Matriculation dinner, Windsor castle, etc.

The thing about not having class on Fridays is that I tend to sit around and not do anything. I have reading to do, and an essay to write, but no! Let's update my blog, shall we?

On Monday, we had a formal matriculation dinner at the College. Rumor has it, this was the best meal we'll get all year... and it was FREE. The food was indeed delicious: a three-course meal including smoked salmon with cream cheese, pork with roasted vegetables, and a lime marscapone tart. It also involved candles, more silverware than I've ever seen, mandatory gown-wearing, and lots and lots of wine. (heh) Oh yeah, and I got to sit at the head table, next to the Master of the college. (Don't know what the equivalent of his position would be in the US... something like the Dean, on a slightly smaller scale?) I'm not entirely sure how I managed this. Apparently he wanted to sit next to a linguist, or something. At any rate, it was a bit intimidating sitting in the middle of the high table, next to the Master, but I managed to make enough small talk. (and then he turned to other people at the table and I could just sit back and listen) The guy has this amazingly dry sense of humor. Added bonus: I got to hear all sorts of sordid stories about the College.

The rest of the week has been pretty much awful, with this (8-page) essay I have due on Monday. I spent the entire day Wednesday in the library reading for it, and didn't understand a thing. Just now, I sort of have an idea, but I haven't started writing yet. We'll see if I actually do know what I'm talking about when I start working on it.

Randomly, here's a picture of my house. Or, more accurately, the house in which I rent an 11' by 7' cubicle. I live on Windsor Road (how English!), so I suppose you could call this Windsor Castle:

Pictures of my cell room available upon request.

WTF?

My housemate asked me earlier this evening if I was going to play violin today. (strangely, this is not an uncommon question from him) I said yeah, I have to practice for the wedding I'm playing in tomorrow, but I'd rather not have it recorded, ha ha. He was like, okay, I won't tape record it. I thought that this was a weird turn of phrase, but whatever.

So I wait until he's downstairs watching TV, and I play around for about half an hour. I pack up, leave the room, and he's standing there with the camera and says, 'Can you do that last part again?' WTF, dude?? I was pretty ticked off at this point and was like, 'I asked you not to record me.' He goes, 'I said I wouldn't tape record you.' I was like, seriously, this is not funny. I'm not going to get into a semantic argument with you right now; the point is, I asked you not to tape me practicing, and you did it anyway. When he saw that I was so pissed off, he said, 'Okay, okay, I'll erase it.'

WTF, dude. If this tape even ends up on the internet, I will be so pissed. Creeeeepy.