Saturday, May 20, 1989

Liverpool wins the F.A. Cup ...

It was another beautiful day, and I really did little of any significant importance today. I got a letter from my friend Shannon back in Millersville, which was nice. So I took some time to write back to her and mailed that letter off.

This afternoon was spent watching the F.A. Cup final with Liverpool against Everton in a battle of the Mersey. It was an excellent game, with Liverpool in the lead 1-0 with three seconds left, when Everton tied up the score and sent it into extra time. The scoring really picked up from there, and when it was all said and done, Liverpool won 3-2. But wow! What a game! (Pictured is a post card I have of Liverpool celebrating a previous F.A. Cup victory in 1986.)

Everyone was caught up in the football mood now, so after dinner I joined a pick-up game outside, but I really sucked.

The Liverpool fans at The Grange, who a month ago were in tears watching the Hillsborough disaster unfold, were now jumping and screaming for joy... as one has come to expect from Scousers. They were dancing on top of the dining tables at dinner, and as I left the halls, Chris had climbed to the top of the light post next to the church outside, screaming and singing the praises of Liverpool.

He is quite devoted to his team.

That evening, I watched Charlie Chaplin's "The Great Dictator," which wasn't quite as good as many of his previous films, but still excellent... and uncanny how much he resembled Adolf Hitler. Others were playing a game of Pictionary, but I missed out in order to watch the rest of the film.

At the end I flipped through various other shows, but I was so knackered that I went to bed shortly after watching "Saturday Night at the Movies," where I learned that "License to Kill," which is coming out soon, will be Timothy Dalton's last time out as James Bond.)

Tuesday, October 4, 1988

Burning the Midnight Oil with the Guy Who Looks Like the Lead Singer of Midnight Oil

I woke up and went to class this morning. Not much exciting there. I spent the day just dogging around until around 6 p.m., when I went out for another run on my own to visit Karin. She wasn’t at her flat, but I left a note for her to stop in later. All-in-all, I ran five miles today, and felt pretty good afterward. Maybe I’ll be able to stick with this.

Later on, at about 9 p.m., a girl named Vicki and an friend of hers stopped by my room. I had met Vicki earlier in the day, and she told me she has no place to stay at the moment. I told her I’d talk to Karin and see if she possibly had an extra room in her flat. However, since Karin was not in when I visited, I had no news for them, so alas, they were out of luck. I offered to let them stay in my room until they found something. They then left to look at another place (located on Karin’s street.) I haven’t seen them since, so hopefully they did OK.

Well, it wasn’t 10 minutes after they left when Karin stopped into my room, and we sat and talked over coffee until about 1 a.m. After our excellent conversation, she left to return to her flat, and I went up to the community phone to attempt to call Mom and Dad again. After two attempts, I got through… but once again Dad wasn’t home. I talked to Mom for about 10 minutes, and we determined that on Sunday at 11 p.m. (GMT, or 6 p.m. EST) she would call me at the residence phone. (So don’t forget!) Hopefully the phone will be available at that time.

After our phone call, I started talking to Steve, who is the “resident assistant” for St. Martin’s Hall (the main entrance to St. Martin's is pictured above). Friendly fellow… tall, bald… he looks a lot like the lead singer of Midnight Oil. He has a habit of starting sentences and greeting you with “OK…” He’s from Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, a few hours north of Hull, and though that’s not too far away, the difference in his accent verses the local accent here is staggering. I’ll admit, it was difficult to understand a lot of what he said. Still we sat in his room and talked over tea until about 3:30 a.m. He is big into history (especially war), and appropriately enough, accents. When we were finished talking, I was good and knackered, so it was off to bed.