No, it’s not the crater mass experiment, it’s me re-discovering my long-lost blog from that time I terrorised Munich for a few months and called it my year abroad.
Last year I was caught up in undergraduate stuff attempting to finish my Bachelors and then working out what form my new work-avoidance tactic would take.
I’m pleased to say that the Mile End Insitution for the Clinically Weird refused bail and I’m currently in the process of writing my Master’s Dissertation. Not about bread, this time. This time I’ve decided to succumb to the British tendency to obsess on World Wars and research radio propaganda during World War II. I shall explain all when I’ve finally submitted it and have a result back. Otherwise it could be a tad awkward if I blither on about how fascinating it all is and my markers turn around and look suitably disgusted. However I can say that I managed to write an essay on the translation of nonsense and got away with calling it “Bandersnatches, Boojums and Bald Twit Lions: The Translatability of Nonsense”. It got a good mark, too.
Oh, and I somehow miraculously passed my Bachelor’s degree with flying colours and even got a gold star for my magic speaky-speaky skills.
The main reason, however, for me taking this back up again is to a) force me to read more interesting things so I have something vaguely intelligent to write about, and b) as of September this year I will be working on the language assistantship programme run by the British Council and will be based in Gotha. I intend to write about my experiences in my usual bizarre style of travel writing.
Not that I intend to repeat the leggings incident, mind. This time I’m responsible for helping teach English language and culture. No doubt Herr and Frau Streipze will accompany me on my travels.
In the meantime, have a look at some of the best socks ever. Admittedly they’re battery socks and not of the pedigree kind, but I assure you that they are fully integrated into my free-range flock.