So there isn't much more to do, one day left in fact, and perhaps some luminance equations to work on. Enough on the writing front.

Here are so photographs for your viewing pleasure.

Here is a lovely photograph of all the design work I just submitted..blah blah boring

More importantly however, this is the outfit in which the said work was submitted. I like to call this outfit 'Can't-decide-what-type-of-wine-I-am-outfit" or something like that.

For those of you that wish to copy it, it comprises of : the perilously featured, lime green H&M polo shirt, purple CK underwear, white/cream/depends on the light, gap chinos rolled to the knee, leather accessories including belt and flipflops.

Obviously its name comes from the different colour gapes.

I have a bar to drink dry now.

"Twenty days of hell" as it's dubbed in our faculty, is about half way through. Put simply this is known as exam and portfolio period and is probably the most important stage of our course.

Naturally I've decided it's not that amazing and I have, so far:

- ignored all the work I have to do.

- spent the day calculating my age in days (well into my 7000th's - guess the correct number of days old I am and you can...erm win a prize or something.)

- taken sometime out to sample antibiotics from various friends, thus helping produce the next super bug (this is something I am very proud of.)

- spent all other available time watching day time television.

Not really what I'd call hell. More heaven?

It has come to my attention that watching Homes Under The Hammer should be officially classed as revision, cos it's buildings. This beautiful creation is my new pass time, that and the lovely woman from Bargain Hunt...Julian? Jillian? I duno. Lovely voice, cracking pair of tits.

If this is what the unemployed do all day, I want to be unemployed (or at least state dependant.) Thanks.

So I'm in a bar in Devon. I've been out with a PJ, V and the old work gang. Some tracksuit wearing chav comes up to me and tells me that I've called "Tara a fake". Who is Tara? Next thing, there are about six people crowded around our table.

Tracksuit Chav : "If you said it again I'm gonna mess your face up"
Me : "Excellent, I look forward to it"

Everything kicks off and the bars bouncers, as well as bar staff are quickly called to our booth. Some chavs square up to V and PJ; who quickly reminds the girls that she's an E1 girl, and she doesn't take shit from anyone.

S-jane and Lee control the situation with the unsucessful help of the bouncing team, whilst in the mean time I make small talk with a guy who is a friend of a friend, who asks what's going on. To which I reply

"I've no idea but appearntly I'm the centre of it."

These tracksuits are escorted from the pub, and shortly after we leave. On the way out we walk past these ASBOs, who make a snotty comment and are quickly reminded by the Bouncers that they should watch themselves. We then pass the girl who says I called her fake, who whispers under her breath "Prick."

Our night is pretty much over and I have to charter a lift home.

The perks of being a big fish in a small pond eh.

So I've been silent for a few weeks. Truth be told I've been to Barcelona. Where it rained, a lot.

Other than that I'm not entirely sure that there has been much worth writing about. That said, I am under the influence of Spanish sleeping pills. Which I have discovered can be quite heavy but worth a laugh.

Oh and it's Easter break, which has been, so far, quite nice. Although I've worked most of it, because we, as architectural students, are simply not allowed to ever have any time off.

I'll be extra vigilant for exciting events, but for now know that I am alive.


Oh and I can't get into my mail box anymore...perhaps Ash has changed the code.....

(that's a lie because the combi-locks can't be changed. But it sounds dramatic and I like that)

On Tuesday my front door locks behind me and I am left standing outside my apartment half naked. When my card is swiped into the lock nothing happens.

So I have to go to reception where I inform the woman that the lock on my front door has failed. She gives me an admin card, and I tell her that I don't think it will work. Which it doesn't. So I have to go back to reception, still half naked, and tell her this. She decides that the door might need more batteries.

Apparently our high security locks run on 4 AA batteries?

So I wait for her to get some batteries from another court as she doesn't have any. And I'm still naked. Twenty minutes later she comes back with some batteries which she installs in my door, with no avail.

So we go back to reception where I sit in the window seat whilst she calls security to get a master key. Then who should walk in. Ashley the stalker warden, who has clearly just come up to see me naked. I guess good news travels fast.

Long story short, eventually my door gets fixed by Ashley after an awkward lift journey and even more awkward conversation. Which pretty much goes something like this :

Ashley: "So why were you outside in your pyjamas?"
Me: "Measuring the hall way"
Ashley: "Oh"