The usual university packing advice includes things like battery chargers and paperwork. This is relatively unimportant, as you will find yourself able to cope without whatever the charger would have charged, and without being able to prove that you're either alive or literate, and possibly even both, with a little practice. More important are a number of things that should never be forgotten, or will require an emergency parental visit.
A stunningly beautiful cocktail dress. Preferably a few of these, but of course a really wonderful LBD is essential. Similarly, a spectacular evening dress or two will be used more than you could ever expect (partly because inventing excuses to wear them becomes a hobby), and there are major bonus points for corsetry.
Anything with geek credentials. Bascially, if you bought it on ThinkGeek, it will triple in value in Cambridge. If you, like me, own molecular jewellery, the day you move is a perfect day to wear it, and for the very first time have multiple people identify the molecule strung around your neck.
The junk that lines your walls at home. And, for that matter, the floor, the cupboards, the bed and the windowsills. You will fill boxes with this stuff, never have any practical purpose for it, and spend hours arranging it all neatly on your shelves. But it will be worth it.
Any film with Johnny Depp or Hugh Grant in it. I would be the last to admit that I watch this trash. However, despite a computer filled with high-brow art flicks and meaningful classics, it's always the rubbishy rom-coms that get watched.
Sad as it is to admit, I'm such a girl at heart.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
End of Lent 2009
Wow, so apparently somewhere along the way we survived our second term in Cambridge. Term finished on Thursday the 12th of March, but we all had exams on the 13th and then there was end of term larking-about to be done, so this update got put off somewhat. However, we have learnt stuff this term, so here goes...
What have we learnt this term?
That there are few problems in our lives that can't be summarised and entirely explained by throwing our hands in the air and exclaiming "Men!"
That you get odd looks if you sit in the same coffee shop three days in a row and throw your hands in the air and exclaim "Men!" each time.
That sometimes, someone will look so, so ill that even the anatomy demonstrators will send them home from sessions they must attend.
That you can form an accurate judgement of someone's character depending on which of Felicity's mugs they choose to drink their tea from.
That it is actually possible to pack up your whole room in slightly over two hours, with a hangover.
That burlesque nights are the best thing ever.
That no man will ignore you when you are wearing a corset.
That no matter how much you believe your current situation is unique, someone knows a song about it.
That there is no reason why you shouldn't walk halfway through Newnham carrying a roast joint.
That there are some situations in which medicine is actually interesting and a valid addition to the conversation, but you should probably let the non-medics in the group decide that.
That the four of us (Felicity, Joanne, Geraldine and Julia) are terrifying en masse (see "Blind Date" for details).
That Felicity can continue to play the piano and make musical phrases after she has lost the ability to make conversation.
That no one in love ever listens to sense.
That there is nothing better than returning to College to find something odd in your pigeonhole (this term has witnessed a raven, a giraffe, and three hippos being found in our pigeonholes at various points).
That you need to be very careful when *headdesk*ing during dissection, as there's often a dead body in the way.
That it is actually possible to completely forget you're dissecting a whole body, and so be freaked out by finding a hand attached to an arm when you move parts of the body bag aside.
That you get remarkably few comments on the facebook status "Joanne held a warm human heart today".
That love is not enough.
That there is a lot to be said for turning up to Compline after a formal with a group of people (slightly intoxicated to drunk) as large as the rest of the congregation put together.
That Cambridge can become home in under two terms.
That you don't necessarily lose your toes to frostbite as a result of walking around Cambridge in bare feet at three in the morning in February.
That there is virtually always someone willing to walk you home, if you ask nicely enough.
That Felicity is about as perceptive as the average doorpost when it comes to men.
That Felicity broadcasts her emotions so obviously that even a below-average doorpost can tell who she's interested in.
That it's not a Caius bop unless someone takes a trip to Addenbrooke's A&E department.
That the spikes on top of railings create a wound that looks like a stab wound.
That there is no situation so bad that the application of tea, coffee, hot chocolate, crumpets, hot cross buns, toast, ice cream, hugs, a film or some combination of the above will not fix it.
That cake > men. Without exception. It's just the hormones talking when you disagree.
That there are too few exceptions to the rule "all men are bastards some of the time".
That girls can be rubbish, too.
That, when it gets really bad, one of the great things about Newnham is that you can eat chocolate and cry and everyone will look after you.
That Cambridge is home.
That the arrival of spring makes everything a whole lot better.
That being taken out for coffee, or lunch, or dinner, or in fact anywhere out, does wonders for your self-esteem.
This...got a little more depressing than I was intending. I'll try to remember some cheerful stuff!
Love,
Felicity xxx
What have we learnt this term?
That there are few problems in our lives that can't be summarised and entirely explained by throwing our hands in the air and exclaiming "Men!"
That you get odd looks if you sit in the same coffee shop three days in a row and throw your hands in the air and exclaim "Men!" each time.
That sometimes, someone will look so, so ill that even the anatomy demonstrators will send them home from sessions they must attend.
That you can form an accurate judgement of someone's character depending on which of Felicity's mugs they choose to drink their tea from.
That it is actually possible to pack up your whole room in slightly over two hours, with a hangover.
That burlesque nights are the best thing ever.
That no man will ignore you when you are wearing a corset.
That no matter how much you believe your current situation is unique, someone knows a song about it.
That there is no reason why you shouldn't walk halfway through Newnham carrying a roast joint.
That there are some situations in which medicine is actually interesting and a valid addition to the conversation, but you should probably let the non-medics in the group decide that.
That the four of us (Felicity, Joanne, Geraldine and Julia) are terrifying en masse (see "Blind Date" for details).
That Felicity can continue to play the piano and make musical phrases after she has lost the ability to make conversation.
That no one in love ever listens to sense.
That there is nothing better than returning to College to find something odd in your pigeonhole (this term has witnessed a raven, a giraffe, and three hippos being found in our pigeonholes at various points).
That you need to be very careful when *headdesk*ing during dissection, as there's often a dead body in the way.
That it is actually possible to completely forget you're dissecting a whole body, and so be freaked out by finding a hand attached to an arm when you move parts of the body bag aside.
That you get remarkably few comments on the facebook status "Joanne held a warm human heart today".
That love is not enough.
That there is a lot to be said for turning up to Compline after a formal with a group of people (slightly intoxicated to drunk) as large as the rest of the congregation put together.
That Cambridge can become home in under two terms.
That you don't necessarily lose your toes to frostbite as a result of walking around Cambridge in bare feet at three in the morning in February.
That there is virtually always someone willing to walk you home, if you ask nicely enough.
That Felicity is about as perceptive as the average doorpost when it comes to men.
That Felicity broadcasts her emotions so obviously that even a below-average doorpost can tell who she's interested in.
That it's not a Caius bop unless someone takes a trip to Addenbrooke's A&E department.
That the spikes on top of railings create a wound that looks like a stab wound.
That there is no situation so bad that the application of tea, coffee, hot chocolate, crumpets, hot cross buns, toast, ice cream, hugs, a film or some combination of the above will not fix it.
That cake > men. Without exception. It's just the hormones talking when you disagree.
That there are too few exceptions to the rule "all men are bastards some of the time".
That girls can be rubbish, too.
That, when it gets really bad, one of the great things about Newnham is that you can eat chocolate and cry and everyone will look after you.
That Cambridge is home.
That the arrival of spring makes everything a whole lot better.
That being taken out for coffee, or lunch, or dinner, or in fact anywhere out, does wonders for your self-esteem.
This...got a little more depressing than I was intending. I'll try to remember some cheerful stuff!
Love,
Felicity xxx
Sunday, March 8, 2009
So that's what it's called!
Intergluteal cleft: bumcrack.
So, really, it should be "everyone else appears to be cutting lateral to the intergluteal cleft."
How wonderful does that sound?
Lots of love,
Felicity xxx
Geraldine xxx
So, really, it should be "everyone else appears to be cutting lateral to the intergluteal cleft."
How wonderful does that sound?
Lots of love,
Felicity xxx
Geraldine xxx
Friday, March 6, 2009
Stash!
For the uninitiated, "stash" is basically wearable items (often hoodies) with your college crest, boaty nickname, rugby team, society, position of power, name, or similar "I-am-a-member-of-such-and-such-a-group" tag on it. You have, no doubt, encountered the "leavers' hoodie" from school sixth forms? Well, Cambridge does that, too, except bigger, better, and not so much when you leave as when you join. As you might have gathered from the above, pretty much any large group of people will have "stash" - this year, the first-year Caius medics have these blindingly white hoodies (white and hoodies should not be combined, for future reference) with their initials on the sleeves. The Cambridge Union's stewards and Directors got their stash recently. Newnham stash ranged from hoodies to rugby shirts to t-shirts to bags to knickers (you wish I were kidding). IT HAS ARRIVED.
Do you want to know why I have bothered to post this? I have bothered to post this because of a conversation I had yesterday related to my Newnham stash, in particular. I have a t-shirt. It has Newnham's crest on it, in the obvious place.
"Newnham owns my left breast right now, and I'm happy with that!"
"Who owns your right breast?"
"I do! It's my breast!"
This becomes more amusing when you consider I had this conversation walking along a road at lunchtime with lots of people I do not know around me. It becomes weird when I tell you I had taken no mind-altering chemicals that day.
Love,
Felicity xxx
Do you want to know why I have bothered to post this? I have bothered to post this because of a conversation I had yesterday related to my Newnham stash, in particular. I have a t-shirt. It has Newnham's crest on it, in the obvious place.
"Newnham owns my left breast right now, and I'm happy with that!"
"Who owns your right breast?"
"I do! It's my breast!"
This becomes more amusing when you consider I had this conversation walking along a road at lunchtime with lots of people I do not know around me. It becomes weird when I tell you I had taken no mind-altering chemicals that day.
Love,
Felicity xxx
Sunday, March 1, 2009
RAG
This week is RAG week, which means a greater than average number of crazy things are being done for charity (yesterday, for example, saw hundreds of plastic ducks floating down the river). To start the week off, the RAG Get Spotted event aimed to get as many people as possible doing as many odd things as possible to raise money and awareness for RAG week, one of these crazy people being yours truly. Here are just a few of the bizarre things I've spent the past 9 days doing, instead of medicine:
Collecting business cards from passers-by
Walking around Newnham library with a sign saying 'BANG'
Making a giant blue smartie (note to self: Dairy milk + icing = creme egg)
Taking photos of many, many random people in the street and in various locations all around Cambridge
This doesn't even include the quite frankly insane things my partner did in order to gain points. But then, what is life in Cam without insanity? (Answers on a postcard please...) Seeing as this is coming from someone who was seen walking through town last week accompanied by someone painted green, this has made little difference to my everyday life, with the exception of further limiting the percentage of time spent actually doing medicine- it's all good.
Here's hoping next week will be slightly more productive (in the traditional sense, at least)
Geraldine xxx
Collecting business cards from passers-by
Walking around Newnham library with a sign saying 'BANG'
Making a giant blue smartie (note to self: Dairy milk + icing = creme egg)
Taking photos of many, many random people in the street and in various locations all around Cambridge
This doesn't even include the quite frankly insane things my partner did in order to gain points. But then, what is life in Cam without insanity? (Answers on a postcard please...) Seeing as this is coming from someone who was seen walking through town last week accompanied by someone painted green, this has made little difference to my everyday life, with the exception of further limiting the percentage of time spent actually doing medicine- it's all good.
Here's hoping next week will be slightly more productive (in the traditional sense, at least)
Geraldine xxx
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