Honeymoon period? There wasn't one

All I bloody hear is the clock ticking. We all know what that sounds like, and we all know what the stabbing sounds of each second, ‘tick’ or ‘tock’, means. Time is slipping away, and there’s just about nothing we can do to stop it (short from building a DeLorean and taking a joyride with Marty McFly).

A third of my time as Editor has meandered by and well, the realisation has upset me. When the first issue of the year came out, I was happily wearing a wife-beater outside and complaining to the Union that the air conditioning down in the felix office was on the blink. This week I wore five different layers to keep warm, and now I’m complaining that the heating’s on the blink. Winter makes me moody, and since I’m unduly missing even more daylight (well, technically not because there’s actually less of it in winter months, but we’ll let that slip), I have every reason to be.

Don’t fret though, everything in between those wife-beater-wearing days and now have been wonderful. We’ve released and published 11 issues, each of which struck a new chord of delight in my brain, and hopefully yours too. I’ve managed to turn unwelcoming panic, circa. early October, into a stressful confidence that allows the paper to go to print on time each week.

Aside from a Fresher being mugged straight after the Mingle (the poor little thing), our first big story was that the Faculty Unions had lost an unfunny ball-sack load of money on their formal first term events. On the backdrop of this, we exposed the first cracks in the City and Guilds College Union; internal squabbling ensued in public, and even more so in private I’d assume.

Their committee got themselves into a bit of a jumble, and a united front was the last thing anyone saw. Even in Council meetings, their senior committee members were arguing with each other across the room. I tried to stifle my bad case of I-told-you-so coughs, but I just couldn’t.

With the news this week that their President, Kirsty Patterson, is stepping down at the end of term due to academic and registration reasons, it is safe to say there is relief within the Guilds camp. Not explicitly because she is leaving, but because of the fiascos that her time in office has seen. A new leader is on the horizon, and my bets are on Rikki Norris. He’s settled nicely in the Union this term, and I feel he’ll jump at the chance to put Kirsty’s debatable wrongs right.

However, as a proud Scientist, I am glad to see the return of mascotry, even if it did involve the solid blame laid upon me for losing about a third of Theta, the Royal College of Science’s 86kg metal mascot.

Talking of exiting leaders, Sir Roy Anderson, The Rector, announcing his resignation really sent the office into overdrive. The sudden announcement and surrounding hearsay gave the impression there was something more than what the College and Sir Roy presented to us. Something is certainly rotten in the state of Imperial College.

They may think we’re foolish enough to believe their reasons at face-value, but I believe that the staff and students deserve the full story. Hopefully, by the end of the year, we shall have exactly that. No promises though; College are understandably tight-lipped about the issue.

Onto less suspicious happenings; felix celebrated its 60th anniversary. The team compiled a special celebratory issue and special thanks must go to Carlos Karingal, our Layout Editor for producing the spectacular wrap that was a modified reproduction of the very first issue of felix. We also had a (rather drunken) dinner where we united thirteen past editors in the Union Dining Hall. Ex-felix Editor Pallab Ghosh entertained us with an after-dinner speech alongside ex-felix writer Simon Singh.

My three ‘holiday’ destinations are hardly exotic either, but you try cruising the Carribean on a salary you’ve effectively pumped entirely back behind the Union bar.