Injury time goals...

It's 5pm on Sunday evening, I have about 2 assignments due in over the next 4 days, so what else would I be doing but updating my blog that I haven't touched in two weeks? Cooking French (belgian) Toast is what! It's about the only thing I can afford at the mo.
It is very very strange to think that almost a year has gone by since I started this blog, strange because it hasn't really been that long, less then 9 months. Also very strange was booking a one-way flight for my return home (26th June!!!). With less than 2 weeks left, most of which will be spent with me panicking at 3pm when I have a presentation due in an hour and haven't slept yet, I'm gettin ready for ma parents to descend upon Belgiumland next w/e to paint the town red.
So over the next week I'm going to sit down and make a list of things I need to do and see before I leave, because I doubt I'll be back anytime soon. Also I need to binge on Mitraillettes; man I'm gonna miss those.
Overall I have very few regrets about the year, starting out was very tough, and in retrospect I would have done a lot better had I just sorted out accommodation earlier, and not had repeats last autumn, but sure then I would have missed Freshers' Week in Trinners which was da bomb. Also I shouldn't have trusted my bank to sort out a loan in anything less then six weeks, but that's easy to say now I suppose. I also probably should have wandered about a bit more, which I liked (apart from that one time during the kot-et-Scout where I misread the map [a b/w photocopy] and ended up deep in a local park), and I wish I could have avoided the glare on those sunny days as, true to form, I got these hives that I always get this time of year :( -
but I blame UCL for putting my Lecture theatres/PC labs on the opposite side of the town from my kot. I'm sure there's more to say so I'll write a more comprehensive summary blog when I leave, for now it's back to trying to convert a java program to perl...oh the joys..

Any similarity with Nikki's Blog is purely plagiarism.

Hey Trinity Ballers...

Hey Trinity Ballers,
What was it like in Dublin City?
I'm 1000 K away, but sure
I know I don't feel as shitty,
As you do,
Mortals can't drink as much as you,
I swear it's true.

Hey there ball girls,
You didn't worry 'bout the distance,
Now your ankles are all swollen,
And you still look & smell like you're pissed:
Bloodshot-eyes,
Your little toe is part incised,
and you bruised your side.

Oh it's the Ball in Trinity,
For which I've no affinity,
I can't say it was shitty,
For I'd be sued by MCD,
(tho, they can't get to me)...

Hey there tuxedos,
Your dried vomit's getting hard,
A fiver says that you can't name that girl,
But cootees can leave a scar,
Did you get wood?
Your momma always said you would,
That blo was good.!

Hey there hangovers,
I've got so much left to say,
Multi-syllabic words may confuse you,
Plains White Pills take pain away,
Don't take them all,
You'd be even likelier to fall,
The Gards, they'd call.

Oh it's the Ball in Trinity,
Über masculinity.
With gladragged femininity,
Endangering virginity,

80 quid seems pretty far,
Did you get within a mile of the bar?
Or did you smuggle it in, having no other way?
Were you on the morning's first bus?
Or did you fall asleep because you did not drink Red Bull along the way?
No matter what, I promise you,
You'll do the same thing next year too,
The world will change but the ball will be the same,
And you're to blame.

Hey there young Ballers,
That rented suit used to look spiffy,
But those beers have ruined the colours, fool!
And now it smells quit iffy- and the bruise!
That smell is coming out of you,
You can drink wherever you want to,
Yes all that lovely beer's for you,
It'll make you spew...

Oh it's the Ball in Trinity,
Yes the Ball in Trinity,
Not much rhymes with Trinity,
Not much is less than infinity,
Less then infinity.

And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stoopid...

"Well, I'm back"

I've been in Dublin the past 10 days. Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin, seachas, mo thinteán. Back in October I decided that I'd be better off cutting Christmas in Dublin in favour of waiting for the Trinity IV. Good choice. Best fun I've had in months. I met a lot of new people but you'll have to excuse me, I've a terrible face for names. 'Specky' they call me, and 'bandy nose'...

Stopped for some food in the airport before I got the bus home, typically the food was cold, I made a complaint and the woman says to me "I'm sorry, I don't work here", then she just walks off towards the exit. Ignorant bitch. Niall's bidet on Friday started the week off with a bang, and a kip on his couch, (3 months away from home and I couldn't even stay on the Northside for one night).

Saturday, went out with some guys from Aughrim Street. Back to Nat's house and 'Cars' in HD, another night on a couch in a residence that wasn't mine. On the way home stopped off at the GMB for some IV cinematography. I still got the funny. Later on Sunday, Christmas dinner with the family, and I met my 13 month old niece for the second time.

The rest of the week was taking up by all things debate. Schoolies on Monday on about pharmaceuticals in the third world. Twas my first attendance at a debate in months, I remember it like it was tomorrow. Wednesday, judging workshop, first opp-ed banning private schools, with Ctolm. He and I both did 6 years in C.U.S., but not at the same time. F*ck me I'm old! - to borrow from Hefner parlance.

Wednesday night chaired private business again, It's a tough job but somebody's got to do it. Then did my second speech in a row in the chamber without notes, this one on immigration. Good times.

Thursday came the workload, The Kingsmill-Moore invitational, which surprisingly didn't have a Hist team, myself and Costigan having decided to let the Earley Brothers compete instead. I'm kind of nice like that sometimes. Oh in case I forget I've got a great story involving Costigan and some Sheep, but I'll save that for a later date. The last week in April, perhaps. Set up the Hist Conversation room for the feeding of the fifty, let Jamie think he was making the decisions, god bless him! The motion for the final was "That this house would abolish private property", and became a Capitalism/Communism argument. The GMB is a lot like a commune. Except without the free love or the Jonestown-style mass suicides.

Friday, I paid fees for second half of the year, not so good times.

The powers that be decided I was worthy of a Trinity student card (the fools!). Headed back over to The GMB where there was work to be done. Not for the first time in my life I was packing. A little later it was my finger on the button to play said IV Videos. The films were shot in the GMB, as the director should have been. Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large numbers, or the ability of people in large numbers to misread webpages, scrolled at an acceptable rate, in which their only job is to get a room number, and a position in a debate. Meanwhile Chris (4 Ents) & Orla were running around looking for a good beating stick, but they soon found out the main problem about running an IV, you just can't get the staff.

Saturday, packed my bag for Sunday's flight and went back to the GMB, where else, for some more button pushing. However due to the reluctance of a team from NUIG to turn up on day 2 of the IV, myself and Darren got to Dummy in two rounds. We'll be competing in the Tilbury House IV in Cologne in March so it was good practice. Last year we racked up 10 points dummying, this year we got 5 from two rounds. We still have it. I love dummy speaking almost as much as after-dinner streaking. It's not that I like the sound of my own voice, it's just that I like hearing myself speak. The first motion centred around a guy who wanted to drive the Jews into the sea, but not the way Moses did it, he actually wants to get them wet. It was while I was comparing the Iranian President's legitimacy to that of The King of say, Spain, that I on at least four occasions said "The King Of France", but would anyone have the courtesy to tell me what I was saying? No bleeding way. Of course it wouldn't be the last time i said summit stupid on that day.

Ross and Maggs walked away with all the prize money, but they were caught and made to return it.

Saturday night, another great final and night out. Unfortunately, I dance like I wank: it's fun, but it's not advisable in public*. After a few long goodbyes I left the club with a fwown on my face.

The next morning it was off to Belgium, not Spain with me for another few months. I've got a strange feeling I'll be back soon: I wish I knew how to quit you, (as Heath Ledger said to his dealer). A funny thing happened on the way back, but not to me.

It was cold when I got back, I made a pair of snow-shoes, but the heat of my feet melted them. Oh dear, what a pity never mind.

Went downstairs to the train station under the airport and bought my ticket back to LLN, "change in Leuven" they told me, why I couldn't just get it there, I'll never know.

I leave you with the latest bit of good news for fat people: thin people are delicious!


*(I was considering using the phrase "human consumption" there, but that would have been tasteless.)

Planes, Trains and autobuses...

An ordinary private computer science student from the College Historical Society, Aughrim Street Scouts, National Venture Scout Programme Team and Da Northsoide began his year abroad with a 6.25 flight to Charleroi (Brussels South). Now by 6.25 I mean 7.10 and by Brussels south i mean Frankfurt, Germany. Turns out Belgium was under heavy fog so the guys couldn't land the plane. It actually worked out well the best because I was only 4.5 hours away from my actual destination - a new record for R***air.

Anyhoo, queue a walk up to the nice people in the info booth in Frankfurt and the use of my best German. Discovered that the bus to Charleroi would shortly be outside the door, marvelled at the distance between Frankfurt and Brussels on a nearby map and got on the bus. 50 mins later the driver felt it was time to start moving. On the way we crossed the Moselle, and saw the only castle remaining on the river to have survived the war, which was nice, (the castle, not the war).

Despite the fact that UCL told me I could get a direct bus from the airport to the town, I decided to accept the advice of a kind stranger and hopped on the shuttle bus to Charleroi, the town not the cattleshed ("airport"). When we got to Gare Charleroi Sud, I heaved my 3 bags of over 35kg up the steps to platform 5 and it was off to Nivelles with me. In Nivelles i got a suburban train which went north to Brussels and back down to L-l-N.

Having taken several breaks on the way up the stairs on to the main street of L-l-N, I saw it. The best college town in the world ever.

Imagine if you would if Connolly station was placed smack bang in the middle of new square of TCD. Now imagine if only students got the train there, and the next station on was for a theme park. Now imagine if Stephen´s Green shopping centre was also placed in Fellows Square, but had the shops from Dundrum, and a basement bit with a Louvre-esque glass covered sous-terrain. Now imagine if all the main roads around TCD went under it, and every building (apartments, newly relocated Connolly and Stephen's Green SC had underground parking. What you are currently imagining is Louvain-la-Neuve.

After finding the hostel in which i would be staying temporarily, I went for a stroll around the batements. The place was quite noisy as 5 or 6 fraternity/sorority type groups were initiating their new recruits; press-ups, rolling around in beer and food, and generally being shouted at.

Then i went into the aforementioned Shopping centre and found the greatest toy shop ever, better indeed the ones I'd visited in NYC, Oberbeieber, Cologne and Brussels. They've got 6 foot tall Marsupilami's and loads of board games in a strange language called French and the best selection of Top-Trumps I've ever seen.

Nehoo, tis off to the lecture type thingies with me 2mo.

G