Neptune Towers

Craig made a swift exit on Sunday evening, I dropped him over to Leeds for the next floor he is destined to sleep on for a while. I on the other hand, filled my remaining time in York with a meeting with my group about their presentations, which basically turned into a trip to the pub after a few jokes at my expense. I had to look after John's bunch as well (Team Lady), he engineered it so that, rather than face them again, he took off to a hermitage in Germany for three months. That man has no back bone. They are only girls, John, they don't bite. The discussion with Team Lady seemed to centre around one of the girl's friends who was having a crisis in her relationship; namely which of two fellas she liked the most, and me telling them all about the remains we found at the Barbican centre over a year ago. After this padding out of general knowledge to make it look like I wasn't taking the piss and getting paid for a full days work after only having done an hour and a half, I was chatting to Cath. She was saying that Matt hadn't done nearly half as much recording as he had said he had and she would have to go back on site over the next couple of evenings and finish off. In a moment of absolute insanity I said 'Would you like me to do it? I'm finished here and have nothing else to do.' So that's how I found myself alone back on the site drawing three sections and three plans and one large profile of a V Shaped Roman enclosure ditch. Mind you, what would have taken Cath three days to complete I finished in two hours. A minor achievement on my part.

I went to see Star Trek yesterday with Aleisha and Emlyn, here's the review: Meh.

Star Trek: it's not Star Wars

On Sunday morning I awoke to find Cleo the cat screeching like a banshee at me. She seemed to be hungry so I opened a fresh food sachet for her and fed her. As I put the remaining half of the bag in the fridge, I noticed another already opened. In a discussion later with Craig it seems he had opened this and fed Cleo half of it an hour before I awoke. The little shit, she must have been rubbing her paws together thinking 'ha, check out these two tards, if I pretend to be hungry they'll keep feeding me.' I told Craig we should feed her til she bursts to teach her a lesson. When Craig left, Cleo realised that I was the only gateway she had to food. Her lack of opposable thumbs was making it difficult for her to use the tin opener. She set about building bridges with me. I have not been her greatest fan since the other day when she took a chunk out of my cheek for stroking her. She tried everything she could to get food out of me over the next two days. Sitting on my lap, climbing on the chair beside me, pawing at my arm. To which she got the reply 'fuck off and hunt a mouse or something. You're a cat, do what cats do.'

Cleo, trying to work out what cats do.