Normality Recommence (Cara)

So, I remembered occasionally over the course of the glorious and lengthy mid-year break that I have a blog, and considered posting an entry. But really, darling readers, I didn’t think that my tales of debauch and revelry had quite enough to do with The First-Year Experience to merit an entry, so you’ll just have to seek me out in the flesh for a personal recap.

Now, though, Semester Two is blaring insistently to be blogged about, and I can only allow it to do so.

I’ve actually been back in college for nearly a week, for the rehearsals of the upcoming play, which will be of … questionable brilliance but certain hilarity. You should all come, folks! Here’s a link: http://www.facebook.com/?sk=events#!/event.php?eid=138718226151405

Regardless, semester only properly started with the re-arrival of everyone on Sunday, and traditions and friendships all suddenly fired back into life, which was pleasant. I’m back in a world where it is naive to be astonished by formal dinners lasting four hours, where everyone has more costumes left over in their wardrobes than they know what to do with, and where tea parties erupt without warning in corridors.

I got back into the spirit of uni itself by skipping my first Psych lecture in favour of a hearty sleep-in, but did grace my Lit tute with my humble presence. It felt like being brand-new all over again, fretting about finding the classroom, dressing to give the right impression, smiling enough to be friendly but not enough to come across as ‘that creepy grinning girl’. It seemed a success, though;  any group containing a North London jazz singer, a Mexican guy with an unpronounceable name, and a handful of Sylvia Plath enthusiasts has got to be a good one.

So here we go again, kids. Be good. And for God’s sakes, try not to get any classes in John Medley.