My day off

[raven]

I should be asleep. I really should. But I am taking the fact that I am not asleep as something of a good sign. Well, sort of; I'm wondering whether there are any anti-histamines that are not prescription drugs and thusly self-medicating. (If not, I'll get Pedar to dig around in the medicine cabinet and send me some. I sometimes wonder if my parents don't take a very carefree attitude to prescriptions and suchlike; my mother put anti-histamines in my bottles when I was a small insomniac child. Now I am a slightly larger insomniac adult I don't see why there should be a double standard. One day I will learn not to go on big huge long digressions in parenthesis.) In absence of anything stronger, I am swigging cough syrup out of the bottle (ohgod, I am a student; I have no clean cutlery with which to measure out) and waiting for the hit of drowsiness. It has not yet arrived, which makes me think that perhaps I am facing it from the standpoint of person-who-is-almost-healthy rather than person-who-is-clinging-to-life-with-ragged-and-bloody-fingernails.

There is a reason for this, and here it is: I have had a day off. I have had two! And I have one more to come, although tomorrow is less of one seeing as I have to go to a Marxism tute with Adam, who will probably shred my essay into little pieces, but I won't mind, because at least I have written the thice-damned thing and it has corporeal existence. Talking of my Marxism essay, last heard of when I was sitting in Starbucks reading The Communist Manifesto (in a t-shirt with "Well-behaved women seldom make history" on the front and bright red hair!) and wondering why people were looking at me funny, I am actually rather proud of it. It took me four hours - with occasional breaks for LJ, natch - but I wrote it. Take that, Marxist conceptions of liberty! At 2471 words, it's also the longest academic essay I have ever produced (I have this damnable tendency to be concise to the point of minimalism). And - this is the crucial part - it's also the last new-material essay I will ever write as a first-year PPEist. I'll be doing one more essay plan next week, and a whole metric shitload of practice exam essays, but as far as researched tute essays go, this one was the last. I actually enjoyed it more than expected, too; it was about why Marx thought communism all superior 'n' stuff, and I talked a lot about how communism allowed for a different historical conception of freedom and how traditionalist liberal democracy is for losers. Anyway, I felt this fact needed recording, as that represented the last 2471 of approximately seventy thousand words of academic writing for this year. (Why my brain has not fallen out, I don't know.)

And this year isn't over yet. I have another day off tomorrow, as mentioned before, and then from Friday I am revising because I am a Good Person. Friday, 2nd June - exams are on the 19th and 20th - which is a thing of fear, because how can it be June? Last time I checked I'm pretty sure it was October 3rd. It was. And today I was filling in the requisite forms about coming back into residence (or not, in my case) in Michaelmas, on Tuesday, October 3rd. I don't know what happened to the last year of my life. It's faded like ink in water. I don't know what to think about it.

Anyway, moving on. I am having these days off because Adam - who is my personal tutor as well as political theory tutor - did as he said he would and intervened in my workload. Without macro, and with Marxism done, I could stay in and sleep and sleep and sleep. Fourteen hours, to be precise. And I was already teetering a bit having been awake for six hours. But here it is at 2.30 in the morning and I'm feeling, if not bouncy, then not ready for bed. And I guess that means that my days of sleeping most of the day away are coming to a middle.

In short: I'm feeling better. Not perfect still, and probably now I've said that I'm due a horrible relapse, but yes. Better. And it's probably due to the days off, because they've made all the difference. Yesterday's was spent doing all sorts of ridiculous things, beginning when I got out of bed after the hours and hours spent in it and informed Claire about my plans for the day: "I'm gong to Social Sciences to return books, and then I'm going to get a coffee somewhere and re-evaluate my life."

She sounded awkward. "Can you do that before three thirty and come punting?"

I could, and did, and although the weather was not fabulous, she and I and her friend Sonia piled into a boat and made tits of ourselves on the Cherwell. There was something funny about the currents yesterday, which made it very difficult to punt - and Claire and I are very bad at it anyway - and finally, coming round the island having successfully avoided the Isis and going to London by accident, we teetered into a thorn bush, swore a lot, rocked the boat and splash.

"It's only three feet deep," said Sonia after a minute. "My feet have touched the bottom."

I said later that it was blatant schadenfreude, but oh dear, it was very funny. Poor Sonia. She eventually gave up the struggle of actually punting, and decided to swim instead, pulling the punt along on a rope while we made helpful comments and tried not to giggle too much. The people at Magdalen Bridge jetty did their very best to hide their laughter, for which I think we were all grateful. (I'm just glad we didn't take a Balliol boat. There is no record of our utter incompetence. Claire asked, "What is it you always say about girls and punting?"

"We need to leave our feminist values in our other pants," I said.

"Yes! We need a man to go punting!"

"Sky wasn't that great," I reminded her.

She stared at me wildly. "We need a straight man to go punting!")

Today, I have not done anything nearly as exciting. I have been conscious and yet not tired, which is a start, and I have been for long walks up and around St Giles, which were also good, and eventually I drifted to Queerglish at the Union, which was rather amusing. The most amusing part was the impromptu collective effort to drive foulds to tears. This was eventually achieved by such varied devices "the Greeks and the Romans - all the same thing, really!" and "Julius Caesar and Elizabeth I were essentially contemporaneous, weren't they?"

(He didn't actually cry, but I think he might have done had there been much more frantic assertion that the Roman Empire fell because it was defeated by the Aztecs driving dinosaurs over the Alps with the help of the Doctor, the Daleks and a quasi-biblical rain of pleiosaurs.)

Well, it wouldn't be siller than The Da Vinci Code, which I also watched tonight, with Pat (Claire's gone to London) as a fitting finish to my day off. I don't really want to review it or anything remotely as cerebral; however, I will say that when the credits rolled, I said, "That was the best £5.80 I have ever spent in my life!" and meant it. It was so, so, ridiculous and melodramatic and silly, silly, so silly, and I had such a good time. So much fun, and Audrey Tatou is very pretty, so in conclusion, everyone should go and see it, and if you don't enjoy it it's 'cause you forgot to switch your brain off first.

And that's it for my days off, I guess. Tomorrow there's more Marxism, and a little more wandering, but nothing spectacular. I'm trying to not think about Oxford and my friends and the beauty around me at the moment, because I really, really have to revise. I plan to basically move into the Social Science Library and spend two weeks revising, emerge, blinking, into the sunlight only to plunge back into the dimness of Exam Schools, and then - then there is freedom. I am here a week after exams finish, and there's already a list as long as my arm for Things To Do In Ninth. It helps that my constant pimping has had an effect, and Pat is reading Brideshead Revisited and keeps telling me how wonderful it is. I particularly like the bit where Charles talks about waiting for Sebastian in a "café opposite Balliol."

Well, it's probably not Café Creme, as I doubt that it's been there since the nineteen-thirties, but a girl can dream. Re-reading Brideshead in the midst of a decadent ninth swanning around Oxford - it will yet happen. I'm feeling better. All I have to do is get there.

Comments

antihistamines

[genus-loci.livejournal.com]

Most pharmacies sell them and they're available without a prescription. Just off the top of my head Clarityn is one of the popular brands if you're searching through the shelves.

[icepixie]

Punts strike me as just about the only watercraft more prone to tipping over than canoes, and I've had quite enough of that for one lifetime.

I am insanely jealous of your free week in Oxford coming up. It sounds like so much fun.

[orientalflower.livejournal.com]

"We need a straight man to go punting!"

OMG. You crack me up!

[bekkypk.livejournal.com]

I can't get to the Doctors for my Hayfever tabs, but Sainsburys sell 7-day packs of Cetirizine Dihydrochloride, so I presume not all are prescription?
It's pretty good stuff, though it takes a couple of days to really kick in.
xx

[pinkdormouse.livejournal.com]

I see you've already got the anti-histamine advice. They've been available through pharmacists for a long time in the UK (though when I was in Italy in 1994 I had to get prescriptions from one of my bosses -- 'for the dog of Gina' *snerk* until Mum took pity on me and started posting them out to me). It still surprises me to see them in supermarkets though.

Before I wish you good luck with your exams, I was just wondering if I could sneak a look at your essay list sometime for novel-revision purposes, pretty please. I really want to write something in which James drags his Marxism notes back home to annoy his step-father (the fact that in England he mostly hangs out with two upper class socialists and one upper-middle class liberal just adds to the fun).

Anyway. Good luck with the revision, essay and exams. Hope you continue to feel good about life.

[pinkishmew.livejournal.com]

It's a strange feeling, being at the end of this year. Where, oh where did it go?

[thecapitalc.livejournal.com]

Have been wondering about you, my dear. Good to hear everything is going better :)

[the-acrobat.livejournal.com]

Oh oh oh! Congratulations on finishing your first year! And summer, and oh, bliss, I'm glad you're feeling better.

I'm trying to think whether or not I did over 70,000 words of academic writing this year and I'm not exactly sure, though it is tempting to pour all of my essays and presentation scripts into one big Word file and find out. 1st year at Oxford = 1st year graduate study anywhere else? No wonder they make most Rhodes scholars do a second Bachelor's degree.

Your punting story is hilarious. You must take me punting when I come visit and I promise to quote Brideshead at you and be utterly ridiculous. It will be fun.

In other less interesting news, did you get my recent e-mail?

[cedara]

I agree on the Cetirizine.

Re: antihistamines

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Thanks! :)

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

*laughs* Ah, yes, I remember! I'm actually not bad at canoeing, from what I remember, but me + punt = rubbish.

It will be fun! But first all the revision and exams. Waaah.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Heee, glad to hear it!

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Thanks, I'll look into it. :)

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Thanks, for advice and good wishes! *g*

I shall send along the other reading list when I, um, find it. :) Anything else you're after, research-wise?

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Very, very good question. *looks under bed for it*

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Hello there! I was just thinking about you yesterday. Are you very busy, or could we perhaps go picnicking/café-ing at some point?

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Gleee! *schnoogle*

Rhodes scholars do a second Bachelor's degree? That makes me feel so much better about myself you have no idea. Rhodes scholars scare me because they are all foreign and exotic and exude disdain for the awfully quaint Brits and yes. I have issues.

And yes, yes, we will go punting and we will drink Pimms and fall in the river and it will be wonderful! Everything about you coming to visit will be wonderful!

Yes. Yes I did and I am DYING OF SQUEE. Remus! Lovely lonely Remus! And John omg, and they are so adorable and I want them to get married and have thousands of little wolfie babies and I am only on the bottom of page three!

[pinkdormouse.livejournal.com]

Thanks for that. At the moment my only other bit of novel-related angst that's directly Oxford-related is whether the floor in the Pitt Rivers is wood or stone. I think stone, but I want to be certain before I do a little experiment here.

[bekkypk.livejournal.com]

I swear by the stuff, and my hayfever (and my exzema) is pretty bad. Cetirizine helps me control both though.
xx

[bekkypk.livejournal.com]

It does help me a lot, with both the Exzema and the Hayfever *nod*
xx

[cedara]

I used to get it prescribed, but they changed that and so I have to buy it myself when I need some. I used to need it daily, but since the rheuma medication changed my immune system reactions, I seem to get along with a cheaper homeopathic med insteads. *knocks on wood*

[bekkypk.livejournal.com]

I had it on prescription because 3 years ago I had a really bad summer for it. I was deaf for about five weeks of the summer, just due to the hayfever gunk ending up in my middle ear. And despite the bad weather its actually getting quite bad again this year, so I may have to see if I can get more.
Thats interesting, what sort of homeopathic meds help?
xx

[pinkishmew.livejournal.com]

Did you look behind the fridge? When I lose something, it's nearly always there. [/Cat from Red Dwarf]

[the-acrobat.livejournal.com]

*schnoogle*

They do! I had a prof in 2nd year or so who used to go on and on about how special her daughter was because she wasn't made to do a second bachelor's but got to do graduate work instead. I had another prof who was a Rhodes scholar and she mostly went on about the swans.

What exactly is foreign and exotic? Disdain, fah! Envy is what it is. As for quaintness, I can relate to that... not on a national scale, but on a regional one... Do these people *tell* you you're quaint? Because that's when it really gets dire.

Your description of falling in the river reminded me so strongly of that scene, and I can't remember whether it was in the book or just in the film, in Anne of Green Gables when Anne and I think Prissy Andrews and maybe some others are out in a boat and they tip over and get completely soaked...

I'm glad you like the story so far. :D I didn't mean to nag, but I was so worried the e-mail hadn't gone through.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

You know, I knew nearly nothing about the Rhodes scholarships before I arrived at Oxford, and I've just spent a very entertaining twenty minutes looking up info about them. There's a bit where it says PPE may be "very demanding for a novice" - jesusgod, I wish someone had told me that. But I don't get it, actually - why all the extra preparation if the scholars are doing second BA degrees (or doing a Masters, at that)? I mean, I'm doing PPE straight out of school, along with all the other home students.

But yes, they are all foreign and exotic 'cause they have American accents, mostly, and say things like "sidewalk" and "stoplight" and they tend to socialise with each other, and there's one guy in particular I see every night wearing a pink shirt, who got stuck next to me my first formal college dinner and talked at length about how he went to Harvard and did all sorts of terribly important things there, while I nodded and smiled and tried not to mention I was eighteen-and-a-half and came from bloody Liverpool.

That was a very long sentence, I do apologise. *g* But I think that one guy biased me against them all. And he didn't exactly say I was quaint, but he implied it. Huh.

Heee! I am like Anne! But there was no Gilbert to pull me out. (And I was so disappointed when she didn't forgive him at that point. But I digress.)

I LOVE the story so far. Did I mention that? And I read through the wiki pages and they are amazing and glorious. I love the concept. I love the story. I shall have it back to you fairly shortly. :)

[gamesiplay.livejournal.com]

why all the extra preparation if the scholars are doing second BA degrees (or doing a Masters, at that)?

Because it turns out American higher education, at least, sucks almost uniformly? I wish someone had told me that before I decided to embark on mine.

[/really, really bitter student mode]

Actually, [/really, really bitter general mode]

[cedara]

Galphimia glauca, Allium cepa, Sabadilla. What you use depends on what kind of hayfever you have. You should only use a D12 dose at maximum, nothing higher.

Since I don't have the money to seek out a homeopath (my insurance doesn't cover that), I've used Galphimia glauca D12 so far.

[the-acrobat.livejournal.com]

why all the extra preparation if the scholars are doing second BA degrees (or doing a Masters, at that)? I mean, I'm doing PPE straight out of school, along with all the other home students.

*mutter mutter mutter* Imperialism *mutter mutter mutter* Colonialism... I'm sure you get the idea. I think it's that rather than any inadequacy in the system here for a few reasons, notably that sometimes people *do* go to Oxford or wherever straight out of highschool from here and don't spontaneously combust from the workload, and that people do go there to do higher degrees outside of the Rhodes programme and don't end up making complete fools of themselves. As for buddy from Harvard, well, I'm guessing he felt he had something to prove, since you were doing out of highschool what he most likely spent his entire university career preparing for. Haha.

American accents are not exotic. And what *do* you say for "sidewalk" and "stoplight," then?

I had a roommate who used to use all sorts of words like "quaint" and "cute" as applied to me, my lifestyle, the part of the world I come from... I wanted to shout things at her like "we are not scale models! This is not a museum! Figure this out or go back to Toronto before someone less patient than me slaps you!"

Oh, Anne, and her stubbornness! The capsising I'm thinking of isn't the one where she was being the Lady of Shalott and the boat sank. I think this one might have happened after the garden party with the ice cream or something like that. Obviously it's time for me to re-read and re-watch.

Hurray! She loves it! *does a little dance* I'm kind of obsessed with Bookverse!John myself.

[the-acrobat.livejournal.com]

*snuggles you*

[thehairyfairy.livejournal.com]

pavement & traffic light. grrr

[bekkypk.livejournal.com]

Thats interesting. I'll have to read up on them. Thanks for the info :)
xx

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Ah, for that one I'm not sure. I keep trying to picture it in my head, and failing. If you're willing to wait 'til ninth, I'll go and check, and if not you could try oxonians. :)

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

*glomp* Urgh. I'm so sorry life is not treating you well.

(I think the Rhodes scholars will forever remain a mystery to me. Me =/= quaint.)

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Oh, yes, I get the idea. I'm not entirely sure what the game is, between Oxford and the top over-the-pond universities. Is it a superiority or an inferiority complex? And which way round is it? The mind boggles.

American accents are exotic, though! Maybe "exotic" isn't the word, but they attract attention. Even now, to me they are something I associate with television and films rather than real people. And it doesn't help that their owners are usually equally befuddled by the plethora of British regional accents.

As my grumpy friend below has commented (don't mind him(, we say "pavement" and "traffic light."

Did she capsize another time? I totally missed that. Clearly it's time for me to re-read, too. (I'm still so impressed that Green Gables is a real place! Heee!)

I do. I love the whole thing, especially Rodney's bookshop. They're all so lovely!

[pinkdormouse.livejournal.com]

The nineth should be okay, thanks. Although I may slope over to the comm as well.

Thanks again.

[the-acrobat.livejournal.com]

Oh... that's tough. Harvard does think highly of itself, doesn't it? My comments about imperialism and colonialism were directed at Cecil Rhodes, specifically. Ohh... I think it's an inferiority complex because the big US universities *want* to be the big UK universities but aren't, and can't because they only have a few hundred years of history behind them and you can't buy history. Someone wrote a really interesting article for the Horn Book magazine about the US and royalty envy in the context of The Princess Diaries (well, comparing various YA chicklit series) that made a lot of sense and might apply in this context.

We only have one university that the US respects and I think it's pretty funny because it isn't even our best one.

I always sort of wondered what an American accent would sound like to a British ear. I like to think about the way one would describe a particular accent... a Quebecois accent is sort of a drawl, for example, with long vowels, and I think it's interesting to contemplate what another accent would sound like from a point of view that I can't even fathom. So, describe?

I say "traffic light" rather than "stop light," come to think of it, or just "the lights." "Turn right at the lights," or "I'll meet you at the lights." "Pavement" is the hard stuff that you drive or walk on. But now that I know that it isn't the same for you, I'm thinking about so many songs differently. It's like the revelation I had two weeks ago when I finally discovered that "my camp" refers to the actual building that I would refer to as "my cottage" rather than the piece of land on which it is constructed, in the local dialect.

She did! But I'm really not sure if it happened in the book or just in the film. In the one, she sinks. In the other, the boat tips and someone falls out. I think. Oh god... just look it up, self, just look it up. ;)