Welcome to Birmingham...we have nothing

Maybe not nothing. They have a bull.

Exhibit A:

Also a giant building that looks like it's covered in silver M&M's.

Exhibit B:

And a church.

Exhibit C:

And some rather exposed manequins:

Exhibit D:

Ignore the weather. It's British.

For those of you wondering why in heavens I went to Birmingham, the answer is simple. The original manuscript for “On the road” was there on exhibition and since I only read the book like 100 times and am somewhat obsessed with it, I had to go see it. Had to. I would have taken pictures but it was a museum, and while it may as well be a very un-Beat-like thing to do, I had to respect the rules. And there were guards and other people there.

But it was amazing, the manuscript looks awesome and I actually saw Kerouac's scribbles and notes on it. Awe. I was in complete awe. You could even see the parts where the scrolls had been taped together. And I found my favourite passage in the manuscript, which was beyond cool.

They also had a collection of various editions from different countries. I'd be permanently indebted if someone could explain this one to me:

Kinda like a really bad 80's flick, isn't it? A 5-years-later reunion of Grease? Any other ideas? I am confused.

And on that note, I leave you.

"They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn..." s

In which I rant and whine(and organize an impromptu contest)

I hate exam week. With a burning passion. Whoever decided that we must have exams at the end of term is a sadist that would make even Sade weep in shame. For the last 3 days the only conversations I have had have been about exams. I am basically living on a diet of Red Bull, Pringles and peanut butter sandwiches. My bed looks like this:

It's sad. Painful. I want this bloody thing to be over already! I miss seeing people. Not feeling like my head will explode at any time. Having a drink without starting to ramble on about the oxidation of alcohols, preparation and that fucking H NMR. I hate NMR with a burning passion. If anyone can explain please do. I have given up. NMR sucks.

(For any normal person reading this, NMR is nuclear magnetic resonance, also known as nasty mangled rubbish. I am not particularly imaginative at this time of the night. If you can come with a better one, you get your very own special guest blog entry. Exciting.* I might even throw in a Twix bar. If I have any left).

And now if you will excuse me I must go and try to understand my notes. Kill me.

*I am serious about this. It doesn't happen often. Me being serious. So, go on, I am taking submissions. How would YOU like to be special guest star? Also, this contest wasn't planned when I started writing this entry. Hence the impromptu. And if I don't get any submissions I might cry. Baby, I am.

Oh, yeah…lesson learned!

So, first off, Happy New Year. This year I decided I am far less perfect then last year so I actually made a resolution. Which I promptly broke. It was to blog more. Alas, when the life gets boring the blog gets abandoned. Christmas was rather uneventful. I have been counting the days and hours left until I go back to England(which apparently is “so sad it’s cute” according to a friend).

But back to my original point. What lessons have I learned yesterday, kids? That just because you did something before and it turned out ok, it does not mean that it will work again. In fact, it probably won’t. The something I am talking about is dying my hair. So, for my use in the future, here are some rules:
1.Take your time. Rushing will cause awful consequences. See below.
2.Be careful when trying to tie your hair in a bun and wait for the dye to set it. Magenta stains on the ceiling are not pretty.
3.Also, be careful when untying said hair. Magenta stains on your mother’s good tablecloth are not pretty.
4.And in general, just be careful. When you have long hair you might try to wash your hair let’s say…oh, somewhere not in the bathtub. I now look like the pink version of the Incredible Hulk. Only with less muscles. And you know, female.
5.Trying to wash said pinkness off your body will not work. I am so not ready for bathing suit season. Thankfully it’s winter. And I don’t wear bathing suits. But if I did, it wouldn’t be pretty.

But let’s look on the bright side, shall we? At least I have awesome magenta hair lights again. And now if you’ll excuse me, I will go scrub myself some more. Would sulfuric acid be too much?