Crunch time

This is our final week of classes. Next week is a 'revision week,' AKA frantic studying and cramming, in preparation for exams the following week. My exam schedule isn't too bad: War and Society on Tuesday, History of Thought on Wednesday, US Foreign Policy on Thursday and Middle East and North African Politics on Friday. I know a couple classmates who have all four exams stuffed into two days, so I'm grateful mine are at least spaced out a bit. I have a seminar presentation to prepare for tomorrow -- "Does US Foreign Policy have an implicit Eurocentrism?" -- but after I catch up on sleep (tonight's forecast: little to none), the next two weeks will be almost exclusively filled with studying. Lots and lots of studying. I signed up for a gym membership last week and I've been making good use of it, so that'll be probably be my only diversion. That sounds bleak, I know, but it'll pay off. I've been to formal hall each Thursday for the past three weeks, and I went to formal at Emmanuel College last night with my classmate Liz (great fun, nice hall, pretty decent food, good bar!), so I'll keep those happy memories in reserve for the dark days ahead.

A few quick points before I dive into my seminar presentation:

- I received this interesting letter in my pigeonhole (mailbox at college):



The 20th is right in the middle of exams week, but I'm sure I can tear myself away from US foreign policy texts long enough to have a few canapés.

- I purchased a one-way easyJet ticket to Istanbul on April 2nd. So begins the Middle East excursion...

- A large group of Americans and like-minded British students gathered at the Samuel Butlet Room in St Johns at 12am Monday... to watch the Super Bowl. The first 55 minutes weren't too exciting, and many of the weaker members of the audience limped away. And then the game became very, very interesting. I had wagered 20 pounds on the Giants against a classmate of mine (West Point grad, loyal Pats fan), so I had extra incentive to root against the favorite (not that I needed much additional motivation... they are the Evil Empire, after all). I had even negotiated the spread to +10, so I felt comfortable, but not complacent. I only exhaled after the final seconds had expired. Brady's too good and Belichick's too crafy to ever totally dismiss, so I remained wary until... 17-14. FINAL. appeared. YES. One thing that was odd about the broadcast: because it was on the BBC, there were absolutely no commercials. I think American commentators (didn't sound like Madden, though) provided the play-by-play. Whenever a timeout was called, the camera would cut to a booth where a couple of British announcers and Rod Woodson (terrible suit, Rod!) provided analysis. Or the camera would just silently pan across the gigantic stadium As much as I complain about regular season commercials, I almost found myself longing for them, just to have something other than elementary football descriptions ("yes, the players are attempting to CATCH the ball") to listen to, even if it's rapacious consumerism.

- The amount of notes taken in 11 weeks at Cambridge:



- Daylight now almost lasts until 5pm. Amazing!

- A very much appreciated care package from home arrived today. Hooray!



- Last Saturday, about 20 people from the IR department went on a country walk led by one of the professors. The scenery was pretty dull, but the conversation -- as usual -- was fascinating. From election monitoring in Ukraine, Kenya and Pakistan to provincial governance in Afghanistan, my classmates have some incredible backgrounds. Here's a group shot:



and lastly, moi, taunting the quicksand. Yes, quicksand. In England.