Where to start...

... so, it's been a while. Let's move through this as quickly as possible:

I returned to the native land of snow and family-type quality time over the winter holiday season, returned to the Lovely Land of the Dean and found myself offered a job running a tutorial for the Film Department here at the University. Needless to say, me and my skint little wallet JUMPED on this opportunity. Funnily enough, I still haven't gotten paid for this position (paperwork issues) but I've found teaching my two sections of Intro to Film to be wildly, thoroughly and completely unexpectedly fulfilling. Who knew. I've tutorials that I lead on Friday mornings, a film screening in the afternoon, and compulsory lectures on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We show mostly decent, mainly interesting films like Apocalypse Now!, Vertigo, Once Upon a Time in the West and, (naturally) Braveheart. This last one I had managed to dodge seeing until this course. How is this possible, dear Miss Melville? you ask. Well, as I'm living in Scotland, I see no reason to muddy the waters with Mel Gibson's atrocious accent. I mean, really. Anyways... we'll talk about specific movies another time. My students run the gamut from Sid Vicious to Nancy Drew, but there are a few gems-- one young lad compares every (and I mean EVERY) film we watch to Die Hard. At first, I was mystified. Then, slightly annoyed. But then, honestly, it takes some work to draw the link between Rear Window and that Rickman classic. At this point, I figure it must have been a bet, and I'm totally giving him extra points for the legitimate effort and attention. I am now hip-deep in astonishingly sub-par essays and all of my grading is due in tomorrow... riiiiiiiight.

I'm still holding down my jobs with the Student Association and the Gentleman's Club. I'll leave it to you, dear reader, to guess which one I prefer. Again, more on these in separate posts.

Danger Muffin just got her acceptance letter to a masters' program at St. Andrews University yesterday, but I haven't seen her yet to take her out for a pint. I know, I'm an awful flatmate... This means I will be looking for a new flatmate for August, I'd imagine, but somehow I know that there will never be another quite like Danger Muffin.

And as for me... well, I turned 24 on Saturday last. It's strange, I don't know why this one is hitting me quite so hard. I've been aware, once or twice before, of the passing of time. Of wanting to slow it down to a bare minimum crawl-- looking at my parents, my siblings gathered in the kitchen, seeing how old we've all grown... it's strange. I tried explaining my feelings on the issue to Danger Muffin with the tired old perfume bottle metaphor: it's like you have a bottle of your very favorite perfume, you know full well that you will never acquire another bottle and yet you wear it every day because you love it so. And now you look at it and see the sum of all those little morning spritzes, liquid halfway up the little tube, the vacuum in the top of the bottle, and you know that it will never be full again, that you will reach the bottom. But you're going to wear it every day. See what I mean about a tired metaphor? I turned 23 on the 23rd last year and it was a bit of a show-- Kaypea was in town, it was quite the do. This year-- far more sedate. I don't feel like a kid anymore. I think, without consciously realizing it, I capped my youth and childhood with that Golden Birthday year, and now I'll never be 23 again. Not that I'm really lamenting this, not that I'd do anything differently with it. It's just the knowledge that I'll never have it back again. Strange. And a little disjointing.

That's enough for now. Ask me about Norway, the Club, the Dirty Diss, M3, Boston, the Almighty Mobile, fiction and Subliminal Unicorns in the near future.