As promised, now that I (finally!) have proper Internet access I can blog a photo or two...





Although there has been a lot going on, I wish to pick one amusing highlight from the last week (aside from, y'know, the Continuing Collapse Of Global Capitalism (TM)) - the moment when I was walking home and passed a guy handing out leaflets for Henry V. (Not in a belated act of campaigning, you understand, but for the play.) He was also, at the same time, reciting lines from said play in grand Shakespearian style. Being a Londoner I put on my best 'no I don't want another London Lite' face and tried to walk on by before the guy stopped me, looked directly into my eyes and declared - in the same Shakespearian manner - "but we Ken Livingstone supporters must stick together!"

It did take me a moment of wondering whether I was inadvertently wearing some giant badge before I realised that I'd campaigned with him back in April

Genuine enthusiasm time: 2008's Caius May Ball - City Lights - was one of the best experiences in my entire life, ever. Sure, we'd heard that May Balls were something special to look forward to. The eye-watering ticket prices do suggest that it's going to be big. But it's impossible to fully describe what they're really like: extravagant, amazing, luxurious, decadent, wonderful. We arrived at 8pm for champagne before dinner at 9pm... and by 'dinner' I mean a fabulous five course meal lasting two hours accompanied by white wine, red wine, dessert wine and port. And then, armed with a beautifully designed programme, we had the entire night to explore what was on offer in the college grounds and rooms. Which was more than anyone could possibly take in over just one night! From bands such as Supergrass and British Sea Power playing on stage to burlesque, jazz and blues performances. Magicians, clairvoyants, comedians and mind readers. Classic interwar films in a cinema, rides, games and dancing. And all through the night, unlimited - and free! - food and drink: martinis, Pimm's, beer, larger lager, wine and much else besides - including tea! - alongside crepes, seafood, candy floss, doughnuts, ice-cream, chocolate fountains and, again, just about everything you could wish for. We partied all night until the survivors' photo at 5.30!



There are so many magical moments from last night, a few of which are captured in my photo gallery which will be accompanied by Facebook photos shortly. It can't tell the whole story, however, of how wonderful it was to enjoy such an amazing party and round off a year of uni with so many good friends - and Lucy. So if you ever get the chance, don't turn down a ticket to a Cambridge May Ball!

Because everyone will rave about the main bands playing, I thought I'd share a little glimpse of my own personal little highlight from the night: Kitty La Roar and Nick Of Time. Here they are performing a mashup of Shaggy and Robbie Williams... great fun



Oh, and I've just turned 19! Hurray

Phew. I have just enjoyed the most rewarding shower, a lovely long, hot and strong affair. The Garden Party - which has been causing Abi and I great stress over the past week with a particularly hairy 'we have no barbecue?' few days towards the end - came off without a hitch. Despite a weather forecast of showers the rain held off, albeit threatening us with drops once or twice before deciding to be generous and give us sun. Many thanks are in order too: to Abi, obviously, to Owen, who did a fantastic job as head chef behind the barbecue despite not even being a historian, to Oliver and Joe who gave us loads of time rather than standing back and watching us struggle, to Sophie for her (wifely) moral support, to Tom, Felix and Richard for lending us their expertise gleamed last year - and, in Richard's case, mixing our Pimm's! - and to GCSU and the porters for everything. And to everyone who came, too! Hurray!



Sorry about the poor quality photos, but they're better than nothing and - as Owen put it - we wanted something to prove that it happened. Event management is hard though. I don't know how my mother - or Nic - does it In fact, it wasn't until it was all over that I suddenly remembered that it was Doctor Who tonight! So now Abi, Oliver and I have our evening's entertainment all planned out too yay!

Thank you, Oliver and Abi! These two generous souls rustled up some Dalek cookies before I arrived and presented them to me tonight, as these pictures testify. Cooking-wise it actually all went a little bit wrong, and sadly it's not quite possible to eat the gently charcoaled cookies in addition to admiring their beauty, but to be honest hearing the story of the gyp room filling with so much smoke during their creation that they had to be taken outside for fear of setting the fire alarm off was just as entertaining. Anyway, it was lovely, so thanks

I have (mostly) unpacked, and am all set to have a solid day of revision tomorrow with Abi for the Paper 6 mock on Monday. But, much to my relief, there are at least two others who feel that it really isn't that big a deal, as the mock doesn't really mean anything, and going in with low expectations might be the best thing to do under the circumstances! Then term will start officially on Tuesday, with Themes and Sources returning for Wednesday (mental note - do the work for that ASAP...) and lectures beginning on Thursday. Apart from the fact that the lecture timetable this term is very sparse - as most subjects have exams - and I don't think I actually have any on Thursday at all. More reading time, I guess

And yes, of course I'm still watching Doctor Who. How did anyone survive without the iPlayer?!

The title of this post was developed in conjunction with Sophie Rodger, who's hip to the blogging beat.

Like so many others, back in the days of my childhood - young enough to do roly-polys without a second thought, say - I used to come home and be asked what I'd learnt that day at school. OK, well in reality I was picked up from the playground and asked what I'd learnt that day at school, and incidentally apparently roly-poly doesn't pass muster as a word anymore - gambol indeed?! - but anyway: no matter how many times you patiently explained that education was really a cyclical process which considered largely of reinforcing existing knowledge (what, you didn't?) the question still served perfectly well as a conversation starter, and as such I intend to employ it now in order to speed through a week's worth of blogging material. (Phew, a sentence with 92 words - that's almost Archbishop of Canterbury standard!) So, what did I learn on...

Tuesday? That UKIP's leader, Nigel Farage, is very good at keeping almost all signs of bubbling boiling anger tucked underneath his suit. In fact, during his appearance at Peterhouse's Politics Society (cheers Andrew, btw) he maintained a thoroughly respectable demeanour and spoke rationally and - dare I say - convincingly. Almost. Just once or twice, at the suggestion that we'd have to drive on the right-hand side of the road, for example, you could hear the real UKIP - the brotherhood of flags UKIP - bursting to get out. "Why shouldn't we drive on the right-hand side of the road?" asked someone cautiously in response. Nigel paused, squeezed the devil inside once more, and said something about the cost of changing road signs.

Wednesday? That MI6 actually planned the murder of Diana for hundreds, nay, thousands of years before the event, carefully setting up all the components - including the invention of the motorcar, say, or alcohol - just to facilitate her grizzly death. No, not really. Not really because Sir Richard Dearlove, who was speaking at the Union, thankfully refused to take any questions on the persistent princess, choosing instead to cover such mundane topics like, ur, terrorism. I won't bother you with any further trifles of detail. Twas good, though.

Thursday? That if you go out for a pub 'trip' - not a crawl, mind, more of a gentle stroll to the alehouse and back - you have a really nice time, talk about Carol Ann Duffy and don't wake up with a hangover either. Photos of me looking distinctly creepy are on my Facebook. I urge you to ignore them and look instead at the photos of Michael actually smiling.

Friday? That the night Lucy comes to visit is the night when Cambridge turns itself into something out of gothic horror, with blustering winds and grey storm clouds thundering over the darkened figure of King's college looming up from the mist. I think we all felt a little Dracula. Some more than others.

Saturday? There's only one answer if a stranger knocks on your door and asks you if you'd like to take part in a pheromone test: yes, please. In servicing the questions of science (science and progress, speaking as loud as my androstadienone...) I dutifully smelled an array of, um, little bits of white cloth doused in various chemicals from clear-plastic bags and pronounced my preferences. He asked if I found any of them particularly unpleasant. I found none of them particularly unpleasant. Open mind? Or just a blocked nose?

Sunday? As I got down to actually writing an essay, I learnt a glittering gem of a historical anecdote: Protestant midwives in the German lands during the sixteenth century were instructed to report all illegitimate births, and furthermore find out - by hook or by crook - who the father was. (No immaculate conceptions, then?) How exactly would they go about doing this? The authorities helpfully suggesting posing the question at the point of the greatest labour pains. Y'know, when the women would presumably be keen for a chat on patriarchy. I can see this idea being adopted in the modern era, actually... Pardon me ma'am, but it seems like you're in labour. Have you ever considered combining your gas and electricity bills into a single supplier? Could save you enough to buy an epidural!

Monday? I get on with my mother wonderfully well, but especially so when she buys me dinner. Thanks! Especially since it was Mother's Day+1. Also, and finally, I learnt where I'll be living next year. Good to clear that up, really.