Epilogue: what ever happened to Anti?

Some of you may be wondering what happened to Anti. Or maybe not, you have nothing better to do and you're just looking for a way to kill time until five o'clock rolls round. Whatever. I'm gonna tell you anyway. It's not for lack of ideas that I haven't been here, most days I find myself jotting down future potential blogs of wrath. Unfortunately, lately I haven't been in the mood to sit in front of a computer for mixed reasons, some personal and some silly, such as wanting to get a really good tan. But those will have to await my future blog projects.

For now, I'd just like to say that despite all the loafing around, watching daytime television and frittering my time away, I'm proud to say I got a 2:1 for my degree. So it isn't a first. I'm still damn happy and so ner. Sorry, I'm being juvenile. Long and short of it, its been a great three years.

So, what you going to do now, you graduate, you?

Well, I have a job starting on the 10th of July, so I guess I must now officially, and somewhat sadly, renounce my status as a student, much more so a student, interrupted.

Kinder X

If there's one form of chocolate that I take particular delight in, it's Kinder Surprise. You know, the chocolate egg with the toy in it? Yeeah. Everyone loves Kinder eggs, as they shall hereby be referred to as. Not only is one's chocolate craving satisfied by the delicious combination of white and milk chocolate, there's the toy.

Once I've devoured my chocolate, I love cracking open that little plastic case thing inside and seeing what little bits of plastic require putting together. Recently, I've noticed that these bits get less and less and plastic figurines, pre-built or almost complete have started to appear. Not only is this a travesty as there is nothing that I enjoy more when stoned than the challenge of building a plastic racecar, I have also noticed a disturbing new theme to these toys.

It seems that those cunning employees at Kinder are finding ways to have a bit of subversive fun with the kinder toys. Tired of racecars, chicken with flapping wings and so forth, these poor souls (who probably thought their degreee from an art school would pay far more dividends than designing plastic crap for unappreciative kids, are probably grinning into their coffee. I first noticed with a rather dubious mariachi guitar player, who when run along a surface would jiggle his arm supposedly to look like he was playing his little plastic guitar. In reality, it looked like he was having a whole different kind of fun, if you get my drift. I have since lost the little mexican but last week, I got a whole new obscene kinder surprise.

Having munched through my chocolate and cracked open the plastic inside, I was greeted with the sight of a very bug-eyed pre-built figurine of a pirate snail (I know). At first, I tossed it aside, thinking it didn't do anything. It wasn't until much (well ok, an hour) later when I was considerably drunk that I picked up the toy again and ran it along the table top.

I was shocked. As my pirate snail wobbled along the table, his eyes began to pulse in and out, his head expanded and contracted again and honest to God, he was gurning. I couldn't believe it, pirate snail had clearly munched his way through a bag of ecstasy. Unfortunately, I can't figure out a way to video the movement as the figure is so small, so below are a series of close-ups of the one I have dubbed 'Kinder X'.

The 100th post

So, not only is the 100th post, it's also the POST OF FREEDOM! This morning, when I woke up, I was no longer a slave to forced knowledge. I cast off the shackles of higher education and instead, crossed my fingers and began the ritual of praying for the best. My final essay went in after much confusion to do with title forms and then the afternoon saw the final exam I will ever sit. Although, I haven't really sat that many while at Uni, it seems to be a bit hit and miss.

So. Guess that's it. I'm no longer a student. I have no more studies to be interrupted. But until the end of June when the fruits of our labours are graded, re-graded and classified and in the eyes of the NUS discount, I shall at least remain in part a slave to the institution at which I have spent the last three years supposedly toiling. Which in a way, I suppose I have. I have perfected the art of the lie in, collected several big library fines, learned to cope with whole new types of mould and acquired minor skills in electrianism and plumbing and a new appreciation of dishwashers amongst other things.

Today, I have also gained a new appreciation for the simpler forms of technology. Since getting my last new phone about this time last year, I had various issues with its lack of delivery of messages, crazy flipping display and lack of technology. So, last week when my upgrade date rolled round, I called up my provider to see what they could do. The results was that I ordered what seemed like the very spiffy Nokia N70. It finally arrived amongst much rejoicing on my part and admittedly, a little bit of over-enthusiastic package tearing.

Ooooh I thought as I held the lovely chrome phone with massive display in my hands. Niiice. But then my eyes drifted down. Yes, the screen may be big but the keys are absolutely miniscule. Now, I've had phones with small keys before but a 4 year old would have issues with these. If I were male and in possession of larger digits, I would be even more displeased. At least I have nails to poke with.

I also think it has too many buttons. Way too many. I keep on accidentally knocking all of the tiny ones on the side and being whizzed off to some random menus. Suddenly, I find myself drawn back to my old dodgy flip phone but I shall persist and give the N70 time. Perhaps it'll grow on me.

What Antonia needs

So, my friend Carl posted a thing about the Google thing where you type your name followed by needs (eg John needs) into the search engine and see what comes up. So I got curious and typed in Antonia needs to see what came up. The first link took me to this, which basically sums it up.

However, as you may've noticed, the above link takes you to antoniabance.org.uk. This may sound narcissistic to some but I always find it really weird to come across or meet another Antonia. I suppose it's because its not a very popular name like others such as Charlotte or Tom, etc. So there's always this slight fascination when I meet another Antonia, it's almost like they've stolen your name or something.

Anyway, I am waffling mercilessly, it's probably the heady mix of excitement and dread that tomorrow has brought onto my shoulders.

Final exam. gulp.

It's over! (Well, almost)

Dissertation Run 06, originally uploaded by spiltink.

Monday finally came and went, in a very drunken blur. I probably should've eaten some breakfast before getting stuck into trips to the bar. As you can see from the picture of my friend Holly* and I above (taken in the time old hold-camera-aloft-and-smile fashion). Not only are we drunk, we're also decidedly windswept. Having mocked us all with sunny weather last week, the day dawned very windy, overcast and generally blah. And yes, it did rain later.

Bastards.

The great British weather didn't deter the runners though and there were lots of comedy moments of people streaking through the gathering crowds or doing the final run in fancy dress, which in our collected drunkeness, the crowd roared their approval of.

It's very strange to think that the dissertations are done and gone; However, its not all over quite yet. There's still the small matter of that exam and the 3000 words that the english department feels it is due. It's with heavy heart that I return to my laptop and books after the brief taste of freedom that Monday (and the subsequent Tuesday recovery day) afforded me. Until then, I hold on with the knowledge that it'll all be over next Monday.

NB: * - you may remember Holly from our adventures over at the The Oz Blog, our adventure through the South Pacific's dossing trail.

Playing with Utensils

Ladies and Gents, you may want to stick a fork in me because I. Am. Done. Well, almost. There's still a small matter of another 3000 word essay and an exam but in my eyes, the bulk of it is now over.

Both dissertations sit printed and bound, with all of their title sheets and so on attached. I feel I can once again reclaim my social life and the right to get drunk the second those get handed in tomorrow and believe me, drunk I will get. But right now, I am beyond exhausted and my bed looks far too good. This week has pushed all of my previous boundaries in terms of hours spent tapping at a keyboard, it's also tested the theory of how long it's possible to go without a shower and exactly what time the sun rises in May. This probably makes no sense.

But it's over. Yeay.

HMWJC? - How Much Would Jesus Charge?

So, we've all read about the stories of people selling their kidneys, virginity and souls on ebay, but surfing around on ebay today, I came acorss some fruit loop who has gone one better.

Buy Jesus!

Well, not quite. Apparently, some time in 1984 in a small town, a tall, handsome and 'golden' Jesus visited our religious entrepeneur and bestowed upon him the answers to all of life's most vital questions- you can buy the cure for cancer, the location of heaven and the solution for world peace for the startingly price of only £7000.

Bargain.