Pages

Saturday, 30 January 2010

Eight Weeks


I opened up my 2009 organizer to check a friend's birthday and there were so many entries from this time last year that I recall very clearly. So much has changed.

There are: reminders about paying battels; Ralph's lectures on books & scribes; Mary Carruthers's talks ('Hot Tears and Cold Reason'); my joint birthday party with Dan ('do you like to drink copiously?'); of course also February 11th, when you made me porkchops on Walton street (with chocolate cake for dessert). I remember cake for breakfast across the street, and then cycling off to meet the Warden in my gown. In the 'Notes' section of that week my organizer reads:

'shit shit shit - I hope you've done shitloads of work!'
I suppose I must have. I did well in Hilary Term.

The Hilary Term BTD was on the 2nd of March. On that same day I was suppose to have produced an outline for my B-essay. I remember what a wore to the black-tie: a halter-neck dress gathered at the waist, black with white bows printed on the fabric, and a red flower pin in my hair. A certain person who shall remain nameless wore a backless dress and looked so sexy. She took a picture of us kissing in the Keble bar.

Some entries mean nothing to me. Why was I going to New College at 2 pm on the 5th of March?

There's also Sarah's birthday dinner, which I couldn't attend because I was working so much. Hilary Term = hitting the panic button so hard it broke. I've never pulled all-nighters before, and never have since. I still remember handing in my papers at the exam schools, wearing DJ's clothes from head to toe, including his underwear. There was a loose agreement of: I will work all night at the library, he will set up his camp-bed; I will let myself into the lodge at 6 am, and get up at 8 and brush my teeth with the toothbrush I keep in his bathroom, open his socks and underwear drawer, dress myself, borrow his other clothes, and get back to work;...

It's good having a friend who's like a little brother, but better.

There's also Penny Bateman is a Hero Day; lunch with Maria at Jaipur; rugby games (which I was never able to attend); May Day on Magdalen Bridge; swim test at Iffley; Summer Eights; Keble garden party; dissertation due June 15th, 2009.

Oh and of course the Trinity Term BTD, May 14th. I tore my dress dancing, and wondered if I'd ever be so happy again. In fact, I wondered that a lot back then.

... eight weeks - and then Trinity ended. Entries in the organizer drop off sharply from that point (and there's nothing after August 31st).

I remember walking through Keble after submitting my dissertation and suddenly feeling like it's not my place anymore. Sure, I could still get into the MCR, all my friends were around, the pidge in the porter's lodge has my name on it (and my post in it), but something has quietly moved on. Is that also one of the reasons why I made up my mind to leave?


{What is it then, that (everyday) makes me want to go back?}


{Oh, it must be the memories.}

August 31st, 2009. 3:35 pm, BA99, Terminal 5 ...
amazing how this entry brings everything back.

Time never moves backwards, and I don't believe in crossing the same river twice. But is there a way to loop 'round and pick up what was left behind? That, I think, would make me very happy. I suppose I haven't had enough.

0 comments: