catching up

Here tis me blog thing. I personally don't get blogs cos I don't know why anyone really cares about me going to the shops or whatever, but since I am away from the dear mateys, I have made this sos they can hear of my adventures without me having to repeat myself.
alors, here is all the things that have happened so far:

25.9.07
19.15 hours.

Had lovely time in SLC. At the v. beginning and v. end of the year SLC is more than edenic, it is Eden. Beautiful people lying out on the grass in the sun, surrounded by trees heavy with foliage.
On Friday I went to services, and the pre-services Feast.
It’s as if you are a washcloth that has to be thoroughly washed and beaten and wrung out, and then you are clean and feel better. I was in services from 10 am to one pm. Then again from 4.30 to 7.
I was happy and loved everyone.

I swinged a little in my peep-toe polka-dot pumps. I went to the pub for drinkies.

The next day I was in stop n’ shop in my completely see-through peignoir buying five different kinds of chocolate.

Swore at drivers in Yonkers.

Watched rock of love, a show that, in my opinion, is absolute proof of the doomed nature of our society.

Me and mummy met with my banker Paul, who is so adorable. He’s a mancunian, so is accent is perfect. And he was very helpful with bank stuff too.

Drove to Queens.

They didn’t call my mammoth bags on being overweight, amazingly.
Said bye to Mummy.
And was alone in JFK. I went to a café, where this cute Australian flirted with me and I got a masala chai latte which tasted just like Mummy’s gingersnaps. So I felt pretty hopeful after that. I changed my money, and then I was on the plane, and we were off, and circling over Queens, which at night and from above is the most surreally gorgeous thing.
It was very At least that abandon.
I had supper and watched some POTC. At BA you can now make your own customized playlist of music for your journey. I made one largely new wave and 60’s and very simon & garfunkle, naturally.
I barely slept, but managed to sleep through breakfast. Rargh.
Watched some JAWS. Looked at the clouds.

Terminal four was really short this time!
I can’t believe it!
I got my bags and through everything hassle-free, onto the coach, and soon enough we’re in Oxford, and everything is familiar.

Wadham is a beautiful college. I can’t believe I’m going here. I walked right past it plenty of times when I was 17, thinking how cool it would be to be a student at the Uni, never dreaming it would actually come true. There was a lady waiting for me named Charlie who gave me biscuits and called me cab. Our neighbourhood of Iffley Rd seemed a little ghetto, and our flat was cheap, but nice, clean, with a living room, couches, shelves, washer, kitchen with all the amenities, utensils, and bathrooms with showers and that. My room is not littler than the average dorm room, with a nice view out a really big window, and a fourpost bed, closet, and full-length mirror, which is what counts. I unpacked some, then Abbey came in and asked if I wanted to go exploring for food. We walked down High Street into town.
Eventually we wound up on Cornmarket street and bought lunch at Pret a manger. It was everywhere lovely, old architecture, and leaves blowing about, bc although in ny it had been 90 degrees and steaming, here it was proper autumn and quite cold.

We decided to go back a different way, past St. Catherine's and Magdalen, and ended up getting lost. We tried to cut through magdalen, which is all fenced and walled and guarded like a fortress, but somehow we got in, and wandered around trying to find our way out. We saw a heron, and climbed a woodpile to get over a fence, and I got nettled! Like a noob!
HATE nettles.
Then there was a river, and the bridge had a gate and iron spikes so no-one could get out. I began to fear we had inadvertently wandered into not a college, but a lunatic asylum. We crawled through a hole in a fence which had barbed wire on the top, for chrissake, and saw four men playing Frisbee. They all spoke in turn, and I realized they all had Australian accents. They seemed friendly, however, nor fazed by our intrusion, and told us the way out.
Past the nest of Australians was a strange corridor where an alarm sounded continually, and a man on bridge scribbled in a notebook. I began to be concerned that this was some kind of island of doctor moreau thing. Another man came upon us, then, and unlocked a fence and showed us the way out. He was not Australian, however. He sounded more polish.

Home! I had a nap. Then was pizza party in 2. Many mateys.

when we got back, my flat mates and I stayed up till nine, trying to fix our jet lag. We just sat about in the kitchen and talked.
So that was nice.

Friday, September 28th, 12.10 AM

Listening to: Gut Feeling, Devo.

Walked into town with Alex. There was an introductory talk in the Okinaga Room, then we had lunch. It’s good that they keep feeding us, that way we don’t have to spend money on food. But I found something well worth spending money on. After lunch we went to Blackwell’s! I wanted EVERYTHING. Misery that I am so poor.

Then we had guided tours. The weather was so nice, quite cold, with alternating faint showers and sun. we got to go in the sheldonian theatre. It was quite amazing.

Afters, we went into Orange to buy phones. The interior of Orange is painfully hip and it is staffed entirely by people who look like the king of the mods. I was very intimidated and ended up buying a phone I don’t really want. I really only want my own phone, to be honest.

To top that, the internet STILL isn’t working. Rargh. When I realized that, it was the most upset I’ve been since I arrived.
We took the bus back. It’s not expensive, but I really can’t afford to be taking it all the time, plus why do it when you’ve got perfectly good legs?
I felt quite morally superior when I saw some others taking cabs to the wine reception while we waited at the bus stop in our smart dress like proper working-class people.
Although this is Oxford's commie school, of late I have been more and more possessed of a strange bourgeoise passion.
looking at the rows of little houses out the window at night, with their gardens and all, is my English middle-class dream. I just want to be out there with my wellies mucking about with Postman Pat. Or the Jolly Postman. Or at least a vet.

Anyway, we missed the bus and were a bit late to the reception, but it was ok. I even succeeded in mingling adequately, and mercifully it was over soon. Then we trooped off to the Hall, which was very Hogwarts, and had supper. It was all yummy and I actually think my table etiquette was exactly right, even to how you’re supposed to tear of little bits of your roll and butter them individually. I sat next to Kelly. Across from us was a young economics professor who talked literally the entire time, nonstop, about economics to the poor girl next to him.
The professor next to Kelly was a wonderful caricature of a british academic, in his black robe, and he kept saying awesome things to her, such as what was her favorite period? (historical, I presume), and coerced her into eating her veg by saying they were full of antioxidants and good for the bowels. He was SO cool. I wish I’d been sitting next to him.
Kelly’s tutor was the coolest professor at the whole Uni, however. He has a round red face, crazy white flyaway hair that stands straight up, a watch on a chain, a yellow bow tie, and the most extravagant manner. AND he is an astronomer. I cannot express his awesomeness. I totally wish he were my tutor. But Debbie pointed out one of mine, and we ended up catching each other’s eye and having an odd sort of wave down the table.

He came up after. His name is Dr. John Ballam, and he seems really nice. It turns out I share him with Abbey.
The Warden gave a speech, and he was also really cute and stereotypical. I loved them all, the dusty old professors.
So there we were, at Oxford, sitting at this long table, under the paintings of Wren and everybody, with the candles and the professors in their gowns. It was insane. Half the time Kelly and me just giggled and tried to figure out how to open the water bottle, which was some kind of engineering marvel.
MAD.
Apres, everyone went to the college bar for drinks, but we Kelly and I didn’t want drinks, we wanted INTERNETS. So they showed us where the computer room was, and so we had EMAIL and FACEBOOK and it was wonderful.

But then, of course, we had to take the bus home in the night.