Here on The Tab we love a good arse. 

The boys had their turn. You voted and you chose the winner. HARRY from Tit Hall had Adonian arsecheeks.

Now it’s the girls’ go. Who has the ravishing rear? Who’s got the best bum? It’s up to you.

Happy voting.

—————-

LEILA

Leila is a self-confessed frotteurist and loves nothing more than rubbing her bosoms on the smooth sand-blasted doors of Emmanuel College. “It’s the thrill of being caught that really gets me going” she says.

—————-

Bella has requested that her profile be removed.

 —————-

Elizabeth has asked the her profile be removed.

—————-

Meredith has asked the her profile be removed.

—————- 

LYNETTE

Every May Lynette attends the German Fetish Ball Weekend in Berlin. She describes her outfit as a “dark-elf dominatrix” and swears that she can make any man “snivel and cry like a pussy.”

—————-

There they are. Five lovely bums for your consideration. Use your vote wisely in our poll down below.

The approach of exams – er, this Tuesday actually, shitshitshit – has compelled me of late to stop loafing about like a sticky malt, and get some work done.

It turns out that I’m incapable of revising in the same place for long so have to migrate every few hours from workstation to workstation, books in bag, new iPad pointedly on arm just to check that everyone knows I’ve got one. (It’s called The Sword; you pronounce the ‘w’.)

Revision is like a date – half the battle is finding the right place to go. Mercifully Cambridge is writhing in good work-spots, so you can be fairly certain that at least a couple of them will suit you and your work needs. Here are some of the best.

Waterstones

Waterstones has a café on the second floor, as well a clique of armchairs and tables on the third. Notwithstanding the café’s deeply questionable colour palette, it’s a pretty cracking workstation if you like revising in a quiet, but not funereal, atmosphere. Avoid at weekends: lots of babies. 

Where the perfect work ambiance lies between babies and funerals…

The Law Faculty

If you are lacking in drive or need to be shamed by anonymous suits into buckling down, the Law Faculty might be for you. It looks, sounds and smells like money clamouring to be earned. The Wifi is zippy; speaking/breathing/smiling is frowned upon, desks are spacious.

Starbucks’ Basement

There are many disadvantages to working in Starbucks’ basement, not least that one tends to be tempted, having descended the stairs, to scan about for lurking inferi. That said, nocturnal workers might appreciate its muted lighting, plum furnishings and muffled acoustics.

The Wren Library

Only open to Trinity students – but if you can visit it, do, because it’s full of light and the architecture is fly. It smells pungently of cobwebbed tomes and marble; ideal for anyone gunning for a retro working experience.

Satisfy your craving for vaulted ceilings…

The UL

Not for the lily-livered. The UL is my panic place, only to be resorted to in moments of liquid fear. That said, its buttery is quite the socialite’s hub, so I hear, and it has extended Easter Term opening times – till 10pm on weekdays. Places at desks go like Presto pasties at closing time, so pitch up early or not at all.

Nature

If you have words to learn, tenses to dominate, formulae to tackle or anything that requires out-and-out memorisation, taking to the fields and parks around Cambridge could be for you. There are some splendid trees drooping over the Cam up Grantchester way that are begging to be lolled on with a book. It’s also good for the soul.

Nord

This is a new Scandinavian shop that’s recently opened by Magdalene Bridge that has a miniscule coffee shop at the back. The opening times are quite restrictive – it shuts at 5 – but the cakes are extremely good, and it’s very quiet and clean.

Community library

Rather surprisingly, the Grand Arcade has a library, located on the second floor by Topshop. It has limited spaces at the weekend (arrive at least ten minutes before opening times) but is great for anyone thirsting for a primary school atmosphere, plasticized books and solicitous helpers. Distractions include a tramp who comes in daily, with or without shoes, to sleep or be told off for sleeping.

Put the ‘primary school back’ into your scholaring… 

One’s own room

Although one’s own room tends to be full of one’s own stuff, that one therefore like to mess around with, working at basecamp can be productive and time-efficient. No awkward laptop-to-library lug, no earnest work-denial chitchat with fellow workaholics, no potentially rain-splattered bike rides. Ban yourself from unparking from your chair for two-hour blocks at a time, to avoid the lure of your bed.

UPDATE

The Union’s online ticketing system crashed today due to unprecedented demand. The tickets go on sale tomorrow in the Union Office from 2pm. Bring your Union card and arrive early – they’re expected to sell out fast.

____________________

If there is one way to alleviate Easter-term tedium it’s planning May Week. Forget the e-word, give revision the two-fingers, and start focusing on the important stuff. If your Suicide Sunday isn’t booked up from dawn till dusk, you better get a move on because tickets are selling fast. But never fear, The Tab is on hand to ensure you don’t spend a minute of that glorious day sober…

____________________

TIT HALL CRESCENTS 

Time: 9am – 12pm

Place: Fellows’ Garden, Tit Hall

Tickets: £12. SOLD OUT but join the waiting list by emailing The Crescents at gp.2012@gmail.co.uk.

Best for: entertaining initiations, early starters and dubious coloured (and tasting) cocktails.

2011 Crescent Initiations 

____________________

MARGUERITES 

Time: 12pm – 2pm

Place: Christ’s Fellows’ Garden

Tickets: to be announced nearer the time. Watch out for updates on their event page, here.

Best for: relaxing in beautiful grounds with a classy cocktail.

____________________

WYVERNS 

Time: 11am – 2pm

Place: Undisclosed location

Tickets: £17 (gold wristband – entry to Life and Cindies) or £12 standard. Tickets from their website, here. 

Best for: infamous jelly wrestling, bikinis and shades. A chance to escape Cambridge and, rumour has it, to take part in some record breaking…

____________________

IDLERS 

Time: 12.15pm – 3pm

Place: Ivy Court, Pembroke

Tickets: £13. SOLD OUT but join the waiting list here.

Best for: for those who prefer the smooth and sophisticated. An opportunity to take a breather from jelly-wrestling.

____________________

SQUIRES 

Time: TBC

Place: TBC (it was at Cambridge Rugby Club last year)

Tickets: Sold out.

Best for: societies. This party is not for the casual individual – mainly because only the select got tickets in the first place.

____________________

TRINITY HALL GARDEN PARTY

Time: 1pm – 5pm

Place: Latham Lawn, Trinity Hall

Tickets: £15. Last call for tickets email thgardenparty2012@gmail.com

Best for: lounging by the river and drifting off to jazz.

____________________

MURRAY EDWARDS’ GARDEN PARTY 

Time: 4pm-9pm

Place: Murray Edwards’ grounds

Tickets: £25 by cheque. SOLD OUT. Details available here.

Best for: atmosphere. This event is themed, this year being a Midsummer Night’s Dream, making it closer to a June Event than a garden party. The extra cost is worth it.

____________________

DOWNING TRIBAL 

Time: 7pm – 10pm

Place: The Paddock, Downing College

Tickets: £22. Apply for tickets here.

Best for: boaties, blazers and Pimms (by the barrel load). Fight the evening hangover with more booze and a sneaky rumba before hitting Life/Fez.

Pimms O’clock

____________________

And if Garden Parties aren’t your thing…

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY CARDBOARD BOAT RACE 

Time: 2pm – 5pm

Place: The Cam

Tickets:Free to watch. To enter, join the group here.

Best for: laughing at fools.

____________________

You can also get started a day early with:

THE UNION GARDEN PARTY

Time: 11am – 5pm

Place: Sidney Sussex Gardens

Tickets: On sale in the Union Office from Friday 18th May at 2pm.

Best for: pretending you’re at a May Ball. Oysters, champagne, cocktails and jazz all add to the sense of gentle sophistication.

____________________

So Cambridge, keep your eyes on the prize as we plough on into third week. In five weeks and a day it will be Suicide Sunday – the Pimms will be flowing and the sun will be out (hopefully).

The Why We Broke Up Project, created by Daniel Handler, (better known to us as Lemony Snicket) to accompany his new book of the same name is a space for anyone and everyone to explain, anonymously, why it all went tits up.

From mother’s birthday parties to silver lamé bikinis (there’s a great selection on the Guardian here), and from heartfelt to deeply cutting – they are varied and totally compelling.

I wondered if at Cambridge the answers would be any different, have a certain flavour perhaps. And so I asked: why did you break up? And here’s what you told me:

 ____________________

Your first came first, your feelings for your ex-girlfriend second, the fact that I had fallen for you really, really hard, didn’t even get a look in.

We broke up because you put your work schedule before me.

You were charming, erudite, gorgeous, caring, my parents loved you, but the sex was… well, my friends refer to you as ‘30-second-Sam’.

We broke up because you joked that you’d send your mother with me to buy your engagement ring to make sure it was expensive enough. It wasn’t funny.

You were at LSE, I was here, my work load made seeing each other difficult, and since we were both in first year, that wasn’t going to change any time soon. I guess you were the one that got away, but you have a new girlfriend, who is not just lovely but beautiful (I take that as a personal compliment!) and you and I are friends, so I guess I’m happy for you.

You were not a Cantab. This wasn’t the problem. The problem was you didn’t really grasp the concept of cliché. It was excruciating.

It was too difficult keeping it a secret and I wasn’t willing to share what was going on with the rest of college.

I couldn’t fix you.

You were a bit chubs, and I don’t do fatties.

We worked better as friends. I found you attractive when we talked but not when we kissed and I’m pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

We broke up because I thought I’d found someone better. I was wrong. I’ll always be sorry.

We broke up because it turned out you had simply memorised three interesting topics of conversation.

We were just sleeping together, and you found a nice girl who took you seriously. Good for you.

We broke up because you got with someone in front of me in Life.

We broke up because I was going to Cambridge, and you were going to Oxford. Given that on our ensuing gap years I went backpacking, and your Daddy paid for you to go skiing, I think the distance was more philosophical than geographical.

We broke up because you slept with your flatmate.

We broke up because you told me you didn’t believe in marrying for love and in today’s world marrying for money was the only realistic option.

I compromised who I was for you – I loved you too much and you didn’t deserve it.

We broke up because you told me that your mother “worked hard for her money” so didn’t deserve to be paying the amount of tax that she did.

We broke up because I couldn’t go for five minutes without receiving countless texts and missed calls asking if I was with other girls.

We broke up because you loved your mother more than me.

The sex just didn’t work. We got on well, albeit drunkenly. In hindsight, this was probably the issue.

We broke up because I was waiting for hidden depth. Then I realised you were just as empty as the first 7 months suggested. So I stopped waiting.

You look too much like a child. You’re a lovely boy, you just look like you’re 12 years old.

We broke up because of so many reasons. Too many to list.

We broke up because you were a bit too… how can I put this… racist?

 ____________________

Feeling inspired? Share your break-up reasons in the comment box below.

I’ve heard people (lazy people) say that the key to exam term is getting enough sleep. They are wrong. The key to exam term is stimulants, five times a day.

We at The Tab have had our writers put their health at risk and sample a whole smorgasbord of energy drinks for your benefit. Regrettably we couldn’t find any ‘Powerthirst‘ but we did manage to dredge up some pretty gnarly stuff.

__________________

Blue Bolt by Sainsbury’s – Nick Sinclair

Cost: 50p a can

Rating: 3/10

Bouquet: The poor man’s red bull, you would be ill advised to have a go at sniffing blue bolt. I can only describe the smell as ‘morning after sleeping bag’ when you’ve been at the vodka Red Bulls the night before and have been sweating concentrated taurine through the night.

Body:  In the cold light of day Blue Bolt looks like your urine on the third day of Reading fest: heavily dehydrated and stale. It doesn’t really taste of anything; perhaps there’s a hint of sherbet or a giant urinal mint, but mostly it’s just sugar.

Effect: With 27.3 g of sugar all I wanted to do was brush my teeth immediately after drinking the stuff, before my mouth became a bloody mess of corroded stumps.

____________________

Relentless (Apple and Kiwi Flavour) – Laura Grayling 

Cost: a 500ml can costs  £1 on the current Sainsburys’ deal.

Rating: 6/10

Bouquet: My first thought was chemistry experiment on grounds of the overpowering scent of chemicals. It resembles a cleaning product rather than a beverage.

Body: Here lies its redeeming feature – that is if you’ve ever craved a pulverised pick and mix. Think skittles and sour laces rolled in into one tantalising turquoise can. It would appeal to anyone whose taste buds haven’t left the playground.

Effect: Slightly elevated heart beat and the feeling you (hopefully) haven’t experienced since the age of 12 of having utterly gorged yourself on sugar. Relentless is a sweet shop in canned form, so my first instinct was to regress back into childhood and build a fort. This may not be productive for revision.

____________________

Pussy – Harry Shukman

Rating: 3/10

Cost:£1.30

Bouquet: Imagine the smell of heavily-cleaned institution toilets and you’re close.

Body: The makers have muffed the taste. The milk thistle, schizandra and siberian ginseng combine for a clammy taste and a follow-up kick of fruits de mer.

Effect: Pussy is marketed as a 100% natural energy drink with interesting herbs and stimulating taste. I drank a few Pussies in the library like the smug bastard that I am. I didn’t notice much effect other than a smelly aftertaste. The Tab received a free sample of Pussy, but I definitely wouldn’t pay for it. Don’t judge books by their covers or Pussies by their cans.

____________________

Monster – Poppy Damon

Rating: 7/10

Cost: £1.39

Body: A full bodied citrus experience, which leaves a distinctly medicinal aftertaste.

Bouquet: Inhaling the delectable syrup through my nose was much like clearing the nostrils with a very strong kitchen cleaner: strangely refreshing if not potentially fatal.

Effect: After checking out its website boasting 90s images of skaters and personalities such as ‘Wee man’, I was not expecting great things. But this drink is not monstrously overpriced and is surprisingly delicious. I certainly wasn’t doing any ‘Ollies’ or ‘sweet jumps’ on my inline skates whilst wearing a Blink182 T-shirt, as the website would suggest, but I was probably more awake than I was before I had consumed the juicy nectar.

____________________

OKF Alcohol Doctor Hangover Tea, Alcohol Solution Drink 86 System Natural – Tom Bateman

Cost: £1.18

Rating: 3/10 (to recognise the audacity of making an onion-flavoured drink)

Bouquet: Journeying to the Korean shop on Mill Road, I discovered ‘Alcohol Doctor’, an incredible drink from the Orient that promises to combat the effects of over-indulgence by harnessing the awesome power of ’18 kinds fruits and vegetable’. When it transpired that the vegetable was onion, I knew I had to try it. The aroma that greeted me upon opening the can was one of mixed appeal. While I accept that for some the combination of Red Bull and compost will excite the senses, all it did for me was trigger my gag reflex, and not in a good way.

Body:   Unfortunately it just looked and tasted like a glass of muddy piss.

Effect: I can’t say I felt particularly energised after drinking my can of ‘Alcohol Doctor’. Maybe it was my fault, I probably ought to have been drunk for it to work as advertised. Perhaps I simply never got over the small print on the can that said ‘Oral Toxicity Analysis Certified’.

Hopefully our brave testers have informed your decision on which energy drink you want to have diffusing from your pores for the next month. Now, pick up a multipack and hunker down. Exams are coming.

Hi. My name’s Thomas. Choosing the right universities to apply to was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do, apart from maybe teaching my younger brother, Ian, to ride a bike. He is such a douchebag.

Anyway, after emailing several universities, I decided Queen Mary, as the only university in East London to be named after a person, was definitely the place for me, and I managed to secure myself a place for 2010 entry! However, unsuccessful surgery meant I would need to try and defer entry to half way through the year…

(The following are genuine exchanges.)

—————————-

Dear Queen Mary University Admissions,

Hi. My name’s Thomas and I am going to be a new student at Queen Mary this year.

Since attending my neighbour (Lucy)’s Mythical Creature-themed 6th birthday party, I have been a complete unicorn fanatic. I live, speak, and love unicorns. In year 11 I went to a unicorn convention in Nebraska where I met many other like-minded people and perfected my unicorn impression. I really want to be just like a unicorn. So much, in fact, that I decided to get a unicorn horn surgically implanted onto my head.

I wanted to get it done before starting university, as I really wanted to make a good impression to my classmates, so I went to L.A. this summer to see Dr. Zahana (the best plastic surgeon I could afford), who promised to safely attach a unicorn horn to my head and that it would heal in time for university. However, Dr Zahana lied. It did not heal at all. It has become so swollen that you can barely see my face, and I look even less like a unicorn than I did before the surgery!!!

I do not want to show my face at Queen Mary until my unicorn horn looks realistic, so would it be ok if I miss the first couple of months and arrive in November or December? I’ll try and catch up on my course etc…

Indeed!

Thomas x

—————————-

Dear Thomas

We are very sorry to read of the complications to you surgery, and completely understand your desire to delay your arrival at the University. However, we are unable to offer you such a late point of entry. Instead, we could try to establish a deferral until September 2011. Please let me know if you are interested in a deferring your place. I will also need your application number in order to arrange this for you.

Kind regards,

Queen Mary

—————————-

Dear (your majesty) Queen Mary,

Many thanks for your quick reply – a lot quicker than the recovery of my unicorn horn. I am upset to hear that it would not be possible to arrive late, and I feel that September 2011 would be a bit too late to come. I do think the swelling is gradually easing and I think it shouldn’t take too too long to recover. Every day I feel more and more like the inner unicorn I am. Therefore, do you think it would be possible to defer to a 2010.5 entry? That is, half way through the year.

Many thanks, your majesty, and I look forward to reading another email written by yourself.

All together,

Thomas x

—————————-

Good morning Thomas

I hope your face is feeling better and better as the days go by.

Despite your palpable request for late enrolment, we cannot offer you a mid-academic entry point. I am very sorry to bring you this disappointing news. You might find it interesting to know that the University’s final day for enrolment this year is October 22nd, so if your horn/face has recovered sufficiently by then, you should let me know and I will begin preparations for your arrival. Otherwise, the option to defer could still be open to you.

Kind regards,

QM

—————————-

Unfortunately, my face/horn did not recover in time, so my search for the perfect university continued…

Check back next week to see how Thomas fared in his quest for knowledge.

Saturday, 5pm, University Library. Suddenly you find yourself alone. Alone and locked in. ‘Sh*t, f*ck wank, bollocks’ you may think if caught in such a situation. But not Freya Evison.

One rainy Saturday afternoon, Freya found herself in this nightmare (and retrospectively humorous) situation.  Did she cry for her mother? Did she run around the stacks screaming SOS?

No, she  handled the situation with dignified grace and logic, and here she tells us her story.

Freya’s experience was a surreal enlightenment on patience and panic control, “I felt like a book-ish Bear Grylls” she informs us, and considers herself one of a handful of UL “born survivors”.

Immediately she phoned a friend (what she would have done with no phone she knows not and nor do we), who in turn got onto negotiating the terms of Freya’s release with the UL’s reception.

She remained cool, calm and collected and banged steadily on the door. Sometime later, to Freya’s surprise, the door was unlocked by one very angry cleaner who felt the fault of the traumatic lock-in should fall to the traumatized  historian.

And what she would like to say in response to this treatment? “I probably couldn’t blame him. I’m the last thing you’d want to find – I’d be a nightmare to put in lost property”.

Despite this man’s dubious judgment and patrol skills, Freya escaped unscathed living to tell this juicy tale.

Reconstruction 

And what happens if you find yourself in a similar predicament? Freya shared her recommendations on how to keep your sanity as you wait to be rescued…

 Create a comfortable nest of books, preferably the paperbacks, in which to cocoon oneself to while away the hours.

 Burn the books. Both culturally and intellectually blasphemous. But an experience all the same. Or a necessity in winter months.

 Be unnaturally nerdalicious and revise.

 If with a partner of your choice, have sex. It would be one tick off the must-dos. Ah-mazing.

 Find the UL’s copy of Karma Sutra and read up.

 Hit up the tea room and scavenge

 Read.

But above all, she advises  “not to call your so-called friends in your time of crisis. Their response will be something along the lines of’ ‘hahahahaha that is fucking hilarious’, telling everyone you know but doing nothing to try and help you.”

And would she want to be locked in again? “Oh yeah – only if I was locked in the tea room though. Entertaining myself with tea and cake beats books.”

There will come a rainy, pathetic fallacy of a day when the immortal truth will reveal itself: Cambridge isn’t forever.

Last week we set the ball rolling with our first check-list of things to do before the day comes to drive past Girton one last time on your way out into the real world. In part two, we ask the Tab team what they’ll be squeezing in before the grand adieu.

Drink at the Grapes – Ben Dalton

Be it half a lager shandy, or a soda lemonade, The Grapes, the stout mistress that she be, will provide your throat with whatever slake it desires! Great toilets, great service, and a regular Robbie Williams impersonator; this is public house utopia. The Grapes is of rustic, Diagon Alley appeal, but you’re mor likely to leave with alcohol poisoning and an unexplained hernia than a 10 incher from Olivander’s. Play it loud and proud here, yodle as violently as you can, and pull your skirt and petticoats far, far above your head.

Loving Angels 

Go to a feast – Katie Kibbler

At the end of last May Week, I was invited to our College’s annual Benefactor’s Feast, held to thank the alumnae for keeping us afloat, and to ply them with enough wine and pigeon so as to guarantee a place in their wills. After the awkward champagne reception, seven courses and the four types of accompanying wine, I was feeling quite benevolent myself, and would have willingly promised my own ova to Dame Rosemary Murray. The night ended with me being double parked with port in one hand and whiskey in the other, swapping rude jokes with the company director of Lil-Lets.

Hire a punt for John’s fireworks – Hettie Kelly

If you only manage to do one thing on this list, make it this. Sleeping with a supervisor might be sensational and mounting the Jesus Horse liberating, but this experience tops them all (and won’t get you sent down). For one night only the river is transformed: every square inch packed full of punts, and every punt packed full of revellers. Transform the boat into a party/love nest with duvets, snacks and booze. Then enjoy one of the best views of May Week, for a fraction of the price. I’m not sure it isn’t more fun than going to the actual ball…

Cambridge’s answer to Venice 

Sober Cindies – Tom Rasmussen

Lost your shoes? Your friends? Your mind? If you answered “Yes” to any of these questions then it’s time to make a change. Doing it sober (and I mean through choice, not antibiotic taking/”I’m competing in Varsity falconry”  next week sober) is guaranteed to give you one of the most surreal experiences of your life. Think Dali… on LSD… at Klubnacht… on New Year’s Eve. Do it! To reclaim your shoes, friends or mind, call 0800-WHO-WAS-SICK-ON-MY-BACK.

Break into Shit – Evie Prichard

What’s a Cambridge education without a sense of god-given entitlement? Be sure to utilise it while you’re here by striding into completely random events and knocking back as much free booze as you can. We’ve all heard, and perhaps enacted, the epic stories of pirate costumes at white tie balls and midnight swims across the Cam in dry-suits, but there’s no need to set your sights that high. Summer is full of champagne receptions and garden parties cropping up at the most unexpected of times. Gentlemen, keep a bowtie in your back pocket. Ladies, wear a floor-length gown in the library. Opportunity is all around you – don’t fail to exploit it.

King’s Affair: out on the crash

Date at Grad cafe – Anna Sheinman

My date in the Grad Café was unutterably dire. I knew I hadn’t found The One when I joked about the crap view and my date looked confused and said he didn’t really find sarcasm funny. Awkward. I stayed for an hour to be polite, this was a good move. Long glass windows open onto Mill Pond, and, in the fading afternoon light, the water sparkles like the moat in my favourite Polly Pocket Princess Castle. The weeping willows drip into the river and glow a mad orange as the sun sinks, and if you’re lucky, as the punts come back into dock, someone will crash.

Sex in the UL – Anon

When it comes to shagging among the stacks, the bigger and more densely populated the library, the better. The UL presents the perfect midday challenge. First, I found myself a stranger, on the assumption that we’d never have to see each other again. Except we live in Cambridge. So I see him every Thursday in Life.

After meeting at the top of the main staircase, took a lift down to the basement, praying it would be a while before the lift got recalled. Thankfully, all went to plan, and when it all ended we were just two people using a lift, feeling a little bit smug and a little bit embarrassed.

________________________

So get off your fat botty, and act like you’re happy to be here. There’s more to Cambridge than Fish ‘n’ Chips Friday at buttery. You know that, so do something about it. 

Ever noticed how some friends  retain a glimmer of hope even as exams set in? They just don’t seem to be inflicted with revision blues.

How do people achieve this mythical state? Quite possibly they’re just weird. But maybe they’ve found a new means to put spice back in Easter term life. Here they share their tips on how to keep things fresh.

———————————-

Hugh likes to turn revision on its head - literally. When the going gets tough and the books pile high, he flips over and reads upside down. While such an approach is not for the fainthearted, it certainly brings a new perspective to quadratic equations or the complete works of Shakespeare.

Pros: a rush of blood to the head which rivals any that ProPlus can provide.

Cons: not designed for the library. Or indeed, chairs.

Olivia opts for a more sensual approach. Revision need not only evoke the smell of strong coffee and dusty pages. Associating revision topics with a particular smell can act as a much needed memory trigger. Perfume, peanut butter, cherries, you name it - any scent can be associated with key information.

Pros: exploring different scents is constructive procrastination.

Cons: strange looks when you mutter ‘peanut butter’ in the exam.

Hannah’s revision is more Zen. She breaks up work with intensive sessions of chair yoga.  Admittedly Downward Dog and Warrior Two are tricky on a swivel chair, yet yoga has been proven to boost relaxation and increase the flow of oxygen around the body.

 Pros: multitasking at its best as it involves fitness and revision.

Cons: chair yoga is usually reserved for the aged and infirm.

Finally Jack, who prefers a more aggressive method. He psyches himself up pre-revision with boxing videos. What could be more exhilarating than watching oversized buffoons beating other oversized buffoons? You can take this intensive revision warm up even further by playing Chariots of Fire while you turn on your laptop or get your books out.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-7Vu7cqB20

Pros: with all that testosterone coursing through your veins, who knows what will happen with that sexy librarian.

Cons: you may become so overcome by your prowess that you might accidentally punch the librarian.

My personal favourite is post-it notes. I confess to having a post-it note fetish. These paper gems can take anything from the number of stars in the solar system to quotes from Kafka. Then simply stick them up around you. Kitchen cupboard – stick a post-it on it. Bin lid – post-it. Toilet seat – post-it. Flat mate’s face – post-it. You get the idea.

Pros: effortless revision, providing you’re literate. All you need to do is read and absorb.

Cons: your bedder’s panic when they open your door to find a sea of post-its swamping your belongings.

———————————-

So there you have it, Cambridge. When you’re revising at 2am for the fifth consecutive night, remember there are ways to put the fun, or at least the bizarre, back into revision.

Don’t settle for late nights in the library interspersed with discount energy drinks and the Facebook brain drain. Spice up your revision life by embracing eccentricity.

Any other tips to combat the boredom? Share your advice in the comment box below. 

I crossed the threshold of exam term feeling absurdly buoyant. Yeah, work! Yeah, a reduced social life! Bring it, gym trips and early-morning yoga!

I fully believed that getting back down with the books, after two terms of awkward relations, would be good fun, manna for both soul and intellect. Well, it hasn’t been.  Revision is dull; not seeing/having friends is depressing. I want my mother.

That said, there are ways of leavening the leaden vibe. One tactic to preserve exuberance is to treat your body well. Eating shrewdly enhances both general cheerfulness and intellectual performance, increasing the efficiency with which one can storm academic citadels.

To this end, I have spent many a lunch break experimenting with ‘superfoods’ – particularly nuts, fish, fruit and vegetables, renowned for their ability to boost brainpower. Even if you don’t feel instantly Einsteinian after a meal based on these kinds of ingredients, you will at least feel smug because they are sickeningly healthy.

Here are four recipes that are guaranteed to get you a starred first and a fellowship from your college. Maybe.

Green soup

I am aware that not everyone relishes the idea of picking nettles for their lunch; fortunately, this soup is just as good without them.

Fry one onion and two cloves of garlic in a pan with olive oil. Add two leeks, chopped up into rough pieces, and half a litre of chicken stock. Boil for a bit. Add three large handfuls of fresh spinach, or a Sainsbury’s bag full of freshly cut nettles (avoid ones that have flowered; the sting will go out of the nettles as soon as they have been boiled.)

Simmer for a bit, then add salt, pepper, cream and curry powder to taste. Blend.

Fail-safe fish sauce

The key to doing fish well is the sauce. This is very versatile and will go particularly dazzlingly with salmon, cod and prawns.

Combine ½ a cup of vinegar (rice, apple cider or white wine ideally), one tablespoon of honey, 4 cloves of garlic (chopped), ½ a teaspoon of chili powder and 1 tablespoon of fish sauce in a cup. Mix with a fork, and fry with fish.

Fig Jam

I know this is pretty niche, but fig jam is delicious, and one of the healthiest spreads around.

Chop up about twelve large figs into coins, about 1cm thick. Transfer to a large pan. Add the juice and rind of one lemon, and one cup of granulated sugar. Allow to soak for two hours. Then heat for one hour or so on a hob, stirring frequently, until it looks like jam.

Nutty-fruity flapjacks

These are healthier than most flapjacks because of the heavy fruit and nut contingent. They are also made in the microwave; hooray, yippee, huzzah.

Melt 100g butter and 50g caster sugar in the microwave, in a baking tray. Add 4 tablespoons of golden syrup or honey. Stir in 150g oats, and 50g bran flakes. Microwave for three minutes on full power. Then stir in a cup full of raisins and a cup full of mixed nuts. Microwave for another minute, then refrigerate.

There you have it – four foods to feed the brain. Superfoods are the way forward this term, they’re guilt-free and intellect-enhancing. So go on, ditch the Basics digestives and grab some Nutty-fruity flapjacks smeared in fig-jam.