バレエ観賞（そういやシルヴィア見に行ってきました！すげー高いチケットだった。おまけに踊り子一人倒れたし。二度と見に行かない）しか楽しみがない私にとってアニメと漫画は特別である。なんでかって？

１．金がかからない。
２．外に出なくて済む。

そんなわけでＤ．Ｇｒａｙ－ｍａｎの７２話を探していたのですが…

こんなものに遭遇しました。

な、なんと！宝塚のエル・アルコンのポスターだそうです。エル・アルコンを読んでいない私にとってはあんまり興味もない代物だったんだけど…青池先生の漫画は読んでますからちょっと興味あったんで、はい。

そんなわけでしげしげとポスターを見てみた後、ティリアンの顔を思い出してみました。

ってこのポスターグロイ！エグイ！シツコイ！ウザイ！

大体ティリアンってスペイン人っしょ。

スペイン人でこんな唇厚いのってムーア人だぞ。

つーかティリアンってイタさん系なんすけどね、顔は（ってなんでティキミック調）。

「ロベリア～♪、乙女の乙女による乙女のための会、別名ヅカ部！」なんて声が聞こえてきそう。（あと環君の悲鳴ね）

ちなみにこのブログを読んでロンドンにルミナスがうじゃうじゃいると思っている方々、残念ながらそんなやついません。レディングには結構いたけどね。

あ、一人いたか。ジャンキービリー。１月半ばから行方知れず。ブリクストンで逮捕されてたりして…

何の事じゃいと思っているそこのあなた！まだ呆れてはいけません。私にはくだらなく心配していることが山のようにあるのだ。

とまあこんなわけで数学の中間テストが返ってきました。って…

まあ、首席だったからいいんだけどね…

ってこのPoint of Inflection　の定義の違いは何？何これ？！

同じ英語圏だろうが！意味を変えるな、馬鹿ヤロー！

と言うわけで一点引かれました。ま、答えはあっていたし、よしとしようか。（宿題の方はもうちょっと気を入れてやらなきゃなー…定義を書かないと言って点数引かれてばっかりいるし…）

ちなみに昨夜の約一時頃、地震がありました。地震なんてなつかしー！日本出て以来地震なんて経験してないよ、あたしゃ。

Today was infested with Japanese, calories, and weird occasions. Not saying that's bad, but after being away from Japan for so long it can get slightly eerie.

I woke up around 6:30 for no reason, stayed in bed till 10:00. Today's plan: Get to Richmond, get some food either at Subway (to the right of the Richmond Station), then head over to Maison Blanc (left of the station), grab some cake, then go to work.

On the train I encountered to Japanese females who were squealing about Madam Tussaud's. They had the typical look of "I didn't get good enough grades in high school to go to a university so I worked my butt off to save up some money to go to London, and now I'm going tourista and looking like an idiot and embarrassing my fellow Japanese". I inched away before I got discovered that I was one of them.

Well, suddenly I decided that I wanted to eat my lunch at Maison Blanc as well. It was a little pricey, but it was well worth it... I ate "Mediterranean", which was really good (love those dried tomatoes), and Concerto, which was really ironic because I was reading through Brahms' Concerto then. It was awfully good though. Hmm.

Taught the sisters (the elder's getting better, although it took her 5 minutes to get 100 divided by 5... it's 20, idiot.)

Then something awfully weird happened.

You know how you're supposed to have two other people in the world who look just like you? (Well, maybe we only say that in Japan. Dunno.) Anyway, as I was coming out of Subway, I saw a guy in the shop next to Subway who looked EXACTLY like Billy. Even wore glasses like him.

My thought? "Wait a minute, he lives in freaking Surrey, and it's 5:00PM in the afternoon on a Sunday. Why the hell is he in Richmond?"

He walked behind me, followed me to the station, then disappeared.

Came home on the bus after grabbing Teriyaki Chicken in Subway after all, where I encountered another duo of Japanese females, who were saying something like "London is da place to live in, foshizzle!" (okay, maybe not the ghetto talk but something close). I pretended that I was too busy looking out the window.

Got home, and my other student wasn't there. My thought: what the?! Apparently I didn't "pick up the phone", so without waiting for five minutes she just went home. It's not like she's a busy woman, oh no! Then she blamed it on me. But since this is business, I was the one who apologized. Maybe I should quit my job with that retard. She's not paying me enough anyway.

Most likely the "Billy" I saw was a random dude who had fluffy hair like him and wore weird glasses like him.

But... it was pretty damn freaky.

Actually, Nicholas Cage never stepped on my foot. That was just to get your attention (cue in Pathetique Sonata). But if he did, I'd sue the ass out of him to get money and publicity. Ha (:P)

But actually, Nicholas Cage does make an appearance in my post today. Let me explain.

This week just plainly sucked. I went high on caffeine, overdosed on caffeine, went through hell trying to detox caffeine, did not sleep decently, did not eat decently (but then again, that's nothing new). I just had a really shitty week. Not only that, one of my students has failed to pay me for two weeks consecutively, and I'm about to fire (?) her if she fails to pay the coming Wednesday. People come to me for damn help while they go out drinking... and I have come to a discovery that I REALLY shouldn't be helping them anyway, I never needed their help in the first place (considering that I can just borrow one of the elder student's notes, for instance), and that quite frankly, with my excruciating schedule with 3 students, studying biochemistry, orgo, stats, and modern physics, studying for the exams, I just don't have the time or the energy to care about others anymore. There are some things that I've been wanting to do that I couldn't because I was so busy (like... visiting my guardian's house, for instance). But that's that.

On Friday night at precisely 3:41AM, just as I was dozing off after rolling around my bed in sheer agony and nausea, my phone trilled out the baroque ring tone that can become really annoying if it keeps ringing. I woke up just in time for the voice mail to switch on... so, after 30 seconds or so, I accessed my voice mail. Here is the message I received:

"Heeeeeeey! I'm at Paddington right now! Come pick me up, mate."

It was in a guy's voice. It sounded utterly drunk. My first thought was "Er, who the hell is this guy", since I couldn't place the voice. Or the number. So I had a random drunk guy calling me at 3:41 AM to pick him up from the Paddington station. (Note to readers: PLEASE check the number before you hit dial, please? Promise?)

My next thought was "Do trains even RUN this early in the morning around Paddington?" Considering that the tube does not, my logical deduction said no. So what the hell did this guy want?

Me, being quite uncharitable and frankly too tired to care, decided not to pick the mystery guy up from Paddington. Hell, he can be mugged and see if I care. It was his damn fault for dialing the wrong number. I went back to bed.

And could not go back to sleep.

How much does that suck?! A lot, let me tell you. So let's summarise - here was this idiot who called the wrong number at a ridiculous wee hour of the morning, asking for whoever it was meant to to pick him up from Paddington. And because he dialed the wrong number I got to be the poor victim who was woken up at 3:41AM, just as I was recovering from caffeine detox, to get a message that wasn't even for me! I'm pretty sure the guy was not Lady Macbeth but he sure did kill off my sleep.

Then today just sucked. To start off, I had an awful dream in which I was the 11-year-old offspring of Mr. and Mrs. Smith from the film Mr. and Mrs. Smith. What does that mean? It meant that Brad Pitt was my father and Angelina Jolie my mother. That was quite traumatising in itself. As if that wasn't enough, Orlando Bloom was my idiot brother who seemed to revel in the fact that he was pretty. Never mind that I think he's one of the ugliest creatures seen on the 6 ft screen these days. His utter gayness was bordering insanity.

Mummy Smith, AKA Angelina Jolie, asked me to go down to the pantry to get some bananas because she was baking banana muffins. (I have no idea what Daddy Pitt was doing... don't want to know, in all seriousness.) So I went down to the pantry, which was in the basement for some reason (I personally think that pantry in the basement is a dumb idea...), and opened the door.

And there were three shelves on each side of the wall, lined with bananas after bananas after bananas...

The room looked yellow, although the wall was white.

You know how scary that is? I found it quite frightening. After daring myself to go into the banana room and grabbing a few bananas, I went upstairs to hand them over to Mummy Jolie, who peeled them, broken them in 1/2 inch pieces, and then proceeded to mush them.

What this means in psychoanalysis, I don't even want to know. I'd leave the analysis up to you.

I left the dorm at 11:00AM to go to work, hoping to get to Richmond at 12:30 PM, grab something to eat, then go off to teach. Usually it takes an hour to get from London Bridge to Richmond, but today the District Line only ran to West Kensington. "Fine," I thought, after seeing the notice at Westminster, "I'll just get off at Earl's Court, switch to Piccadilly, get to Hammersmith, and catch the replacement bus from there." Because IT CLEARLY SAID that the bus ran from Hammersmith via Gunnersbury and Kew Gardens to Richmond.

The first misery occurred while I was ON the train. There was this Chinese lady who seemed to be intent on trying to get to Richmond. However, all she did was point at the Richmond Station on the mini tube map, point at West Kensington, and say, "West Kensington". Don't know about you, dear reader, but to me that conveys not much. I had no idea if she was asking if she needed to get off at West Ken, could switch at West Ken, or what. I slowly explained to her how to get to Richmond - quite slowly - twice, but after that she smiled at me, nodded, and said, "West Kensington?" all the while pointing at the location on the map. Was she listening? No. Of course not. Because it's the thing to do after asking a complete stranger a question. Gah!

I got off at Earl's Court - the lady certainly didn't - and switched to Piccadilly. Got to Hammersmith. Got off the tube. And then was promptly notified that apparently every SINGLE poster indicating engineering works was different in all of London, because actually, no, there was no replacement bus. And yes, it did say so on the stupid poster by the assistance window, but it also said that it only ran from 9:00 PM and beyond on Sunday evening. And yes, they did put up a huge sign saying "REPLACEMENT BUS C TO RICHMOND" with a HUGE arrow under the sign. The replacement bus just simply wasn't running. Why for? I have no idea.

Now, here, two questions pop into my mind. Number one, why run it from 9:00PM, when there's hardly anyone using it? That's just inefficient, and it wastes petrol. Number two, why put up a sign that is no longer valid? This just baffles me.

So I caught the 391 bus from Hammersmith to Richmond. Now, usually it takes about 20 minutes by the Underground to get from Hammersmith to Richmond. On the bus, 40. This time, it took a full hour and a half, which means that I got to the Richmond station approximately at 1:00PM. When my class was about to begin. So that made me 10 minutes late.

During the bus ride, several things happened. First, they tried to squish approximately 40 people on a single bus, which just isn't plausible on Sunday afternoons. Second, this brat decided that it'd be awesome fun to touch my back and my hair while I was standing, earning a severe death glare from me. She then promptly began to cry. The mother became hysterical. I pretended that I couldn't hear her due to my earphones, and ignored her. Much screaming and hysteria ensued.

Third, another brat decided that he absolutely had to stand in the coolest way possible, never mind that no one was paying attention, and took up the space that could have accommodated three. He then proceeded to stand without holding onto the rails or anything, and when the bus came to a screeching halt he promptly crashed into me without further ado. For heaven and hell's sake HOLD ONTO SOMETHING unless you have a balance of a tightrope walker. But oh no. This kid could hardly stand straight every time the bus braked.

Fourth, this guy (and this is where the title comes in) decided to step on my foot. Really hard. For some reason. And then he decided to KEEP HIS FOOT ON MY FOOT the entire time. With full weight on it. Needless to say, I was beyond vexation. I asked him to please remove his foot from my foot. He ignored me, because he was too busy talking to his girlfriend who looked about 17. I kicked him with my left heel of my boot. It left a smudge on his grey slacks.

Fifth, another guy who was with his girlfriend kept staring at me the entire bus ride. That was very disconcerting and unnerving. Doesn't the guy know that it's rude to stare?

Sixth, and lastly, it took my 4th grade pupil AN HOUR to understand the concept of "base times width equals area of a parallelogram" today. I had to cut tiny bits of paper and demonstrate. I was NOT that slow when I was in 4th grade.

So after that, I am quite ready to give up on mankind, curl up in my bed only to be never seen again. I now understand the enchanting attraction of living as a hermit. I might even be one very soon...

ってお前馬鹿か！

そうっス、とうとう見つけたんス、高橋秀樹の桃太郎侍。

って言っても最初の三エピソードだけだけどね～。

って言っても探し回っていたわけじゃありません。たまたま見つけたんス。

やっぱ統計で疲れた時は桃太郎侍に限る！ってか？（さみしー）

でもやっぱ不思議なことがあるのは認めざる得ない。

大体あの数え歌はなんじゃい。数えてないじゃないか！

九九じゃあるまいし、　１に対して２０人斬るのはずるいぞ。

おまけにあんな血糊がべっとりついた絹の着物なんてどこで洗ってんだ？まさか名前にちなんで桃太郎のおばあさんみたいに川でざぶざぶ洗ってんじゃないだろうな。

おまけにあんな般若の面かぶってあんな派手な着物を着たやつが夜中に走っていたら絶対妖しい！つか妖しすぎ！

思い切り「ヤバイやつ」じゃん。

と言って朝の４時にけたたましく笑っている声が海を越えて聞こえてきたらそれは多分アタシっス。（笑）

とある人から質問のメールが来たのでそれに答える意味もあってこのエントリーを書いているのだが考えてみるとよくわけがわからないことばかりである。

…

まあ、それはいいとして…

Ｑ１．ロンドン大学って何校あるの？
Ａ１：僕ちゃんもさっぱり知りません。有名な学校は約三校しかないので。

Ｑ２．どうやってはいったの？
Ａ２：適当に入りました。はい、すんません。

Ｑ３．どの学校？
Ａ３：王校だす。正式名称は自分で調べちくり。

Ｑ４．何学部？
Ａ４：恥ずかしながら医学部です、はい。

Ｑ５．英語力はどれくらい？
Ａ５：そこら辺の現地人顔負けだと高校時代言われましたがこれは訓練の賜物です。討論部よ、私の土曜日、返しておくれ！

Ｑ６．費用は？
Ａ６：さっぱり見当つきません。いささか適当です。

Ｑ７．友達とか彼女いる？
Ａ７：レズじゃないので彼女はいません。友達は二人っす。

Ｑ８．やっとけばよかったと思うことは？
Ａ８：一日３６時間にする方法学んどきゃよかった。

他にも質問があったらメールくでー。（統計学に戻っていく）

If you know me well enough, I'm quite interested in DID's. In fact, I plan to go into neuropsychiatry ( a mix between neurology and psychiatry). Well, at least that's one of the options.

Anyway.

NEWS FLASH NEWS FLASH! BILLY MILLIGAN'S FILM IS FINALLY BEING PRODUCED! (insert incoherent screams of utter joy).

Ever since I read the book I wanted to see a film about it... and Milligan's selecting the actor to play himself, apparently.

I'm personally voting for Marko Malic or Christian Bale, but considering that Christian Bale already played a madman from American Psycho (awesome movie by the way), I'm not sure if he's willing to do this one. Marko Malic would be good as well; he has that vulnerable look. Milligan himself seems to be keen on Christian Slater (ew) or Johnny Depp (no, he's too sexy and he does NOT look vulnerable).

PLEASE PICK CHRISTIAN BALE OR MARKO MALIC! For my sake! (laughter)

Actually, I just realized... Christian Bale does sort of look like Billy Milligan... it's God's WILL!

友達と話していたらこんな話が出た。

私：「結婚？する気無い。」
Ｊ：　「なんで？」
私：「性格見てると出来そうにないし。探す気無いし。忙しいし。彼氏とかウザそう。」
Ｊ：　「寂しくないの？」
私：「全然。仕事と結婚してそれでいいんじゃないかな、私は。」
Ｊ：　「そうなの？私が頑張っているのは結構結婚のためもあるけど。」
私：「首席は一人でなればいいから。つーか首席が他にいたら本当に腹が立つ！」

勿論最後のは私の密かな考えであるが多分これは本当だと思う。

全然関係ないことであるが脊椎動物学の教授がなぜヒトデの話ばかりするのか私にはわからないのだがとりあえずレポートを書かなければいけないので調べていてわかったこと：

ヒトデって気持ちワリー！

悪すぎ！

肉食だし！千切ってもそこからもうひとつのヒトデになるし！なんかはっつくし！いやに獰猛だし！

おまけにあのハリセンボンみたいなヒトデとかやめてほしい！

しかしなぜあの教授が気持ち悪い動物ばっかり嬉々として話すのかわけがわからない。今までに講義されたこと：ミミズ、ヒトデ、ホヤ、蛙、トカゲ、なまず、ドジョウ、などと私が絶対知りたくもないし、知らなくていいし、見たくない、聞きたくないものばかりである。あの教授は私のことが嫌いなのか？！？！それともゲテモノ好き？

とりあえずヒトデのレポートを仕上げなければいけないのでちょっと失礼。

ママが焼いたクリスマスケーキでごわす。ちなみに私は食べただけ。


あと「花より男子」が評判になっていたので見てみた。そして一言：

「ありえねーっつーの！」

これぞ少女漫画の王道。何もない子がすべてある男子に見初められてちゃんちゃん。

でも世の中そんな上手くいかないんだよね～。

私：ねえ、ママ、仮に天変地異が起きたとして私が仮面ノリダーの見すぎで試験落としたらどうする？
母：ええ？仮面ノリダーの水着を着て試験落とすの？

．．．？

とんでもない親子である。

Happy belated New Years! Hopefully I'll be a little more productive than 2007... but since that's my new year's resolution, it's highly unlikely that I'd keep that promise. Eh.

My parents trashed my idea of volunteering in Africa. Apparently they still believe that Africa is a dark, wild continent filled with lions and other zoological animals.

Well, no. That's not the case. But they do think that the entire continent consists of Sudan. So, they trashed it.

They also prohibited me from joining Médecins Sans Frontières. Their reasoning? "You're going to get killed".

Okay...

Whatever.

I also hunted down Kevin Kalisz to... STALK HIM! No, I'm just kidding. The fact is, throughout the three years in which I shared my high school life with that insane genius, I talked to him the grand total of... three times. That's averaging once per year. Sad, isn't it?

Then all of a sudden I get propelled into medical school and all of a sudden I'm left behind thinking "Crap, I don't know anyone around my age who's in med school!" Except, surprise surprise, Kevin. That genius, in my opinion, should have went to CalTech to major in engineering, but for some reason he gave up is high school dream to become a doctor (cue in about thirty bazillion question marks, on your mark, get set, go!).

So, Facebook it is.

I'm going back tomorrow. Then it's exam time. And then I have to finish the papers, since I left my Physics paper on my disc on my desk in my room and I basically screwed everything up (CRAP).

Ew.

Location: At my desk
Music: Deep by Nine Inch Nails
Mood: Agitated

So, I just had a fight with one of my closest friends. Fuck.

The beginning was this. I needed to know where the tournament was; I basically have the fast food chains of most schools in the area inputted into my head, and I needed to know where I'd be eating on Saturday. And here came the reply:

"Dunno. lol."

Something snapped in me.

If you know who I am, then you know exactly who I had a fight with.

Yup. My debate partner.

I guess I always felt guilty to Ian. Everytime we didn't do well, I always blamed myself. I'm weighing him down, I thought. It's my fault we didn't do so well. I should have done better. It's me.

The year came and went. I went off to university; and away from the midst of things, I began to learn something.

Maybe... just maybe... it wasn't my fault?

Mr. Clark never tries, and I can understand why. In a way he's a complex creature, but in so many ways he's excessively immature. Because he cannot handle defeat, he refuses to try; that way he always has the excuse "I didn't try hard, so I didn't do so well. If I try hard, I can do this."

I'd know. I used to do that. And the awful thing is... the longer you say it, the longer that "not-trying failure me" gets stuck, and when you do try you fail anyway. And then what are you going to do?

He's brilliant, I'll give that to anyone. But he's wasting talent that I have craved, the talent that no matter how hard I tried, I could not achieve. It's almost like you're starving, and you're seeing through a window a guy who has a basket full of food and is purposefully throwing it away.

And THAT... just pissed me OFF.

Something snapped in me, and every agonizing jealousy I felt, that insane, gripping obsession, burst from the deepest hole I kept it shut in, and poured over me like some kind of acidic rain. Out of my mind tumbled out the harshest words I ever knew, the most painful phrases one can say to anyone.

Despite my constant whining and moaning about my classes, I am actually at where I want to be. My life is half-set. I will qualify as a physician, become one of the respected human beings who will know power, respect, and wealth.

But it didn't come easy. I begged, cried, cheated, stole, worked for it.

Actually, everything I have I've begged, cried, cheated, stole, and worked for.

He's just drifting through. And despite the fact that he has done well so far, there is always a big hole somewhere dug deeply into the earth. And while someone like I can climb up and hobble on because I've fallen over so many times that I'm just used to it, people like him aren't. They fall, because everyone does, and then they can't climb up.

But gah! I screwed up. And currently I'm so overwhelmed with schoolwork that I don't even know where to begin the patching.

Actually, right now, I really don't feel like it either. Hopefully he'll become hurt enough to actually start working...

Location: On my bed
Music: She Moves by Karaja
Mood: KNACKERED

As I look back at this semester, I have to say ONE thing... it went by with a WHOOSH. It just went by. And as we learned knew bitterness, loneliness, joy and victory, we grew up just a little bit.

Each day passed with me learning something new about myself; my weaknesses, my strength, just me. I cried. I laughed.

And here I am...

After the final and rather traumatizing session with none other than Dr. David Payne Esq (no, he's not an esquire, I just tagged that on), I am FINALLY FINISHED with Mammalian Biology, since I'm going home next Friday and I'll be at Fenwick around this time (YEAH!). Let's see. What was so traumatizing today?

Oh, I remember now. The fact that people use (or used) yogurt as contraceptive.

Now I can't eat yogurt.

"Now, Dr. Fashionista, how on earth do you use yogurt as a contraceptive?" You might ask. Alas, dear readers, it's not taken orally.

That's right. You just read that correctly. It's taken... down there.

EWWWWWW!

Not only that, I finally learned why some types of cats yowl at the final moment of sexual intercourse. No, it's not a yowl of pleasure, or protest against the act's finish. Oh no. It's something much... much... worse.... (and if you don't want to read it, I suggest you stop NOW before you sue me).

Apparently, some cats' erectile male reproductive organ (and yes, I could have said that in one word) HAS BARBS AT THE TIP.

OUCH!

And... well, that's why the female cat yowls. It's nothing but a screaming agony of pain (and any woman would be screaming too, if that happened to them).

So that was the extent of my education in mammalian biology. I think I just wasted 10 weeks worth of lecture time...

うー、美童が腹が立つ。

いや、キャラ自体は好きなのである。あんなアホなキャラはいないのでずいぶん笑わせてもらっている。

問題はドラマのほうである。

原作の美童はこれである。ブロンドの長髪で典型的な北欧人の美形である。だから私はこんなイメージを持っていたのである。（これだったら女もついてくるわな）
それなのに...ドラマと来たら...






これは無いでしょ、これは。

違う...全然違う！

美童はその美貌だけがとりえなのにそれをなくしたら存在価値ゼロである。

いくら原作ファンのためにカラコン入れたって顔が違うからダメだよ、あんた。

ちなみにどうやらパスできそうなのは悠理だけである。たとえば...

主人公の魅録は　これである。あごがこけていて目が釣りあがっているグラサンが似合いそうな不良少年である。それが...


似合わない！全然似合わない！

馬鹿にするのもいい加減にしてほしい。

野梨子といえば市松人形のような顔のはずである。それなのに...

かわいくない！華奢じゃない！野梨子を返せ！



清四郎君はこれである。

可憐は化粧のしすぎである。大体可憐があんなきゃバスケみたいな顔な訳が無いだろう！

おーいー。

ちなみに医龍のほうはかなり顔が忠実なので満足である。せめてあそこぐらいまでの質にしてほしかったものである。

I just realised that I had a new batch of comments waiting. Since I am a student with no life who sleeps most of the time, it is very interesting that people are actually wasting their time to comment on my blog (apart from those who are just amused with my rantings and my misery), especially because their attempt to conceal their attempts are kind of failing miserably. This made me contemplate on several human traits in a House-esque style, thanks to the newest episode of House playing in the background at the moment.

First of all: this makes no sense to me, and I'm hoping someone can explain it to me. If you don't like someone, why bother checking their Facebook page? Or reading their blog? Or in fact, do anything remotely related to them? This makes no sense to me whatsoever. It's sort of like... taking pleasure in eating nasty food. Or enjoying a smell of vomit. (well, dunno, there's probably people who like doing that.) I mean, I can understand "I'm going to take out my annoyance in a certain incident relating to a tutorial group today", but... doing that won't change your situation. And... to be honest, that's a very American thing to do (said via my experience). And that is currently not said as a compliment.

...

Second of all... crap, I forgot what I was going to say. Err... (tries to remember) Oh yeah. Why does Ayumi Hamasaki sing like that? It's very annoying.

Third... why does the heating turn off at precisely 11 o'clock?

Fourth... why do people never read carefully enough? Didn't they ever do those exercises where they say "read this through first", then list bunch of stuff to do, and then at the end says "now just write your name on the paper, don't do anything else"?

Fifth... WHY DID HOUSE FIRE COLE? House never said anything about playing the game with authorities. He's just as cutthroating as Amber.

...

On a complete tangent, quoth Wilson, "You know, in some cultures, hiring people to steal other people's underpants is considered wooing. You should move there. Cuz over here, it's just... you know... creepy."

Ahahaha.

I think I just got dumped (or take the limit of it, to be precise).

The worse thing is, I'm rather preoccupied at the moment trying to find the precise Dior palette that I saw in a magazine a week ago. I'm not even bothered about the current "catastrophe" right now, because I really want that Dior palette! I'm craving it. I'm dying for it.

Considering that Dior has been releasing a brand new palette every year, I highly doubt I'll find it ever again, unless I see the magazine. Which depresses me.

Sephora doesn't have it (GASP! I thought Sephora had everything!). I'm pretty sure it was from Dior, but it might have been YSL - they sometimes release similar palettes, making my life pretty confusing.

I also want to tape my Physics lecturer while he's talking, play it really fast and watch it, first without sound and second with sound, which will make him sound like a hyperactive chipmunk. That'd be worth few laughs.

Argh! I can't find the palette. And now I'm really sleepy.

Ta ta.

なぜか突然寿司が食べたくなった。

もちろんロンドンだからすし屋がそこら辺にある訳ではないので今の所アウトである。

そういえばもう日本に十年以上帰っていないのである。厳密に言うと１３年である。東京もだいぶ変わったことだろう。

全然関係ないことだが寮生活はやっぱり嫌いである。いくら洗剤を皆で使うからと言ったって私の戸棚から勝手に出して使うのは止めて欲しい。聞かないで使ったなら戻しておくべきである。

まあ、キッチンに入ることはもともとあまりないのでそう問題ではないが...

あと夜中にキッチンで騒ぐのも止めて欲しい。こっちは疲れているんだ!

I just thought that I should post this result...

So... I spent the afternoon today chasing amoebae around under a microscope, or, more merrily named, "A Microscopic Tag Game". Needless to say, I am now sporting a killer headache, irritability, loneliness, acute Tourette's, and... I'm just plain miserable, okay! I also had to walk back from New Hunts in the rain. That didn't help my mood.

So today was amoebae practical, meaning that we got amoeba specimen and got to look at it under the microscope. Histology is bad by itself because apparently Payne sees crap that I certainly don't, leading to the conclusion that he's probably tripping on LSD, but it's bad when your specimen moves around, grows pseudopods, and wiggles. Then it just sucks tenfold, especially when your microscope isn't too good and you see black dots rolling around. Ew.

First, we did the buccal scrapes. Remember when you had to take the sample of your cheek cells and look it under a microscope? Yeah, we did that. And needless to say, considering that it was after lunch, we literally saw crap that we ate for lunch. It was gross.

Then it was amoeba. And the amoebic food was also swimming around as well in the water. Add that to Billy's water conspiracy and I'm now mortally afraid to drink water, but I need to, because I'm still trying to lose weight and water's a good way to do that. (Yeah, somebody remind me not to ask him about conspiracies...). Anyway, I definitely don't like amoebae, especially when they're alive and they wiggle around and move. I also do not like playing microscopic tag, because basically you're going to get a level seven migraine and very tired eyes.
Oh, and I also found my 29-year old, Abercrombie-wearing, blue-brace sporting wacko lecturer on Facebook. I am permanently scarred. TEACHERS are not supposed to be ON FACEBOOK! That is just morally wrong. But then, considering that it's Adam most likely he's still in a mental state of a third year in university, not a responsible Ph.D.

I also want to tape him and watch his lecture, on 1.5 speed, without sounds. That ought to cheer me up...

Thank you very much to Nelli and Dan for reading my blog! (To my friends... I EXPECT YOU TO READ THIS. Just kidding. But I read you guys' stuff too, so we're even.)

Anyway, I digress. Back to the topic...

About the Tube.

Actually, I just hate the Tube.

I also hate Green Park station on Piccadilly line, but I'll get to the later.

Anyway! So I was trying to get to work today in Richmond, and for that I usually get onto Jubilee at London Bridge, change at Westminster to District line to Richmond. However, when I got off at Westminster to go up the escalator to get to Platform 4 for District Line...

"Due to engineering work District Line will not go to Acton Town or Richmond today. Please use Piccadilly to get to Turnham Green. A replacement bus service is running from Turnham Green to Richmond."

Erm.

See, if District Line was running (which rarely occurs these days), I'd have gotten there at 1:50, walked from Richmond station to the destination, got there at two on the dot. But alas, the London Underground System, despite being around for... oh, I don't know, 100 years, they STILL DON'T WORK PROPERLY. You know, you'd think they'd give up after trying for 100 years to get the damn thing right, but oh no! They're still trying, causing much people MUCH misery.

Anyway, I got on the District Line, got off at South Ken (or South Kensington for those of you who aren't in London and don't know the lingo), switched to Piccadilly, got to Turnham Green, nearly got my head chopped off when I tried to get on the bus, but got there - 30 minutes late. It was not my fault, though, so my employer let it go.

At work I actually had a coherent text message from The Elusive (aka the current guy I'm after), and my friend. I excused myself and borrowed the toilet while the kid was solving problems, and replied to the text via phone call. I felt like I was in high school again.

The problem was... on the way back.

FIRST of all, it was damn cold, and Turnham Green station happens to be OUTSIDE. And the damn train was late, so I got to freeze my butt off in the cold while I waited outside for the damn Piccadilly line. Then I got on - getting nearly squashed by this HUGE woman in due process - but the problem didn't start till after Gloucester Road. I was thinking "Shall I get off at South Ken and switch to District Line then switch to Jubilee, or get off at Green Park, walk for five minutes Underground to change the line to Jubilee?" when the train screeched to a halt.

In a tunnel.

The Piccadilly line happens to be old. It's 101 years old, to be precise. So, the tunnels are quite small. Actually, I was standing in front of the door so I could see outside, and... the TUNNEL WALL WAS ABOUT SIX INCHES AWAY. I felt quite claustrophobic.

The train started moving. Then it screeched to a halt again, causing everybody to crash into each other. Much cursing ensued. Then it started moving again. Then it screeched to a halt again.

...

Then the announcement came on, saying that due to technical problems the train would be moving at a really slow pace.

It did. Then it stopped.

See, when it stops, it's kind of different from moving at a slow pace. Elementary calculus, everybody! Just because the limit is zero doesn't mean it's ZERO!

Ahem. Anyway, Then it screeched to a halt again. And then it sat there, making odd noises, like it was about to fall apart (mind you, it's the new Tube, not the old rusty one that was in service till about 10 years ago).

And sat there.

And sat there.

And sat there.

Honestly, I probably could have walked to South Ken and back in the time that the stupid train sat there. IT SAT IN THE TUNNEL FOR THIRTY MINUTES. I thought about killing myself, listened to Nine Inch Nails out of sheer frustration. People started to panic. I got angry.

The trouble didn't end there. OH NO. It got even worse.

I decided to get off at Green Park. I switched to Jubilee alright, after walking a faintingly long walk between Piccadilly platform and Jubilee platform. I got to the Jubilee platform after walking for about five minutes (no joke).

AND IT SAID on the stupid time display that the Jubilee Line to Willesden Green was coming in a minute.

"Cool," I thought, and listened to Placebo's "Bitter End".

I finished the track. And listened to "Every You and Every Me". And "English Summer Rain".

So basically, one minute turned into approximately ten. And it still said on the damn display throughout the entire time, "WILLESDEN GREEN 1 MINUTE".

So, I hate the Tube. I also hate District Line and Piccadilly Line, District because it has so many termini (I'm not joking, it has Edgeware Road, Upminster, Ealing Broadway, Richmond, Wimbledon, Kensington... they SHOULD make another line), Piccadilly because there's always bunch of tourists there with bunch of luggage who always run over my feet with their 13 ton suitcases. I happen to like Jubilee Line, because it's usually working AND the stations look cool.

But Tube sucks. Hands down.