Hullo all. It's barely two months since I last posted - aren't you lucky! I'm trying (ha!) to read about the grain supply in fourth century Athens and its effect on politics; needless to say, telling you about how I'm avoiding doing so is far more fun.
Other things that are more fun: making cakes in the shape of daleks (pictures up as soon as I figure out how), trashing English finalists (they're all SO HAPPY - and probably SO DRUNK), etc. Less fun things: cycling into the river (yes, I really did do that), boat club/exec meetings which everyone turns up to late except, of course, me, Virgil essays.
Right. I'm going to battle with the photo uploading situation for a bit, and maybe eat some smarties. Look out for the cake picture. It is, if I do say so myself, phenomenal.
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
Bridget Jones
It has just struck me how extraordinarily like Bridget Jones' my life is at the moment. Here I am, musing about how old everyone around me seems to be getting (myself included) despite no-one actually 'growing up'. I am caught in the trap of strongly disliking my body and seemingly being incapable of doing anything about it, despite my best efforts to catalogue my (many) actions. I'm incapable of finding a job involving mutual pleasure (as in, I want to work somewhere and they want to employ me) and so on and so forth, blah blah blah.
God I complain a lot. Moany moany moany. Is this a weakness on my part or is it perfectly acceptable? I reckon its ingrained in our British psyche to disapprove of people that make a fuss. Continental folks seem to love it. But over here, we all shake our heads sadly at those who are incapable of maintaining that 'stiff upper lip', and consider it a personal failure if we aren't able to do the same ourselves. Unfortunately, we are also a culture that is obsessed with 'the self', so it feels natural and permissible to talk about things that bother us, that have happened to us and that we react and respond to - though if we are truly to be British in the Victorian sense of the word, we can only talk about the weather, the cricket and the empire. Shit, man.
So maybe it ought to be ok to be self-indulgent and moany, at least for some of the time.
I realise this post is something of a bolt from the blue - not that many posts ago I was telling you about my summer holidays and finishing mods - but I won't apologise. I've been too busy having a life to tell you all about it. (Ouch - I'm in a cruel mood today!)
Until the next time, loyal readership (ha!)
God I complain a lot. Moany moany moany. Is this a weakness on my part or is it perfectly acceptable? I reckon its ingrained in our British psyche to disapprove of people that make a fuss. Continental folks seem to love it. But over here, we all shake our heads sadly at those who are incapable of maintaining that 'stiff upper lip', and consider it a personal failure if we aren't able to do the same ourselves. Unfortunately, we are also a culture that is obsessed with 'the self', so it feels natural and permissible to talk about things that bother us, that have happened to us and that we react and respond to - though if we are truly to be British in the Victorian sense of the word, we can only talk about the weather, the cricket and the empire. Shit, man.
So maybe it ought to be ok to be self-indulgent and moany, at least for some of the time.
I realise this post is something of a bolt from the blue - not that many posts ago I was telling you about my summer holidays and finishing mods - but I won't apologise. I've been too busy having a life to tell you all about it. (Ouch - I'm in a cruel mood today!)
Until the next time, loyal readership (ha!)
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Wait.. September?
And so the summer of 2010 has passed.
What have I learned from this experience?
- Never to disregard my mother when she tells me to get a job
- Not to rely on British Summer Time providing me with ample sunshine to sell ice creams and earn a decent wage
- Not to trust banks, estate agents or indeed anyone who might ever have to handle some of your money at some point
- The Cambridge Central Library has an Ancient Greek lexicon/dictionary
- After two years spent poring over books, I now need glasses
- My family really does have an extraordinary capacity to polish off cake
It is the middle of September. A new Jewish year has begun. I have returned to the twittersphere with a resounding .. er.. I want to say crash, but actually I suppose it's more of a tapping. Would that the 'enter' key on a keyboard could be engineered to produce a satisfyingly typewriter-esque sound, eh? But to return. Since twitter has seen my triumphant retour, I decided it would only be fair to return also to the world of blog-dom. So here I am.
I must confess that my love at the moment is divided, rather unequally it is true, between Stephen Fry and Wilfred Owen. This may sound a little odd. In fact, it does sound a little odd. The two are connected, believe me. But it is rather exciting that I will be going to see Stephen Fry at the Cambridge Corn Exchange on FRIDAY, that's THIS FRIDAY, that's VERY SOON INDEED. I am absolutely dying to make some witty/charming/otherwise delightful remark to him and be rewarded with a smile from the great man himself. Or even a few choice words. What an absolute legend. In keeping with my peculiar habits, I have reread 'The Ode Less Travelled', watched a variety of clips on youtube, including the whole of 'Who Do You Think You Are', and was physically incapable of preventing myself buying 'The Fry Chronicles', the book which has precipitated all my, and indeed, his own actions. I finished it this afternoon. I don't know if it is socially acceptable to go to a book preview having already read the book in question. Perhaps I shall ask him that. However, it has made me feel very much like I have an awful lot in common with Mr Fry. How much of that is because he's actually perfectly normal, and how much is because we are both two warped individuals who happen to twist in similar directions, I do not know. But I do have immense and inordinate love for the man, which was certainly not diminished on noticing Exeter College made it into his book (albeit only briefly, and only in reference to someone he knew that went there). Still, it is gratifying to me to know that he knows such a place exists. Ooooh yes indeedy.
Ahem. Shameless loving over. Were Wilfred Owen in a position as to receive such adulation from me, I am sure I would have much to say on him, too. As it is, I'll just say WOW and leave it there. Incidentally, more kudos to SF at this point, as he is directly responsible for making me actually want to read some of WO in a capacity beyond English lessons at school. Hurrah! for such enlightenment!
Anyway, it's really time for me to stop wittering. Hopefully next time I'll have something more useful/meaningful to say.
What have I learned from this experience?
- Never to disregard my mother when she tells me to get a job
- Not to rely on British Summer Time providing me with ample sunshine to sell ice creams and earn a decent wage
- Not to trust banks, estate agents or indeed anyone who might ever have to handle some of your money at some point
- The Cambridge Central Library has an Ancient Greek lexicon/dictionary
- After two years spent poring over books, I now need glasses
- My family really does have an extraordinary capacity to polish off cake
It is the middle of September. A new Jewish year has begun. I have returned to the twittersphere with a resounding .. er.. I want to say crash, but actually I suppose it's more of a tapping. Would that the 'enter' key on a keyboard could be engineered to produce a satisfyingly typewriter-esque sound, eh? But to return. Since twitter has seen my triumphant retour, I decided it would only be fair to return also to the world of blog-dom. So here I am.
I must confess that my love at the moment is divided, rather unequally it is true, between Stephen Fry and Wilfred Owen. This may sound a little odd. In fact, it does sound a little odd. The two are connected, believe me. But it is rather exciting that I will be going to see Stephen Fry at the Cambridge Corn Exchange on FRIDAY, that's THIS FRIDAY, that's VERY SOON INDEED. I am absolutely dying to make some witty/charming/otherwise delightful remark to him and be rewarded with a smile from the great man himself. Or even a few choice words. What an absolute legend. In keeping with my peculiar habits, I have reread 'The Ode Less Travelled', watched a variety of clips on youtube, including the whole of 'Who Do You Think You Are', and was physically incapable of preventing myself buying 'The Fry Chronicles', the book which has precipitated all my, and indeed, his own actions. I finished it this afternoon. I don't know if it is socially acceptable to go to a book preview having already read the book in question. Perhaps I shall ask him that. However, it has made me feel very much like I have an awful lot in common with Mr Fry. How much of that is because he's actually perfectly normal, and how much is because we are both two warped individuals who happen to twist in similar directions, I do not know. But I do have immense and inordinate love for the man, which was certainly not diminished on noticing Exeter College made it into his book (albeit only briefly, and only in reference to someone he knew that went there). Still, it is gratifying to me to know that he knows such a place exists. Ooooh yes indeedy.
Ahem. Shameless loving over. Were Wilfred Owen in a position as to receive such adulation from me, I am sure I would have much to say on him, too. As it is, I'll just say WOW and leave it there. Incidentally, more kudos to SF at this point, as he is directly responsible for making me actually want to read some of WO in a capacity beyond English lessons at school. Hurrah! for such enlightenment!
Anyway, it's really time for me to stop wittering. Hopefully next time I'll have something more useful/meaningful to say.
Monday, 26 July 2010
Summertimes
Oh hai there. Long time no speak, etc.
I take up my .. er.. pen again on account, as usual, of boredom.
I should be translating any one of a number of Greek texts.. Pindar, Aristophanes, Euripides, Sophocles, Herodotus. But I am not. In fairness I actually have translated 50 or so lines of the Thesmophoriazusae, but it's only so funny when you have to look up every other word. Alas.
I could be selling ice cream (my summer job), but I rely on my bosses getting in touch to let me know when I'm working, and they've been surprisingly poor at that recently. You may think they would be justified, given the weather.. but actually, here in Cambridge (yes, I live in Cambridge and go to Oxford Uni. Get over it.) the weather has been pretty lush. Perfect ice cream weather, in fact.
I could be baking something. Again, in fact, there's bread in the bread maker.. basil, parmesan and sundried tomato bread, to be precise. But I'm just not inspired, and my family doesn't consume cake at the speed required for me to be able to give free rein to my creative juices. As it were.
So all in all, this summer is not turning out to be as financially lucrative, fun, or generally productive as I had hoped.
Having said that, I have made an extraordinary amount of cake in many and various shapes. I have also sold a lot of ice cream. I wish I could write that I've also translated a lot of Greek, but this is not the case. Oh well.
I have been to the BBC proms though.. and had dinner at Harvey Nichols.. and turned 20.. so stuff has definitely been occurring. But not in significant quantities to prevent me from bothering to write a blog.
Which is where you lot come in, I suppose.
Anyhoos, I suppose I should stop wallowing in self pity and do something with my life. Yes.
I'll let you know how it goes.
I take up my .. er.. pen again on account, as usual, of boredom.
I should be translating any one of a number of Greek texts.. Pindar, Aristophanes, Euripides, Sophocles, Herodotus. But I am not. In fairness I actually have translated 50 or so lines of the Thesmophoriazusae, but it's only so funny when you have to look up every other word. Alas.
I could be selling ice cream (my summer job), but I rely on my bosses getting in touch to let me know when I'm working, and they've been surprisingly poor at that recently. You may think they would be justified, given the weather.. but actually, here in Cambridge (yes, I live in Cambridge and go to Oxford Uni. Get over it.) the weather has been pretty lush. Perfect ice cream weather, in fact.
I could be baking something. Again, in fact, there's bread in the bread maker.. basil, parmesan and sundried tomato bread, to be precise. But I'm just not inspired, and my family doesn't consume cake at the speed required for me to be able to give free rein to my creative juices. As it were.
So all in all, this summer is not turning out to be as financially lucrative, fun, or generally productive as I had hoped.
Having said that, I have made an extraordinary amount of cake in many and various shapes. I have also sold a lot of ice cream. I wish I could write that I've also translated a lot of Greek, but this is not the case. Oh well.
I have been to the BBC proms though.. and had dinner at Harvey Nichols.. and turned 20.. so stuff has definitely been occurring. But not in significant quantities to prevent me from bothering to write a blog.
Which is where you lot come in, I suppose.
Anyhoos, I suppose I should stop wallowing in self pity and do something with my life. Yes.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Thursday, 1 July 2010
Hometime
Today is my last day as a resident at no.82.
For all that it is a pretty crappy student house, it's also been my home for the last year. It has seen good times, bad times, stressful times, hilarious times, mopey times, you name it really. It has played host to a variety of guests, an assortment of baked goods, a quantity of alcohol (both before and after drinking it, nice..) and so on, and so forth. Despite term ending nearly two weeks ago, I'm only the second person to leave the house - though nearly everyone else in the year has gone home for the summer already.
I spent yesterday and the day before helping at the Open Days.. three years ago, I was looking round Exeter College and falling in love with it. Now I'm being paid to make others feel the same way. Funny how the world turns.
At the moment, I'm sitting on a box of stuff in what was my room... but now it's just a room with a few bits of my stuff in it. Although I'm looking forward to going home (and I am, immensely) the finality of actually doing so means I have to confront the fact that a lot of people I have said goodbye to in the last week or so, I might not see for over a year, or possibly ever again. It's a horrible prospect. I feel like I met a lot of people this term that I now wish I had got to know better when I had the chance. I can't believe that this time last year was so long ago, but also that in another year, I really will be saying goodbye to so many more people - not just all the people in my year who will be finishing, but also everyone left in the year above.
Anyway. Enough moroseness (is that a word? Or is it morosity?). There's still packing to be done.
Later, 'gators.
For all that it is a pretty crappy student house, it's also been my home for the last year. It has seen good times, bad times, stressful times, hilarious times, mopey times, you name it really. It has played host to a variety of guests, an assortment of baked goods, a quantity of alcohol (both before and after drinking it, nice..) and so on, and so forth. Despite term ending nearly two weeks ago, I'm only the second person to leave the house - though nearly everyone else in the year has gone home for the summer already.
I spent yesterday and the day before helping at the Open Days.. three years ago, I was looking round Exeter College and falling in love with it. Now I'm being paid to make others feel the same way. Funny how the world turns.
At the moment, I'm sitting on a box of stuff in what was my room... but now it's just a room with a few bits of my stuff in it. Although I'm looking forward to going home (and I am, immensely) the finality of actually doing so means I have to confront the fact that a lot of people I have said goodbye to in the last week or so, I might not see for over a year, or possibly ever again. It's a horrible prospect. I feel like I met a lot of people this term that I now wish I had got to know better when I had the chance. I can't believe that this time last year was so long ago, but also that in another year, I really will be saying goodbye to so many more people - not just all the people in my year who will be finishing, but also everyone left in the year above.
Anyway. Enough moroseness (is that a word? Or is it morosity?). There's still packing to be done.
Later, 'gators.
Sunday, 6 June 2010
Sleeping Beauty
You may have been wondering if I dropped off the face of the (online) world lately. But I assure you I have not; I'm simply a) disorganised and b) invariably supposed to be doing more useful things than writing a blog. Ach well.
Various things to report -
1) Summer VIIIs: a washout weather-wise and bumps-wise, but then nothing was going to beat last year.
2) Various trashings: English and History have well and truly finished, as have a number of others (music, modern languages etc). This is horrifying, since it means that when I come back next year, legends such as my dear mother Hannah and my esteemed Torpids 09 captain Katy Minshall will have LEFT. And possibly Jenni 'Feel my Guns' Payne, although she might get to stay on. Fingers crossed
3) 2nd year classicists post-Mods actually have quite an obscene amount of work. Especially compared to 2nd year Medics. That said, it's been absolutely LUSH going clubbing with Laura (and to some extent, Tom) this term. Awesometimes.
4) Today is Sunday of 7th week. OH EM GEE it's nearly the end of the year. Bloody hell doesn't quite cover it. I'm not ready to be a third year!
5) Leila and Marie are my new favourite people. Legends, both.
I think that's pretty much it. If I were more organised, I would probably remember to update you all more often, but such is the way of things.
Various things to report -
1) Summer VIIIs: a washout weather-wise and bumps-wise, but then nothing was going to beat last year.
2) Various trashings: English and History have well and truly finished, as have a number of others (music, modern languages etc). This is horrifying, since it means that when I come back next year, legends such as my dear mother Hannah and my esteemed Torpids 09 captain Katy Minshall will have LEFT. And possibly Jenni 'Feel my Guns' Payne, although she might get to stay on. Fingers crossed
3) 2nd year classicists post-Mods actually have quite an obscene amount of work. Especially compared to 2nd year Medics. That said, it's been absolutely LUSH going clubbing with Laura (and to some extent, Tom) this term. Awesometimes.
4) Today is Sunday of 7th week. OH EM GEE it's nearly the end of the year. Bloody hell doesn't quite cover it. I'm not ready to be a third year!
5) Leila and Marie are my new favourite people. Legends, both.
I think that's pretty much it. If I were more organised, I would probably remember to update you all more often, but such is the way of things.
Thursday, 6 May 2010
A week later..
I had many good intentions of being very up to date and on the ball with this blog, but as you can see, things are not going so well.
However, I have been dragged back to the blogosphere once again by Nic's 'birthday' post, so I'm going to take this opportunity to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BIG GINGER to her. You can all wish her well too; I'm sure she'll appreciate it :)
My last post was about the perils of May day. Well, I am pleased to report that on our outing at 8:40 the following morning, everyone was still alive - hurrah! But at least a quarter of the boat was still drunk, and at least half was exceedingly hungover. Still, such is life. We went a-racing on Sunday at Dorney Lake (site of the rowing events for the 2012 Olympics, exciting much?!) and got thoroughly soaked in the AWFUL conditions, but came 3rd, following up the Ists boat with only a length and a half between us. Awesome times. We then returned to college and took over the JCR to eat pizza, watch Kill Bill and generally feel exhilarated/knackered.
Monday morning involved rowing again. Of course. But on the whole, it was a fairly lazy day. Tuesday was alarmingly productive; I got an awful lot of reading done, though in fairness I did shut myself in the library from half 9 through til about 4. Finalists in the library don't seem to understand the concept that other people might want to study in there too; still, it's not fair to hold it against them as I did spend all last term begrudging invasions into the little classical cubby-hole we had going on upstairs. Tuesday evening also involved rowing, and it was pretty lush - though it looks a lot like I am most definitely in the 2nd VIII again. Disappointing, but a slight to be surmounted rather than brooded over. Or so I keep reminding myself. Post-rowing, I discovered my bike had somehow ceased to function and had to walk home. Expecting to return to a house full of housemates ready to go out and get lashed, I was somewhat miffed to discover it empty (for 'somewhat', read 'very'). I had a bit of a mope and sent some ratty text messages. I felt very childish when they came home and explained that it had all been a huuuuge misunderstanding. Such is life.
Wednesday was a nothing day. I had every good intention of writing my essay, but just couldn't bring myself to work efficiently without an imminent deadline. Equally, the aforementioned library problems prevented my use of a laptop in anywhere that was not the JCR, not known for being the place most conducive to study. Things were looking fairly crap until I bumped into Emily in the evening and we went for a walk.. then I returned to college to discover my NEW PHONE had been delivered (hurrah!) and THEN found myself heading to Spoons with CC, Scott and Laurie because 'we haven't had a Pimms yet this term'. I eventually made it home at about 10, a little tipsy and much more inclined to call it a good day.
Now it's Thursday. I am actually writing my essay. I've got a self-imposed deadline of 4:30, because I'm going to the gym at 5. Afterwards, it's off to college for the Election Night special - huzzah! I voted Lib Dem and I'm not afraid to say it - but in my home constituency, which is South Cambs, any vote that isn't Tory is a wasted vote. So there you have it. My life, as of the last week.
I like to think that updates will become more frequent (and therefore also shorter) in the future as I'll have a phone that is always connected to t'internet. But don't hold your breath..
However, I have been dragged back to the blogosphere once again by Nic's 'birthday' post, so I'm going to take this opportunity to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BIG GINGER to her. You can all wish her well too; I'm sure she'll appreciate it :)
My last post was about the perils of May day. Well, I am pleased to report that on our outing at 8:40 the following morning, everyone was still alive - hurrah! But at least a quarter of the boat was still drunk, and at least half was exceedingly hungover. Still, such is life. We went a-racing on Sunday at Dorney Lake (site of the rowing events for the 2012 Olympics, exciting much?!) and got thoroughly soaked in the AWFUL conditions, but came 3rd, following up the Ists boat with only a length and a half between us. Awesome times. We then returned to college and took over the JCR to eat pizza, watch Kill Bill and generally feel exhilarated/knackered.
Monday morning involved rowing again. Of course. But on the whole, it was a fairly lazy day. Tuesday was alarmingly productive; I got an awful lot of reading done, though in fairness I did shut myself in the library from half 9 through til about 4. Finalists in the library don't seem to understand the concept that other people might want to study in there too; still, it's not fair to hold it against them as I did spend all last term begrudging invasions into the little classical cubby-hole we had going on upstairs. Tuesday evening also involved rowing, and it was pretty lush - though it looks a lot like I am most definitely in the 2nd VIII again. Disappointing, but a slight to be surmounted rather than brooded over. Or so I keep reminding myself. Post-rowing, I discovered my bike had somehow ceased to function and had to walk home. Expecting to return to a house full of housemates ready to go out and get lashed, I was somewhat miffed to discover it empty (for 'somewhat', read 'very'). I had a bit of a mope and sent some ratty text messages. I felt very childish when they came home and explained that it had all been a huuuuge misunderstanding. Such is life.
Wednesday was a nothing day. I had every good intention of writing my essay, but just couldn't bring myself to work efficiently without an imminent deadline. Equally, the aforementioned library problems prevented my use of a laptop in anywhere that was not the JCR, not known for being the place most conducive to study. Things were looking fairly crap until I bumped into Emily in the evening and we went for a walk.. then I returned to college to discover my NEW PHONE had been delivered (hurrah!) and THEN found myself heading to Spoons with CC, Scott and Laurie because 'we haven't had a Pimms yet this term'. I eventually made it home at about 10, a little tipsy and much more inclined to call it a good day.
Now it's Thursday. I am actually writing my essay. I've got a self-imposed deadline of 4:30, because I'm going to the gym at 5. Afterwards, it's off to college for the Election Night special - huzzah! I voted Lib Dem and I'm not afraid to say it - but in my home constituency, which is South Cambs, any vote that isn't Tory is a wasted vote. So there you have it. My life, as of the last week.
I like to think that updates will become more frequent (and therefore also shorter) in the future as I'll have a phone that is always connected to t'internet. But don't hold your breath..
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