Closure

Over Christmas Simon and I flew over to British Columbia to spend time with Robin and Gerald - friends I made in Korea. They gave us a wonderful tour of west Canada, staying with Robin's various family members along the way and getting the local's perspective of Christmas in Canada. It was the perfect break away from work, studying, and the UK's influx of snow in December.

But now I'm well and truly settled in the UK again. The sarcasm has returned, along with an appreciation for talking about the weather and exchanging cynical remarks with fellow Brits about this, that and the other. And here I plan to stay, at least for now. Since this was a blog to keep up with my life back in England after returning from Korea after 18 months, I think it's time to lie it to rest.

The banality of native living has returned. I'm not sure it's really bloggable.

(But since I'm now a blogaholic, see my *new* blog on my life as a linguophile ;)

Snow on the horizon

I ripped my jeans today. It's dancing around 0 degrees. My knees are going to get cold. Time to crack out the tights.

New Moon

Well it's a good job they cast Jacob Black as a hotty as there wasn't much else going for this film. And considering I'm a vampire fiend and a Twilight enthusiast, that's saying something.

Admittedly this is the worst of the books of the Twilight Saga, with Bella dreaming every night and screaming in her sleep (thank god they didn't play that out too much), but the film was so-o-slow and plotless, and with a distinct lack of acting. Alice the vampire is pretty cute, but her minimal screen time doesn't make up for the fact that I was completely unengaged and eager to run from the cinema.

And I cried at Mary Poppins, and got scared by Glorious 39. I'm not one to be unengaged.

Christmas Hall and Fez nightclub

I went along to the Trinity Hall Christmas dinner last night (which sold out in a record 10 minutes), which was far more impressive than their usual formal Grad Halls -- there was no rogue dish with dubious looking meat, for one! Christmas crackers, choir, jolly carol singing and mince pies made it well worth a night out. It was followed by my first proper big night out in Cambridge at Fez, where it was good to bop to some latin beats and let my hair down.

Despite the holidays being a prime opportunity to knuckle down with some work, the end of term definitely brings a festive cheer, and with it a day in bed with a big bottle of water.

Happy Christmas!

I can't believe that 8 weeks have already passed and that today is the official end of term. What has happened?

--I have developed a love of semantics, and thrown all previous expectations of a mathematic/syntactic future out of the window

--I have competed in my first ever latin & ballroom dance competition, doing averagely well, but mostly viewing first hand the Oxford/Cambridge rivalry that exists

--I have become addicted to taking part in research experiments for minimal amounts of money, giving-myself-up-for-science, and subsequently gone cold turkey as the commitments sliced into my workday

--I have been given the dSLR camera of my choice from my generous bro, and consequently discovered an ebay obsession searching for new lenses

All in all, a good term, and just a busy holiday of essay writing ahead!

Week 2

It's raining. My feet are wet. I skipped my syntax class in favour of tea in the University Library. Which is, by the way, huge. The research methods seminar on library resources was very informative, but equally intimidating. "You will be an expert in your field," at this point in time is just not seeming like a plausible statement. But I'm happy. So perhaps I haven't hit the ground running as fast as I'd like, but at least I'm yet to stumble over a rock into a muddy heap. It's easy to freak out with notions that it's already a quarter of the way through the term and I'm only just figuring out a sensible filing system, but it's not particularly constructive.

Student again

So here I am, all settled in the small market city of Cambridge, a mere 30 minutes from my hometown. Postgrad communal living appears to be a lot more considerate than undergrads would you have believe they were capable of, I've done more reading the last week than I've done in the last year, and Cambridge take their dancing seriously which will help keep the birthday chocolates off. OK, time to hit the books again...