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Sep. 12th, 2005 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolWe won the cricket!
...
There is one Aussie on my flist, so I feel entitled to dance. *does so*
Plus, it was highly amusing to watch (well, listen) to the commentator going "Oh. Okay. They've stopped playing. Wait a second. We just won..."
I have watched all the Ashes from the second test onwards, and I can say the following without a shadow of a doubt:
1. Cricket is the slowest game known to man. They stop for a tea break. The commentator can and will happily discuss the cake they're eating without missing a single part of play. "And Vaughn is coming up to bat... and may I say, this is a delicious lemon cake, I've had two slices now... oh, and they're getting ready to bowl..."
2. And yet, it's vicious. How fast do those balls go? *winces*
3. The British weather really, really hates the British people.
4. Australians are all big and blonde, except for that one guy, who wasn't.
5. I don't understand most of the words used.
6. Well, it makes up for the football.
That is all. I feel slightly proud and patriotic. We just won a rather silly ongoing feud match from the Australians and now we have a cup with some burnt stuff in it. Rule Brittania indeed.
Oh, god, twelve hours to do the ficathon story. *fires up Joan* This is a bad thing, as I am absolutely exhausted. This is probably insane, given that I got out of bed today at 11.15, posted on LJ, had a teeny tiny wibble, and then blitzed my room all day, the results on which is several black bags of Stuff That Can Go. So yes, I've done very little all day, really.
My Mum appears to have the wrong idea about all of this and seems to assume that I will be taking everything I own and leaving nothing, which is why I spent this afternoon having a quiet chat with my father, explaining that no, really, everything I left was not to be thrown out, it's there for a reason, I won't have the space for it all at uni. Also, I have no desire to take myentire collection of everything he's ever recorded Robbie Williams stuff but there is no way in this or any other world that it's being taken to charity. GOD NO.
The thing is, what does on take to university? Seriously? I mean, I'd know what to do if I was moving out properly, but I'm not. I'm doing a weird half-job of it, so... what do I take? University people, do you want to help me out here? I have no older siblings who went to university. My parents and grandparents did. I don't really know my uncle who went to university. So... eeep? Any advice? I have a rug - I'm very proud of it - and a Dalek poster, because apparently some personal effects help. Do I take books and DVDs and CDs? How many personal effects? Is it worth it? CD player? The TV is coming with because, y'know, Doctor Who and I'm in a single room. Obviously Joan is coming too, so not bothering with the DVD player. What's essential? What do you wish you'd taken to university, wish you hadn't taken, found indispensible?
I have a corkscrew, though. I know that'll get used.
This journal just gets more and more train of thought-y, doesn't it? I apologise, so you all know. My head is prety jumbled up at the best of times, and this is a very strange time in my life. So...
Right. Ficathon time. *cracks knuckles and gets the kettle ready*
~Hathy_Col~
...
There is one Aussie on my flist, so I feel entitled to dance. *does so*
Plus, it was highly amusing to watch (well, listen) to the commentator going "Oh. Okay. They've stopped playing. Wait a second. We just won..."
I have watched all the Ashes from the second test onwards, and I can say the following without a shadow of a doubt:
1. Cricket is the slowest game known to man. They stop for a tea break. The commentator can and will happily discuss the cake they're eating without missing a single part of play. "And Vaughn is coming up to bat... and may I say, this is a delicious lemon cake, I've had two slices now... oh, and they're getting ready to bowl..."
2. And yet, it's vicious. How fast do those balls go? *winces*
3. The British weather really, really hates the British people.
4. Australians are all big and blonde, except for that one guy, who wasn't.
5. I don't understand most of the words used.
6. Well, it makes up for the football.
That is all. I feel slightly proud and patriotic. We just won a rather silly ongoing feud match from the Australians and now we have a cup with some burnt stuff in it. Rule Brittania indeed.
Oh, god, twelve hours to do the ficathon story. *fires up Joan* This is a bad thing, as I am absolutely exhausted. This is probably insane, given that I got out of bed today at 11.15, posted on LJ, had a teeny tiny wibble, and then blitzed my room all day, the results on which is several black bags of Stuff That Can Go. So yes, I've done very little all day, really.
My Mum appears to have the wrong idea about all of this and seems to assume that I will be taking everything I own and leaving nothing, which is why I spent this afternoon having a quiet chat with my father, explaining that no, really, everything I left was not to be thrown out, it's there for a reason, I won't have the space for it all at uni. Also, I have no desire to take my
The thing is, what does on take to university? Seriously? I mean, I'd know what to do if I was moving out properly, but I'm not. I'm doing a weird half-job of it, so... what do I take? University people, do you want to help me out here? I have no older siblings who went to university. My parents and grandparents did. I don't really know my uncle who went to university. So... eeep? Any advice? I have a rug - I'm very proud of it - and a Dalek poster, because apparently some personal effects help. Do I take books and DVDs and CDs? How many personal effects? Is it worth it? CD player? The TV is coming with because, y'know, Doctor Who and I'm in a single room. Obviously Joan is coming too, so not bothering with the DVD player. What's essential? What do you wish you'd taken to university, wish you hadn't taken, found indispensible?
I have a corkscrew, though. I know that'll get used.
This journal just gets more and more train of thought-y, doesn't it? I apologise, so you all know. My head is prety jumbled up at the best of times, and this is a very strange time in my life. So...
Right. Ficathon time. *cracks knuckles and gets the kettle ready*
~Hathy_Col~
