Toothless in Oxford

I've just had another wisdom tooth out, the second in as many terms. At this rate I shall never get my thesis done. I should have started the antibiotics straight away but instead I thought I'd be responsible and see if the infection cleared up without their assistance. I'm now sitting with a thumping pain in my jaw listening to the sound of the city enjoying the last of the day's warmth with the light stretching out every last minute. I was supposed to be out with my friends Oisin and Avril but have had to cancel. Sorry guys.
But summer must be here. I had to excavate the fan today, so that is a very good sign.

Listening to Schubert's complete Trios. They are so...perfect. Always measured, never ambitious, but always succeeding to do far more than you expect.

My friend Sebs has given me a terrible time over saying I liked Farinelli and I'm going to bow to pressure and remove it. It has been a long time since I saw that film and to be honest I now only really remember the soundtrack. That is amazing because the whole thing is a digital blend of two voices, a soprano and a counter-tenor, and it sounds good. Maybe sometime soon I'll see it again and reconsider. Anyway, he's a snob in all the right ways so I don't feel bad about it. He has rightly chastized me over missing the Caravaggio exhibition in London. It was just so bloody awkward to get tickets, but I'm kicking myself. Literally. Velásquez is on my list and will not be missed.

I'm half way through Ian McEwan's Saturday, but I haven't been able to finish it because I gave it away. My friend Myra coveted it in Kalamazoo and I just couldn't say no (as Dorothy Parker might say).

I'm rambling. It's the pain and drugs. I'll go.
Peace and Love my friends.