At least the days are filled with joy

This week has been rather eventful. The weather was not a happy one on Thursday when Danny and I went skating, but we braved it and skated indoors anyway. It eventually gave in and dried up enough for us to go outside. Drink the bar dry was the following day, but I remained sober because I had drunk too much the day before and was still slightly hungover. When I got back yesterday, the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day, so I put my bikini on and went to Victoria Square to read my book in the sunshine. Timothy rang and said I was "outrageous" for wearing my bikini in public. I said "You're outrageous", but then realised a second later that he probably wasn't in the least.

Anyway, as I was packing up to go for a coffee with Edmundo, the phone rang and it was someone in a phony (ha ha) American accent pretending to be a charity of some sort. I laughed, and hung up after saying I didn't have time to answer their questions. Is it pranking season? And if it is, why me? It is quite scary though, how this person seems to know where I am all the time. The Darth Vader Pranking Company calls me when I am at work (on my work number) and calls me on my mobile when I am sunbathing. Perhaps it is time to be a little bit afraid, but then no one ever got anything done by being afraid.



Danny is so lovely when he is sober. He's positive, he's funny, and nice and just beautiful in every way. I saw him at drink the bar dry after he had done some drugs, and he looked like a zombie. I was really worried about him, he was walking around looking possessed, and I didn't know what to do or how to help him because he barely recognised me and kept running away. None of his friends were with him either. I have heard from him today, so I hope this means he is okay.



And speaking of addiction, that's Amy, Gavin's girlfriend, sucking her thumb. Guess some habits are more adorable than others.

Gripe

Today I went to the mall to get a pair of running shoes - the first step (ha ha) to the living Kylie dream.

I hate malls. To each their own, but there are a great many things that give me more pleasure than being in an enclosed space for hours spending money on things I don't need.

I'll tell you what I hate more than malls. Malls that shut at 7pm on a Saturday. I got there at 6.50pm, thinking i'd zip in, get my trainers, and quickly head back to the real world, but instead of the usual announcements of "Spend more than 8000pounds today and receive something you think is free!!", I heard "With the exception of Marks & Spencer, the mall will be closing in ten minutes"

I listened, mouth agape with incredulity. Surely it's against the law for any mall to shut at 7pm whatever day it is!

I realise this sounds like i'm sweating the small stuff, but (and I never thought i'd say this) i'm really starting to think i've had enough of England. I could spend time writing out a list of reasons why, but there is no need. I am just sick of seeing drunkards everywhere I turn, and I don't agree with welfarism.

Okay. Enough. I'm off to have champagne with some beautiful people who make living in England slightly more bearable.

Oh, by the way, did I mention i've completed my degree?

List of things i'm going to achieve this summer

1) Work out, eat right, lose weight.
2) Get a body like Kylie Minogue's.
3) Learn a dance routine to perform at school concert themed housewarming party (possibly the locomotion).
4) Design and create a showgirl outfit to wear during performance of dance routine.
5) Have performance recorded and put on the internet/sent to Sony - for unlimited smuggery and the possibility of superstardom.

Nice lawyers 4U

At about 4.30am yesterday, I decided I was going to call the commentary I was writing: "Crossing The Boundaries - The Mental Meanderings of a Self-Professed Hippie at a Criminal Trial". I am of the opinion that while the examination of witnesses may provide information, and glorify advocates in court, inaccuracy is an inevitable part of this process– either due to the way in which the statements have been obtained (intensive cross-examination, which serves to paint the picture the advocate wants the jury to see - whatever the cost may be), or malice on the part of the witnesses.

An academic argues that “Justice is not served if a witness is unable to communicate credibility to a jury. The search for truth is the ultimate and idealistic end of all litigated matter in a court trial”. To this, I have to say that justice is not served anyway. Since when did the search for truth start being 'idealistic'? Isn't that the whole purpose of the justice system? To put it simply, if people are getting put behind bars for something they have not done, simply because they managed to get hold of the right lawyers, justice will never be served.

I believe that in order for lawyers to stop being regarded as scum by members of society, more people need to go into the legal profession with something other than mega bucks and power trips as their focus. One of the ways to eliminate this cultivation of assholic behaviour, is to eliminate their glorification during cross-examination. Less drama, more focus on concrete evidence (such as that of the forensic variety - we live in an age where this is possible, after all).

And now, I'm going to sleep.

More on emails, focus Fwd.

This morning I got one that said "Beautiful Picture". Thinking it was in reference to some of the photos I put up last night, I opened it to find it was just another fwd. Too late, already downloading, might as well have a look at it.



As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.
Don't be afraid that your life will end,
be afraid that it will never begin.
Send this to all of your friends in the next 5 minutes
and a miracle will happen tonight

I've noticed a trend. The same people tend to forward the same kind of emails time and time again. So many categories, but you know, there are the "hopeful" ones, such as this...the "send this to all your friends or some of them won't like you anymore" types...ETC. The authors of these hope-filled emails also tend to repeat themselves to sound right/for emphasis, and while I find it annoying, forwarders lap this shit up big time.

"Every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Always remember that there are one hundred centimetres in every metre. Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin. If you are waiting for bus number 9 and it does not turn up, don't be afraid to take the number 8 as it goes along the same route....."

WHAT THE FUCK EVER MAN!

I'm sorry, but being the chaser that I am, I say if you wanna see your friend, go knock on their door if they're nearby, call them if they're not, or write to them. How impersonal is a fwd that has been sent to 800kabillion people in the world??

I forgot, and this and that.

Whenever I get an email from a friend...wait, lets start again. Whenever I get a personalised email from a friend, I always get very excited. I can't wait to open it and see what it says, maybe s/he's attached pictures/songs etc etc - this is because I feel that person has taken the trouble to write me and therefore the email deserves my full attention. This is the same concept as Kangaroo Dan's, which is that "every frame has been chosen for your viewing pleasure" - in reference to video editing, and not talking (ever ever ever) during a movie (especially TopGun which sucks hehe).

I'm not talking about the forwarded emails on why women are better than men (although I do sometimes attribute my lack of luck in love to not forwarding enough chain emails). If someone sends me a song/picture/article in an email, I look forward to reading/viewing/listening to it and giving feedback. Chris forgot to listen to the song I sent him.

Here, I would like to point out that the amount of attention I pay to "emails from friends" also varies from friend to friend. How is that quantified though? While i'm prepared to accept that maybe "Chris just doesn't care", I too have been guilty of ignoring some of the things my closest friends have sent me. Does that mean I don't care? No, it just means I had other stuff on my mind. So maybe he does care. Except I think he doesn't.

Good news

The UK has launched the International Graduate Scheme. In a nutshell, this means that instead of being chased out of the country when my student visa expires, I now have a year after I graduate to stay in the UK, get work experience, build a career etc etc. I can't tell you how happy I am over this.

Darth Vader Man

Recently, I have been receiving calls from a strange person with a Darth Vader voice. The number is witheld, of course. I think this is supposed to intimidate me, but it's quite amusing, really. Darth Vader has rung me three times now. Twice at work, and once yesterday night. I can barely make out what he's saying. I let Tim listen to some of the stuff he said when he rung yesterday and he thought it was really funny (I rarely see Tim laugh like that). Theories I have developed are:

1) Darth Vader man is Tim and he has some kind of device/program at home that records these conversations so he can go home and laugh at me. And send recordings off to radio shows for other people to laugh at.

2) It's Gavin and Alex. I rang them yesterday but they denied it. I still think they have some part in this.

3) Darth Vader man is really a woman, and has a Darth Vader voice transformograficolourhappyeverafter.

4) It could be Chris Chow, Koku's housemate. Kevin pranked him from my phone about bog roll earlier this year, and maybe he has somehow found out it was us and wants revenge. I hope he isn't finding that out through here though...

5) It could be Kevin, but I think he'd sooner die than refer to me as "cutie pie".

6) The guy from the Indian takeaway behind my house. I once had a dream about him where he was chasing me through fields from England to Malaysia madly waving a cleaver in his hand. I don't know how we crossed oceans, maybe through some kind of intercontinental farming system...

Ah, anyway, Darth Vader man, if you're reading this, cut it out.