Productive Procrastination

I think since I got to Oxford I've simultaneously spent more time reading in old creaky libraries AND more time procrastinating on my work by doing miscellaneous fun things with friends than I ever have before.

This may seem like a paradox, but I beg to differ after spending all afternoon today slogging through James Joyce's Ulysses, which is as much of a monster as it's reputed to be. And more.

And I also beg to differ after spending the entire weekend doing things like beagling. Which is essentially the very English pastime of dressing up in cravats and sports coats and tights and caps and going out rambling with a pack of hounds across the countryside. I've got a trio of beagles at home, who look very different (and in my opinion are cuter) than their English cousins, and seeing the pack out on the move helped satisfy the craving for puppy contact that I've had during the last few weeks. And no, I did not dress up in the traditional fashion; a few friends and I pulled on the wellies and sweaters and spent the afternoon watching the hunt while trying not to get in the way or interfere with the trail. I can't say I always understood the intricacies of the hunt, but how English we all felt!

Oh, and then there was a symphony on Saturday night in the Sheldonian theatre -- the Oxford Philharmonica played two pieces of Beethoven and I went with a group of other Rhodies. Every time I hear a symphony with my cochlear implant, it sounds different, richer and more interesting somehow, so I enjoyed basking in the curiosities of that experience another time around. (Even if it was nice to go get a drink after and unwind in the pub and ask friends what they thought the music all meant. Yes, getting into this pub life.)

And then there was the Sunday when one of my Stanford friends (in the UK for a business trip to London) came to visit Oxford. We met up with another Stanford friend for lunch, had a very fun mini-reunion, and then got into the Oxford touristy thing in the afternoon -- including climbing Magdalen Tower, the tallest tower in Oxford, with a few other friends-playing-tourist-with-visiting-friends. Pictures from high up abounded, as did the gusts of wind. As I curled up with books later on (after a dinner out at a Thai place, overloading my taste buds with spiciness after too much bland British food), I reflected on how wonderful it had been to see familiar Stanford faces and catch up on life in this bewildering new place. That made for a very satisfying end to a not-very-academically-productive weekend. (Now, more U.S. friends, come visit?)

So, there you go: Oxford, the place of distractions, compounded by grabbing tea with various new people and attempting to make it out to the variety of lectures and events happening across town. And continuing to battle the weather, which today was extremely blustery because of a so-called "hurricane" that hit the UK last night and this morning. That, combined with the time change over the weekend and the suddenly dark evenings, is preparing me for a long and cold winter ahead. Blergh.

On which note, back to reading and my companion Mr. Joyce...