your fate is sealed in plastic

title of this post brought to you by the writing on the wall next to me in the library. i thought this was the best given the other options like, "i'm the rubber man!", "who has the largest penis here?", and "u r all fuckin losers". low blow librbray wall, low blow.

yes, this post comin' at you from the UEA library. i'm trying to write my final paper for the elizabeth I class i took this semester. it's titled "Negative Images of Elizabeth I in Foreign and Domestic Press" and aren't you impressed? the title is the best part, believe me. i'm dragging my feet through this paper because all motivation has gone out the window becasue tomorrow i'm leaving for egypt! and so paper writing is the farthest thing from my mind. i can't believe how quickly this year has gone. don't you find that the yeasr go by faster as you get older? when i'm 60 i'll just blink and it'll be a year gone by.

soon i'll take a well earned lunch break from essay writing. i think i'll get a meal deal from the shop. chicken salad sandwich, salt and vinegar chips and a coke zero for under £3. mmmmmmmm. and so if you don't hear from me in a while, it's becasue i'm in egypt and/or india having an awesome awesome time. adios!

Iamsterdam

got back from amsterdam late last night. it was a fantastic trip that ended too soon. myself and about 100 other students embarked thursday night by coach to the white cliffs of dover to board the ferry to calais. arriving early friday morning in france we got on the coach again to continue to amsterdam.

friday in amsterdam was a fantastic blur of wandering around the city and getting lost and finding cafes. in true amsterdam style, my friends and i were high most of the day. that night we went to the van gough museum, housing the largest collection of van gough in the world. it was spectacular. i saw 'starry night' as well as so many other famous paintings. i love van gough. you know his whole life he only ever sold one painting and that was to his brother. poor guy. but adversity is the mother of creativity.

saturday was even better. a few of us went on a bike tour of the city and countryside. it was a fantastically sunny day and the counrty was so picturesque! all the daffodils were blooming and the birds were chirping and i thought mary poppins was going to pop out from behind a tree and start singing. we stopped at a windmill that rembrant used to sketch, and then on to a cheese and clog factory where i kid you not they make cheese and clogs. and as if that was not enough, we got to feed barn animals. after our glorious commune with nature we visited the anne frank house which was as depressing as i thouhgt it would be, but still interesting and touching. her original diary is there on display.

i want to live in amsterdam. the life of an amsterdamian seems like some sort of beautiful utopia where everyone rides bikes and the police are only there to help children if they fall down or to aid the elderly with crossing the street. there's no pollution and weed is cheap and legal, prostitutes have pensions, and you start every morning with a freshly baked danish. i'd live the life of a prince and have cinnamon ice cream every night.


but i'm back in england today where weed is neither cheap nor legal and it's rainy and i start every morning without breakfast. i'm only hitting this sour note because i woke up this morning with the worst sore throat in the world. i can barely talk and it hurts to swallow. i hope i don't have streap. i'm currently sipping tea with honey willing it to go away soon. i have 2 huge papers due next week, but after that- CAIRO! and after that- INDIA! and after that- IRELAND! what a lucky girl i am. i guess a sore throat isn't that bad.

oh UEA

in a recent episode of The Office, Dwight made a very good point:

Michael: why do you have a diary?
Dwight: i keep secrets from my computer.

you can't be too careful...

a few days ago was derby day here at UEA. this means that University of Essex came to UEA and played against us in a bunch of different sporting events. never one for playing sports or indeed even watching sports, live or otherwise, i did not think this day would be much to get excited about.

i was so wrong.

have you ever seen a rugby match? the scrumming and the fighting and the lifting of men into the air and the cheers and the fighting...it was like being a spectator in a bar fight, but much dirtier and for points. i can't say i had ever seen a real fight break out before, but it was awesome. one moment the ball is in the middle of a knot of guys all pushing each other, then the ball is somewhere else but the pushing continues. then someone is on the ground getting stepped on. in a flurry of legs and arms and fists a fight erupts. half the stands run down to the sidelines to shout at the opposing side and hopefully get the chance to throw a few punches as well. and i couldn't completely understand everything the crowd was shouting, but here's a few of the cheers i could decipher:

oh UEA (oh UEA)
is won-der-ful (is won-der-ful)
oh UEA is wonderful
it's full of tits, fanny and rugby
oh UEA is wonderful

and my favorite...

heard that Essex went to rome to see the pope
heard that Essex went to rome to see the pope
heard that Essex went to rome to see the pope
and this is what he said; fuck off!

as well at the occasional one-liner...

does your mother know you're here?

number 3 it's all your fault

your mom's a cunt and you can't play football



it's a sport of kings i tell ya.

all's fair...

in love and blogging.
capricious:
–adjective

1.	subject to, led by, or indicative of caprice or whim; erratic: He's such a capricious boss I never know how he'll react.

2.	Obsolete. fanciful or witty.

courtesy of dictionary.com, a website that should really have been sited in every paper i've written since high school.

so in the spirit of this new blog and it's fanciful title, a collection of works i think contain at least a little caprice:

Immigrant, by sandy lyne

His heart, a cloud;
his mind, a star;
his body, living dust.
What border
can hold back
cloud, star, and living dust?




a banksy in norwich that i go out of my way to see whenever i'm in town.



more caprice to come...