 |
 |
 |
||||||
 |
     Exam day. I got up early this morning, since last minute revision is always a good thing. If it can't be crammed into the brain in an hour's frantic staring at the page, then it isn't worth knowing, that's my motto. It's not a very good motto. The first exam was physical chemistry. This is my best subject. Oh dear. I could remember knowing how to do the questions, but I couldn't actually remember how to do them. To a certain extent this is comforting, since at least there is some knowledge in the back of my brain, quivering with fear and not wanting to come out. After lunch and a spot of last minute cramming in the library, we had our meeting with the tutors. This is the termly event where we all sit (or in my case sink into the one saggy chair in the room, which I always end up with) and get told when our tutorials and lectures are. Dr. Fairbanks, our organic chemistry tutor, did liven up the proceedings by recommending the Oxford Chemistry Primers - 'mainly written by old lecturers at the university'. This comment produced a few raised eyebrows, notably those of Dr. Brouard who has written a primer.... After extricating myself from the chair, I headed examwards again. This time it was inorganic chemistry. Dr. Greene had told us that it was 'quite straightforward, and it shouldn't take you too long'. Two and a half hours later, I left the room having had a fairly poor exam. I could have a stab at most questions, but I suspect I haven't gone into enough detail. Inorganic chemistry is mainly essay-type questions. I can't write essays. That's why I applied to do chemistry. Blunder. The advantage of having exams is that you have a damn good excuse to get merry once they're finished. Hence, we headed barwards after drinking some of the beer stack, just to line the stomach. The traditional entertainment on the first Friday night of the year is a spoof Blind Date type event. In my personal opinion Blind Date is one of the worst concepts of the latter twentieth century. I went and watched Shooting Stars in the JCR instead. I was rewarded by the sight of Melanie Sykes attempting to fit the monetary system of North America (represented by a credit card) into the arse crack of one of the Three Postmen of the Apocalypse. I suspect Reeves and Mortimer are care in the community cases. On returning to the bar, I very nearly elbowed and swore at a bloke in a leather jacket after he backed into me. Fortunately I restrained myself, since he turned out to be my organic chemistry tutor. This is one of the problems of having a young tutor - they sometimes crop up in unexpected places. After the bar shut, I headed towards the GCR with Andy Jackson and Chris Seward - two fourth year chemists. I was then treated to a slightly drunken conversation on religion, science (and, later on, computers) between Andy and Nick Sweeney. Nick seems to think deeply on subjects. He may be eating too much fish. One interesting 0th Week occurrence is that no second or third years manage to 'get off' with a fresher, but they do all seem to manage it with other second and third years. It's probably a hormone thing. Chris returned late, having been last seen with one Sarah Langford. Ribald comments followed. Such are the dangers of living in an all-bloke flat. |
 |
||||||
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
||
|
