The Oncoming Onset Of Panic

Tomorrow is results day. The culmination of a whole years work *

Now I know I've passed, but what about that elusive Distinction?

My current average is at 65%, so I'd need about 78 + to acheive it. So likely, it isn't. Although for my last assessment I got 68% for my portfolio and in theory it should be better this time around, it does seem unlikely. It will probably be frustratingly close...

However, this Monday I start my work placement at Loaded magazine. As you can no doubt tell from this blog and my general colossal sexual prowess that I'm right in the middle of the Loaded target audience and will make for an extremely valuable member of their team, although I do make a shit cup of coffee.

*this is my own special definition of the word 'work'

My Mother...

My mother sent me this joke the other day:

Ron the rooster was the biggest, toughest, meanest rooster in the world. He spent all his time beating up all the other animals on the farm. One day he picked on the farmyard cat. Unfortunately for the rooster, the cat beat the crap out of him, which proves NO MATTER HOW BIG THE COCK IS, A PUSSY CAN ALWAYS TAKE IT*

You just, you don’t want that from your mum, you just don’t.

I’m gonna have to have a word with her again….


*yes, she did write that in capitals.

Me + Train = Bad

One: Falmouth to Stoke-on-Trent

When my train arrived at Truro I was surprised to find that the first three carriages had all the windows blacked out and were all unavailable. It turns out that an earlier train hadn’t made it all the way down to Penzance and they’d had to get what ever train they could.

The night train.

All the passengers, this was a Friday so we are a talking a lot of passengers, had to squeeze into three first class carriages. So I spent the next two hours sat on a bike rack desperately needing the toilet because the closest one was out of order and there were dozens upon dozens of people between me and the next one. The conductor personally handed out complaints forms along with pre-paid envelopes to send them. How kind.

Two: Blythe Bridge – Sheffield.

You’d think when no matter which direction the train is going, I could still get to my destination, that I would be okay. The train toward Stoke leaves five minutes earlier than it used to so I miss that one. Then the next one, half hour later going toward Derby, is cancelled without any warning. Blythe Bridge is bus stop style station with an information point which can’t be trusted: the point said nothing about the cancelled train only that the next train to Stoke was going to be ten minutes late. It arrived twenty minutes late, a jolly hour and twenty after I arrived at the station.

Three: Stoke-on-Trent – Truro

No bad incidents but because we were taking an unusual diversionary route, they’d overestimated the time, so we waited ten minutes at Bristol and Twenty at Taunton because the train was too early!!!

I was in Sheffield to see Muse. They were understandably excellent. I stayed at a friends of a friends house, he’d given us the key but not told us about the alarm. After half hour of noise he phoned back with the code.

BUTTON UPDATE
Well my new button is still firmly fastened, I was genuinely distraught however, when the coats other button came off during my trip. DAMN IT

My Achievements

Sadly, www.bloc-online.com - the website put together by myself & my fellow, now former*, students at University College Falmouth, did not win the Guardian Student Media Award - we came second.

I also failed to win, or come runner-up, in Radio 4 sketch writing competition.

But just when I thought I was a failure...

Whilst participating in the Penryn Seven Stars pub quiz, me and my fellow teammates came across a real stinker in the picture round.

We were given a selection of pictures which represented certain phrases or words, which we had to decipher. For example:

This is Tow(e) truck






Having got almost all of them right, we found ourselves struggling on the final picture.



What on earth was the answer?

Becoming desperate, I began to scrape the barrel with suggestions like Re-cow-very or Catt-ill.

But what was the answer? Oh yes dear reader, I got it...

Music (moo-sick)

You see! I am a winner after all!!!

Of course we only came joint third on the whole scheme of things, but I was the only person who got that answer, so I rule!!!

ENFORCED AMENDMENT: I have been asked to point out that my professional writing colleague, Ruth Underwood, made a significant contribution by getting all the answer correct in a test on the sign language alphabet**

I also managed this week to successfully sow a button on my jacket. It's not the same colour as the other one but another acheivement nevertheless.

*they took away my HMV discount - bastards

** Happy now Andrew

Adventures In a Budget Hotel In Shepherds Bush

I decided to treat myself while I was in london and decided to stay in a hotel. I went onto Yell.com, found the cheapest hotel with the best customer rating and booked it. Even then it seemed too easy.

I got the Euro-Hotel in Shepherds Bush. 3.9 out of 5 and £35 a night - sounded okay.

So I get there on Friday and check in, the room doesn't have a wardrobe but it has a big double bed and lovely large bathroom with a massive bathtub.

But it's supposed to have wireless and I need to get on the net to get direction to the public records office. So I tell the guy in reception and he moves me to another room. Bad idea

I should never have excepted it but because I was being a nuissance I did and I immediatly regretted it. The room was right next to reception, in fact it was the old reception. There was a little window looking out into the lobby with a blind pulled over it.

So that night it was noisy, and the cramped little room was boiling despite having the windows open. The radiator was only warm, how could it be so hot? Of course no ones drained it in a long time, the bottom half is on full.

So I complained and got moved again. This time to a room in a different part of the building, nice room again, even has a fridge. No wireless but I just want to have a quiet room and no fuss.

The next morning there's a knock on my door at around 9:40. The boilers in my room and it needs to be turned off. Guy comes in and leaves. Then I just happen to be about in the evening relaxing and man comes in again to turn if back on.

The next day the knock comes at 8:20. Obviously this p****d me off rather a lot.

On my final night I attached the following note to my door.

To Whoever this may concern

I do not intend to be woken up

AGAIN so that someone can get to

the boiler. I have bolted this door

and do not intend to allow access

until 9:45 at the earliest. Do not

knock you will be ignored.

I was not bothered that morning and nobody came to turn it off before I left my key in the door and left. Shame really, cos it ought to have been quite a nice place.

F**k I'm not a student anymore

Last Friday something terrible and deeply shocking happened - I stopped being a student.

It was a harrowing affair. I handed in 40,000 words to an office and suddenly it was all over. My right to sit and my arse and do fuck all - gone. my ability to get a pound off shades night club in falmouth - my ability to get a pound of the falmouth arts cinema - remains as long as they continue not to check the card properly, my 10% HMV discount - fraudulantly still active.

So I had a weeks holiday to recouperate. It's hard work not working very hard.

Here is a list of things I tried to do but failed to.

London Dungeon - half term = massive queues, the book in advance fast track queue was longer than the normal queue
Cartoon Museum - couldn't find it, then it was too late to go.
Comedy Store - sold out
Photo exhibition - not running in the evening
London Film Festival - all events on that night were shite

I also went to the public hall of records to find some trial records for a radio play I hope to write.
The file I wanted, described as being 'essential to study', was of course being used. So I went back on Monday, still in use.

This has lead me to create my theory of passport photography, photograph quality depends on usage.

My provisional drivers license, my only official ID had an awful, discoloured photograph of my with DVLA written over my mouth to make me look like I have metal teeth. I have to use this card all the time. Whether as my public records card, which I will probably only ever use once again, best bloody ID photo ever taken.

Coming soon... Adventures in a budget Shepherds Bush Hotel.