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mondegrin, if not chortle
Thursday, 15 March 2007 08:55 pmThis new Belle & Sebastian features a catchy little ditty1 called "The Blues Are Still Blue", which contains the line: "He dances in secret, he's a part time punk." I persist in hearing this as "He dances in secret, he's a Parktown Prawn", which is, to say the least, rather surreal.
Oh, yay, Thursday is over... my Thursday afternoon class runs for an hour and a half and has four people in it, none of whom are particularly forthcoming with discussion. I feel as though I've bodily picked them up and carried them through a medieval romance quest, complete with battle, enchantment and grievous bodily harm, or at least wistful fantasies about inflicting it. This afternoon was rendered particularly hideous by the remnants of loud lunchtime rock music on the plaza, and a helicopter on the rugby fields. (For no adequately defined reason). I don't think the universe likes me much at the moment.
I'm horribly behind with all sorts of e-mail, as my campus computer has finally refused to accept repeated applications of the boot at any price. Its boot-up process finds a C: prompt, kicks the cursor up to the top of the screen, and stalls, whimpering. Today, having waited three days for the IT people to come and collect the wretched thing for a Windows upgrade, I eventually tucked it under my arm and toted it up to the IT dept myself, fuming. (I only didn't do this initially because I'm paranoid about my gimpy arm and terrified I'll drop the beastly machine, but the energising effect of rage and frustration should never be under-estimated). As a result of computer-disability I have done no work at all since Monday, and will have to get cracking this weekend to make up for it. Bunny accessory fears aside, this chapter is very nearly there, and besides, bored now.
The Army of Reconstruction have very nearly finished the renovations: a small remnant of the troops invade tomorrow to put up the shower stall and attach the shower drain to the grey water system, and then they're done. Simultaneously, to the confusion of all beholders, an entirely new and different Army arrives to put in fetching, maple-flavoured, laminated wooden flooring. While I anticipate a pleasing and harmonious result, at this stage I'm just interested in moving the hell back in asap. Having Golux land on my head punctually at 5am every morning is tending to make me grumpy.
1 Fortunately it's one of the first four tracks on the CD, since my CD player, in keeping with the authoritarian dictates of my personal techno-jinx, only ever plays four and a half tracks of any CD before the laser head chokes.
Oh, yay, Thursday is over... my Thursday afternoon class runs for an hour and a half and has four people in it, none of whom are particularly forthcoming with discussion. I feel as though I've bodily picked them up and carried them through a medieval romance quest, complete with battle, enchantment and grievous bodily harm, or at least wistful fantasies about inflicting it. This afternoon was rendered particularly hideous by the remnants of loud lunchtime rock music on the plaza, and a helicopter on the rugby fields. (For no adequately defined reason). I don't think the universe likes me much at the moment.
I'm horribly behind with all sorts of e-mail, as my campus computer has finally refused to accept repeated applications of the boot at any price. Its boot-up process finds a C: prompt, kicks the cursor up to the top of the screen, and stalls, whimpering. Today, having waited three days for the IT people to come and collect the wretched thing for a Windows upgrade, I eventually tucked it under my arm and toted it up to the IT dept myself, fuming. (I only didn't do this initially because I'm paranoid about my gimpy arm and terrified I'll drop the beastly machine, but the energising effect of rage and frustration should never be under-estimated). As a result of computer-disability I have done no work at all since Monday, and will have to get cracking this weekend to make up for it. Bunny accessory fears aside, this chapter is very nearly there, and besides, bored now.
The Army of Reconstruction have very nearly finished the renovations: a small remnant of the troops invade tomorrow to put up the shower stall and attach the shower drain to the grey water system, and then they're done. Simultaneously, to the confusion of all beholders, an entirely new and different Army arrives to put in fetching, maple-flavoured, laminated wooden flooring. While I anticipate a pleasing and harmonious result, at this stage I'm just interested in moving the hell back in asap. Having Golux land on my head punctually at 5am every morning is tending to make me grumpy.
1 Fortunately it's one of the first four tracks on the CD, since my CD player, in keeping with the authoritarian dictates of my personal techno-jinx, only ever plays four and a half tracks of any CD before the laser head chokes.
 | Bunny Threat Level: Don't ask. Basically the techno-jinx is in the bunny accessory business. |
