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December 2011

11 posts

2011, a year in review

Last year I made a post like this as well, so I thought I may as well make it into a tradition (If you do something twice it becomes a tradition). Last year it seemed kind of easy to write, but this year it seems like it might be a good way of summing up a year which has left me a very different person than when I started it. It’s also been a year defined, in various ways, by Oxford. I feel much more exposed now, writing about things that actually happened in my life, than I do when I write vaguely introspective things.

The Things I Won’t Forget: Learning more about class and how the other half live in four muddy, drunken days on the Isle of Wight than thousands of pages of politics and sociology. Applying to Oxford; I’ve learnt my lesson and suffice to say I’ll never do it again –though being interviewed at Wadham was brilliant – I can’t wait to be back!

The Relationships: Adrien: the boy that I rather accidentally encountered, and who probably shaped the past year or two of my life far more than I’d ever care to admit. We dated for all of 6 months, but it was him who told me which Oxford college to apply for, and the person who ultimately convinced me I wanted it. I suppose then, that it’s ironic we split up because he was off to read Lit Hum at New College, Oxford. By the end we were a ridiculous couple with our matching Acne jackets, jeans and shirts. I can’t pretend that I don’t miss him occasionally.

The Best Days: The Wadham interviews; they were fantastic fun. The day I got my Oxford offer – I don’t think I’ve ever cried from happiness before, but suffice to say I did upon reading that letter. Though walking into the living room tear-streaked to tell my parents made them think something all together different had happened.

The Worst Days: I think the darkest days were the days as me and Adrien were breaking up – I dread to think how intolerable I was. How empty. Or how full of alcohol and cigarette smoke.
And if I may pick a single hour, then the hour on the train leaving Oxford was pretty dark. I think as that train sped away I genuinely believed that I’d never return to the dreaming spires, that I’d blown the dream and that it was time to remember what I liked about Bristol.

The Most Memorable Moment: Sat on my stairs, opening my Oxford letter. I think I’ll have to receive a marriage proposal before I forget that. Or maybe kissing Adrien for the first time; it seems only right that I should offer both the bitter and the sweet memories.

My Friends: I fear that I’ve been rather hard on my friends this year; I gave a lot to getting into Oxford, and I can’t express how patient so many people have been with me this year. Suffice to say I’ll miss them all in October.

My Birthday: Well, I had a family celebration on my actual birthday, and consequently went hungover to an English Literature exam. The other celebration was a house party that culminated in four of my friends having an orgy, and my then boyfriend throwing up.

The Holidays: Venice, Budapest, Bestival. They were all interesting in their own ways: I learnt that Venice is the worst city in the world to get drunk in. Really, just don’t do it, it will never end well in a city of canals and a ridiculous maze of streets. Budapest was lovely, I even survived the appalling fourty degree heat of August. And Bestival, well, that was weird - I’ve never been so acutely aware of my own place in the class system, but other than that it was fun, if not what I expected.

The School Year: Dominated mostly by a preoccupation with getting into Oxford. Thankfully I succeeded. And now I feel like I’m just waiting it out – a hiccup between the end of UCAS and the start of university, perhaps?

My New Year’s Resolutions: Well 2011 was an odd year of fulfilling my Resolutions – I got an Oxford offer and I didn’t buy anything from Topman. This year? Get the grades and actually go to Oxford, and get more motivated to work in college.

This has been repetitive. Roll on 2012.

Dec 31, 20118 notes
#2011 #2012 #Personal
“Why are we worn out? Why do we, who start out so passionate, brave, noble, believing, become totally bankrupt by the age of thirty or thirty-five? Why is it that one is extinguished by consumption, another puts a bullet in his head, a third seeks oblivion in vodka, cards, a fourth, in order to stifle fear and anguish, cynically tramples underfoot the portrait of his pure, beautiful youth? Why is it that, once fallen, we do not try to rise, and, having lost one thing, we do not seek another? Why?” —Anton Chekhov, Russian writer and playwright (via whyexistence)
Dec 30, 2011145 notes
#Chekhov #Quote
Play
Dec 28, 201114 notes
#me
Redemption Song Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros

british-tea-power:

Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros - Redemption Song

This being the 22nd of December, there can be no other song more fitting. Goodbye Joe. Nine years gone, and you’re still a-touching from beyond the grave.

Dec 22, 201135 notes
“The only position that leaves me with no cognitive dissonance is atheism. It is not a creed. Death is certain, replacing both the siren-song of Paradise and the dread of Hell. Life on this earth, with all its mystery and beauty and pain, is then to be lived far more intensely: we stumble and get up, we are sad, confident, insecure, feel loneliness and joy and love. There is nothing more; but I want nothing more.” —Christopher Hitchens. RIP.
Dec 16, 201121 notes
#Christopher Hitchens #Religion
Offer from Wadham College, Oxford University!

Dear Mr. Elliot,

I am pleased, on behalf of Wadham College, to offer you a place for admission in October 2012 to read History.

Not as pleased as I am though.

Dec 16, 201134 notes
#UCAS #University #FUCKING FUCKS I DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING! #Personal
Will you do your Wadham diaries for the other days?

Effort, but I suppose I may try and get them into something readable on Wednesday when I’ll have some time. xx

Dec 12, 20111 note
An Apology/David Cameron Wets Himself At Eurozone

It seems like all I do on this blog is apologise these days; first it was UCAS forms, then Oxford tests, then Oxford interviews, and now it’s just Oxford waiting. I just can’t bring myself to write anything under this kind of stress - I didn’t realise how out of touch I was until I returned from Oxford and discovered that David Cameron had been sat in a Eurozone conference holding a piss in for a good nine hours; and that surprisingly it hadn’t made him sharper.

Presumably what happened was Sarkozy agreed to the treaty; “David, we just need a ‘oui’ from you and we can move on” and then David Cameron suddenly went mad and shouted “NO, NO I DO NOT NEED A WEE”. What an utter fool. Someone on my Facebook said he has balls. That may be, but a. clearly they were full of piss, and b. clearly he was thinking with them.

In other news, letters for Oxford start being sent out on Thursday and fuck me am I scared. I drank the last of the gin today, and there are two shots of vodka in a bottle in my room, but I doubt they’ll last the week. And I’m overdrawn. Fucking fucks.

P.S. Hah! That got your attention; I might write misleading headlines more often.

Dec 12, 201110 notes
#Politics #David Cameron's Bladder #Will use that tag more often
“

In my head, the idea for the first episode, The National Anthem, was a cross between when Gordon Brown had to go and apologise to Gillian Duffy and I’m A Celebrity, in an odd way. That was effectively the starting point. With Gordon Brown we saw it was like “Go and say sorry, you fucker, because we caught you out.” Essentially, it was like a prank had been played and he now had to go and apologise for speaking his mind in private. An odd spectacle.

Something else that was in my head, kinda, was the year of the London Mayoral Elections and Brian Paddick was up as the Lib Dem candidate. One month he’s on Newsnight alongside Boris Johnson and Ken Livingston. He doesn’t win and then, a few months later, he’s in the jungle, standing alongside Timmy Mallet, trying to drink a pint of liquidised kangaroo penis.

Then, earlier this year, he was back on the news, commenting on the phone hacking thing. You kind of forget that happened, you sort of erase it from your memory. I remember when George Galloway got down on all fours and pretended to be a cat. I thought “This has ruined him” and it kind of didn’t. I remember listening to his radio show and he was using Top Cat as a piece of jingle music so he was sort of revelling in it. It’s impossible to really shame yourself in modern society, I guess.

”
—Charlie Brooker (via live-for-last-years-capers)
Dec 11, 201126 notes
#charlie brooker #Black mirror #politics #television
Here we fucking go!

In just over twelve hours I’ll be sat on what I suspect will be rather a packed commuter train from Paddington to Oxford. I say sat, I suppose there’s every possibility I shan’t be sat down, and that due to overcrowding, or ‘chronic underinvestment and blatant profiteering as a result of Tory privatision’ as I prefer to call it, there will be close to a million people on my train - all with their faces pressed into each others armpits.

It’s been dawning on me for a while what’s going to happen, but I woke up this morning for it to slap me in the face. My room looks like a bombsite, I’ve been digging for books, sheets, folders as well as clothes and that travel sized tube of toothpaste that I haven’t seen since returning from Budapest. I’d be lying if I said my main concern wasn’t my inability to say anything worth hearing about history under acute stress, but my secondary concern is definitely how to prevent my shirts getting creased on the way to Oxford. I also could do with avoiding having a nosebleed in the interview, I’ve just stemmed the third one in as many days.

So this is me signing off for a few days. To everyone else travelling to Oxford tomorrow for interviews: Good luck, you’ll all do fine, I’m sure.

xxxx

Dec 6, 201121 notes
#UCAS #University #SHIT AND FUCK THIS IS HAPPENING #Personal
Stress

This form has been stolen from the various bloggers on here who all have Oxford interviews starting Wednesday. Apologies for not posting much - you know how it goes. Interviews to prepare for and all that.

  1. I’m stressed, obviously. Which has been true since weeks ago, but now the interview’s rushing up, it’s suddenly dawned on me that this might matter.
  2. I don’t actually have a ticket to get home from Oxford - maybe they’ll just let me stay forever.
  3. I’m sure I haven’t read enough, but I’m also sure I’d still feel like that this time next year.
  4. 50 or so people liked my status announcing I had an interview here - no pressure!
  5. I don’t have a suit, but fuck that; if Oxford rejects me ‘cos I’m not suited up, then it’s not the institution I think it is.
  6. All that said, I’m looking forward to it.
Dec 5, 20119 notes
#UCAS #Fuck me #Personal
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