honour

Dec. 13th, 2006 08:28 pm
overocea: (Default)
So, so, so.

My thesis was returned recently; oh the excitement. Only it didn't include the final grade, just the markers' comments. All well and good, exceedingly helpful remarks ("The results are presented in a way that makes them reasonably comprehensible," and "The discussion largely does its job." WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?), but I wanna know what I got, dammit!

After emailing the honours course convenor in a politely outraged manner, I received this:
I'm afraid we are no longer allowed to give out thesis marks! But I can tell you that both your markers gave you a mark in the First class range, so you got a clear First for your thesis. Examiners who see a thesis as First class do seem reluctant to give high marks, though, so the marks are generally in the low 80's. With your coursework marks, this means that you got a *very* high IIA honours degree overall. Congratulations.
I am unreasonably disappointed. An overall Second Class A is good. I can't imagine I would have ever expected to get a First... but I got one for my thesis! Oh oh oh, it's unbelievable, and it makes me think I should have one overall. Particularly since she had to specify that it was very high; how close I was, by how little I missed out.

Ah. The absurd things that flatten me. Like cherry lollipops not tasting even remotely of cherries. Damn you, world.

In any case, I graduate on Friday.
overocea: (Default)
I really, really need to _____. I am horribly frustrated.
HORRIBLY. and miserable. I wish I could be ragingly furious instead. ooo.

well I just got off the phone with Dennis.
I talk to him at least twice, thrice per day. if, for some reason, I don't answer my phone(s), he rings and rings them both until I do, leaving 10-20 messages. and SMSs. and emails. and comments on my livejournal. and messages on my friends' phones asking if they know where I am. and messages on my mumm's phone asking if she's spoken to me recently. etc.
okay he's only done those last few once or twice.

see, i'm his best friend. the only one who understands etc. the only one to whom he's completely opened up and poured etc. the love of his etc.
I broke up with him three+ months ago. sat cross legged, straight faced, empty chested, closed mouthed while he cried his fluttering, splattering heart all over the hardwood floor about his life now having no etc. thinking it'll be over soon. all this pandering. all this gentle petting. all this him.

but, but, but.

I was due to go to Cairns tomorrow, as I do 2-4 times per year. he lives in Cairns, now. he had all kinds of marvellous, best-friendly adventures planned for us, i'm sure. because when I tentatively informed him i'd had to push my flight back to next Monday for various uni-involved reasons, we had a minor repeat of the fluttering, splattering heart incident over the phone. but, see, it wasn't just that i'd be a week late. it was that I was annoyed at him for transferring $120 into my bank account so I could change the flight, again, to four days earlier. it was that, for some apparently insane and selfish reason, I just refused to do it.

"why would I?" I say. "you're not even my partner. you're just a friend. why should I move my flight ahead four measly days for you? there's no reason to. it's unnecessarily absurd. etc."

surely that is a sound argument, i'm thinking. surely it is reasonable.

because, although surely it is enough, it is not all!
the thing is... I do have selfish reasons for not doing it. selfish reasons i'm not telling him about. because what he doesn't know won't hurt him. and because i've promised him I won't <quote>see</unquote> anybody until after my trip to Cairns.

Friday night a semi-friend (as friendly as they get, to me) is having a costume housewarming rave, rave, rave.
and the crush of my life (read: crush of my present) will be there.
I have diabolical plans to spirit him to some dark corner and make him my night-long prey. either that or I have plans to gaze and mutely blush, etc.

sigh sigh.
I am evil. just so everyone knows.

now. I have 1,500 words to write by tomorrow.
and $20 worth of junk food to consume while doing so.
excuse me.
overocea: (Default)
still waking up with permanence at 4am or earlier, despite th time AT WHICH I go to bed. but it's gorgeous, earliest morning, when even witches are dead to th world. i've coffee, crunchynut cornflakes, wrapped in a blanket under a heater with ren&stimpy, my house glowing from every eye. I feel lucky. I feel i've promise.

4hours later: I feel an idiot. I vaguely recalled one of my thesis group mentioning we were meeting at 9am rather than 11. so am at uni, on time, except that was LAST WEEK. we DID meet at 9. and this week we are meeting as usual at 11. sigh.

3hours later: what is wrong with me today? I feel so dissatisfied. I feel wrong. I feel lonely. I want desperately to bump into someone I know. I want to gorge. I want to drink. I want to smoke. I want to fuck. I want to run. I don't know what I want.. but it's something. and right now. I want it.

ugh! i'm so frustrated. dissatisfied. wrong.
I could leap out my skin.
I could scream out my lungs.
I feel like I need to be saved.

p.s. waking up in the early hours unable to go back to sleep is a SYMPTOM OF DEPRESSION.

4hours later: I must think of him more than he thinks of me.
perhaps.

I don't know! because, well.. he couldn't guess how often I think of him. so.. I can't.. guess...

on the surface, uh, from an alien point of view, it would seem he thinks of me. more. most of our contact is him-initiated.
but that's true of my contact with anyone!
it's just so often..

but I can't guess how often he thinks of me.
I hope it's heaps.

this isn't healthy.
I seem to have a habit for unhealthy relationships.

but this one!.. confuses me.
I have to stop thinking about it.

livejournal addendum: if you're one of the many! who could be reading this thinking it may be about you: i'll never te-ell.

I just realised how many! of you could have thought. wow. i'm in a lot of unhealthy relationships at the moment! yay! and I love you all. :D

lol I suck.

infury

Sep. 27th, 2005 07:50 pm
overocea: (andromeda)
I am decidedly anxious/raging. shuddering, stuttering, fluttering; having fits of explosive passion, shattering crockery, windows & other peoples' skeletons; roaring, howling, bleating, gnarling, blind with blood..
  to the soothing strains of harp & flute, ambient lighting, drifting incense and tulips/roses. arr.. rrrrrrrrrrrrr.

dissolve/absolve
impale, i'm pale
wrack me/rack me/skeen my spine, align me
IT'S ALL RIGHT I'M USED TO IT
overocea: (Default)
AHAHAHA. HAHAHAHAHAAAAA. UGH I need to jump up&down on someone right now.

so is there anyone on livejournal who doesn't have a self-diagnosed personality disorder?
me? i'm like, so histrionic, antisocial, AND schizoid.
I'VE ATTEMPTED SUICIDE 8 TIMES. I WIN.

I think you are all liars. LIARS. love ya.
'specially Americans. I think "mom" is so cute. I <3 your mom.
overocea: (follow my fishie)


I had two lectures in a row in the same theatre yesterday, so after the first one ended and everyone swarmed towards the two tiny doors at the front I sat and waited for the next one to begin. There is a ten-minute gap between classes. The girl behind me did the same. Ten minutes later a handful of people had drifted in one by one and were waiting. Five minutes into what was supposed to have been a sociology lecture the girl behind me tapped me on the shoulder and whispered "This is SY1001, isn't it?" I had tilted my head back to look at her upside down but still managed to nod. After another five minutes I took out my timetable to check, because lecturers are never late, but the lecture was there. The right theatre, the right time. I sat and stared at the timetable for another five minutes until I noticed that this particular lecture was only scheduled for week 19, when the rest were scheduled for weeks 8-21. I turned around and shouted (which, for me, involves talking above a mumble) "does anyone have a timetable?" No one did. So I told them there was no lecture and walked out, feeling REALLY STUPID, but that's okay because everyone else there was stupid too, and at least I thought to PRINT OUT A TIMETABLE.



The other week/month Lila was vomiting all over the place. As soon as she ate she'd puke a billion times, and instead of jumping all over me and attempting to rip my face off every time I went outside she'd just lie there for an hour & then docilely amble over & put her head on my foot. So I took her to the vet. The vet probed her in 50 different ways & said he couldn't feel any obstructions & had she had all her shots? Has she eaten anything strange? "She eats everything strange," I said, she eats EVERYTHING. I PICK TICKS OFF HER AND THROW THEM AWAY AND SHE FUCKING EATS THEM. And then I remembered that two days before, she'd picked up a huge chunk of plastic wrap while I was walking her and swallowed it whole. So he was all "well take her home & don't feed her & if she's still sick tomorrow we'll have to gut her which is heapsnexpensive." And then I forgot my PIN while paying by EFTPOS, but anyway she got better. The next day she ate a whole dead decomposing stinky WORMY BIRD, FEATHERS, FEET, BEAK & ALL.

Then, another day, I was on the esplanade and I thought I saw some strange girl walking her, which is totally weird because she's a freaky looking mongrel. So I finally realised it was some other dog who just looked like Lila, & I jumped up & ran over & said "what kinda dog is that?" and she smiled patronisingly and said "it's a husky cross rottweiler," like she got asked all the time, because I GET ASKED ALL THE TIME when walking Lila 'cause she looks like a husky & then like a doberman & then like an alsation. Anyway, I said "omfg! I have the same dog!" and she was like "oooo!" and I said "did you get him from Cairns Central?" and she said "No, we got him from the owners 'cause we knew them but they did take the rest to Cairns Central." and I was all "Wow! I have your dog's sister!" So we compared their personalities, and WHY DID I HAVE TO GET THE MANIAC FREAKAZOID ONE? Hers was all quiet and nice. But he looked more like a rottweiler than Lila does, which is uglier, 'cause her face is all pointy and nice.

Chloe is my other dog & she's a big fat border collie & is lovelie & perfect except she likes to attack little kids who pat her, & she once ripped open my neighbour's leg as he dived into the pool, which wasn't her fault 'cause she's a SHEEPDOG & it's INSTINCT for her to chase diving things.



THINGS I REMEMBER FROM BEING SEVEN:
- Getting the newly-painted-pink second-hand bike for my birthday and dad taking me to the football oval to learn to ride it.
- Having the kiddie train carriage behind me jacknife & land on my head & then being rushed to hospital while yelling "no I don't wanna go I wanna ride the train again!"
- Staying out in the playground with my friends after the end-of-lunch bell until our teacher came looking for us and lined us up the front of the classroom and told us to bend over so he could wack us on the butt with his big black-board ruler BUT HE ONLY PRETENDED TO WACK US.
- Mumm giving me my first Enid Blyton book which was "The Enchanted Wood" and since then I'VE READ EVERY SINGLE ONE.
- The evil babysitter who gave us dry toast and water as a snack and let her daughter beat us up and then yelled at us for complaining about it.
- My dad coming home drunk from a policeman's party at which he won a meat platter in a raffle and he left the meat platter out on the porch all night long and when mumm & my sister & I came home from visiting my nanna we found the meat platter there all rotten with flies.
- Going fishing on the ocean with my friend Michelle with the curly white hair & her big brother, & I caught a shark, & the brother said "it's only a baby, throw it back," and I said no! I caught it it's mine! and the rest of the day every time the boat rocked I thought it was the mother shark coming to attack us & save her baby.
- I used to stuff the sandwiches my mumm made me for lunch under my bed, & I came home one day & there was a huge grey rat lying dead at the front door, & dad said "I found that under your bed eating those mouldy sandwiches" & ever since then I've had a fear of rats under my bed so I would never put my feet down in case the rats bit them.

My parents got divorced when I was nine, and I was happy.

GRAMMAR MISTAKES THAT REALLY PISS ME OFF:
- When people say "might of" rather than "might have."
- When people use "whom" just to use it because hardly anyone knows how to use it and they want to seem like they know how to use it. HERE'S A TRICK SO YOU KNOW WHEN TO USE IT, IT'S EASY: Use "who" when it goes with "he," and "whom" when it goes with "him." For example: He is speaking and Who is speaking go together, and To whom am I speaking and To him am I speaking/I am speaking to him go together. GET IT? IT'S NOT THAT HARD IS IT?
- Semi-colons. You can't just eradicate them because you don't know how to use them, and you can't just use them in place of commas for the sake of using them.
- Sarah and I. "AND ME" IS NOT ALWAYS INCORRECT. You wouldn't say "That pie is for I" (well, [livejournal.com profile] ghostlight would), so don't say "That pie is for Sarah and I."
- The use of "his or her" over and over and OVER and over. While not a mistake, it's still FUCKING ANNOYING. You can use "their" as an asexual pronoun, despite it being plural, IT'S WIDELY ACCEPTED AND NOW CONSIDERED GRAMMATICALLY CORRECT. EVEN JANE AUSTIN DID IT. There are entire WEBSITES dedicated to it.
- whose and who's. whose is possessive, who's is the same as it's. IT'S A CONTRACTION. WHO'S IS NOT POSSESSIVE.

I'm hungry. Time to go get fish & chips.

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