Oh Monday morning you gave me no warning of what was to be!

I've kept my editing to a minimum, just fixing errors of spelling or word-choice, but throughout here please note the notes from the Corey of November 8, 2006 in Italics.

After a thoroughly depressing morning, I splurged on an "American inspired" sandwich from Sainsbury's. I know I'm supposed to be discovering exciting British culture, but I needed some comfort food. I snarfed it down and inhaled my bottle of Evian. I was still extremely peeved with the events of the morning so I wasted the intervening hour and a half on my computer before sturdily perking myself up and heading off to law.

One thing that I have discovered and that continues to bother me is that tutors don't like it if you're early. I am habitually early to classes. I try to stop myself from being more than ten minutes early, but I just like to get there and not worry about getting there. When you show up early, tutors just get confused and, after ascertaining that there isn't anything you particularly needed, turn you out. They actually ask you to leave. It boggles my mind. You have to leave for ten minutes, wander about and come back. I don't see what's so bloody difficult about letting me sit in the classroom in perfectly respectful silence from ten minutes. They're just confused and then annoyed. Why are they there early if we can't be?

Anyway, after waiting the ten minutes, Jillaine let us in and class commenced. The class meeting isn't as thrilling a mental exercise as the discussion group, but it cheered me up considerably. I love, adore and am madly infatuated with my law class. Isn't it funny how things turn out? I wanted to drop it before I even took it and stick with my history class and it turns out I love it and want to drop the history class. At least I'm not completely unhappy in both my classes. That would have been truly dreadful.

Anyway, Jillaine let us out an hour earlier than I thought she would which was a pleasant surprise so I went into town and took care of some things. Lauren, meanwhile, is still sick and basically haunting the room. I know I shouldn't complain since I spend most of my time there as well. Lauren sick is like Lauren magnified by 100 since I'm the only one she really sees at all. She waits for me to come back and then talks my ear off before I flee. The funniest moment of Lauren monologue came today when I got back from the room and she started talking to me through the door of her bedroom. I didn't say anything and she finally ended her monologue with, "Yeah, you're right. You're definitely right."

At dinner I got to gripe about my morning class to Courtney and Quinn and they were very sympathetic. Dinner was actually quite lovely food-wise (see below) but equally lovely in terms of conversation. Courtney and I had the first "real" conversation of our friendship. It was nice. For all my mocking of deep conversations, I do like to have them when I can contribute something meaningful. I'm getting much better at that sort of thing. Yes, I have thoughts and now I'm able to articulate them to others. Courtney and I discussed the program and what we think of the other people in it. Not in a gossipy, bad way, but how we feel and are treated by others. She is feeling the same amount of discontent at the sectarian nature of the program. It's like on the third day of the program everyone had already made up their minds as to who are their friends and who aren't and now it's set in stone. It's so weird because there are so few of us and we can't even be sure who it is okay to nod "hello" to on the street. At Smith there would be no question. We all nod "hello" to even slight acquaintances.

We both expressed a sort of general annoyance at the program, socially and academically. We had numerous and varied complaints and it felt so good to just get it all out there and have someone reciprocate. We carried the conversation over and back to my room for a bit before Courtney had to go out to a film screening for a class. Her tutor is intent upon forcing the class to watch Shakespearean film adaptations she herself considers bad or, worse still, hasn't even seen. Courtney is more than a little fed up with the class. No one seems particularly pleased with their minor courses, which is a definite shame. We've come so far to take these classes, they should be blow-your-socks-off amazing. It makes me sad that some aren't.

After dinner I called Dad and he was extremely nice to me as I once more railed against my history class. Everyone I've told about the situation has been very nice and sympathetic and almost everyone had some kind of helpful suggestion as to what to do. It's really sweet since (with the obvious exception of Dad) I've only known these people for a week and they already assumed that I knew what I was doing and it's the tutor's problem. I remember worrying about going to college and having to reestablish what considered "me." The "me" that I'd worked so hard to cultivate through middle and into high school. That girl who you don't ask to give the answers to something and don't ask to do drugs and all the goodie two shoes stuff. Turns out I needn't have worried. I am just me and I project that and people get it. I'm not a goodie two shoes and people get that, too. It was a funny thing to worry about. As superficial as it sounds, I really like that people get me and genuinely like me. I don't think they're pretending. I like being liked. It's a good feeling.

Note to Mike of Nov. 2006: Please don't take the following paragraph the wrong way and please do bear in mind that this was the second week of the program.

So I hunkered down for the night with more law readings. Mike stopped by for some bus-thing but then stayed, lurking by the door for a while and we got to joke around a little bit. Lauren came out of her room for a bit and, since she thinks Mike and I should "hook up" (seriously, she spends an inordinate amount of time pondering who is going to get with who), decided to be my wingman without prompting. It's a little annoying since this is basically what happens with every single guy I've ever been friends with. I become friends with him, then everyone around me decides we have crushes on each other, so I develop a crush and then that inevitably ruins the whole relationship. I think I'm just desperate for a boyfriend because I am really not that attracted romantically to Mike. I really like him and he's a great guy, but I'm teetering on that horrible verge between being happy as friends and developing the peer-induced crush.I guess it's a fun stage but I'm just really aware of everything. And refer back to me liking being liked.

So Lauren (and Courtney, I'm pretty sure) has decided she's my wingman which would be quite helpful if I wanted to go out with Mike. Lauren was quite pleased with herself (and came back out to point it out to me after Mike left) since she said, "I love Corey!" after I was exclaiming over my adoration of the UN Charter (and wishing the UN could just work like it says in the Charter) and Mike replied, "Me, too." Quite the victory for Lauren.

Anyway, Mike left, Lauren retired to bed and I went back to my law books. Christina and I agreed to meet tomorrow to discuss the roles of the Security Council and the General Assembly before presenting at 3pm. She's still stressed out about the whole thing so I think talking about it will help.

A little before ten, Courtney reappeared (with Quinn in tow) and inquired if I would like to go out to the kabob truck. This is on the list of "must-dos" in Oxford so I figured now was as good a time as any. I wasn't particularly hungry but I agreed anyway. Courtney wondered if Mike would care to join us and I told her he was upstairs doing something. So Courtney called and Mike said he wasn't interested. This caused me to roll my eyes at him over the phone, which Courtney conveyed, and he said he'd be right down. (Had Lauren been there, she would have had another victory.) I, meanwhile, was quite impressed with my eye-rolling/pouting prowess if he didn't even have to see it for it to work. :)

Note to Mike of November again: The above and the Lauren "I love you" thing were when I seriously started to think you might be interested. This, of course, only propelled me into the state of basically perpetual confusion that I would dwell in until July 29th.

So we all went out to the kebab van and I got some chips that were then dowsed in some watery ketchup that I am willing to bet was not Heintz's. But the chips were good and Mike and Courtney had something called a donor wrap (which reminded me rather unpleasantly of the Donner Party, but it turns out it was just lamb and not actually human meat so it was okay). Back in the Garden Quandrangle, Courtney and Quinn went off to discuss Beat poets and Mike ran back to his room since he foolishly ordered hot sauce and then needed something to dowse the unpleasant side effects of said sauce. So here I am back in my room writing to you as Lauren occasionally mumbles something from in her room. And this has ended up way longer than intended but since you've both been so encouraging regarding my writing I hope you'll pardon me.

I think I'll go call you (just because I wuff you sooooo much) and hopefully you enjoy this email tomorrow.

Love lots and lots,

Corey

Tonight's Dinner:

Chicken stuffed with some kind of herb/cheese thing

Curly fries

Peas and corn

Chocolate Cake

Lots and lots of water