It has been over a month since my last post, mainly due to me being a useless bastard. I've been putting it off and putting it off and now this post will be a behemoth (SUCH A GOOD WORD) and will take hours to write... But yes, writing. Cup of tea primed and ready. Wooo!
So first up, I finally graduated, Hurrah! This means gowns and Latin and eating strawberries. And being handed the most pathetic certificate ever (at least A-Level ones had shiny holograms on FFS). And Latin. Did I mention the Latin?
|This definitely happened.|
And then there's a load of weird stuff involving holding on to one of the fingers of some guy after some more Latin and THEN you go and kneel in front of the Master (who is wearing the most badass gown ever) and HE says some Latin and then you bow and in the act of bowing you accept the degree he's giving you.
Or something like that.
|(According to my parents, my bow was the deepest out of everyones - YAY HAMSTRING FLEXIBILITY!!!! :D)|
WHAT IF I ACCIDENTALLY PUNCH THE MASTER IN THE FACE?!?!?!?
Ummm other news, I did a bit of cleaning in college or, as I like to think of it, I was paid to swear at Henry the Hoover and repeatedly smash my head against the ceiling on low staircases. I mean, I'm not that fucking tall for fucks sake. Rage.
|I think you'll agree, that is some fine drawing right there. Damn fine.|
You can get a keyring ffs. Rage.
However, being in Cambridge for a month or so after term ended gave me chance to try out a 2-. This boat class has eluded me for most of my four years rowing: College rowing (2-! You'll die!), CUWBC (Owns one 2-, not structurally sound. It actually folds in half when you get in it) World Class Start (row in a fucking 1x goddamit!). So yes, I was excited to get in a 2- at last.
I learnt two important things.
1) I am, quite frankly, complete shit at stearing with a foot. Especially from stroke (turns out the other person sat behind you gives you quite a blind spot!).
Example outing in a 2- with me steering:
"OK, rowing off... go."
"Oh shit, lighten off Lizzie."
"Goddammit! Pressure your side"
*Oooo a straight bit!*
*Boat veers into the middle of the river as my foot is slightly to the side*
"FUCKING HELL RAGE!"
*4 strokes of decent rowing*
"OH FUCK HOLD IT UP HOLD IT UP!!!"
(There is a previously unobserved 2x bearing down on us as I hug the wrong bank).
You get the idea. After the first outing we moved the steering foot :-/ I mean, we never crashed, but I suppose I'm not the one going to get hit first in the stroke seat am I? Anyway, Lizzie was much better :-)
Lesson learned number 2: You can get away with an awful lot in 4s and 8s. Bloody hell. Trying to tighten up the timing at the catch/finish in a 2- with 2 people is hard enough, so imagine what's going on in the average 8? Sheesh!
What an amazing boat class though, it lets you get away with nothing. I mean, a 1x, you just have to time yourself and not be a retard and throw your weitght around right? (OK, massive over-generalisation but meh). 2-, if you're a microsecond getting off the power different with the other person it feels like utter shite. Kind of like being slapped round the face by the god of rowing.
What a fucking awesome class of boat it is. (Aside: I've always though 2- were the most aesthetically pleasing boat class. You know when you're watching the rowing world cup on the TV or something and they do those amazing aerial fly by shots? They are so very beautiful. Thoughts? Am I just being weird here or do other people think the same?)
So yes, 2- enjoyment!
Hmmmmm. I promised you earwigs didn't I? WELL.
I own a boatbag. It keeps stuff like bird poo and trailer crap off my boat. It is ace.
|(It does have my name on though which, in hindsight, is a bit lame.)|
It houses a reasonable colony of earwigs.
They have, till recently, kept themselves out of trouble and stay in the boat bag permanently. They can accompany me to regattas, say hello in the morning, that's fine. Until they decided to go for an outing with me. Not a pleasant experience.
What to do? I can't reach up the stern and flick them off, can't row away from the little bastards. And they're nearly at the footwell! SHIT THEY'RE IN MY FOOTWELL SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.
And that is how I nearly capsized trying to remove earwigs from my boat.
*EDIT* "Drawings that don't belong anywhere" updated. Wooooooo!