Shameless

You know those days when you really want to get things done, but somehow never actually get off your ass and do 'em? Yep. I couldn't even convince myself to get out of bed until almost one p.m. today. And even then, it was only because I couldn't get back to sleep. I've been tired a lot lately. I could worry about having the flu or mono or something, but in all honesty I'm just lazy.

I spent a good part of the time I was awake arranging my trip to Ireland, and the rest reading comics to try to stop myself from thinking. (Shortpacked! is pretty good, actually. It's a sequel to It's Walky!, but it's not especially confusing to read them out of order as I have.) It wasn't an especially successful attempt, mostly because when my mind decides it wants to go in circles, it's nigh-impossible to stop. Anyone who's had to listen to me whine about the same issue multiple times (and that's most of my friends at this point) is well aware of this. Just smile, pat me on the back, and -- if it gets really bad -- stuff something chocolatey in my mouth to make me shut up for a minute.

Though, if you're Disser, you're probably more likely to do the mental equivalent of kicking me in the balls until I realize I'm acting like a certain whiny teenager again.*

Oh. Right. I'm supposed to be keeping a travelogue.

Erm. I'm joining the juggling society at the uni, which means I get to spend Monday evenings throwing balls at people and playing with fire. Good thing I've already cut my hair short -- singeing happens rather frequently, especially with the fire staves. It's not an especially useful skill, but the people are awesome...and it's fun. Also, the girls in the society like looking at videos of kittens as much as I do. (Some of the boys do, too. They just don't admit it because they're hanging tenuously onto their last shreds of masculinity as is.)

Wednesday night I went clubbing again. The university venues were having a theme night: "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." They advertised chocolate cocktails at the SU bar, a chocolate fountain, and free sweets, all going until three in the morning. All at the low, low price of eight pounds.

That last bit is to be read in a sarcastic tone of voice, by the way. Mostly because they closed the bar over an hour earlier than advertised, and the fountain and sweets were put away two-and-a-half hours in. Also, they were playing Katy Perry, and my shirt was damp because one of my flatmates and his friend dumped half a beer on me while he was dancing.

So I rounded up Becky and Ed, who I'd been hanging out with for a good chunk of the evening, and we went back to my flat and had hot chocolate. I prefer to make my own fun, anyway.

Mona and I made another excursion into the sweet shoppe. Aniseed balls ftw. We've also had a Star Trek: TNG marathon, punctuated with frequent cries of "DatyDatyDatyDatyKITTY!"

It has been decided that a robot kitty would be the best pet of all, but only if it had patches of fluff upon it.

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*I mean Anakin Skywalker in Episodes II and III. Frakkin' wanker. Seriously. I can't watch 20 minutes of either of those movies without wanting to punch him in the face.