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.
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.
posted by OrlandoCatastrophic at Monday, February 06, 2006
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home