Written 2 April, 20007
It’s cold here in Oxford.
And wet. Always raining.
And the dons are snooty. On the first day of class one of them made a disparaging remark about my blue hair.
So I made a disparaging remark about the size of his unit.
After class he tried to show me I was wrong about that, and now he’s before the disciplinary committee for inappropriate sexual approaches to a student.
And not only that, I made sure his wife knew all about it.
And not only that, but I Googled him and looked up some of his published papers and I’ve rebutted his article on trickle-down economics. My paper is under peer review now, but one of the reviewers was so excited she broke confidentially and e-mailed me to congratulate me on finally and forever revealing trickle-down economics as the sham it is.
Trickle down, my blue-haired butt!
No, my butt isn’t blue-haired. I’m a natural blonde.
Other than that little episode, things have been slow here. I’m in a dorm room with a chippy little thing called Brigit, who is always on about her daddy’s dukedom. She was prattling on about commoners one day but I gave her such a mean look she shut TF up. We’re sort of not speaking right now.
Oh, God, I miss Pele and the warm sun and the golden sands! And I miss the Pele crew, Cheyenne and Sweetie and Breath of G8d and Axel the trivia boy and all the visitors, too, and I miss my Camry.
Read on, and I’ll tell you how I came to be here.