Updates

Sorry for the lack of blogs lately. I'm not best pleased with my blog at the moment... Reading over some of my more recent ones (I always seem to be doing that... how desperate am I) I've noticed there to be a distinct lack of continuity to them. I know there's nothing exactly wrong with a lack of continuity; as with everyone, the only constant factor in the events of my life is me being in them. But what bothers me is that I seem to construct settings in my blog whereby follow-ups are promised or would be necessary to complete the 'story' of a particular blog and I never deliver. I suppose its not a big deal because a) nobody reads this and b) if I meticulously followed up every subplot of my life alluded to here for the sake of it, I'd probably be writing because I felt some obligation to do so and not because I had anything interesting to say, and I'd probably lose interest in writing them altogether if I did that. But I still think I should answer a few things, just to finish the stories.

Remember Cian McLoughlin the artist guy? He eventually did turn up at school. He gave a very interesting talk about his work and what gives him inspiration. His commitment to his work astounded me, he said he usually paints 8 hours a day. If anything it put me off a career in art because I don't think I have rigour and the passion necessary to do it well. And the choir thing? I got my CD! I am very pleased with it, the sound is good, but most of all I love just having it, being able to put it in a CD player and think 'I wrote that'. It's pretty cool, but I can't play it too often because it's not good enough to warrant playing over and over without it getting a tad annoying.

Did I even mention Midterm was coming up? That's another thing I seem to leave out of my blog a lot, the lead up to things that seem like they deserve a lead up. Well at this stage it's almost come and gone: we're back to the grind on Monday (mock French oral on Wednesday, fuck ye...). I'll fill you in on what I've been up to. Though that's not very much, as you'll see.

I jetted off to the beautiful city of Rome for five days with my Latin class, a group of people none of whom I have any problem with, which considering how judgmental I am is quite something. That's not 'not very much', I hear you pout, quite jealous that I was in Rome and you were at home wasting your life away in the grey landfill site that is this city. Be patient... the story's not finished yet.

So we arrived in Rome on Monday at about 9am, having got up at a disgusting hour of the morning to catch our typically school tour 'first plane out of the airport' flight. Before our flight had landed I knew I wasn't feeling too hot. Get some panadol, I thought. So I looked for shops in the airport at Rome, asked around everyone. I only got any after we had reached our hotel (3 hours after landing). So I had that. Nothing. Had some more later. Seemed to be getting worse.

By the time we were halfway through our tour of the colosseum I was shivering, feverous, barely able to stand up because my headache was so bad, all my energy was sapped. I was so bad I had to retire to the hotel, curl up in the dark and drink water all day while the others continued with the tour. At night I didn't sleep at all, and I must not have drank enough water through the day because I was having delusions about some sort of cloning factory in the room, the blue light by the door was part of some machine and the pictures on the walls were kind of boxes stationary on a conveyer belt. Sounds lovely and trippy, but really it was horrible, the night seemed endless. By morning I was even worse, and I ended up dragging my sorry ass down to reception after the guys were gone off for the day to ask them to summon a doctor. He came; it turned out I had really bad strepthroat, whatever that is. All I know is it's hell.

I won't bore you with more details. Spent the next 2 days imprisoned in the hotel room, the only notable points of that time being when I kept vommiting up the contents of my stomach - water, and antibiotics - in reaction to my drugs, the battle with the doctor to convince him to prescribe me something else, his extortionate fees, and the hotel maid coming into my room and not realising I was there for a full minute or two, then running off when she realised.

There was a slight consolation on the final day as I was well enough to go outside again, though my symptoms were all still threatening me. Despite them I had a reasonably pleasant day seeing Pompeii (actually very, very impressive). But of course, now that I was starting to get better it was time to go back home, though not before a 12 hour wait in the airport on account of delays. You go Ryanair.

So now I'm back. Upcoming news will include mocks, orals, music practicals, and possibly the end of the world.