The lyf so short

[backstory]:
When I was done with writing Christmas cards, in the end I was left with some additional print-outs I hadn't needed. And, kind of on the spur of the moment, I decided to send one of the gratuitious Sir Gawain cards to Colin (the Cambridge professor who, by some strange but merciful fate, teaches Medieval English Literature in Cologne each May). Because I hadn't sent my essay (on, as these things happen, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight) because that never actually reached more than its sixth page and then there was the house and no time and Japan and - anyway, I didn't actually finish that essay, okay? There.
So I thought, hey, send him a Christmas card and apologise. He's a nice guy, he'll understand, and the card will probably amuse him. So after some research in unlikely places (because I'd forgotten which college he actually belongs to: thank Someone for the Riverside Chaucer, which lists its contributors, among them one certain C.W., Pembroke College) I, you know, sent that card.
[/backstory]

Today I came home from the school outing to Tôkyô Tower and find - a letter.
With the Queen's profile on the stamp.
So I think "Huh, who in the UK would want to write me now?" and turn the envelope around and---
OMG. Pembroke College. He sent a card in reply.
That was... kind of unexpected.
It's a really nice card though and a nice message (because he's a nice guy and he understood and the card amused him), so I've been grinning like an idiot for the past two hours. But...
*blush*

I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised, but I am. And kind of embarrassed, too. Ngh.
And kind of "awww!"'d, too.