What the guidebooks don't tell you...
Yesterday, I had lunch at St Cross with Annie. It was one of the best college lunches I've ever had. You get a choice of 2 soups and various breads and bread products, a main course and fruit or yoghurt or cheese board and tea or coffee.
The food was very good, the dining hall is light and airy and the people are friendly. Why can't restaurants be like this?
Anyway, the guy sitting next to me was at Darwin College, Cambridge (which has one of the best bars in Cambridge) and he described Cambridge as a prostitute and Oxford as a meaningful relationship. Cambridge offers everything it has at first glance. It's all there, laid out for you to enjoy. Oxford reveals things slowly. You have to discover them. You stumble across them randomly.
It's a very good analogy, I think. Cambridge...that old whore...
Went to pink-drinks at Magdalen yesterday. They were held in the Oscar Wilde Room. Oscar Wilde was an Irish poet and playwright . He attended Magdalen College but then ended up in prison for buggery. That law has been scrapped though.
At drinks I chatted to 2 of the pleasant people I met at drinks last Monday and a new pleasant person. The two pleasant people from last week were even more pleasant this week (despite being a good deal more sober), the third pleasant person was very, very pleasant.
Annie came along to drinks too. I THINK she enjoyed herself. Lots of lesbians were eyeing her up. Looking her up and down. Undressing her with their eyes. I know I was.
Not really!
After drinks, which were, once again, heaving, we went to G Bar. (4 commas in one sentence and not a single one extraneous). It was okay. I was given the "it's not you, it's me" talk. Apparently, I'm a "great guy" (what the fuck does that mean?). It's almost as insulting as saying someone has a wonderful personality. As in "He's not very attractive but he has a wonderful personality". To make matters worse, he kept apologising. I was like, "Dude, it's okay. Don't worry about it. Really". I clearly didn't mean it but it's best to be grown-up about these things.
Currently listening to: Forever Young by Alphaville
I posted my parents presents for their birthdays which were last week. Fucking Canada Post charged them $33 in Duty! Fucking cheek. I couldn't believe it.
Yesterday at the pub, we had a team-building thing for a couple of hours. We sampled the new menu and tried some wines so we could describe them to customers. One of the activities was to name our favourite song and film. I was stumped. How do you choose just one song? I have a favourite song of the day or week, but how do you choose your favourite song EVER? I didn't fare much better when it came to naming my favourite film either. Stoopid activity.
Now listening to: Strict Machine by Goldfrapp
The food was very good, the dining hall is light and airy and the people are friendly. Why can't restaurants be like this?
Anyway, the guy sitting next to me was at Darwin College, Cambridge (which has one of the best bars in Cambridge) and he described Cambridge as a prostitute and Oxford as a meaningful relationship. Cambridge offers everything it has at first glance. It's all there, laid out for you to enjoy. Oxford reveals things slowly. You have to discover them. You stumble across them randomly.
It's a very good analogy, I think. Cambridge...that old whore...
Went to pink-drinks at Magdalen yesterday. They were held in the Oscar Wilde Room. Oscar Wilde was an Irish poet and playwright . He attended Magdalen College but then ended up in prison for buggery. That law has been scrapped though.
At drinks I chatted to 2 of the pleasant people I met at drinks last Monday and a new pleasant person. The two pleasant people from last week were even more pleasant this week (despite being a good deal more sober), the third pleasant person was very, very pleasant.
Annie came along to drinks too. I THINK she enjoyed herself. Lots of lesbians were eyeing her up. Looking her up and down. Undressing her with their eyes. I know I was.
Not really!
After drinks, which were, once again, heaving, we went to G Bar. (4 commas in one sentence and not a single one extraneous). It was okay. I was given the "it's not you, it's me" talk. Apparently, I'm a "great guy" (what the fuck does that mean?). It's almost as insulting as saying someone has a wonderful personality. As in "He's not very attractive but he has a wonderful personality". To make matters worse, he kept apologising. I was like, "Dude, it's okay. Don't worry about it. Really". I clearly didn't mean it but it's best to be grown-up about these things.
Currently listening to: Forever Young by Alphaville
I posted my parents presents for their birthdays which were last week. Fucking Canada Post charged them $33 in Duty! Fucking cheek. I couldn't believe it.
Yesterday at the pub, we had a team-building thing for a couple of hours. We sampled the new menu and tried some wines so we could describe them to customers. One of the activities was to name our favourite song and film. I was stumped. How do you choose just one song? I have a favourite song of the day or week, but how do you choose your favourite song EVER? I didn't fare much better when it came to naming my favourite film either. Stoopid activity.
Now listening to: Strict Machine by Goldfrapp
posted by OrlandoCatastrophic at Tuesday, October 18, 2005
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