Having fun isn’t hard, when you’ve got a library card


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The anarchy of ‘The Monarchy’


I once again reach that time of the year where you will find me skulking around the darkened corners of Edward Boyle library. With all the grace of a baby elephant I stalk, looking for a free computer, or glaring until someone leaves. I interrupt my day with constant breaks of eating sweets, sticking Haribo to my eyes, making Francine laugh, and short bursts of Angry Birds. I was today asked:

“Do you do any work or do you just wander around the library all day”.

In short no…… the mere fact of being in the library manages to trick my head into thinking that I am doing work. In reality the time I spend in between my breaks is taken up by looking at things I cannot afford, drawing pokemon, and playing ‘spot the hotty.’ Unfortunately for the Level 10 computer cluster today’s offerings of ‘hotties’ were slim pickings. So the topic of all my current beavering is the issue of the Royal Family, as British as tea and cucumber sandwiches you could say. It is hard to imagine a Britain without the Royals, despite the arguments I feel that if they were abolished we would face a massive hole. For a start who’s face would go on the stamp, and what would we do with Buckingham Palace? All that room could be put to use as a safari park for the Aristocracy, observing them in their natural habitat.

If the Royals were abolished, then please send some of the money my way. Ironically the first thing I would like to purchase is a ‘Diana’ camera. I saw one on ebay, but my offer of £30 under the asking price did not go down well with the seller. I can see a promising new career in photography aslong as my chubby fingers don’t block the lense. There is something about using a reel of old film or and old camera that can instantly transport you back in time. Other possible careers I have contemplated while procrastinating from my essay are : ‘Paul Burrell’, ‘Kate Middleton’s footman’, and ‘Royal Correspondent.’ I can easily pull of the Jennie Bond of standing in front of Buckingham Palace in a pastel  coloured trouser suit, gushing my love for the royal family, whilst the monarchy crumbles. I sometimes wish we could go back to the times of Henry VIII when the Royals were much more interesting: heads on spikes, headless wives, public hanging, eating swans. History back then just seems much more exciting than now. What I wouldn’t give to grab a bag of popcorn and go to  public hanging, rather than be subjected to another ‘Step-Up’ film.

So after all my extensive (2 days worth) reading, what are my conclusions? The monarchy, outdated or institutional? In my eyes all the sex and scandal just make it more interesting, the historians will have a field day teaching the lives of Charles and Diana to the children of the future; who will play them in a film, an aged Robert Patterson and Hilliary Duff ? They may cost a lot of money, but they make for some excellent news stories and comedy fodder. My auntie in Australia does a wonderful Charles/Di impression, it is hard to distinguish which she is better at.  They have the ability to crash cars, dress as Nazis, flaunt racism, even get accused of being an alien race…oh it is a Royal life! For the future, well the prospect that Prince Charles will soon rule the country is one of mixed emotions. He certainly has rather big shoes to fill to live up to the success of his mother. My new idea is bring Philip in as King, with Boris Johnson as his top advisor, then watch the hilarity roll in; If this option fails then the only king that I want to see ruling in future is  ‘The Burger King.’ As for the Queen, I like Queen Liz, but she isn’t a patch on Freddie Mercury- GOD REST HIS BONES.

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Who needs WeightWatchers when you have stress


I have started this week buried like a bookworm in the cavernous Leeds University Library. The vast expanse spread out before me, acres of  books piled high, towering over me.  As me and Francine passed through security gates of high demand books I felt like a criminal, the eyes of the man behind the desk followed us, seemingly implying we were about to snatch one of these high value books; it would be quite a money spinner, stealing the most expensive books and selling them out of a van À la Del Boy and Rodney. It would appear the man behind the desk would have good reason to be suspicious, as we scanned out our books and attempted to leave the alarm roared, and the swinging gates locked shut; we were in fact terrorists, and a huge security theft. Now it was all the eyes in the library staring us, BOOK THIEVES….I only wanted a four hour loan!! After the misunderstanding was cleared we swiftly began our ascent, climbing stair after stair, vainly looking for somewhere that wasn’t silent study. So this was where I spent my Monday, tucked away in one of the many ‘caves’ of silent study, thumbing through ethics books, and licking yoghurt off a spoon; it is these ‘shhhh silence’ situations that I find the hardest, you almost want to make noise, huffing and puffing, just so the people around you know how bored you are. I imagined what it would be like to live in the library, hiding in the stacks as it gets locked up, sleeping in the children’s section; apparently Sheffield uni library even has its own showers. I could live of a diet of leftover food scraps, and suck moisture from the books, it is at this point you realise you have been in the library too long.Eventually I gave up and decided our time would be better spent applying for ‘Coach Trip;’ so we finished the application, found an embarrassing picture off Facebook to send in, and popped it in an envelope; our fates were sealed along with it.

There is that dreaded day in my coursemates life, the day you realise you have to edit tomorrow, and still have nothing to edit; you quickly dash around cobbling together interviewees and blend it into something half decent. For me, that day was today. The sun blinked from behind a cloud as I left my house, my jeans were optimistically rolled into turn-ups, hoping the day would follow suit, sadly it did not! There were various excuses for why the general public wouldn’t talk to me, too busy, in a rush, one salon owner even claimed I couldn’t interview him because he was a professional actor; after just half an hour of traipsing the streets I had already had enough, the people of Hyde Park hate me.
Like a stalker I would lurk just slightly in the shadows, scanning the street for a potential sound bite, when my prey was selected I would lunge, microphone in hand, not giving them time to think; the excuse of ‘I’m in a rush’ seemed a bit ironic as watched the elderly people who had said it amble away into the distance, I am just not cut out for a career in journalism. As I entered a local garage two burly men approached me, stained with oil, and barking what did I want, I feebly tried to explain but was told an interview was off the cards. I asked one of them ‘What do you think about crime in Hyde Park,’ his response: ‘Well I’ve never been caught.’ To add insult to injury I even lost my professional edge, just when I had the perfect person I realised I had stood in a present, left by the canine world; I scraped my foot on the grass having lost my all dignity, then decided to call it a day. That incident summed it up nicely. The afternoon improved as I nabbed interviews from my neighbours and decided my piece needed some sounds; me and Francine had great fun smashing glass and throwing bricks, we anticipated every move of a potential burglar and tried to recreate this for radio. All we need now are stripey jumpers, and swag bags with dollar signs; a new career prospect?

An early night’s sleep is needed, I will be up at the crack of dawn finding yet more people to talk to! I wish you goodnight and warn you not to leave everything to the last minute; however this is how I always have, and always will live, on the edge of a knife blade.One good thing from all this is I actually forgot to eat for most of today; I briefly slurped down a nut-tastic Frappuccino on the terrace, but that was it until this evening….forget WeightWatchers, eat some stress for breakfast.

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