Ooo. My results were posted to me today and I've failed a module!!!

How awful! I've never got below 62% in an assessment anywhere at any university before. Now I've got a big fat ZERO in an assessment!!!

How awful, must cleanse.

One module has four equally weighted components and I've failed just one of these components. We had to analysis some numbers and submit the statistical write up. This i did, but unbeknown to me, we had to submit the statistical output as well. (the computer program we use churns out pages and pages of statistical output and this, apparently, needed to be submitted with the assessment.)

It's such a waste of paper! and i have no recollection of the assessment question saying there needed to be output.

I'm appealing the decision but doubt it'll go through.

Anyway, this is somewhat reassuring. Even if i had the course fees i couldn't continue with the course so it's my stupidity, and not poverty, that's preventing my progression.

I have a load of gmail invites to get rid of. Give me an email on ni><ond∑a@hotmail.com if you want one.

(substitute the >< for an x and the ∑ for an e )

Those that are following the story will be pleased to hear that today I gave myself a facial. It's good to see my prostate is still up to such mean feats.

In other news, I watched the rugby on Saturday and developed a total crush on Ben Cohen. He's so lovely:



The picture in the bottom right is an inversed image of his crotch. I think there's something inorganic in his crotch but i still love him

I'm rich!

I've just noticed the text ads at the top of this blog. They're AWFUL!

BPD Recovery Is Possible
Borderline and Beyond: Hope for BPD Self-Help Program-Laura Paxton,

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Blogger has just lost a rather dramatic post about my recent fight with a homophobic gentleman. I'm not sure where it's gone but I can't be arsed to rewrite it at the moment. I'll post it up tomorrow or Wednesday. Instead I'll post about masturbation.

A few weeks ago I confessed to a Prozac addiction. This confession has earned me free drinks, a new harddrive and the write off of a £20 debt. Hopefully further confessions will yield more gifts of sympathy, so here goes:

Prozac has made me anorgasmic! I still get 'the urge' but no matter how hard and for how long I wank, I just can't cum. Even the standard masturbatory fantasy involving a rugby team that i've been using since the age of sixteen doesn't work any more.

It's like when you want to sneeze but can't. You feel the sneeze coming on and you want to sneeze but then the urge to sneeze just goes and you feel really frustrated. It's like that, except worse and it's only the ability to orgasm that has been affected so i'm constantly horny with no way of... relieving myself.

One of the few enjoyable things about unemployment is chronic masturbation and self-pity, now I can't do either.

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Anyway, you may detect that i'm a bit more cheery today. ALthough I don't have a hateful clerical job yet, my recent depression is turning back into the usual life-is-a-lie-but-i'll-carry-on-with-it-anyway, which is a good thing. Last night I had a dream in which Margaret Thatcher died so things are getting much better. I've also been getting ready for the return of popdizzy to its own domainname. I've also been doing a few web-based projects. One is a 'gay' website thing that's coming along quite well. I hope y'all like it. I've also been very artisic and experimenting with acrylic paints. Does anyone know how to make a living at being an artist?

Blang.

I’ve been having some rather lucid and unsettling dreams of late. Prior to last week I hadn’t had a nightmare in years, now I seem to have one most evenings. I quite like nightmares, not because I take pleasure in seeing my own death, but because I like waking up and realising they’re not real.

So let us begin with last night’s dream. I was in a PE lesson swimming in the sea. There were hundreds of people in the sea with me but I could only recognise a few of them- Amanda was there, so too was the cunt who got my teaching assistant job, and a few people from school. It was some kind of race and I started to lag behind. The PE teacher kept saying “hurry up, hurry up!” but I couldn’t keep up with them. It was as if something was slowing me down.

The pack of swimmers eventually swam so far ahead of me that I couldn’t see them and I was left alone in the dark water. There was nothing to swim towards- there was no shoreline and no herd of swimmers to follow. There didn’t seem much point in carrying on swimming so I decided to give up and let myself sink to the bottom of the sea.

I pictured my funeral as I drowned. I had a blue coffin and the church was virtually empty. A vicar was standing at a lectern but he couldn’t think of anything to say about me so he just stood in silence.

Then I woke up from my dream gasping for air.

Psychoanalyse that, or rather don't.

Hurray... it's all over. I decided that i'll sit my remaining module in septermber. i don't need to go to any additional lectures, I just need to submit the work some time in September. I'll only get 50% for the assignment but i'll still be on course for a good grade overall due to last semester's grades.

uck! so i'm now unemployed. I'm working part-time and spending my remaining time applying for jobs. I do hate being unbusy so if anyone has any pointless projects they want my help with (for free, of course) now would be the time to make an approach. I'm a goddess in Perl, Python and PHP. Ok in VB and action script (data-driven flash is my specialty, passable skills in Director). Terrible at CSS/HTML.

I really hated my course. I really hated the call centre. In fact, the majority of the past two years has been rather awful. I hope something less hateful comes along soon.

Right- time for a short and much needed holiday to the exotic land of Birmingham.