When Life Gives You The Crazy
You just run with it.
I dined at High Table tonight, mostly because one of my friends wanted to dine at High Table with me, and it was a tiny crowd. There were just four of us at dinner, which was delicious, waiter-served by candlelight in the enormous dining hall, with Combination afterwards in the Green MacCurdy Room, which is one of the absolutely most Cambridge-y rooms I have ever been in. On the way home, we ended up talking about just how weird Cambridge can be, and how you just have to accept that the New Normal consists of a combination of normal academic work punctuated by these moments when something either completely batshit, massively Victorian, or both, happens, and everyone just acts like it's the most usual thing in the world.
I swear, an hour and a half after having this conversation, I heard explosions, and when I went to the door and looked outside, there was a Random Fireworks Display. The last time a Random Fireworks Display happened outside my house, it was May Week*, and the University was just throwing its usual over-the-top end-of-year party. But it's July now, and I can't think of any reason that . . . King's, maybe, or Clare, would be setting off fireworks. So, in grand Cantabridgian tradition, I just ran with it. It's the evening of July 3 over here, so I made my own musical accompaniment, and I sang "The Star-Spangled Banner," "My Country 'Tis Of Thee," "America The Beautiful," "Yankee Doodle," and the original lyrics to "Chester" while I watched fireworks.
See, and here I thought I was signing up for three years without fireworks in July! Cambridge thinks of everything!
*Which is in June, because . . . Cambridge.
I dined at High Table tonight, mostly because one of my friends wanted to dine at High Table with me, and it was a tiny crowd. There were just four of us at dinner, which was delicious, waiter-served by candlelight in the enormous dining hall, with Combination afterwards in the Green MacCurdy Room, which is one of the absolutely most Cambridge-y rooms I have ever been in. On the way home, we ended up talking about just how weird Cambridge can be, and how you just have to accept that the New Normal consists of a combination of normal academic work punctuated by these moments when something either completely batshit, massively Victorian, or both, happens, and everyone just acts like it's the most usual thing in the world.
I swear, an hour and a half after having this conversation, I heard explosions, and when I went to the door and looked outside, there was a Random Fireworks Display. The last time a Random Fireworks Display happened outside my house, it was May Week*, and the University was just throwing its usual over-the-top end-of-year party. But it's July now, and I can't think of any reason that . . . King's, maybe, or Clare, would be setting off fireworks. So, in grand Cantabridgian tradition, I just ran with it. It's the evening of July 3 over here, so I made my own musical accompaniment, and I sang "The Star-Spangled Banner," "My Country 'Tis Of Thee," "America The Beautiful," "Yankee Doodle," and the original lyrics to "Chester" while I watched fireworks.
See, and here I thought I was signing up for three years without fireworks in July! Cambridge thinks of everything!
*Which is in June, because . . . Cambridge.