craiging619
 | 01:12 am - Rage Against The Mapping
All the colours of the world should be
Loving each other unconditionally I guess people will finally stop doubting the power of Facebook now. If only more people had joined me in supporting the good folks at 'I couldn't give a flying f**k about what you're up to on Farmville'. 
"And I won't milk what you tell me"
With equal amounts of relief, euphoria, fatigue and disbelief, I concluded Part I of the Course From Hell on Friday. Now only Part II and the summer-long Thesis remain before my lifelong release from the grip/sanctuary of education. I'd like to apologise to everyone who was at 12 Hour Cheesy and had to witness my descent into apparent madness, and can only hope that I never again have to be bundled into a taxi to travel 3/4 of a mile screaming "I KNOW WHERE I LIVE! IT'S RIGHT THEN LEFT THEN RIGHT THEN LEFT THEN RIGHT THEN LEFT!" The only excuse I can muster is that the Course From Hell (and an unfortunate overlapping period where I thought someone from work was dead, even though they weren't) had left me more stressed out than I had previously believed was possible, and the only way I could envisage sufficiently 'de-stressing' was to get paralytic in a nightclub. It's naivety at best and wreckless stupidity at worst, and I sincerely hope that when exams really DO end forever, on April 30th, I have enough wherewithal to negotiate a safe route home. 
Santa Claus: Knows all the short-cuts
Part I of The Course From Hell, as mentioned above, was an absolute bloody nightmare. Never in my life have I been pushed so close to the limit by such innocuous things as Moodle submissions and 1-Credit maths tests. The situation was, admittedly, not helped by my continuing employment at Somerfield, but with £5441 of rent to pay, quitting my job would be as feasible as Tiger Woods winning Sports Personality of the Year. In any event, from September 29th to December 18th we had a twelve-week block of continuous assessment with ZERO (0) breaks, and if anyone was in any doubt that the tutors are trying to (their words) 'squeeze a three-year course into seven months', it was confirmed in late October when we were given 6 assignments to complete in a two week stretch, including in no particular order (this sounds like an X Factor eviction now) a 3,000 word essay, two 2,000 word reports and two class tests. If Honours Geography was the Premier League campaign of University, as I alluded to in a previous Blog, then the MSc in Geospatial and Mapping Sciences is less like the Champions League outing and more like a never-ending Europa League loop, where I have to go as Celtic.
It got to the stage in October where I would happily have quit and retreated to Somerfield full-time, were I not tied into a 12-month savings-busting contract with my Halls of Residence. As November unfolded, it reached the point where a group of us would sit in the 105 basement lab every night, looking like death warmed up, moaning about our 3/6/8/10 (delete where applicable) ongoing assignments, before Aldo would play clips from The Onion and Craig would "go on the Pars forum" (a pro-Dunfermline Athletic message board). Hell, Marty was even agreeing with me that the tutors were to blame for this unfolding catastrophe of a course, before Exam Season was shortened to one solitary week to allow us to complete all our flipping coursework (oh, how nice of you). But somehow, and I have no earthly idea how, we just about seemed to pull it together, and when we all got good marks for the Advanced GIS course I started to believe that the corner had been turned. Now with Exam Season over, it appears that I should be able to pick a decent grade out of the wreckage of the last three months - possibly even an A, although it would be moronic to build my hopes up at this early stage. 
Can England win the World Cup? It's ours for the taking!
Random annoyances of the week: The number of bins (13) in Room 102 of the Geography Postgrad basement. I feel like rounding half of them up and moving them to a place that could actually do with them, like the checkouts at Somerfield. Also, people walking around drunk in the afternoon, including me. The depressing state of Scottish football this season. The number of socks I seem to lose in the wash at Maclay (leaving me to revert to the old 'spare sock' formula that blights so many households on a daily basis). Glasgow's inexplicable drainage problems: Prestwick never seemed to have such issues in 18 full years, rather oddly. The number of women I like beginning with 'S' (it's getting ridiculous now). Singers going on the X Factor, then complaining that they don't like the X Factor. And people making genuinely racist statements when they should know better, then either laughing about it or saying that 'well, it's true'. Which means that it's probably not and their views are 50 years out of date.
Random geniusness of the week: The Dark Mars Bars that were briefly on sale at the QMU. The BBC's terrific live text commentary of sporting events, which combines the right blend of comedy and drama without needing to be (too) offensive, a rare gift these days. Rachel Adejeji's cover of With Or Without You on one of her weekly bottom-two X Factor performances (how she got voted out so early is beyond me). Co-Op's orange flavoured Dark Chocolate Thins (thank you for taking over Somerfield). The Wes Brown lookalike living in my block at Maclay. And the brilliant timing of Somerfield's Christmas night out (December 5th), which was so hilariously premature that it actually allowed me to sober up, finish three projects, complete the entire Exam Season then have ANOTHER festive soiree at Cheesy. Just a pity I can only remember 1.25 of them, combined. 
Wes Brown: Can afford Maclay rent with Old Trafford wages
I'll get round to the 2009 Review in the next week, then I might do something about the past decade. It may not be applicable for someone of my age to do a review of the Noughties, as I was still a child in 2000 and, thus, viewed the world through a kaleidescope of naivety, centred mainly on the world of wrestling, geeky quirks and women I didn't really know or understand. Thank goodness things have changed. I know the women now. 
Lita: Not a local of Prestwick
But for now, I'll leave you with this brief thought. When you think you've reached a low ebb (the Course From Hell), when you feel like your world is crashing down around you (not the Course From Hell), when you think all hope is gone and you have nowhere left to turn, just remember that there's always someone on hand to turn the Lottery machine into Welsh, reminding you that it's all a load of nonsense really.
Merry Christmas everyone. One day
One day
We'll forget this all one day...
Current Location: Maclay Halls, Glasgow
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/hopeful.gif) relieved
Current Music: Lady Gaga - Bad Romance.
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