bloody thing, that I decided to Hell with it, and grabbed take-away from Union House for dinner instead (Yay for cheap Indian food!)

And from what I hear, the dinner is long and includes many boring speeches, so I really couldn't be arsed about the fact I am missing it.

And on a slightly less ranty note:

Got back my Maths assignment. 28 out of 35. Not too bad, though I might of actually got some marks for question 4a. if the damn lecturer had actually given us the bloody formula! *mutters about stupid tetrahedron questions*

My maths tute today was actually rather amusing. Sat next a guy called Rob, and then spent the entire hour trying not to giggle. Some choice comments of his:
(About lecturers): Get Scott, he's great! He wears a hat!
and
Me: "...at least you can hold a conversation."
Rob: "Cheese."

Oh, and we are supposed to get our Programming tests back tomorrow, and our Psych lab reports next week...

Also, have decided that though I probably should get my English essay done soon, I am currently too sleep deprived to try and do it tonight. Instead, I think I'll do it over the weekend. It may end up late, but it least it'll be better for my health. And I'll only lose 4%, considering it's 1 percent per day.

But English was rather good this week. We got to do The Wasteland by T. S. Eliot, which I rather liked, rather than the week before when we did BLOODY Lawrence with his BLOODY stupid ways of killing all the people who stop all his BLOODY women giving into his BLOODY superior males. Seriously, in one story, a women is killed when a tree falls on her. Really.

Oh, and I may have already mentioned that Plush Fish is great for coffee, but have also decided that Castro's Kiosk (what a name!) is pretty damn good also. Especially with interesting things like Vanilla and Hazelnut Lattes. Mmmmm....

Comments

[laurenthemself]

Which English subject is this? Sounds like Modern Lit, going by the authors. Hated Lawrence (except Lady Chatterley's Lover, but only because I wrote a fanfic version that was much better), but LOVE LOVE LOVE Eliot.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

*wibble*

This site has a hypertext version with links to sites for the source texts Eliot got bits and pieces from.

[drakyndra.livejournal.com]

Yep, it is Modern Lit. And I agree - Lawrence is very much of the evil, whereas I ADORE Eliot. and The Wasteland is freaking amazing. And you just went and quoted my favourite part...

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

Best. Line. Ever.

[laurenthemself]

So much <3 for the Eliot.

[drakyndra.livejournal.com]

Eliot is Da Bomb.