Wednesday, April 4, 2007

The Boyfriend I: Oxford


Bodlean Library

Written 2 April, 20007

The Boyfriend

I: Oxford

Dakota speaking.

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.


Mordecai Scaggs said...

Sister dear, this is where I piss you off by being pedantic. I used to live in Oxford, you see, in fact the first 20 years of my life were spent near it or in it.
The first photo looks like the junction of St Aldates Street and The High - right on The Cross, in fact. The second photo I am not sure, probably one of the less publicly-accessible colleges, but it surely is NOT the BODLEAN Library. Sorry hon, that is a remarkable round building off of Broad Street. It is also just off The High, between the two in fact, so I had a goooood look at the first picture in case you could catch a glimpse of it towards the top left, but you can't.
Dakota sent these to you did she? Are you sure she actually made it Oxford? And is the MA certificate signed by Head Don Haugthonshaw-Farquarson? Best check that out, I think. And then tell her to next time pretend to go to Leicester De Montfort, I have no idea what that looks like! :)

Cheyenne Palisades said...

Well where to you think that minx really went, Mordecai? Clearly not to Oxford! Maybe she just hit out in the desert-- but that's definitely an Oxford diploma and assuredly Henry Kissinger's honoary doctorate from somewhere.

Thanks for pointing out Dakota's duplicity!