Hugo, of course, could never have won the post of Director of Representation, but perhaps he deserved it most. In the past week a number of developments have further shaken my faith in the St Andrew’s Student Union (not that it was not shaky to begin with). First, the university backed out of its plans to redevelop the main library. After this the university announced it was to sack three members of staff in the modern languages department. Sounds like Hugo’s predictions are coming true. What’s next? Perhaps the redevelopment of the union will halt and, in the president’s own words, be replaced with a paint job?

My first reaction at hearing the news of the university’s backing away from funding a full-scale redevelopment was of mild annoyance. How can the university promise something, which is certainly needed, and then go back on that plan? The reputation of the university is usually the main concern of those at the top, but how is “Scotland’s First university” supposed to keep a good reputation with such a poor area for study? I would have said that the library was a necessary concern; certainly a persisting problem. As Keenan (Keenan-the-hun, as I refer to him) rightly pointed out the university has been promising this redevelopment for over five years, as the university library has been rated as one of the poorest in the country. He also stated that other universities have just completed similar visions (such as Aberdeen and Edinburgh). I would have dismissed this as a side point, but I think that in this respect it is important to keep track of other university, or else the reputation St Andrews students are so proud of will disappear amongst the rise of the other universities in Scotland. Perhaps this is the reason for St Andrews decline? The figures in charge of the university, such as Dr Richardson, see only the reputation, not the actualisation of the university. They have a vision of the ideal, but do not realise that static ideals are impractical and impossible (an ideal university should be dynamic and progressive). Dr Richardson and colleagues also seem to be deluded into the vision of the university already being at the ideal level, not in need of further change. This is far from true, and I’m certain that this is not what they think. It was clear, from her reply, that Richardson acknowledges the uselessness of the library, but denies that the more recent plans are just for a fancy paint job.

My secondary reaction to the Keenan email was that of “well, my enemy’s enemy is my friend.” In this instance I spitefully saw the crushing of Keenan’s dreams of university redevelopment as justice after his treatment of Hugo, Hugo’s ideals and proclamations of the university’s assured short comings. This view doesn’t seem to get us anywhere, but perhaps it is not only justified after Keenan’s absolute denial of Hugo’s prophesies, but also rather good news for this generation of students attending the university. Maybe this is the selfish view that oil barons maintain, but I’d rather have a small scale development, with money being spend on expanding study areas and collections, rather than a full re-creation of the library. This is solely because a full redevelopment would interrupt my studies in their most crucial years (honours), when i plan on increasing my use of the library.

Richardson has promised to expand library collections, which is clearly of benefit to students, but why only take this conservative step, rather than going all in for a plan to redesign, redevelop and, ultimately, renew the library? I’ve already made clear good reasons for a full redevelopment (inter-university competition, the current inadequacies and the importance of keeping a promise made and renewed each year for over half a decade), and I’ve stated my reasons for why redevelopment is a poor idea, but what of Richardson’s excuse? is it a valid one? Dr Richardson ultimately denied the renovation plans because of the current economic environment. Rather conservative of her in my opinion. Possibly quite wise as well. After all, if the university goes spending $46 million + on a new library where will funds be at desperate times? Richardson has identified what necessarily needs updating about the library (i.e. collections and study spaces), and is spending a good seven million pounds on these areas. However, has she over looked anything? I would certainly add IT to this list. Library computers need updating, and more printers and working scanners need to be added to the library. This is less of a concern, as a majority of student have their own computers. My point is that Keenan might be right in his description of this recent plan as a mere paint job; it just is not sufficient to bring the library up to the standards of what is (supposedly) one of Britain’s top universities. However, making cuts on expansion seems more fair than introducing higher expenses for students, which would obviously result in inequality. It seems fair to save money for possible harder times ahead, as the government starts making cuts on universities. Despite this, it doesn’t seem quite enough to explain why we don’t have a new library after six odd years of being promised one (if I was doing a dissertation after my undergraduate degree I would be rather miffed). Even considering the recent investment in a new medical building, there was a good decade during which the university had relative security during which they should have put into effect their plans of redevelopment. After all, is that not what Edinburgh and Aberdeen did? In addition to this, I would judge a library for all students as greater priority to a medical building, which is only applicable to a thousand or so students (and they only attend the university for three, as apposed to four, years).

Are the university cuts fair to students, or remotely justified? I think that it was, perhaps a wise decision. under recent circumstances, spending on expansion of collections and study spaces seems like a better use of money than an expensive overhaul. I might be biased because a complete redevelopment would interrupt my studies, but I think on issues like this I can rightfully argue for my own benefit over some vague principle (that of fulfilling promises to students). I’m certain that at some point a full renovation is inevitable, but for now a simple expansion seems sufficient. I think my only reservation is that perhaps the cancellation of redevelopment plans heralds the arrival of more predictions made by Hugo during his campaign. Now with the firing of staff what will be next? the demolition of halls like Fife park and Albany to make room for new, more expensive residences and the cancellation of union renovation plans were the other predictions made by Hugo. I hope, for equality’s sake that cheaper halls are not disposed of. The union, on the other hand, is not great at the moment and probably could do with redevelopment and a make over, but the union is a luxury and unnecessary spending during the current economic climate is on the decrease. Maybe Hugo’s predictions will come true, and maybe he should have been appointed Director of Representation, or at least acknowledged as being right, after being rudely snubbed by Andrew “the hun” Keenan.

Oh, i’ve also included a few posters we designed for Hugo – i think they were rather good.

News just in! Results are out, Re-open nominations got 78, Terry got around 100, Hugo got over 200, Ted got 700 and Siena was the winner with over 1000. Not bad for a week’s campaign; also, I’m glad we beat someone, 200 isn’t too bad, it’s about 10% of votes.

Well, yesterday was a good day – started some Spinoza, who has what i would consider, an intelligent version of Descartes metaphysical account. Coming from a Jewish background he had a more liberal approach for the time and believed in a pantheist God. It does help that the lecturer is enthusiastic and interesting, but despite this i still find a few doodles piling up at the edges of my note paper; mostly caricatures of philosophers. My aesthetics tutorial made Hume mildly interesting, but i’m still not looking forward to Kant, in either philosophy module. After classes a few of us decided to go mountain boarding in St Andrew’s little known alpine region. Alpine may be an exaggeration, but it wasn’t an easy course for beginners like us. All three of us had had past experience of board sports, so it wasn’t impossible. Our newly discovered track is in some woods, on the outskirts of St Andrew’s. It’s on a reasonably steep slope, which twists around a few trees and culminates in a small jump. Luckily none of us broke anything; Dylan fell into some bushes and the board flew at my face once when i fell off, but i managed to push it away in the last second. Nat won the award for no falls.

I think that’s pretty much the most intersting point of the past few months, other than the ghosts. Last year, before getting the cottage, Nat and I joked that we might even have a resident ghost, we got lucky and have two apparently. For a number of months Nat and I have heard noises at night; just soft foot steps, knocking on doors, shallow breathing, but until now, when i put the heating off, i always assumed is was just the radiators making a lot of noise. it was hard to imagine a radiator changing positions, but the sounds do move about the room and in the hallway between rooms. one night Nat thought he heard me come out of my room, as he heard my door open and footsteps going toward my door, but there was no more sound, and when Nat texted me, to see if i was awake, there was no response. i hadn’t heard anything, fast asleep, and the following morning Nat came through to my room, noticing that my door was still slightly ajar. My second theory had been that perhaps i sleep walk, but since i hear noises too, we must both sleep walk – which couldn’t be, since Bryde (who stays some nights) has only heard noises once. Still, i’m sure there are lots of possible causes for the noises, and i would have readily believed them before Nat saw the ghosts for himself. He was just going to his room, turning the stairs to come level with the landing, and in front of him stood the very solid shapes of a young girl and an old woman. The old woman apparently turned and swept into my room, whilst the little girl disappeared. I was sceptical of the sighting until Nat’s younger brother, Mike, came to stay recently. We hadn’t even thought of bringing the subject up, as we dont usually until before we go to bed. Mike wanted to grab something from Nat’s room and he goes out the living room, and within a few seconds come back, face white, taking deep breaths, shaking a little. “I think there’s a girl in your house,” he said shakily. Nat and I looked at each other, as if to ask “did you tell him?” but neither of us had.

On top of the noises and sightings, we’ve also had objects move (like the wings of the dining table flap up and down, objects falling off the piano and a few other things). I reckon they can’t be maliscious, as they’ve not done anything other than appear in the four or so months we’ve stayed here – that is, if they even exist.

dont worry, at some point i will write a new blog entry – i’ve just been exceedingly busy with university work.

This morning, or rather afternoon, i woke my flat mate, Nat, with my music. to begin with he thought he was hallucinating heavy metal music, but with a switch to country he knew it must be me. Now Jupiter’s playing and there’s little less than an hour and a half of sun-light brightening the sky outside.

Has anything of note happened recently? probably not. Well, i did have a really good set at Altsoc on Friday night, but i’m sure no one really cares. I also saw “the Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus” last night. i could certainly rant about that for a bit, but to give you a synopsis of my opinion i thought it was visually very good. The plot lacked (in fact, i wasn’t sure if there was any substance to the plot at all, or any flow). The film was really just character interaction and the most interesting aspect of the film was almost entirely neglected (the incredible back-story).

The nameless uncle asked me if any of my views have changed since september. Well, considering that i dont remember september well, i suppose they must have done. In fact, in September i might have allowed this post to flow more smoothly, but i think that passing onto topics sporadically is more amusing and jarring enough to keep you attention. How does this connect? might be one question. Where did that come from? could be another. Well, since september i can safely say that i’ve begun to enjoy messing around with conversational implicatures. if anyone’s to blame it’s Grice, but i’m sure i knew about it all along, and just didn’t bother thinking about it. in fact, that was my main criticism of the film last night. the most important ideas were left to explain themselves (which was impossible). few things are self-justified, mirrors to the realms of an immortal man’s imagination probably least so. interactions between characters was well developed and settled, but the characters themselves still seemed strangers at the end. Although, Christopher Plummer’s portrayal of Parnassus was noteworthy. Tom Waits made a good Devil, but the character is such an over-used anthropomorphised Satan that it’s lost its originality and therefore most of its quirkiness and appeal.

i think that in addition to this my opinion of myself has most likely changed. well, perhaps not strictly, but explicitly it’s more at the front of my mind. for a long time i imagined a state of superiority in those older than me. well, i can safely say that age does not equate with wisdom, knowledge or maturity. with each age i assumed some secret that those older than me had been initiated into. perhaps this is why i enjoy reading H. P. Lovecraft. i really expected to feel “adult” by now, that i would feel in control of the world. dont worry, i’m not really a meglomaniac. maybe this is where i get to contradict myself? in a way, i certainly feel that i’m as young as i always have been, but at the same time i can feel the weight of responsibility that comes with existence. it seems odd that i’m here typing this, but i was also typing up my decent down Cotopaxi, or my ascent of the Himalayas, or my dislike of Christian fundamentalism. indeed, at each moment i am fully me, and at each moment past i was me. i used to think that there was one me, that was constantly changing through time, held together with memories, opinions and plans. i certainly think now that there has just been lots of different me’s with one identifiable label, and that the progression to new me’s gives the illusion of time. Have you ever noticed how slowly time passes when you’re bored? or how fast it goes when something fun is happening? well, that’s clearly because change is affecting differently in those occasions. it strikes me as strange that i still have those memories of past events when that wasn’t really me. perhaps that’s why i’m a nostalgic person.

i think there is one thing more i look at differently. Logic. Last year it was easy as one plus one, this year it’s like giving a primary school kid calculus to do. well, i suppose it’s all just very fast and requires a lot of practice. i take 30 credits in psychology, 20 of ancient philosophy and 10 of logic. logic is by far the most demanding (exercises due weekly, essays fortnightly), but it’s also my most interesting class – perhaps one for honors if i do well enough in it this semester.

Logic is one of the things i like about st andrews. the strangest thing just happened. i’m sure most of you are aware of Freudian slips? well, for some reason i typed “love” instead of “like” just above there… i wouldn’t admit to loving logic, it’s not that fascinating. i do like the walkability of St Andrews, especially now i live so centrally. i also like that fact that there are so many americans here – it makes me appreciate the Brits so much more.

in regards to walking, i have to admist i’m looking forward to walking Milo later this week (Jewish week, for those of you convinced that this is technically the end of the week) and getting a much needed hair cut. i hope Robert’s perfected his scissor skills. walking Milo wil mean i’ll have handed in the logic assessed exercise too, so i’m doubly looking forward to that. at least i’ve pretty much finished it.

i reckon i’ll just try and put up a couple of pictures and slam down some captions…

hmmm… should have done one at a time… they’re all showing up in one block. but never mind, at least there are a few pictures from my average walk…

number one. “The Improbable Coincidence Movie.”

Films that generally come under this archetype include teen movies, some horror and a number of romantic comedies. Generally comedies though. The problem with these films is not that they aren’t funny, but the fact that a number of unrelated incidents and near misses, lead up to a grand finale of failure. Often it’s due to a character’s ill thought out, or selfish decision, and leads to a momentous back-fire moment of humiliation which each new film in the archetype tries to out do. In horror, it usually results in death, or moving in on an ancient burial ground… yadda yadda yadda. Romantic comedies are almost always teen movies for couples or specifically for women. Or, they might be teen movies. Actually, it is a requirement for the teen movie to have a rom-com aspect; such as “the hottest chick in the year the character wants to nail,” “character Y finds out he’s in love with character X,” or the simple “virgin Z has never been laid: plot.” But by the end of the film we see a twist in the luck. Somehow, the seeds have been sown and it all comes together in an unlikely climax of coincidence. Or not.

Archetypal film: Eurotrip.

number two. “Love Overcomes Any Obstacle Movie.”

Well, this is almost always a romantic comedy, drama or period (costume) drama. Fraught with the kind of cliche that makes the resurrection of your shepherds pie possible (if you’re a guy), or makes you feel like inventing a special cup to catch your melted heart (if you’re a girl… or VERY camp). these films almost always have the same plot line. Boy really likes girl, but doesn’t think that girl is interested. Works hard to impress girl, to no avail. Does something they know is backhanded and sneaky. Girl becomes interested in boy and blissful relationship ensues. Girl discovers devious hitch to the relationship. Girl gets angry, and boy can’t do anything to get on her good side. Eventually she decides that she loves him and that love can overcome any snag, because, clearly, he did it because he loves her. These films are so dull, but beware! the reverse archetype in which the girl wants the boy. this can seem like an original plot, but it’s really just the old one, with the roles switched about. Even a blind person could see that. Death is the only good twist, and even then you’re left with the nasty taste of sentimentality.

Archetypal film: 40 Days and 40 Nights. Do NOT watch this one – it’s BAD.

number three. “America Saves the Day Movie.”

this is probably the one i despise most. Americans pumping up their egos, ridding the world of unconquerable evils. This one is often combined with the “Special Effects Movie” or the “God Exists Movie.” This kind of movie wouldn’t be so bad if the antagonist was localised to America (in which case you get one of the two in the line above), but with this kind of archetype, the entire world is being pulled apart be aliens, megalomaniacs or natural disasters. Fortunately, an American comes up with the brainwave which saves the planet, or co-ordinates the unbeatable strategic manoeuvre. What more is there to say, except that this is clearly a propganda movie?

Archetypal film: Independance Day (it’s the fact that it’s ON independance day and the cliche speech that make this the archetype.)

number four. “God Exists (and He’s Packin’ Heat) Movie.”

I love these films; they are among the funniest, most exciting movies of all. They always have retarded plots and villains who make the same mistakes again and again, but despite that, any normal human would be dead two minutes in; actually, there is always a lot of death just to prove this. There is always some farcical reason why the hero is indestructible (except in Predator, when Arny is crawling about with more broken bones than a packed herring, surviving just because he’s Arnold Schwarzenegger). Luckily the hero almost always knows how to use a massive array of weaponry and is a master at guerrilla warfare. There is usually a point at which the audience believe the hero is done for, but no! the hero can’t die, not until the grosses go down. James Bond is clearly God, how many films has he survived?

Archetypal film: Rambo (but Chronicles of Riddick was chronically close to getting the award; no way it could beat a classic like Rambo though.)

number five. “the Special Effects Movie.”

This is the worst kind. This is also the archetype which got me into categorising movies. what can be said about this movie? well, nothing really. it’s literally just a show case for spectacular special fx. if you’re brain dead from a long day of work, or just not capable of thinking, then this is the movie for you! the plot is constructed purely from cliche (if there is a plot), the characters are one dimensional (character development involves adding a second layer) and the ending is always full of explosions. Also, there is always a nu-metal riff during an over-edited fight scene. Fantastically terrible.

Archetypal film: Transformers (simply one of the most shamefully over-budgetted waste of time ever.)

number six. “the Thinly Veiled Mockery Movie.”

Previously, in the days of Leslie Nielson, satire was reasonably subtle and intelligent. Spoof movies had their own plots and would poke fun at other films with amusing references. The genre translated into an archetype with “Scary Movie,” getting worse with each sequel. Nowadays these movies are just sketches replicating the originals, strung together with cliche-acting-as-plot. There are no more twists on the jokes, no more spoofs of themes or cliche; just an exaggeration of the events and characters in an original movie. The most awful spoof is a satire of a comedy, that’s just a hi-jacking of jokes. Basically, it’s not funny when it’s too obvious that they’re slagging a certain film off, especially moment for moment. why can’t they be a little inventive?

Archetypal film: Date Movie (if there is one film on this list to avoid THIS is it. There was one scene which was just ripped from “Meet the Fockers.” Come on!)

number seven. “the Cat and Mouse Movie.”

Almost always a thriller or horror. Somehow, the characters never think of doing a “Scooby Doo” and catch the antagonist. They spend the whole movie running and hiding, whilst the characters are slowly whittled down. It seems to be the case that the slightly unpopular teenage girl, who warned people a couple of times of the threat, is the one who survives for the sequel. and there is almost always at least one sequel. “Scream,” despite being archetypal, is worth seeing as it makes a mockery of the usual cliche and highlights the archetypal aspects of the genre.

Archetypal film: “I Know What You Did Last Summer.”

This concludes my list of archetypes.

i have managed to get a job helping to write and edit a monthly newsletter for the Edinburgh Peace & Justice Resource Centre. i’ve written here and there for other things too, and i decided to try and write a futuristic satire involving Gordon Brown as a tyrannical pirate who invades the Ivory Coast in order to steal all the ivory.

I must admit i’m looking forward to returning to St Andrews, i always get bored over the holidays – especially this really long one. at least i get lots of chances to walk Milo. I got bored and thought of potential articles the other day. i was thinking about writing a blog entry about archetypal hollywood plot types. i might do a series of book or films reviews, old and new, just for my own amusement.

I am mainly writing this to keep some kind of timescale to this blog, it’s not as if there’s anything of interest to say.

i’ve actually had a bit of a busy time recently, especially today. i had a logic test yesterday (during which i almost asked for the other half of the questions, before realising that that was it). i reckon i did okay there. i did pretty well on my world religions essay, and i’m about to write one about the four noble truths and their relation to war. i managed to get on the committee for AltSoc, and i’ve still not had my psychology lab report back. the last weekend was the hall ball, which was fun in many respects (i might write a little something about it at the end for those who make it all the way through). i decided to see one of my friends last night and got back pretty late – sadly i had an early morning today.

i woke up thinking i had over slept, but my alarm had not yet gone off. as i was walking along the road in the morning sun (8:30) i realised that i would have to hurry. i jogged, carrying my crutches under one arm. i have become used to running after the other day when i had to sprint across town to make a psychology experiment in time. i arrived at the bus station three minutes too late; perhaps i’m not as fast as i used to be. i got the next bus as sat listening to Thin Lizzy as the bus pulled into the road. there was a curiously strong smell of hot cross buns, and after a few minutes a peered around. i barely had to turn before i encountered a large, round and bearded face; contentedly chewing on something bread-like. soon we arrived at Leuchars and an assortment of ages dissembarked. actually, they were all approximately the same age, but some had longer memories and more deterioration. i mean this in the way that for some reason atoms cycle through us and cells are regenerated – so really i dont believe in psysical age in that respect, just in mental age and the appearance of age. the bus bumbled onwards and soon after i realised that we were not moving as rapidly as i remembered. i looked ahead and saw a tail of traffic. at this rate i was going to be late. i had decided that by taking the earlier bus i would have time if i missed it (which i did), but now the provisional bus was being held up by a large construction vehicle. after reassuring myself that there was nothing i could do, i calmed down and waited to head onto the motorway. Pretty soon the Tay came into sight and we were cruising along the slender bridge towards the city. i waited as we made our way through the twists of the streets and at the bus stop disembarked and strolled along to Marks & Spencer’s, crutches in my right hand. i noticed a number 22 pulling away and began to run, until i noticed at a bus stop that the next one was coming in four minutes. after seven minutes i boarded the bus. the woman asked where i was going to and i barely heard her over “the Patient,” but i manged to blufff my way through and tell her that i wanted a single. she asked again so i replied with a question (i believe this is often a handy way to get through a conversation the other person thinks they’re having with you). after asking her the price she said more clearly that she wanted to know where i was going to. i told her and paid the price before sitting down on a chair reserved for disabled people. the bus took forever to get there, mainly because of the number of old and disabled people wanting a ride. this one guy in a wheel chair looked particularly malicous as he crawled up the gang-way on his electric tank contraption. he grinned devilislhly at me, knowing that he was postponing my appointment. i found it fitting that we passed a huge cemetary before the last turning. at long last we arrived and i went through the stain glass tunnel into the large foyer. on my left was shirt shop and a heinously over-priced WHSmith’s. i saw a shoe shop and a hair salon as i walked along towards the reception, thinking “none of this belongs here.” i was pointed in the right direction, walked past the chapel and down the stairs. i arrived at the door and decided it was time to start acting a little. i put on my crutches and hobbled in. after being directed to chair after chair and department after department, i was finally to be seen. i sat alone, waiting for a long time. i inspected a shoe horn, read some official forms and wandered over to my notes. it was then that i was told that it was illeagal to do, moaned about stupid laws and sat back down. and instance later the consultant came in.

he asked me how i had some to break my heel. i told him; i was looking over a particularly interesting bit of wall and i slipped down eight foot onto concrete. fortunately i landed squarely on both feet, but felt a terrible pain and was pretty sure i had done something stupid. i had even called NHS 24, but they couldn’t patch me through to an advisor, so i hung up and  Nat called my friend Peter, who barraged him with questions before imparting the number of the local hospital. Apparently the memorial hospital in st Andrews doesn’t do X-rays in the evening, so we rang an ambulance. i was whilst i was being seen by the doctor in A&E that NHS 24 rang up and said that they had tried to contact me before, but couldn’t. i told them that was because my phone had been off as it was forbidden to be used in hospital. they hung up. luckily i got away without a cast, and was kept in over night. it was the night before the Easter holidays, so i didn’t miss any course work, and after i returned i felt well enough to go about business as usual. i disregarded the crutches quite early, and as the consultant told me that i wouldn’t have to see him again, and that i was in the clear, i asked him about my weight bearing. he told me that i should try and put more and more weight on it and walk on it more frequently. i asked about when i could hand them back in, and where. he replied that i could return them once i could walk and could hend them in either at Ninewells of back in St Andrews. Since i was in Ninewells, i handed the crutches to the nurse and strode off. he called after me “oh, so you can walk?”

the bus driver on the way back seemed far more friendly and when i asked him if the bus went through the centre of town he jovially replied that it did indeed. we drove along, and as “Parabol/Porabola” came on a very large shape moved its way along the bus and settled its mass next to me. i didn’t really register it, as i was absorbed in the view out the window, the music and my thoughts of skateboarding down the travelator. then i felt a rustling and my leg and thought it was about time to pay attention to what was sitting next to me. i had hardly moved my head when i saw a small, brown dog peering up at me and wiping its face against me knee. i had the vague impression of an irritated woman’s voice before a chubby hand slapped the dog’s round head and dragged it away. the whole ride i only had a slight view of this person. basically their pug-boxer dog-thing, their hitting hand and their big white something which expended into my field of vision. i eventually got off the bus and strolled through the centre of Dundee to the bus station and home. A long moring – it was only twenty past 12 when i got back.

this is the longest post for a while, and here’s the hidden scene after the credits:

The Hall Ball.

my room-mate (who is currently forcing as many flakes of sugared corn into his mouth as possible) has very interesting priorities. it appears he is a massive fan of proper socail discourse, caffine and anything germanic. however, he has neglected the purchase of a suit. he is also on the hall committee, and as such helped organise the ball. i had told him (well, lied to him) for a while by saying that i wasn’t going to be making an appearance, although in the few days before the ball he told me that i couldn’t sign up for a table if i didn’t have a ticket. after revealing that i did have a ticket he didn’t find my joke particularly amusing. well, it was more of a joke for my own personal fun anyway. well, Alex scoured town and couldn’t find a suit anywhere. he was too lazy to go to Dundee and was beginning to dispair. he then noticed i had two suits. Well, i had been planning on wearing the dinner jacket, not the more casual linen suit. after a lot of discourse and discomfort i decided i would see how the linen suit would look with the dress shirt and bow tie. it looked pretty good, but i still didn’t really want to lend someone a suit which i had been kindly given for this occassion and future ones of a simialr nature. i reluctantly looked up some style websites, who reported that black bow tie was acceptable with navy suits and we did a trade off. since i had been avidly searching for my keys before i left home at the end of the holidays, i had forgotted to pack cufflinks, so he gave me his in exchange for my spare suit. he rushed out, got a shirt from a charity shop and a bow tie (not a clip-on, which might seem classy, but is really just a nuisance). well, at least i got lots of compliments on my looks that night (especially the shirt – so many thanks to my generous shirt providers). the food was nice, despite being lamb, and after a short interval (and by interval, i mean a ceilidh, which was too hot and sticky looking) a swing-old time rock band played a selection of covers. everyone was up and dancing, except my heel and a few others who were either socially inept, “preoccupied” with their dates or narcoleptic. me and Hugo (the most eccentric person i’ve met – actually, i might have met more eccentric, but they boarder on crazy, Hugo’s just very English eccentric) decided to laugh at a few of the daning styles. it was a good night over all, and it was the night i decided that alcohol wasn’t for me, after a glass of champagne and half a glass of red wine made me intensly depressed for half an hour.

well, i reckon that really is it. i know this has been long over-due, but at nearly two thousand words i reckon i’ve made up for my neglect. oh, and to anyone out there reading this who gets the reference; 4/20 was rubbish, i was feeling ill (and still am a little) and couldn’t find any entertainment in town – such a quiet night! well, happy birthday to Mum on Friday and Toby on Sunday, i hope you have a good weekend.

six words off the date. There.