(no subject)
I woke up at eight in the morning today and told myself that if I made it down the winding stairs into the basement, than that would be a sign of sobriety. I did make it, but was definitely not sober. Last night we had the welcoming dinner for visiting students from Hertford and Christ Church. All done in an old 19th century dining hall, candelabras dripping wax on the tables, and wine a' plenty. Apparently the protocol for these dinners involves every person at the table making a toast, and then passing the toast on to another person. Needless to say, one drinks every time one toasts, at dinner there were thirty plus people, that's thirty plus gulps of red wine, not including the sherry beforehand, not including whatever was drunk during the actual meal. The toast was passed to me as "one of the most intelligent people in this program," upon that introduction I stood up, blushed,and broke into a heavy Russian accent. The speech was made half a la Borat, half in her majesty's English. I recall some laughing, I don't recall much of the content of what was said. Somewhere in the middle of dinner I think I lost my keys to the apartment as well as the college buildings. We broke in the middle of dinner for cheese, which was afuckingmazing. I do remember lopping off chunks of Edam cheese and handing them out to numerous boys while saying "Tha's how we do." Then, I found my academic adviser, whose name happens to be Alistair ( and you really can't get any more British than that) who also happened to be wasted, and then in an attempt to prove to him that I was more sober than he, I began reciting Daddy. To my credit, I did get through more than half of the poem. Afterwards I do recall drinking some awful vodka pineapple concoction, profusely thanking a bouncer for allowing me to pee inside the premises of a bar upon the condition that I pay nothing at all, and then running into a McDonalds for a quarter pounder with cheese, which may have been the most delicious thing I have eaten here.
In three days, it's my birthday. And I have a feeling that this birthday celebration is going to be somewhat a lonely one due to the fact that although all the people in my household happen to be very nice, there's absolutely nothing that draws me to them for a heart to heart, probably because there's so much shit talking going on inside the house regarding other housemates. All my good friends,people who I would like to be with on my birthday, people who care about my well-being and people who love me (somewhat unconditionally) are not with me and I've been feeling alone a great deal.
Going to see some sort of piano virtuoso shortly, rather than start reading the complete Eliot and Auden, plus commentary. I'm going to get past this Eliot is a big fucking fascist thing and rediscover my love for him, kind of like Prufrock for the first time. I am slowly falling in love with Oxfordshire.
In three days, it's my birthday. And I have a feeling that this birthday celebration is going to be somewhat a lonely one due to the fact that although all the people in my household happen to be very nice, there's absolutely nothing that draws me to them for a heart to heart, probably because there's so much shit talking going on inside the house regarding other housemates. All my good friends,people who I would like to be with on my birthday, people who care about my well-being and people who love me (somewhat unconditionally) are not with me and I've been feeling alone a great deal.
Going to see some sort of piano virtuoso shortly, rather than start reading the complete Eliot and Auden, plus commentary. I'm going to get past this Eliot is a big fucking fascist thing and rediscover my love for him, kind of like Prufrock for the first time. I am slowly falling in love with Oxfordshire.