| The Lucksmiths have a new double CD coming out. Awesome! |
[Sep. 14th, 2007|11:41 pm] |
| [Tags | | | egg, iaj, laugh at (insert random here), laugh at brinton, laugh at chris, laugh at mm, laugh at semps, laugh at subfuture, mm doesn't drink alcohol, mm writes essays of entries, my day, qotds, sdp, sleeepy..., thomas' snark | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  sleepy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Fog Of Trujillo, The Lucksmiths | ] |
Today was long. Amusing, yes. But long. Did I mention long?
I woke up at OMGWTH o'clock, despite going to bed at twelve thirty. I stumbled out of bed, and spent an hour or so in front of the Internet, trying to wake up. Then I printed out the SDP things I needed, and wandered off to make myself breakfast.
Packed up, headed in to Uni and got there before nine. Was intending on doing some work, but got distracted by shiny objects or something.
At ten thirty, I headed over to Building 5 for the SDP Formal Meeting. Andrew was in "ramble" mode, blaming the only four hours of sleep he'd received. Also in his "Talk before thought" mode, though that's starting to seem almost standard.
*People are reading out their timesheets
Andrew: Okay, now that that's done, on to the Project Leader's report...
Mm: Hang on, I didn't get a chance to read mine.
Andrew: Yeah, well, you should expect that, being a woman in I.T. Glass ceiling, and all that.
Mm: ... ...Don't make me hurt you.
Tutor: ...Now you're going to get it...
After the Formal Meeting, the team had a ten minute chat in one of the seminar rooms nearby. Then we drifted back to Building 10. I ran into Julia Prior, and stopped to chat to her. I went to the room to pick up my laptop, and chatted to Chris and Brian while I was there.
There was then a moderately epic journey to figure out where the Hell my teammates had vanished to; they'd hidden themselves in one of the obscure labs. *shakes head* I edited the Semantic Mapping in line with a couple of minor changes suggested by Andrew. We then had to shift labs, because the one we were in had a class. We when got to the alternate, I typed out and formatted the meeting minutes, and answered occasional questions from Andrew and Jefry who were doing normalisation.
At three o'clock, I shot through. Again, with intent to do work, but that didn't really happen. By four, I'd got bored, and decided to visit the E.G.G. boys. The Wii was on WarioWare. So much love. Except I'm realy bad at it, but who's counting?
At around five, I returned to the ProgSoc room to get changed and other such inanities. When I'd done so, Chris wandered in, so I packed up my IAJ stuff and we both went back to visit E.G.G.
Chris: What's this game involve?
Brinton: You run a race, and you get points. Then you get tied up and suspended over crocodile infested water, and the idea is to be the last one left.
Chris: You make it sound so appealing...
At quarter to six, I headed over to the IAJ lecture. Chris kept me company till the lecturer turned up, then wandered off to the ProgSoc room. The lecture was okay, but I was probably more focused on my watch than what the guy was saying. At quater to seven, I packed up and left.
I headed over to the room and dropped my bag. Chris headed over to Thomas' hidey hole to tell him that everyone had turned up. When they returned, we walked over to Building 1. Thomas, Chris, Nora, and I were attending the Annual Union Dinner or whatever - "Hey, presidents of clubs +1, turn up, listen to us blather, and we'll give you a meal!"
They had a set seating plan for the evening, which we carefully disrupted. On two separate tables, no less. Yeah, I thought it was an accomplishment as well.
Thomas: So, Margaret, am I going to be able to convince you to drink alcohol?
Mm: No.
Thomas: Come on, you don't even have to pay for it!
Mm: ...
Thomas: You can't tell me you think a single sip will kill you...
Mm: No. But I'd still rather not.
Brinton, for some reason that I can't even begin to fathom, had brought a syringe of thermal paste. To a formal sit down dinner. Yes.
The speeches mostly went on too long. But speeches generally do, I suppose.
Mm: What did the grape say when it got stepped on?
Chris: Did you say "The Granny got stepped on"?
Mm: No. The GRAPE.
Chris: I think I preferred my version.
Mm: ... ... ... I can't believe you just said that!
Yes, he was a little tipsy. Not excessively, but still.
ProgSoc didn't win Club Of The Year; big surprise there. The honour, such as it is, went to the Red Cross Society. As I pointed out to the others, ProgSoc didn't stand a chance; we're not "cuddly" enough. Oh well.
At the end of the last of the presentations, we shot through. Chris and I went to visit N.E.G.G. with Brinton and Amy, briefly. I confused Amy by laughing at her. We then left; Chris and I needed to pick up things from the ProgSoc room, and Brinton needed to pick up something from his place before he went to Amy's.
When we got to the room, we discovered Nora and Thomas still present, accompanied by Liz who was in vague states of fury; her laptop's hard drive had made a serious effort to die, and she didn't know how much was recoverable. We watched her run chkdisk for a while, then left her to it; Thomas and Nora to go home, Chris and myself to visit N.E.G.G. (again) then go to the buses. Chris managed to walk into the door on his way through it.
Subfuture (who's requested to be referred to by name; therefore, Will) is a confirmed sceptic of an engineer, who's obsessed with things like tarot cards and predicting things with a pendulum.
Will: Would you be willing to take part in an experiment?
Mm: He's drunk; would that make a difference?
Will: Probably make it easier... Opens the mind, and all that...
It turned out to be a mind-reading exercise: "Choose a memory from among the ones on this card, focus on it, project it to me, and I'll try and work out what it is."
Will: ...A fairly recent memory... Not too recent, though... Let me see... You were stung by a bee?
Chris: It was my first dog, actually.
Will: Right, well, that was a miserable failure. Note to self: Don't try to read the minds of drunk people, it doesn't work.
Chris: See, I was looking at Margaret, trying to give you a hint.
Mm: ...
Chris: Well, she likes dogs, and...
Mm: ...Except that he doesn't know that.
Chris: ...Oh.
We left. On our way out of the building, I gave in to temptation, and wrote some Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go) lyrics on one of the election posters. Hey, polls finished like two days ago, they aren't using them any more. I also showed Chris another one that I was tempted to edit, except they'd made it inaccessible to mortals.
Chris needed a bus ticket, so we headed up to the ATM, before he bought some at the 7-11. A punk with a massive mohawk had his hairstyle admired by some random in the convenience store:
Guy: How'd you get your hair to do that?
Punk: Hairspray.
Guy: What, six, seven cans?
Punk: No, just the one.
Guy: Can I touch it?
Then to the bus.
And now, it's quarter to one. And I have to get up at ungodly hours tomorrow, to go to Uni, to spend my weekend doing SDP. *sigh* Regardless, it's bed time. See you on the other side of morning.
-Mmaster |
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amused
giggly
calm
accomplished
confused