Matriculation Dinner!

Cambridge University life

I’ve already shoved my photos up on Facebook and e-mailed some round, but did mean to blog a few too:

Me and Sophie

Me and Sophie

Joe, Yang and Irfan

Joe, Yang and Irfan

The great hall!

The great hall!

During dinner, my DoS was interested about why people blog. I’m not entirely sure, but to be honest the prospect of writing a private diary fills me with dread (plus the desire to talk in the third person would probably be irresistibly overwhelming) so I’m not planning to stop any time soon

It’s a busy weekend – Lucy’s visiting! – but luckily I have an extra day to do my essay on due to some fortunate shifting around of times, although I’ve already started writing this week’s piece on affluence. Ah, affluence. The Labour Party’s reaction to affluence during the 1950s can be summed up – if I may be so bold – as a sort of grumpy irritation. My absolute favourite historical fact of the week, though, comes from Contemporary British History, 1931-61:

“The promotion effort to push Limmits, an early slimming product, had to be rethought when research found that working-class women did not particularly mind being overweight, and indeed associated stoutness with a range of positive characteristics.”

Well, it amused me

Oh, and my old friend Ankit sent me photos of his first flight. His first flight! As a pilot! Here I am, can’t even drive, and he’s flying… wow!

The one breathing space in the week – between handing in my weekly essay and Supervision tomorrow – and consequently a perfect time to blog. I’m just committed the intellectual version of gym membership, paying an absence amount of money for lifetime membership of The Cambridge Union Society and hoping that this outlay will encourage me to go. Although I really shouldn’t need much prompting, with an incredible array of speakers and debates to tempt me over three years.

On the topic of extravagant spending, or not, I’d like to take a moment to evangelise the McFlurry. Despite claims to the contrary, a McFlurry is a truly wondrous piece of design – not just for the food – but, I think, for the spoon. After being lured into the bright lights of McDonald’s last night to buy one, I was reunited with the big, thick, square spoon you get with a McFlurry. It’s a power spoon. You don’t peck at a McFlurry, you eat it boldly, griping the spoon \ shovel as required. No-one could argue that masculinity was ever in crisis when we still have the McFlurry.

(Try not to take the above too seriously, yeah?)

Tonight I’m going out to celebrate Yang’s birthday. Happy birthday Yang! He lives down my hall and is currently drowning in medical textbooks which are each the size of a hefty child. While I’m on my cherished Monday afternoon, hehe.

Wow…

is it a measure of incredible incompetence that I managed to wake up 8.53 for a 9.00 lecture, or a measure of astonishing competence that I still got there on time, dressed and everything? Either way, I hope it demonstrates how wonderfully close my accommodation is to the lecture site

I type this as I hurriedly catch up on some Coco Pops before the next lecture at 12

I’m referring, of course, to the Habsburg Empire but perhaps there’s a case for applying it to Cambridge, too?

Loving lectures at the moment. There were three today: on Ireland in the late 18th century, on British politics in the 19th, and on the position of women in the Victorian era. The latter last was the best, being one of those wonderfully good lectures, and coming with a comprehensive set of notes already (appeals to my lazy side ) so that you could just sit back and listen. Fascinating issues too, examining different explanations for how the position of women was justified, rather than just what it was. Saoirse, that lecture was for you.

Last night was parents’ night, so I thought it was high time I provided a photo of my brilliantly cool college parents, Felix and Rosa. They bought us pizza! (I have a brother and a sister too.) And there was a party, with chocolate cakes and cake and pass the parcel… really, there’s no better way to live.

Quintessentially student

Quintessentially student

Pass the parcel

Pass the parcel

Mum and dad!

Mum and dad!

Essay’s going well, btw, and I’m just back from a great night out at Nando’s and then back at the college bar…

The following sign is not from my building, but from K Block:

Ew

Ew