Rundown

In the third eighth of my insti life that has hardly concluded, I got my first single room with two chairs, a table, a cot, a wardrobe, DC++ and free broadband included in the package, watched myriads of movies and clips and attuned my ears to new strains of music, swam some evenings away in the blue, played Scrabble against humans for the first time, started a blog, was hospitalized for a fortnight owing to an attack of varicella zoster virus that gifts you with chicken pox, read The Lost World (by Doyle), Othello, Julius Caesar, The Tempest (by the Bard) and Doctors (by Segal) to sate my fictional diet, wrote a sci-fi tale, an abandoned adult-content story (my first venture in the discipline) and a yet-to-complete sci-fi play, scrapped my orkut account (yups... pun highly intended), changed my messing from the finest to the sorriest caterers, pocketed a thousand bucks -- non-taxable -- by solving crossword grids during Shaastra '06, got brilliantly blasted by a professor for fooling around with his daughter, lost her, got the blasted friendship of my class rep in whom I found a proper, more or less ideal buddy, got a 'dear friend', opened another blog (it's facing you), got the professor's girl back onto the stage, timetabled preparations for the final exams with the class rep and fairly stuck to the docket, broke my front left fake tooth, mopped up the fourth season of the Blackadder series (titled Blackadder Goes Forth) besides four Blackadder specials, lost my blooming moustache in a shaving accident, won over my mild kleptomania (pinched nothing whatsoever from anywhere this semester, on my honour), and wrote no letters.