Where's you head at?

I had a great night. It was the soc ball, which was, somewhat pointlessly, held on a boat. (So it was just like a normal disco, but it was more expensive, and occasionally the dance floor would lurch sideways). It was good fun, and I looked classy until I got under the UV light and my white bra started glowing through my red dress. I solved this by taking it off, and waving it around my head, thus squeezing the last few drops of class out of my act. The music was pretty good- starting with some motown while we were sober, moving to chart cheeze when we were all trollied, and winding up with some xmas tunes. I had a nice dance with Alex- when he's not throwing wild shapes, the boy can move! He's a very good lead. Me and Steph had to walk home becasue we couldn't find a taxi, and Steph got sick of me hobblign pathetically in bare feet, so she gave me her boots and walked in my toe pinching stilletoes. I fell into bed, and forgot to take my pill, oops. I woke at 5, and couldn't get back to sleep. Eventually I slipped back into a doze, and had the most amazing dream. It really affected me, the imagery was obscure, but it seemed to have hidden meaning, and it has been troubling me. I woke feeling confused, and pretty out of it. The dream has been preying on my mind and distracting me. I won't describe it in detail, since it wouldn't sound sensible or particularly interesting, but there was a part where a handsome bloke was trying to teach me to fly; we were trapped and he was trying to give me the confidence to escape. I leaned close to kiss him, but slowly and hesitantly, just like any sober first kiss. He started to laugh, and told me basically to get on with it! I kissed him, and it was tender and comforting. I've had the same dream before, some time ago.

Guess I should go and get some lunch, and maybe play with my 'peekaboo poledancing kit'- I REALLY appreciated Andy sendign this particular gift to me via work stores. I've not done anything today, but I feel like getting out of here, there's some ghosts I can't quite see lingering in my head still.

Heavy gravity

One day, maybe when I'm about 65, I might actually finish my velocity model/ gravity model, and have something worth writing a thesis on. Its going alright, I just want it done, I feel like putting my foot through the monitor every time something doesn't look right (every 5 mins then).

I have yet another cold, and I'm feeling pretty crappy, but I'm goign to go out wed/thurs/fri, so that should kill/cure me. I'll try not to get hammered and tell Naoise what 'lovely eyes' she has this time! Poor girl!!

Andy gets home a week tomorrow, hurray! And I have to pick him up at 0620, boo!

Back to the modelling...

The Roaches

Our head torches cut thick, white cones ahead of us, stopping abruptly against a wall of inpeneratable fog. We followed the path to the hut, each isolated in our own small puddle of light. The hut windows made hazy yellow beacons, and gave the building a strangly sinister appeal, like the lone house that is always conveniently located on a desolate moor, when a young horror-film couple experience mechanical difficulties. The mist pushes against the crenulations and boulders that form the structure of this odd hut. We shut out the cold with doors and beer.
The next morning, the crag is still damp from the touch of the fog, but the sky is clean and cold. The hut is right at the bottom of the crag, so we can oscillate between cold climbs, and hot tea and toast. We climb until it is dark, and I am minorly humiliated when I get stuck in a tiny squeeze chimney at the top of a route. After much swearing, giggling, bruising and sheadding gear, I finally give up, and plop back out of the hole. This was despite Will's best efforts at pushing me up. He spent a considerable ammount of time standing between my flailing legs, causing him to comment that he felt 'like a gynaecolagist'.. nice. We got drunk and giggled the eavening away, helped by obscene conversation and bangers and mash.
The next day broke, and we once again found ourselves in a whiteout. Cormac swore lots, and was emotionally bullied into makeing tea for everyone. The mist lifted, and we finally went back to the crag. Sarah taught me how to prussik up a rope, which meant I spent a long time spiraling and bouncing on the bottom of her very strechy rope, and moving in any direction other than up. After that, Cormac led us up Valkyrie. I managed the first pitch, despite falling several times near the start of the route. I sat on the belay ledge shivering, as Sarah sped up the route. Cormac began the nasty traverse at the start of the second pitch, and the fog closed in again. He eventually back off, and we ab'd off back to earth. By this time, I was very tired and cold, and was finding concentrating a challenge. We warmed up with cheese on toast, and reflected on what an awesome weekend it had been. God, I love these weekends- why can't real life be like them!?

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I have another cold, so every time I sit down I want to go to sleep- drving up to the Roaches and camping for 2 night should be fun then! I went and did my journalist act on wednesday, covering a talk by Simon Singh for local school kids. It was awesome- I intervied him (briefly)- he had said earlier in the talk that he didn't like geologist, so that gave me a nice opening line :0). I've written the article, and I'm pleased with it, so I thought I'd post it:

...except it's not letting me paste into this window, bloody blogger!

Ah well, life's pretty good. Had a minor argument with Andy last night, which obviously sucked, but he did ring back later to apologise. I don't know what's going on there, and it is worrying me, but hopefully it'll all sort itself out soon.