Arg, I can’t believe I’m missing Jim Moray at the Junction by such a tenue discrimen. 14th March is the day after I leave Cambridge for choir’s Cornwall tour.
Matt and I flyered in the Market Square this morning and I was a nervous wreck after half an hour. Standing in the middle of a street being a nuisance is just awful, and I was only handing things out. I have a new respect for people who have to get passers-by to part with their money or time as well. Matt and I went for coffee in Starbucks afterwards and I had the weirdest feeling that the barista would listen to my order then refuse to serve me. Setting yourself up for rejection is a funny thing.
Lou and I have an alumni dinner at Jesus College this evening, which could be fun, but it’ll depend who we’re sitting with – god knows if there’ll be a seating plan. We know at least Mr Bunting’s coming down for it, though, and he’s fantastic.
Matt and I went to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button on Thursday, and we both thought it was fantastic. I’m torn, though, because the thought of it is still making me cry a little. Family history makes me know that forgetting the people you love is the saddest thing possible, and some parts were a bit difficult for me to watch. It’s beautifully made, though, and lots of bits of unexpected lightness, and the framing structure was really pretty. It’s a good substantial film, so I didn’t feel too bad about the whole omgnotworking.
Speaking of which, I shall finish this translation then go buy some tights. It’s being a lovely day.