I protest...

I have had so little sleep over the last 5 days that I am dead on my feet. I need a vacation but will settle for a weekend in Paris. Any takers? Despite all that, I remain the best dressed person I know. I mean, it's becoming embarrassing now.


On Friday, I dined at Magdalen (again) and then went to Green College for a bop. It was awfully good fun. I had more luridly coloured 'cocktails' than I care to remember (or rather, than I can remember). Danced the night away (i.e., lurched around the dancefloor) and managed to stagger home around 2am.

Saturday started off pleasantly enough. I slept in, had lovely fresh pasta for breakfast (I was craving carbohydrate and there was nothing else in the house), went into town to support the Pro-Test protest and stayed to mock and jeer the SPEAK protest. Do people not understand?

TESTING ON ANIMALS IS A NECESSARY EVIL AND SAVES HUMAN LIVES.

Headed to London to meet up with Mark K for dinner and drinks. It started off alright but 5 hours later, deteriorated. I'm not one to slag people off so I won't go into details here...

On Sunday, went to the service at the University Church of St Mary the Virgin (SMV). James was singing there as usual and it was a special service in honour of the 20th anniversary of Cannon M at SMV. Had a marvellous organic lunch provided by the Vaults Cafe (I have to go there more often. It is seriously good. If only the portions weren't so small...).
Relaxed for the rest of the day then went to evensong at Exeter (HUGE freakin' mistake) and then RAN to Magdalen to meet Phil and Annie with whom James and I were dining. Dinner was very pleasant and comprised a lovely béchamel sauce. I could eat béchamel sauce everyday and never grow tired of it.

Who the fuck came up with béchamel sauce? Flour and butter do not a sauce make.

Went to Mertons for a drink where we were joined by Max and Sophia. The barman was supremely charming and quite attractive and informed us that Amoretto despite tasting of almonds actually comes from apricots. Actually.

The crazy Belgian arrived back in the UK from Barbados this morning at 6am. Her even crazier sister and the sister's gormless boyfriend arrived last night from Cardiff so they could go down to the airport with the German to welcome her back.

A note about the boyfriend. What a freak. Watching him attempt spreading Nutella on a croissant this morning was the most hilarious thing I've seen in a long time. An enormous dollop of Nutella ended up on his face so he looked like he was into scat. None of us told him it was there though. Not hot at all, I'm afraid. And he's just so big and lumbering and STANK this morning. I almost fainted...it was all I could do to remain upright. I had to grip the edge of the kitchen counter. My knuckles were turning white. He asked if there was anything he could do and I barely managed to mutter through clenched teeth that everything was under control and why don't you sit down OVER THERE. Catastrophic situation. It was a good 5 minutes before the odour dissipated and I was able to breathe normally again.

So far today, I've drunk:

2 cups of tea (milk, no sugar)
1 cup of coffee
2 cups of fennel and liquorice
1 cup of apple and cinnamon tea (tastes and looks like urine)
3 litres of water (tap water is fine in this country)

I've been invited to a HIGH level meeting, lecture and reception at the British Council. Piccadilly is my spiritual home, afterall. The lecture is called "Of Academic Freedom" and is being given by Dr John Sexton the President of New York University. It's in association with CARA (Council for Assisting Refugee Academics). Should be interesting. Have arranged to meet up with Nat afterwards so even if it's shite it won't have been a total waste.

Currently listening to: Something by Castanets.

I am the resurrection

Okay, I know I've been crap about posting regularly but I've just been so gosh darn busy, that I simply haven't had the time. I'm back and raring to go though. Fear not.

Lessee...since I last posted, I've developed a penchant for lists. A fetish, if you will. So...


February 2005-February 2006 in cities:

Toronto
NYC
Washington DC
Toronto
Philadelphia
Toronto
Delhi
Haridwar
Hrishikesh
Jaipur
Agra
Bangalore


Bands I constantly listen to:

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
Go! Team
Ladytron
Nouvelle Vague
The Greenhornes
Air (but only Moon Safari)
Suede (especially Suede)
Martha Wainwright (with a bit of Rufus thrown in)
Sugababes (only in moments of weakness)
Bloc Party
Kings of Convenience
Tallis
Byrd
Victoria


People I've met in the last year who've made my world a better place:

Annie M (the prettiest girl in school but doesn't know it)
Phil M (why won't you go out with me? Girls don't deserve you)
Mark K (sweet gym/cocktail buddy)
Mark B (hot, hot, hot; a cad and yet a gentleman)
Sophia S (a fratboy in a girl's body. HOT!)
James G (puts up with my crapness (and I, his)
Alexandra C (the cleverest girl in school but doesn't know it)


Some things I've read (and recommend) this year:

Porterhouse Blue
Grantchester Grind
Indecent Exposure
Vintage Stuff
Riotous Assembly
Wilt
Wilt On High
Blott on the Landscape
The Great Pursuit
Ancestral Vices
If God Spare My Life (a biography of William Tyndale)
The Collected Works of A.E. Hausman
Brideshead Revisited
A Room With a View

Lots of other stuff, but you HAVE to read those.


I've developed a taste for:

Whiskey
Whisky
Calimocho (red wine and Coke. The Spanish love this shit)
The colour black
Leather
Pointy shoes
Belts
Jazz
Hedi Slimane
Feather boas
Hands
Perfect Manhattans
Sweet Manhattans
Dry Manhattans
Bitter chocolate
Americans
Canadians


Vices, I'm trying (but not very hard) to overcome:

Jaffa Cakes
Porn
Figs
Fresh dates
Cashew nuts


Currently listening to: Love Will Tear Us Apart Again by Nouvelle Vague

How too, too sick-making...

My sciatica is out of control. I've taken so much Ibuprofen in the last 7 days that I'm sure I've done my liver harm. My doctor, the Head of the Medical School, no less, told me to stretch my leg and continue taking the Ibuprofen. Disaster. This would never happen in Canadia. Ah...my beloved Canadia.

Currently listening to: There is an End by The Greenhornes.

On Friday, I went to Kazbar with Max, Catherine, Sophia, Paul and a couple of other people but they were dull. DULL. Okayish meal followed by a debate about where to go next. I was up for Liquid Lounge at Magdalen MCR but the others were in favour of £2 Fridays at New College MCR. For those of you who don't know, every other Friday at New College MCR, you pay £2 to get in and drink as much as you like for FREE. Yep, a big, fat NOTHING. It was pretty crowded but everyone was very pleasant and quite beautiful. Anyway, as we were queuing up to get a drink, Sophie asked "on a scale of 0-10, how pissed are you?" "Hmmm....a 2, I think.", I replied. So we proceeded to make our way towards 10 on the pissedness scale. The problem is, it was quite crowded and the bar is quite small so it took ages to get served. When we finally did get served we decided it would be easier to just get 3 or 4 drinks each and down them so we wouldn't have to carry them around. The Committee started chucking people out at 11 so we decided to collect James and go on to Love Bar. We were there all of 20 minutes when the New College cheap booze kicked in. Big stylee.
I was on the floor. I knew I'd be fine if I could just down a pint of water and have a little sit down. No such luck. The bouncer asked us to leave saying "Can't sleep here, mate". I hate being called 'mate'. SO, James had the unenviable task of getting me back to Magdalen. Several strangers apparently asked if I was alright and offered to help James carry my prone body home. Oxford is just so NICE.

ANYWAY, I ended up hurling all over James' room that night. I'm not pleased with myself. I've apologised profusely and have even attempted to unblock the drain...

The rest of the week was spent recuperating. And apologising.

I DID purchase a very cool jacket from Section 9 on Sunday though.

Now listening to: Playgirl by Ladytron.

Pedro Almodovar is the best director ever. EVER. I saw What Have I Done to Deserve This yesterday. It was weird and amusing.

The Belgian is away for 10 weeks. HURRAH. We have a friend of the German staying with us for a few days. He is very pleasant to look at. The stupid bastard keeps leaving the toilet lid up though. And we all know that that is a no-no. I saw him emerge from the bathroom today wearing nothing but a tiny pair of briefs. Practically a bikini. Yuck. New College thinks "Manners Mayketh Man" but EVERYONE knows it's all in the pants ('underwear', for my Transatlantic readers. You do exist, no?).

On Saturday, in my feeble state, I shaved James' hair off. It was very therapeutic. Afterwards, we went to a memorial service for Mary Bennett, former Pro-Vice-Chancellor of the University and former Principal of St Hilda's College, Oxford. James was singing and I was being a voyeur. I love memorial services. In Cambridge I used to go to as many as I could. Only once did I actually know the person who was being memorialised though. Still, they are good fun. The service on Saturday consisted of some very good music and several readings (a very good one from Job 28:18)...


"But where shall wisdom be found?
And where is the place of understanding?
Mortals do not know the way to it,d
and it is not found in the land of the living.
The deep says, 'It is not in me,'
and the sea says, 'It is not with me.'
It cannot be gotten for gold,
and silver cannot be weighed out as its price.
It cannot be valued in the gold of Ophir,
in precious onyx or sapphire.e
Gold and glass cannot equal it,
nor can it be exchanged for jewels of fine gold.
No mention shall be made of coral or of crystal;
the price of wisdom is above pearls.
The chrysolite of Ethiopia cannot compare with it,
nor can it be valued in pure gold.

"Where then does wisdom come from?
And where is the place of understanding?
It is hidden from the eyes of all living,
and concealed from the birds of the air.
Abaddon and Death say,
'We have heard a rumor of it with our ears.'


As well as excerpts from her unpublished memoirs. Very amusing. She was 93 so most people attending the service were like wwwaaayyyy old. I was one of the youngest. Certainly the most youthful and dewy.


Now listening to: Wrapped Up in Books by Belle and Sebastian. There are dozens of them in that band. Weird.

Now, where was I?

I know, I know, I KNOW, it's been like, forever since I posted anything. But I'm back and I'm RARING to go.
You'd better put on your seatbelt...it's going to be a bumpy ride. Yeah.

Well, Christmas has come and gone. It was chilled. I was in Oxford, all alone in my big, cold house. My only solace being an almost limitless supply of food and drink. It was magical.
On Christmas Day, I went to the service at the University Church (http://www.university-church.ox.ac.uk/). It was appalling. The 'music' was catastrophic. It was all very amateurish, but it was a family service so was geared to little children and their proud parents. Sickening. ANYWAY, as anyone who knows me can attest, I HATE the bit of the service in which one offers a sign of friendship (The Peace). I usually just shake hands with the people immediately to my left and right and look menacingly at everyone else. I thought I'd gotten away with it on Christmas Day. But no. Some bint sitting behind me, jabbed her boney finger into my ribs and held out her hand. I grudgingly shook it (I'm no Scrooge, you see) and turned back to face the front. When the service was finally over, I got up to leave but was accosted by the bloody rib-digger. "So, tell me about you". "Fuck off" I thought. I mumbled something about me and tried to extricate myself from the situation. She was having none of it. She told me ALL about her, her husband and her daughter (who was at Cambridge when I was, but I didn't know her. She was at a THIRD rate College (http://www.magd.cam.ac.uk/). Anyway, short story, long, they invited me to have lunch with them and a visiting Columbian 'friend'. It all sounded quite dodgy but I said 'yes' regardless.
Whilst walking with them in Radcliffe Square I was overcome with horror at the predicament in which I now found myself. Fortunately, my phone rang just then to say I had a voicemail. It was Divine Intervention. Nothing less. Oh no. I prayed and the Lord heard my prayer. Whatever. WHATEVER. I used the phone call to say I had to leg it home asap. Whew.

For New Year's Eve, I went to a club called The Egg in King's Cross. Cassius was DJing as were Seb Fontaine and some other guy. It was good fun but very tiring. And not at all cheap.

Off to India in January. Went to Delhi, Jaipur, Agra, Bangalore and several smaller places in between. I didn't get ill at all. Nope. No soupy stools for me. No siree.

Back at work now and I'm finding it deeply tedious. Thank fu ck the weekend is almost here.

Currently listening to: This Modern Love by Bloc Party (http://www.blocparty.com/go.php?object=home)

The Prime Minister, Tony Blair is in Oxford today. He's giving a talk or something at St Antony's College. I'd go but I'm ever so busy and my real friends require my presence elsewhere.

It has been ages since I've been in touch with:

Hot Bescher in D.C. ( I WILL call you back)
Johnny in Panama (I MIGHT visit you)
Brian in D.C. (I DEFINITELY will visit you (and Bescher)
Tuvia in London (you MUST come to Oxford)
Keith in, erm, Yorkshire somewhere (you don't love me anymore!)
Odette in B.C. (I still love you, I'm just a bitch about keeping in touch). Really.

Last Friday, James and I had drinks with Phil and his lady friend and then went on to St Anne's to celebrate Dave's birthday. It was hot. St Anne's College has a high proportion of very attractive people. Not terribly bright but pleasant to look at.

Last Saturday, I went to the Australia Day bop at St Antony's College with James, Max and Chris. We had dinner at Pizza Express first. It was very pleasant. Neither Max nor Chris had been before. They were amazed such places exist. They're from South Africa. Poor simple souls. At the bop, I bumped into Jenny and Aaron from John's. It was good to see them as I'd not seen them in AGES (I blame them entirely) and Jenny invited me to MCR exchange dinner next week. St John's is hosting Catz. The prince and the pauper...

On Sunday, Elly and Sam very kindly invited me to their place for lunch with Martin who was up from London. The German joined us later and the flirting going on between him and Martin was shocking. It was painful to watch. Practically pornographic.

Now listening to: Details of the War by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.

I am so addicted to Facebook it is frightening. I'm also seriously in danger of becoming addicted to Friendster. Help!

On Monday, Christian, the German, Patty and I went to MCR Guest Night at Keble. It was very pleasant. I had Patty on one side which was very pleasant. We chatted about coffee enemas (highly recommended, apparently) and post anal intercourse bowel movements. Highly informative. On the other side, I had some American chick from Boston who was 'nice'. The type of friend your parents would have chosen for you as a child.

Since Monday, I have been working my lovely ass off at work and the gym.

Also, I have decided I ought to make more use of my super-duper computer. I had it upgraded with so much shit it is super-fast and super-powerful. I must be able to use it to make some money, no? Suggestions, please. I could always become an escort, I suppose.

Now listening to: Glory Box by John Martin

Someone has been foolish enough to consent to 'go out' with me. Fool.