spring semester, day 1

Now Playing: Coldplay, "Clocks".

I have to admit that today wasn't exactly the best day of my life. Emmaline's alarm clock went off at six o'clock this morning. The phrase "bright and early" doesn't exactly apply since it was pitch black and cloudy outside, all last night's glorious stars covered by clouds coming up from the southwest.

We both got dressed and went about the business of getting ready to take the seven-twenty train to Belfast. Eating a hurried breakfast (cereal for me, pecan pie for Emmaline), choosing some DVDs to take, hauling our suitcases downstairs, and piling everything into the car. Mrs. M drove us to the train station. We were just in time to catch the train, which was early, dragging ourselves, limb-weary, into the seats, with our bags and baggage. Emmaline finished the Janette Oke novel she had been reading over break and then fell asleep, while I settled happily into The Lord of the Rings. While the sun rose over the small steep hills, over the crooked hedges and the sudden hummocks and barrows, over the fields of sheep and the towns with their stiff white houses, I went from the Ford of Bruinen to the last grey evening in Rivendell, and left the Company on the threshold of Elrond's house as the train pulled into City Hospital.

Emmaline and I trundled ourselves to Renwick through sidewalks crowded with students going to the first classes of the semester. In the hour between our arrival and my first class, I managed to unpack and put most things away. My first class was at ten o'clock in University Square. It turned out to be in the back classroom on the ground floor, the one painted pale blue and white inside. This is the class on Literature, Art, and Culture of the Anglo-Saxons. Unfortunately, I wasn't much impressed by the first lecture. Our lecturer is Professor H., who did most of the lectures for Discovering Old English. The class doesn't promise much discussion, though I know I shouldn't make my judgment based on the first day, when no one has read anything. He lectured for two straight hours, sitting rotundly on a chair with his legs stuck out on either side, Humpty-Dumpty style. He does know his stuff, though. And he's very fond of puns. Our first text is Bede's Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum, and as he advised us which text to buy, he said with a mischievous smile, "If you buy them all, you'll have a whole string of beads!" Referring to Canute, the Danish king who ruled England in 1030, he said, "But he's not king yet, since it's only 10:20." It does add some amusement to the lecture, I must say.

After the lecture, I discovered that the day, which had begun sunny, had become grimly overcast, though the clouds, despite their attempt to make the return to the gloom of December, couldn't obscure the slight warm wildness in the air, a foreshadowing of spring. I walked down to No Alibis bookstore on Botanic Avenue to buy textbooks. The usual hodgepodge scatter of shady mystery novels on the shelves and textbooks piled in neat alphabetical piles in the centre. The proprietor was smoothly friendly, in a way that slightly disturbs me. With my new books (two of which are "real" textbooks for the History of the English Language class), I walked back to Renwick, and discovered, to my delight a package slip awaiting me. Before rushing off to collect it, though, I put in a load of laundry, and on the way through the kitchen was regaled by Ian (unusually communicative) with a ridiculous story about how, in his blood-drawing lab this morning, half the class, composed of dentists and doctors, fainted, and the ambulance had to be called.

I practically bounced down to the post office to pick up my parcel, and waltzed back to Renwick to open it in the room. Sitting down, I opened the box, exclaiming to myself over all the little treasures. I ate one of the rather squashed cookies, and relished the familiar taste, which immediately took me back to biking home on hot summer nights and bowls of ice cream eaten before bed.

I tidied things up, and then went downstairs to scrounge up some lunch. Emmaline had brought four friends back from her math tutorial, two of whom I didn't know. I sat down with them, to finish off the tomato soup and bread while listening to them discuss their lecturers.

After lunch, Emmaline and I went to Tesco to buy groceries. So the two of us went. On the way back, Emmaline ran into at least three people she knew and stopped to chat with them. In Renwick, we unpacked things, and I spent the afternoon fiddling around. One of Emmaline's friends, Esther, came over briefly--a pleasant, softspoken girl. At five o'clock, I started to fix supper, chili tonight. Chatted with Andy L., also unusually communicative. Daphne and Catherine burst in and put on girly music, teasing Andy L., who teased them right back. Catherine dried dishes while Daphne chopped vegetables for fajitas. Emmaline, Catherine, and I had chili for supper.

After supper, washed the dishes, etc. Emmaline and I went late to CU tonight, at seven-thirty. CU was unusually uninviting. The message consisted mostly of anecdotes, and the upstairs room, despite being fairly crowded, was freezing cold. Afterward, everyone mingled, talking to friends they hadn't seen since the start of December.

Back in Renwick, Emmaline, Charlotte, Sarah W., Michaela, and I sat in the kitchen. Emmaline heated up a pizza, and Michaela made delicious hot chocolate in her careful, deliberate way. Emmaline, Charlotte, and Sarah W. laughed and talked busily.