Here we are. The Notts Trent Centre for Broadcast and Journalism Class of 2008. Hopefuls, I should add. Whether I make it through to graduation day will depend on whether we start and end every day of school like we did today - at a pub.Wine flowed freely with lunch at The Orange Tree this afternoon, where we spent two hours numbing our minds despite engaging and excited conversation before heading back to campus for a introduction to the course along with an itinerary for the week...and the next twelve months.
This was abruptly sobering.
But the effect lasted only until we were dismissed. I reason that the only possible way to digest the pending workload was to collectively toast to it, then drink it down.
I gather much of what I learn this year - about writing, about the press, and about myself - will take place over a lager.
