Summer lovin' had me a blast

"Summer fling, don't mean a thing. But oh-oh-oh, oh those summer nights..."
 - Grease

I wasn't planning on blogging during the vac, but since the idea for a post hit me I figured why the hell not? This may not be strictly Rhodent-oriented, but how many of my posts actually are? :P

As the title suggests, I've been thinking about summer romance. No, I'm not having a torrid holiday affair - I'm a happily taken woman :) - but something in the humid December air always makes me think of flirty holiday flings. Come on, admit it: even if you're a happy spinster (is there such a thing?), you've considered breaking your vow of singledom during the summer vac. There's nothing quite like sending cheeky smses to the new hottie in your life, or lounging together over sundowners on the pier, or taking a late-night swim under the stars (or a skinny-dip. Either way ;) ). Summer adds a flavour of magic to any budding romance.

In summer 2009 I was in a long-term and long-distance relationship. My memories of that time involve early morning treks on the beach to watch the sunrise, hot afternoons watching movies and drinking Coke, and nights driving around the small beach town in a beach buggy with the warm salt breeze blowing back my hair. I had finally finished school; I was young, free, and ready to take on the world with my first love at my side. Those eight weeks were a golden summer that I will never forget.

Summer 2010 was somewhat different, as I was single over Christmas for the first time in four years. This time my holiday involved what turned out to be a true summer fling. We flirted all through the exam period, hooked up on the last night of term and spent many nights over the vac chatting on mXit and Gtalk. At New Year we finally saw each other, and of course we hooked up again (in a rather drunken state. Now that I think about it, we only ever hooked up drunk. Hmm). The flirting continued until O-week, when we hooked up again. I'm still not entirely sure what happened after that, but we stopped talking as much and our little romance seemed to dwindle away into nothing. It was probably the closest I've ever come to a real summer fling.

I'm not advocating promiscuity or flinging yourself at the nearest cute face. But take advantage of the delightfully warm weather and find someone sexy to share cocktails and a few naughty giggles with. Throw a smile over your shoulder at the cutie on the dancefloor. Chat up the bartender. Ask a hot tourist to join in a game of beach cricket. Summer is made for flirting; don't waste it! Rock your skimpy bikini, your wifebeaters, your glittery little dresses and open-necked shirts. As for me...if all goes according to plan, summer 2011 will involve Oxbraai, alcohol, and cheeky flirting with my sexy Rhodes boy. Which may not be a summer fling, but is just as good. If not better. ;)

The end is nigh

Exams have finally finished (having written my last one on the 28th of November) and now, as I sit here in an empty room, in an empty res, I find myself reflecting back over what a fantastic year this has been :D sure, firsy year was epic in its own way with its thousands of parties and drunken memories. But second year brought so much more.

I found some amazing friends in res, who I became so close to and who I'd never be able to live without. So for the first time, I'd like to mention some by name.
Thank you to Fran for awesome breakfast conversation, triple dates, sitting through boring Golden Key ceremonies together and being nauseatingly cute with her boyfriend.
Thank you to Caroline for plodding through the rain to find medication for me when I'm sick, constantly providing food and conversation in her famous pink room, letting me pull her out of her shell and for always being there to confide in.
Thank you to Ayrelia for drunken nights of running down the street, speaking in British accents, trying to fit both of us in one jacket and pretending to be a lesbian couple to get free shots.
Thank you to Tshidi for always being able to make me smile and for providing endless entertainment on nights out.
Thank you to Lulu for continuing to be the epic person that she is, telling me bluntly when I hook up too often, conversations in the corridor, dress-up parades when deciding what to wear out and giving me free neon pink underwear.
Thank you to Meg for making law lectures that little bit less dull.
And to all the rest of the Jammies girls for making this year so incredible in your own way.

Guy friends also deserve a mention...
Thanks to my favourite creep Mark for putting up with me ranting about boys, for confiding in me about anything and everything, for buying me chocolate when I'm bleak and for late-night, profound conversations at Monument.
Thanks to Trav for insightful - and occasionally fiery - philosophical debates and for keeping me entertained in philosophy class.
Thanks to Kuan for being the awesome older brother I never had, for always making time to see me and for his sage advice on relationships. :P
And of course, thanks to Kyle and Kelvin for sticking around even though I rarely see them anymore :)

As keen as I am to see my family and just relax this vac, I'm also quite sad to be saying goodbye to Rhodes for two months (the worst part being not seeing my boy for one - or possibly two - months :( ). But Christmas shall come and go, New Year shall fly past in a blur and before I know it I'll be rocking O-week 2012 with the epic 2012 Jammies house comm, the new first years, and all you cool people who can make it back in time! So travel safe this vac, make the most of your time at home/on holiday/on the beach and get ready to come back tanned, rested and prepared to party. And spread the word: "SEND YOUR KIDS TO RHODES!" :D

Til next year...

Walk of shame

"The girl was fair who went upstairs with her favourite KOK. She knocked around and came back down, and now she takes the walk. The walk of shame; she's not to blame. Who could resist the KOK? The walk of shame: she found her fame. And now she takes the walk!"

The above quote is taken from the movie "Sorority Boys" (and if you haven't seen it, DO watch it...it's brilliant. Watch the chant at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mx6xJkYJKiM&feature=related). The boys in the fraternity line up in the corridors and chant this as girls leave the boys' rooms in the morning. KOK is the name of the fraternity and yes, it's pronounced 'cock'. Giggle and get over it. :P

Now I know I'm going to come across as relatively preach-y here, but I found myself wondering this evening: when did it become OK - or even something to be proud of - to have to perform a walk of shame? Back in my gran's era, it would have been considered incredibly scandalous to be leaving a boy's bedroom in the early hours of the morning. But somehow, women's lib seems to have given us the right to act like complete sluts and proudly proclaim that we're just asserting our womanhood. As one girl puts it, "It's not a walk of shame, it's a stride of pride!"

Those of you who know me will realise that I'm not being self-righteous here (mom, if you're reading this you might want to stop here), because I've also had those early morning walks down the hill (or up the hill, depending on the guy's res). If you're returning from your boyfriend's place, then yes it's a different matter. We're adults now - technically, anyway - and staying over with your significant other is normal. One friend of mine was returning from her boyfriend's res in the morning and had some older women giving her judgemental looks. She claims she was tempted to yell at them, "He's my boyfriend, it's OK!"

But when exactly does it become OK? It seems to have become acceptable to go out, get drunk, hook up with a random guy and wake up topless in his bed the next morning. Surely that's something we should be embarassed about, not proud of? For the record - and to protect my reputation - I want it noted that I have never ever had a one-night stand (i.e. had sex with a random guy). But I know many girls who do, and it worries me that it's become normality. Yes we all know that guys have a reputation for being sex fiends and that for them to have one-night stands is considered in today's society to be OK. "So why shouldn't we have them too?" girls clamour.

Perhaps we're looking at this the wrong way. Why is it then OK for guys to have one-night stands and not girls? Why is it OK for guys to have one-night stands at all? It's a modern society, very few people allow their religions to restrict their sex lives, we're grown-ups now, blah blah blah. These are terrible excuses. The question you should be asking yourself is "Why do I do it?" Because in the end, girls, if you go home with a guy on the night that you met him then he's not going to respect you in the morning. And guys, if you take a drunk girl home on the night you met her then she's not going to have anything good to say about you to her friends. I do understand that there are exceptions to this rule (the Samantha Jones-type girls of the world) and if you're happy with a fast f*ck (excuse the language, but that's what it is) then go for it. But don't feel pressured into going home with a guy because all your friends are doing it/he promises to 'respect you in the morning'/he wants to watch a 'movie' with you. Maybe some guys really do want to watch a movie, but not the ones in my experience. Speaking of experience, if he unexpectedly pounces on you during the movie and tries to get his hand up your shirt, kick him. Hard. It works, trust me.

So now I'd like to issue a challenge to all of my readers and followers. Yes, all 7 of you. :P for one month next year, make it your goal not to have random naps with anyone. It sounds simple, but when the alcohol is flowing and he's a really good kisser, it's hard to say no. Try it. I dare you. Girls, if he likes you then he'll hang around regardless of whether you'll stay over or not (as my current boy did). Guys, she'll love you for it and rumours will go around about what a gentleman you are, resulting in hordes of girls chasing after you. So sidestep the walk of shame/stride of pride for one month. Consider it a dare.

Exam song: Procrastinating

As is tradition, here is my latest exam song for the second semester of 2012. The chorus of this popped into my head while I was studying for Latin in the library last night. It's based on "Unfaithful" by Rhianna. Hope you like it :) If you want, check out my other two earlier songs: "Can you feel the stress tonight?" (which is not particulary good) and "Library Girl" (my personal favourite).

Story of my life
Searching for a first
But it keeps avoiding me
Sorrow in my soul
'Cause it seems that low
Marks are all I'll ever see
It's more than exams
And this is more than tough
The reason that I'm feeling blue
I should be partying
Instead I'm staying in
To study all my notes with you

And I know that I am procrastinating
It kills me inside
To know that I should be working all through the night
I feel like dying

Chorus:
I don't wanna do this anymore
I don't even know the reason why
But every time I walk through that door
I know I die a little more inside
I don't wanna study anymore
I don't wanna waste away my night
I just wanna leave the library

I feel it in the air
As I chew my hair
Knowing I'll be working late
Boys at the next table
Ask if I am able
To help them with their study date
I don't want to help
I say I have to work
A lie I didn't have to tell
Because we all know
I can't help guys that slow
And we know it very well

And I know that I am procrastinating
It kills me inside
To know that I should be working all through the night
I feel like dying

(Chorus)

My work, my marks
I might as well take a gun and put it to my head
Get it over with
I don't wanna do this anymore...

(Chorus)

For the Rhodents' social life never dies!

Is it sad that I'm actually pleased to have finally begun exams? For the past two weeks I've had no lectures, which sounds heavenly until you realise that I've spent that time confined to the library with my nose buried in notes (mostly law). To actually walk into the Great Hall today and WRITE something felt fantastic :D even though I'm pretty sure I got question 4 wrong (if any Phil 2 students can help me out here, it'll be much appreciated!)

It's always interesting to see that, unlike most places, the social life of the Rhodents doesn't die during exams. Instead it simply shifts from Friars to the library; from Rat to the Jac Labs. It sounds ridiculous, but the library and the Kaif have become the social hub of Rhodes in the past two weeks. I see a familiar face almost every time I step through that awesome revolving door (nerdy quote for the day: "Whoever said anything was possible never tried to slam a revolving door") and Kaif breaks lead to conversations with people I haven't seen in ages (Hi Kelvin!). I even find myself making new friends; I had a brief discussion with a girl when I asked her to watch my bag while I went to the bathroom, and some random guy came up and asked me for help when he saw that I was reading Philosophy notes. Groups of smokers form on the steps outside the library, chattering and comparing notes while non-smokers chill at the Kaif tables with a cup of coffee or a Fizz pop. And of course there's always the entertainment that arises when a gust of wind sends someone's notes scattered across the Kaif quad.

Speaking of the Kaif, allow me to deviate slightly from my topic to comment on how weird their menu is. Hot chips...awesome. Hot chips with cheese...unusual, but cool. Hot chips with cheese and polony...wtf? Who puts polony in chips? And how? Do they cut it into tiny squares and scatter it in the bag? Or do you just get a couple of slices along with your order? I swear I'm going to order it one day out of sheer curiosity.

^ that's the Kaif. (I'm putting more photos in to make the blog prettier :P ) The slightly ridiculous-looking randoms are in the middle of a flash mob.

The Kaif is actually quite a danger zone during exams. As one friend so eloquently put it: "You'll be studying in the library and decide to take a 10 minute break at the Kaif. Three hours and R50 later, you're STILL there." I've had first-hand experience of this: half hour breaks become one-and-a-half hour breaks, one Coke becomes one Coke and a donut and and and...in the end, the Kaif doesn't make you relax. It makes you broke. And fat. And feel guilty for not studying. But you know what? I'd rather spend all morning and all my money at the Kaif than spend another ten seconds studying the property rights of African customary law. And I'd be pretty bleak if it suddenly shut down. I mean, where could I legitimately procrastinate?

PS: shout out to all the poor law students. Regardless of what year you're in, law exams SUCK.

Toastiness :)

I woke up this morning in my boyfriend's bed with the wind howling outside and a light drizzle soaking the world. Homer, I know exactly how you feel :P if I had my way, I'd still be there now. Damn exams...damn studying...
On that note, I'm writing my first exam - Philosophy - this afternoon. Wish me luck! Expect a post about exam stress sometime in the near future :P

Size is just a number

I apologise, but I feel like a rant tonight so allow me to deviate briefly from my usual Rhodent posts...after all, blogs are all about personal opinion. :P

I've recently been reading a number of pro-ana blogs (if you don't know what pro-ana is...well, you have internet. Google it) and it's provided some surprising insight for me. No, I'm definitely not anorexic - those of you who know me will know this for certain ;) and I do realise that anorexia is a mental disease. But it set me thinking about the media in general and how the 'skinny' image is permanently being shoved down our throats. It's easy to say "Be happy with who you are!" but God knows I feel inadequate 90% of the time because of these images. Why? Because that girl with her hip bones sticking out and her skeletal legs will never be me.

I know this sounds like a personal pity party, but bear with me for a moment. I've come to accept that being skinny is not natural for me. OK maybe if I starved myself for a few months then my hip bones would stick out, but I would still look odd because my bone structure means that I have naturally wide hips and would not get much narrower than I am now. And no matter what I do, I just don't lose weight. But today's revelation came when I was reading a blog and found that this supposedly 'anorexic' girl was delighted that her weight had reached 127lb. She's 5"4. I'm 5"2 and my weight is exactly the same, meaning I'm only slightly heavier (taking height into account) than a girl who classes herself as anorexic. Wtf??

So in the end, I've realised that, hell, I don't actually want to be skinny. Sure I wouldn't mind having the body of a swimsuit model, but they're not skinny - they're toned and curved in the right places. I have wide hips and a narrow waist; I can feel the muscles in my stomach hardening from doing situps and I can clearly see defined muscles in my calves when I wear heels. I can run my skinny friends into the ground when we go jogging and beat them when we play squash. So yes, I may have a big butt and small shoulders, I may not be tall or blonde or have a perfect, model-worthy face...but I'm healthy and I'm fit and I can outrun most of my friends with little or no effort. In the end, that's what matters to me. And for any guy who doesn't like it, there are bound to be ten who do. So there. :P

You drive a WHAT?!

Student cars - you can't miss them. First you hear the rattling and backfiring...then you see the rust patches and the missing doorhandles...and then it jerks to a stop in front of you, and promptly falls apart like something out of a cartoon. How I wish I was exaggerating...

In the two years that I've been here, I've been on one or two roadtrips in student cars. The first one was a brief trip to Port Alfred for a weekend, and although the weekend itself was amazing, the car we travelled in was a sight to behold. During one trip the owner of the car and his friend were sitting in the front seat while we took the back seat. I remember the conversation going something like this...
Friend: Shit.
Owner: What?
Friend: Dude, something just fell out from under the dashboard. (holds up random black thing). What is this?
Owner: Dunno.
Friend: D'you think it's important?
Owner: God I hope not. Put it back.
Whatever it was (everyone knows I am not good with cars...) it must've been important because we broke down ten minutes later. We ended up sitting on the side of the road for half an hour until a good Samaritan offered to tow us to the nearest 'garage', which turned out to be a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere. Another hour passed before a friend from Grahamstown finally arrived to pick us up. On the bright side, one of the guys did take off his shirt and thus provided something interesting for us to look at while we waited ;)

Later in the year we headed down to PE for Trivar. After some wild partying, we were driving back to the flat we were staying at when the car's clutch burnt out. And there we were, only one of the five of us sober (the driver), stuck at a traffic light in the middle of a city that we didn't know, at 2 o' clock in the morning. A police car stopped briefly to find out what was going on, 'helpfully' offered to give us the number for a towing place, then left us alone again. Drunk and tired, we decided to push the car 1km home.
We had barely been pushing for 200m when a second car pulled up behind us. You see, what with us being Rhodents and it being Trivar, we were all wearing our white, purple-painted overalls. The car which stopped turned out to be full of Rhodents as well, all heading home from their Trivar celebrations. When they recognised our overalls they decided to stop and help. What could have been a disaster became quite festive as we took it in turns to push the car, chatting and taking photos and generally being drunkenly friendly. To this day I have no idea who they were.

These are just two of many, many stories that I could share about my experiences with student cars. I've come to realise that there are several factors you can look out for if you want to tell whether a car has a student owner or not. These include:

1. Does it make strange rattling or squealing sounds when being driven?
2. Does it slide slowly to a halt when the brakes are applied?
3. Do pieces fall off when it is parked?
4. Is the bumper held on with string? (alternatively: is the aerial held on with duct tape?)
5. Does it take ten minutes to start?

If the answer to any of the questions is "YES", then it's either a student car or a broken-down pile of junk on the side of the road. Same difference, really. Unless, of course, Daddy has money and can afford to buy his little darling a BMW (don't laugh - I know people whose fathers buy them cars like that! One guy totalled his. So Daddy bought him another one). But in the end, wheels are wheels and a car is endlessly useful to any student. Even if the engine falls out everytime you close the door.

What's in a name?

When I was in primary school, my nickname was "Dictionary". Why? Because I was good at spelling and other kids would ask me how to spell things for their essays and such. I was later upgraded to "Spell Check" by the guy I sat next to, because he decided that my nickname wasn't modern enough. Since then I've gravitated through several other nicknames, but it wasn't until I hit Rhodes that I realised how common nicknames are. Especially among guys.

In my first Philosophy tut of first year, a friend and I discovered that there were several very good-looking boys in our group. We didn't know their names, so we decided to give them nicknames. Mostly so that we could perv over them together. Some of them were very boring; one guy was nicknamed Blondie because he was, well, blond. Duh. Another was the gentle giant, because he was 6"4 and talked about emotions a lot. The one I was crushing on was nicknamed the sexy loudmouth, because he was drop-dead gorgeous and talked way too much. The one my friend was crushing on was God's gift to women (which I'd assume is self-explanatory). Of course these guys never knew their nicknames (and if you're reading this and figure out which one you are, I applaud you :P ).

I think I've always been in the habit of nicknaming guy friends, but some nicknames stuck more than others. My two closest guys from school were alpha geek and the cupcake. Alpha geek came from a definition we once found in a magazine, as "the person who knows more on a subject than anyone else in the room". The cupcake was my GBF (gay best friend) who wanted to write a cookery book and use the pseudonym The Cupcake Queen. This habit extended into varsity - my friends have been nicknamed with terms as diverse as Creep (because he gets creepy when he's drunk) and Neanderthal (I just spent fifteen minutes rereading old gtalk conversations to remember where that one came from - apparently because he couldn't multitask).

Since coming to Rhodes, I've discovered that guys have some strange nicknames. I've been introduced to ones as diverse as Mouse, Mad Cow, Hedgehog, Krusty, O Snap, Frenchie and Ralph (which, incidentally, did not come from a vomiting habit as one would think; it had something to do with the character Ralph from Lord of the Flies). Sadly I can't explain where all of these nicknames come from; some are from surnames, some are from physical appearance, some are from drunken incidents, nationality or a habit of using a particular saying. Sometimes I find it's safer not to ask.

Girls with nicknames don't seem to be quite as common somehow. Shortened versions of names occur; for example, a lot of friends call me Tay or Tails instead of Tayla (although Tails goes way back to when I was much, much younger. My sister and I used to watch Sonic the Hedgehog. Because she was older, she got to be Sonic. And I got to be the sidekick named - yes, you guessed it - Tails). Francesca is known as Fran, Danelle is Dan, Melinda is Mel and Lwambeso (I hope I spelled that right) is Lulu. Now that I think about it, maybe girls are just a lot less original when it comes to nicknames. Come on, ladies! We need to get creative. We've already had one step in the right direction with one friend, who recently decided to nickname me Sensei (for reasons that will remain undisclosed...). It's not like we don't have enough embarassing drunken moments to provide for potential nicknames! (Well, I'm speaking for the Jammies girls here - I don't know about the rest of you :P ).
...actually, on second thoughts, let's scrap that idea. Certain embarassing moments should stay as secretive as possible. I can live with 'Sensei'. :P

PS: brief shout out to the phil boys. You're still as good looking as you were last year :)

Beauty is painful

One of the things I've always loved about Grahamstown is how chilled the fashions are. If you feel like rocking Friars in denim shorts and slops, no one is going to judge you. If you want to hit lectures barefoot, go for it! If you're not keen to take your slippers off (you know who you are...) then you'll probably start a new PJ trend by wearing them out. Generally, anything goes.

Except for heels.

For some obscure reason, wearing heels in this town is frowned upon. I always assumed that this was because it implies some kind of shallow-girl, poppie status which is rarely seen at Rhodes. In winter, boots with heels are OK and for formal nights out (dinners, hall balls etc) they seem to be acceptable. But a general night out in Friars or the Rat? You get judged hard. Now I found this depressing, because in the last holiday I managed to buy a gorgeous pair of hessian wedge heels that I've fallen in love with :D But I hadn't had an opportunity to wear them here yet. So one Friday about two weeks ago I decided to bite the bullet and wear the damn things out. I learned two important things that night.

Firstly, heels hurt. For a formal dinner or dance they're fine because you spend most of the night sitting down, but when you're traipsing between clubs or wiggling your butt on the dancefloor all night, your feet start to feel the strain. By 11 o' clock I was dying a slow and painful death feet-first. When I woke up the next morning, I had blisters on my toes. :( it was also near impossible to dance. The closest thing you can get to dancing in heels - short of a waltz - is a kind of retarded bouncing-up-and-down-at-the-knees with a lot of arm action. And the moment someone bumps into you, you face a huge risk of losing your balance and ending up sitting on Friar's dancefloor (which, from experience, I would definitely not recommend. It's rather sticky).

Secondly, when wearing heels there is an ever-present chance of falling on your ass. Unless you're the kind of girl who wears them 24/7, there's always that chance of overbalancing and faceplanting. Normally the solution to this problem would be to not get drunk, but I can claim from personal experience that you can bail just as hard when you're perfectly sober. While walking down the stairs into the Friars bottom bar, my heel caught at an odd angle on the second-to-last stair and I performed a very undignifed tumble into the room. Talk about an entrance...thank goodness it was still early and very few people saw it. I did have some epic bruises the next morning, but I'm not entirely sure whether those came from falling or from some other mysterious source (You may laugh, but it's rare that I wake up after a night out without at least one bruise...). On the bright side, my heels were unharmed.

On the other hand, there are many many reasons why wearing heels out is a good idea. They make you look taller (which a shortass like me finds endlessly useful); they look delicate and feminine; and they make your legs look fan-bloody-tastic :D So allow me to present you with a few hard-and-fast rules for wearing heels out in Grahamstown:

1. Don't get drunk.
2. Don't expect to be able to dance.
3. Avoid stairs at all costs.
4. Prepare a soothing foot spa treatment for the morning after.

Oh and don't wear a very short skirt with them. If you do as I did and decide to bail downstairs, you may give the boys in the room more of a show than you intend to. Or if you have to wear a short skirt, don't wear granny panties. If there's a chance you're going to accidentally flash the whole room, you may as well make it pretty :P

And so the social community falls...

On my way back from a lecture today I bumped into a friend, who filled me in on his latest drama. Apparently a mutual friend of ours had sent him a bbm asking for help carrying her bags down from the bus stop. He only replied two hours later, and she didn't respond. He tried to call her. She didn't pick up. He immediately went into panic mode, convinced that she had been mugged on her way home. Of course she was fine - she just didn't have her phone on her.

This kind of behaviour is starting to worry me. We (people in general and students in particular) have become so dependent on virtual communication that we tend to forget it's not the same as face-to-face communication. Just because someone doesn't reply to a message doesn't mean that they've been kidnapped, or they're ignoring you, or they're dead. Maybe - and I know this is a shocking suggestion - they just didn't have their phone with them. Or - even more shocking - they switched it off. Usually I would blame Blackberries for the modern communication ettiquette, but in this case all cellphone users are responsible.

Perhaps not even just cellphone users. For example, a friend of mine has a soft spot for a guy. She sent him a gtalk message just to say hi. For the next ten minutes she was checking her gtalk approximately every 30 seconds to see if he'd responded. When he didn't, discussion raged over whether he was ignoring her or whether he simply hadn't seen the message. A lot of girls seem to panic about this; as soon as a guy doesn't respond to a message (especially if it's a flirty or naughty message) the assumption is that he's being an asshole and ignoring her. I will admit that both I and my friends have been guilty of this in the past. But up until now it's never occurred to me to perhaps just call the guy instead of sending him a message, and suggest that we hang out. Simple. What's the worst that could happen? At least if he says no then you know he's not interested, as opposed to agonising over whether he's going to answer an sms.

With so many options for general virtual chitchat - Facebook, mXit, Gtalk, BBM - we forget the wonders of face-to-face, personal conversations. It becomes so much easier to read a situation when you're with the person, and it often negates those awkward pauses in a virtual conversation where you can't get beyond
"What are you up to?"
"Not much, you?"
"Same, not much."
Sending "hugs!" isn't the same as jumping on a person and squeezing the breath out of them, sending "xx" isn't the same as a kiss goodnight, sending "rofl" isn't the same as clinging to a friend and laughing until your cheeks hurt. Yes, sometimes when you can't see someone in person because of external forces (e.g. being in different cities) it helps to be able to chat to them over the Internet/cellphone network. But when the person is in the room next door, get your lazy butt out of your chair and go to say hello in person. You might be surprised at the results :) and when someone doesn't answer your message, PLEASE don't assume that they're ignoring you. Or that they've died in a terrible accident. Chances are, they simply forgot their phone when they left for lectures that morning. So chill. :)

One of THOSE days

I've always found it slightly uncomfortable to be walking down the street and see a cute boy wearing sunglasses walking in my direction. Why? Well, you can never tell quite where he's looking. You can't perve over him and you can't tell whether he's checking you out. It's a difficult situation. I've since discovered that I react to cute boys in sunglasses in different ways, depending on how my day is going...

Way 1: Self-consciousness
I hope I look OK. Is my hair messy? Is there food in my teeth? Does this outfit make me look fat? Will he notice if I surreptitiously try to push my fringe out of my eyes? Or does it look cuter the way it is? If I move it, will he think I'm trying to catch his attention?

Way 2: Paranoia
Oh God he's looking at me, isn't he? He thinks I'm fat. He's wondering 'Why the hell is she wearing that??' He remembers seeing me drunk and falling off that table at Pirates on Friday. I'm not going to smile. He'll think I'm creepy.

Way 3: Confusion
Why is he looking at me? Do I know him? Did I meet him last weekend? Didn't he hook up with my best friend's sister's cousin's girlfriend? Oh shit, did I hook up with him? No. He's cute. I'd remember that. I think.

Way 4: Confidence
Of course he's looking at me. I'm f***ing hot.

Personally, Way 1 seems to be my most common response. Or Way 3. I'm not entirely sure why it only seems to occur around boys in sunglasses, but hey, that's the way of the world :) maybe it's just because any boy looks hot in sunglasses. Hmm. I see a social experiment in my near future...watch this space!

Let there be water!

God giveth water, and the municipality taketh away. :(

You don't realise how much water you use until it suddenly isn't there anymore. For the past 48 hours the water in my residence has been off and on and off and on in a continuous cycle, and it's slowly driving me insane. Why? Consider the following...

1) Showering
Due to the lack of water in res last night, I had to take a fifteen minute walk (carrying towel, toiletry bag and clean undies) to a friend's digs in order to take a shower. This doesn't sound too bad, but consider the logistics of it: 15 minutes each way, 20-25 minutes to shower and make myself vaguely presentable for the walk back...that's a good hour that I spent just trying to get clean. And to add insult to injury, the water came back on half an hour after I got back into res. Not cool. On the bright side, at least I could shower this morning. Right before the water shut off AGAIN.

2) Washing hands
OK OK so for a lot of people, this isn't a big deal. But I am a total hygiene-freak, and I have to wash my hands before I eat, after using the bathroom and whenever I get back from lectures. Thank God there's still water in the geyser...for now. Otherwise I'll have to go and buy hand sanitiser. And it just isn't the same.

3) Drinking
I know all the stories about how Gtown water is dangerous to drink and that I'll end up with Alzheimers if I keep drinking it. But I am way too lazy - and broke - to buy bottled water and lug it back to res every week. At least there's water to drink in the dining hall; somehow I doubt I'll die of dehydration within the next few hours. But it is rather annoying not to be able to grab a glass of water when I want it.

4) Toilets
This is the one that most people don't seem to think about. If there is no water, one cannot flush toilets. Therefore, it is a bad idea to use the toilets in res. However, people get lazy. And as much as I hate to destroy the idealistic image that guys have of us ladies: girls poop. And when half the res can't be bothered to go to the res next door (or the library) to use the bathoom, the corridors start to smell pretty bad within a few hours. I really do pity the girls whose rooms are directly opposite the bathrooms; it can't be fun. Come on ladies, there are fifty-something of us living here. For the sake of consideration - and my nasal passages - take the walk next door if you have to use the toilet. It won't kill you, I promise.

When you think about it, 99% of our basic hygiene depends on our access to water.Yes I know I'm not in quite the same dire state as a person stranded in the middle of the desert, but having to walk next door every time you hear the call of nature does get a little frustrating. Especially when there's no one to let you in to the next door residence, and you have to then walk to the library. Or to the Greens. So to the Grahamstown Municipality: please, for the love of all things clean and hygienic, get our water back on! Otherwise this is going to become a very smelly res very quickly. With equally smelly inhabitants.

The stickiest of spiderwebs

First off, I apologise for my extended absence. I was on holiday for six weeks :D and naturally it's taking me a while to get back into the swing of things in the new semester. Also, I had no idea what to write about. But as always, my friends have (unwittingly) provided me with much-needed material for a new post.

Ever heard of the term "gobweb"? Yes, it is one of the grossest-sounding terms I have ever come across in my life. It makes me think of stringy saliva...ewwwie. And yet, unfortunately, it seems that 90% of the Rhodes students - in fact, most students all over the world - are involved in a gobweb of sorts. It just becomes more prevalent here because Grahamstown is such a tiny little place.
For those of you who are now confused, imagine a gobweb to be rather like a spider diagram or mindmap, where people are linked via hookups. For example, say I hooked up with Bob. Then Bob hooked up with Julie. On the gobweb, I am indirectly linked to Julie. Gettit? It's not a complicated concept.

On Sunday night my friends and I were chilling in one friend's room, drinking tea and chatting. The concept of the gobweb came up, and we slowly realised that we were all connected by at least one removal. For example, Julie and Sue are my friends. I hooked up with Bob, Bob hooked up with Julie, Julie hooked up with Fred, Fred hooked up with Sue.
...
OK it looks way better if you actually draw the diagram. It's a rather disturbing concept. In fact, it seems to be almost impossible to find someone in Grahamstown who hasn't:
a) Hooked up with one of your friends
b) Been friends with one of your friends
c) Been hit on by one of your friends.
At first I thought that hey, maybe my friends are just liberal like that :P (you guys know I'm joking...) But then last night I met a girl for the first time and we started chatting. Surprise, surprise...we've both hooked up with the same guy at some point in the past. Myself and a complete stranger not only hooked up with the same guy, but (judging from our conversation about boys we know at Rhodes in general) have almost exactly the same taste in guys. That's downright creepy. Especially when you consider how dirty and bacteria-ridden the human mouth is. To put it crudely, hooking up with the same guy/girl as your friend implies that you've both had your tongue in the same mouth. Disturbing image? My point exactly.

What is the point of this post? Mostly to really, really creep people out :D seriously though, it's no wonder that colds, flu and stomach bugs travel so quickly around the students here. Hooking up with random people is bad (Yes, I am the ultimate hypocrite. Don't judge me :P ) and it is on this basis that I applaud one particular friend of mine, who has not had a single random hookup in the almost-two years that she's been here. Not for lack of opportunity, mind - she even had one hot boy taking his shirt off on the dancefloor to impress her (or so I've heard). But, as she said last night, "Drunk or sober, I have standards."
Words to live by.

Ah l'amore

As you may have guessed from the title, I am currently studying (well, avoiding studying) for my French exam. However, after what may have been a slight misunderstanding recently, I thought it would be fun to define the different levels of love/romantic interest. As I see them, anyway. Please note that these range from least amount of romantic interest (1) to highest amount of romantic interest (5).

Level 1 - The Eye Candy
This is probably someone you've never spoken to. But when you walk into class and see him lounging in his seat, wearing a charming grin as he flirts with the swooning girl behind him, you have to actively concentrate on not openly drooling. It also takes great mental effort not to stare at his beautiful eyes all through class, or get distracted when he turns around to talk to someone. However, your interest in this guy does not extend beyond imagining what you would do if you were locked in a closet with him i.e. you do not want a relationship. You just want him.

Level 2 - The guy you "like"
One step up from the Eye Candy, this guy you have actually had conversations with. Maybe you've drunkenly hooked up or a friend has introduced you. However you may have met, you find this guy to be interesting, cute and a potential great friend. Would you date him? Meh, maybe if you had no other options. This emotions may, over time, develop into Level 3 feelings but it may also simply fade before you see him again. Only time can tell.

Level 3 - The Crush
Perhaps you've developed feelings for a close friend, or maybe you really click with the guy in your Latin class (cough). You find yourself thinking about him a lot and wanting to spend time with him. You strike up conversations at every opportunity; you sms him when you find a funny picture or joke that you know he'll like; you look forward to going to lectures/the library/the Kaif just because you know that you might see him there. You imagine what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Often, you may avoid him on your nights out because a) you don't want him to be just a once-off hookup and b) NO-ONE looks their best while drunk. No matter how pretty you may have been when the night began.

Level 4 - Relationship-in-waiting
You hook up. You spend every waking moment together. He sends you cute smses and you hold hands while cuddling and watching movies. What's the problem? "It's not Facebook official." Come on, we're all adults here. If you've talked about taking it slow then hey, that's fine. At least you've discussed where your relationship is going. But if you're being the nauseatingly cute couple while insisting that you're not actually 'a couple', please get over it. We all know that you're together. Stop trying to fool yourself.

Level 5 - Boyfriend/Girlfriend
So it's finally on Facebook and you're officially referring to each other as your boyfriend/girlfriend/soul mate. I'm happy for you :). There's not much to say about this one as it seems fairly self-explanatory. But if you've only been dating for two weeks, maybe hold off on the wedding talk. He'll still be marvelling at the fact that a girl is actually willing to hook up with him on a regular basis; he doesn't want to start picking china patterns and naming your kids just yet.

I would just like to point out that random hookups, unrequited admirers and "fun-buddies" (see, Caroline? I'm using your terms :P ) have not been added to this list. Why? Um, because they're not worth romantic interest, that's why. Don't feel the need to push yourself into a relationship with the guy just because he's into you or you had one drunken hookup. And if you're the type of person who can handle casual sex, then keep your fun-buddy that way. Romance tends to complicate things; don't start imagining feelings where none are present. Trust me, I have been down that road before and it only leads to broken hearts (his, not yours). Have your fun, but remember...play nice.

The sky is crying

I sat in my room this morning watching the rain, and thought "Even the sky is crying today..."
On the night of Sunday, 5 June 2011, a Rhodes student was travelling back from Port Alfred with two friends. I don't know the full story but there was a terrible car accident and the student - a girl named Anja - was killed instantly. I never knew Anja but from the things I've heard people say and the statuses I've seen on Facebook, she was dearly loved by many people.
I heard about the accident in the morning at breakfast, and thought it was a tragic story. It was only in the afternoon that I saw a friend's status on Facebook and realised that although I didn't know Anja, I did know one of the other guys in the car. His name was Chris and I had met him through his bartending job at Friars. We weren't particularly close, but we were close enough that we would always hug and chat when we met. From what I've been told, he was in a coma after the accident and passed away a few hours later. I didn't want to believe it when I read it.

Chris, you were one of the most incredible guys I'd met here. No matter how busy you were, you always had time to stop and chat for a while. I remember sitting in Friars with you having a lengthy conversation about the differences between Irish and Scottish Gaelic. We were so involved in our conversation that the other two at the table started getting annoyed. I also remember when I told you I was celebrating my birthday last year and I wanted a hug. You walked away a few steps, turned around, held out your arms and said "Run and jump!" I laughed and asked if you were serious. You insisted, so I did, and you caught me and swung me around. I'm pretty sure we nearly knocked someone out, but it was great fun.
I'm so glad for the little memories like that because it means that at least I have a part of you that will never go away. I don't know if there really is an afterlife but I continue to hope because it means that you're in a happier place and I'll see you again one day. I wish I had spent more time getting to know you; you were an amazing and unforgettable friend, and Grahamstown will not be the same without you. Tomorrow night, when the candle vigil for Anja is held, I hope everyone who knew you lights a candle for you as well and remembers all the special times they spent with you.

As lame as it may be, I found the most beautiful song lyrics that basically say what I'm trying to say:
"And if you were with me tonight
I'd sing to you just one more time
A song for a heart so big
God couldn't let it live

May angels lead you in
Hear you me, my friend
On sleepless roads the sleepless go
May angels lead you in."

R.I.P Christopher Wilson 15/11/1990 - 05/06/2011

Can You Feel the Stress Tonight? - 2011 Exam song

Yes I have too much time on my hands. Plus I've decided this exam song thing could be a fun tradition. Here is the new exam song for June 2011, based on the Disney version of Can You Feel the Love Tonight? I don't like it as much as Piano Man, but hey. It'll do. Enjoy :)

I can see what's happening
And they don't have a clue
They'll fail exams and here's the bottom line:
Class average drops by two.

The sweet caress of pages
There's tension everywhere
And with all this exhausted atmosphere
Disaster's in the air...

Chorus:
Can you feel the stress tonight?
The fear exam term brings?
The Rat, for once, is clo-sing early
Everyone's stu-dy-ing...

So many things to study
But how to make it stay?
It never seems to last; I wish it did!
It fades when I turn away.

I'm freaking out, I'm stressing
But what I can't decide
Is should I pull an all-nighter
Or get an early night?

(Chorus)

But if I get an early night...
It can be assumed...
My carefree days at Rhodes are history
In short, my friends, I'm screwed.

Library Girl (exam remix)

Those of you who have me on Facebook will probably already have seen this. I wrote it in a burst of inspiration while studying in the library during November exams last year. It's to be sung to the tune of Billy Joel's "Piano Man". I dedicate it to exam-writing students everywhere. Especially the Rhodents :D

It's 9 o' clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd rushes in
There's a young man sitting next to me
With a pile of books and a grin
He says "Girl, can you help me with studying?
I'm not really sure how it goes.
My summary's neat and my work is complete
But I seem to have mislaid my notes."

Chorus:
Oh I've studied all year since this started
I haven't missed one tut or class
I don't really care for distinctions
At this point, I just want to pass.

Now Fran over there is a friend of mine
She finished her last one today
She lives in Cape Town but she's hanging around
'Cause her friend is going away
She says "I don't know how I'll survive next year
Without Ella around for some fun
You guys are my mates, and you're all really great
But it won't be the same with her gone."

(Chorus)

Now Caroline's hoping to get firsts
In English she far outstrips me
She's talking to Relz, they're really good pals
And probably will always be.
Tshidi and Lulu are upstairs
I know it will be no surprise
If they both appear while I'm sitting here
'Cause I know they like to socialise (Please excuse the rather odd rhythm here...)

(Chorus)

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
Now I know how the Rhodents get by.
They party like mad 'til it hits exams
Then sit down to work with a sigh.
Now my papers are spread out in front of me
My lap is all covered in notes
I've just realised that I will not survive
If I learn anymore; I'll explode.

You know it's winter in Grahamstown WHEN...

1. You consider putting on a coat to walk down the corridor to the bathroom.
2. You go to bed wearing long pants, a shirt, a hoodie, and two pairs of socks, your heater is on and you're sleeping under two blankets...and you STILL wake up cold.
3. Cuddle-buddies are not chosen for romantic interest but rather for bodily warmth.
4. You drink endless amounts of tea just to warm yourself up.
5. You consider eating the dodgy-looking soup in the dining hall because it's warmer than your booked supper.
6. Getting out of bed in the morning becomes ten times harder...
7. ...but not as hard as getting out of a hot shower and sprinting down an icy corridor in a towel.
8. Procrastinating in the dining hall loses its appeal because of the cold.
9. When you wake up, it's seven degrees. At midday, it's thirteen degrees. At night, you don't dare open your window to check the temperature.
10. You take a moment to brace yourself against the doorway before opening the door in case the wind blows you away.

...and they all lived happily ever after

If only life was that simple. In fairytales the prince saves the princess, they fall madly in love, share their first kiss and ride off happily into the sunset. And presumably get married. While this seems idyllic, it sure as hell doesn't work that way in real life; in reality, relationships are complex and rather sensitive topics. Particularly at varsity. Let's look at a few types of varsity 'relationships' and how to handle them:

1. The Friend
Of course we're talking about opposite sex friendships here. This friend might be someone you've known for years, or maybe just someone you really clicked with. You may have hooked up at some point in the distant past and then realised that there was no real romantic attraction between you, or perhaps you wouldn't kiss this person if your life depended on it. Either way, this guy (as I am a girl. Boys, subsistute 'girl' when I say guy) is the one you go to when you have love life problems, need study notes, want to chill or just want a hug. As long as both of you are in agreement that you are just friends, this relationship is wonderfully fulfilling and rarely has problems.

2. The Admirer
Assuming that you are not interested in this person, this can get awkward. Maybe they try to lunge you every time they see you in Friars, or they repeatedly drop suggestive/romantic hints into your conversations. The best way to sort out this problem (or so I've found) is to talk to them about your current love-interest. It may be cruel but there is no better way to show indirect interest than to tell someone about the hottie in your French class that you're currently crushing on.

3. The Crush
No I don't mean the hottie in the French class. I mean the guy you can't get your mind off, the one who invades your dreams, the one who you find yourself thinking about even though you are in the midst of a random hookup. The one who can make you smile just by walking past. If you know that your feelings are unrequited, I'm sorry to say that you have no choice but to move on. Cut down on your contact with your crush and find someone new to perve over. It's almost impossible to force someone to fall for you; don't even try. It's sad, but true. Don't worry - Prince Charming will still be waiting for you!

4. The Ex
This depends on how the relationship ended. If you cheated on him, he cheated on you, or either of you threw something at the other one and screamed obscenities during the course of the breakup, I would recommend cutting all contact. This includes deleting him off Facebook - believe me, you don't really want to know what he's doing. Or who he's doing. Pretend he never existed and find someone new to ease the pain.
If, on the other hand, your relationship ended because you both decided it just wasn't working, I see no reason why you shouldn't try to turn your Ex into your Friend (see above). If you dated then you obviously had something in common once upon a time; just because you no longer make out or hold hands doesn't mean you shouldn't hang out once in a while. But keep it platonic; going back to exes is a bad idea. Trust me, I know.

5. The Hookup
Ah the most complex one. On Wednesday night you happen to meet a real cutie. One thing leads to another and before you know it you're drunkenly telling him your lifestory and making out on the dancefloor. The next morning you walk into your first lecture and (gasp!) he's sitting in the front row. Now what??
Personally I've never understood why this is so complicated. If you kinda like him, smile at him. If he smiles back, say hi and ask how his hangover is. If he looks at you like you're mad, pretend that you mistook him for someone else. Then accept that he isn't interested and walk away.
If you have no interest in him beyond a random hookup, flash a quick smile at him (it's only polite, after all) then look away and do not look back at him again. By doing this you can show that you remember him and that you had fun, but it also sends the message that you don't want further contact.

If he's ugly, walk past him and pretend you don't remember him.

6. The F***-Buddy
For those of you who can handle casual relationships, I've been told a (as my friend calls it) "fun"-buddy is a brilliant way to relieve stress. As someone who gets attached just from holding hands with a guy, I know I could never do it. If you're like me and get attached easily, don't even go there. Make sure the guy is interested in you before you decide to jump into his bed.
For those of you who prefer to keep things light and un-committed, just make sure that the other person understands this is casual. It's really not fair to lead someone on under the pretense that you may decide to be in a relationship with them, when all you really want is someone to keep you entertained on boring Friday nights.

7. The Boyfriend (or Girlfriend)
As far as I know, you can call someone your boyfriend or girlfriend when you declare yourself as in a relationship on Facebook. God alone knows why, but Facebook makes it official. As I am currently single I can't really offer useful relationship advice except for the basics:

• Don't spend every waking moment hanging off each other. You're not in highschool anymore. Grow up.
• Don't make out in corridors between lectures. It makes everyone else uncomfortable.
• Do make sure that you spend time together or go out together. This doesn't mean sticking together for the entire night; hit a club with your girlfriends, and bring him and a few of his friends along. Not only do you get to spend some time with your girls, but you get to play matchmaker between them and his friends ;)
• Never ever ditch your friends completely for a boyfriend or girlfriend. Friends last much longer than most relationships do.

Now I wish I could say that all relationships were this simple, but in reality there are often many underlying issues, past events or hidden feelings. For example, let's take A. A invites B over to watch movies and they end up kissing. Does A have feelings for B? Does B have feelings for A? Or was it just "something that happened"?
Example 2: X has a crush on Y, and they frequently hook up while at Friars. One night X sees Y flirting with someone else. Does X have any right to be angry? Or was this a 'casual arrangement'?

I'll be honest, I like watching people. I like examining behaviour and relationships, and learning how to manipulate people without them realising what I'm doing. But this relationship stuff turns my head inside-out. Bah. Humans and their damn illogical emotions. Why are we incapable of just grabbing the other person and asking "So what exactly is going on between us?"? Maybe it's a fear of rejection, or a fear of having to reject. Maybe we're just shy at heart. Or maybe we just feel bad about putting the other person on the spot.
At the risk of sounding completely dodgy, I sometimes wish that humans worked more like the Bloodhound Gang put it...
"You and me baby, we ain't nothing but mammals. So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel!"
Crude, yes. But life would be SO much easier.

Om nom nom at its finest

Exams are looming and I for one am terrified. I've officially perfected the art of procrastination to the point where I don't actually do any work at all. :-/ however, tonight I went to buy my exam supplies just to prove to myself that I really do mean to start studying. Not that tea, milk and coconut biscuits would really help me study, but I like to believe it's a mind over matter thing. If I can only convince myself to study every time I pour a cup of tea...

As swot week has now begun, we had brunch in the dining hall this morning. For the non-Rhodents among you, I can say only this:
Brunch. Is. LEGENDARY.
Imagine the biggest amount of food you could eat in one sitting. Actually, no, imagine the biggest amount of food a professional pie-eating contestant could eat in one sitting. Then multiply that by ten. THAT is the amount of food we get given at brunch, and it's generally much much nicer than the usual dining hall food. Today's brunch menu included: cereal, fruit (oranges, grapefruit, melons), yoghurt, scones with butter and cheese and jam, muffins, fried eggs, bacon or a vegetarian patty, baked beans, chips, omelettes, sausages (pork or soy), some fishy thing in an odd sauce, toast, tea, coffee, juice, syrup and peanutbutter and and and...

It was epic.

And I may have even left a few things off the list; it was hard to keep track of all the different items of deliciousness that were hovering enticingly on my tray (OK they weren't actually hovering. That would be weird). Brunch started at 10am; the queue was already forming outside the hall at 9:30. By the time I'd eaten and left, people were still queueing for their amazing abundance of food. We all ate our weight in carbs and oil, and then slowly rolled one by one out of the door while loudly proclaiming that brunch was the highlight of the semester. I like to rationalise this overindulgence by pointing out that we become SO stressed during swot week (with studying or procrastinating) that we don't eat properly. Brunch is thus important to prevent us from becoming malnourished and weak during the exams. I'm pretty sure I now have enough starch inside me to last until next semester; in fact, I may never have to eat again.

Not that it stopped me going to supper, of course. Damn you, appetite! Ah well. I always get fat in winter. Third term is my weight-shedding term; my exercise/running term. Until then, I shall ignore my squishiness and mentally prepare myself for the oncoming slaughter that is exams...

Recipe #1: Relaxation

This simple step-by-step recipe for relaxation has been designed with girls in mind, but with a few modifications any boy could use it too! It is best prepared on a cold, rainy night.

Step 1
Place person in hot shower. Add shampoo and conditioner of choice. Rinse. Scrub well with exfoliator of choice (not too hard!) and rinse again.

Step 2
Switch off shower. Wrap person in soft, clean, fluffy towel and transport to room.

Step 3
Blowdry hair and douse person liberally in body lotion of choice for soft, sweet-smelling skin.

Step 4
Wrap person in clean pyjamas and place in a warm bed, underneath a thick feather duvet. Add tea/coffee/hot chocolate, a good movie/book and a few blocks of Lindt chocolate.

Result: one very relaxed girl!

Note: do NOT, under any circumstances, add studying, work or stress to this recipe as the results will not be the same and the recipe will spoil. Adding loud music may also spoil the recipe, but it may be partly saved by including earplugs OR earphones with relaxing music.

Optional extras:
If you so desire, a cuddle-buddy of choice can be added after the person has been wrapped in pyjamas to lead to ultimate relaxation. It is not advisable to add the cuddle-buddy before the pyjamas have been added or during the shower stage, as distraction from completion of the recipe is likely. ;)

Overcompensation my friend

It is almost nine o' clock on a Monday night. This is the last week of lectures for the semester; next week is swot week, and then the horrors of exams begin. Being the good little nerd that I am, I've decided to forego all going out for the near future (especially after the past weekend's debauchery...) and focus entirely on my studying. (Yes I do understand that I am typing pointless blog posts instead of studying. Don't judge me...). My first exam is an oral exam for French next Tuesday, and sadly all of my exams are within the next two weeks. So I am confined to my room.

Unfortunately, the less-studious students - or perhaps those whose exams begin later than mine do - are keen to celebrate the semi-finals of the Internal League Rugby, and possibly to enjoy the legendary Cougar Monday at Pirates. Luckily for me they seem to have decided to party right outside my bedroom window. Some idiot has parked his crappy little student car in the road and is blasting commercial dance music like Katy Perry and Lady Gaga on his "high-tech" sound system. Dear idiot...have you ever heard of overcompensation? You know, when little boys buy big and expensive toys to make up for what they're...ahem...lacking in other areas? If you need a fancy sound system to impress the ladies because God didn't give you impressive biological status, then that's your problem and not mine. Go and play your silly sound system elsewhere. Even if it does get her into bed, I doubt she'll be impressed for very long. Why not just take her somewhere nice and buy her dinner? Somewhere far away. And do it quietly.

(Please excuse the bitterness of this post. At any other time I would probably be jamming in the streets with aforementioned idiot, but tonight I am feeling flu-ey and cranky. I like to think that's a good enough excuse for my current bitchiness :P and to my friends who are still wondering about mystery guy who was watching movies with me...
...drum roll please...

...no I'm still not telling. :P)

Awkward...

Today I was sitting in a philosophy lecture when a good-looking boy walked into the room. Now this isn't unusual; philosophy has a lot of good-looking boys. I've even considered adding it to my list of things I look for in a man (good looks, funny, intelligent, does philosophy etc.). But when I saw this particular bo, my thought processes were something like this...

He's cute. (pause) Hey...I know him! I met him on Saturday night! (pause) ...what was his name? (pause) Shit. Where exactly did I meet him??

Then he sat down in front of me and I spent the rest of the lecture wondering where I'd met him. I think he might have danced with me and my friends in Friars, but I'm not entirely sure. A lot of that night is...rather hazy. I could've stood next to him at the bar at the field party. Or brushed past him at the Rat. Or even had a conversation in the line for the bathroom in Friars (I've made a surprising amount of friends that way...). God alone knows where we met, or even what his name is. At least I know we didn't hook up, that could have been way more awkward :P

But don't you hate those moments? Meeting someone and not knowing how you know them? Especially when it's someone who's relatively easy on the eye (you know...a total cutie ;) ) and you kinda want to say hi. But just imagine how that conversation would go...

Me: Hey, I know you don't I?
Him: Ya, we met on Saturday night.
Me: I thought so! I'm sorry, I don't remember your name?
Him: ...that's OK.
<cue awkward silence>

...exactly. All it does is lead to awkwardness, awkwardness and more awkwardness. I'd rather not make my lectures any more uncomfortable than they have to be. Plus trying to hide under a desk every time he comes in would be difficult to arrange. And would make taking notes hard too. But hey philosophy boy, if you want to talk to me, I promise not to make the conversation awkward :D I mean, you ARE cute after all...

Teach me, O Wise Ones

When I was in first year, my tutors were like gods. I know it sounds lame now, but I was in awe of their supreme academic status. Three of of my four subjects required tutors to be postgrads, so they were all fourth years at the very least (Honours or first year LLB). Tuts were fine, but I was always nervous about pre- or post-tut conversations because I was worried about coming across as an idiot when compared to their clear superior intellect (OK maybe not to my old psych tutor. The girl was a moron).

Come second year and things changed. My Law tutor, much like my old psych tutor, is a moron. He refers to us as 'okes' and drawls all of his words. It's like listening to a broken radio that happens to be stuck on one continuous, monotonous station. I have no doubt he knows the work, but his brain-to-mouth function seems broken. Or slightly faulty, at the very least.
My Latin tutor is a little scary, and also a bit monotonous, but nevertheless friendly. Then I walked into my French 1P lecture and saw her sitting in the back row. She speaks French as badly as I do! I am no longer scared of her. :P

Finally, my French tutor...when he walked into the tutorial room on the first day, I nearly fell over in shock. You see, I know him. I have predrunk with him at what may or may not have been one of the most debaucherous pre-drinking sessions. I wouldn't know...I lost count of my vanilla vodka shots when the number reached 8. The only things I remember are running down the street holding a friend's hand, and hooking up in Friars. With who, I can't clearly remember.
No, I didn't hook up with my tutor (Thank God. That would make tuts way more awkward). But the knowledge that he has seen me in one of my more drunken states is a little daunting. On the bright side, my teasing him about his zombie-like drunken state last Saturday doesn't seem all that inappropriate. In fact, knowing your tutors like that makes pre-tut conversations a lot more interesting. For example, we once had a ten-minute conversation about the awesomeness of cake. I doubt I could have done that with those English Masters tutors last year...

So to sum up my views on tutors this year:
1. My Law tutor says 'oke' and is an idiot.
2. My Latin tutor does French with me and therefore is not scary.
3. I have gotten drunk with my French tutor a few times before, and he likes cake.
4. My philosophy tutor is married to my Latin lecturer, which makes her a lucky girl because all the Latin students adore him.
5. One of my friends is a Classics tutor.

No, I am no longer afraid of tutors. Well, possibly except my Law tutor. I just hope to God he never sees this...I still have to pass his tuts, after all.

Spooning in the dining hall

This evening's rant is brought to you by Frustrated Tea-drinkers Anonymous.
Tonight's (hopefully short) venting session is on a particularly touchy topic that many readers may be sensitive about. Please read with caution.

Those of you who drink tea/coffee in the dining hall may already be nodding your heads in agreement, having guessed what I'm on about. As the dedicated tea-and-coffee waitress of our regular dining table, I'm accustomed to gathering orders ("Two sugars and milk", "Rooibos, one sugar but no milk", "Coffee, black" etc) at different meals. I've even started recognising who likes what, and who is more likely to accept an offer of a hot beverage. So I trot off to the tea table.

If it is breakfast time, there are no problems. I pour the tea and head back. However, if it is after 13:00 at lunch, or if it is supper, I often find myself facing the terrible dilemma of the Missing Teaspoons. Many a time I've approached the tea table only to find that there are no spoons at all, or perhaps only large tablespoons. How am I meant to create the perfect cup of tea with two sugars if there are no teaspoons to measure it with?? Tea pouring is an art! An exact science! Trying to guess how much one teaspoon of sugar would be on a tablespoon is no mean feat. And once - I swoon to even think of it - there were no spoons at all but some bright spark had put a fork in the sugar bowl. Yes genius, I can measure sugar into my tea with a FORK. I would have had more luck, and possibly accuracy, by dipping the cups in the sugar bowl themselves. Which I did, in the end. The tea was uncommonly sweet that day...

Then with my uncomfortably sugary tea I head back to the dining table where I am faced with yet another potentially embarassing problem: how do I stir it? Stirring with the tablespoon is acceptable, but I've often found myself reduced to stirring my tea with the back end of a knife or fork. Oh the shame...I always feel like I've reached true plebian status when I have to stir my tea with other utensils. Is it really so difficult to keep the dining hall supplied with teaspoons?? There are almost ALWAYS hundreds of the damn things there at breakfast, so where do they all go at lunch and supper? Come to think of it, the peanutbutter seems to undergo the same attack of shyness and hides away during lunch and supper. And as soon as yoghurt is available at breakfast, the syrup mysteriously goes missing.

Peanutbutter, syrup and teaspoons. Is that really so much to ask for? Oh and more tomatoes in the salad. NO ONE eats lettuce. You'd think they'd have realised that by now.

WHOOOOoooooOOOOoooo

No, the title of this post is not my usual "Whooo!" of excitement. Rather it's meant to represent the sound of the wind howling outside my window at this particular moment in time. WHOOOooooOOooooOOO!
Yes. I am actually making that noise out loud to see if it sounds right. And I wonder why people think I'm weird...

On to tonight's rant. As it is 9:30pm on a Friday, I should by all rights be relatively tipsy and on my way out to have a serious weekend jam. However, my usual plans have been thwarted by two annoying aspects

1. The weather
As mentioned before, the wind is currently whoooo-ing quite strongly outside my window. And this is not the lovely warm KZN wind...this is true Eastern Cape wind. The kind of pervy wind that makes its way into your clothes and bites at all your warmest body parts. Needless to say, I prefer my body parts to remain unbitten (by the wind, anyway ;) hehehehe!). This wind is like needles of ice, tiny frozen flies, being dropped into a lake in Greenland in the middle of winter and many other cold-related cliches. On the other hand, my cosy bed and lovely thick feather duvet are inherently more appealing, regardless of the strong sense of FOMO present tonight.

2. Life
Yes, life has got in the way of my plans once more. At the beginning of last term my law lecturer announced that we would be having a test on 17 May. No biggie, plenty of time to plan ahead. Then my philosophy lecturer announced that we would be writing a test on the term's work. When? On the 17th of May. Gee, thanks Tom and Dr Kruger. Now I get to write a test on each of my majors ON THE SAME DAY. Yay. Lucky me. And seeing as I'm keen to celebrate the SRC's 101 Year Birthday (read: get drunk and eat free cake) tomorrow night, I cannot afford to have my usual Friday mare or else I'll never get all my studying done in time. Sad Tayla. :(

So here I sit, alone, sad and lame (in the pathetic way, not the crippled way). My only consolation is that many of my friends are also being faders tonight because of the weather and the mountains of work that lecturers have decided to drop on us in the few weeks before exams. Sigh.
Actually, just listening to the whoooOOOOooooOOo outside...perhaps staying in tonight isn't such a bad idea. Tea, a good book and my duvet...versus freezing wind, alcohol and a skimpy outfit.

Ya...I'm going to go with the tea. And if that means I'm becoming old and responsible, so be it. Last year in the June holidays I found myself sitting on the couch at home, drinking tea, stroking my cat, watching British comedy and knitting (it was a scarf for a friend...). I have long since come to terms with my impending senility. :P

(WHOOOoooooOOOoooo...)

PS: my previous post about fashion faux-pas seems to have mysteriously disappeared. If anyone can help me solve this strange occurrence - and return aforementioned missing blog post - I would be much obliged.

Fashion faux-pas

I've often looked around campus and found myself thinking Gee people wear some odd outfits. Perhaps it's just the whole university vibe, but students seem to feel the need to wear bright, outrageous or just generally weird clothing to parties, to lectures and just generally around town. I fully support people expressing their individuality, but there are certain items of clothing that HAVE to go.

1. Leggings
Now I myself often wear black leggings with a long T-shirt or a long tailored shirt. I happen to think that, paired with flat boots, it gives quite a nice look. But what is with all these girls wearing leggings as pants? I read Glamour magazine (don't judge me...) and I clearly remember one article about a year ago that stated "If you're going to wear leggings, make sure that your top covers your butt". I agree wholeheartedly with this idea. No matter how shapely your legs are or how pert your butt is, leggings should not be worn as pants. They were not designed as pants. And they look weird.

2. Extremely short rugby shorts
Obviously this one is pointed at the boys. If you're playing a rugby game or walking home from practice, then by all means wear your little shorts. But please, for the love of God, don't make a point of walking around campus in them. We all know that guys have bulky/muscular, hairy legs and I find it strangely disturbing to see a guy in tiny rugby shorts. I can only imagine how the poor lecturers must feel when these guys sit down and they are faced with an array of barely-covered crotches. I am pleased to say I've never had to experience the potentially horrific front-view of a boy in tiny rugby shorts sitting in a tiered lecture theatre, and I never want to.
Especially if the shorts are white.

3. Mix n' match
Some mix and match combinations look good. Masculine pants with a floaty top; a patterned top with solid, dark-coloured leggings; a black dress with bright heels...these are acceptable. But when you're wearing a flowery-patterned top that belonged to your grandma and pants that look like they were made out of an old living room carpet, then you're doing it wrong.

4. Revealed underwear
Girls, if I can see your pantyline then your pants are too tight. End of story. Don't wear black bras under white shirts or, even worse, a black thong under white pants. As a friend of mine pointed out the other day, it's just downright slutty. The world will automatically assume that you're wearing underwear, you don't need to show it. And on that point, if you're going to wear a tight top then make sure that your bra isn't too tight. The sexy effect of a tight top is ruined if you have unattractive bulges around your back.
For the record, this applies to guys as well. The "lockdown look" of baggy pants hanging low enough to show off your butt is so 90's. MOVE ON.

And so ends today's fashion lecture :P I know, I know, I'm not the most fashionable person on campus. I'm not always up to date with the latest French trends and I have no idea what the stars are wearing this season. But I like to think that people don't look at me and go "OMG what is she wearing??". Of course, I may be wrong. If you ever see me wearing a truly hideous outfit, PLEASE let me know. Sometimes it takes an outside perspective to know when you've overstepped the line of the fashion gurus :P

Bop boppity bop :)

It's been a long day and I am SO not in the mood to study. Trying to procrastinate, I made my way back onto my pc - as usual - and dipped into my (admittedly vast) music collection. Next thing I know, I'm happily bouncing up and down in my chair in an attempt to dance in my seat without pulling my earphones from the laptop socket. Isn't it amazing how music can change your mood in an instant?? :D In the interests of cheering up what few readers/followers this blog has - and so that I have a further excuse to study - I am compiling a list as I type of what songs I find best to listen to when in certain moods. If you don't like them...your problem, not mine. :)

When you feel like rocking out (the punky stuff - I don't like heavy rock)
He Wasn't - Avril Lavigne (girly punk!)
Teenagers - My Chemical Romance (perfect for headbanging)
American Idiot - Green Day
I Want You to Want Me - Letters to Cleo
Girls Don't Like Boys - Good Charlotte
Oxymoron - Zebra and Giraffe

When you want to laugh
It's Just Porn, Mom - The Trucks (it really is brilliant)
Elmo's Got a Gun - Bob and Tom
Anything by Weird Al Yankovich, if your tastes swing that way
The Kids - Eminem and the South Park kids

When you're in love
I Can Hear the Bells - Nikki Blonsky (yes it is from Hairspray. Don't judge me...)
Underneath Your Clothes - Shakira
Lucky - Jason Mraz
Marry Me - Train
Falling Down  -Thus Far

When you're broken-hearted
No Suprise - Daughtry
I Need a Hero - Jennifer Saunders
I Don't Love You - My Chemical Romance
Fall to Pieces - Avril Lavigne
F*ck You - Cee Lo Green ft 50 Cent (especially when you're drunk!)

When you want to be put in a good mood (this is a looong list!)
The General - Dispatch
Stay the Night - James Blunt
The Bird and the Worm - Owl City (<-- this is the ULTIMATE happy song)
Into Yesterday - Sugar Ray (epic surfer-type song!)
Walking on Sunshine - Ali & AJ
Mrs Robinson - Simon and Garfunkel
Big Girls - Mika (well it puts ME in a good mood anyway).

Best songs to sing to
Billy - James Blunt
Anything by the Beatles. Especially Yellow Submarine.
Someone Like You - Adele
Buttercup - Mean Mr Mustard
I Believe in a Thing Called Love - The Darkness (belt out those high notes!)

I was going to add a list of music that I think is good to party to, but I'd end up posting my entire dance playlist. And that's a lot of song names to type out. So I shall end off now. But if you don't know any of the above songs, do yourself a favour and check them out. They're all pretty amazing and definitely worth a listen :D The usual amusing blog posts shall return as soon as I have had enough of headbanging around my room. With my curtains closed. I mean, people think I'm weird enough as it is...

Dionysus, god of wine

As it is Saturday morning (only just...), I'd assume that many of my readers were out maring last night. In fact, I KNOW many of you were - I saw you :P but for once, I was doing the (almost) sober cobra, which is unusual - and not recommended - in a place like Friars. Despite the fact that my almost-soberness put a rather obvious damper on my evening, I did find myself noticing things that I would never have noticed while drunk.

As we all know, Friars is known as the home of the drunken-lunge. If you are lusting after someone in particular and you spot them at Friars, it has become almost acceptable to randomly grab and kiss them on the dancefloor, dirty-dance with them or hook up in the corner of the middle bar (you know, the one under the TV. Personally, I have never hooked up in that corner. Just saying). I sat watching these drunken lunges last night - and there were many of them - and wondered what exactly it was that set off this display of debauchery. OK I know alcohol causes you to lose your inhibitions, which is why startling the object of your affections with an alcohol-flavoured kiss suddenly seems like a good idea. But why is it that all of our uninhibited actions seem to include some form of sexual activity? According to some brief google research that I did, the age during which people experience the strongest forms of sexual arousal are between 19 and 30, which could serve as an explanation. (Note: do NOT google words like "age" and "strongest sexual arousal" unless you have ensured that safe-search is switched on. I have now seen pictures that scarred me for life :-/ why does Google assume that "age" means old??). Combine that with dark rooms, music with a heavy beat and lots of bodies wriggling around together and suddenly I can understand why clubs have become so...sexually-oriented.

But this is the most important part of my question: why Friars? Why do you not see as many drunken lunges in Pirates, or SSS, or the Rat? And why do you never see them in places like Durban and Pretoria? The dancefloors are equally dark, the music is the same and there are, if anything, even more bodies wriggling around (I'm sorry, I just can't refer to what white people do on a dancefloor as "dancing". Not after hearing Lulu's opinions on it :P ). I've been told by male friends that Friars is a brilliant place to find a one-night stand and that hooking up is almost mandatory. Last year I believed these rumours, and hence became known as a bit of a wild child when it came to dancefloor kissing (I blame my sister's influence). Now that I am older - by a few months, but still - and hopefully wiser, and also despise hangovers, I've realised that perhaps people only hook up in Friars because it's what they think they are expected to do. We all know that Friars is very much a first-year hangout, even if some older students still frequent it. Perhaps these first years hear the rumours about Friars hookups, think "That sounds fun" and thus pounce on each other as soon as they're through the door.

This is clearly something I need to give more thought to. I shall add it to my list of "questions that plague me". (Which includes: why does cake batter taste better than the cake itself? How do first years get fat if dining hall food is so gross (see below)? Why do people feel the need to update their Facebook statuses while drunk, myself especially? Stay tuned for more from this fascinating series! :P ).

Winter dilemmas

As the weather rapidly turns icy, I find myself faced with the same annual dilemma: what does one wear in 9 degree weather to keep warm and still look good? Last night, for example, I went out with some friends. We planned on watching the rugby and then heading to Friars for a good jam. Plans made, I headed back to my room and flung open my cupboard. Only then did it hit me: what on earth should I wear?

You see, the dynamics of choosing an outfit in winter are complicated. First of all, the rugby. The game would be outside (duh), so I knew there would be a freezing wind blowing and I should wrap up warm. On the other hand, Friars is always hot inside so wearing a thick jersey would be out of the question. As would a coat, as dancing in knee-length polyester or a bulky fur-lined jacket is not possible. Well, not without looking like the Michelin Man anyway. Thus, I found myself torn: should I freeze at the rugby? Or boil over at Friars?

Ultimately, my hair made the decision for me. I have been blessed with hair that, when exposed to heat and humidity, rapidly turns into a gigantic frizzy afro/hat. However, in cold or dry weather it is more likely to behave itself. And so, in order to preserve my dignity and prevent myself from looking like a brunette Ronald McDonald, I decided to brave the cold winds and wear tights, a long-sleeved shirt and flat boots. I lasted all of half an hour at the match before giving in and sprinting to the warmth of the Union. On the other hand, I survived quite comfortably in Friars. In short, I have decided that watching rugby matches and going out to clubs should not occur on the same night, unless one is willing to trek home and change outfits in between the two. Which one (well, this one at least) is usually not willing to do, because going home while still drunk is considered to be an epic fail of a night.

What seems unfair is that guys don't have to undergo the same dilemma. They toss on a pair of jeans, a clean T-shirt and a hoodie, and voila! Outfit sorted. When they reach the warmth of Friars, off comes the hoodie to be tied around his waist. Somehow this just doesn't look as unattractive on guys as it does on girls, so they can get away with it (of course, that's just my opinion).
I often think life would have been easier as a guy. Outfits are simpler, no concerns about period or labour pains, fights are sorted out with fists rather than catty comments...their worlds are simpler in general. Although considering my height and general appearance, I think I'd be a very unattractive boy; a Justin-Bieber type male. And most likely gay. I simply cannot imagine being attracted to females.

...OK this post has gone WAY off my original point. I'm going to end now before it gets any more decidedly weird. Maybe I still have some of last night's alcohol in my system...that would explain a lot.

And so it begins...

It's official: Old Man Winter has arrived in Gtown. As a KZN girl, I am accustomed to throwing on the odd hoodie during winter, and perhaps a scarf on the really cold days (you know, when the temperature drops below 25 degrees). Having been home for the Easter weekend, I had once more become used to tottering around the house in a mini skirt and thin jersey without feeling the slightest chill. When we arrived back at Rhodes yesterday afternoon, we were greeted with the coldest wind I have felt in a loooong time, and a temperature of 10 degrees Celsius. Guess who was still wearing her mini skirt? I think my legs are still numb today.

Naturally, after a long day of travelling, I thought that a lovely hot shower would be a good way to warm up my chilly body. I distributed my toiletries around the bathroom, switched on the taps, tossed my clothes onto the hook on the back of the door and stuck one hand into the spray to wait for the warmth.
And waited.
And waited.
After five minutes of miserable, naked shivering I finally concluded that my hot shower was not going to happen. I didn't have the courage to immerse myself in that freezing dowpour, and so I flicked the taps off again, wrapped myself in my towel and shivered my way down the corridor, making disgruntled and threatening sounds under my breath. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I ended up trying to wash myself in my bedroom sink, using water I had boiled in my kettle. Such is the student life.

Thankfully the hot water had returned this morning, as I don't think I could go through another sink-bathing session. Unfortunately, the cold wind had returned too. According to the Rhodes website, the temperature at the moment - at 11:39am - is 15 degrees. Personally, I'm pretty sure it's colder than that. As soon as I got back to my room after lectures I switched on my heater and my kettle. Before even putting down my bag. Now I'm sitting here with my windows shut, my heater on full, my scarf still wrapped around my neck and my easily-chilled feet snugly encased in calf-high boots. And guess what? My nose is still numb. I'm actually holding a mug of tea against it to try and warm it up.
I don't know what it is about me but as soon as there is the slightest hint of cold wind, all my extremities go numb. Fingers, toes, and especially my nose, which has a habit of turning bright pink to match my rosy, chilled cheeks. Thank heavens I'm not male or my chances of procreating would have disappeared with the first Grahamstown winter.

In order to overcome these numb extremities, I have come up with a business proposal. I am going to knit - and sell - nose-warmers. In case you can't picture it, imagine a tiny knitted hat that would fit over one's nose, with an elastic to go around one's head and hold it on. Yes, they would look ridiculous. BUT if I knit them in neon colours and convince JayJays to endorse them, I'm willing to bet they'll quickly become a huge trend amongst Rhodes students. Not only will we all look ridiculous together, but we'll also have the most colourful campus in South Africa during the winter months. And my numb-nose-issue will be a thing of the past. It's a win-win situation for all!

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and find somewhere that sells neon coloured wool.

1 in 9 Silent Protest

"72 500 rapes were reported in South Africa last year. Only 1 in 9 rapes were reported to the police and of those only 4% were successfully prosecuted. My silence affirms my solidarity with survivors silenced by rape and sexual violence. Freedom of Speech is denied to victims of sexual violence. I call on all men to break the cycle of sexual violence."
          - Message on 2011 Silent Protest T-shirt

Seeing as this blog is (or at least claims to be) about life as a Rhodes student, I thought I would break away from my normal joking/playful posts and say a bit about the 1 in 9 Silent Protest that took place at Rhodes on 15 April 2011. For those of you who do not know about 1 in 9, it is a movement against sexual violence and rape. The focus of the campaign is the fact that so many women - and indeed men - are too ashamed or afraid to speak out about the sexual violence or abuse that they have undergone. Participation can be in one of four forms:

1. Rape survivors: these brave women wear T-shirts telling the world that they are rape survivors who have spoken out, and encourage other survivors to do the same.
2. Silent protestors: these female participants wear T-shirts explaining about the protest. They have their mouths sealed with duct tape at the beginning of the day, and have to spend 12 hours without speaking, drinking or eating to show solidarity with those who are silenced by rape.
3. Men in solidarity: male participants wear T-shirts explaining about the protest and encouraging other men to speak out about rape and to stop the cycle of sexual violence.
4. Women in solidarity: femal lecturers who cannot be silenced for a day or students with health problems wear T-shirts similar to the men in solidarity.

This year was the first time I had taken part in the silent protest, and to say it was an eye-opener would be an understatement. The day began in the Great Hall, where T-shirts were handed out and speeches were given by those running the campaign and by some rape survivors. We were then taped and sent out into the world to live as silent women for a day.
Surprisingly, not eating and drinking was not as difficult as I'd expected. The tape was distinctly uncomfortable, and being unable to communicate made lectures and tutorials far more difficult than usual. As someone who rarely shuts up, I found it strange to have to keep my thoughts to myself throughout the day.

At midday a "die-in" was held in the library quad. Similar to the "sit-ins" staged in many protests, this consisted of the protestors lying, silent and unmoving, in the quad for about an hour. For me, this was the most challenging part of the entire process. I had forgotten to bring a jersey and the concrete floor was freezing cold. I closed my eyes, feeling tired, hungry and miserable, and tried to focus on the reasons that I was taking part in this protest.

What are those reasons, you may ask? I have no direct or personal experience with rape or sexual abuse; I have not undergone it and none of my friends or family have told me that they have undergone it. But during the protest last year I saw one of the girls from my res wearing a rape survivor shirt. I was shocked and horrified that such a beautiful, bubbly and fun girl had been through such a hellish experience, and to realise that someone you know has been raped changes it from an abstract idea into a real and terrifying prospect. It was because of her that I decided to take part this year.

At the end of the day a march was performed down High Street to the cathedral, where the silence was broken and we were allowed to remove the tape. One girl stood up to speak. She told us that she had been a silence protestor all day, but that now she was ready to tell people that she was actually a rape survivor who had been too afraid to speak out. The storm of applause that greeted her words just went to show that all the support she needed was right there.

Those of you who know me well also know that I am not generally a sensitive or empathetic person. Photos of starving children in Northern Africa rouse no emotions in me. But to sit in a room full of people and hear these brave women speaking about the horrors of rape, and how they had managed to survive the ordeal, affected me in ways that I never thought it would. I am proud to have taken part in the protest this year, and I encourage all Rhodes students to take part next year.