nose to the grindstone

By the Cambridge calendar, which starts and ends on Thursdays, I'm still in week one, meaning that the weekend is a fake break in the early part of the school week that only pretends to be a time of peace and relaxation, when instead it is full of guilt regarding the pile of books sitting on my desk that I need to be reading. It's Sunday, and it's time to put my nose back into them.

Here's some useless knowledge for you - the origin of "nose to the grindstone" comes from the practice of knife grinders who would bend over their sharpening stone, keeping their faces near the action in order to keep the blades close to the stone. I wonder how many lost nose hairs (or noses) in that practice . . .

I'm working on Samuel Richardson's Pamela right now, which is 500 page novel from a million years ago made up of letters from a servant girl to her parents. I think it's supposed to be a romance and have a happy ending, but all I've suffered through so far (in 250 pages) is many acts of attempted rape by the man that apparently loves Pamela. What . . . ? Yeah, I don't get it either.

Other than the books, I've been busy with rowing (today is the first day off in a week!) and watching the first two seasons of Weeds. As for rowing - I'm pretty sure I'm still one of the weakest members on the team, but I did better on my 2k than I thought I would, so I'm happy with that. I also had badminton yesterday, and I was quite rusty. It's the worst when you get the shots you think you would miss, and then you miss the birdy when it lands basically at your feet. Shameful, really. As for Weeds - you should watch this show - its HIGHalious. (that's a pun - I love puns - you get it? because the show is about selling drugs? haha - you're amused, I know it). But it isn't afraid to show anything and everything on TV, so perhaps don't watch it when you are babysitting and the like.

I had my first outing back on the river on Friday morning, and it wasn't terribly cold out - especially considering it's January (in fact, the grass is still green here, and flowers are still alive - its very strange to see) - but it started raining the moment we got the boats out, and didn't quit until the afternoon. Rowing in the rain isn't so bad, you're preoccupied by the exercise and all, but cycling back in the rain? Miserable. Poor Cat rode back with me, and had a bike collision with another woman, and landed in the mud. In her words - "this couldn't get more miserable, Kathleen!". Needless to say, I decided the lectures on Spenser weren't worth another 20 minutes in the rain, and retired to read modernist theory in sweatpants with numerous cups of tea and biscuits. I think that's the only way English survive their weather - warm caffeine and chocolate. Or they are sneaking drugs behind my back. Either or.

And in even better news than tea and chocolate - I had Jewell visitors this weekend! Rachel (a Zeta) and Andy are studying at Harlaxton this semester, which is about 2 hours away by train. Rachel came in on a school day trip, so I got to show her around and catch up on some gossip from home, and Andy stayed the whole weekend and filled us all in on his Wheel of Fortune training - he's flying home to be on the show next week. Crazy, right? Did you know I applied for some game shows to finance this year abroad? No call backs. I'm assuming they were to terrified of my intellect to challenge me. That must be it.

Mucho love. Mucho misses.