My Week

This is another one of those really long posts. But like previous posts, it's littered with photos to make sure you don't doze off. Who says I don't think about my readers?

Thursday 22nd September

I finished the feature piece I was writing for The Saint. Unfortunately, I didn't get to interview enough people so had to include myself. Not ideal, but if I get children as a result, it won't be so bad I guess.

I advised for the philosophy of religion module, only to find that we have a presessional task. I'm surprised to admit that I was willing to get on it straight away, only to find that the reading wasn't available online or in the library. Well that's rubbish. I wanted to try and read the stuff now so that I could at least realise and foresee my failure of the module. In other news I spent £80 on books - for one module. Still, it's money well spent. In another life that wouldn't be enough to fund my drug habit.

I was cutting it fine getting to my dissertation session because advising was taking too long (the girl in front of me had been waiting for nearly two hours!). An hour and a half about dissertations. Yay. It was all very useful but it just made me panic. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm writing. I don't really think I know anything.

Back home for my friend's birthday. Good. I need a drink or two. Oh and cake. Yay, cake!

He didn't have an apron....


Friday 23rd September

Went to the doctors. Veins decided not to play nice, fancying a game of hide and seek instead. The result?

Went to go and view venues for our society's ball. The hotel was pretty standard. Dance floor and circular tables. Payment included a set three-meal course and stewards. We would have to hire bouncers security though. MUSA (Museum of the University of St Andrews) was our next stop. Lovely  space. I liked the idea of spending the evening amongst old gowns and university antiques. But, alas, they said they wouldn't be able to cater for a sit-down mean. How disappointing.

Went to The Bop. Gosh did I feel old. All these Justin Bieber lookalikes, as young as 17 with their fresh baby faces. I didn't know anyone there - and that's saying something for an event in the union at St Andrews.

I was disappointed that there wasn't enough cheesy music BUT, I did come home with a huge balloon. On another note, our house is slowly being invaded by slugs. We found this little bugger on the kitchen worktop.

"I'm quite worried about you standing in the middle of the road."

I am super hyper. Perhaps I should act my age more often.


Saturday 24th September

It's our college barbecue today. Spent most of it handling raw meat and chatting to freshers. I also adopted a son,who's strangely older than me. But that's all part of the quirk of academic families! You'd think at a barbecue that the theologians would give themselves a break with the deep discussions, but no. More often than not I seemed to walk into the middle of a conversation that was going something like, "Do cigarettes have feelings? Who's harming who more? Is the cigarette harming me because it's slowly killing me, or am I harming it by smoking it so ruthlessly?" We are an odd bunch.

"Teddy bear rolls workshop"

Someone asked me about my dissertation. It was bound to happen some time over the course of the day, but I was hoping the whole "Well semester's not started yet so I don't want to think about it" excuse would do. Wrong. Anyway, I couldn't answer them. An because I couldn't answer what my dissertation was on I panicked. If I think about it properly - I don't know what I'm doing. For most things in life I'm quite capable of coasting and blagging my way through - whether it's essays, an interview or some kind of social event. But this is important. Really important. And it's all down to me to work out what I'm going to write about. I'm screwed.

Leonard our JCR (Junior Common Room) seagull

I'm supposed to be meeting my supervisor this week to "discuss" it. I don't have anything to discuss. I haven't done the reading or the research I should have done before semester. Ground, please open up and swallow me.

After cleaning up the barbecue I met up with a friend. It's always nice to catch up. She came over for dinner and we watched David Attenborough talk about mudskippers. Those things are funny.

Out again this evening for some live music. Admiral Fallow were just brilliant. I'm not much of a music person but you can't go wrong with live music.

I was actually a bit disappointed to find that the support act were better than the main: Jose Gonzalez. The set didn't finish till about 1am which I thought was quite late considering it started at 10pm. I think I was just tired. I *may* have nodded off halfway through one of Jose's songs....


Sunday 25th September

Lectures start tomorrow *groan*

Slammed my alarm off only to realise I had texts and missed calls. They were angry ones. Something about how we wouldn't be having a stall at the Freshers' Fayre and for other reasons, were not going to go and publicise ourselves. Shame. It would have been a really good place to plug our society. What a missed opportunity. Also, a little birdie later told me that people were blaming me for the cock up. Yay to being blamed. Anyway, I was peeved. What a great start to the day!

Had a lazy brunch then wandered over to the Freshers' Fayre. It was absolutely packed. Home for a spot of Tea and then our opening service at St Leonard's Chapel. T'was lovely, and such a great turn out - the best in years apparently. Dr Ian Bradley's address mentioned the need to listen more to the silence. I smiled.

The social in the SCR (Senior Common Room) afterwards was good. I usually don't feel comfortable in these situations but conversation seemed to flow easily enough. Four years and it was the first time the principal of the college spoke to me. He seems like a nice guy. Good sense of humour, but he looked a bit worried when the topic of my dissertation came up ... And oh dear are the freshers funny. I made a few silly faces because these girls didn't know who Frank Bruno and Terry Wogan were. Terry Wogan!

God am I glad Freshers' Week is over.


Monday 26th September

I had my first philosophy of religion lecture today. It seems i didn't need to worry so much as we started off with Alston's argument that CMP is a doxastic practice that cannot be judged by external models, such as, arguing that what a religious person believes is false because it cannot produce philosophically compelling arguments to prove their beliefs to be true is not true. According to Alston, we can only judge a CMP doxastic practice within its own constraints. That is, not the individual experience, but the collective social experience/practice (CMP). Too heavy?

In the two-hour lecture our lecturer managed to drop in a reference to Bulletproof Monk. This is going to be a good module. I can sense it.

I went into the new library for the first time this semester. My first thoughts were, "Where the hell are the stairs?" The carpet's nice though and the area is a lot lighter and more open in general. I'm not sure about the cafe name Cafe 1413. I don't care if that's when the university was supposedly founded - it's really unoriginal. The same goes for if it was called Cafe 600 (which apparently was a contender for the title).

My day was going well up until i stepped into the library. I tried to pick up books I had requested, only to be told that they were in St Mary's Library (King James) where the main library was moved to during the renovation works. I wandered over there to find that they had just packed the books and sent them back over to the main library. This was becoming a joke. So I went back to the main library to find that they couldn't find the book in question *sigh* I gave in and thought i'd print off some reading instead. Tried to print them off only to be told that the printers weren't working. WHAT? So where could I print my stuff off? The Bute. And where is the Bute? BEHIND BLOODY ST MARY'S LIBRARY. I could have killed someone there and then. So I went to the Bute to print off my stuff, except online readings didn't want to open. I wanted to cry. Instead, I trundled home defeated and deflated by my unproductive, waste of a morning, heavy books in tow and no readings for the upcoming philosophy seminar. Boo.

I managed to get a bit of reading done before I remembered that I needed to be in town again for the weekly pub night for our society. I also remembered that i was off to attend an LGBT traffic light party. How fun! The rules are supposedly: Red for "I'm taken", amber for "It's complicated," and green for "I'm single". I didn't talk to many people at the party. To be fair I wasn't really there for myself but as "wingwoman" for my friend. I did meet a nice bi guy though ... very cute.

Anyway, once we got bored we went back to the pub where we sang songs and laughed at each other till closing time. I was buzzing and tired at the same time. How long am I supposed to keep up all this socialising business?


Tuesday 27th September

I don't feel so good. I have a committee meeting later. I'm staying in bed.

*Several hours later*

I went to the committee meeting and left early. Apparently people were worried about my abrupt departure. Aw, it's nice to know they care. Bed it is.


Wednesday 28th September

I've lost my voice. My body aches. I feel rubbish. I think I'm ill.

I'm also missing out on this beautiful weather. It makes me sad. I'm going to go and cycle later to make myself feel better.


Thursday 29th September 

Feeling a bit better. Woke up early to do some work (Thanks for the pats on the back guys) and then went into town, only to cart back 20 or so books. That's the downside of living in the Badlands (the area of St Andrews that's south of the main streets - it's the area between town and Morrisons), carrying books home is a work out in itself.

People were handing out The Saint today. I must say, I'm a bit disappointed. A shoddy job was done of my feature piece and they spelt my name wrong on the photo I submitted *sigh* I'm sure by now readers will know that I'm not responsible for how my articles look in the final print, but you have to agree that this is just poor workmanship:

It really doesn't take much to skew a photo properly

My photo: Top centre

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