(no subject)
This was my weekend of Freedom and Joy, my little break between Term and Vacation of Revision. It was good but went unexpectedly wonky.
Friday night, saw 'Going Postal', which was a delight - well done everyone! Ended up in the 'Madding', from whence I was summoned by a good friend with a bad crisis, involving her deeply unpleasant boyfriend. I won't rant, but she was in dreadful state, more upset than I have ever seen her. I have little time for men who make their girlfriends cry like that.
To my savagement, while I was hugging her and trying to make stuff better, some drunken comedian who thought we were lesbians seized my bag and scampered off up the street with it. I got it back, but was raging and unable to do anything about it.
Once things were calmed and slightly improved there, I staggered round to Doom and disturbed the_whybird and reflex-stressed at him.
On Saturday, I saw my mother, whom I'd called and asked to visit in the middle of last week when I was feeling dreadful and wanted to expand my circle of cryable shoulders. We walked round Christ Church Meadow, and I got her talking about feminism and International Women's Day.
It had never occurred to me that she had to do the work/children juggling act when my brother and I were young. She did so by running her own business as a driving instructor, and working stupid evening hours in order to be home during the day, and planning her work round her family. This was obviously a big sacrifice for her, and that I was very lucky as a child in seeing much more of her than a lot of my contemporaries saw of their mothers. And I didn't notice, in fact I remember complaining that she came home smelling of the car.
Then we went to the Mitre for lunch, and I also spilled a lot of my confusion about my Dad - whom I love very dearly, but find it hard to talk to about the Things That Matter. I get spoiled in Oxford, where all my male friends are happy to spill all their emotions to me. When I go home, I assume my Dad will work the same way, but he is of the post-war generation, and to him strong and silent makes much more sense.
There was one jarring moment, when I forgot who I was talking to and used the word 'Fuck'. I got pulled up in mid-sentence and told off. But otherwise it was a lovely day.
Then I saw Peter and his delightful sister Bridget, then headed back to meet the Boy at the A&G. We got food and had a relaxed evening playing 'Monkey Island'.
Today, Peter and I walked across Port Meadow all the way to the Trout, something I've meant to do for years. Unfortunately, I can't colour the place in on my poster, because they were shut. We went back to the Perch and got a coffee, and sneakily ate our own picnic in their garden.
Then I came home, started to plan my revision, got discouraged when I found I have two Greek Core papers not one - an additional hour-and-a-half of translation on top of the three-hour commentary paper - and that I need to cram stupid amounts of text into each week.
So, tomorrow, Epic. The Odyssey, The Aeneid, a thing by Lucan whose name I will remember soon, Paradise Lost and Pope's Homer.
Thrill.
Friday night, saw 'Going Postal', which was a delight - well done everyone! Ended up in the 'Madding', from whence I was summoned by a good friend with a bad crisis, involving her deeply unpleasant boyfriend. I won't rant, but she was in dreadful state, more upset than I have ever seen her. I have little time for men who make their girlfriends cry like that.
To my savagement, while I was hugging her and trying to make stuff better, some drunken comedian who thought we were lesbians seized my bag and scampered off up the street with it. I got it back, but was raging and unable to do anything about it.
Once things were calmed and slightly improved there, I staggered round to Doom and disturbed the_whybird and reflex-stressed at him.
On Saturday, I saw my mother, whom I'd called and asked to visit in the middle of last week when I was feeling dreadful and wanted to expand my circle of cryable shoulders. We walked round Christ Church Meadow, and I got her talking about feminism and International Women's Day.
It had never occurred to me that she had to do the work/children juggling act when my brother and I were young. She did so by running her own business as a driving instructor, and working stupid evening hours in order to be home during the day, and planning her work round her family. This was obviously a big sacrifice for her, and that I was very lucky as a child in seeing much more of her than a lot of my contemporaries saw of their mothers. And I didn't notice, in fact I remember complaining that she came home smelling of the car.
Then we went to the Mitre for lunch, and I also spilled a lot of my confusion about my Dad - whom I love very dearly, but find it hard to talk to about the Things That Matter. I get spoiled in Oxford, where all my male friends are happy to spill all their emotions to me. When I go home, I assume my Dad will work the same way, but he is of the post-war generation, and to him strong and silent makes much more sense.
There was one jarring moment, when I forgot who I was talking to and used the word 'Fuck'. I got pulled up in mid-sentence and told off. But otherwise it was a lovely day.
Then I saw Peter and his delightful sister Bridget, then headed back to meet the Boy at the A&G. We got food and had a relaxed evening playing 'Monkey Island'.
Today, Peter and I walked across Port Meadow all the way to the Trout, something I've meant to do for years. Unfortunately, I can't colour the place in on my poster, because they were shut. We went back to the Perch and got a coffee, and sneakily ate our own picnic in their garden.
Then I came home, started to plan my revision, got discouraged when I found I have two Greek Core papers not one - an additional hour-and-a-half of translation on top of the three-hour commentary paper - and that I need to cram stupid amounts of text into each week.
So, tomorrow, Epic. The Odyssey, The Aeneid, a thing by Lucan whose name I will remember soon, Paradise Lost and Pope's Homer.
Thrill.