Day 17 + HOMETIME

Ladies and Gentlespoons, I had hoped that I would be too busy like, talking to my family and being welcomed home n'shit to blog to you all today, but alas, this is not the case. I am sat on my bed in my room. My brother is sat at his computer in his room. My father is sat at his computer in the kitchen. And my mother is bustling about in a grump because no-one is capable of doing anything without full written instructions, and she has a poorly horse. (My sister has gone to bed, so, y'know, that's ok). 


I spent the morning in the library - got there at 8.45, a PB. I feel like I haven't actually done that much of use but I have done a lot of consolidating, and tbh I'm not toooo worried about my Roman history. I think I can devote a bit of time to it in Trinity and really nail it then. I do really need to look at Caesar though. Hmmmm. Becky turned up and we had a whispered angry conversation about Christian Concern and how we disagree with them. They were  making video testimonials all day today. I find it quite upsetting that there are going to be sweeping shots of college and so on in these things. They make it look like the place is theirs when it isn't. Ugh. There's a 'diversity' party happening tonight in the MCR but as Andrew said, it's a bit of a joke - people are turning up to support the cause now that's its become a drinking opportunity, but when it was meetings, and when it counted, nobody gave two flying rats' arses. 


Apparently the Rector was in Japan recently when a sign blew down in the wind and fell across her face, taking the tip of her nose off. Now that's sad and I hope she is all right, but I am choosing to consider this karmically significant and I feel vindicated. Here endeth *that* lesson. 


Had a beautiful sunny lunch on the quad with Andrew, Adam and Jean-Michel, who has turned up just in time for me to go away. Adam bought Ben + Jerry's (HALF PRICE WIN) which made it even better. Also I deliberately sat on the floor and in the way so the Christians would have to walk round me to get to lunch. Small gestures. 


I managed to make myself stay in the library til about half 2, and then I packed up my stuff and lugged my (enormous) suitcase to Gloucester Green. 3+ hours on the X5 (and a bit of tomfoolery from my inept but lovable -mostly- brother) later, I arrived home. More tomfoolery and ineptitude was in evidence and we didn't eat til nearly 8pm. The day was saved because when we did eat, it was fishballs. YES. 


Typically, there was no duvet on my bed. I mean, I know I have taken my duvet to Ox. But we do have spares, and I did remind my mum several days ago. Her reasoning was that she had planned to sort it out yesterday but then her horse had got ill so she had to go straight out, and she forgot to tell the boys to do it today because she was running late, and they are too useless to think of it themselves. Oh, and she was out this evening because she had to go see her horse and then go to a lecture on horses. And then *I* get into trouble because I took both my duvet covers to Oxford with me, so I can, you know, wash them and stuff, but I only own two and therefore *another one, good lord, how is that reasonable* has to be found and that's somehow my fault. Anyway. It's all sorted now. But what a bloody palaver. It is sad and stressful that horsey is ill. But I have only come home for a bit, my parents are going to be away for most of it, and I would like some attention, please. Please? 

Day XVI

Failed at blogging yesterday as I inadvertently got quite drunk. Soz, all. Didn't do an awful lot during the day, as I recall, so not much lost. In brief summary - I spent the morning busy-bee-ing away with Gaius Caligula (remember him? He's the one that is supposed to have made a horse a senator) but he didn't survive past his 5th year as Emperor so not long after lunch I was all finished with him. I desperately tried to force myself to do something else but just couldn't, what with the sunshine and the boredom and everything else. So I faffed around for a while, went window shopping and chatted to people on the quad. Chris Probert (head porter) gave me a Wilberforce Academy (they're the Christian Concern umbrella group) programme for their stay. One of their talks was called 'Facing the Challenge of Islam'. I mean, really. I made fajitas with Michael in the JCR kitchen in the evening which was grand. I <3 Michael. I think people can rarely be bothered to see past the madnosity but he's such a love. And mad as a sackful of badgers, obvs. 


Leila and I went to the pub in the evening to join in with Chris' birthday drinks. I hadn't intended to drink much or stay late (after all, I'm only getting poorer and the library is a demanding mistress) but unfortunately I failed on both counts. People just kept buying me drinks! It was great. I'm not sure why I agreed to go to the Purple Turtle as well and disgrace myself at table football, but I did. Chris looked a bit peaky by the time we left, bless. I don't think the Sambuca shots helped. Didn't get to bed til 2am, so I thought I'd do the sensible thing and not set an alarm - but of course, woke up at 8am feeling rather the worse for wear. 


Powered through the morning feeling a bit sorry for myself but managed to hold out until the hangover cleared up around lunchtime. Ate in the Fellows' Garden with Jess and CC, because CC is going on holiday tomorrow and I am off home tomorrow too. Judging by how ill Jess has been for the last few days I think she might go home as well, though that wasn't her plan. Saw Ella at lunchtime, too - Mods results came out today. All the 2nd years did fine; Ella was obviously miffed because she'd just missed out on a first. She told me she had quoted me (I gave her my revision notes) in one of her papers and I wasn't sure if she was joking or not... 


Devoted this afternoon to Claudius but couldn't make myself reread two books of Tacitus, so I had dinner and watched an episode of I, Claudius instead. Aaand then I watched another one. SO GOOD. I have also packed a rather hefty bag of stuff to take home tomorrow. I'm sooooo excited about having some time off. HOORAY!


Next time I communicate with you it will be from the flatlands of East Anglia. Cambridge is calling. Over and out. 

Day.. er..

Didn't post yesterday as even though I was home at a reasonable hour, my effing computer had gone and switched itself into 'unresponsive' mode. I wonder if it's going through some hormonal issues at the moment or something because it is behaving not unlike a fifteen year old. Hopefully it'll grow out of it soon. It is quite old, bless it. Maybe it has Alzheimer's. 


Yesterday was the day of The Protest - the Wilberforce Academy (umbrella organisation under which Christian Concern shelters) conference guests were all arriving. College was basically on lockdown, much to the chagrin of Paul the Porter, since nothing particularly riotous or exciting was happening. On the few occasions I interacted with anyone, it all seemed very peaceful and good-natured. Which is nice. What's less nice is how the guests are literally EVERYWHERE. There are unbelievable numbers of them. There are so many, in fact, that some are staying on Staircase 9, where we at least hoped that we would be safe, since it's normally considered too grotty to host guests. Alas no. Jess texted me in high dudgeon yesterday evening to say one had come and knocked on her door - she's on a corridor with one either side of her and no other college people. More than one person has said they are a noisy bunch and that they don't seem to have gathered that they are sharing the premises with students. Grrrr. Andrew has also said some of them are fit. I suppose that would be one way to ensure they don't come back next year... being preyed on by a lascivious German finalist. 


I also ate the tastiest macaroons in the history of ever yesterday from the chocolate fair. SO GOOD. And then I went back to the fair later with Rachel and we had churros and chocolate. I also met the new boyf. Based on our brief interaction, he seems nice. He is taller than Rach so that is definitely a start. 


I went to Stapes for a bbq yesterday evening - the garden there is so pleasing. Also so nice to have a bbq in March. Granted it was a bit on the chilly side by 8pm but we were determined to enjoy ourselves and we only went inside so that other people could bbq after us. Dan started improvising songs. They were pretty hilarious. It's good to be back on friendly terms again. After we left, I took a detour to Exeter House to nab a cup of tea courtesy of Tom and Adam and also to pick up a recipe book I had left there. I left the kitchen for under five minutes and on my return, made suspicious by the giggling and door-slamming, I checked my handbag. It was full of dried pasta. Hi-larious. I threw it at them, in the best traditions of a woman who knows how to keep her cool and respond elegantly to any situation. 


Today I have mostly been in the library. I'm actually writing this from the library now. It's 8.40pm. ARGH. I think it's my home time. I am undecided as to whether to watch an episode of I, Claudius. Given that I'm now doing that period of Roman history, it might feel a little bit too much like revision. Hmmm.

Day 12

Massive coup when I got a reply via twitter from the author of the Guardian article about Christian Concern. Felt vindicated.


(am adopting Bridget-Jones-esque style as have today travelled in an open top car and nearly  lost my scarf. No Hugh Grant in sight but can't have it all).


Alcoholic beverages: at least 2; hours in library: 3; hours spent in sun: 6+, no. pheasants spotted: 4, likelihood of sunburn: 78%


Jess, CC and I had said we should go to Blenheim Palace for a long time, so it was SO NICE that we actually made it happen and even got Reynoldson and Tom along too. And even better that they drove in Tom's (hilarious) Micra, leaving the girls to revel in the joys of the convertible. Granted I felt a bit like some sort of sea monster with my hair-tendrils waving in my face on the faster roads, but as CC pointed out, there was no alteration in frizz-level. It'll take a lot more than *that* to make my hair big, sister. We had a picnic, by a lake, with Asti and nice bread and strawberries and houmous and similar delights, and then we went for an extended walk around the grounds. It was unbelievably sunny. Jess and I were both in dresses and it was great not to have to wear tights - I only kept my scarf on to avoid turning into a lobster. It was so nice to be away from Oxford, even for just half a day. We even drove into Woodstock when we left the grounds and had a drink in a pub there, and then spent the evening watching questionable television. Now it's bed time and I'm absolutely exhausted, but in a sun, activity and freedom way, rather than a sedentary, post-library, 'my brain is tired but my body is awake' kind of way.


I will need my wits about me tomorrow as I alternately tackle the forces of Latin C1st literature and evangelical homophobia, so g'night all. 

Day 11 - but more specifically, Christian Concern

I could write some introductory banalities - I already did and deleted them, in fact - but I don't want to detract from the main bulk of this post, because it is quite a serious one. Chat about picnics, Horace and ducks will not be appearing. 


Had a great chat this evening with Andrew and Fynn on the quad. We were talking about the imminent arrival of the conference being held at Exeter by Christian Concern, a super-evangelical group which advocates (among other things) conversion therapy for homosexuals. This term has seen quite a furore about the situation because, quite frankly, it's not fair for the governing body of College to allow people to stay who hold views which are not only abhorrent but are also likely to have a negative effect on the mental state of the students. This secondary point is the more relevant for college in this instance, I think. One can chirrup merrily away about free speech and conclude that, yes, I suppose, people are allowed to say whatever they like, even if their views are offensive. College is a place which is used as a conference venue, and is as much a home of free speech as any other. 


BUT. College is a place which its students consider their home, and where they expect to feel safe. It is a place where fragile people come out of their shells and accept who they are and how they relate to others. Many many people come out at university. University is viewed as an environment of acceptance, trust and support. Exeter doesn't just stop being part of the university of Oxford when term ends, especially not when Hilary term ends and all the Finalists (lit. - very stressed people) stay up in order to revise. Introducing a group of people who dogmatically oppose the acceptance espoused by the very nature of the university at what many people feel is a crucial time is a stress that we ought not to have to deal with. Yadda yadda yadda, free speech applies everywhere, etc etc. That's all very well, in theory. Yet for a university with such a strong commitment to academic excellence (and for a College which thinks it's going the same way) it just seems absolutely ludicrous that it didn't occur to anyone the effect this might have on the people they ought least to want it to affect. Andrew said earlier he was nervous about them coming. I'm a bit nervous about them coming. I'm sure there are plenty of others who feel the same.


What is most frustrating in all of this is the obfuscation of the issue by the Rector, which flies in the face of what every other Fellow of the College thinks, and the sheer apathy of every member of the JCR who is too blinkered to see that this affects them too. We all have gay friends here. I don't understand why we aren't standing up for them. 


My rage at the Rector knows increasingly fewer bounds. She still thinks that everyone in college is as clued up on the subject as the few who bother to turn up to meetings about it are. When the story first broke in the OxStu (the slightly classier - if there can be such a thing - student newspaper) she sent an email round to the JCR which effectively said nothing. After a meeting, attended by the College's gay community, the JCR president and secretary, and me (but open to the whole JCR...) I mentioned that no-one that hadn't had it from the horse's mouth knew exactly what was going on. She agreed that she should sent around an email of clarification. A week later, I emailed to remind her. She finally did, and put a message up on the College website, but I still don't feel it's really done the trick. It's also been in the Daily Mail (I added my comment...). 


For the Rector, the issue is not one of free speech, or concern for her students. It is purely fiscal. Even after all this palaver (and that after nearly four years here) she still hasn't got a clue who I am, because I've never shown an interest in a career in the city, and I don't attend any networking-type events. Since I've been here, my interest has been for museums, teaching and academia - all (comparatively) low paid jobs. She'll never make any money out of me so I'm not worth her getting to know. She is a cash-oriented machine of a woman, who thinks she understands what makes the world turn. Unfortunately, the more people there are who think like her, the more the system will come to be valued only in cash-terms, and the more groups like Christian Concern will be invited in to gain some extra funds. The students will always be the second-class citizens in such a system. I'm sure that's not how it's supposed to work... 


There will be a protest taking place on Sunday in Turl Street. Come and wave a flag about and feel virtuous. But be nice to the porters. 

Day 10

Given that I had one of those dreams where you dream that you've woken up late and everything is terrible, then woke up twenty minutes before my alarm, and was just lapsing into a horrific Groundhog Day-style rerun of the same dream when my alarm actually DID go off, it's been an incredibly productive day. I don't think that sentence makes sense so if you can untangle it coherently then you win a prize. I have cake + brownies left over. 


I bounded to the library (well... possibly a strong way of putting it) and picked my location. By which I mean I sat on the same desk I've been at all vac. I really like being early into the library because I can make the space my own, kick off my shoes without disturbing people, etc etc. Absolutely rinsed some Catullus and was just contemplating a break when Jess turned up. We had a half an hour stint in the Fellows' Garden before a return to the library. It was so lush outside today that we had to open the windows (necessitating raising the blind in order to avoid an unfortunate sail-like effect) AND turn off the radiator. Why the radiators are left on is beyond me. I suppose College has to justify charging us an extra £300 overhead per term somehow. 


I had lunch with Rachel. She appreciated the gift of brownies and cake, as I knew she would. I think her mum will appreciate the gift, also. She says Rach is getting too skinny. Mission: accepted, I say. 


After a good few hours beasting through Virgil's Eclogues (full of excellent lines and also many, many MANY names for trees) I decided to break the monotony and do something radical, so I went for a RUN. That's right. An actual, factual run. Not a very long one, it's true. But a run nonetheless. Haven't done that since Michaelmas term. Mmmmhmmmm. There were lots of punts on the river, which meant there were fewer moorhens about, but I did see an excellent push-me-pull-you goose, ie two geese standing in such a way as to make them look like one goose with a head at both ends. 


I went back to the library after a shower feeling rather pink in the face (and not without cause...) where I duelled with Cicero and his incessant superlatives. Then I had dinner and watched the University Challenge final. I also ate some cake. It really is a tasty one, and I do say so myself. No ifs about it. 


I have also washed my hair. Hooray! I don't know if Emily just moulted on me a lot at the weekend and it's stayed there, or whether my hair is going darker, but I pulled out an awful lot of almost black hairs. Perhaps all the reading of Ovid has got to me and Emily and I have begun to metamorphose into each other, or possibly one and the same being. Namily Fagelmercer. Or something. 


I think I'm going to watch an episode of I, Claudius and go to bed. Oooooh yeah. 

Day 9

Just been watching The Apprentice. I hope I never end up at a stage where I think I could go on that programme. I would definitely be the one at the back that didn't say much and then got all defensive about it in the boardroom. I would probably cry. I would have to try and win Alan Sugar over with promises of chicken soup and lokshen just like mamma used to make. I suspect he would not be compliant. 


ANYway. Today I bounced merrily off to the library knowing that I would be going through my file, and therefore not having to read Latin. My mission took me a lot longer than I thought, however, since I was still going long beyond lunchtime. I had a lovely chat with Emily via mobile telecommunication device over luncheon, so zat was nice. When I finally finished dealing with the last remnants of Ovid, circa 3.30pm, I made a valiant effort to return to my room with all my Ovid books and take all my Latin Core ones down. Then I tried to read Catullus 64. Needless to say, I did not get very far. I barely made it to 4.30 before I had flounced back to my room, intending to work out recipe quantities and go to Tesco for baking ingredients. On my way out of college I stopped to check my pidge, which I haven't done for days, and found a WEDDING INVITATION there. Phenomenality and joy abound. I was so surprised and pleased (it's a long story..) that I bounced all the way to Tesco and I had to call someone just so I didn't explode. Emily didn't pick up so I rang home instead. It took me a good five minutes to decide whether I was speaking to my dad or my brother (eventually I worked out it was my dad) but yes, HOORAY! I bought all my ingredients and bounced back to the JCR. 


The JCR kitchen was surprisingly clean, apart from the large (yet neatly-stacked) pile of washing up. However, it was an absolute mish to work out how to turn the blaaahdy ovens on. Managed to get one working eventually so I made my brownies in that one while I prepared my strawberries and cream cake mixture. It's a recipe I hadn't tried before so I was hoping that it wouldn't let me down (the recipe book makes the original with peaches, but suggests varying the fruit). I can say with great delight that it was phenomenal, so thank you Edd Kimber, Boy Who Bakes. Here is a picture I took on my phone:

Omnomnomnomnom. Andrew turned up just as I was finishing (to be fair to him he had come down earlier and accompanied me while I baked) and we had the inaugural slices. Max Fletcher, the ineffable, hilarious, suavely-booted English student, cunningly invited himself over to sample both varieties of baked treats. He said 'have you ever thought about a career as a baker?' to which I replied that I had. I think this surprised him a little. One does not meet that many classicists intending on entering the foodie world. Having said that, the only wannabe pastry chef I ever met was a classicist. Most odd. Adam and Alice took up my invitation to swing by for brownies and then CC and Jess came over and lo and behold, the Apprentice. Reynoldson turned up just in time to eat some brownie and  watch half an hour before he shot off on a 'date'. Andrew minced in at one point with his tote bag, saying he was orf to Sainsbury's. A thoroughly sociable evening. 

Also, Jess quite rightly pointed out to me via twitter (even though we were sat next to each other in the library) that otters are not in fact rodents. We had to look up what they were and discovered they actually belong to the weasel family, also comprising polecats and such the like. So there you go. Otters are mustelids. Boom. I wish that wasn't the new thing I have learned today. 

Tomorrow is a new day, with a new topic. In the immortal words of Mr Darcy (but only in the BBC adaptation) 'I shall conquer this. I shall!'

Days 7-8

Today I was casually browsing Twitter (as one does when the only alternative is Ovid) and I discovered that David Mitchell has got engaged. I <3 David Mitchell so I am very happy that he is happy, but at the same time, a tiny little bit of me is very sad. I think we would get on well. I think I am increasingly eschewing appearance and focussing on personality (and brain). Even the pictures of Benedict Cumberbatch and otters that CC hilariously posted on my facebook yesterday cannot put me off him. He's just so goddam clever, and also lovely. This is why I am not attracted to footballers or indeed most sports personalities, but I do like comedians, actors who like a bit of Shakespeare, and *proper* musicians. Here are those otters for you:

Well. There we have it. Otters. Suggestions for other funny animals that famous people look like = well received. Examples may include (but need not be limited to) Brian Blessed and a bear, or Eric Pickles and an elephant. 

Yesterday evening a bunch of us congregated in the JCR (ie me, Andrew, Jess, CC and Rennie) where we played Articulate. Andrew and I started off behind but snuck in front to clinch a resounding victory. We are a good team. Then we started reading the cards for the game straight down. Obviously when you are playing the game, you are only looking at the things in the category you are supposed to be explaining, but if you actually read a whole card then you realise how ridiculous they are. And especially so if you read them as if they were connected. 'Jean Paul Gaultier', 'a gymslip'  'a passion fruit' and 'oscillating'. Sounds a bit poetic/surreal. Andrew and I were practically in hysterics over them but the rest of them didn't think it was that funny. Perhaps our victory had gone to our heads. What's worrying is that it was only Monday and we were behaving like absolute lunatics. How bad will it be by the time we get to Friday?! Not that days of the week have any meaning, as such. They are all spent in the library. But some days of the week (lit. the weekends) are more stressful than others, because there are more people around should one need to venture outside of college. And there are more tourists. Damn those tourists. 

I had a moomoos (that's a milkshake from the Covered Market in central Ox) today. It was Raspberry and Flake flavoured. It was delish, and delectable to sit outside and drink it and watch the ducks struggle to get out of the pond in the Fellows' Garden, but not a delight to be enjoyed too often. It was nice to see Adam and Alice though, so that's alrighty. What am I saying, I had a grand lunchtime. 

ZOMG I just checked Twitter and the QI elves have posted the otters/Benedict Cumberbatch link. WHAT IS THIS?! That's the third time it's come up in the last two days. Jeeeeez people. So the man has some expressions that are occasionally similar to a water rodent. I'm sure many people do. Get over it. 

I also just finished watching the third Dirk Gently episode. I've really enjoyed this series - I hope there are more. Dirk Gently is a bit like Doctor Who, but without special powers, and a lot more annoying. Weeell... I don't know, actually. Maybe the special powers are the only reason the Doctor is not so annoying. It's easier to forgive human flaws if the person who's flawed isn't human. Not having met any people that aren't humans, I can only hypothesise on this one. 

Right, I'm off to the JCR to get me some social time. I hope people are down there or I will cry. 

Days 5-6

I forgot to blog yesterday because I actually had a sociable evening so didn't need to offload my loneliness into the ether of the interwebz. Soz. However, notable points included TEA with Emily, who has been visiting, then a random shopping excursion (I bought a skirt - but don't get too excited, ladies and gents, it's for sub fusc). Then I had to go the library in order to look up PAGE REFERENCES (srsly) and then I had a stressful couple of hours of feeling like everyone else had finished and I hadn't, and hating the world a bit (I was also working, not just pitying myself). I wrote a snotty facebook status about it and then deleted it after ten minutes for being too self-indulgent. Anyway, I had a looooong conversation with Ella about the goddam extended essay and when she had left I made the changes she suggested. It was exactly 6000 words - the upper limit. BOOM. I had planned to go the pub with Rachel when Farha (a little tipsy) and Jess (hoping to be thus) turned up in my room to also take me to the pub, and we ended up all heading to the Turf together. Farha and Rachel <3 each other, which is pleasing to have been in the middle of. Not literally, you understand. I enjoy facilitating feelings of love in the world. Anyways, Rach had to head off but CC had by this time joined us and we decided that obviously the thing to do was to go to GBK for dinner, which we did. We had a merry (and messy, at least in my case) dinner and returned to college, where some sort of shenanigans was going down in the bar. Turned out to be a retirement party. WTF. Jess went off to carry on unpacking and Farha left too, so CC and I had a great chat. I talked a lot. I do that when I am tipsy, but frankly, it's annoying. I wish I wouldn't. 


Today I made the final, final, last and forever changes to the essay and to prove it to myself I printed off allll the bits of it and carried them to Rymans, where I bought binding folder-y type things, and also star shapes made of neon card. Then I went back to my room and ceremoniously hole punched the essays and bound them, and wrote out the envelopes to the exam board etc. I'm taking it to Schools first thing Monday, YEAH. Then I did some Greek vocab and sat down with my Suetonius and my 15ft timeline of Augustus, and added references to it with the neon stars. It looks much jollier now, though still intimidatingly long (quoth she). 


I spent 1pm til 5pm in the library with Ovid. My brain hurt but I knew I could stay because I was due to meet Emily at 5. We had ice cream (in the event actually only I had ice cream, but whatevs) and deep chats, and then we also had a takeaway noodlenation between us and watched the second episode of I, Claudius. ALSO Emily showed me this picture: 

Now you too will never be able to un-see the dog face on a duck's beak. WHY HAS NO-ONE POINTED THIS OUT BEFORE? 


Also it occurred to me that there is a significant problem with Reception Studies and this is that nobody really seems to know why we are doing it, except for the purpose of having something else to study. Someone needs to sit down and write a mission statement, and then possibly also a how-to guide, and that way we would be able to cut out a lot of the dross in the work that is done and direct attention at stuff that would actually be worthwhile. I mean, what are people hoping to achieve by writing about how Troy (the film) is one reception of the Iliad? I'm sure there are things that could usefully be said. But I get the sense that the people who want to write about Troy aren't the sort of people who are going to be saying those things. 


That's just my feeling. You heard it here first, folks. 

Day 4

All my best ideas strike me when I am without the means or inclination to do anything about them. This is the tragedy of my life. Last night I was lying in bed (all too aware of the couple in the room above me, but there's no need to go into that...) and I had some brilliant /life-changing/fairly interesting thought about something which NOW ESCAPES ME. So frustrating. And again, yesterday and today, moseying around Christchurch Meadow, I had a really good thought about something or other. In fairness, I don't think you as readers are missing out on much because both/all these thoughts were, if I recall even a little vaguely, to do with my essay on Catullus and the reception of grief in modern female poetry. 
I'm pretty sure one was about how a novelisation of Catullus' life that I had read and discarded as unhelpful actually could be worked into a broader look at the subject, since it was written though the eyes of Caelius (styled as Catullus' friend) as he came to terms with Catullus' death. V. Interesting. It was called The Key, and it was by Benita Kane Jaro:

It was pretty fun to read because interesting classical novelisations are few and far between, and often of rather dubious quality. Every novelist thinks they've got a story about Ancient Rome inside them and inevitably what is produced is simply 'cacata carta' (that's a cheeky Catullus reference for you right there. No. 36, I do believe. Boom). 


I can't remember what the rest of these tiny sparks of genius were. I always hope this means that they're either unimportant or that they'll come back to me, but I fear that this is an optimistic approach. However, I have not yet reached the levels of pretentiousness it would require (she says, having just quoted a Catullus poem..) to start carrying around a notebook for my thoughts. I am not a New Romantic. I appreciate daffodils and move on with my life. I do still really like moorhens, though, but I don't think that's quite the same. 


In other news, today I acquired a KETTLE. I've had 3 whole cups of tea this afternoon. My hands were shaking a little bit when I made the first one; I'm not sure why. Anticipation, possibly. Maybe I should have a t-shirt with some hilarious tea-related slogan, like 'Sex, Tea, and Rock 'n' Roll'. Maybe that is taking things too far. 


Also, I went to Oxford Central library today to return the books I got out when I borrowed a load of poetry for my essay. I read one, One Hundred Years of Solitude, which I really enjoyed, but I didn't have time to read the other - The Woman in White. Partly I think this was because I was a little bit afraid to read it at night time when there was no-one around. I had to renew my last poetry book because I'm terrified I'll need to put in a reference at the last minute and won't have it to hand. Anyway, when I took them back I decided it was basically Fate that two books I've ogled in bookshops before now just *happened* to be on display, so I have come back with Mr Rosenblum's List and A Tiny Bit Marvellous. I am excited to read both of them. Hopefully I will have the strength of mind to put them down and do some revision every once in a while...


My parents and sister and sister's friend have gone to see Stomp at home in Cambridge this evening. I am jealous that they are having fun and I am not. Evenings are really boring in a single room. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to live on my own because lack of social interaction drives me insane. I had a lovely chat with Gabi earlier when we met by chance in the corridor but that was nearly two whole hours ago and that's a long time to sit in your room feeling like you ought to be working, especially if that's pretty much what you've been doing all day. It's no wonder that all my best thinking occurs when I am out and about, really. 


OH. Today I finished my timeline of the final years of Caesar and the principate of Augustus. It goes from 49BC to AD14. It is enormous - at least 3.5 times the size of me lengthwise. It was an absolute mission but I am looking forward to annotating it and the happy thing is that no other princeps ruled for that long, so Tiberius, Gaius and Claudius should be far less painful. However, I had a look through my Greek History file and there is a loooooot to cover. I don't know how I am going to do that. Well, I kind of do. But it's a big task and it's a bit daunting to have all these things in front of me before I've cleared the last one out of the way. Once I've handed in this bloody essay I'll be ready, I think. 


Right. Onwards and upwards, as the mole said to the earthworm. And don't forget your sunglasses. 

Day 3

Today almost got off to a false start but was saved by the miraculous reappearance of Andrew and CC. We had breakfast chez Andrew. I had a pecan pastry. They're the best kind. Omnomnomnom. And also strawberries, and crucially, also, TEA. I am alarmingly dependent on it. As soon as I overcome my inherent Jewish hatred of spending 'unnecessary' money and go and buy a kettle I will be a lot happier, I think. 


The library was unusually empty today, so even though I turned up around half 9 there was still a whole empty desk at the back. Also, am I the only one who sits cross-legged in the library? Or indeed, on any chair? I just don't understand how it is comfortable to sit with feet dangling. Perhaps that's because my legs are too short and I dislike flailing around trying to reach the floor in vain. I nearly had to do that today in any case because yesterday I practically crippled myself by smashing my knee into my desk chair. These dilemmas aside, however, I managed to sit down and actually do some useful work on my reception essay. I attribute this largely to the fact that I knew someone whose opinion I value was going to look at it and this spurred me on to actually sort out the problems in my first draft. I think I am happy with it now. It has a conclusion of more than about five lines, so that's a start. 


I went to WHSmiths on a revision-materials-buying excursion and bumped into Adam. I bought exciting (well, exciting for me) pens and a huuuuuuuuuge roll of paper which I have been putting to good use this afternoon by making a timeline. I started at 49BC at around 1.30 - it's now 9.30 and I have only got to 5BC. I've got the rest of Augustus to finish and then Tiberius, Caligula AND Claudius, ugh. I think I will save them for tomorrow because I am getting a bit bored of them now. Maybe I'll even treat you to a picture. I'll have practically repapered my room by the time I'm done. 


I also remembered to buy a Mothers' Day card, because I am an exemplary daughter. I bet my brother (at uni in Leeds) will not remember. Might be a long shot to say my sister at home will remember, tbh. On my way to post it at the Lodge, I was startled by a procession of twits in gowns. No, but actually. Helen Spencer, fellow in English and all round clever person (of whom a friend once said 'I can't believe I just got blanked by someone wearing ORANGE TIGHTS') has joined the proctors' office, or something. Anyway, for some reason this required a strange ceremony involving full (I want to say triumphal but that's not what it is) regalia on behalf of all the usual suspects; Rector, Bursar, Chaplain, etc, etc, mincing around the quad in various shades of embarrassed, while a skeleton choir sang madrigals. Most odd. Paul, the porter (he's my fave) shared my confusion with me and also let me into a little tidbit of information which is supposed to remain a secret but y'know what, now that I've told Andrew it won't be secret for long so I have compunction in posting it on t'internet - trashings might be banned this year. THE OUTRAGE. I have not slaved away for nearly four years only to be NOT doused with water on my arrival back in College at the end of it all. How can it be that trashings are going to be banned, and yet a LAWN PLAY is going to be allowed to happen in Trinity term? HOW?! It is very important that we are all given the opportunity to look like this:

and also this:

Andrew said we should write to our tutors. I suggested that my tutor may be ineffectual in accomplishing much. Farha enjoyed my description of her as 'the biggest wet blanket since the invention of fire safety' (I quite enjoyed it too. Sometimes I surprise myself). 


Other than that, it's been a very quiet day. I went for another walk around Christchurch meadow and I think I freaked out a guy in a Teddy Hall splash jacket, because we were going in the same direction and I was walking behind him all the way from the top of Rose Lane to the bridge at Boathouse Island. 


I've also decided that owning a jar of nutella is a really bad idea, because all it means is that I eat nutella out of the jar. Some day I will learn some acceptable eating habits, but I doubt it's going to be any time soon. 


Also, self-pity alert - I'm pretty sure that whatever it is I've been nearly coming down with for about two weeks now is on the brink of making itself known. Having said that, I thought that a week ago as well. Maybe I'm just getting lurgy by stages. 


Oooh and finally... I <3 Drusus. Have you seen the first episode of I, Claudius? No? Well, watch it for Drusus. He's an all-round nice guy and a bit of a fittie, too. And bloody awesome at campaigning.  


Join me again tomorrow for more BANTER. 

Day 2

So my erstwhile editor and critic of long standing (he knows who he is because he's the only one who reads my blogs) has suggested that I add more 'social commentary', which I think merits a picture from one of my favourite webcomics, the genius that is Kate Beaton's Hark, a Vagrant:

Isn't it great? Yeah. I <3 Jane Austen. 

There's not an awful lot for me to comment socially about, to be perfectly honest. There are so few people around and I interact with so few of them that there isn't an awful lot to comment on. Alas, woe, head-beating and teeth-gnashing, etc. 

I managed to have a cup of tea this morning. This was the c(o)up of the day. I traipsed upstairs to Andrew's room to use his kettle. After that I felt ready to burrow underground again (I returned to the Gladstone library) and I read a book, a whole book on Reception studies by one L. Hardwick. Yeah. 

Ooh this blog is so multimedia it's not even real. Check me out. I mean, look at it. It's got a guy with horns on the front cover. You can't tell me that's not classical. It was pretty interesting, too. Though possibly too broad for my use. Still, it's one more thing to put on the bibliography. If I can get it to fill a page I will be happy (and also a bit smug). 

I also had lunch with Adam. I enjoy our lunch breaks. I went to Tesco beforehand and became the proud owner of some tomato ketchup, so I am now truly living it large. I noticed (because 'observant' is my middle name) that Tesco is virtually empty these days, thus proving that actually students make up the bulk of their customers at all times. Something for central supermarkets to ponder, perhaps. They probably have market researchers who are already well aware of the phenomenon, but just in case, y'know, it needed flagging up again... 

I returned triumphantly to Exeter library this afternoon. I dislike how if you aren't at the library before 10am, there are no seats to be had (not even for ready money *sneaky Oscar Wilde quotation FTW*) but happily no-one likes the annexe, so I stationed myself there with my Latin Core file and sorted through it. Once I had done that, I went on a vigorous walk via Christchurch meadows, where I enjoyed judging and begrudged dodging tourists left, right and centre. I was also confirmed in my belief that moorhens are super awesome. Have you seen their feet? You can't tell me they're not awesome. 

Then I went back to the library (yes, life really is that exciting these days), although this time I had my Greek core file with me. Ohoh yes. It's all about variety. 


I had a go at reading some Suetonius this evening but gave it up when Farha came to say hello. We ended up having dinner together and waxing lyrical about our love of vegetables (we really love them). Then I watched Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency, ep.2, which was excellent. And now the past has caught up with the present and I am writing about how I am writing a blog. I should stop before it all gets a bit meta. 

Day 1

I've decided that an excellent way to stave off boredom over the course of revising for my Finals in Classics (or 'Literae Humaniores', if you'd rather) at Oxford will be to blog about it. That way, when I am craving human interaction but have to spend another three hours in the library in order to 'finish' something I wish I'd never started, I will be able to vent my frustration via the internet, and no-one will get hurt. I think this is a good plan. 


This could go one of two ways. Either I will blog obsessively every day and you will discover far more than you  ever cared to know. Or it will sustain my interest for a week, and thereafter be consigned to a the Great Big Recycling Bin in the sky. Whichever it is, it will have done its job, so I don't feel too bad involving any unwitting readers in my experiment. Blogging is surely one of the most selfish acts of sharing, with the possible exception of gratuitous facebook status updates (a sin of which I also admit to being culpable).


Anyway. Today started relatively well. I was up before my alarm and was therefore at the library early - even before it opened. Naturally this meant I bumped into my erstwhile professor, Hutch (not his actual name), who is currently on sabbatical writing a book. No big deal. We had a short burst of library/revision 'banter' before the doors opened and all those eager beavers for whom the word 'vacation' means only that there are fewer people stealing their books flooded in (if floods can be composed of between six to ten people). I was the first person into the Gladstone Link, that weird, Star-Trek-style library that someone thought would be a useful addition to the Bodleian. In fairness to it, I have used it an awful lot this term. Today I found an impressive-looking stack worth of books and sat at a desk all to myself from 9am until nearly 12. I did also do some work.   Then I returned and bumped into some friends one after the other, who provided me with my source of human interaction for the morning. So far, so good. After a lunch break I headed to Exeter library with my Ovid file, in order to work out what I was going to revise on Ovid. Turns out there isn't that much, which is reassuring as all my other files are at least twice the size (and in the case of my Greek History file, possible three or four times the size). A quiet afternoon of desperate attempts to convince myself I was working alternating with lapses into complete apathy resolved itself into a mission to find myself some hot water. I have had to move from my nice, big, and above all shared room on the front quad of college into a small, fairly shabby and crucially single room on the back quad for the duration of the vac. In the process of dividing up the shared room, I have lost access to a kettle. This is a serious blow as I have been without tea all day (tea is effectively my life blood and I would have a tea IV if I thought it wouldn't get in the way). Happily my search proved successful and I even managed some more human interaction in the process. 


Here endeth the lesson. Day 1 of many, many more draws to its inexorable close. 


The scene is set. The next post will be funnier (/funny?), promise.