When cops are jerks
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: A plane flying over head
Okay, I admit that this hasn't been the best week for personal grooming. My hair's badly in need of a cut, my ratty shirt's got alot of holes in it and smells like cat pee and my cords are torn in several places and pretty thread-bare. I also shuffle alot more (1,2,3,4,5. 1,2,3,4,5.) but I was just on my way home from Sainsbury's with groceries (Bread, wine, a chocolate cake [Shh.. don't tell Elisabeth]) when I noticed a car following me. I turned around and sure enough it was the cops. I turned, they stopped. I resumed walking, they drove on, then parked a block up the street and watched me approach them & pass by. I hate that because whenever something like that happens, for some reason I can't walk like normal and today for some reason I affected a limp. uilty conscience I guess. Anyhow, they left me alone after I stopped to let a car full of a young family have priority getting out of their driveway.

I'd expect this kind of jerky behaviour in Egham but Woking? Sigh.

-Convict #78-55-40 out.

WWPD?*
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: The bathroom fan
*What Would Papillon Do?

Stop complaining about his dissertation on the blog and get to work. No mo' shenanigans. Your shenanigans will not be tolerated!

Public Transport Parade
Mood:  incredulous
Now Playing: Chumbwumba--"pictures of starving children sell records"
I took the 9:15 train from Woking to Weybridge. then the 9:30 from Weybridge to Egham. Then I walked to the bus termincal, where I caught the 10:04 bus to Slough (which has earned two National Titles: 1. The most boring place in Britian 2. The Armpit of England). I arrived in Slough to catch a bus I had no idea I had to take, which got me to the Wexham Hospital just in time for my 11:15 appointement. Despite the shabby building, the doctor was very competant and informed me that I have a permanent fungal infection in my ear, for which I must receive regular cleanings. They will be free if you must know. (That explains the shabby state of the building.)

And what is this mysterious cleaning you ask? Well, the doctor places an x-ray over your ear, and inserts a tiny vaccum into the ear and carefully sucks out all the little bits. For those of you who weren't aware, I ususally do my 24-7 with inflamed ear drums...but that's neither here nor there.

The good thing is, I only got to work at 3:30 today. But the bad news is I have to do it all again in 2 weeks. Perhaps I'll bring the camera and display the appaling scenery of Slough.

Putting My Foot Down
Mood:  rushed
Now Playing: the neighbor's TV below us
I will not disappear from this blog all together. I need to go to sleep now...having my ears cleaned tomorrow morning...

E.

What's black and white and has 5165 words?
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: Elisabeth doing the dishes
My dissertation, silly. 51% done. I really, really wanted to make a joke about passing the 1/2 way line and leaving dissertation hell for dissertation purgatory but I think that I only get to enter that fantastic place once I've handed the mo-fo in and wait to see in the profs have the common sense to give me a big fat 'F.'

In celebration of this mile (mill?) stone, here's a totally random section of my non-proofread little freakazoid:

"...possibly, and even heavier hand saying ?I don?t know what I believe but this is what I?ve done,? the spectator is no longer being talked down to, being told to buy whatever snake oil is being offered and instead left to her own devices.

Specifically, Barker does this by incorporating a number of juxtapositions vis-a-vis what the humanist theatre would have: Poetry and metaphor instead of accessible meaning; psychological unreliability instead of recognizable human types or political stereotypes with value; complex syntax instead of naturalism or realism; moments instead of goals; non-therapeutic instead of..."

(Yeah, I know it's egocentric gloating, but whatever...)

PS- This word count thing is really getting to me. I feel like Papillon in solitary confinement. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And when I get to that magical number of 10,000 - 14,000, I'll fall over.

Burnout Factor 5
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: The music of Elisabeth preparing spicy potatoes...YUM!
The yob is out with his 'mate,' drinking beer and driving his remote control mini cooper around the parking lot. I can only assume the screaming will commence shortly.

Burnout factor 5 today - not much writing got done so that means that I don't get any wine tonight. Sucky. Instead I get to do schoolwork. Got to push out 1000 words before bed. I bet Papillon never had to deal with this shit.

Ah well, at least my lovely has taken pity on me and is cooking yummy, yummy potatoes and grilled cheese with egg, tomato & onion. If there's egg, tomato & onion in it, does it still count as grilled cheese? It's the answer to such existential questions as these that true dissertations should be written on, not flakey things like 'theatre,' where it's spelled 're' even though it sounds like its 'er.' I blame the French. They're so elitest.

Gotta go - The rosemary is rolling across the floor and the old James Bond fight music in being played by the BBC. God bless those wacky Brits.

Buh?
Mood:  spacey
Stephen here, 40% sane, losin? hair, goin? grey.

There must be some weird thing going on with me ? as my life becomes dedicated to craving yummy, yummy potatoes and writing about absolutely modern, offensive for the sake of being offensive & elitist things, I?m really getting into old movies. I totally bought into On Golden Pond (Well, it was a play, originally) and Papillon was totally cool. Steve McQueen is the baddest movie mo-fo since Charles Bronson in Once Upon a Time in the West. John, if you?re out there, the book is on my immediate reading list once this dissertation thingy?s gone the way of the dodo.

Otherwise, life goes on, wine makes it worth living and, come September 1st, I won?t be thinking about a single? damn? thing. (Scholastically that is) for, well, for forever if things go as planned

PS ? Just got around to seeing the end of Papillon and it S.U.C.K.E.D. Talk about a cop out ? the film was already 2.5 hours long and they couldn?t bother to wrap up? 5 more minutes would have sufficed! Now I really do have to read the book.

Stephen in Dissertation Hell

26% done = 26% sane
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: Trains, trains, always the damn trains!
Ugh.
I don't know if I should keep blogging while I'm writing my dissertation. This might become a record of my complete mental breakdown or whatever's the opposite of a breakdown, I don't know.
Elisabeth's at rehearsal and I can't wait 'till I've handed this blankety-blank thing in so I can get drunk. Except I can't because I've got a big Job Interview at 10:45AM the next day.
Oops I said too much. ... don't want to jinx myself.
-Stephen (26% sane) out!

PS- I look forward to the day when I can go outside again, guilt free because I shouldn't be typing something up and screwing up my eyes staring at this monitor.

PPS- I wonder if there's some way to count my blog word-count towards the final word count of my paper. I suppose I could if I could figure out some way to add footnotes to this thing...

Oh my God
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: The hum of the fan, the sound of the trains
Writing your dissertation really really sucks.
But Bulgarian wine helps.