Aftermath
A Slightly Inadequate Report on the Weekend
My mind feels like it has disintegrated into a thousand million pieces and that I have failed to reconstitute them into a working sentient mass.
Paris wasn't Paris. It was Lesigny. Not that I actually ventured beyond chateau's walls. I didn't. We sort of lived in a hermetically sealed quizzing cocoon for the whole weekend, which was fine by me. I don't want no civilians around when I'm answering quiz questions (a very bad paraphrase there from Bill Hicks and his Gays in the Military routine).
I want to write more, but forgive me if this too disjointed (Burroughsian cut-up gangsta wazz). I'm ultra-tired and running on empty. I'm living in a kind of twilight zone, where eyes are heavy and the fatigue makes me slightly emotional. This is me before I get to do more work. My employers want rejigging with da copy. Well, to be honest I had no idea what they wanted in the first place, so I am grateful for the clarification. I would have slept yesterday, but I went to Chris's birthday meal (he's a great mate ... he gave me £20 and told sick jokes) in the LA Italian last night, got slightly smashed on white wine, went straight to bed, got up at 4 because I couldn't sleep and descended the stairs to watch the awful carnage of the Adelaide Ashes Test unfold on TV. Ye gods. Why did even I bother? It was the most depressing thing I've seen in years. So after the staggering capitulation I went to bed for three more hours. Then, reveille and back to the capital. Another train journey. I'm so low on energy that I am incapable of reading anything for longer than ten minutes. I'm only getting snatches of shut-eye, which is not good for me. I'm thinking about spending the whole of today in bed. Though I might go to the Pamflet party. Feminism can be cool and interesting and propounded by glamsters who don't look like Andrea Dworkin. Er, not that it can't be. I'll stop now
My Placings:
5th (table competition) and 7th (total score) in the individuals - an unbelievably awful barrage of silly, careless errors, however. Crossing out Buddha and putting Dalai Lama for one. Aargh.
4th in the Pairs with Stainer (we blew second with an inept final fourth round - Armenia? Bollox)
3rd in the team competition. We were called Les Coeurs Blesses (screw the accent or grave??) because we added indiv-3rd placed Lieden in our side.
2nd in the Estonian quiz (I enjoyed that one most of all ... ah, no chess or basketball ... though I actually wrote a quiz league match during it ... maybe the distraction helped)
2nd= in the outrageous Dutch music quiz (Antonia's Line not Anita's Line ... bugger)
Finally: Runners-up in the international team final. Yes, the remorseless machine of Team Belgium steamrollered us in the final 3-point round. We were so naive. So pragmatic. We had no real idea about reading the cryptic subject titles. I wrote "bad choice" in my notebook on quite a few occasions after we found the subject - most egrediously "River Isle" - to be near impossible, even for Kevin and Pat. Why didn't we choose the subjects that were linked by the common first letter for artists (L) and composers (F). Frankly, we just didn't know. We only do this format one weekend a year, which is astonishing when we think about it. Superior tactics always makes a difference in the points totals. Therefore we should do our level best to practice every GP in the "International Style".
Regrets? I have a brand new bag of them. I was livid with myself for not getting Blossom from the Powerpuff Girls, Smashing Pumpkins (wait, I thought, that's Jimmy Chamberlain if it's them ... uh, wrong) and Alain Bombard (a bloody question in my Lulu book - dagrabbit). But the week was already getting on top of me. Pounding me into tiredness. Practically no sleep and too much travel: trains, planes and cars. Lost a £59 tie along the way. Staring at the sea below and the cancer of human inhabitation cover the land. And still, I haven't stopped. I think I may have temporary narcolepsy. There you go: I'm repeating myself and I hardly notice.
Mood
Yes, I am more irritable than normal. Exhaustion does that to you. I also feel slightly nauseous. I think I need a fag outside and watch the clouds rush under the full moon. Which NATURALLY will make me feel better.
Very Brief QLL note
Ah, returned to QLL too. Good old questions about heraldry and bridge. Heraldry and bloody bridge. Grrrowl. It was like regressing to kindergarten from A-Levels. Suffice to say, we won. Beating Aldersgate.
My mind feels like it has disintegrated into a thousand million pieces and that I have failed to reconstitute them into a working sentient mass.
Paris wasn't Paris. It was Lesigny. Not that I actually ventured beyond chateau's walls. I didn't. We sort of lived in a hermetically sealed quizzing cocoon for the whole weekend, which was fine by me. I don't want no civilians around when I'm answering quiz questions (a very bad paraphrase there from Bill Hicks and his Gays in the Military routine).
I want to write more, but forgive me if this too disjointed (Burroughsian cut-up gangsta wazz). I'm ultra-tired and running on empty. I'm living in a kind of twilight zone, where eyes are heavy and the fatigue makes me slightly emotional. This is me before I get to do more work. My employers want rejigging with da copy. Well, to be honest I had no idea what they wanted in the first place, so I am grateful for the clarification. I would have slept yesterday, but I went to Chris's birthday meal (he's a great mate ... he gave me £20 and told sick jokes) in the LA Italian last night, got slightly smashed on white wine, went straight to bed, got up at 4 because I couldn't sleep and descended the stairs to watch the awful carnage of the Adelaide Ashes Test unfold on TV. Ye gods. Why did even I bother? It was the most depressing thing I've seen in years. So after the staggering capitulation I went to bed for three more hours. Then, reveille and back to the capital. Another train journey. I'm so low on energy that I am incapable of reading anything for longer than ten minutes. I'm only getting snatches of shut-eye, which is not good for me. I'm thinking about spending the whole of today in bed. Though I might go to the Pamflet party. Feminism can be cool and interesting and propounded by glamsters who don't look like Andrea Dworkin. Er, not that it can't be. I'll stop now
My Placings:
5th (table competition) and 7th (total score) in the individuals - an unbelievably awful barrage of silly, careless errors, however. Crossing out Buddha and putting Dalai Lama for one. Aargh.
4th in the Pairs with Stainer (we blew second with an inept final fourth round - Armenia? Bollox)
3rd in the team competition. We were called Les Coeurs Blesses (screw the accent or grave??) because we added indiv-3rd placed Lieden in our side.
2nd in the Estonian quiz (I enjoyed that one most of all ... ah, no chess or basketball ... though I actually wrote a quiz league match during it ... maybe the distraction helped)
2nd= in the outrageous Dutch music quiz (Antonia's Line not Anita's Line ... bugger)
Finally: Runners-up in the international team final. Yes, the remorseless machine of Team Belgium steamrollered us in the final 3-point round. We were so naive. So pragmatic. We had no real idea about reading the cryptic subject titles. I wrote "bad choice" in my notebook on quite a few occasions after we found the subject - most egrediously "River Isle" - to be near impossible, even for Kevin and Pat. Why didn't we choose the subjects that were linked by the common first letter for artists (L) and composers (F). Frankly, we just didn't know. We only do this format one weekend a year, which is astonishing when we think about it. Superior tactics always makes a difference in the points totals. Therefore we should do our level best to practice every GP in the "International Style".
Regrets? I have a brand new bag of them. I was livid with myself for not getting Blossom from the Powerpuff Girls, Smashing Pumpkins (wait, I thought, that's Jimmy Chamberlain if it's them ... uh, wrong) and Alain Bombard (a bloody question in my Lulu book - dagrabbit). But the week was already getting on top of me. Pounding me into tiredness. Practically no sleep and too much travel: trains, planes and cars. Lost a £59 tie along the way. Staring at the sea below and the cancer of human inhabitation cover the land. And still, I haven't stopped. I think I may have temporary narcolepsy. There you go: I'm repeating myself and I hardly notice.
Mood
Yes, I am more irritable than normal. Exhaustion does that to you. I also feel slightly nauseous. I think I need a fag outside and watch the clouds rush under the full moon. Which NATURALLY will make me feel better.
Very Brief QLL note
Ah, returned to QLL too. Good old questions about heraldry and bridge. Heraldry and bloody bridge. Grrrowl. It was like regressing to kindergarten from A-Levels. Suffice to say, we won. Beating Aldersgate.
posted by That Quiz Guy at 5:16 PM
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