The Zap - the site the Chinese government is currently using as its home page

Saturday, May 28, 2005

I need a weeeeeeeee!

I've been saying that a lot lately, mainly because I've been needing to wee a lot lately. That either means that I drink way too much water, I have some sort of urine infection or all this exam stuff has converted my disposition into an extremely nervous one. Considering that the problems tend to arise either while I'm revising or just before an exam, I'm going to go for the latter. Also, I've been sweating like a whore over the last few days, what with the weather and all, so I find it unlikely that I'm needing to pee any excess water out (although I'll admit that I do have a problem with water drinking, and I'll be seeing someone to help me get over the addiction as soon as my exams are finished). Thanks to the antibiotics I'm on for acne as well, my skin's been ultra-sensitive to the sun, and I've been burning up like crazy, especially on my nose. An hour or two in anything verging on clear skies and I'm bloody Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. Sri Lanka will be fun! A face covered in zits et al or one peeling off at the seams - nice choice.

Back to the topic of urination, it's been fairly disruptive to my revision "schedule", but it really became a problem on Wednesday. 10 minutes before my M4 (that's Mechanics 4 for those who know little, and that's one of my Further Maths A-level modules for those who know even less) I needed to go. The thing is, I'm not great at peeing when other people are in the room, and just as I was about to go, somebody else got the same idea. By the time he got out, the urge had subsided, and knowing that it was probably more of a nervous thing than a full bladder thing, I went into the exam hall having not done what I'd needed to do. Five minutes in to the exam, my knee started to shake. I continued for another 20 minutes or so, but it eventually got to the stage where will-power wasn't going to be enough to get me by. I asked to be excused so I could relieve myself (wee, not wank) and lost five minutes of exam time. The five minutes itself wasn't that detrimental. What was a problem was the fact that I was unable to solve one of the questions during my knee-shaking period (I know that because it was a 'prove that' question, and therefore the answer was written on the question paper, I just couldn't get it). I came back to it at the end, during my non-knee-shaking period, and just couldn't see where I'd made a mistake.

After the exam, I tried the question again, and thanks to my photographic memory (does a photographic memory actually mean that you remember things like photographs in your mind or just that you have a really good memory? I've never really been sure. I think that people who think the former are probably taking the phrase too literally. Maybe it applies to both. After all, how can you tell what somebody's describing with a phrase like that when it exists only in their mind? Anyway, in this instance I mean that I could see what I'd written in my answer book as if I'd taken a mental photo of it, despite thinking that that probably isn't generally what is meant by a photographic memory) I realised that my mistake had not been a mechanics error, as I had been looking for, but a simple algebraic one, which is probably why I didn't spot it. The question is, is this the greatest blog of all time? Wait, no it's not (although the answer's yes, by the way). The question is, would I have made the same mistake the first time I did the question if I hadn't needed the toilet? At first I was pretty convinced that I would have, seeing as I failed to spot the mistake despite looking through it several times whilst not needing the toilet. However, the more I thought about it, the more I remembered how much I was rushing through the paper at that stage so I could get it done before I went to the toilet, and combined with the reasoning for not spotting the mistake I gave earlier, it's a distinct possibility that a weak bladder did in fact screw me over. In retrospect I should have just done a Paula (I can't believe I ignored my, and furthermore, my only, exam tip!). Actually, in retrospect I should have just gone to the toilet before the exam :. I wish they had proper smilies on this site. I need them to compensate for my lack of real emotion. Yes, that's right; I don't even have enough emotion for real neutrality.

Anyway, all that's frustrating for two reasons (three if you count the fact that the last sentence didn't make any sense whatsoever). Firstly, I was hoping to get 100% on that paper as I'm inevitably to drop marks on most of the other modules, and although it's still not impossible after scaling, it's unlikely, considering that I couldn't do part of one question and I'm bound to have made some stupid mistakes elsewhere. The other reason is that last year I got 295 out of 300 in Physics AS, with all 5 marks being dropped on the only module that I'd got 100% on in the mock, and the only modules that, guess what, I needed a pee the whole way through! I really need to start learning to live and... erm... learn. I'm so clever, but clever ain't wise, as Pete Doherty would say. Although how can someone so unwise realise the truth of that? Paradoxes, eh?

Apart from M4, I've thus far also had P4 (Pure 4, another Maths module, on Monday) and my Physics practical (on Tuesday). Suffered a bit during Physics for not really knowing my stuff, although it is Physics, so there's only so badly it could have gone (i.e., not quite 100%), and since I got such a high mark last year, I'm not really too bothered. P4, on the other hand, I completely caned. Not one question I had to miss out and come back to later because I couldn't do it. Was well chuffed, and it was a nice confidence boost right at the beginning of exam season. If I don't get 100 on that, I'll cry. Well, the emotionless equivalent, anyway.

Since I've started exams now, some of you may think that it would be logical to infer that I've finished school. Seeing as my school seemingly pays no attention at all to exam dates when it schedules study leave, it wouldn't be a logical conclusion in the slightest, although you would be right. Spent most of my last day, i.e. last Friday, in a deep state of depression. I doubt it was because I'm to miss the place, purely because I've hated nearly every day there, although I do think I was sad to be leaving the place with such bitter memories. I started my time there uncomfortable with myself and uncomfortable with other people, and widely disliked for those reasons, and I finished it in exactly the same state. Seeing everyone laughing whilst taking photos of each other, with me reluctant to be involved and others reluctant to involve me, I couldn't help but be reminded of that. On a similar note, I felt like I'd been pushing some of my friends away over the previous couple of weeks, to the extent that I really did feel quite distant from them by the time it got to the final day. I obviously would have preferred to finish things with them on better terms, and I think it was in fact that that contributed more than anything to feeling so miserable. There was probably an element of fear there, as well - fear that I was going to lose contact with all of my friends within a few months, which was especially affecting since I didn't really have any friends to lose contact with after primary school, and fear of the unknown, with me not having any definite plans once my exams finish.

Actually, maybe that should read 'fear of boredom'. Two days since my last exam and I'm already bored out of my mind. It's the only reason I'm writing this, to be honest. It's not that I don't like writing these entries, it's just that I've set myself such high standards, I'm scared of letting myself down. Maybe that's why it's so good. I've also been writing a song over the last couple of days which sounds a bit like a cross between Bright Eyes and U2. As yet it's without a title, although it does have the line "I've got faith, it just hasn't quite kicked in". A bit of self-plagiarism never did anyone any harm. (I used a similar line in a poem once. I'm not sure how you were supposed to know that...) It also only has four chords, which either makes its beautifully simple or simply shit. Might add a chorus with a few different ones, if the mood takes me. I'm actually struggling slightly with this whole songwriting thing. It's all very easy getting a tune in my head and working on that vocally, but adding decent guitar to it really doesn't come as naturally as I thought it would. Should probably improve my repertoire a bit so I can plagiarise somebody else's work instead of my own. Hmm. This paragraph is crap. Seem to be struggling for synonyms. See, I did it again! "Struggling". Jesus. I need to start reading books. And revising.

So. Yeah. Bored. I could start reading and revising, although as I once told my dear old mother, the cure for boredom is not something boring. And more to the point, I don't want to. I wasn't bored on Wednesday. Oh Wednesday. Those were the days. Or day. Champions League final - what a totally brilliant match. I don't think I've ever felt such elation at anything, never mind a football match. Well, maybe when I won my Blue Peter badge, but that was a long time ago. When Xabi Alonso equalised, I was down on my knees celebrating with the players. I feel sorry for the fans of other clubs too stubborn or proud to hand over their loyalty to English football as a whole for just one evening, it was such an incredible high. God knows what I'll do if Spurs ever achieve something similar. I did miss the first half and hour of The Usual Suspects though, because they couldn't finish it off without extra time and penalties. Bastards. Then after The Usual Suspects I watched Scrubs (yes, this really is my life: what I watched on TV). It's still the funniest thing around, but I'm worried that it's starting to lose its grip on the title. For someone reason, the writer/producers/directors/whoever seem to be adamant on adding at least a hint of sentimentality to every episode. I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up and starting to pay more intention to these things, but they seem to be intent on inducing tears whether they're tears of laughter or not, and it's completely unnecessary. I'll put it this way - the funniest thing in this weeks episodes was Colin Farrell, and he's not a funny guy. Still a good chunk of the series to peak again.

Now, I'd like to take a moment to apologise, as I occasionally do. This time I'd like to do so for claiming that I would devote more time to this blog. It was a lie, and a knowing lie at that, but I think the reasons for me not being able to have been established (best blog in the world, etc), and I think they're sufficient. Plus, I've been trying to think up ways for this blog to make me famous, like when Homer made his Mr X site in The Simpsons. Woah. Checking that I'd got his alias in the episode right, I've found that Fox actually made a real Mr X website, to be found here. The Zap - discoveries when they happen, as they happen! I haven't discovered much of it, mind, so don't blame me if it's shit. Hmm. Maybe I need to work on the whole "discoveries when they happen, as they happen" theme to push on with my quest for blog-induced fame. Or maybe I need to make the blog famous. Although that does seem to defeat the point of getting easy fame. I'll carry on thinking about it.

Well, that's it folks - another slice of nothing. There's probably plenty of interesting stuff that I meant to put in here but slipped my mind, but then I have been writing this for in the region of eight hours, so forgive me for forgetting. Not eight hours solid, obviously. I played some Pro Evo for a bit. Had a shower. Sat in a towel for two hours. Went to the toilet a few times (have another look at the title). And I've just realised that we're the first generation without an original idea to be had. What a day.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Crisis of confidence

I'm having one of those at the moment. Started on Saturday. I feel like I'm shit at everything. And I know nothing. And I'm completely uncomfortable in my own skin (although I've always felt like that). Wrote my entry for the school yearbook yesterday. Not going to submit it though, because it's shit. It's partly to do with me screwing up all my mocks at school. Then on Saturday I had shitty driving lesson, where I realised I'll never be able to drive. I spoke to my mum about it and she said: "Don't worry - plenty of people who succeed academically struggle with other things. It's the way your brain works." Which basically reignited every paranoid fear I've ever had that I can't do anything apart from have academic success, purely because I'm clever. So then I convinced myself that I'm useless at everything else as well. And this was all preceded by my dad making me aware of how scared he is that I'm going to fuck my whole life up if I take a gap year ("What you going to do if you don't get into Oxford?!"). Thanks for the confidence, dad.

So I hate my dad for having no faith in me, my mum for giving me just as little faith in myself, and my sister for being a selfish bitch, depriving me of sleep by running around the house with her friends at 3 o'clock in the morning, and for forcing me to share in every single ounce of her teenage pain (comes home from school - "I hate my life! Wah wah wah wah wah! Nobody understands me! Wah wah wah wah wah! My braces haven't made my teeth straight! Wah wah wah wah wah!" Okay... shut up now), and then laughing or interrupting whenever I want to discuss any of my "pathetic" concerns with someone, or screaming her head off as soon as she realises that, just for a moment, someone's getting more attention than her. Oh, and I hate everyone else for sharing too much DNA with my family. It's lonely. I guess that explains why I'm not going to bother submitting my yearbook entry. And possibly why I've been saying a lot lately that makes me think "Why the fuck did I say that?!", although not necessarily whether I'm right or not in thinking that I keep making a twat of myself, and if so, why that's the case. Ooh, ooh, ooh, and I don't like living under the shadow of the thought that my suicide's an inevitability. Not sure what that's got to do with anything, just something that I recently realised I thought.

So anyway, having come to terms with the fact that I'm going to amount to nothing, and that I don't have long to do it, I've decided to try to get my blog back on track. Bear in mind, though, that quantity is likely to come at the price of quality. Plus, you know... I'm shit.

Monday, May 02, 2005

Snooker World Championship

Matthew Stevens just lost in the final. Again. Wanker. End.