Nott What You'd Expected...

Full Speed Ahead

Hmmmm. 21st birthday thoughts..... Overall impression? As probably expected, a little overrated. I think we've talked it to death here in the flat, the merits of a non-US 21, and the buildup to Birthday is always a little overrated (something about our already ego-centric society gearing up for even more ME time...) anyway, so getting the most out of the day was a careful balance between researching for the British Novel paper due Thursday and figuring out exactly what places would be open in Notts on a Tuesday night.... as we found out.... not many....

Still coming off the buzz of a solid Final test, I pretended to research before meeting up with Mary downtown at Starbucks for some quality slacking/socializing time before her friend Andrea arrived from Luther. I'm always amazed at how packed or absolutely desolate the basement in the Starbucks can be... and also how loud people will talk on their cell phones...

The guys decided to test out some local pubs pre-dinner, so we made it to the Whitemoor (maybe a block from the house... visible on a clear day from the kitchen....?)- much closer than The Lion, our usual digs, but just as full of liquid. My first legal drink, graciously purchased by Brandon, was a Guinness-wannabe mild ale- full bodied and....yeah, it was beer. We 'redhotchilipeppered' our way through Electric Cars, the now attractive qualities of the Weakest Link Lady, and more- We returned to the flat for dinner, smokey and a little more relaxed....
For dessert, Carol baked a delicious marble cake in the shape of a TV Remote, thus solidifying my position as 'that tv guy'. It's an interesting, pressure-filled job- the job of cake maker, especially after 9 months- what could she possibly pick?
The themed birthday cake is a symbol for your very existence. One symbol in the world to describe you, in cake form.... what would it be? To be perfectly honest, as she brought it out, I thought it was a pint glass.... but no dice.

Aaron had a trombone cake, Hilary today was on the receiving end of a huge chocolate and coconut cake covered in flowers- flowers resting on a hill (Hil), get it? So what could I expect? A mouth for talking so damned much, perhaps, but certainly not anything to do with running (it's been a while), or anything academic. Maybe it's my aversion to silence, but whenever conversation at the table lulls, I try to spice it up- maybe something in the news, maybe a tv show I saw... is it worthy of a TV remote for a cake?

Yeah, it is. I take a TV class at the university, I relate everything in my life to Seinfeld, The Office, Arrested Development, or any other critically acclaimed yet avoided by viewers kind of bit. To be fair, I've never actually confused exploits from tv as my own, nor do I refer to characters as 'a friend of mine' when recounting the plotline, but as my memory goes, it can't be far off...

Our night out was a race against time. Ready by 10, on tram by 10 something, tram guy announces trams aren't running because of accident, walk to other tram stop a mile away, ride into town, find out three of the places we want to go are closed, and try to get as many drinks down before another one locks its doors.Eventually we found Lloyd's, a bar that could care less that Hilary was turning 21 in an hour, but more than willing to serve a pack of 10 eager Americans. The girls ordered girly drinks in pitcher-form, while I was lucky enough to have willing buyers all night... there are some perks to 21....I guess I'll never understand why, in a city with close to 40,000 students, in a country where people are drunk or drinking at 9am, and kids can drink when they're 18, the bars and pubs close so damned early. It boggles my mind. I've never been in a place where, when the final bell rings, there have been less than 20 people there.... the way I see it, if you've got willing drunkards, go for it. I'm sure they're trying to curb (or kerb) wild late night drunken behaviour, but it was my birthday. And on birthdays, selfish musings can be more selfish than normal.
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I write now, with a ticking timebomb to diffuse in front of me- my British Novel paper, which for all intensive purposes, has kindof ruined Hil's birthday. After last night, the focus in the flat shifted from Novel test to Novel paper- due today (Thursday) at 6. Yesterday, Hil's bday, was spent laboring away, trying to fit a month's worth of work into 36 hours.

There should be some kind of personality test or indepth research study on the different ways people handle stressful situations and papers like this. I tend to do one of two things: do it all right away, then laugh (this is a very rare occurance), or wait until the last moment and cram.

This time, i took door #2. I have been struggling with a topic for weeks now, and finally came up with something not altogether interesting, but maybe worth hashing out for 3000 words. This time yesterday, I had zero research and zero words, while now- a few nalgenes and poptarts later- I'm resting on my laurels- if by laurels I mean 1800 words and room to improve.

Research is ok, but organizing this crap is a nightmare, especially when one of the books is considered to be a Cult Classic for the working class in postwar Britian, but not classic enough to do any scholarly work on.... thus I'm left with thousands of movie reviews of its adaptation, but nothing to work with otherwise. Basically, the paper is a comparison between Jane Austen's narrative stance and use of free indirect discourse in Persuasion to Allan Sillitoe's use of second-to-third person narration in Saturday Night and Sunday Morning. It's a gas.

After this though, it's smooth sailing. Revisions tomorrow, peer reviews, big TV test (let's hope all of this 'research' pays off.... on Saturday, followed by actual paper due Tuesday, and International Studies final on Wednesday.

It's hard to focus when Luther's just getting out, but now's when a semester's worth of work at Uni actually pays off, so a semester's worth of laziness will have to subside.....

posted by Kevin @ 2:05 PM