Picture Perfect

I have successfully explored my local area, beyond my 3 metres of personal space (yes, that's quite a lot of personal space. But I'm a big guy, I need it). The reason why people generally do not explore the local area, is because it's situated closely to Arab residences. I, however, always seem to end up in Arab places, so I thought "what the hell?" and went for it.

I live in a most beautiful area. I have discovered parts of the city I never knew could exist. Beautiful, beautiful parks abound here. Lovely buildings, spacious rooms. brilliance. Boulivards, grass, trees....!

Standing on a high point about 10 minutes away from what I call Walk, I spied a lovely area I call "Paradise Park." It was on the base of another mountain, and my thoughts were "Damn. I MUST visit that park." So, off I went, to treck down mountains and through valleys, then back up mountains again (quite literally). It took me 2 hours. But it was well worth the effort. I have no intention of sharing my discovery with anyone. They were too lazy to accompany me, so they shall not benefit from my findings. It's the perfect place to bring a girl to, and just relax. Look at the sky, look at nature. I simply cannot relate it's beauty, but it is nothing I have ever experienced in my life. Perhaps it's just the sun (for the sun does abound here, even now, despite the fact it's almost December), but I love it.

Back to real affairs.
I have finished my personal statement for university (YES!). It's going to be archaeology in UCL. Failing that, York.

And now for my weekly suicide, there are girls whom abound.
For those of you who think "Sheesh. What a hormonal, sad, stupid guy" and general thoughts of this nature. But not. This is not me.

I am not, I assure my readership, looking for a simple, short fling. I only ever look for long term relationships, though I've had 0 (due largely to my own decision not to establish relationships during my high-school career. It was hard). In short, I'm soon looking to start dating for marriage. Meaning, anyone who I date, could possibly end up (unfortunately for her) marrying me, if she were remotely willing to do so :p

Anyway. It has been decided in the college that I am, in fact, Muslim, due to the amounts of time I end up in Arab-held territories.
I was told where I went today was also Arab held. Sure, I saw a few Arabs, but I don't think it was an Arab area. I should know, I've been to a few :p

There isn't much to say right now. I'm just meeting a few friends in the Central Bus Station now, and that will be that.

Until next time, folks.

Today was a weird day.
Most days are generally weird, but this day was by far more weird.

Before I explain what I'm talking about, I should, perhaps, explain to any new readers that I am, in fact, insane. It's true. Therefore, brace yourselves for the story which is about to be related. Or move away slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements or noises. Either one.


I thought it was going to be a great day today. I don't know why. I guess it was just one of those moments of sheer insanity, when one thinks "hey, life is great. Today is going to be a good day afterall."
Ha. How deluded is the optimist?
The pessimist thinks everyone's going to die, and that's not right either.
Me, I'm a realist. I don't generally think the day's going to be great, but neither do I feel I will die. I'm more in the middle. Maybe I'll be tortured slowly and die tomorrow. Such is the thoughts of a realist.

Anyway. Back to this great day.

I went to the Jerusalem Archaological Park yesterday, and today. When I go to these places, I don't know what I'm going to find, I just have a name and address, and sometimes even a phone number. No description about what the place is. I just pulled a whole load of names out the yellowpages, and intend to visit them all before the end of this year.
The JAC happened to be a place which preserved parts of Jerusalem's Old City, which dates from the time of King Herod, and in some areas even before that (to the time of King Solomon himself). It is literally a part of Jerusalem with a museam wall around it , a ticket box at the front, and a guy going "ok, you have to pay to go to this part of the Old City." Of course, it's totally preserved. Else, just untouched from those thousands of years.

The part of Jerusalem which is so preserved is the part just before the Temple Mount. You know the Al-Aqsa mosque? That great big dome? Not the gold (actually, it's copper) one. The other one. No? Ok. But I was there. Not in the mosque. Just on the other side of the wall of it. It was actually quite scary. My first thought was: "am I going to be shot?" And that wasn't the first time I had that thought today (damn, perhaps I am a pessimist). I saw the most popular route to get to/out of the temple, and several other things of interest only to historians, archaeologists, or Jews. The rest of you probably don't care. But it was basically the ruins of Jerusalem. Anyway. There were many interesting things there which I won't bore you with.

On my way out (and after conversing with random people hanging about in the street - hey, they appraoched me) I hailed a cab. This is the normal thing to do. The cab told me "ani lo rotse lelechet m'cfar zeh, zeh chaval-al-hazman," which translates literally as: I no want to go from village that, that's shame upon the time (I don't want to take that village-route, it's a waste of time).

What that means, of course, is that the taxi driver refused to go to my place of residence via the normal, accepted route. Oh no. He chose to go the "quick way." Of course, I was not on the meter here, so time was of no issue to me. We agreed a flat rate. The "quick way" it transpired, was straight through an Arab village. Yes, how nice. What an idiot. I really thought that was the end for me. I was EXPECTING to be shot. I got many odd looks, and i think one kid attempted to stop the cab, by stepping out suddenly in the middle of the road. The cabby's driving there took a turn for the worse. Did he stop? No. Not really. I felt sort of safe with the knowledge that he wasn't stopping in the middle of this hostile (to me) place. Then, just my luck, we get stuck behind a bus. YOU STUPID TAXI MAN! WE COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!

All the while I was saying "is this dangerous?" and he was speeding all over the place saying "no, not at all, not dangerous at all." A blind man with a blind fold could tell he was lying through his teeth.

But I got to my destination alive. Thank God. Seriously.
To put it into perspective, imagine it's the first world war. You live in England. You're walking about in London, and suddenly, the scenery changes. Nothing is written in English. People do not speak or understand English in this place. Only German is spoken here. Everyone is wearing German uniforms, and all shop signs are in German. The place looks German.

Yes, you walk amongst your enemy in your own country here.

To top it all off, when I sat down on the chair here, it was far away from the desk. Yes, a shame, isn't it? So, like all normal people, I started to pull the chair towards the desk. What actually happened was the seat lifted off the chair-frame, and I managed to sit down on the chair again, with my finger between the metal chair frame and the seat base thing, resulting in a bleeding, and extremely painful finger. I'm actually typing this with one less finger than I usually have. Which is a pain. Quite literally too.

Anything funny happen today? Yesterday? Day before? No. Not at all. Sorry. All's quiet in Jerusalem.
I shall stop boring you. take care, all.

I was excited to find that that I had 12 new comments, and I was even more excited to learn that the first few were from very nice people. Nice people? Pah! How wrong I was. Look at all the abuse, piled up one after the other, on my very own space of cyberworld.

Ok, insult me. But to have a running debate about me? This is the mark of meany-ness. The shock was too much for me. It hit me like a metal glove. Filled with other bits of assorted metal. It hurt. Oh, it hurt so.

Not much is new here, as all those who e-mailed me know. All one of you. Pah. Everyone else: be ashamed. Very, very ashamed.

There are no new stories to tell, although I feel there will probably be one taking place later tonight, which will probably go up next week, for your general amusement, and to remind me not to be so stupid again. Lessons in this area will not be learned, and shall be forgotten within 30 seconds. Or until the next pretty girl walks by.

Bec's comment not to talk to any Americans? I know this is the right thing to do, yet my brain rejects this due to the reason of liking the accent. And the fact that they're all very pretty.

Anyway. I'm glad my life is keeping you amused. Take care, all. For there is nothing left to say, except to say:

until next time.

Israel. The never ending story of sleep deprivation, and being ripped-off by taxi drivers.

So today I paid almost double to this taxi driver. We agreed upon the price, and he upped it as I got out. Usually I wouldn't stand for this nonsense, but alas, I had only a single bill upon me. The price should have been 40 local currency. I agreed 50 local currency. He charged me 65 local currency, then tried to screw me out of a further 5, local currency, by not giving me the proper change. The denomination bill I had on me was 100. Therefore, he essentially took whatever he wished from me.

He was, I noticed, an Arab driver. Therefore, it was to be expected. Why did I get in the cab with an Arab driver? I never noticed he didn't have the identification sign up. A mistake which won't be repeated.

Something just took place. Something sad, and terrible. A pretty girl sat down next to me (she just left) and so, I said to her, as naturally as could be "mind if we could talk? I'm doing university stuff, and would be glad of the company." It didn't sound too bad in my head. But when it came out...ouch. Possibly because it didn't come out as perfectly as the above. Nor as entirely in the above. In fact, it was more like "mind if we talk, miss?"

For some reason, I have the habit of calling every woman "miss." Don't ask. It just comes out. I can't help it. Her response was "whaaaat?" She was American. Uh oh. Many Americans don't understand my accent. Oh well. After a lot of blushing I managed to communicate somehow (after 3 attempts) to indicate that I just wanted to talk.

What the hell is wrong with the world?! All I wanted was to say "how are you?" and I get a lot of blushing and embarressment my way....then again, what's wrong with me...? *gasp*

I couldn't smile at the time, though I knew it would be the correct thing to do, to sit back and laugh. Even now I feel like laughing at myself, but hey. People would think I'm weird.
It was painful. It was like watching a small fluffy animal squirming to it's death, cause of said death being squished by an invisible hand.

Anyway, the sole good point of the conversation was that I correctly guessed what type of American accent she had. New York, Flatbush. Impressive for an Englishman. It wasn't a total guess, but a true guess based on the accent. I can recognise a Queens and Flatbush accent on girls, and a Brooklyn accent on guys. But not vice versa.

Anyway, I have very little time left on this card (7 minutes) and must go elsewhere. Take care, all!

Until next time, when I shall bring you new weird and highly embasressing escapades which takes place in the internet cafe. Bye, kids! And remember....don't talk to strange American girls. Ever. Trust me. It's just not worth it. (Of course, I'm off to talk to some more...and retreat hastily yet again, probably).

Here's a surprise for you all. A post here.


I'm in the Central Station in Jerusalem, checking out my university stuff. Personal statements, etc. Very boring. Very time consuming. Very necessary.

The other day I was here, alone (I was meeting up with other friends later) when I noticed this very cute girl on my right. She was wearing all black clothes, her tights had holes in them, and she was wearing black nail extensions/polish, with black makeup all over the place. She was a goth. She was Jewish. She was American. She was in Israel.

A Jewish, American goth in Israel.
Sounds almost like a joke. But it's all true. And to the surprise of my friends, I thought she was cute. I find it odd that I should be attracted to such a personage, I must admit. Her face has the same radiance as the moon, though I suspect that may be partly due to make-up used. But she has a round face like the moon too, and I'll be darned if make-up can do that these days.

I met some missionaries here the other day too. They didn't want me to know they were missionaries, but I got it out of them in the end. I suppose they do not believe what they're doing is totally morally correct, otherwise they'd have no inhibitions about their work. They wanted to visit the land, and I suspect the cheapest way was to sign up with Evangelic Christianity, who book their flights, and arrange places for them to stay, on condition they do some "teaching" work. I know for a fact they do "teaching" work. I asked if they "reach out to chrisitian youth" but they said no, "another field." That kind of confirmed any suspicions I had about them then and there.

Anyway. Back to this Jewish gothic girl.
As I said, she's cute. I spoke to her, though she seemed wary of me. I did get her and her friend to laugh though, so that's good. Her friend stuck me as a little stoopy. She thought "previously" was an advanced word. Her gothic friend had a far superious vernacular to her, and she said as much. They were from Indiana. Which is strange, as there is no Jewish community there. There's a teeny-tiny one, according to what they told me.

A mid-western, Jewish, American Goth in Israel. Now I've seen it all.

I didn't get her number. I said "I'll see you guys around some time" and fled the scene, for reasons unknown even to myself. It seemed like a good reason at the time. I think it had something to do with my friends, and the fact that they were waiting for me.
I have reason to suspect that the goth has a boyfriend. Her laptop (I was in an internet cafe, same place I am now, in fact, doing the same thing I was doing then) had a background with the words "I love..." with some name which could be either a guy or a girl.

She's either straight with a boyfriend, lesbian, or just has a very close girly friend. Wow. a gay jewish american goth from mid-western america, in israel.
Now I HAVE seen everything.

Anyway, If i ever see her again, I fully intend to get her number, as I should have done in the first place.
Ah, well.


I won't make the same mistake again, mark my words.
I wonder what my parents would say......

...

....

No, they wouldn't say anything.
Their mouths would be open in disbelief.
My parents haven't really approved anything I've done on my own intiative recently. I took martial arts lessons, and they said it was a passing phase (It was, as I could no longer afford the lessons after about a month). I wanted to get a musical instrument, and they said I should rent it, not buy it, for it would be a passing phase. Well, I rented it. I had to give it back ages ago, and I never got a teacher for it, even though I practised string movements weekly (hey, I was busy back then). I want to do archaeology ("are you sure you like it?") in York uni ("York? Really?"). Now to top it all off, I need to introduce them to a Jewish mid-western American goth who I met in Israel.

At the moment, I'm looking only for serious relationships, which at this age, you'd think wasn't possible. But, different cultures have different ways, and sure enough, there's a whole host of people here looking for serious relationships at my age. There are also a wholse host of people who are not looking for a serious relationship, and it's going to be hard to sort them out from the other. Ah, well.

Oh. Of course, all this brings us back to the *other girl* - the one I liked a few weeks ago. She still hasn't replied to my e-mail. Of course, she's ignoring me. I spoke to her yesterday (Friday) for about 3 seconds, and she couldn't wait to get me off the phone. What gave it away was "hold on, I'll get my mother for you" after I said the word "hi."

Of course, I'm not letting this get in my way, and I'm moving on, forwards and on!
Take care. I'll post back later, perhaps. It's just such a bother for me to get here, I may not actually get here, If you know what I mean.

Bye!

No, you most certainly did not expect me to update this blog, even though i'm not here, in England.

Ahh, well. Technologically advanced BlogSpirit has allowed me to make this post, and make it appear on my blog whensoever I feel like.



I have a hobby. Believe it or not, I do.
It's not something I'd include on "your hobbies" lists which appear in my inbox every so often. No, it's not indecent. I know exactly what you're thinking, sickos! And if you're not thinking about what I think you're thinking about, you're either lying, too innocent. If you're lying, I already knew that. If you're too innocent, stick with this blog and maybe we can put a few hairs on your chest. IF you're a female and are alarmed at this prospect, continue reading anyway. You could always wax it off.

That hobby is as follows:
I go to racist sites. I read everything which is on there. I then come back out of racist site.
The point of this is "know thy enemy" - the way I like to function is to take an "enemy" philosophy, and understand all it's arguments and ramifications - to not only step inside the mind of the proponents, but to make their argument mine: to be able to argue for their racist cause, to be able to turn the arguments inside out, backwards and upside down...To own their arguments for myself.

In this way, do I then dismantle the philosophy bit by bit, piece by piece.
It's rather like an electrical componant. Someone can either learn about it, about each and every of it's thousands of pieces, then dismantle it. Someone who does this, no doubt, will be able to reassemble the parts, or use their knowledge for similar electronics, to either build or dismantle.
Or, one could simply undo all the screws, nuts and bolts.

No doubt, the first way is superior to the last. Anyone can do the latter. But it takes a while to do the former, and the knowledge gained there will help in other matters.
I choose to function that way. I choose the former.
***

"Racist sites" are generally messageboards someplace, or sites which are developed by minorities and attract large racist responses from racists. Such as Jewish sites.

I just finished reading a report about a new bridge being built in France. It's a great feat of engineering. Under it, is about 50 posts straight, of anti-semetic comments.
Why? Why this particular post? What have French building projects and anti-semetism got in common? If it was a synagogue website, I could understand. If it was about some Jewish teaching, I'd understand that as well. Similarly, we could all understand the relevance of anti-semetic comments on articles about such things as Jewish schools, institutions, or people. But why French bridges?

Who knows? Who cares? I don't. If you wish to read about the bridge and/or the comments, see the following:
http://www.jewlicious.com/index.php/the-french-did-good (scroll down and to the right considerably, the site's weird that way).

I understand the web page is being retained for the explicit purpose of getting people to see it, and understand anti-semetism is not a thing of the past.


As a Jew myself, I am subject to anti-semetism often - much more often than my parent's generation or older, as I am a teenager, prowling the streets [often] on foot and therefore exposed to the general populance. I've also had the great displeasure of walking through various Nationalistic-type neighbourhoods. Back when I was in school, I was once escorted by two policemen on what should have been a 7 minute walk from school to the subway station. Shortly after, a full-blown police escort were taking students in groups, from school to the subway station. Police were placed on the corners of the roads around my school to ensure nothing terrible happened. Other local school closing times were co-ordinated with our own, under police guidance, to ensure that none of the schools finished at the same time as my own. There was a police presence within my very school walls: every wednesday, there was a unit of 7 policemen/women whose express purpose it was to record any anti-semetic crimes which may have been comitted over the week. Martial arts was introduced to my school as an extra-activity after school, the express purpose being that students shouldn't feel totally unready in any fight they may encounter.


Not really a nice place, eh? Not something which breeds understanding amongst those subject to such things, the result of which is, every Jewish person in the UK is itching to get away. Can you blame any of us? No. I say "us" because I include myself in this catagory. Why should I live in a place where the populance clearly doesn't want me to live? I was just walking home last night when someone yelled anti-semetic remarks at me from their car, in my very own street.


In America, I've been told, one can expect anti-semetism every now and then. But no one expects to be beaten up there. Here, it's a reality. This simply means racism is more extreme in England than in the USA - which, considering the amount of people in the USA, and the fact that there are more Jews there than in the UK, that's a rather big surprise.


When discussing the conditions i've endured with other Jews who lived outside the UK all their lives, their first reaction was "and you still live there?"
Of course, I don't know anything different.

If I walk down the street as a Jew, I expect comments to be hurled at me.
I expect violence. I expect fights, attacks and muggings. I may be totally unprepared for it when it comes, but I know something will happen. I'm used to expecting this.

When I walk the streets in England with my friends, I prefer them to walk infront of me, so I can keep an eye on them. Before we set out in a journey to anywhere beyond our 4-by-4 metre community, something along the lines of "if they start on us, can I count on you to fight?" is passed between us: be it a trip to the cinema, the shopping centres, or taking the London Transport system to anywhere. Everytime we pass a group of two or more people walking in the opposite direction, I'm always prepared for confrontation, simply because there has been confrontation so many times before.

This is the way I've been living for many years, and frankly, I don't want to do so anymore. But let me examine some logical reasons why people seem to hate me so much. There are 6 main possible reasons:

Economic -- "We hate Jews because they possess too much wealth and power."
Chosen People -- "We hate Jews because they arrogantly claim that they are the chosen people."
Scapegoat -- "Jews are a convenient group to single out and blame for our troubles."
Deicide -- "We hate Jews because they killed Jesus."
Outsiders, -- "We hate Jews because they are different than us." (The dislike of the unlike.)
Racial Theory -- "We hate Jews because they are an inferior race."

1) Economic -- "We hate Jews because they possess too much wealth and power."

Utter hog-wash. The infamous Eastern-European and Russian pogroms (organised-attacks) which burned entire villages, and over the years killed millions of Jews, took place at a time when the Jews were dirt poor in those areas. It's not as if they were once wealthy - they were poor, and remained poor, for thousands of years.
Anyone whose seen "Fiddler on the Roof" knows that....!



2) Chosen People -- "We hate Jews because they arrogantly claim that they are the chosen people."

Again, an excuse, not a reason. Christianity has declared it has replaced Judaism, and Islam has claimed it has replaced Christianity, and both stake-claims and profess to be "chosen" - and yet, the world generally tolerates them.
Christians in Israel have no problems travelling about. I pass Armenian Christian priests in Jerusalem many times, and smile and nod to them. Arabs in Europe and America - up until recently - have been able to move about freely, without let or hinderance. Why, therefore, is that the case?

Not only this, but the Jews of Germany from the late 1800's onwards declined to accept the concept of "choseness," renounced it, removed all references to Jerusalem from the Jewish prayer books, and proclaimed Germany as their true land. As we know, the Holocaust began there, and many of not only Germany's Jews, but Europe's Jews (of which I am a remnant) paid with their lives, despite this renunciation of choseness.

Obviously, this reason cannot be the true one.




3) Scapegoat -- "Jews are a convenient group to single out and blame for our troubles."

I'd be willing to go with this one.
But wait. Ilogicality strikes out once again.

For a group which is used as a scapegoat must be already hated. Would people have taken Hitler remotely seriously, or would the Christian populance of the middle ages take their leaders seriously, for that matter, if they said "the woodchoppers are to blame for our woes! It is they who destroy the foundations of our society!"

Instead of blaiming the problems on non-hated groups like woodchoppers, the leaders of the times blamed it on an already hated group, a group which the people wouldn't mind hurting. For I've heard of no Great Woodchopper Massacre of 1190. I have heard of the Clifford's Tower Massacre of Jews, in York in 1190.

Obviously, scapegoat-ism is a result of hatred, not what causes it.



4) Deicide -- "We hate Jews because they killed Jesus."

The Christian Bible says the Romans killed Jesus, though Jews are mentioned as accomplices. Fine. Blame me for the death of Jesus.
But where are the anti-Roman movements? Where are the "we hate the Romans!" banners? Where, in history, have there been organised attempts to kill, maim, wound, and generally cause a great amount of hurt and pain, to the Romans?

Jesus himself said, "Forgive them [i.e., the Jews], for they know not what they do." My RE teacher said so. I even read it. The Second Vatican Council [which I've also read. The one which Mel Gibson rejects...] in 1963 officially exonerated the Jews as the killers of Jesus.

Great. Except it's interesting how neither statement of Christian belief lessened anti-Semitism.


Obviously, this cannot be a reason, but is merely an excuse to persecute an already-hated people.


5) Outsiders, -- "We hate Jews because they are different than us." (The dislike of the unlike.)

Fine. Except such a statement has no historical basis.
Assimilation of Jews takes place in every generation, but none so great as the 19th and 20th century Jews of Germany. Indeed, Hitler cited assimilation as a reason to killing the Jews: that is to say, because the Jews were becoming....not Jewish...they must therefore be dealt with.

Therefore, the opposite must be examined, for this statement cannot possibly be true


6) Racial Theory -- The overriding problem with this theory is that it is self-contradictory: Jews are not a race. Anyone can become a Jew - and members of every race, creed and color in the world have done so at one time or another.


I quote from professor Michael Curtis, of Rutgers University, when I say "the uniqueness of anti-Semitism lies in the fact that no other people in the world have ever been charged simultaneously with alienation from society and with cosmopolitanism, with being capitalistic exploiters and also revolutionary communist advocators. The Jews were accused of having an imperious mentality, at the same time they're a people of the book. They're accused of being militant aggressors, at the same time as being cowardly pacifists. With being a Chosen people, and also having an inferior human nature. With both arrogance and timidity. With both extreme individualism and community adherence. With being guilty of the crucifixion of Jesus and at the same time held to account for the invention of christianity."


All in all, I now know why I am not hated. But I remain unanswered.

I'm leaving. WOO!
Bye bye.

I will be back...in 3 months. I am not going to switzerland. I am going to England. Again. Shame.

Keep the e-mails flowing! Even though I can't send any back! :p

I won't bore you all with the details of my university applications, personal statements, and all the rest of it. I will only say I have chosen archaeology as my first subject of choice, to be studied at York university [relative: YORK? Why do you want to go to York? What's in York? It's further than Leeds! (9th in the country, was 7th last year).

My next subject of choice would be Psychology, again in York university. Failing to get into York, I have another university lined up: LSE (London School of Economics and Politics) which currently holds 6th place in the country. I will be studying Law and Anthropology there. With my luck, York won't accept me, but LSE will. Then I'll be condemned to learning about law for 4 years longer than I actually want to. I'm sure it will be fun. *cough.*
No. Really.



After archaeology, I plan on taking a masters degree, either in York, or Oxbridge (Cambridge/Oxford for the English-university impaired), if I get the grades from university...
After this, I'll go on to the college of law, London branch (as opposed to York branch) and take a conversion course to law. This takes a year. I then study another year, actual law school to become a solicitor/barrister (lawyer/litigator, for the English-legal system impaired). These 2 years of law school are probably the most expensive parts of my education, ever. But this won’t be a problem after I become rich and famous for developing a device which allows you to poke people over the internet, to be developed in all my free time in university.

Though these are my chosen subjects, I have encountered vast hostility from all relatives. I can only roll my eyes in response. Here are some transcripts:

Relative: So, what do you plan to do in university?
Me: I want to do archaeology.
Relative: WHAT? What do you mean, "I want to do archaeology?" What kind of subject is that? Why don't you do something worthwhile, like law, or medicine, or property management? How boring can you get? Archaeology?!
*I roll my eyes at this point*

Me: Mum, I want to do archaeology. And failing that, psychology.
Mum: WHAT? Archaeology? Don't be silly, darling. And psychology? What do you want to do that for? What can you do with that? I don't think you'd be a good psychologist. It's a girls subject anyway. All the girls do it!
Me: *Roll my eyes, thinking to self: if it IS a girl's subject, and all the girls REALLY do it, I may consider making it my first subject of choice, if you know what I mean ;-) :p 
Meh heh heh heh heh.*
Mum: Why don't you just do law?
Me: Because I don't have to.
Mum: Do you really want to go digging?
Me: Err....
Mum: Here, there's a shovel in the garden, you can dig there.
Me: I don't want to dig, thank mum.
Mum: So why are you doing Archaeology?! And why in York? It's far!
Me: It's not that far from Leeds.
Mum: It's further than Leeds.
Me: It's more east of Leeds than north.
Mum: It's a long way!
Me: Mum, I'm currently 3,000 miles away from home, and you won't let me go 50 miles further north than Leeds?!
Mum: That's right.
Me: My future's at stake! :-O
Mum: So do law...

And 'round and 'round we go.
Of course, at the end of the day, I know my parents are behind me, as they want me to do something I enjoy. As to the rest of the relatives, unless i'm doing law [debates rage between my uncles, over whether or not I can argue sufficiently to do litigation], property, or further maths, I'm wasting my time. Even medicine is unacceptable ["It's not a good field. Why do you want to look at diseased people all the time?"].


4 years of archaeology and 2 years of law school. Then another 2 years of apprenticeship/articles (training, for the English-education system impaired).
Then I'll be a qualified lawyer. I'll stay on a bit further in the sector of law for further experience.
After this, duration of which is a few more years, I'll stop practicing law, and hopefully go into business.


I'll be a lawyer with an archaeology master's degree, who has a shop. Nice, eh? I like to think so. That's the beauty of the socialist system here. The beauty of the capitalist system, is that I probably won't actually get a job in law afterwards.



Now, now! I'm not a communist. Nor a socialist. Nor anti-capitalist. I take the best of all philosophies, and mold them together, until it becomes an unrecognisable mish-mash. It's rather like taking lovely chocolate and lovely vanilla, and calling it "chocolate-vanilla" which is very yummy.
Anyway. This mish-mash shall be called "DJ-ism" and this shall be the system imposed upon the world when I take over it. After, of course, foiling the plots and schemes of Arty and Bexy, who also wish to take over the world. But that should take about 6-months of half-hearted work...
Failing this, I shall escape to the moon, where I shall declare myself sole-emperor, king, and ruler, and impose a system of evil tyranny whilst formulating plans to invade with my moon-minions who will accompany me from the earth. If I have no moon minions, I shall just have to do it myself, by hurling rocks from the moon to the earth.

Wow. And to think this is English-university material. What absolute nonsense this is...

Of course I'll be able to defeat Arty and Bexy :p


Anyway. I got a new mp3 player. My bank gave it to me. For free. I had to apply for a student account though. Which suits me fine, as they would have simply upgraded my account automatically when I got to university, and I wouldn't have gotten an mp3 out of it. It's not a bad mp3, but it only has one problem. It doesn't work properly. I'll have to sort that out.




I bought a new computer game yesterday. It also doesn't work. At every stage there's been a problem. After installing it, it wouldn't run. After I got it to run, there wasn't any sound. After I got the sound sorted, the game wouldn't start a "new game." After I got it to start a new game, the game crashed. That's where I'm up to now. The game crashes and I can't play.

Why, oh why, do I always have set backs? I only wanted to play a silly little game for a few hours before I go back to college. But oh no. NO. I can't.
And all I wanted with the MP3 was to be able to listen to music in college. But can I? No.
*waves angry fist at the gods of fate.*

Maybe I should take what bec says into account and lead a life of self-imposed exile and deprivation.
Or I could go to university and take over the world.


Yeah, I'm going with the latter.
--


Dang nabbit! You’ll never guessed what happened. After all this, the internet just stopped working. Just like that. Had I not generally had bad luck as discussed above - that is to say, had I been an optimist - I would not have taken the precautions of saving my post to a word processor, and all would have been lost. See? Having no faith pays off when something goes wrong.