Oxford: Or, How It Came to Be That I Would Run Away to Scotland

Bailey was upset.
Everyone compared his mustache to Hitler.

This weekend, quite a few people gathered in the flat to watch "The Two Towers" and "The Return of the King." Because I had to lead discussion on "The Return of the King," it was more than just for fun. I also decided I wanted to write on the films, instead of the books.

We also had white chocolate blueberry toast one last time.

I am the Lorax, Or the walrus.

At this point, my father presented me with an offer: He would move my ticket so I could go to Scotland like I wanted to in the first place.

On Sunday, we had a Dapper Party because when my roommates went to Poundland (think Dollar General), they found mustaches. And decided we would wear them and have dessert together. Kind of as one last party before we all began to prepare to leave. So I made chocolate-covered strawberries.

Somehow, a conversation between Taylor and Maddy led to us deciding to make the event black tie. With the apartment decked out in English and UK flags and our mustaches on, we began to celebrate our time in Oxford. We had quite a bit of fun ... even if some of us ditched the mustaches early. And even if some of us (I know it was your idea, Taylor. Thanks everyone else who went along with it, it was awesomely awkward) felt the need to play jokes on other people.

Taylor, once again creeping in every picture possible.

Melissa and Taylor know how to party.

The next day, I gave my presentation, and I think it went well. I didn't get booed or anything, so I'm taking that as a win. Somehow, Josh and I ended up exploring a different part of town (one I don't really know how to get to ... I use him as my watch and GPS; you may have figured that out by now). We ate dinner at a cheap pub, and I got southern fried chicken out of curiosity of what it would look like. Somehow, I was convinced again to watch another German film. This one was called "The Blue Angel" and was just as awful as the last one. 

This was also notable because I revealed that I know film criticism. Specifically, Mulvey's essay on the gaze. I later got Josh to admit that my knowledge impressed him. No matter what he tells you. He said it.

On Tuesday and today, I had my final tutorials with Dr. Ballam. They both went well, and I received two first classes on my final essays. (Not to brag, but I was excited about that.) That was a big relief, especially because I still have two papers to complete for Dr. Snyder before I finish with the Tolkien class.

I think I killed our final moment of the Tolkien class. Somehow, when we were discussing whether Tolkien was the author of the century or not (I argued he was), a door opened to quote Oscar Wilde. Dr. Snyder's reaction?

Dr. Snyder: Are we really ending our Tolkien class with Oscar Wilde.
Me: Well, it looks like it.

Oscar Wilde. What a dandy. But he is Victorian...

So we did. Well, tomorrow we have the tour of Magdalen College (which is associated with both C.S. Lewis and Wilde), so it's not like I was totally off base.

In the midst of finishing up with my classes, I was busy getting my ticket changed to later in July so I could travel to Scotland. After some unnecessary drama with the airline, it all worked out. And, well, I learned a valuable life lesson.

For the record, Josh was planning to go to Scotland already. Seeing as I hadn't annoyed him on any of our previous trips (minus asking him what time it is or quoting Wilde ... that's another story), I decided to ask if I could go with him. And by "ask" I mean, I told him (semi-jokingly) I was following him to Scotland. And he said ok. So I took that as resounding excitement for the possibility of my presence. His indifference can't fool me.

As for the valuable life lesson: Don't call your mother and say, "Mom, I'm running away with a boy to Scotland. See you in a few weeks. Bye." This ends in a lot of freak outs, conversations about safety, and an interrogation of said boy's life story.

That being said, I didn't really learn anything because I kept doing it to everyone I talked to. Including people on the trip who didn't know we were going together. But seeing as Josh's family lore claims there is a mythical McPhail Manor somewhere, it's not like I was exaggerating when I told everyone a Scottish Laird told me he had an ancestral manor and promised me adventure.

Right. I'm sure my maturity inspires all of you.