of aliens and bunnies

In short, Wednesday ruled and was very dull at the same time. My new P.A came at 2pm, as predicted. The problem was, there was nothing to do: the film I wanted 2c wasn’t on anywhere in Cheshire, and poor Becs had a doctor’s appointment so I couldn’t go see her. I thought it necessary to give mark a tour of the campus, then we checked out the library to make sure “inside I’m dancing” wasn’t playing, which it wasn’t. In the end, I we borrowed a DVD of Alien from the library, and watched it on my computer.

However, I better explain something. Wednesday was the day of the Halloween disco, and I had packed my black leotard and a pair of thick tights in case I got chance to dress up. That morning, I had asked my home helper what I could wear with them, and she had bought a pair of pink bunny ears, bowtie and bob-tail for me. She said when the home helper came to give me my tea, she would help me change for the party.

But no home helper came, so I had to ask mark to give me my tea, and…err…I couldn’t waste the chance of going to the party dressed as a bunny girl, could I? Poor mark didn’t know what he’d got himself into! Oddly, though, he already knew the best way to put tights on, and a short while later, I was heading off to brandies bar, cute white tail attached to the back of my leotard by safety pin. I felt I looked pretty, and got many complements from the girls at the bar (most dressed as cats) and a few of the boys. My friends were very surprised, but I think they were cool with it.

However, better not wear my bunny girl outfit too often outside, as I am now nursing quite a bad cold. How girls do not die from the cold I do not know, but I must admit it was surprisingly comfortable. and yes, mum, i am doing SOME work.

huge spastic grin

hay, mark. remember when we used o watch the a-team?

…..that’ll be cool.

seriously, tho, I have a lot of hope for this, still maintaining that, after the superb job peter jackson did on the “unfilmable” lord of the rings, hollywood can film anything.

PAPAPA

last night my parents came round to interview a prospective personal assistant. Things are already pretty cool here, bbut it’ll be nice to replace social services home help with my own helper. This wway I can get out more, say to the arthouse cinema iin stoke. Anyway, the interview went very well, and the vacancy was filled. Nice enough bloke, and I look forward to dealing with him.

It struck me tho, that when the time came to say goodbye to my parents, I didn’t start blubbing like I used to. Perhaps I’m getting more mature? err…perhaps not.

Mark, fancy a beer?

My email system at uni is still dodgy, so I’m writing this here because its the best way of getting infomation to the right people. I keep this blog for a laugh: to let family and friends know howI’m getting along, and what I think of stuff. I did not intend to hurt anyone through it, but I have. I grossly misrepresented the views of my father and older brother, who mean no harm to anyone, least of all Charlotte wyatt.I’m sorry for any offense my rediculous site has caused. ok the fight ends here. I need an’ug.

poetry night

Last night college had organised a poetry recital at a local pub, near uni. Robert, my teacher had had a word with me about it, and we agreed to meet at 7pm for him to drive me to the pub. Given that social services come to help me eat at 6.45, I decided to buy a sandwich at lunch for my tea. I can scoff sandwiches quite quickly.

6.45 came, and went. No helper.

50.nope

6.55. Uh oh. I decided to go out myself and try to eat on my own. I left a message about where I had gone with my flatmates, and headed, sandwich in hand, for the canteen.

Robert was already there, waiting. “I was getting worried” he said. I explained my predicament, and he very kindly offered to help me eat. Imagine it: one’s writing lecturer feeding you a ham and tomato buttie! It was almost surreal. I felt rather strange, and guilty.

The rest of the evening didn’t go too badly. The stairs in the pub which everyone except myself was worried about weren’t a problem. The poetry itself was first rate, and the student they had asked to introduce the thing did a fine job. There were many quite serious, deep poems – I felt like crying at one stage – but these were well balanced by comic poems. My own attempts were read by a mature student called John, and I think they were well received.

So, apart from the disaster at the beginning, and scaring tutors by going down the stairs on my arse, the evening went well. And, given my experience with something called a Diesel on Wednesday, I kept to the coke!

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I just found the following on an american site;

[quote]Mom and Claire’s brother watched the September 11th videos showing on tv. It is amazing how it affects you all over again, like maybe they just forgot how really bad it was… mom teared up and could hardly talk… it was just horrible for everyone. Prayers go out for those people… the victims and the survivors of this awful tragedy.[/quote] they show repeats of 9/11 on tv in the us. why? to stir up feelings? supprt for bush’s war. is this the state of american democracy? how very, very underhand.

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This morning, before esther arrived, I was hanging around th net and I came across this short film. It’s a parody of michael moore’s work, and draws a parelell between 9/11 and…wait for t…the battle of helm’s deep. even though it’s clearly pro-war and probably pro-bush, I cant help but love this film. I was amused to see their version of moore claiming that there was no link between sauron and saruman, and that Mordor was, in fact, a peace-loving nation.