So I need to correct a *slight* omission from my last post.
It's not entirely true that I don't know how I get these guys, what I more meant is I don't know how I get the guys worth writing home about. There are other guys, included in the totals I gave, that come under the heading 'work'. I have no problem with this method of supporting myself, though believe me, its still a job, and still needs time and effort on your part like any self run venture. But how else did you think I was paying my way through a second degree?
Today I saw my besterest friend in the whole wide world (and his girlfriend). I love Jme, and have known him since we were both 3. Like so many things in my life, we make no sense, he is the eternal country farmer bumpkin, I'll forever be a city boy. But we love each other dearly, in a completely straight and manly JD/Turk kind of way. Depsite being a permenant child, more so than most other males that is, he is also the one dragging the rest of us kicking and screaming into the areas of friendship hitherto ascribed to the people your parents call friends. The kind where you see them once or twice a year, you catch up on how the family's doing, how work is going and what you're doing with your lives, how decorating the new kitchen is going. And by pure coincindence, he happened to mention how when surrounded by certain kinds of people (typically country shooting people in this case), your accent, diction, deportment, phrasing and syntax subconsciously and completely changes. This is something Chris will appreciate. We've been talking recently about how having spent the first 10 years of my life in private schools, surrounded by public school cultures, I acquired the public school boy ability to have a perfectly and pleasantly polite conversation with practically anybody about virtually nothing, and at the end, you have no idea where you've actually managed to establish any lasting rapport with that person. Chris, having only come into this sytem upon attending oxford 4 years ago, just finds these kinds of situations and those kinds of people bloody annoying. I, and many others of you who have been through the public schooling system, will no doubt argue that you're always on the lookout for contacts, even ones you hate...
During the course of our day, Jme happened to ask about my barcode, to which I promptly responded that he didn't want to know. For those that really do want to know, carry on reading. The barcode does indeed link to something, it links to me, it is my TSR registration number. I am a 100% owned and collared boy, and damn proud of the fact. Remember people, google is your friend.
Another friend told me to stop avoiding my issues, and face up to them. I argued I had done many times in the past, and that hadn't helped, and besides which, I had another week before I truly had to face them again, so am perfectly content to sulk in the corner for a good few days before then.
I'll be grumpy on my own like I don't care...
Bonus points for the two references.