No subject

[ELIZABETH DAPLYN]

	Phew!  Back to the old Foundation Course grindstone after
Christmas Time (mistletoe and whining) and all the shenanigins that go
with it, I return to find a groaning mailbox, although not as bad as it
could be because of other impoverished studes wi'out computadoras for
the festive period and therefore not sending tons o' mail to the list.
Firstly:
	BIG NEWS!  On Christmas Eve I got an unconditional offer from
Oxford Uni for the Fine Art  degree...Yipee!  Hoorah!  Assorted
expressions of glee and merriment!  I can now become a posh cow and
justify my previous pretensions...not really, I'll just stay the
middle-class cow I've always been and enjoy it so there.  

Secondly:
	Blimey!  Heated debates a-go-go on t'list between those still
umbilically-attached to their computers over Christmas or what?  I
didn't go to ANY of the gigs, you sods(my tiny hands are frozen, orphan
face pressed up against the glittery window of B&S gigdom), so I hope
you feel shamed into appreciating the marvels and incompetence which you
were fortunate enough to witness.  Toujours gai, Archie, toujours gai...

Thirdly:
	Being a flautist of some renown(ie. people see me coming, say,
"Bloody Hellfire, it's her again" and scarper) and having nothing to do/
For a minute or two, the other day I set myself to learning the
flute/xylophone/whateveritis solo from We Rule The School.  Christ!
Emajor!  That, children, is four(count 'em) sharps(hence somewhat of a
bitch to play at first), ut did I let that daunt me?  No!  I can now
grace any recital of your choice with this twiddling wee thingie, for
all the use that's ever going to be.  Suggestions of any other B&S (or
anyone else for that matter) twiddly bits for me to while away the hours
wrestling with would be appreciated.  

Fourthly:
	Well, that's about it for today, children, so I'll just sign off
while simultaneously also swearing my eternal devotion to the great god
that is Stuart Staples' boozy old voice(as this seems to be de rigeur on
ye olde liste these days), second only to our own deliciously-weak reed,
the Murdoch himself.  Well, that was a rather long email for me.  I need
a cup of tea and a lie down(for which I will require to actually go
home).  Therefore: tata fer noo.

Lots of something,
             Liz (edaplynr3n00297 at kiadroch.kiad.ac.uk)

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O life is a glorious cycle of song:
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Roumania.

                    Dorothy Parker

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