jack of all trades, master of nothing

Can't...work...anymore... Since 13:00 Sunday afternoon, have spent 90% of my waking hours staring at the computer screen, producing 'output' and revising again and again. Cabin-fever set in yesterday evening and the moment I stepped out of the flat, The Doves' 'Black and White Town' blasting, I'm stunned by a wave of euphoria. I grin big walking to Baker St station, smirk stupidly at everyone on the tube, watch all the passers-by at London Bridge, the awareness of being in London slowly dawning on me again. Nerm' and I stroll along the bank at night, snapping photos of London sparkling at night, pondering selections at Ben and Jerry's in Leicester Square, all the while spouting non-sequiturs in giddy excitement. The finish is so close I can taste it.

Can you believe we're almost Masters? she asks. I still have problems associating 12 months of random theory and frenetic research with the title 'Master of Arts'. Me, a master of arts. I stiffle the sarcastic snort. Just pass me already and dejame aprovechar del poco sol que queda!

it's supposed to be Sunday

whirlwind weekend, whirlwind weeks, where has the summer, the year disappeared off to? you ask me what i did last weekend, no, you ask me what i did yesterday and i strain to remember because things are going too fast, one day melts into the next, and i think wait, was that just last week? it seems like ages ago. conversely, other things that happened a month ago seem like they just happened yesterday. memory only works in reverse chronological order these days - today spent on the computer working like a demon, taking fresh fig and tea breaks, yesterday was manic, starting with an afternoon of cuban ballet, a trek to seven sisters for wine and yoghurt and then an evening of jerk chicken and chill b-day celebrations.

before, before, what before? in keston lodge, in angel, waiting impatiently for andre to show up and whaddaya know, he keeps us waiting and makes an entrance, a swagger and a sly smile and my eyes twinkle with the knowledge that it's time for a round of whisky shots.

before, before, what before? oh wait, there was an interview with bloomberg in there, an enlightening experience, the moment i walked in i remembered what i shouldn't be doing with my life, everyone pretty and stiff in their pretty and stiff black suits, staring in silence at the screens, me smirking at big brother, how clever clever clever he is na? i'm annoyed at the interviewers and do stupid things, pretending i'm not paying attention and then giving them an impressive answer but hey, reject email arrives the next morning and i can breathe a sigh because as much as i don't want it i'll take it if i get it because you gotta take it if you get it na?

and you're wondering why i'm typing like this i told you i've spent the entire day in front of my computer, writing, typing, thinking to the sounds of radiohead and four tet (btw four tet is my new study music which is funny cause i won't be studying much longer) and now i'm listening to oakenfold's travelling, an album i haven't listened to for almost 2 years now and it's amazing how the vibes never change...

Chile finally making headway

In one of a series of judicial/legislative changes made in the past 2 years - beginning with the legalisation of divorce and stripping Pinochet of immunity - Chile has voted to eliminate elements of the constitution left over from the military dictatorship of Gen Augusto Pinochet.

broody mood

I'm in the mood to chain smoke Gauloise ciggies and brood. Sit in my blue armchair and stair out the window while listening to Interpol or Sigur Ros or Radiohead or Jeff Buckley or Coldplay. Yesterday I caught a whiff of autumn - that faintly acrid smell of a woodfire burning out in the open, in the distance. But refreshing. Like you could just eat the air.

li'l miss consumer

So I've been really sporadic about posting. But I promise, I've been busy...living. Chugging along with the dissertation. In a three-hour session, only 15-20% is actually spent writing. The rest of the time is spent checking email or writing to people I haven't written to in ages, cleaning my room or getting a sudden urge to file through my bills and statements, downloading different applications for my laptop, listening to the traffic outside, making another cup of tea, or checking my nails for chips (from typing of course).

In the past week I have trekked to Bethnal Green to check out potential flats, watched 'The Machinist' with a philosophy PhD, consumed Haagen-Daaz in a muddy patch in the middle of Leicester Square, spent over an hour inspecting new duvet covers, repeatedly 'booked' my social calendar, read the most bizarre news articles - like this stone-throwing girl (WTF?!), watched tv programmes on OCD and cystic fibrosis, had a free manicure, and been in contact with most everyone I know either through email or phone.

Did I add that I think my new anthem is Liz Phair's 'Extraordinary'? That has to be the icing on the cake. I'm beginning to see the charm of the mainstream...

I'm so bourgeois it makes me sick.

the primary difference?

From Gita Mehta's Karma Cola:

'The Eastern Master when asked "What is the Answer?" has traditionally replied "Who is Asking?" In that lies a central difference between Eastern and Western thought. The East is not concerned with intellectual aggrandizement, so much so that Jung testily called the Eastern mind childish, a mind that didn't even ask questions, but simply perceived them. In a tradition where the question asks itself and the answer replies itself and all that remains is to establish the identity of the asker, clearly the occidental is going to experience serious difficulty in eliciting any information at all, be it spiritual, physical or just the fastest way to get to the next town.'