No updates? Whatever do you mean?

Alright, well. Let us forget that there have been no updates for a few weeks. It is not as if I didn't TRY, well... maybe that is part of it. But in my defence I did try, twice in fact, to post a comprehensive summary or my events, but each time I was called away, once by phone, once by my scout - who cleans my room you see, I should have yelled: Not now Perkins, damnit man! - and each time I was 'timed out' in this window, and so it all disappeared into the ether.

Well then, here we are.

Some highlights of this week (remember that we are treating the weeks prior to this as having been ether-ised):

• First rugby match for Balliol. I was playing the the JCR team [The Junior Common Room, which consists of all the undergraduates and postgraduates, as distinct from the MCR, the Middle CR which is just the postgraduates. So the JCR team is mainly for the undergraduates (I refuse to say the new people or young'uns) but some graduates (again, not old people, perhaps veterans though?) are allowed to play] as there is no MCR team. We played the more valliant game, the higher, swifter, stronger game, but despite all of our Olympian ideals we were hammered 49-nil. I screamed onto the field from the bench in the second half, just the sort of Antipodean injection the team needed at that stage. But inspite of all excessive pace, darting runs and thunderous tackes, we still were defeated. It was all in good fun though. [I will follow this post with some pictures.]
• First stint with the Balliol Chapel Choir. 'Pon my word this was certainly one of those good times. There is an organ, built in around 1800, which overhangs the back of the congregation and when it plays the ground almost opens up. We sang the standard selection of hymns, but no one told me that it was customary for everyone to sing in unison with the tune for the first and last verse and to do it in parts in the middle verses. I'm there singing away thinking, "Gee, I'm really out of touch, I'm nowhere near the others." During the sermon I tuned out and tried to read the inscription on a plaque on the other side of the chapel. The writing was quite small and in Latin, so that proved an interesting diversion for a good twenty minutes. Every now and again I would be able to make out a word and think of the Engligh equivalent in the one hit. When such an epiphany happened I started to let out a sigh of understanding: 'Ahhh... so that's what that is..., or Ahh of course....' The bloke beside me thought I was really interested in the sermon and asked me afterwards to explain some of the more delicate points. Not wanting to disappoint him I said, 'Well it's all a complex issue. There is one school of thought which says... oh look is that the time, I best be going.'
• Playing a pub quiz game. Here they have little arcade machines on which you can win money. So you pop in 50p and you can play Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, or some other sort of trivia. And if you get enough questions right or become a level 27 Jedi Master you can collect up to £20. Enticing no? A few of us went out on Monday and initially invested £2 in the machine, then another £2. Then we won £10... but thought that the makers of this game have hungry children to feed, and who are we to deny them of their supper money? So we promptly reinvested... and suffice it to say that these kids will infact be eating a three course meal for dinner thanks to us. As we were leaving, someone grabbed me and said: 'You're Australian... quick, answer this question.' He pointed on the screen and I had 10 seconds to answer: T/F Perth is the capital of West Australia. I did a double take... West Australia? Surely not. No, couldn't possibly be. Unless there was some naming convention where we all just call it 'Western' Australia. No, no I thought [all in 8 seconds you see] it must be false. And in true English style, the correct answer was true. I couldn't believe it. The bloke who called me over was seeing daggers as I had lost him a pound with that answer. I tried to explain... all that came out [as I had been at the pub for a few hours] was 'Western, Western, WESTERRRNNN!'
• QUODs for this week:

1. Life is tough in Cambridge in the 3rd Year. In the 3rd year they have to learn things. FRI - Prof Charles Batty telling it like it is.
2. Do you think that Oxford has a degree of pretension about it. SAT - Ben, a mate of mine, asking a senior don this question at High Table. The don was not impressed.
3. No, not gay: camp, we don't say gay in the theatre. SUN - Amy the director of Ruddigore, the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta in which I'm involved. Someone asked whether he should camp the part up. And I asked what that meant, was it like making his character gay, which provoked the response.
4. Would you like me to do some vacuuming now sir? MON - My scout.
5. You're not much of a drinker then. Oh well, give it time. TUES - I went out to the pub with a few mates, and declined another drink as I had to leave in a minute or two. Fortunately the 3rd year DPhil student (who thought we was wise beyond all ways) said that I will learn... in time. Wanker.
6. Tim, come on stage and look like a man... well, close enough. WED - My ego takes a pounding at a rehearsal.
7. Well I won't lie to you lads, that could have gone better. TH - Captain of the Rugby team after the 49-nil loss.

Hopefully some pictures to follow,

Tim