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[personal profile] raven
My day today can actually be summarised by reasons for believing my life is fantastic. I know that sentence makes no sense, but it's past midnight. Um, to begin, then. I had twelve solid hours of sleep last night, and I still got up before ten. That was love all by itself. And what was more, getting out of bed on a still, grey sort of day, in my cosy attic in Oxford to find people have been in and fixed my doorhandle so I no longer get stuck in and out of room: that was love too. I'm feeling rather buoyant at the moment anyway because of the resolved housing situation; it just feels so wonderful to know I have somewhere to live. Something else that amused me, and may amuse other Dorothy L. Sayers fans - the flat is on the site of where Shrewsbury College ought to be. Hee.

Anyway, so I ambled out into the grey and I went to lectures, and Pat flumped herself down next to me in Macro and then did a double take when she saw me. "You? What are you doing here?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, well, I got up this morning and thought, you know what I haven't done in a while..."

"Gone to a Macro lecture?" she demanded.

"Yes! How did you know?"

"Because you haven't been to any all term!"

To be fair, this is only third week of Hilary. I've plenty of time to start going to lectures. But, anyway, I tried listening this time, and although Moradi is boring cubed and speaks in an impossible-to-understand Austrian accent to boot, I actually didn't chew my own hand off before the end of the hour. Achievement. He finished early, so Pat didn't stay back, although she's always said she wants to stay for the first five minutes of Morison and Pooley just so she knows what the hell we're on about all the time.

She should have stayed. Morison started by quoting at length from this BBC news article, which seemed to be worrying him. By the time he got to personal hygiene, facial hair and "In short, every aspect of their measly little lives irritates me", he was getting quite upset and the audience was quietly convulsing. Having dispensed with that, he moved on to this one, which worried the audience more than it worried him. He eventually concluded that having sex (with a glance at Pooley, he refused to clarify what type of sex) is not the best way to prepare for giving lectures, and you might do better "thinking about what you are going to say".

I've said before that some lectures are relevant, other lectures are interesting, still others are precisely the right speed to follow. There may even be more than one lecture set with incredibly slashy lecturers. Lectures that embody all these qualities are probably once-in-a-lifetime occurrences, which is why I am going to every single one. Today's was on primary and secondary qualities in Locke and queried in Mackie, and very interesting. Morison finally got going properly when it came to querying Mackie's objections. Mackie discusses the refutation over several pages, claiming a first-year undergrad can understand it, and then he mentions it again, and then again, with little to no dicussion, and having got this far Morison gave up and yelled, "Will you just tell us the FUCKING refutation?" and I decided that there is no subject but philosophy I'd be nearly as happy doing.

[livejournal.com profile] jacinthsong caught up with me after the lecture, and there was momentary squee before I had to run off to the philosophy faculty library. I got back into college in time for a multicultural piecemeal lunch with the Balliolites. (Mostly, these involve powdered soup, bread, crackers, Liya's mum's shish kebabs and a nameless delicious concoction Pat carts over from Madrid.) And then I went to the Social Sciences Library for two hours of reading about the Fifth Republic party system, which is more interesting than you might imagine. Still, I was getting a headache on my way back to college, and was duly pissed off to find a large laminated sign on the front of my door. "DANGER! DANGER! DO NOT DRINK WATER! IT IS BEING CHLORINATED AND YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!"

Okay, maybe I made up the last bit. But I stomped off to Claire's to ask if I could drink out of her taps, and she informed me my birthday present had arrived. Said birthday present had been dispatched late from Amazon, she said. I was impressed at the size of the box, and whilst everyone else grinned to themselves, I ripped away the paper to find a sonic screwdriver. There was joy. Although, as I commented wryly, it's my nineteenth birthday, and I was opening a box marked "ages six and up". Never mind! It is still love, and we pored over the instructions to find out how to put the batteries in.

"It says here," Claire said, "that you need a screwdriver!"

I tried not to howl with laughter and went to philosophy class, which, thankfully, was not as much of a pissing contest as last week's. I kept pretty quiet for the two hours - two hours! ridiculous amounts of structured time, I tell you - and went off to dinner and then the inter-society geek quiz at Christ Church. I mentioned this last time as the only occasion in my life I have heard five people chorus, "Romanadvoratrelundar." It was just as geeky this time, perhaps more so, because [livejournal.com profile] ou3fs were making up a team. I didn't play for them because then DocSoc would have had about four people, but I thoroughly appreciated the questions: things like "From which fic is the line 'are you hip to my jive?'" (Answer: [livejournal.com profile] shoebox_project.) We excelled ourselves, however, when they asked, "Name five actors who have played Doctor Who. You can have one point for two, and two points for three..."

"And three points for seventeen?" the DocSoc wanted to know. We got them for being smart-arses.

In short, although we lost, it was much of the fun. And afterwards Laura and [livejournal.com profile] foulds and I avoided the X-men fen and had a good giggle of our own, instead, and then Laura trundled off to get killed by Logic and I flounced into Claire's, sonic screwdriver in hand. I did eventually get the batteries in, by asking the porter if he had a screwdriver. He wanted to know what for, and I showed him. He was so excited to see it, he stopped everything he was doing and fixed it all up for me, right there in the lodge. I was amused as well as grateful.

Claire was on the phone, so I picked up one of her books. After a moment, she told Liya on the phone: "Iona is here, reading Aristophanes and giggling at the word 'cocksucker.'" Those scandalous Greeks, I tell you. After a bit we repaired to Pat's - she is griping over some total bastard, Popper, who wrote a book on the reading list that is also, bizarrely, on my reading list, regardless of the fact Pat does management and I do philosophy - and cracked upon hot chocolate and Firefly. We got through Our Mrs Reynolds and a Sainsbury's bag of oranges, and that was my day, in all its loveliness.

Tomorrow morning, early, I am going to Iffley Road to play badminton before lectures. I must be mad, as I have to get up in seven hours. But today was too perfect not to write about, I reckon; and tomorrow can take care of itself.

on 2006-01-31 04:30 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] loneraven.livejournal.com
We have to fill in evaluation forms at the end of each lecture set, and while I honestly want to say nice things about lecturers, it never really happens. Too many of them are mind-numbingly boring, irrelevant, impossible to understand or all of the above. M and P are going to get unqualified positives, though (and they are quite a bit older than you and still deserving of the cool label!). *g*

But, I have to say I find it very hard to picture you giving lectures. :)

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