hot dirty water in a cup, with royalty

Had my Educational Psychologist’s Report on Thursday. Word puzzles, mind games, all quite fun and interesting if at times mildly frustrating (that was of course the point) with a lovely psychologist man named Tim. The upshot: (summary, image link) – tl;dr I R GENIUS, just fucked in terms of brain-hand coordination, and have a legitimate claim to extra time and a word processor in exams.

That went as well as could be expected, I reckon.

However, this report lasted somewhat longer than I was expecting, and when it finished I found I was going to be at least half an hour late to Stuart’s seminar. Debated with myself whether to go for the second half (unprepared, without laptop or folder, and also HALF AN HOUR LATE, resulting in mockery) or whether to just go home (so he would think I had bunked off, possibly to go and see the CIA man talking about the ethics of robotic warfare, resulting in being treated as a feckless delinquent.) After considerable thought the latter eventually made itself seem less attractive, so I walked over to Strathcona for the last twenty minutes of the seminar, joined Team Science and read a paragraph about Copernicus out in a loud, arch voice, and Learned. Then at the end I told Stuart I was agonising like nothing else about this essay and oh god it’s going to be awful. He said academic things which basically added up to “no stress; go easy, bro”. I like Stuart.

Despite this, I found myself working into the small hours of Thursday night on it. But that was okay, because it meant when Enzo (Rose’s apparent suitor [eta: no more, I am informed; no comment], a most dashing gentleman of Italian extraction.) arrived falling-down drunk at half past three in the morning outside my window with a guitar and tricorn hat and attempted to play Rose songs, instead of finding me sleepily furious he found me deeply amused and glad of the distraction. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), despite assaulting her room from both sides she wouldn’t wake up. Fortunately (definitely), I don’t think we interrupted anyone else’s slumber.

Submitted the essay, which I have to do both digitally ahead of time through their anti-plagiarism software and in dead tree format on the day itself. History office opened at ten; coach left at eleven. Hurr. At least the trains were running today. I locked up my bike at University Centre, grabbed some apples from the greengrocer to nom on the journey and slept most of the way to Bristol. Had lunch at Yoyo, which was pleasantly nostalgic and also unbelievably delicious and filling. They need to turn into a vast evil multinational quickly so I can have one here.

COUSINWEDDING. Owen and Joey chose to get married on Halloween, which sounded somewhat questionable until I heard that it was when they met, which made it Cool. It was at a hired hall at the Paintworks, an ex-paint-factory-turned-modern-artist/architect’s-private-zone-of-pretentiousness, with scores of jack-o-lantern decorations carved by Freddy and Owen. People variously came in costume or not; since I still haven’t sorted out a way to retrieve Blastwave from Tom, I just came in a black shirt and hid in the curtains a lot. Mike had skull makeup, a top hat and a skull on the end of a stick which tiny Hal played with happily, Joey’s awesome friend Paz and her moustachioed Man as one set of Ghostbusters and some people I didn’t know as another, Steph as Minnie Mouse, aunts in various degrees of witchiness, John as a gangster in an extremely slick hat and… many others, whose details escape me and would take forever.

There was a hog roast, which was delicious and had strips of crackling as long as my arm. There were many many cousins and cousin-spouses and toddling cousin-children and cousin-friends. I love my extended family. Really. They’re great people. Mike gave a rather wonderful best man speech; Owen tore up several times during his groom speech, to general dawwing and approval, and then Paz gave us a very American, very nice account of growing up with Joey, which included towards the end:

“…and Owen, if you let her down I will maim you and leave you naked in a field of zombies.”
Beat.
“The fast kind, not the slow kind.”

This made her instantly and irrevocably the coolest person in the room. And this was before she told me her brother (so… cousin’s wife’s best friend’s brother, this is a rather tenuous link) worked for Valve and I gave her my Steam name and got gifted those parts of the Valve Complete Pack that I did not already have this morning. Which wasn’t much but made me amazingly gleeful and happy.

Ros told me wonderful and heartening things about life. Freddie was envious of university fun times. I had through the night been envious of John’s hat. He gave it to me. It’s magnificent.

Make that: I really, really love my extended family.

On the Sunday and I walked in the woods with Mum and learned about history and life, and got haddock and chips from Luke at the fish bar and exchanged nods and good wishes. Now, of course, it is Reading Week brumside and I shall enjoy the break from the (terrible, ghastly, strenuous, agonising) lectures and sing and dance and eat and perhaps actually read some things, who knows.

Total expenditures for last week: £15.88 (!)

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2 thoughts on “hot dirty water in a cup, with royalty

  1. “Owen and Joey chose to get married on Halloween, which sounded somewhat questionable”

    Unless they’re hamgoths, that’s cool no matter which way you slice it.

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