Seachain an duine a bhíonn ina thost

I'm feeling virtuous again. I got up at 7 this morning to do the breakfast show with Miriam (who's become a much better presenter in my absence), then I went to the gym. Even though I haven't done any exercise for three months, I managed to run for twenty minutes and spend fifteen minutes on the cross-trainer. I watched several house renovations on TV, too: an all round good way to spend a few hours.

When I got home Chris and Nick (who were watching the Ashes DVD) told me they couldn't understand how anyone would want to go to the gym because it's boring. They were watching cricket. A cricket DVD. Of a match they'd already watched in its entirety. And they told me the gym is boring.

Went to the Abbey Road Centre (a resource centre for people with mental health issues) yesterday to do my music workshops. I've been volunteering there since my first year, but only started doing music workshops the week before last. I'm doing this Music in the Community module, so this is one of my projects. It's really hard to get people enthusiastic about joining in with anything, particularly something where they feel they might not be good at it. The first week wasn't particularly successful, but yesterday was much better. One guy had come along especially and wanted to sing the same song over and over. That was nice. Another guy came along to Abbey Road for the first time and immediately joined in with the drumming, then came into the waiting room with me to learn guitar. He's been trying to teach himself guitar, so he was really enthusiastic about being taught chords. He seems to be exceptionally musical and he's going to come back every week to learn more chords. Finally, some enthusiasm! I'm delighted.

I'm looking forward to Council tomorrow, hoping the new bilingual policy will have to be revised, although maybe people won't care enough. I'm also looking forward to talking about the Ffridd redevelopment plans. It'll be interesting to see who else went to look at them.

One of the guys in my year .. his girlfriend is in second year, also studying Music. She had a baby this morning. Although I'm really worried about the concept of students looking after babies, I can't help but be excited and happy about the fact that the baby has just been born. I want one. No, no, I don't.

How irritating. Last night I went to the studio again to see what could be seen. The power had returned, but the patching system wasn't working. That meant that music played on the computer could be transmitted (because the studio computer connects directly to the control room computer) but music played on anything that had to go through the desk (cds, minidiscs etc) could not be transmitted. Microphones don't work either. So we emailed helpdesk asking if they could fix it. The first reply I got said that the master faders were down and that everything's working fine now. That's not true. We checked the master faders, they were definitely up. The next reply said that the problem is with the control room PC, not the studio. BUT IT'S NOT! The problem is with the patching system, which is not ours to meddle with. If they're not careful I'll just patch it myself using the hardware patch bay.

Sorry, rant over. Next rant: bilingual policy. I sent the minutes of last week's Storm committee meeting to the lovely Gareth, the union translator (in accordance with the bilingual policy section 14). He replied saying that he didn't have time to translate things at the moment, what with elections and all that. He also said:

For practical reasons I'm unconvinced of the need to translate the
minutes of all Standing Committee meetings unless there is a demand for
a Welsh version from individual members ... I'm afraid I don't think it would be
practically possible for me to translate committee meeting minutes for
you on a weekly basis.

I really do like the idea behind the bilingual policy. I think it's very important that Welsh is preserved. It's something we haven't done properly in Ireland which is an awful shame. But why do we have a bilingual policy which is impossible to enact? We simply do not have enough translators for the policy to be realistic. Either we need extra translators or the policy needs to be re-thought. This is something that needs to be raised at Council next week when the bilingual policy is up for ratification. Of course you'll be delighted to hear that our Welsh Language Officer has translated the minutes for us, so we're still obeying the rules.

Reading Sam's blog has reminded me that I really should be going along to events held by different clubs and societies. But where to start? Last night I just stayed in drinking red wine and watching football. It was nice. And this morning I got not one but TWO nice things in the post: a card from Sinéad with messages from other friends scrawled on the envelope and a CD from Rory wrapped in newspaper. I like packages wrapped in newspaper. I just wished it had been the Irish Times instead of the Guardian which I can get over here anyway. Oh I must remember to buy the Guardian tomorrow: it's got The Wicker Man DVD in it. Right, time to eat.

Sick of being off air, I decided to do Something Borrowed Something Blue this evening. I thought 'no more of this pessimism, I'm going to go get something done'. I was feeling motivated and inspired, and my brave sidekick DJ PJ had spent weeks perfecting her song links. But guess what. We got to the studio to find that the main power supply is not working. Nothing in there is working. There is no electricity. Well, the lights and air-conditioning are working, but presumably they're on a different circuit. I can deal with having no play-out software. I can manage manual patching. But broadcasting without electricity .. well that's beyond even my powers. I've emailed helpdesk. I have faith in them. It Will Be Sorted.

We just had a marvellous election meeting. I'm feeling a bit left out, though: I need a Lord of the Rings name. Maybe I could be Arwen, or even Gollum. There's a nice name. Sounds a bit like Goggin. We went to Options and I had a delicious chicken and stuffing baguette. They do good baguettes there you know. Actually, sod this, this is MY blog so I'm going to call it a roll cos that's what it is. None of your imperialist baguettes here thank you very much.

Tom's just polishing off my posters at the moment, he's so luverly. It's difficult fitting two languages onto them. I might just have a separate poster for each language. But for now I'm going to go home and do some work before cloakroom.

.. and since I do fun modules, they include fantastic titles such as "Provide an analytical critique of the Beatles' eighth studio album" and "How important was the cultural and social climate of the 1960s in the formation and evolution of The Beatles and how were these changes reflected in their songs?" But I'm not even going to think about them until I've handed in my dissertation and analysis in week 10. Two weeks to do two essays will be positively relaxing.

I'm really hungry but I don't much feel like going to a shop and buying things to eat. I have all sorts of nice cheeses and spreads brought over by my family last week, but nothing to put them on. I could nip over to Aldi, but it's such a depressing place. There's hardly ever anyone actually at the till, and I find I don't actually save any money in there because the food is so horrible that I end up throwing it away. I'm shocked and horrified that Spencer has lost his appetite. How awful! I love eating. I particularly love full-fat dairy products. None of your margarine or semi-skimmed milk, oh no. I'm fairly thin, but my cholestrol levels must be sky-high. I just can't bring myself to care enough to stop eating so much cheese. Oh I saw the most magical device the other day: a butter dish that regulates your butter's temperature so it's constantly spreadable. It's about £30 but I'm very tempted. Then nobody'd be able to moan about margarine being better because you can spread it. All SORTS of horrible things are spreadable but I don't put them on my toast.

The nursery campaigners seem to be having difficulty getting anyone interested in their campaign. I suppose not many students have children, but I would've liked to think people are interested in things that don't directly affect us. Hypocrite, I hear you say. But no, I am interested, I just don't want to support their campaign.

We had the sailing club AGM last night. For probably the first time ever (shh don't tell the AU) we reached quorum legitimately. It was so exciting. Sailing club membership has almost doubled this year, from approximately 36 last year to 67 this year. Thank goodness for that, or we'd never be able to pay Plas Menai. It looks like we're going to have to increase membership fees slightly next year, but probably only to £35 (from £30). That's still quite a bargain: a year's access to the National Watersports Centre sailing facilities for £35. We don't want to price ourselves out of the market, but we do have to make ends meet.

After the AGM I went to a party in Bliss. I didn't know the girl whose birthday it was, but my flatmate Chris's band were playing so he had spare tickets. I took notes. I don't think I'll get the band to play at my party. I want Chris to dance, not play guitar. I bought a Bacardi Breezer thinking that was the most alcohol my body could take after giving blood. It cost a whopping £3.50. But it did make me fairly tipsy. What an odd feeling.

This has been a rather random post.

Why do I look so pixelated in that picture? Spencer, Tom and I have been bashing out poster ideas. I think I'm just not going to have a slogan. I can't think of one that I'm not going to get sick of within a couple of hours. Wonder-Tom has gone away to do some designing, and hopefully Spencer's going to sleep. Me, I'm typing up Storm minutes before going to the sailing club AGM. Wooopdiwoo.

I'm feeling very virtuous today because I gave blood for the first time. Sam accused me of just being in it for the ice-cream, but I didn't get any ice-cream! Just lemon, tea and Jammie Dodgers. Mmmm. It was much less painful than I'd expected. It wasn't as sore as having a blood test. I didn't feel faint either, which was nice. The chocolate cake I ate before going to the blood clinic probably helped. Weirdly, when I turned up they told me I was already registered (with my Dean Street address) and I had been declared medically unfit to give blood. But I've never given blood before! Now that they remind me, I did register in September 2004, but I didn't live on Dean Street then and I didn't give blood or even have a blood test, so why do they think I'm unfit to donate? I think someone's been giving blood in my name. Anyway I convinced them that I was able to donate so it worked out fine in the end, but it meant waiting around for a long time while they sorted it out. I have this morbid fascination with bandages. I always want to look underneath. The urge is really quite difficult to resist.

I've been listening to Talking Heads all day, jiving and bopping around my room. I was delighted to discover that the one Mariah Carey song I'm ashamed to admit I really do like is actually a Talking Heads cover. I feel credible again. What a relief. Actually on further inspection it's by Tom Tom Club, a Talking Heads side-project, and only part of the Tom Tom Club song is in the Mariah Carey song. Damn.

The nursery petitioners emailed to ask if I'd like to be on the petition. I don't know whether to email back debating their argument or just to leave it. They want to know how many children I have. I have twenty-three sons and I've named them all Dave (a Jammie Dodger for the first person to spot the reference).

Oh and I've finally booked Bliss for my birthday party. Be there or be ostracised. It's on March 21st, and I need to find 100 friends or they'll charge me £150. I think I'll manage, but Bliss'll be pretty jammed. It's teensy. While sitting in Mr Man's office I noticed an award on the wall: apparently The Octagon was Wales Nightclub of the Year 1986. Imagine, living on the same street as the legend that is The Occy.

I'm feeling more confident about the elections now. I'm going to make a million friends and convince them all to vote for me. It's the only way. Also, I'm pleased that everyone I've spoken to seems to think Sam's the best man for the job. I agree completely.

I've just been reading Intranet posts about the closure of the SU Nursery. Being a pacifist and socialist I'm often accused of idealism, but this is one issue where realism wins. There is simply no other building for the nursery.

The problem is that the (very good) SU Nursery has been housed in 'temporary' accommodation for several years. The building is falling apart, and is very likely to be condemned when it is next examined by the relevant authorities. Having a condemned building on your books is A Bad Thing, so the nursery will have to move. But despite Laurel searching and campaigning for several months, there simply is no other building. Nursery buildings have to be up to a certain standard and have facilities such as an enclosed outdoor space. Since the SU cannot afford to buy or build a new building, one would have to be provided by the University. Who are not doing any such thing.

So the nursery will have to close. While I believe it's very important to have facilities for students with children, the SU can no longer provide these facilities. However, the University nursery is still open and will presumably accept the displaced children. Only about fifteen students used the nursery, at an annual cost of £20,000. It's disappointing that the SU can't provide for these students, but (if I have anything to do with it) the extra money will be spent well.

I've just been working away on my dissertation today. I had a mammoth 12-hour sleep so I'm in fine form today. Going for pizza and a pint with the lovely sailing club committee later since it's our last meeting before the AGM. Sad news about Storm's new studio: it's definitely not going to be ready before September. So I won't get to use it. Never mind. We'll have to plan how we're going to operate for the rest of the year, because we can't continue this off-air/on-air lark. It needs fixing. Now I'm going to go focus on listening to my best friend from home who just broke up with his girlfriend. Awww.

Quick intro: I'm Carolan, 20, Irish, running for CCSO, studying music in Bangor.

Having ranted about Arriva on Sam's board I suddenly felt the urge to have a public blog. I confess, I do have a more private one hidden in the mists of blogspot, but if I were to tell everyone where that was I'd have to stop writing quite so honestly.

I'm just back from a lovely weekend in Dublin. I went to the RTE Living Music Festival, an annual contemporary music festival which features one composer each year. This year it was Steve Reich. How exCITing I hear you say. Well, yes. I love Minimalism and the concept of music as a gradual process, and Reich is the God of music as a gradual process (although [like most stroppy artists] he's not a big fan of labels such as minimalism).

Being too busy to spend the whole weekend partying with Reichy, I just went to Saturday's fun and games. But it was definitely the best day. I've dubbed it the Reichathon. Ten hours of solid fun. In fact it was nigh-on twelve hours by the time it was over. The day was divided into six sections, most of which featured the Crash Ensemble. There was also a public interview with Reichy and sections featuring the Irish Concert Orchestra and the Vanburgh Quartet. The Vanburgh Quartet section was the only godawful part of the day. They played Morton Feldman's Piano and String Quartet (with Hugh Tinney), an hour and a half of pure hell. It was one of those really quiet, slow minimalist pieces with a piano arpeggio followed by a chord in the strings. Just that. Repeated. For an hour and a half. Seven hours into the Reichathon, that was a poor programming choice. Especially since it was the only event held in Belvedere Chapel (yes, Joyce's alma mater, complete with Catholic hard benches for our sins) instead of the much more comfortable O'Reilly Theatre. At least they didn't play the full version .. I overheard someone mention there's also a version which is six hours long so really we got away lightly. Oh and we were sitting between one of Ireland's most eminent broadcasters, Eamonn Lawlor, and the music critic for The Irish Times, so we couldn't even fidget.

Anyway, enough of that. I should be talking about my election campaign or something. I spent quite a lot of Saturday feeling very anxious. I'm not sure precisely what I'm anxious about, and it was probably partly lack of sleep (had to get a ferry at 2:30 on Friday morning because the HSS has a hole in it), but it was an uncomfortable feeling. So I've decided to stop feeling anxious and start feeling confident. There now, isn't that better? This Will Be Fun. I still haven't got a campaign slogan. I think I'm going to spend all day tomorrow Thinking Great Thoughts. I hope Spencer and Tom are free to play the let's-design-posters game.