The Observer's Ball

Today was the Observer's Ball at Green-Templeton College, which the Young Dutchman had invited me to come up and attend.  Given that I'd missed the last ball he invited me to, I promised to come to this one, and even made arrangements to stay overnight.  I figured I would do my hair at home, and then head up at around 3 PM.

My plans got a bit waylaid however, when the Tall South African called me, wanting to chat.  I was a bit surprised, as he was in Canterbury, hanging out with all of his college friends.  And after staying up drinking with them until 4 AM, he'd woken up early to work, and then decided to call me.  He's always fun to talk to when he's decided to call me (as he's in the mood for it), so I had a good time laughing on the phone with him for a while.  I was surprised though when I hung up the phone and realised we'd been talking for over an hour!

I still can't quite figure out how I feel about that.  After all, it's becoming hideously frequent, where boys like the Tall South African and the Young Dutchman call me all the time, obviously enjoying my quick wit and the pleasure of my conversation, and it's somewhat flattering when you realise they can have any girl, but I'm the only one they have a lasting connection with, who they come back to time and time again.  On the other hand, I've had enough of men liking me for my mind and my wit, how about some liking me for my looks?

Anyway, I finally did get on the bus, having the good fortune for once to arrive at the bus stop right as the bus pulled up.  Made the journey, totally engrossed in the final "Hunger Games" book, and got to Oxford, got some cash, and hopped a cab to Wolfson.  Checked into my room, called the Young Dutchman, touched up my hair and make-up and walked over to his in shorts and a t-shirt.

Once at his, hung out chatting with him while he got dressed, picked his cologne (I chose the one that he described as "more grown-up"), and then changed into my own ballgown.  Called us a cab, and then went to the ball.

On the whole, it was everything balls are supposed to be, with delights around every corner.  When we arrived we were greeted with champagne and and endless supply of drinks, as well as circulating waiters with trays of canapes.  Inside there was a bar with a bartender who poured generous G&Ts, and there were trays with mountains of cheese everywhere.  In another room, there was a chocolate fountain, where I had fun sticking in doughnuts, strawberries, marshmallows, profiteroles, and many other delights.  Onto another tent, where there were tables piled high with brownies, custard tarts, ice cream, and other goodies.  There were grilled sausages, although I'm glad I didn't have too many, as later on out came the hog roast, complete with stuffing, applesauce and crackling.  There was another tent with burritos, and a van that made fresh crepes with nutella.  Elsewhere they were serving endless cocktails, from cosmos to elderflower mixes to lychee martinis.  They had bands playing in a few locations, which were fun to listen to, although I was more in awe of the students who obviously studied dance, and bopped along with extraordinary rhythm.

Watching the Fireworks

They set off a fireworks display at midnight which was amazing, as I truly love fireworks.  Even though it was over far too quickly, they also had entertainments (live bands, burlesque dancers, belly dancers, back massages, fortune tellers, karaoke, a casino, a games tent) all evening long.  I still think not quite on the level of Cambridge balls (Oxford balls never are), but still an incredibly good time.


The Young Dutchman always invites me to these sorts of events because he knows I can take care of myself, and I like to think that I did a good job of being sociable and making new friends, talking to lots of random strangers and being friendly to his entire crowd.  The boys were all good and put up no complaints when I would just grab an arm as I needed it, and I generally had a good time just wandering around the crowds.  And the Young Dutchman himself was actually rather good for once about looking out for me, always checking back in every so often to make sure my knee was fine and that I was doing okay. 

At around 2:30 AM, I was so tired, and Kellogg Boy had gone home (who I normally talk to when the Young Dutchman is off running around talking to girls), so I figured it was time for me to go as well.  No survivor's photo for me!  I went and found the Young Dutchman to say goodnight, and was surprised when he insisted on walking me out.  We of course got held up by running into quite a few people, and the Young Dutchman grabbed a pizza as a delivery girl walked by.  Now who could resist tucking into pizza right before bed?

He walked me out, they took my bracelet at the door, and he stayed with me until he could manage to hail a cab.  Put me in it, told the driver to take me home, and kissed me goodnight.  I was laughing as he left to go back into the party, thinking that at least he pays attention to me when he needs to!