Today I had my Data Analysis exam, which lasted six hours. I finished the actual work in morning session and spent the afternoon one sense-checking, spell-checking and layout-checking. Afterwards, I went to The Charles pub with my classmates, but mainly spoke to Alex, who made me feel rather disturbed during the conversation resulting from his discovery that the condom machine in the gents also sells tictacs. (Brilliant, though the thong-vending machines apparently located in Danish toilets are still more worrying.)

I headed home at eight and attempted to phone online friend Meaghan, who'd asked me to do so. On failing to get an answer, I called Soppygit, also as promised, then tried Meaghan again. Afterwards, I phoned Mum. By this point, it was 11pm and I was really suffering from Sims withdrawal symptoms, as I'd been battling them all day, but eventually I could indulge.


Tuesday 16 December 2004

Today, the hearing in my left ear, which had been sporadically poppy for days, decided to be poppy all day. I went online and found cleaning ears was a bad idea, but yawning and breathing through your ears (as it were - you hold your nostrils, keep your mouth shut, inhale and exhale) was a good plan, and it did indeed work.

I decided to play The Sims and not to talk to anyone all day. I made Sims of some of my fictional characters, and oddly their interests and the first jobs they stumbled across turned out to be exactly what they should have been. I still have yet to observe a gay kiss in the Sims, but I'll get there soon.

Not talking to anyone didn't go terribly to plan, though, as I had to go and get my Arch Enemy ticket from my college's reception. There was no porter there, but one of my lecturers was (for unknown reasons - he told me, but I couldn't hear), so I had to speak to him. On emerging, I remembered I had to get some work placement bumph from the Maths office (which turned out to be exactly what they'd e-mailed already me). There, I met one of my classmates. I headed back to my college, only to run into Alex. What are the odds? Then I had to phone Bryn. Gah!


Wednesay 17 December 2003

I spent the morning preparing to see Arch Enemy. I got map showing me how to get to the venue from the station off the Internet, found train times and took out cash. I was all ready, when I received a phonecall from the ticket company telling me it had been postponed. So desperate to go was I, that I feared it was just some fundamentalist Christian hoaxing us gig-goers and I spent ages online trying to find out if this was true. But indeed, it turned out that their vocalist, Angela, had lost her voice. GAH!

The only saving grave was that yesterday's earpopping techniques were no longer working. I tried sucking sweets, but it didn't work. I phoned the health centre, but they said I should call back tomorrow. I tried to get excited for New Model Army the following day, but, denied of my death metal fix, it just wasn't working. I tried to get into folkpunk mood gradually, by listening to Static X, followed by Star Industry, but no, no joy.

I told myself I deserved to play The Sims for the rest of the day, but ended up phoning Ibid and Marion, e-mailing Smill, Roe and Chris re: a geenic reunion, and discovering Toneh and Rue had deadjournals and reading the entire things.


Thursday 18 December 2003

The health centre told me to put olive oil in my ears twice a day, then go to the health centre on the other side of York on Saturday, as it's open then, while the campus one isn't. I went to the chemist's and couldn't find any, and looked all shifty, as if I was wanting a pregnancy test. Eventually, it transpired it was behind the counter, as was the necessary dropper. Why?

The venue of the New Model Army gig was weird. I got let in straight away - to a bar - but no one was allowed into the room until about an hour later. Very few people were there, to my surprise, as I'd expected NMA to inspire more devotional behaviour. I suppose everyone else knew the venue's protocol. Some bloke spoke to me, and when I finally went in, I saw a couple of Screaming Banshee Aircrew types.

I couldn't make out what the support band were singing, but I don't know if that was my hearing or them singing in French or both. They all wearing maroon, weren't attractive, and it seemed like they liked l'attitut punque roque but had never actually heard any. They had guitar solos and belonged to the Andrew WK school of melody writing, so I quite liked them, but it was funny.

Despite my recent bad experiences up at the front at gigs, I decided to stay there for the main attraction, as I decided it wasn't possible to mosh to NMA. Apparently you can - my back took a beating and my hair kept getting caught, something I can't remember ever happening at gigs before. But at the end of it, I wasn't sweating! Amazing! Sadly, I still didn't manage to escape with clean clothes, as a drunk bloke spilled beer on me as I left the venue.

New Model Army aren't very attractive either, but that's beside the point. I didn't know most of what they played - it was mostly newer stuff - but it was good. I wasn't really sure how to dance to it, though. Can you? They played "Stupid Questions", "No Rest" and "I Love The World" for the encore though, which was mint.

When I got back to York after seeing Motorhead, I got a taxi straight away. This time, I had to wait about twenty people, and there were about fifteen in the queue behind me. The woman in front of me chatted up the bloke in front of her, and they decided to go home together! And they were really old!