Seachain an duine a bhíonn ina thost

Gosh, this has been an exhausting week: two eleven-hour days so far and it's only Wednesday afternoon.

I've squeezed in a Societies Committee meeting, an exceptionally well-attended Societies General Meeting, a meeting on the future of my beloved Sailing Club, a very long Council meeting (where we decided to have a referendum on whether or not we should stay affiliated to NUS and where us Exec members were mandated to run a 'no to NUS' campaign), a whole load of society issues, a newspaper about to go to print, a radio station about to relaunch and an entire re-freshers' fair (with all the controversy that goes along with it).

Oh, and we've got what looks like a very charming new dog, Leavy.



Isn't she lovely?

I've just received an email entitled "his twitch so sex". I don't even know what that's intended to imply. Nevermind, they see that I am clever man.

I have to admit that today Sam, Tom H and I have been messing. Messing with the now-dormant photography society's equipment. There was a purpose behind all this -- we wanted to see if we could take professional-looking photos of the various dignitaries who'll be attending Serendipity 2 -- but I think we got a little carried away.

It's early. I'm tired.

These bank fellows are so very creative. Not content with simply messing up this whole credit rating, today HSBC's ATM decided to eat my bank card. So, lucky old me, I got to spend my THIRD lunch break out of the last six sitting on their nice red chairs feeling baffled.

This time what they've done is close down my International Student Account as soon as they opened my Student Account. When I was in there last week they assured me that they'd let me know before closing my account, and that I would definitely get my bank cards for my new account before they closed my old one.

But no.

They processed my application yesterday (so I now have a £1,500 overdraft and a credit card) but my cards won't arrive until next Monday. "Who cares!" said HSBC to themselves. "Who needs money anyway?"

Anyway, the nice lady (a different one this time) helped me out by transferring all my money to my savings account which still works, so I'm okay. And she has also transferred all my direct debits, and given me my new account number so I can go tell HR not to pay me into the wrong account.

It seems to me that all the staff in HSBC in Bangor are very nice and very helpful, but that the staff in their central offices are Complete Idiots.

Spencer's latest post has reminded me that I forgot to tell you all my exciting news: I'm now a card-carrying Liberal Democrat. Deary deary dear.

I've just been to HSBC. I was going anyway, to ask them to upgrade my account to a normal student account (an email to the Assistant Registrar sorted out our student statement problem), but while I was there I thought I'd ask what I could do to improve my credit rating.

So we had a little look at my account. I mentioned that I'd had a cheque bounce, and the lady felt that wasn't enough to merit blacklisting.

Then she mentioned that I'd breached a "promise to pay" after my cheque bounced. "Ah," I said to myself. "That's what's wrong."

Now I have not breached any promise to pay. What has happened is that HSBC is staffed by idiots (except for the lovely lady who helped me to sort all this out).

You see, my cheque bounced on April 20th 2006. On April 22nd I got a phone call (they may have phoned earlier, but I only arrived back on April 22nd) asking when I would sort this out. I told the Indian guy on the phone (who was really struggling to understand me) that I would lodge the bank draft I'd brought with me on the Monday (April 24th) and that it should clear by Thursday (April 27th). So he entered into his little computer that I had made a "promise to pay" on April 27th.

So on the 24th I pottered along to the bank and lodged my bank draft. But HSBC's magical computer didn't care about this. It simply looked at my account on April 27th and saw that I hadn't lodged any money that day, and decided that I had breached my promise to pay.

In a nutshell, I have a black mark on my record for paying money into my account early.

Anyway, she's going to set in motion a sort of complaints procedure thing, so somebody somewhere will go listen to my phonecall and hear that I said I would lodge my money on the Monday, and if I'm right (which I am) they'll amend my financial records and tell Equifax to amend theirs too.

By that time I should also have my shiny new account with a credit card and overdraft, so my credit rating may well have risen enough to get a phone. And perhaps I could persuade O2 to ask Equifax to reinstate the point they took off my credit rating for refusing me credit, something which was clearly based on HSBC's mistake. Perhaps pigs will fly.

I'm feeling frustrated and ready to start bitchslapping various people with the Data Protection Act.

So I went to the o2 shop yesterday to see if I could get a contract phone, but they refused me because apparently my credit rating isn't good enough.

My credit rating is presumably poor because I have an International Student Account and I had ONE cheque bounce ONCE (although I can't know for certain because it costs £16 to get a copy of your credit rating from Equifax and they don't have real people to talk to on the phone).

So I phoned o2 to ask why my credit application was rejected, and they said they can't tell me why because that would breach the Data Protection Act (even though it's data about ME which I thought I was entitled to).

But now that I've been in the UK for over three years I'm entitled to a Normal Student bank account with an overdraft and credit card which will improve my credit rating.

But to get one of those I need a student statement from the University saying I'm still a student. I've been asking Student Records for one of these for several months now.

It's. Not. Difficult.

Sam has tagged me, so now I have to try find five things you might not know about me.

I have a strange desire to cross the Atlantic Ocean in a sailing boat.
I don't think I'd enjoy it in the slightest, but I can't fathom quite how big it is until I cross it by boat. Flying really isn't good enough: you look out the window for a few minutes, get bored of looking at nothing and start watching the in-flight film.

I'm officially a Talented Youth.
I used to attend Centre for Talented Youth Ireland summer school things. I went for three years in a row, studied Decision Maths, Evolutionary Economics and Computer Applications, and made some of my best friends there. Sam says it's funny watching me saying Centre for Talented Youth because I quite clearly expect people to mock me when I say it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not embarrassed or anything, I'm just expecting to be mocked.

I have thrown up on the inside of a tent and slept in it.
What a party that was. Afterwards, Mum told me I'm a horrible child.

I used to be good at athletics.
I nearly set a triple jump record in my school, but I was in the 'minor' category at the time, and minors weren't supposed to do triple jump (doesn't start until you're a junior) so there was no record to beat. But my jump was further than the junior record. I also did lots of middle distance running, and was Senior Girls cross-country champion in my final year. Now I'm just lazy and unfit.

I don't like almonds.
This is mostly because they taste bad, but also because they taste and smell like cyanide. I think I've read too many detective stories.

I'm going to tag Ian, Vicky and Dafydd because they haven't blogged for a while.

I just bought a new camera. The lovely insurance people paid up, so I'll shortly be the proud owner of a new Canon Digital Ixus 65 (with a case and 1GB memory card) for precisely the cost of my old camera minus the €85 excess. Bargain.



Along the way I managed to automagically increase my credit limit online. What a wonderful thing the internet is.

This office job thing is unhealthy. I've definitely got a sedentary lifestyle these days: I spend most of the day sitting down in the office, then I either walk on foot to my house or I get driven to the shops or up the hill. So for the first time (excluding the time I went to America and was fed lots of unhealthy fried food) I've definitely put on weight.

Thing is, I quite like exercising. I just feel so tired after work that I can't be bothered going to the gym. But I've been practising strengthening my resolve over Christmas (forcing myself to go cycling in the cold, for example), and now I'm fighting fit and have started going to the gym again.

I'm trying not to eat as much rubbish, but that's difficult. I was doing so well yesterday, eating porridge and banana in the morning, soup and bread for lunch, and fish with couscous for dinner. But hunger got the better of me and I topped it all off with a big helping of Haagen-Dazs Strawberry Cheesecake flavour and a chocolate cookie.

Dad's postcard from Cuba arrived today, minus the picture on the front cover. It looks as though it's been dropped in a puddle: all the writing is smudged.

I wonder if the postcard was censored by a patriotic postman. It had a picture of Castro on the front, who I'd referred to as "some chappy", alleging that his beard was "a bit half-hearted". Perhaps he tore off the picture in a fit of rage, indignant at the idea that some foreigner would show such disrespect for Dear Leader.

If so, dear Cuba, I'm very sorry.

Driving is a scary thing, you know, but I'm beginning to feel less scared.

The stopping and starting is the worst bit, all that pressure to actually get into gear on the first attempt. But I know what the problem is now: I keep taking my foot off the clutch too suddenly. This is possibly because I don't rest my heel on the floor as I do it; perhaps using my heel as the fulcrum would help.

Ohh I'm so very tired, and it's making me feel ill and get over-upset about little things. And work starts again on Thursday, with the big journey to Wales on Wednesday. As a result, I'm not planning to do annnything today. I clearly need some rest and recuperation.