philosophy supernatural nude

I feel much better. The exams on Saturday were, really, a lot, lot better than I was expecting; I mean, I was my usual jittery wreck beforehand, and had had no proper deep sleep but rather a half-lucid dream about one specific statutory instrument (the Company Names (Sensitive Words and Expressions) Regulations 2009, yes, I am concerned for myself, too) and then I went up the hill at half eight (again, on a Saturday) expecting the exam to be awful. But, on the whole, it wasn't that bad; it was a kind paper in a lot of ways, not asking about a lot of things, like, say, personal insolvency, administration and administrative receivership, debt financing, all topics I am not hot on, and it did ask about corporate insolvency, share issue, tax, things that don't actually make me cry. The only real problem I had was time - my last answer was basically "set aside transaction! intent to prefer! no presumption! bad idea!" - and in comparing notes afterwards I realise I made a few silly mistakes about redeemable shares, but on the whole... I hope it went okay. And the afternoon exam had a gift of a tax question, and the rest wasn't too bad. So.

Afterwards I went home through the most perfect day, chilly, bright, full of sun, and felt a little warm walking back in my big coat, and thought strange unaccountable thoughts that maybe someday maybe the spring will come. And then I took the evening train into London, with a rose-coloured sunset going on obligingly all the way there, and went to stay with jacinthsong. Which was very nice, and very restful; last night we drank a lot of gin and watched Little Mosque on the Prairie - which, by the way, I love so much with a love that it is epic. I really do. I like what they're doing politically - a sitcom about Muslim people in a small mostly white town on the Canadian praries! How topical, how knowing, how unexpectedly funny, sweet and kind! But I also like what they're doing for the simpler reason that sometimes they're talking about things Muslims do, but more often they're talking about things brown people do in general. It's a show about funny brown people being authentically funny and brown, and it fills my little heart with love.

And then today we ate a lot of pancakes and watched Up, the newest Pixar creation, which I was utterly charmed by. ( probably I should cut for spoilers )

I have returned to Oxford's loving embrace, and I have one more week of revision, two more exams, and then actual blessed time off with no work, no studying, no revision, no job-hunting and no applications! Accordingly and therefore, Shim and I have arranged a holiday. I initially wanted to fly somewhere warm, but for budget and time, there wasn't anywhere really attractive; I would like to go to interesting warm places like Morocco or Israel, or indeed Turkey and Syria (which, circumstances allowing, I should get a chance to see with teh_elb and proskynesis in the autumn), but nowhere we could do easily and cheaply in the time available. We decided then that we were going to go Ireland. This wasn't really working out. Then we decided, maybe we should go to Iona, the Hebridean island I was named for - but the only way to get there is via Mull, where the public transport links are rubbish. (And I haven't driven in a while and don't want my sudden reintroduction to it to be driving through the Highlands.).

Cue an impulse decision. We're going to Shetland. It will take us four days in transit, about - Oxford to Liverpoool, to Edinburgh, to Aberdeen, to Lerwick - and once we get there, we've rented a cottage for a few days, because bizarrely this was a cheaper option than a B 'n' B. (Well, to be strictly accurate, it's a former navigational signalling station.) Three days in a cottage, probably with drink, buffeted by winds from the north Atlantic, with seals, puffins and otters in the vicinity, further north than Anchorage, Alaska. I really can't wait, and it's all something to do with this feeling of change, like the air is charged with something new; like, my exams are going to be over soon, and then my course, and with the spring and the summer come a new life. I was walking alongside the Thames today with jacinthsong, watching the sun set over the water, thinking about winter and wondering how it ends.

...but. Tomorrow morning I have to do something strange and tomorrow evening I have to do something violent, and in the meantime I have to sit down, take a deep breath and go back to work after the weekend, make a revision timetable, manage my time efficiently, start making effective notes, the usual. I'm watching this space.

Also, the next time I get a chance, I'm going to buy this.

I have horrible lurgy and my exams results are still AWOL. However, my day improved from the moment I actually got out of bed and went into town and had a brief holiday of an evening, in the way that such things do happen without warning. The sun came out today, for one thing, in a minimal, muted blue way, and shimgray and I were wandering around Jericho, pausing for coffee and books (and plotting a screwball comedy novel I could write while we also bought food and many boxes of pink tea). Jericho looks very lovely in that sort of light, and the bookshops were worthy of visiting. The £2 bookshop, which glories in the name of The Last Bookshop, was still open at six o'clock and thronged with people, all who had come in out of the cold with the aura of those who had come across the promised land. The proprietor was a behatted bemused American, who sold us four books and found us unexpectedly interesting. ("Are you together? Good, you have chemistry!") This was followed by another bookshop, apparently so new it still had the smell of paint inside, and this one rejoiced in the name of Albion Beatnik. I am a sucker for anything with "beatnik" in the title. We went inside. There were more books. There was another amused proprietor, this one surrounded by bits of paper. I have said this before, but the art of the independent bookshop is a noble and subtle one. It was good.

(Speaking of books, I signed up for LibraryThing in 2005 and didn't use it very much. Just this week I catalogued all the books I have in Oxford, which I had in my head as about thirty or forty, not very many. Apparently "not very many" is a hundred and sixty-something. Oh dear. I find this a little horrifying.)

It has been a nice week, generally speaking. hathy_col was here over the weekend, which is worth noting as we have not been in the same place at the same time for faaaaar too long (over Christmas, I went from Liverpool to Edinburgh the same day as she made the same journey in reverse) and she was here long enough for us to at least try to catch up, which mostly involved us being Very Happy about the new Star Trek film (we are both decided that unless the new guy talks! like! this! a! la! William! Shatner! the franchise is doomed) and deciding at one point that there is a necessary connection between people called Vladimir and the scuppering of Britain's chances in the Eurovision Song Contest. (Well, if it weren't for Lenin, there wouldn't be an Eastern bloc; when they show the contest on television in Ukraine, it's on split-screen with Putin holding a sign saying "Vote For Us" in one hand with his other hand poised over a reeeeeeally big gas tap; we're still working on Vlad the Impaler.) We stayed up, we giggled, we slept in, giggled some more, and eventually bought me a birthday cake whilst discussing which films we would show Plato if we brought him forwards in time. (Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure; Mamma Mia.)

In the evening, people came to the pub and were great in my general vicinity, and gave me many many many books, and we finished up in G&Ds and ate ice-cream and people continued to be generally great. They gave me books and fairy lights and more books. It made me very happy.

Now, I am reading fic (Without Song, Merlin, by foreverdirt, very very lovely) and intermittently watching Little Mosque on the Prairie, a Canadian sitcom emily_shore pointed out, which is a silly slight comedy about a small immigrant community in a small Canadian town, and is lovely and charming. (And makes me laugh in how right it gets the immigrant tropes.) I guess today and the last couple of days have been a holiday, and I'm going home for a few days this week, which are also a holiday, and after that I am hideously, heinously busy until, well, I'd like to say April but should probably say June. At any rate, I don't seem to have any free weekends until Easter. Which is not bad - I like doing things - but may mean I am somewhat quiet for a bit. We shall see.

Thanks again, guys, for making it a lovely birthday. It was much appreciated.

edited to add It's Republic Day! I entirely forgot. A very happy Republic Day to all.