But I know a Man Who Can

So, it appears I am an e-mentor. I won't go into details, but basically it's a scheme whereby undergraduates at Oxford have e-mail correspondance with some Sixth-formers from Bradford, in a kind of aspiration-building effort. I did it last year, and it went alright, so I signed up again. That's pretty much all I've done today: meet me new e-mentee and walk around Worcester college in a slightly guided-tour fashion.

As a result, I'm pretty tired and somewhat confused. So, the blog is a token ramble. Just go over and read Carrington Vanston. No, just do.

If I could not be Alexander, I would be Carrington Vanston.

Actually, a lot of the tiredness and almost all the confusion is due to me trying to use The Trainline, always a traumatic experience. I'm considering going over to QJump. If any of you have your own favourite way to buy rail tickets, I'd appreciate knowing what it is.

To be quite frank, I'm considering just bussing on over to the station, especially since the journey I want to take is a little complicated- I'm going to stop over in Bristol with Devonfriend Paul. Trouble is, they're quite surly down there, and I have railcard issues at the moment, too.

I think I'm going to go home and have a cup of tea, and carry on my war of attrition against the heap of fairtrade chocolate in our cupboards.

Song in my head: "Girl, You Have No Faith In Medecine" by the White Stripes