Welcome to my cosy little attic. I hope you feel at home. Feel free to navigate. I hope my insanity is catching. Comments are more than welcome.
What's Up (so don't ask)
30/10/04 The Dude left us - RIP
15/03/05 I turn 18... start counting my grey hairs
16/05/05 Last Exam. Forever, I hope.
21/05/05 Jack Johnson Concert - KickAss
25/05/05 I graduate... maybe
07/06/05 Kaz turns 18. About time bro.
share the madness
:: how can I tie my hands to the bedpost without my tie?
11:24 pm
Heyhey.
Cigs: 8
Excuses: 5
Time spent travelling on buses between 7.30 and 9.30: 1 hour
Small Scoops of Mashed Potatoes for Dinner: 1
Time I Have to Wake Up Tomorrow: 7am
MUN conferences attended as of tomorrow: 7
Time spent in doctors waiting room: 1 hour 20 minutes
Time spent with doctor: 0 seconds
Asses squeezed on film: 2
Ties lost due to theft: 1
The first excuse is linked to the bus thing. Half-way to school this morning I was re-informed that it was uniform day, due to school photos. So, reaching Cascais I had to head back home where the stress of the morning forced me to poison my body. The continual stress of knowing that I'd have to catch another bus led me to r e l a x by way of nicotine.
The two cigs at lunch and one after school have the same excuse: I'm weak and hungry.
Then, back home (arriving at 1800 due to going with Isabel to the doctor, hence the wait and lack of medical attention) I spat in the face of modern medicine by going against the Surgeon General's lies. Smoking will not harm my baby. Then, watching Requiem for a Dream, the entire addiction thing was so enticing that I felt that I needed to partake, if only in order to further understand the characters. Then I had one for fun. This is not a failure of Project Aries. I said it would take time.
Who would've guessed? Dutch food is disgusting... we had some wierd stuff for dinner (including the worst sausage in the world, aptly named worst... it really is) so I ate very little. Add this to the reason for cig number 8. Don't get me wrong, there's awesome food in Holland, but it's all in snack form. People in Portugal think they know what a Croquete is, but that's nothing in comparison to a Kroket in the Lowlands... and the fast food places are open all night long, which is great for munchies after a night out at a Dub concert. Then there are the pancake houses... the wierdest ingredients become painfully delicious in these havens of batter. There's more, but you get the drift. Anyway, most of the 'more' involves different types of cookies.
Tomorrow IMUN 2k4 begins... and I'm looking forward to it. I mean, a place where getting up and saying controversial things is a good thing sounds like heaven to me. It's my 7th conference (5th in Portugal) and it'll be wild. Eddie surprised me by finding one of the most useful documents we have... well done. Kudos, and all that. A while ago, I wrote an opening speech which has now been trashed, due to a sudden change of policy on our behalf. The best thing about representing a country like Guinea Bissau is that nobody cares or knows about your policies. hehehe. Here's the old opening speech, very crude and it got me into trouble at school, but remembering last year's conference, they should know that trouble is what I love:
Honourable Chair, Fellow Delegates, Distinguished Guests;
We are gathered here today to witness this joyous occasion. It is the union of the strong, and the weak. It has so far been a troubled relationship. We, the weaker states, feel that our voice is not heard. Please listen, we have a lot to say.
Europe knows nothing of the troubles of the world. They eat their French fries and watch the theatre of war through wide screen TVs, while we are forced to bathe in blood. We know war, we know what war entails. You judge the actions of a country at war without knowing what you’re talking about. The United States is at war. Their actions are not to be condemned by the international community. We stand by their strength and commitment to fighting the war on terror.
This will be a successful union. The offspring of this union will be justice. The offspring of this union will be peace. The offspring of this union will be prosperity.
Thank you,
I yield the floor to the chair.
This year I'll be chairing a certain portion of the conference, which is why I have to get up so fucking early to head out to CAISL for chair training (no jokes about standing on four legs, please) and although I think it'll be boring, it'll give me lots of attention and as anyone will tell you, attention is what I crave.
The photos were fun. For the year 13 one, I was moved from dead center, front row, to last row, off to the side. Painful blow to my ego (like when they bite) but I survived. I took revenge by rubbing my ass during the Prefect photo, defiling the Holy School's Ancient Customs, and further revenge by grabbing Hugh's for the second shot. I'm just pervy.
The last issue of tonight: The Great Tie Theft. After we had taken our photos, we suspected that we were free, but out of nowhere in swooped Mrs Simoes (no accent here because Blogger fucks it up) and demanded that we relinquish our beautiful starry IB ties, only to be handed down to the grubby-handed year 12s (with the exception, of course, of Olivia). There was an outcry, we nearly approached Revolution, but instead we took smaller action by marking our ties with (you guessed it) our names, a fad that I initiated, so we'll know that we got our own ties back. Satan/Simoes promised that we would... we'll see who grabbed the short end of the stick by the time we're done with this one.
So, for now, be good, wish me luck and don't be a bitch.
G
