Oh dear. A little corner of the web devoted to rants, raves, and odes of Daniel Flynn. Yes, that’s right, odes. I’m sure I can find something to write an ode about.

Let’s start out, though, with some “me” stuff… for people who read this blog and don’t know me. If you are one of these people, by the way, you’re just plain fucking weird. Get off my blog. That’s right, X button. Up top. Clicky click.

The first thing you need to know about me is that I’m currently at war with my router. Despite the fact that we already live on the edge of the Croydon exchange, which makes our internet shitty enough as it is, the pile-of-crap router decides to spontaneously go nuts about 4 times a day. I’ve spent an alarming number of Wednesday nights this year with an incredibly faggy cocktail in one hand (usually including umbrella) kicking and screeching at said router that it’ll never be loved… as if I can actually depress the thing into functioning properly. Why Wednesdays? Because my physics lab was on Wednesday afternoons, and the report due the following day at noon. Hence the alcohol, and the necessity for functioning internet.

Speaking of physics, though, I might as well tell you all what it is I do. I study science at the University of Melbourne, and their *held at gunpoint* wonderful New Generation courses dictate that if I want to insist people call me “Doctor” at parties, I need to spend another six-and-a-half years as a student. Sigh.

“Science” is not really a good enough description to relay my academic interests. At least not for people who spend < 3 hours a day with a pram, cigarette, can of Jim Beam, and explosive anger towards the father of their spawn at Ringwood station. What I really do is maths and physics, with a passing interest in chemistry. It’s hard to decide what to continue on with next year; maths is the current favourite, but it’s hard to accept the idea of spending the rest of my life theorising and proving abstract ideas that will only come in handy to society years after I perish (if at all). That’s pretty much what higher-level pure maths is these days. So instead, I think I’ll major in “mathematical physics”, then go back for a diploma in real maths, take 6 months off and the continue on with physics again. Maybe study nuclear physics. Just… you know… solve the world’s power problems by perfecting nuclear fusion, or maybe by inventing a ZPM. It’d be purple. Fuck orange.

I love being a student. It’s like, I’m only really happy, and only feel alive, when I have too much to do and don’t understand all of what’s going on. Which is definitely the case. And yet I keep writing blog. Meh.

But yes. That’s not the only perk to being a student. Concession cards, pub crawls, coffee and the daily competition: who can buy the cheapest lunch. Personally, I’ve narrowed it down to a 45 cent giant apple from Queen Vic Market. But if you’re actually hungry, then I thoroughly recommend a Miso Soup from that tiny Japanese shop between Boost and the Crepe place at Melbourne Central. Two bucks. Party in my pants. It’s my blog, I’ll say what I want to.

Food. One of the best things in the world. I think I enjoy food more than most other people do. Just the sensation of eating - I find it awesome. And there’s only two things I won’t eat: liquorice and veal. One because of the gross taste, one because it’s tied-up baby cows. Oh, I’m also not so big on spicy food.

Lately, I’ve fallen in love with muesli and yoghurt. With strawberries and cranberries. I’ve also developed an addiction to apricot nectar —> weird, I know. But try it. You might be surprised.

Before I take my leave to finish copying out my notes on vector calculus for no reason, and try to ram 5 litres of pumpkin soup into the freezer, I will mention one other thing about me. I can’t sing. I mean I can’t sing at all. But that sure as fuck doesn’t stop me. Just so you know.