The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

Finals are here again. Don't you love how the air changes once lectures are over? You can feel the relief for the first day or so, then it changes and you can smell the fear, feel every caffeine-induced twitch, hear every muffled drag of feel across the floor of the flat or the library. It's wonderful.

As my time in Bristol winds down, it all winds down to exams. The history courses I'm taking here are much more different from Vassar in that the contact hours have been much fewer, one two-hour seminar a week per class, and one class that was even two-hours fortnightly (that's every two weeks for people who aren't familiar with the Queen's English), but that there has been much more reading. On average, I've read seven or eight books to prep for each seminar, and it's been great. Unfortunately, you don't get marks for participation here. It's weighed on one exam, and one essay. The essay counts for about 25% of the final mark and the exam counts for 75%. It's a pretty big deal. At Vassar, you rarely have a history course above the first year that will give an exam, but here, exams come standard, no matter what the level. As I write, I am currently procrastinating trying to learn how to revise, all over again, and, you guessed it, it's still wonderful.

So, with two weeks left in the Kingdom and two exams to go, I'm feeling pretty confident that I can somehow motivate myself to revise fairly soon, otherwise, I may feel the pain. The pain of what, you may ask. I, myself, do not even know, nor do I really want to find out, so I probably will get started soon. Or not.

Yesterday, I was supposed to do the exact same thing I planned on doing today: get up early, walk half an hour down into uni, get to the library, take out some books, find a comfy corner and pump out some good notes. That didn't quite happen, as yesterday, my mind was preoccupied with the results of the Vassar rowing team captaincy, which I ran for an was voted captain along with Nick Perry, a teammate who also studied abroad, but last semester and in Ireland. It's gonna be a great year. (My apologies for talking about nothing other than rowing in these posts. It's what I do. My deepest apologies. *Sadface*)

I feel like there was something else really cool I had to talk about. Oh yeah, about yesterday. So the preoccupation was a factor in sending me to the gym and working out far too hard, leaving me absolutely cream-cracker knackered (tired) and therefore unable to revise (or so I tried to convince myself). So, instead of getting books from the library, I decided to get lunch at this place called HK Diner on Park St, which is one of Bristol's main drags for shopping and eating. I got myself a bowl of beef brisket soup, and was thus satisfied. Until I realized I needed a jolt, so off to the coffee shop I went, both for Wi-Fi to see if captains had been announced and to get my fix. Sadly, the shop we went to had no free Wi-Fi, so I sat and pined. By pine I mean study Chinese. But the preoccupation hit me like a scared cow, and I couldn't study anymore. I suggested to my friends that we go watch Star Trek, since the cinema was only around the way in Broadmead, so we did. It was a great life decision. I'm not a huge trekkie, but I've seen enough and know enough about it to appreciate the story. And I'd gladly see it again, and wouldn't mind an entertaining distraction right now. Not that this isn't satisfying or anything, but who would take a blog over flashing lights and explosions? Am I right or am I right?

And with that, I am off to prepare for another British cultural lesson in the form of the Eurovision Song Contest. Apparently, the Brits haven't taken it seriously, and so they've been trounced the last few years. Now, apparently, they're ready to win, with a song and composed by Mr. Andrew Lloyd Webber of West End fame. We shall see if it's up to scratch, shan't we? Til the next time procrastination comes knocking at my door, peace to the outside area (if you didn't catch that, peace out).