In June, I was told by my university to expect a “welcome pack” in coming weeks. What was in this pack? Who knows. What you may not know, dear reader, is that “coming weeks” is code in the UK for three to four months.

Long story short, when I left on 6 September, my welcome packet hadn’t arrived. Sam got it in Vermont last week. I should have known things would be like this, but one likes to be the optimist, even when dealing with ancient bureaucratic institutions. In said packet was my registration letter. Sam scanned and sent a copy to me here so I’m able to go to registration this week.

In the States it is much the same: universities create a bureaucracy so impenetrable it becomes discouraging, if not downright depressing, for the humble and idealistic student (such as Self, the martyr) who is just trying to get registered for class. There are layers and hoops and all of it designed to make things as difficult as possible. On top of this, my bank in the states still does personal banking with an abacus, so the five international calls I have made to their customer service helpline has led to me wallowing in the corner of my shower, shivering and crying.

It’s a mess – but we Isherwoods know how to stiff upper lip these things. Our coal-black Welsh blood gives us a higher tolerance for foibles than the average stock. Instead of getting riled up on a bureaucrat, we usually take our frustrations out on those whom we love and who just so happen to be around. Jansport is not a happy backpack.

However, I am coping as best I can and soothing my clerical frustrations with countless cups of Cadburys drinking chocolate and old episodes of Friends. The British LOVE friends. When I was last a student in the UK, way back in the 90s in the days of poor personal hygiene and crappy alt. bands, way back then, the British LOVED friends. Now they love Friends in syndication – the same episodes from 1998. It’s like I never left. Ross and Rachel, Chandler and Monica, and Phoebe, don’t even get me started on her. What will they get up to next!

On the upside, when I get my ID card (Thursday – well, hopefully) I can go to the library, and more importantly, join the Research Club, an establishment similar to the Drones Club, only with brighter people as members and without all the roll throwing. Or at least I hope this is the case.

Remember – post your Scot of Distinction! Only four days left!

Pip pip,

Ian