So in the long scheme of things, week went quite well. Tuesday was spent at lecture/wandering through 8 libraries. Discovered one I must study in. But, trying to get a book from the stacks went like this:

Me: Could you please tell me where LW reference is?

Grumpy-librarian-who-wants-to-go-on-break: LW?

Me: I wrote this number down (shows call #)

GLWWTGOB: Are you sure that's an LW? (raises eyebrow)

Me: I think so. It's Rilke. Does that make sense?

GLWWTGOB: Can you fill out a slip?

Me: What, I'm sorry?

GLWWTGOB: A slip. Put it in the box.

Me: (fills out slip. puts in box.) Thanks

GLWWTOB: It'll be fifteen minutes

Me: Should I wait?

GLWWTGOB: It'll be fifteen minutes

Me: Okay, I'll come back. Thank you.

-- Enter 48 minute interlude in which I talk to father on cell phone/get a coffee/ talk to mother/ walk back---

Me: Hi. I had a stack request

New Librarian: Your name?

GLWWantedTGOB: (to new librarian) It's in the box

Me: -blank stare-

NL: That'll be about fifteen minutes

Me: Okay, thanks, I'll come back at 6.

--fin---

So system a bit different. But I ended up with a stack of books on Gogol/his St. Petersburg stories, which I was doing my essay on for tut this week, Malory's Le Morte DArthur, and 6 poetry books, plus A. Carter short stories.

Wednesday had free lunch at Pizza Express, which sounds like a remake of Pizza Hut, but its name belies its true nature. It's actually quite classy and apparently Shakespeare directed Hamlet (or at least a version of it) inside the building where PE is now. It was also all we could eat: ie 2 desserts/one large cappuccino. This program had to be good for something. Did some reading, then went to JCR/club called Thirst. Met interesting brits from up north. Also went to magic chips/falafel street truck, known to us now as Hasan's (interesting, no? Jasmine? Okay.) Wore heels. Dubious choice.

Thursday did not make it to lecture 1 on Blok, got to 12.00 on Joyce (clearly) and wrote essay between 2-5 in order to go out on charity-date event. Girls paired up and picked 2 guys names that then took them to dinner. I a. was put under duress in a v. non-sober state to sign up for this and b. thought it was Friday, post-tut. No, no, oh, no. So decided to suck it up, went with J. (ie cool new friend) and it actually turned out to be AH-mazing. We went with 2 guys who were our "dates" and then another group of 4, including the girl who organized the whole thing. First went to some bar themed as heaven, so instead of happy hour, they had "heavenly hour." Tried something called an english rose. Day-um. Went to a tapas bar w/ thumbs-up sangria, discussed potatoes, ox slang, banter, chat, the rules of what does or does not make something gay, ie "not if its with your left hand." Mmm. Then went to House bar, met up w/ rest of St. Catz crew, had excellent white russian and chatted more re: why a bike with 2 baskets is twice the man, and heard a rendition of FotC "Bret, You've Got It Going On." Not bad actually.

Went to both Hardy/Shakespeare this morning. Discovered why it is bad to be a baby-killer. Also that Shakespeare didn't really research. Had tutorial, not sure if my tutor a. wants to surpass what I wrote my essay on or b. thinks I'm a dumbass and knows I wrote this paper in 3 hours and wants to avoid said topic. BUT, I get to read Master n' Margarita + Brothers Karamazov + Chekov + Gorky on something re: the devil so it's all good. Had to do dinner out tonight b/c Hall involved too many mushrooms. Not a fan. Found place with a. potatoes b. free wine = success. Wandered around Teddy Hall, aka St. Edmund's, and sketchily scampered through their "closed to the public" dorms. I can wave a student ID like it's nobody's business.

Was going to go back to puffer fish club, decided too cold, finished book that's due back instead. The Golden Girls live on. Am going to be cultural tomorrow and see a play.

Also discovered it might not be bad to be at a school whose students want to become one with O. Wilde. He did write this: I will build a rose out of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own heart’s-blood. All I ask of you in return is that you will be a true lover, for Love is wiser than Philodophy, though she is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is mighty. Flame-coloured are his wings, and coloured like flame is his body. His lips are sweet as honey, and his breath is like frankincense

But, the most important lesson I have learned from my reading so far here is clearly this: finally this story shows that pure water and brown bread are enough nourishment for young women, as long as they have beautiful clothes. No?