I take it she is dead, then.

Apparently they told her that I love her, and then the father, in a whimsical moment, told her I'm gonna go to Cambridge or the other place and do great things. Which makes me happy. It's what she would have wanted to hear.

And then she squeezed Eileen's hand, and then my dad's, and over the next few seconds her pulse grew sparser and sparser, and then just... wasn't there any more. It's the best way to die, I guess. No seizures, no contractions, no convulsions or groans, just passing away. Apparently the high dose of diamorphine was too much for her heart to take, and that was what made it 'just stop'. That makes sense, I think.

It's sinking in a bit, now. It'll sink in more when I go to the funeral, and when we sort out her belongings. I know she left me and my sisters £2000 (yes - I gasped too. Sharp intake of breath time. She was quite rich, but it was all in savings and she never did take it out of the bank and enjoy it) so I imagine that'll go in my university fund, which is looking an awful lot healthier now. (I didn't have one before this. 'Sup, Cambridge? I'll pay my tuition fees in brilliance, wit, references to 1980s comedies, and car-jacking!' I think not.) We'll have to sort out her stuff, too... there'll be jewellery and ornaments and furniture to sort out, along with photos and things. That part might be quite interesting.

I look forwards to having Rise and Fall of the Third Reich back, because she gave me it.

Also, I can function. I'm quite proud. I thought I'd be a nervous wreck. Still, the prospect of doing work in the remainder of today doesn't exactly fill me with joy.

In a way, you almost remind me of Amber - dying of something minor because your kidneys are totally shot. I mean, I doubt everything else wrong with you helped, but the infection that your kidneys can't handle is the thing that'll finally carry you off.

Hate it.

And not even because I'm single and bitter. I'm in a relationship - two, in fact - and I'm rarely without offers. But the commercialisation, the whole fact that people think they love each other, the meaningless of relationships, how each single 'individual' one follows the same pattern... it disgusts me. It's scary, how even feelings can become forced and meaningless. Not even emotion's authentic any more.

Also, my head really hurts. I think I might have knocked it. I can't remember.

Looking at photos from last August, I can feel the sunlight on me even now.

Also, I am drunk.

It feels like it's Friday, but it's not. I guess I'll find that out in the morning.

Umfrage #1331832 Make my decisions for me.
Open to: Alle, detailed results viewable to: Alle

Do I take History or German?

I am equally good at both and enjoy both equally. The teaching is more consistent for German - most of the teachers suck equally - whereas one of the teachers I know for History is REALLY GOOD but boring, and the other has been rubbish all through lower school, but is apparently good for A-level.

I am already planning on taking Maths, Chemistry, Physics and Further Maths, so I want something that I can take and do the AS before dropping it at the end of Y12. German might be better for that, and it has the advantage that I want to be fluent in German, and have native German speakers in my family. However, I am also excessively good at History (full marks in all my coursework so far) and I love that, and can manage it on my own.

In short, both of them are good ideas. Disadvantages - German has a speaking element which I have problems with, and I think for History you have to study the Tudors for part of it, which I hate. But you also get to do the Russian Revolution, I think, and the unification of Germany, which I love... but I really want to speak fluent German, and I may do a degree with a year in continental Europe, where it'd come in handy, and... too many decisions.

You know you're getting depressed/lonely/cold/bitter/alienated/overworked/stressed/ill ^{[delete as appropriate]} when you have to shut the internet down in disgust that every advert you ever see is about love or sex.

Yes.

If you just read the one-word answer above, I'll bet right now you're thinking that I'm for banning gay marriage, for saying that 'marriage is only valid between a small section of the population'. But I think that since religion can influence what the government does, even though it shouldn't be able to, then the government should be able to influence what religion does.

I believe that the government should declare any marriage between consenting adults legal, no matter how many consenting adults there are, or what genders, ethnicities, or anything else you care to mention that they are of. But I believe that government safeguards are needed to stop damaging types of relationships from being legal - adults marrying children, forced marriages, incestuous marriages. If the goverment said that any form of partnership between anyone whatsoever was fine, then although only a tiny number of people would abuse the law, it'd make a number of unpleasant things rather more easy to access.

That said, that relies on the government being a sensible one, that will legalise all forms of marriage between consenting adults. Which we really don't have at the moment. But... in an ideal world, it would be government-regulated, albeit loosely.

ROFLCOPTER

Flake is selling his car on eBay.

I guess if you don't speak German or like Rammstein or Feeling B, this link won't mean very much to you. So... that makes maybe one person it'll be relevant to? Haha.

It has 22 hours to go, and is 'das ultimative Geschenk', apparently, so if you have a spare few thousand euros, you know you want it! It's even signed by the man :D

Funny, how things change.

This time last year, I could never have predicted what 2008 would hold.

I'm beginning to think that 2009 will be different and amazing in ways I can't imagine at the moment. So, you know, bring it on. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

2008 was the best year of my life.

So much happened. So much happiness, and a hell of a lot of things that were just plain awesome or good fun. And I really changed as a person, too... I know myself better now, understand what I want from life, and aren't scared of aiming for it. Or of failing.

I'm happy. I'm more fucked-up, by normal peoples' standards, than I ever was; more self-indulgent, more cruel, more impulsive. But I see a beauty in life that I never noticed before; there's joy in happiness, and romance in misery.

Thankyou, I guess, to the people who changed me so I could change myself. You were the ones who read my angst-saturated friends-only journal entries, who replied to my texts at 1am, who laughed at my jokes even when they went too far. I hope I made your year, too.

I don't know how 2009 could possibly improve on this, but it better do.

So, me and a couple of friends are meeting up for the day next Saturday in Nottingham.

We want to wear fancy dress.

Bearing in mind that my budget is relatively limited, and that I already own a fairly authentic Russian hat and can easily procure cheap clothes from charity shops, and that a costume shop exists in the town where I live, but I am too nervous to go in it, and that my friend is fairly handy with makeup and can draw on fake facial hair... what should I dress up as?

Writing statistics coursework at ridiculous hours of the morning is so fun. That said, it's my own fault. I set myself mini-deadlines - tonight, for example, I had to finish the section on methods - and if I don't meet them, then I make myself.

I ran it through a reading age calculator, though (which is ironic, given that it's on the readability of various mass media sources) and it came out with a SMOG Grade of 18.18, which is allegedly of similar complexity to the Harvard Business Review. I'm flattered, considering that this masterpiece only gets a SMOG Grade of 9.55, or allegedly as complex as the Reader's Digest, and even my more well-written blog posts don't fare as well, ending up at 14.06, or allegedly as complex as the New York Times.

It's Christmas Eve, my grandma's coming round any second now, we have a huge meal, a few modest presents, and some communal games planned, and I think I might actually be excited.

This is my favourite day of the season, not the 25th like everyone else. It's more friendly, more intimate, and I've always felt more of a connection to it than the hugh American, commercialised extravaganza that is the day after.

Mr winkler is gay. he is the worst english teacher EVER he suxs. He gave me a F!!!! because i didnt read some gay book. Even though it wasnt my fault. i dot like him and niobody does because he is gay and stupid and ugly and retarted and fat. i wish he will gats firedfrom his job and goes to the moon or a gay retared place. he is GAY GAY GAY GAY!!!!! HE IS THE WORST PERSON EVER. HE IS SO BAD. I HOPE HE GET SOME SICK.

It's a curse, being this clever.
I write notes to my life,
scribble staccato on every surface;
tickets,
receipts,
five-pound notes,
nothing escapes my graphite presence.
I stop sometimes to add citations,
last names of acquaintances,
feverishly indexing,
damming streams of consciousness.
I heave my sighs through dates and times,
the magic in the numbers
always quantified by my annotations
but sometimes I wonder
if I'd be better living
and letting things write themselves down.

This, a novella by Joey Comeau, one of the people behind this webcomic, is what I've spent the past half-hour feverishly reading.

I personally think it's brilliant, if only because I want to be most of the protagonists.

You should give it a read.