Darlings! How wonderful it is to be posting on this fine long evening. I feel like starting a Tom Waits singalong along the lines of "stubmling into the heart of saturday night," except that it is friday and thus such farouche music will not suffice.
The aim of this blog is to let you, the reader, into my world. The world of Oxbridge, the ancient (or medieval) building, the ancient (certainly, in most cases) tutors, the social life, ah, the social life. All of it, unedited, totally true. This is my life.
I spent part of tonight at New College End of Term Bop. They have the most wonderfully atmospheric bar, it should be perfect for a Bop. But no, consistently, without ever failing, they manage to ruin it horribly by attempting, naively one can only hope, to turn it into a hip and happening nightclub like the Bridge. It doesn't work, it simply doesn't, dearest. No, they ought to have lit the place decently, with light higlighting the splendid architecture and yet, the night was dismal.
And that is saying nothing of the attrocious dancing.Why is it that the most intellectually capable individuals in the country are also, almost without fail, the most rythmically inept?