Thanks to Naomi for linking her weblog to mine, and for having a guestbook facility on her site (which I have proceeded to nick and put on mine). She's Evil Bilbo. I've also reorganised the sidebar, including a list of other weblogs. Anyone else wants their blog linked, give me a shout. Mish now possesses two links, one to the main Students Unzipped site, and another direct to her diary page. Also included are George, Kate and Craig, other friends from the Pulsar end of campus. Be warned, headfucking is fairly common on Craig's blog, The Lattice.

Okay, imagine you're driving. The vehicle behind you is an ambulance with flashing blue lights and wailing siren. The only road leading to the casualty department is ahead of you. What do you do?

Okay, picture this. There is a bus pulled in on the left, at a bus stop. There is solid oncoming traffic on the right. There is a narrow channel down which a single vehicle can travel. You are driving a car towards this bus, preparing to pull out into this empty channel. Behind you is an ambulance with flashing lights and wailing siren. This road is the only one leading to the hospital casualty department.

Do you, a) Pull in behind the stationary bus, which is already signalling to pull away from the kerb, but is waiting for the ambulance to overtake,

or b) Slow down, uncertain, then hesitantly pull out into the channel at the last minute, forcing the ambulance to slow down. It takes you several seconds to accelerate uphill in your clapped out shitheap of a car to get past the bus, in which time the ambulance could have been through that gap and halfway to the casualty department by now.

Guess which the driver I saw tonight chose. Wanker.

I mean, come on! An ambulance with sirens screaming, heading towards the casualty department? Obviously, there's someone in the back who is in the process of dying, in urgent need of life-saving medical treatment. Sod it, this driver thinks, I'm not getting stuck behind a bus. Let's decrease the patient's chances of survival a little bit, to shave a few seconds off my journey. Who cares if the guy having a coronary in the ambulance dies?

What a scumfuck!

Turns out one of my friends, Emilie, has looked at this page. She was nice and supportive about the loneliness pang I had a few days ago.

I forgot to mention to her that the reason I had the loneliness pang in the first place was because I'd been looking through all my old MSN Messenger conversations and I found my earliest conversations with her. This was just before the two of us started a short but memorable (for me at least) relationship.

One of the few periods in my life when I've actually been happy. Okay, so it didn't last long, and I felt more for her than she did for me, but it was great while it lasted. The best thing is, we're still very good friends. Thanks, Em. :-)

That's what got me feeling lonely. Not Emilie in particular, but just that feeling of closeness that we shared. I've got lots of friends who mean just as much to me as Emilie does today, but... It's hard to explain, but I'm sure you know what I mean. When you're spending so much time with someone, sharing all those little confidences that you wouldn't normally share with anyone, it's... damn this language...

Sod it, most people have been in that kind of place, they'll know what I mean. I don't mean love, if that's what you're thinking. It's closeness, fondness, caring, without the intensity of love. Somewhere beyond just normal friendship, yet not quite as far as actually being in love. Basically, it's what anyone who's been in a relationship that was good on an emotional level, yet wasn't love-oriented, feels.

Christ, if Emilie's reading this now, I've probably terrified her. Sorry, Em, I'm thinking aloud, trying to articulate feelings in a language that wasn't designed for it and has been too corrupted by overuse to successfully convey emotion without it sounding cliched or fake.


On a lighter note, my parents posted me my disk back, so I now possess the half-written Imperium RPG and my Hogshead proposal, ready to be rewritten for whoever next gets the rights to WFRP. I'm wondering about releasing one or both of them to members of LURPS (Lancaster University RolePlaying Society) for feedback, use and beta-testing, as appropriate.

On the downside, today I also received the hardcopy of the Hogshead proposal, sent back by Hogshead when they closed up shop. The worst thing was, they included a cover sheet, saying:

"I am afraid that we will not be able to commission or publish your book. This is not because we didn't like it - the proposals we don't like get rejected immediately - but rather because Hogshead Publishing has terminated its licence to publish Warhammer FRP, and is leaving the hobby-games business. This decision has been in the works for more than a year, which is one of the reasons we've sat on your submission for so long.

Therefore we are returning your proposal. If another company acquires the rights to the game, I wish you the best of luck in placing your ideas with them."

I can take rejection. It's just a bit galling that this proposal might actually have gotten somewhere, and now I'm relying entirely on Games Workshop keeping WFRP alive, in order to make this book a reality. >:-(

On the bright side, my parents enclosed a cheque for £50 with the disk. Seems like I won't have to start sucking pebbles for nutrients. I can now afford to buy food.

Hmm, things are getting interesting on the academic front.

I've confirmed my belief that my Linguistics 206 (Language Practices & Social Change) essay is due in after the holidays, giving me a bit of breathing space. However, I've missed my deadline for the Ling 201 (Linguistic Methodology) draft dissertation proposal, so I'm going to try and get that sorted tomorrow.

How the hell do you write a dissertation proposal?

Having successfully missed about two thirds of my seminars this term, as well as a significant number of lectures, (I've been really stressed, okay?) I've also not even got the essay question for my Ling 204 (Analysing Language In Use), so I've emailed the guy behind the course and pleaded stupidity with him so he'll send me a copy. I'm on campus tomorrow morning anyway, so I'll try and get a hard copy from the department then. This essay's due in at the end of next week, so I better get started on it.

Jesus, I'll be glad when this term's over.

Off to see Lancaster University Theatre Group's production of Midsummer Night's Dream on Wednesday. Not a major piece of news, I know, but it could be a seed for one. Probably not, but bear with me on this.

Myk, on Students Unzipped (see left), just posted today's debate (his attempt at getting more people to comment on his diary): Is fox hunting a natural thing because foxes hunt too?

I thought I'd reproduce my comment here, for the enjoyment of anyone who ever actually visits this site. So far I've had one person visit that I know of (Mish - she still hasn't linked me from her website, like she promised!).

Anyway, my comment:

Hunt foxes because they hunt? What animal-killing psycho came up with that one?

By that logic, it's perfectly justified for us to load up with the biggest, high-calibre, military-grade weaponry we can find on the black market and camp out in fields, waiting to pop a few shots off at the wankers in red.

A simple scoring system:

10 points for every urban-based accountant or lawyer. This only applies if they're involved in the hunt, sorry.

15 points for country dwellers keeping traditions alive.

20 points for anyone trying to be incredibly English. This is doubled if they proceed to shout 'Tallyho!' or any such inane, antiquated utterances shortly before you blow the mother away.

25 points for anyone claiming to be looking after jobs in rural Britain (if they are also an urban-based lawyer or accountant, this is doubled).

30 points for aristocratic inbreeds with no chins, simply because killing off the weak assists natural selection.

A bonus of 100 points for any of the above who also read the Daily Mail because it's 'the only newspaper that tells it as it is'. These people have to be eliminated for the advancement of British society and the prevention of cultural stagnation.

There's a bonus of 50 points for every twat with a trumpet that you pop off, plus you get to mount the head above your fireplace to brag to your friends about.

I'll see you in the countryside...