arsearsearse.

My internet at home is being fudgy. Hence why I wasn't here last night. It's on and off, cause it's kinda my computer's fault. (I'd explain, but your brain would burn) HOPEFULLY, when I get back, it'll be playing along, but last night it wasn't having it.

So yes, I'm posting in a lecture. It's very interesting. Currently? Soviet Union and Eastern Europe.

Sigh. I'll be around, don't you worry.

More North American tales of intrigue:

- Countdown, a la French Canada is WONDERFUL. Seriously, I died of laughter. I also learnt some French.

- Number plates are just a bit weird. Like Quebec not having any on the front, Ontario's looking somewhat like a tourism advert, since when WAS Delaware 'the first state'...

- Any beer called 'le fin du monde' or 'Dieu en Ciel' has to taste good. Just has to.

- Never get iced coffee in large. It's POINTLESS.

- Always check the very far corners of a cupboard for a kettle before dismissing there not being one.

- Cream soda is DISGUSTING.

- Canadian bacon is NOT.

- Being a ten minute walk from the university is fantastic.

- Do they not have to kick field goals straight in canadian football?

- Brick is apparently, a type of cheese, not the cheap stuff you only use for grating... Merci, gelise

- I am now the resident internet geek. *sigh* Resetting routers on my second day...

- Erica, the other lass that lives down here is very nice. XD

- My bed is fantastically comfortable.

- Espresso Allonge is possibly one of Quebec's best inventions.

- Me and Olivia decided our guidebooks are horribly biased against Quebec and it's a sad thing.

- My dryer doesn't turn itself off, and there's no remote for the telly?

- ETA: AHAHAHAHAH. Automated phone call in French. Never have I been so amused by someone selling me something via machine.

I think that's all. *goes back to watching CFL* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Um...Calgary!!

And Mixka. An article for you.

Before I start. Adieu, tinsley towers, you will be missed.

Moving on. My day was so insane, I had to do a post. I just had to.

So, I go to the university for my meeting, then head down to do all the signing up for my fresher's week stuff. Whilst I'm in the arts prepaid queue, guess who I see in the -I-forgot-and-am-paying-now queue? OLIVIA! After scaring canadians with an exchange of 'fuck, it's you!' we signed up, and met over the 'free junk' bags, including t-shirts (this becomes important later).

Then we decide to go and get Olivia properly registered and so forth as a student, so I go and queue with her, but pop into the cafe to get a drink for us, and by the time we've got back, she's made friends with a crowd of Canadians. So, after what seems like ages of waiting and filling things in, and being smug about having done this on wednesday, we decide it's lunchtime. So, she takes me to this place she's discovered, which does fabulous omlettes and such. After several cups of coffee, we decide to go to Jean-Drapeau. Which is now...my favourite park EVER. She hadn't been.

Turns out, it's piknic elektronique! Which is like a huge outside party, in the sun, with fun music, fun tents and a really friendly feel, instead of being like a semi-illegal rave, it was just lovely. People had picnics and were just having fun. After seeing the world's biggest dogs and playing 'spot the groundhog', we find a RAIN TENT. So, we go dance in it, and it feels just like home. Heh. So we're a bit wet now.

On a wander from there, we find a cool little waterfall stream thingie. so decide to go paddling. Because this is the sort of fun collective decision you make (more on those later). We do, and start splashing each other like nutcases. Two Canadian guys join in and it gets very silly and we all get very wet. I go put my dry free t-shirt on and attempt desperately to dry out my jeans. Doesn't work. So, we decide to head back. Original plan was to go to her hostel, she'd get changed, then mine, then I'd get changed and we'd head down st-laurent for tea, right?

Didn't happen. On another fun collective decision, we end up on a nutty adventure. Right, for those of you that don't know, Jean-Drapeau park is on an island just off Montreal island. So, we
decide it'd be fun to go on a walk. We spot a bridge and think we'll be good. We believe all is well until we get near the end and realise it turns a corner too early. We're on Ile de Notre Dame. Which seems to be nothing but one big road, Habitat 67 and a view of the new port (ugly. as. fuck.) - the answer to this? OH BALLS. So, we ask a passing cyclist (who seemed to panic a bit himself when we addressed him in French) how we get to the main island. He tells us it's a bit of a walk, but to follow the bike tracks and it takes you down by the canal and you can cross there.

However, after following these bike tracks for ages, we decide to ask someone else. Except they're not so helpful and (I think) tell us (in french) that we need to go back where we came from to get to a metro station. We decide (one of our BETTER decisions) to ignore this and carry on on the bike tracks, vaguely hoping. We finally cross the canal, after some weird bike track directions and end up at an end of town that ISN'T ON OUR MAPS. However, we find a handy city map post around. Covered, seemingly, in at least four or five HUGE spiders (and after our 'what can kill me' talk, Gels, I was distinctly worried). After a little mild 'so what road's this? It doesn't look right? But it's the right road, I reckon...' we make our way up a hill to the metro station at Lucien L'Allier. We are ridiculously pleased, as we've now been lost for...a good two hours, but it's been an adventure. Except the door isn't open. THE DOOR IS NOT OPEN. We carry on trekking and find a train station above the metro stations, which we can get in. Except we have no idea how to GET to the Metro station. So, we ask a passer by who looks sensible and friendly. Only for her to, very apologetically, say she only spoke French. So, um, much to Olivia's awe and amusement, I skip directly into French and have a really bizarre conversation with her as we walk to the metro. Turns out she's actually Russian, but dammit, all my russian was pushed out my brain by jumping into French, so I miss my opportunity. But we talk about Russia in French? *shrug*

Anyway, now on the Metro, still soaking, but quite happy to be returning, we decide to go straight to my hostel, then head out for dinner, as it's half eight. Except upon stumbling out the Metro...it is SHEETING it down with rain. So, we end up having pasta and coffee at my hostel, chatting with the legendary aussies.

All in all...an adventure I'd rather not do again, but still, quite a fun one. It's amazing what having a friend around can lead to.

Ladies und gentlemen, I am in Canada. Montreal. I could amble, but hey, things I have discovered so far:

- that my ability to read and understand French is better than I thought. Much better.
- That I cannot say the same for my ability to speak French, but it's tolerably okay.
- That the only way I can stop myself from ordering 'chips' when I want um...chips is by ordering things in French. I kid you not.
- That North American lemonade is spectacularly nice. Eat that Sprite. Just EAT THAT. Clear, fizzy and not tasting like lemons? PAH.
- That CBC's coverage of the olympics is weird
- That 29 degrees is going to kill me tomorrow morning.
- That they're slowly destroying all the down escalators in Montreal. YOU MUST WALK DOWN THE STAIRS. ANYTHING ELSE IS LAZY.
- English? On the Metro? PAH.
- Language things I have noticed: Quebec French for 'parking' - 'Stationnment' but French French for parking? 'Le parking'. On 'Stop' signs - 'Arret', even though in the rest of the world, including France, it's still 'Stop'.
- Translated sign of the day: On a ride at La Ronde - 'Tenez-vous firmement' translated as 'hold yourself tightly'. Literal. But boy, did I giggle.
- Canadian beer? Sorry, ick. Montreal beer? GOOD GOD THAT STUFF IS NICE.
- I SAW A BEAVER!

I think that's all I've got so far. Importantly, I've found the place I'm going to be living, bought some postcards and am still alive. Huzzah.

Guess who brings you Torchwood fic?!

ME. well, this is my first one. I wrote it for fanfic_luckydip, my fun multifandom prompt community (check it out, ladies, need new people). This week, I got Torchwood and Porn Without Plot.

So I figured my f-list might actually want to see this one. (no, it's not the one I promised, Keira, but ssh, fic's fic.)

It's cracktastic, and surprisingly un-explicit. This is...uh, very, very silly. It's also Jack/Ianto, feat. Owen and Tosh, set before the end of series two and just under a thousand words long. I would write a little form thing, but I'm bored.

JUST GO READ.

( Miss Ianto... )

Apparently all I do now is post.

BUT! Today, money was just throwing itself at me. Unfortunately, none of it stuck. Seriously.

Firstly, whilst me and my brother are waiting to see Forbidden Kingdom (last showing, completely empty cinema and oh...it was some legendary, completely silly kung fu), we decide to go have a play on the itbox. So, I put fifty p in and touch the screen.

TWO POUNDS IN WINNINGS. Already there, for the taking. So, I claim back the winnings and use them to play instead of my own change. We still didn't win any back, but hey! nothing spent, nothing lost!

Then, we go back into town for birthday lunchness. We decide to go to wagamamas, which is awesomely nice (mmm, yaki soba. Although I did spend a lot of the time coveting the wooden ladle/spoon (a spadle?) my brother got with his food). I go to the loo, and on the way back, right at the top of the stairs, nobody around or anything, there's a wodge of cash. An actual wodge. I count it up, there's at least £45 there, maybe £55. I totally could have pocketed it and nobody would have noticed. FREE DINNER. However, I'm not that...okay, so I'm an idiot. I go hand it in to one of the dudes. Byebye potentially free money. Course, if I kept it, I'd be forever haunted with images of that nice Kiwi bloke and Polish lass serving us getting in trouble for missing money...or something.

My brother thinks I'm an idiot. Honesty prevails, even if it makes you poorer.

I hope it stops raining so the cricket will still be awesome tomorrow! DAY OUT!!!

Oh! Finally, CALLING ALL CANADIANS ON MY F-LIST (I know you're there, hiding...)! Labour Day. What sort of national holiday is that? Is it the sort which everyone gets off and virtually nowhere's open on? Or is it the sort which only civil servants, schools and handfuls of others get off, like our bank holidays? Basically: will I be able to go and buy useful things, like a duvet and pillow and possibly some kitchen bits on the 1st of September? Or am I screwed?

Laaaaaaaaaadeeeez and gentlefolk, I bring you! A month of my summer! Half a pot of glue! Getting covered in paper dust!

THE UNSEEN UNIVERSITY. LIKE YOU'VE NEVER SEEN IT BEFORE!

( nunc id vides, nunc ne vides )

And that's my summer over...

So, bounce bounce bounce. Canada news.

I hath registered! Whee. Not that that's really why I'm making this post.

I was doing a little timetable comparision (as Aber has FEBRUARY'S timetable avaliable...)

This is hilarious, and a tad terrifying.

( What McGill's timetable for semester 1 looks like )

( How the Welsh match up. )

Yeah. That's four lectures a week. (I know it looks like three, but after this week, I get another) *tries to figure out how to stay awake through semester two* *tries to figure out how she's not going to die of things starting at 8:35 in semester one*

Admittedly, there's still seminars and one module's worth of lecture/seminars to go in there. I still sense a definate inbalance. Although, I still sense injustice at lectures ON A WEDNESDAY. And! you keep stealing my Monday 5-6 spot! Wankers.

( What I be studying for the year, if anyone cares. Which you don't, but heeeeeey. )

I AM EXCITED. Also, the UU is nearly, nearly finished!

Before I leave you. THIS IS SPECTACULAR

They're unbanning Life of Brian! I didn't know it was banned...

*hopes for a ceremonial showing in the Commodore*

*is a little scared she's seen our mayor naked*

This is a mumblegrumble post. Move on if they scare you.

point the first: fifty effing quid for fresher's week? (well, fifty dollars each for two events...) Okay, food's included. Even so! Fifty quid?! *minor outrage* There goes any hope of affording the 'The Revolution will not be Televised' t-shirt I wanted. *sigh*

point the second: Saying that, I'm not outraged enough not to pay it and go anyway. There's booze and I'm all alone *sob* in the strange colonies. (sorrysorrysorry)

point the third: Now to figure out if I can pay online because I can't write a cheque in any kind of dollars, dammit! (I am also amused that the form asks for the name on the cheque and relation to student. As if someone else would pay it for you. PAH! I wish.)

point the fourth, note to self the first: Must stop laughing at Canadian French. I know 'des leaders' isn't right, I know there should be 'e's on the end of le sexism, le racism and royal, but never mind. Let them off, they came up with 'petanqued'.

point the fifth: And now, the long weekend from hell. Relatives. Relatives EVERYWHERE. Sigh. Tonight there's my uncle and crew. Uncle being awesome, auntie being awesome. ACK small baby cousin. theymakemesoawkwardsmallchildren. ack. *squirms* Tomorrow, there's grand party from hell, six months late for my gran's birthday, convienently the day before my OTHER gran's birthday (I mean, really gran, are you THAT short sighted, or just cruel?). Then on monday we're taking t'other gran out for shopping and dinner. Which might be sane. Might be.

Please, stop me before I kill myself. Or someone else. I also have gunk on my passport. Lovely.

N.B. I'm not that moany, and quite excited about canada stuffs, really, hence why it's just a mumble grumble post. My point about relatives and small children still stands. Now, scuse me whilst I invade my penny tub.

eta: my brother is making his computer talk. this is far funnier than you think.

Firstly, before I go on a ramble (not about Doctor Who, don't worry f-list, I won't spoil you), the fanfic challenge I was on about is DONE! fanfic_luckydip!!! Excuse me for my exclaimation points of insanity, bad and strangely rhyming user name and so on...

I am in the process of making graphics, but in sheer acknowladgement of my uselessness, if anyone wants to help me out there, I will love you forever and ordain you Master ofallthings Of The Graphics. So yes, go, join, hit me with opinions and other things.

Now. My real post. Uh...was there one? Oh, yes. This is the part you can ignore.

In honour of exam results (60, 63, 66! A little disappointed to throw away a First, but straight 2:1s across first year with an average of 65, I'm fine with), and being sandwiched between two national holidays, neither of which belong to me, I bring you the essay which got me 75. Lord knows why, it's just appropriate for both the French and American revolutions and every so often, I like to prove I have a brain in my head to the wider internet. This is philosophical rambling, so you may just want to ignore me. I may also be posting this here as I'm not exactly sure if this works for e2.

I need not repeat that this is my work and if you so much as copy any of it without credit, there will be hell to pay.

( This is dedicated to 2 and a half Johns and one Maxemillien. )

I know there was no point in that. I just like doing intellectual dumping. There was a word limit of 2000, I point out. On the off chance you did read it, tell me what you thought. Otherwise, go join ficathons. I know my degree isn't a topic for polite conversation, but if there's any time to talk about two revolutions, now is it!

Afternoon/evening/good-fucking-morning (for you, Bons), f-list.

I am bored. You know what I fancy? A fic-a-thon. A fanfic challenge. A...something. Multi-fandom, not huge, and something a little silly. As, you know, I was thinking about this.

I'd quite like to do a weird kind of multifandom fic-a-thon. Like this:

1. So, everyone makes a list of ten fandoms they can/want to write in. e.g. mine would go 1. Harry Potter, 2. Discworld, 3. Black Books, 4. Torchwood and so on. Whether this was secret (to add an element of surprise) or public is a matter for discussion. There could be an option to have one of your list as a cross over, or original fic.

2. Prompt every week or so. Could be a picture or a word, or an idea, or something. It comes with a number. That number is the fandom you write for, right? So if the prompt was, I dunno, 'sticks' and 2, I could write a fic about A Wizard's Staff has a Knob on the End. Someone else might end up writing about Bernard, Manny and twiglets. (I promise better prompts).

3. I quite like the option of some kind of system (if only 'here! you do it!', or as complex as picking the best fic) to change who provides the prompt (also means I can join in and write).

4. You could also include a word limit in the prompt, if you want to make me suffer. Options abound.

And that's the basic kinda idea I was having there. Anyone interested, poke me, I want to know if it's worth setting up. Suggestions are thrown wide open.

Lalalala. So I'm being constructive. This is my aim for between now and Canadia. Do something constructive every day. Yesterday it was bikes. Today? It is looking up something to do on my birthday in London.

As I'm flying to Montreal on the 19th. My birthday's on the 18th, so my mum said we could go to do fun things in London before hand.

The trouble is finding something fun to do in London (in the evening, as I've totally decided on the victoria and albert and wandering for the day) on the following conditions:

- Not too expensive.
- Inclusive of my brother, who's only itty and 16 (thus discounting most exercises involving drinking and comedy nights - BOO)
- ON A FREAKING MONDAY.
- Something where I don't get too smashed as I have to negotiate immigration the next day and being hungover is not really going to help, even after a seven hour flight that only took three.
- Is, y'know, something I want to do on my birthday.

(also, second birthday in London. Wheeeeee. Last time was Alkaline Trio at the Astoria. Mmmm)

So, f-list familiar with our fair (????) capital, suggestions are to be sent to:

'voltaireontoast,
Industrial Hell Hole #4,
The Grim North,
nr. the Watford Gap'

Observations so far:

Since when was it a flight, not a ride on the london eye? Anyone.
Since when did a day trip to York count as a day out in London? Or Wales, or Birmingham, for that matter?!
Terrified my brother by threatening Blood Brothers (his gcse play).
MONTY PYTHON'S SPAMALOT WITH SANJEEV BASKAR. nuff said.
Ahahahahaha! My dad told the Canadian Embassy six hundred times they didn't need work permits for their Canada Day thing today. Which actually looks like fun. Is it anyone's national holiday on my birthday? (what's the bet it's somewhere like Uzbekistan? All roads point to Tasknet and all that.)
Nothing happens on a monday. Seriously.


In entirely and utterly unrelated news. a) Give my fic a read, b) give the Doctor Who alternate series four on the spotlights a read, because that is FREAKING AWESOME. I stayed up until quarter past four last night reading that. c) my brother's mate is here so I can't have a shower. Mumblegrumble.

This was intended to be the first half of part two. But after reading it through and deciding it had a sensible break, it's now the WHOLE of part two. So it's a little shorter. Not to mention I needed cheering up for Delame's sake.

Suggestions-are-still-open-for-a-name-the-world-war-one-fic - part two

(ta for the suggestions so far, I'm still pondering. Indecisive me.)
Words: 1,203
Rating: Oh, 12, for warlike violence. I read a curious thing somewhere this week about ratings, and how sex always gets a higher rating than violence. So...lemme get this straight, you'd prefer impressionable youth to see something violent than something most of them are going to end up doing at some point in their life... Okay, I'll stop debating my ratings.
Notes: My military history is spotty in the specifics, so excuse anything I may be mistaken with (although I think it's mostly right), and note that the ranks used are ranks in French, my spelling isn't awful. For now, they're self explanatory.
Part 1

This fic is all mine, although I can probably thank Jingo, Monstrous Regiment, War, Strategy and Intelligence revision and Captain Jack Harkness for inspiration.


( Again, give it a try. )

Again, opinions and con-crit welcome. Before I screw up part three.

Politicians gone wild!!!: Episode one.

Okay, perhaps the three exclaimation marks were more the sign of creeping insanity through too many lemsips, but sssh, I have cold.

But I have been more than amused by politicians this week. So let me share.

First up! From GERMANY!! It's the delightful, ever so pretty (snerk) Angela Merkel! Who has been really getting into the football. Telling Bastian Schweinstiger (me and mon frere swear that's 'pig botherer' in German) off for getting sent off! And in more football related escapades... Be Warned - This article may inspire images of Angela Merkel being swamped by naked German men.

SECONDLY! From FRANCE! Nicolas Sarkozy is yet again enjoying proving himself the comedy European head of state (you know, they rotate it every so often, Berlusconi, those Polish twins, Jose Maria Anzar, John Major. Normally quite right wing, entirely batshit, and inspire a roll of the eyes which excuses all outrageous behaviour as 'well, it's just so-and-so', ignore them. France haven't had one since Charles De Gaulle, but Sarkozy's bringing it back with a vengence). AAAAAANYWAY.

"Say, Mr President. We're about to be presidents of the EU again, ain't that nice? Do you think we should send the National Assembly a gift to remind them to be pro-european, at least until the 1st?"
"Might be a good idea. How about a nice pen set and a tie?"
"Uh...sir. There's women in the National Assembly."
"What's that? We have WOMEN in the National Assembly now? Ah, give them the ties anyway. They might find a use for them."

My favourite bit of that one is the bit about some of them deciding to wear the ties anyway.

And finally! But certainly not least. What to do in an economic crisis, Mr Treasurer?! Oh, I dunno. Let's go save the wombats. No worries, mate.

I mean. Only in Australia. Nuff said.

( And now, a book meme. )

Drinking Malibu from the bottle, seeing how many people you can fit under a duvet on a settee for a laugh, not actually remembering if I rang my mum like I was supposed to last night, talking about Clausewitz at half past midnight with Dan the Man, deciding that crumpled Fosters cans ARE art, showing Dan how NOT to destroy a pizza before it's even cooked, not being able to feel my face or any other part of my body apart from my head, which is on fire.

This. Is. A. Party. Awesome stuff.

And now? I'm going to get a stein of ice water and recover with Green Wing. (Caroline/Sue hate love OTP. Closely followed by Boyce/Alan.)

Guess what! GUESS WHAT!!

Keira, we're going to top the Tardis model! We are!!

Because me and my brother....ARE BUILDING THE UNSEEN UNIVERSITY. OH YES WE ARE!!

Well, when I get some more money in my bank so we can afford a proper knife and decent glue.

That's the main news from our trip to the shops in the pouring rain today. My brother has a monkey suit for his end of year ting, which is hilarious, but not particuarly exciting.

HAVING MY OWN UU DEFINATELY IS!

stolen from erin_giles as I can't pass a meme without doing it these days. I blame boredom.


You know how sometimes people on your friend's list post about stuff going on in their life, and all of a sudden you think "Wait a minute? Since when are they working THERE? Since when are they dating HIM/HER? since when???" And then you wonder how you could have missed all that seemingly pretty standard information, but somehow you feel too ashamed to ask for clarification because it seems like info you *should* already know? It happens to all of us sometimes.

Please copy mine below, erase my answers putting yours in their place then post it in your journal! Please elaborate on the questions that would benefit from elaboration! One-word answers seldom help anyone out.

( Meme le deuxieme )

This Fic Needs a Name and for Now Will Be Known As the World War One Fic - Part One.

(I am taking suggestions on postcards for a name, I really am)

Words: 2,254
Rating a tame PG at this stage.
Notes: My military history is spotty in the specifics, so excuse anything I may be mistaken with (although I think it's mostly right), and note that the ranks used are ranks in French, my spelling isn't awful. For now, they're self explanatory.

Many people (okay, two) persuaded me to write a dream of mine as a fic. I have epic dreams sometimes. Thus, this fic is all mine, although I can probably thank Jingo, Monstrous Regiment, War, Strategy and Intelligence revision and Captain Jack Harkness for inspiration.

( Give my writing a shot. You never know, you might like it. )

Genuinely do tell me what you thought. Please. Whilst Part Two is still pending.

It is Friday the 13th now.

I have had a grand international phone call. A grand one, I tell you! (also, is it just me, or do all Canadians sound so. impossibly. nice?)

I have finished Thud! I have no more Discworld. Gah.

I have also finished the first part of my WWI fic.

I have redone ALL my icons. Go check out my new collection!

Sigh. If only our government weren't having fun repressing us on a majority of nine.

I shall post fic after a read through tomorrow.

Salute! see you then.