Londontown!

 I'm back, I'm alive, I'm safe. Yay.

Yesterday was interesting, to say the least. My flight was scheduled for a 12:45 departure. I figured that arriving around 9:30 would get me plenty of time to get through security and grab a meal before the boarding, which was supposed to start at 11:45.

Already, you should be able to sense that there were some problems.

I had everything all packed, and I woke up at 7AM to finish the last of it - things that I needed at the last minute, such as a hairbrush. By 8:30, I was walking out the door and calling for a cab. It takes about an hour to get from the Chelsea area to Heathrow, or so I thought.

Of course, the cab service was all busy, and they were sorry, try again later. I went back inside and asked at teh front desk if IES knew any other cab companies. They gave me a number, and upon calling it, the dispatcher sent over a nice man from Uganda named David. He wasn't a cabbie, but a private hire driver. By this point, I was half an hour late.

David got me to Heathrow in half an hour, without driving recklessly. I was impressed. He also charged half of what the cab fare was - 25 pounds instead of the 50 I had budgeted. Yay!

Once at Heathrow, I had to check in. Of course, my bags were overweight. I wasn't surprised. However, I had to take the bags from the Air India desk to the customer service to pay for overweight baggage (another 25 pounds), and then back to the Air India desk. Finally, though, I had dropped off my heavy bags and was ready to find my gate.

I had forgotten to leave motion sickness medicine out, though, so I figured I'd be able to buy some at the airport pharmacy. I could buy just about everything else in the whole world at Heathrow airport, but not motion sickness medicine. This seems rather counter-intuitive to me, but oh well. I figured I'd be able to tough it out. Flights tend to be smooth, anyway, aside from a bit of turbulence here and there.

The gate was supposed to be announced at 11:20. It wasn't announced until 12:15. At that point, I hurried to the gate, only to find that they wouldn't let us in. They didn't open the doors until 12:25, at which point we learned that the passengers from the flight before hadn't even gotten off the plane. The airplane crew was sitting around the gate waiting as well.

At 1:120, they made the call for all first and executive class passengers to board. I had dragged out my laptop and was playing Discworld (Rincewind voiced by Eric Idle), and so I shut it down. No sooner had I zipped up my bag again then did they make the announcement, "All right, everyone else can board now."

The plane was a 747. There were about fifty people on board... counting the crew, I believe. Maybe up to 60.

I had been given a window seat right in front of the door. All that leg room! However, the stewardess told me that the armrests on those chairs didn't flip up, so if I'd like, I could move a row back. Both the row I was in and the one behind me were completely empty.

Why were flipping-up armrests important, you ask? For a simple reason. There were so few people that everyone got a row to themselves, if they wanted. Flip up the armrests, use all the little back pillows and spare blankets to make a pillow, pull a third pillow over your legs - flat bed in economy class!

This flight was wonderful. The seats were all very comfortable, with adjustable headrests (so if you wanted to sleep sitting upright, you could have something to lean your head against), and computer screens in the back of every chair. There were also handsets, so you could play video games. I totally kicked the computer's butt at Mancala about fifty times (but it beat me in that dots and lines game where you try to make squares). I also watched Cirque du Soleil and 8 Simple Rules for Dating my Teenage Daughter.

I did take a lying-down nap for a couple hours, but my attempts to wear myself out earlier had completely backfired, and I wasn't really that tired. Sigh.

The nice thing about such a big plane and little people, aside from the space, was the food. They had so much extra food that they were giving us seconds and thirds of everything except the full meals. Before we had even started taxiing for take-off, we had all been given two things of orange juice.

After landing, due to my seat position, I was the first one off, first one through immigration, and first one waiting for my bags.

I was also one of the last ones to get my bags. Over an hour of waiting. Sigh.

Then it was time to go through customs. There were two lines - A and B. A had twenty people. B had one. I went to B. It was a little further away, but not really (next carosal over, instead of immediately at Air India's).

My parents had said in advance that they'd be waiting right outside customs. I go out... and nobody. I go all the way outside, figure they'd been there a couple hours and wouldn't be waiting outside, they were too smart for that, so I went back in. I started wandering down in the A direction, and ran into my dad. Apparently, someone told them that I'd come out through exit A, so they were waiting there. Oh well. ^_^

We went out to Olive Garden, where we met up with Emily, and then we came home and I went to bed. I woke up at 6 AM (11 AM, England time), sorted through my luggage, and then came upstairs and had lunch. Breakfast. First meal of the day.

And now I'm writing this to you. I think I'm done now. Am I glad to be home? Meh. I'd like to go back. It does look more like Christmas here, though, with the snow and the Christmas tree. 

Merry Christmas, everyone, and thanks for reading!

Well, it’s here. I wanted to put this off as long as I could, but alas, I have run out of time. My return to America is imminent. I fly out at noon (cross your fingers) on Tuesday, to arrive in O’Hare around 3 PM.

 

I actually decided to not procrastinate for once and to begin packing a week early. This was largely because I needed to figure out how much stuff I have that I can’t carry with me. I did learn that shipping is insanely expensive - $300 for one 20 kilo box.

 

Hopefully, I’ll have no boxes to ship. It looks like I’ll have room for everything, which is very good. I’m quite proud of my ability to squeeze things into small spaces (no comment, James!).

 

Currently, I’m sitting in Sarum College, Saturday night, writing this in Microsoft Word (they don’t have internet access). I’m staying in Salisbury this weekend, and going to be going to a cathedral service (or two) tomorrow (if I wake up in time – I did set my alarm already!). Today was a market day, and I finished my Christmas shopping. I love the Salisbury market. No where else can I get a slab of Brie for 50p right next to a copy of Dirk Gentry. The only downside is that I lost my left glove. It was a nice leather glove, new the day I left. I knew I was going to lose it. I always lose my left glove. On Saturday, though, I was crowing to myself over how I managed to get through England without losing it, and on Sunday morning, guess what I didn’t have. Sigh. I did look for it, with no luck. Oh well.

 

Good thing I brought an extra pair.

 

The past few months, I have both been busy and been not-busy. I have been neglecting this journal, as some of you may have noticed, but some of you may not have, because most of you’ve been neglecting it too (is it really that hard to say ‘hi’ once in three months?). Big hugs to Emily, my mom, and Aunt Joan and family for actually letting me know that people in America still remember who I am!

 

I realized the other day that I only had one rather old CD of Christmas music… and nothing else. That doesn’t lend itself to Christmas spirit, now does it? However, I also had a 10 quid gift card to Virgin Megastores (now Zavvi), and there was a Zavvi in Salisbury. Now I have 101 more Christmas songs, including some very good ones (the classics, sung by the classics: Dean Martin, Andy Williams, Nat ‘King’ Cole, Bing Crosby…), and some that are making me make funny faces as I listen to them (Hokey Cokey?).

 

Exams finished last week. I had two (Theatre in London and English Country House). I’m sure I did well on Country House, while Theatre of London… Well, it was two essay questions, and the teacher doesn’t think I write good essays.

 

I also went to a Christmas party with the British Museum staff. They gave me a present, a book which I had picked out (Treasures of the British Museum) and promised me a copy of each of the books I’ll have my name in as Assistant Editor (two books! I’m Assistant Editor in two books!), though those won’t be published until summer, probably. Anglo-Saxon Glass was supposed to be done by December, but our contact between us and the author got hit by a bus while on her bike (O_O!!). She broke her leg, badly (she was in surgery at one point), but she’s doing better, we’ve been told.

 

I got a private tour of a closed off gallery at the British Museum – the Townley Gallery. My guide was an expert on Roman sculpture techniques, and taught me quite a bit about how the Romans did their sculpture. She was incredibly impressed with my knowledge of the myths (she’d quiz me on what the scenes were about, and I only had to cheat and look at the label once!). Thanks, Prof Osborne, for that!

 

I didn’t get to see one thing that I really wanted to, though – the Discus Thrower. He was supposedly down there, but I didn’t spot him. He is in my new book, though. ^_^

 

 

Well, since I’m about to go home, perhaps I should take stock of what I will and will not miss about London and England.

 

Will Not Miss:

FIRE ALARMS! (this is more residence hall than England, but still…)

Blowing my nose and having it grey. Always.

The exchange rate.

Living on the tenth floor.

Coin laundry machines.

The drinking culture.

Sharing a kitchen (oh, wait…)

The Shower (It hates me, it does…)

No elbow room (is it sad that the toilet here at Sarum College is bigger than my bedroom back in London – and all it has is a toilet and a sink!?)

British-Mexican food (It’s bad that I’d kill for a Taco Bell burrito as a ‘decent’ Mexican food – that’s how low my standards have slipped!)

Subway (I’ve never had them get an order right, much less have it taste as yummy as American (Tom bought me a sub once and asked, after I took a bite, “So, how does it compare to American Subway?” “Worse!” I immediately answered, before taking another bite (still good, but not great).)

 

Will Miss:

THE COUNTRY

The transport system (Londoners complain about it, but I love that seven minutes for a tube is a tragically long delay)

Bathroom stall doors without gaps on either side (why can’t America take a leaf out of the Brits’ book and make gapless bathroom stalls?)

Things to do (theatre, movies, museums, shopping, all within easy access)

The food (not usually something people miss, but I often prefer the British version)

 Lemon Fanta (has replaced Apple Tango as an obsession)

The free papers (One in the morning, two in the evening, unless it’s a weekend when they vanish or a Wednesday where there’s a crappy ‘Epoch’ included in the evening freebies)

The history (When a Georgian-era building is only moderately old, that’s when I start getting impressed)

The people (I’ve got friends here… ~waves to the Gerkens, to Emma, to Ama, to everyone in Salisbury, the IES staff…~)

Oyster Cards (most convenient form of ticket I’ve come across)

 

Yes, I think I’ll miss England, quite a bit. But that’s okay! I’m already making plans to return in June/July next year! There’s this program called BUNAC, see, that is a work exchange program for American students or American just-graduated students. It’ll give me six additional months in England on a work permit (looks like I’m almost guaranteed a place, too), with help getting a job, housing, taxes, etc.), and from there, I can look for a permanent job that will sponsor a visa for me.

 

This is it, then. Last sevenish months in America, if everything goes according to plan. I’m quite nervous about my future, but I’m also quite confident. I can do it! Eat my dust!

 

If worse comes to worse, I can always clean. I’m good at that. ^_^

 

 

There will probably be one more short post after this one, to let everyone know that I got home safely. Until then… BYE!

I went to see Cats last night, had front row tickets, and got flirted with by the Rum Tum Tugger for the entire night (he's the big, main, pretty-boy bad-boy character, the one all the girls want).  What is about to follow is a squealy description of the night.  If you are uninterested in Cats don't bother reading. There's nothing else in this post after this point.

All right.  I'll admit it.  I miss the humans back home (and Stove Top stuffing, and cranberry sauce).  I realized about halfway through my own Thanksgiving meal (turkey thigh (what, me, eat a whole turkey!?), stuffing, gravy, olives (none for you, Emily! All mine!), bread (not homemade - can't do that with the kitchen I've got), and chocolate cheesecake for dessert (haven't gotten to that yet) that I miss my family.  A lot.  I think it's just the holiday, and the fact that we've always spent it together, or something, but I'd like it very much if you guys were here now.  Or even... even that I was there.  Just because the food would be better (my turkey is very yummy, nice and juicy and everything, but the stuffing is absolutely tasteless).  And there's a cat there.

I suppose it's a good thing that I'll be home for Christmas.

EDIT: There was another fire alarm at 7:30 this morning. I woke up, realized I had an hour more that I could sleep, and then the alarm went off.

Why does this always happen when I try to go to bed early so I can be not sleepy so I can write papers the next day?

Can too many fire alarms be used as a reasonable excuse for why your paper's not done?  One alarm, I'd say no... but how about four in a week?




Now, before I go anywhere with this, yes, fire alarms can be good.  They can save lives.  However, I'm not too concerned when living in an industrially built ugly hunk of cinder blocks and plaster and fire-proof everything and right next door to the fire station, even if I am on the tenth floor.

My past few days have been absolutely miserable.  Here's why.

Due to me being an amazingly excellent procrastinator, I ended up staying awake until 4:30 on Wednesday morning to write papers for midterms, waking up four hours later for class.

Wednesday night, I was, predictably, exhausted.  I was entirely proud of myself for going to bed at 8:30 PM.
At 3:30 AM, the fire alarm went off.  Leap out of bed from the blaring noise, find my key and my slippers and my winter coat (no way was I going out in just my pajamas), trudge down ten flights of stairs at a fairly fast pace to keep frm being deafened by the alarm (it echoes more in those stairs), go stand outside in the cold morning air for ten minutes as the firemen rush over from next door and tell us that there's no fire (after checking), trudge back inside, wait for the elevator, get upstairs... and can't fall back asleep.  I had five hours of sleep plus definite wake-up exercises... why would I be tired?

After managing to fall asleep at 5:30, I wake up the next day absolutely miserable.  Everything's good, though.  My shower was fixed the day before, and I have hot water.

I step in and practically scream - nope, freezing cold water.  Freezing cold shower + exhaustion = Awake but pissed Aimin.

I leave a note for the maintenance people saying, "Look, you said this was fixed, but it wasn't, DO SOMETHING (if you can).  Thanks..."

Then there was class.  My two most boring classes, back-to-back.

I get back to find a guy working in my shower.  He can't figure out what the problem is, it always behaves when he's around.  Grr....  He has fixed some things that he found wrong, though, and will come back tomorrow to finish fixing a leak (doesn't have the supplies with him today).  Sure thing, I said.  I can be up by ten so he can show up.

Go to bed at 11:45.  Tomorrow's a Friday.  No class.

Wake up at 1:30.  Fire alarm.  Repeat exercise from the day before.  While standing outside, I learn that there had been another alarm yesterday at 9:30 AM, except I had been on my way to class at the time and didn't hear it.  That one was from actual smoke - someone burnt something in the kitchen.

After the firemen leave, we surge forward to get back inside, but the IES res hall staff stops us.  "Why can't we go in!?" we demand to know, with mutterings of pitchforks and lighted torches.  "We're bringing down the girl who's been setting off the alarm these past few nights..." they answered.

The mutterings of pitchforks and torches grows louder, and after the girl is brought down and seated in a corner of reception, we're allowed to surge in.  We all glare at her, and she is too wasted to understand why we're upset.  "HAPPY HALLOWEEN!" she cries, grinning back at us.  The RAs are all lecturing her, chewing her out, but she keeps saying things like, "Why are you all upset?  I'm so confused..." and "Oh, yeah, I was totally smoking crack in my rooms..."

Mutterings of pitchforks and torches only grows as those of us on the 6+ floors wait for elevators.

Predictably, I can't fall asleep immediately again, and then end up sleeping right through my alarm, and only get woken by a knocking at my door at 10:30.  By the time I remember that I'm expecting Maintenence Man, he's gone.  Oh well.  I get up anyway, but he doesn't come back until 3.  Still, the shower's fixed, and I had the most comfortable shower I've had since moving to this room (usually the water oscillates between freezing cold and scalding hot, but now it was behaving itself and staying on one comfortable temperature).

The man fixes the leak, we talk about fire alarms and coming from small towns to the city, and then he goes.

I sleep.  No fire alarm.  The hall is celebrating.

We celebrated too soon.  Last night, I climbed in bed at 1:30 AM (it's a Saturday night/Sunday morning, I'm allowed!).  Guess what happened at 4:30 AM.

Fire alarm?

Oh yeah.

Key, coat, slippers, glare, and I fling my bedroom door open.  The guy across the hall is doing the same thing.  "Is this... fire alarm?" he asks, blinking sleep out of his eyes.  I nod, scowling.  "Do we... have to... go down?"  I nod again.  He makes an absolutely disgusted face and turns around to find his shoes, and I storm toward the stairs.

Repeat vigorous excercise.

The murmurs of torches and pitchforks have gotten louder.

The IES staff is not giving us the name of that girl.

Probably a good thing.  If they speak it, she will die.

( Late pictures, batch one! Sorry for the delay... )

I'm in Edinburgh, Scotland, now, in a hostel (a very NICE hostel), and I just went to see Cats last night with a fellow fan.

IT WAS AMAZING.

And I got almost an entire set of autographs from the cast, and a very nice gift for a fellow Cats fan.

...

I'm still grinning over Cats.  It was fabulous.  I don't know if one more time will be enough...

More than anything (except Munkus), I miss Tide to Go.  Apparently, the Brits do not find mysterious spots on their jackets on their way to work.

If I could have some Tide to Go and my Munkus cat (and a job, and a place to live that doesn't have a wonky shower), I'd be one of the happiest girls alive.

Sincerely,

Aimin

(sorry about the no pictures. I got lazy. They will be up eventually.)

So, as I'm sitting here, preparing to make another entry in this, I learned that since my last post, I had taken no less than 298 pictures.

298!!

I have no idea what I took three hundred pictures of.  Don't worry, I won't force three hundred pictures upon you.  I'll weed through them myself, first.  I'm just... wow.  298 in two weeks.  Dang.  That's a lot of pictures...

A lot has happened since last... whenever.  There was a crisis with Munkus (Munkus is my cat, the grey tabby in my picture, for those of you who don't know. We found him in the basement of our rental house the night we moved in (I say 'we' but mean 'me'), and fell in love, and refused to let him leave.  Until we weren't allowed to keep him anymore.  And then we managed to find him a home with a friend/coworker of mine) in which I was told that I'd have to let him go to a shelter, when I really didn't want that, but it turns out that a shelter wasn't even on the list of possible solutions for the guy who's holding onto him now.  So, Debby, Kayla, Dave, I don't hate you guys.  I'm a bit annoyed that you didn't talk to each other (that's why I wanted a Munkus contact while I was thousands of miles away), but no longer mad.  Munkus is just fine.

Shortly after I learned about the whole Munkus crisis, when I was ranting to Tom about it (British friend up here), he managed to completely humble me by pointing out that at least I'd know that Munkus was alive, even if he was in a shelter.  Turns out, one of his own cats got hit by a car.earlier that day, and it wasn't looking good.

Now, I know how horrible it is to lose a cat, even if you have other ones to cuddle, and I knew that Tom was addicted to Nerds, and I knew there was no better place in England to find American candy than in London (probably), so, after a bit of research, I had found a store that sold Nerds and got myself some train tickets and went to go cheer him up.

Just as there was no real Munkus crisis, and everything was better within a few days, so too was Tom's feline crisis.  I won't go so far as to say that Tigger (his cat) is fine, because he has a broken pelvis, but a broken pelvis is better than being squishyfied, and Tigger's supposed to make a full recovery.  As it was, he seemed to have nothing wrong with him aside from annoyance at being confined to a cage (for four weeks) when Tom and I sat by his side and stroked him through the bars.

That was the weekend.  The internship is going very well.  I finished the Anglo-Saxon glass stuff for now, and must wait for author's feedback on our corrections and queries before doing more.  I did some odd jobs for the last few hours on last Tuesday, as a result, and snapped some blurry pictures of my workplace (the small desk is mine, the big one is Josephine's, my supervisor, but I've been working there for the past few days because her computer has the program I needed, and mine didn't.)

Wednesday was History of London and Architecture in London, more walking and talking and tons of pictures.  On Thursday was Theatre in London, and we went to see "A Disappearing Number" by a group called Complicite.  The play was staged at the Barbican Theatre, which is part of the big concrete building I talked about in earlier posts, but it was pretty cool inside (picture below).  The play itself was incredibly boring.  Good acting, amazing special effects... I wanted to walk out halfway through, because I was so completely and utterly bored out of my mind.

Everyone else loved it, and the play was completely sold out for the rest of its run.  Go figure.

On Friday, I went to Osterly House with my English Country House class.  It was a very pretty house.  Again, I'm sorry, no pictures were allowed of the interior.  Suffice to say, it was gorgeous.  It had been prepared for a royal visit, except the king never showed up.  His bed's there, though, and tapestries on the walls... Pictures of the exterior are below.

Then... it was that horrible weekend with all the cat troubles.  After that was more internship (see above), and another History of London and Architecture of London.  That was fun - Westminster Abbey for History (guided tour, in which I saw Andrew Lloyd Webber's old school and accidentally stood on top of T.S. Eliot (and Charles Darwin)), and Christopher Wren's churches for Architecture.  Pictures of the churches are below, but the Abbey has a strict no photography rule inside (I wasn't overly impressed - I prefered Salisbury Cathedral).

Thursday, more Theatre, another play - Rhinocerous, by Eugene Ionesco.  Everyone turned into rhinos.  It was enjoyable, but didn't need the entire second act.  Also, the seats had no leg room.  No leg room.  Absolutely nobdoy was comfortable... and it was a 3 hour play (including intermission).  What made the cramped theatre worse was that during intermission, everyone around me left and came back with alcoholic beverages.  I could smell the alcohol.  Yuck.

Friday was a visit to another country house, Chiswick house.  Yet again, no pictures allowed inside.  That was a pity, because Chiswick's fascinating.  It's not a true country house, you see, because there are no bedrooms, no kitchens, etc.  It was more of a private art gallery for Lord Burlington.  Pretty swanky, though.  I loved the architecture - it was influenced heavily by classical designs, as well as Andrasi Palladio and Inigo Jones.

On Saturday, I did not officially get out of bed until 5.  PM.  I'd roll out of bed, check my email, collapse back in bed...  At five I tried to get out to do some shopping for non-essential items (kleenex, toilet paper, things that wouldn't be essential until I was completely run out instead of almost run out).  I got most of the way to the store before I decided I felt absolutely sick and had to sit down in a well-ventilated tube station (Bermondsey, probably the only one like that in London).  Then I just turned around and went home and collapsed in bed around 7:30 PM.

After sleeping until 7 AM, I was feeling much much better, and was able to make my planned trip to Cambridge for the day, where I hung out with Father Jason and Family.  While there, they asked me questions such as: What is the latest gossip at St. Paul's?  To my shock, I couldn't answer.  I know next to nothing about what everyone's doing back home!  YOU GUYS NEED TO TALK BACK!  Seriously.  You get updated on what I'm doing, why don't I get to even hear you're alive?

Father Jason and I wandered around the Fitzwilliam Museum, which was awesome.  The collection wasn't as impressive as the British Museum's (of course not), but the building was way cooler.  I loved it.

Then Father Jason and I walked through Cambridge and he pointed out a lot of the old colleges and churches we passed, before we returned to his flat.  While he made pizza, I chatted with his neighbor, who was studying Coptic.  That was fun.  Then we had pizza (finally, good pizza!) and I had to leave to catch a train back.

And now I'm sitting here, writing to all of you and doing my laundry.  Did you know that it costs 2.50 to do one load, wash and dry?  That's 5 quid to do two loads (lights and darks).

That's $10 to wash your clothes.

$10

I miss laundry being $1.50 a load.

Heck, I miss it being free.

Sorta.

Free for me.

All you Harry Potter fans, check out the last picture, at least...

(on second thought, the pictures will be up tomorrow. I'm dead tired, and 300 pictures is a lot to sort through)

Apparently, Munkus needs a new home, so if there's anyone nearby Holland who can take him, please speak up so he doesn't have to go to a shelter.

Apparently, no one in Holland knows what's going on with Munkus, so here's the latest news.

Munkus is NOT going to a shelter.  Dave won't do that.

Munkus will, in fact, be staying with Dave.

There is no problem.

It's been almost a week since I updated this, and for that, I'm sorry.  I'm not dead, I've just been tired.  It's been a big week.  Well, not really.  A large week.  Not excessively huge.

Let me explain.

On Wednesday, I had my first "outside university" course.  With the IES program, all of the courses are taught at the IES center (I'll need to get a picture of that), with IES staff.  However, IES includes in its program fee the cost of enrolling in one course in one of the unversities of London.  I chose to do that: History of London, at City University.

I forgot if I mentioned this or not, but City's mascot is a carrot.  Oh yeah.  We are the mighty carrots.  The carrot doesn't even have a name.  It just looks remarkably phallic.

And the international ed dude gave us all carrot pins.  Mine's on my purse.  I'm so proud to be a carrot.

...

I can't even type that with a straight face.

ANYWAY

I'm taking History of London.  I gave myself plenty of time to get there, and marvelled at the escalator at Angel Underground Station (27 meters up!).  I didn't even realize how big it was until I was halfway up it.  Pretty awesome.

Yeah, easily amused.

Anyway, I found the class, and took a pitstop in the bathroom.  They had an automatic hand dryer blower thingy.  I should have taken the "Feel the power...!" as a warning.  Instead, I foolishly stuck my hands underneath (it was motion activated), and... I felt the power all right.  The thing blew so hard I couldn't keep my hands under it, it kept shoving them down!

And it didn't dry them, either.

The main attraction of taking an outside course is to meet British students.  That's why IES encouraged it.

I realized that I wasn't going to meet any British students in this class.  It's for international students.  Most of us were Americans (one other IES girl from Hope), though there was one German boy and two South Koreans.  I kept marvelling at our teacher's boots.  They looked very comfortable.

History of London turned out to be a lot like Architecture of London.  We traipse around London and the teacher points out things of interest and talks about them.  Seeing as how Architecture of London's my favorite class so far, I think I'm going to enjoy it. ^__^ And yes, it is practically a repeat of Architecture, and they half-overlap... but I figure, I don't need the credit anyway.  I can just have fun and learn about London.  That's why I'm here, isn't it?

The only downside may be that those two classes are back to back (with an hour inbetween, but that hour's gonna be eaten up by travelling).  Four and half hours of traipsing around London might get tiring in bad weather.  Good thing I have good walking shoes (and a coat.  I've heard people whine about not having a coat.  They didn't pack one.  They thought sweaters would work.  What were they thinking!?  It's ENGLAND!  Cold and rainy is the norm here!).

We saw some cool places in that first class: St. Bartholomew's (pictures below), Guildhall (a picture below), Postman's Park (a picture below), and a bust of Shakespeare dedicated to the guys who actually gathered his plays and published them (no picture).

After History of London was Architecture of London.  That was also quite fun.  We saw the Freemason's Lodge (picture below), the Royal Opera House (picture below) and Covent Garden (pictures below).

Then I had another hour break and a THIRD class, from 5:30-7:30.  This was our Internship Tutorial, the academic part of our internship.  It was insanely boring.  We sat around and talked about working in England.  For two hours.  Apparently, I'm the only person in my group (arts and museums) who's actually getting to do real work.  Everyone else does internship stuff - label envelopes, send invitations, buy boss bottled water - whereas I'm actually laying out a book to be published.  Update on that later, though.  Chronological order, here!

Thursday.  What did I do Thursday?

Oh yeah...

English Country House was moved to Friday, since we had a field trip, so I got to sleep in.  Deirdre got up early and packed her suitcase in the morning, though, so I got to lie in bed and pretend to sleep while listening to her gather her stuff.  She then took off for Dublin.

Eventually, I did get up, and I went to my 1:30 class: Theatre in London.  For half the class we discussed the plays we saw the week before, Chatroom and Citizenship.  That was fun.  For the other half, we talked about Restoration Comedy.  That was boring.  I'm torn.  Half of the class is wickedly entertaining (the discussion) and half is exceedingly boring (the part where we listen to the teacher talk about how the theatre works, with a very odd rhythm to her words).  Afterwards, I went shopping for groceries (Tesco Ciabatta bread is YUMMY!), and then went to a play, The Country Wife, at the Haymarket Theatre.

We were told the Haymarket was on Haymarket Street, which is off of Piccadilly Circus.  No problem.  Take the Piccadilly line, as usual, just get off a couple stops early.  By now, the sun had set, and the sky was black.  I leave the underground...

... to get BLINDED.  For the first time, I really realized that London is a big city.  What made me realize this?

The ginormous flashing billboards.

Yes, the mark of a big city is light-up billboards.

(picture below)

I wandered around, totally lost (Piccadilly Circus was surprisingly big and bustling.  I hadn't been expecting it) and growing more and more worried that I wouldn't get to the play in time.  However, just then, a pair of bobbies (police) walked past, and I approached them, asking as nicely as I could if they knew where the Haymarket Theatre was.  They were really helpful and pointed me in the right direction (my first choice of direction, until I convinced myself I was going the wrong way).  I showed up just in time.  The Haymarket Theatre was pretty.  Pictures below.

The Country Wife is about one man, Horner.  Harry Horner.  (Horny Horner).  He likes to sleep with the ladies of London, especially ones that already have husbands, so long as they're pretty.  His friends do the same.  Now, Horner comes up with this plan.  He gets word spread that he's become a eunuch after contracting a sickness while in France and having the misfortune of a French surgeon seeing to him.  Now he pretends to be completely turned off from ladies.  What good does this do him?

Plenty.

Now, the rich men in town practically BEG him to keep their wives company, because that way she gets a man to escort her (and is safe), and there is no possible way Horner could ruin her honor (haha, thinks he).  The ladies soon find out the truth about Horner... and couldn't be happier.  They couldn't sleep around because that would injure their precious honor.  However, they could sleep with Horner and get the pleasure their husbands didn't give them (too busy with business and wenches to care about the wife) without any worry about gaining a bad reputation.

Meanwhile, one of Horner's old friends (who used to do this with women too) has gotten married to a naive but incredibly beautiful girl from the country... and Horner wants her.  His friend tries to keep his wife locked up, but she's ecstatic with the idea of a London gentleman in love with her, and ends up running away to 'marry' him.  By the end of the play, Horner's got four women following him around, as well as two husbands and a grandmother who are certain he's harmless and don't mind him playing with their ladies, and another of his friend's also runs off with the old friend's sister.  It's a happy ending.

Somehow.

It was quite an enjoyable play, but it was a little too long, I think.  Still, I laughed, so that was good.

On Friday was the field trip class of English Country House.  We went to visit an English Country House (country PALACE) called Audley End.  Pictures below.

Audley End actually was built to be a palace, and occasionally did entertain royalty.  It's a beautiful old mansion with well-landscaped grounds.  The interior is kept as authentic as possible to its period, with lots off wood and stone work, strapwork ceilings, and very dim lights.  They did have lamps and heaters, but no over head lights.  The house was as dim as it would have been back when the aristocracy called it home.  It didn't help that the day was drizzly and overcast, but still, the house was lovely.

I don't have any pictures of the interior, sorry!  Just trust me when I say it was beautiful, with thousands of books and hundreds-of-year-old carpets and a chapel and a bedroom prepared for a king.  Oh, and a taxidermy collection spanning the entire back gallery (the part between the two wings in the pictures)... on at least two floors.

Behind the house was a trench with one side a brick wall called a ha ha.  Its purpose was to keep the sheep from wandering into the gardens.  When we were told that, we all went "Haha!" in laughter.  Maybe that's how it got its name.

Saturday... Saturday I didn't do much.  Didn't even bother getting dressed until 4.  Really, there's not much to say about Saturday, so let's move on...

On Sunday, I went to the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival in Chinatown.  That was fun.  And loud.  Good food, though. ^__^  Couple pictures below.

I also got tickets to see the UK Tour of Cats!  WHEE!! SO EXCITED OMG YOU CAN'T IMAGINE!

this isn't my favorite musical or anything.  Oh no.  Not at all.  And it's not coming to within an hour of London while I"m still here.  Nope.  And I didn't manage to get front row tickets for me and Tom, another absolutely huge Cats fan.  Nope, nope, nope.  What makes you think that!?

Unfortunately, I have to wait until the end of November for that.  But hey, I'll be here!  They'll be here!  We'll be together!  Yay!

Now, on to my internship.

I had another day of work today, and I finished two chapters, including inserting pictures and smoothing out tables.  I then printed them out so Josephine could have a look at them... and I was really impressed.  It looks like something you'd find in a real book.  Something I made looks professionally done.  I was almost tempted to nick a couple pages just so I could keep it.  But I didn't.  ^__^  I'm just gonna buy a copy when it does get published.  It'll be very boring, but oh so cool, because it'll have my name in it and be all official and everything.

I only had one cup of tea today, and no bad symptoms.  Go me!

Also, the Greek galleries were open again!  They'd been closed since I arrived for no apparent reason - the Parthenon sculptures room was open, but nothing else.  Today, though, the whole thing was open, so I wandered through on my last few minutes of lunch break.  I think they remodelled it.  I don't remember the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus room being there before...

So that's what I've been up to.

Enjoy the pictures!

(And Hope people - pictures of DeWitt?)

Tea is rather big over here, in case you didn't know.  These past few days (Sat-Mon) have been rather rough on my system, as a result.

Now, I'm used to surviving on water and the odd bit of chocolate.  On Saturday, I went to visit Tom in Parkstone (south somewhat-west coast of England).  I took the train from Waterloo at noon.  Unfortunately, I misread my ticket.  Arriving in Parkstone at 14:14 does not mean 4:14 PM, as I told him.  So, at 2:14, I was standing at the train station in Parkstone, groaning to myself.  Tom works on Saturdays, you see, from 10 AM until 3 PM.  I knew that he wouldn't be back at his house until 3:30, and that he was going to come out to pick me up at a quarter past four.  Hmm.  Do you see a problem with this?  I do!

Rather than sit around at the station, I decided to be proactive.  Tom had mentioned that he lived about a ten minute walk away, and he had given me his address.  I had my computer with me (to write an essay on the train), and sure enough, it had logs of all my conversations with him saved (thank you, auto-loggers!).  A few minutes later, I had his address and a couple streets nearby.  Unfortunately, there was no wireless internet available.  I had to do the next best thing.

Ten minutes later, I had a map of Parkstone (and Poole, and Bournemouth, and all of Dorset) and was looking up his address.  About fifteen minutes later (Tom, you didn't tell me you lived up a hill!), I was staring at his house.  It was now 3 PM.  Tom wouldn't even be back from work yet, and nobody was expecting me until 4:15.  How, exactly, do you introduce yourself to people you've never met?

I ended up ringing the doorbell, and his older brother, James, answered it.  "Does Tom Gerken live here?" I asked.

"Uh... yes...  you must be..."

"Aimin."  Big smile, hold out my hand.  "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

James "showed me around," which involved pointing out two rooms - the living room and Tom's bedroom.  On the way up, we ran into his little sister, Jasmine (she's 12), and James fled to leave us to have "girl talk."  We talked about anime and older siblings. :)  About half an hour later, his mom came in and ffered me a cup of tea.  I accepted, so the next half hour involved standing in the kitchen, talking with Jasmine and her mother and stepfather about anime and cats.  Tom has five!  I got to cuddle with three of them!  And they all loved me!

Anyway.

Around 3:45-4, Tom came running in, horribly out of breath and all grins.  He was quite happy to see me.  It was fun.

That weekend, Tom ended up showing me around Poole, and he bought me fish and chips from a place within walking distance of the sea.  It was pretty good.  I managed to completely shock him, though, by informing him that in America, vinegar is not a common condiment.  We have it, and we use it, but it's not just sitting out with the salt like it is in England (you had to pay for ketchup (25p), but the vinegar was free!).  He can't imagine not eating chips (fries) with vinegar, and has decided that when he goes to America (he's visiting a friend in Rhode Island at the end of the year), he's going to bring his own with him.

He's also going to stock up on Nerds.  I got the boy addicted (and his mom loves Reeses Cups).

So, yes, Tom has five cats, and I cuddled with three of them.  Salem is Tom's baby, a big black cat.  Tom says he's fat, but personally, Sophie's chubbier.  Salem's just massive.  Salem wasn't too happy, though, because Tom wasn't babying him as much as usual because he was trying to entertain me.  Still, he'd cuddle. :)

Then there's Tigger, a fluffy tabby with white paws.  He was soo soft, and he loved to cuddle with me.  I sat next to him and started petting him, and he started purring and ended up half in my lap.

And Poppy, I think, was my favorite.  She's a tiny little black and white cat, mostly black, but with a white chest and white paws and a white stripe down her face.  She'd curl up with me at night, and apparently, really took to me.  I guess she's normally a bit aloof, but with me, she was purring and rolling on her back, letting me rub her stomach.  She kept climbing over me when I was trying to sleep, too, and she'd walk up my side to sick her face in mine.  She's a bit smaller than Munkus, but a couple years older.

Tom's other two cats, Jack and Jamie (I think), spent most of the time outside, so I saw them through windows, but didn't get to pet them until the very end, when I was on my way out.

Anyway, back to the tea thing.

On Saturday, I had some tea when Tom's mom offered it to me.  I also had about fifty million pieces of chocolates, chocolate-covered things, or other sweets on the train ride over.  By the time the chocolate cake for dessert rolled around, I literally could not eat more chocolate.  I tasted the tip of my tiny slice.  It was delicious.  I had to put the fork down.  I had to actually stop eating chocolate cake.

On Sunday, I decided to not have much caffeine, so when Tom brought me a cup of tea to try and wake me up (like usual, I didn't want to get out of bed), I ignored it until it was cold and icky, and then dumped it out.  No caffeine!  Yay!  I had a few bits of chocolate, but not much at all.

On Monday morning, I felt absolutely horrible, all achy and blah.  By the time I was on the tube to get to my internship, I was starting to tremble.  When I arrived at the office, my hands were shaking so badly and I could hardly walk straight.  My supervisor advised me to get a cup of tea while waiting for the computer to boot up, as it would take forever.  As I stumbled down the stairs to the breakroom, I remembered something I had done two years ago for a class - the effects of caffeine.  Being jittery was one of the biggest withdrawl symptoms.

Sure enough, half way through my cup of tea, my jitters had all but stopped and I felt thousands of times better.  I had a second cup of tea in the afternoon, and bought some tea for my room.  Apparently, I need it now.

This morning, I felt a bit blah, but not as horribly withdrawing as Monday, and after my first cup of tea, I was feeling much better.

I think it's horribly funny that I'm suffering withdrawl from going without tea for one day.  When I cut soda out of my life, and most of the tea I drank, I had no withdrawl symptoms whatsoever (that I noticed, at least).  Oh well.  Looks like I'm addicted to tea.

In my internship, I've moved on from editting the manuscript to actually laying it out now.  It's pretty fun.  I'm using Adobe InDesign.  A few bits of clicking and keyboard shortcuts and then BAM! It's beautiful!  I'm quite happy with it.  Yay!  I think I'm going to buy myself a copy, even though it's going to end up being horribly boring and expensive (35.00).  It's gonna have my name in it!  I can splurge $70 for a Christmas present for myself!

I also bought my rail pass for the rest of the school year.  For unlimited zones 1 and 2 travel, from now until Dec. 20th, with my 30% student discount, it cost me 178.40.  $356.80 dropped in two seconds.  Yuuuuck!  But at least now I don't have to buy anymore tube passes, which were costing me 23.20/week.

I'm rather tired now, but I need to finish my laundry.  Twenty more minutes, and then I can go to bed.

Time for another update. As you may have noticed, I am definitely not doing daily updates. Why? I'm just too tired, a lot of the time. 

On Tuesday, I did more manuscript editting.  I also got shown into the secret employee canteen in the British Museum where meals are very incredibly cheap (try two people eating a meal for $4.00 (that's taking the exchange rate into account).  I was impressed.  To get there, I got to go underneath the museum in the tunnels, and then back out that way.  Later that day, I had a tour (one of the paid ones, but I got it for free, because I'm staff there now).  I managed to find my way in through the tunnels okay.  On the way out, I got completely lost, but that was all right - I found the big cleaning machines (like the scout and floor scrubbers and stuff) and the Central Archives (and where they kept their Christmas Decorations, according to the cupboards), and a storeroom for ancient Egyptian stuff... I was practically squealing more from my lost explorations than from the museum itself!

(I also saw a "Do not feed the cats in this area" sign, but I didn't see any cats.)

Classes are different in London than in America. For one thing, they only meet once a week. For another, they're a lot longer. Try two and a half hours longer. I'm used to fifty-minute classes - two and a half HOURS! There is some good news, though.

Sometimes, I don't notice the length.

One of my classes, Architecture of London, is absolutely fascinating. We walk around all over London, and the professor points out things that we never would have even looked twice at. Last week, we studied Brutalism. It's the term used for big, hulking concrete designs that are more than just a box. Brutalist structures are usually designed to make an impact when you see them, and one thing most Brutalist structures have in common (though I'm not sure if it's on purpose) is that the entrance is usually hidden. The main example of Brutalism we looked at was the Barbican complex (some pictures below). Brutalism, in my personal opinion, is ugly. Quirky, but ugly. There's far too much cement and not enough anything else. Apparently, the Barbican is actually kinda pretty when the sun's out, but when it's grey and gloomy, everything looks grey and gloomy. Seeing as how London is grey and gloomy most of the time, Brutalist structures really aren't the best for this area.

After Architecture of London (immediately after), we went to the National Theatre to get a backstage tour (it was AWESOME! We saw the coolest theatre ever (the Olivier), which has a rotating DRUM 4 stories deep as part of the stage - you can build scenes in it and raise them up and such to switch sets during a play without needing to push things around (most stages that rotate just have a platform).  There's only one other stage like it in the world, in Austria, I believe (though there's a temporary one set up for the Lord of the Rings musical that's in London, but they can't keep it).  We also got to watch the rehersal of an intense battle scene for a play, Saint Joan, that's constantly sold out.  It relied almost entirely on sound.  Instead of running around and hitting each other, there was this really big, pounding music, and they slammed chairs around in sync and with the music and ran around the stage and slammed mallets into pieces of metal and the stage spun and platforms lifted and they slid around and WOOOSH and, and, and...

And it may sound lame written out, but if you were there... it was very incredible just watching it when they were all in t-shirts and bare feet or whatever.  Imaginging what it would be like in costume, in the context of the play, with the lights and everything set up... wow.  I wish I could see it... but it's all sold out.  All the time.  That's how awesome the play is.

Several of my classmates were from my Architecture class, so we discussed how the National Theatre seemed to be Brutalist as well (see pictures below).  I also thought that DeWitt Center at Hope has hints of Brutalism architecture, so I'm going to write about that for my journal entry this week (for the class, not here).

We then got to see two plays, which were also both awesome - Chatroom and Citizenship - both about teenageres.  In Chatroom, the action takes place entirely in chatrooms.  One guy is depressed and is talking about it, and two other bored teens decide to make it their pet project to see if they can convince him that they're his friends while actually driving him toward suicide.  It was a very awesome play, and the next day, my professor said we were probably witnessing the birth of a star... I'm prone to agree.  The depressed teen was... just... he was [i]amazing[/i].  Almost half the audience was in tears or close to it, at least.  I was close to tears.  These plays were also done in such a small auditorium that where I was sitting, maybe a third of the way back, I could lean forward and have grabbed his sleeve.  It was a very intimate little setting.

(he had a happy ending that made us feel very good)

The second play, Citizenship, was about a teenager struggling with his sexual identity.  He didn't know if he was gay or straight, so experimentation ensues, as well as trying to keep his experimentation secret from the guys who pick on "Gay Gary" (who's not gay, just a stoner trying to imitate a Jamaican accent).  It was much more light-hearted, but it didn't have a nice ending.

On Thursday, I had The English Country House, which was both boring and interesting.  The professor doesn't teach so much as read things to us.  That puts us all to sleep.  However, we then went on a field trip to see some examples of English City Houses that were contemporary with the Country Houses we're going to visit, and then the teacher actually TALKED to us, told us about things that she knew, and it was so much more fun!  I'm now trying to figure out if there's a nice way to ask her to read about other people's stuff less and tell us more about what she knows and likes.  It's so much more engaging.

After that was the Theatre in London class.  The first half we spent talking about the play we saw last week, Elling, and Sara and I did a presentation on it... or rather, we asked the class maybe two questions and they all ran with it.  Excellent!  Just what they were supposed to do!  Afterwards, we talked about the setup and funding of theatre in London.  That was a lot duller.

Today I spent sleeping in and getting things straightened out.  My roommate's in Rome this weekend, so I took the opportunity to talk to a residential coordinator here.  For those of you I haven't complained to, Deirdre and I haven't been getting along.  There's absolutely nothing wrong with her, it's just that we don't mesh.  We have absolutely nothing in common, but she keeps trying to get me to be her friend.  To be honest, I'd rather not.  We have absolutely nothing in common.  I don't want to go out drinking and partying all night, and she doesn't want to stay home writing.  It wasn't working, and the more she tried to make it work, the more frustrated I got.

There is a solution, though.  On October 6th, another room in the hall opens up, and I've been granted permission to move in.  I'll have the room to myself unless they need the space to put another person in.  However, they will make a note to not do that.  I'm quite looking forward to it, even though I will lose my lovely view of the city.  

I went to the British Museum again today, and in my wanderings, I took a wrong turn and found myself in a room that I'd never seen before.  My jaw dropped open.  Literally.  I stumbled around in shock, wondering if I was even in the same building, until I noticed that I was actually getting a couple odd looks, so I closed my mouth and tried not to look so awe-stricken.  I managed to get some pictures, but they're all blurry and not very good.  I included the best one at the bottom.

To explain: The British Museum is decorated like most museums.  The walls are white, the floors are white, the ceiling's white... everything is white and fairly plain (there are some columns and stuff around) to keep from drawing attention away from the things on display.  It's rather sterile, but totally awesome.

The room I stumbled into was anything BUT sterile and plain.  It was still totally awesome.  Look at the picture.  I can't explain it.

Tomorrow (Saturday), I'm going to be in Dorset, visiting Tom (he came up last week).  He invited me out, and he lives not too far from Salisbury (he could walk there, if he wanted, he claims.  He also claims it would take about three hours, but that it's entirely doable).  So, that's my weekend plans.  Be in Dorset.

Tom has kitties!  Whee!  (I've missed having cats around.  I miss my Munkus!)

Hmm, anything else?
   - Debby, I need to talk to you about some things, so next time we're both on, could you just IM me to get my attention?
   - People at Hope!  I need pictures of DeWitt!  I've already asked a couple people, but now to just ask everyone.  I need some exterior pictures, both general full-building pictures and also some close-ups, especially of the concrete bits.  I don't need many, and there's no rush, but I would appreciate a couple.  Thank you!
   - Toblerone with Fruit and Nuts is very good.  I am greatly enjoying the fact that an average bar of Toblerone costs $1.04-08 (depends on what type - milk or dark) at one of the shops over here.  In the States, it's $2-4 a bar (and again, that's taking in exchange rates).  In fact, it's more expensive for me to buy a pack of Reeses Cups than it is to by a Toblerone bar.
   - Icy Lemon Fanta is my new addiction.  Curse you, Tom!  Curse you!
   - It was dirty laundry making my closet smell bad.  Apparently, a wet towel at the bottom of a nylon bag does not age well.  Bleck.  It smells nice and clean now.
   - London is awesome.


( Pictures! )




 

mn

There haven't been daily updates recently because there hasn't really been that much for me to update on.  I've settled in to London, and I went to almost all my classes.  I register for one more today - City University's classes haven't started yet.

On Wednesday, I had Architecture of London, which was fun.  We got up and walking, went outside and looked at buildings.  I saw a truck promoting the Cats UK Tour.  I want to go! (and I will. I promised myself I'd get good seats to that show one time).  We also went to the British Museum and looked at the Parthenon sculptures, as well as the museum itself.  I have to admit, it's an absolute blast to have the British Museum a two minute straight walk from the building with all my classes in it.  Absolutely awesome.  I've been there loads of times already.  Admission's free!  You can't get much better than that! (and they do ask for donations of $5, or three pounds, or five euros, or the equivalent in your own currency.  Just looking at their donation boxes is fun - see how many currencies you can pick out!)

After Architecture of London, we had an hour break, and then my internship tutorial class started at 5:30.  That class is going to meet every other week.  This week, though, we all met together, but the rest of the time, we'd be split into smaller groups - Arts and Theatre will be my group.  Dave's either in Media or Business (I think).  We talked a lot about what sort of stereotypes we thought we'd encounter, or we thought they'd think of us, and how our jobs have surprised us so far.

Internships are fairly new over here.  When I was telling people in the states that I'd be an assistant in the Research Publications department, and I'd get to help work on books and get them published and all this fun stuff, I'd be corrected and told no, I'd probably just get them coffee (or tea).  However, because internships are so new, the supervisors don't seem to realize that, and so they're actually giving us all Actual Work.  I really will get to work on books!

Thursday, two more classes - The English Country House in the morning, and Theatre in London in the afternoon.  The English Country House sounded interesting (studying and taking visits to the English country palaces), but in actuality?  Meh.  It was my most boring class.  I really hope it doesn't stay that way.  Really really hope so.  It's such a pity that we have to have five classes.  I'd love to drop it and get some extra time.

Theatre in London sounded pretty fun too, and we got our tickets for the nine productions we're going to see.  Unfortunately, Ian McKellan in King Lear was sold out.  We have to settle on Patrick Stewart of Star Trek fame in Macbeth.  Oh darn. :)

Yesterday was our first production - Elling.  It was so sweet and fun, and John Simms, who apparently is quite famous but I haven't seen him in anything (he was in Doctor Who recently, I've been told), played the main character Elling.  I got his autograph.

Elling is about two patients in a Norweigian mental hospital who are being released to be rehabilitated.  They're given an apartment and a social worker and have to somehow manage on their own.  Elling is a mommy's boy - his mother did absolutely EVERYTHING for him, and he never left the apartment they lived in until two years ago, when she died, and he was taken to the hospital (he is now, as a result, scared of just about everything) - and Kjall is a very simple man with two desires: Food and Sex.  He's never had sex, and he loves hot dogs.  He's very easily ordered around, but he does stand up for himself.  His favorite words are "Holy shit!" in a "That's amazing!" sort of way.  Frank Asli is their social worker, and he is driven to the end of his rope by Elling's refusal to step outside or answer the phone, and he's not quite sure what to make of Kjall except to smile at him.  Then there's Reidun, a pregnant woman who collapses outside their apartment on Christmas Eve - Kjall falls in love with her, and begins to look after her with a single-minded devotion and loyalty that's so sweet and touching (and poor Elling feels lonely and abandoned by), and there's also Alfons, an old poet who takes Elling under his wing, in a way, and helps Elling open up (and become the edgy, sauerkraut poet, E (he writes poems and puts them in boxes of sauerkraut for people to then find and enjoy).  At the very end of the play, Reidun is in the hospital, having her baby, but there were possibly complications.  Kjall and Elling are sitting around their dining room table, falling over drunk, and when they receive word that it's a girl, a huge girl, 10 lbs, they celebrate by finishing their glasses, and then Kjall goes to bed.  Frank shows up at that time, looking around the mess of an apartment (vomit on the floor and everything).  Elling thinks he's come to take them back to the asylum, and is sad, but Frank eventually tells him that no - the asylum is for lunatics.  Yes, they were supposed to keep the apartment clean and themselves in good shape... but normal people get trashed and drink too much and vomit on the floor when children were born.  Take an aspirin and clean the place up... and congratulations.  They're normal.

Elling celebrates, and Kjall wakes up with the pronouncement, "Elling!  I'm dying!" (which is his usual claim whenever he doesn't feel good (as he wouldn't, with the amount of wine he drunk)) and the play ends.

Sara Hardwick, one of the girls in my class, and I are doing a presentation on Elling next week in class, so we thought we'd hang around the stage door and try to get autographs (or rather, she thought that, because she's a huge John Simms fan, and I thought it would be fun, so I did it with her).  We ended up with John Simms' (Elling), as well as Kjall's and Alfons'.  All three of them were very nice, though Simms escaped as quickly as he could to get to the pub with his girlfriend.

Aaaand... that's what I've been up to, lately.  Time to start another day, I suppose.

My classes officially start tomorrow (Architecture of London, 1600-Present Day at 2-4:30, and Internship Tutorial 5:30-7:30), so I spent today sleeping in (or as in as I could sleep - woke up at 8, didn't get out of bed until 11:30) and trying to find the books that I "need."  I was... rather less-than-successful.  Unlike the American colleges, where there's a bookstore that sells every textbook you could need, at absurd prices, IES has two "libraries" that are really just a collection of donated books from previous students.  I found about four of my books in the libraries - but I have a TON of books on my lists!  Each class has "required reading," "recommended reading," and "background reading."  My list is already half a page long of just titles for required reading.  Recommended and background aren't even on the radar at the moment.

I wouldn't mind having so many books to read if I could only find them.  I went to a couple bookstores and only found one of my other books - a copy of the script of "The Country Wife," a play from the 1600s.  I bought it, since it only cost a pound (all books in that store were on sale for half-price, which was pretty cool.  I guess the only thing I can really do is ask my professors if they have any recommendations for where I can find these books.  (not even Amazon has all the books that are "required").

My Oyster card runs out today, so I'm going to either need to find a way to refill it or to get myself a new one tomorrow.  It's been handy, just tapping in and out instead of needing to buy tickets to travel the tubes.  It also means that I can travel unlimitedly in zones one and two for the week my card is valid - and that's what I've been doing.  On top of that, Oyster cards work to get you a cheaper fare (adverts all over say 1.50 for a 4 pound trip and such) if you do "pay as you go."  If the pilgimage was in London for more than a day or two, I'd recommend it.  It's 23.20/card for a week of unlimited tube/bus riding.  Pretty cool, huh?

I also signed up for a trip to Scotland during our mid-term break.  (Just so you know, Mom - expect the bill.  Rather than having us withdraw the fee, they're just having the Chicago office bill our details.  You can take it out of my account, though (unless you're feeling generous!)).  That'll be cool - a week in Scotland.

Dave's looking for a job here, and I'm trying to get a trip to Salisbury on Saturday.  I haven't found anyone to go with me yet (Dave might be working), but I'm not daunted.  I'll go alone, if I must.  I want to see the cathedral again!

I took a different route to the tube station than usual on my travels, and I found a vintage/second-hand clothes shop that was going out of business.  Everything was soooo expensive (and I don't know if it was before or after the discounts), but it all looked so cool, too!  I would have taken home some of those things, if I knew I had space.

Last night, I rearranged my desk so it was't attacking me whenever I added something to it.  It looks much better now.  I can find everything now!!

In other news, my closet smells funny.  I can't figure out if it's something inside my closet (it doesn't smell like dirty clothes, which is the only thing I can think of that would smell bad in there) or if it's the closet itself.  Hmm...

Part of the reason I chose this program (IES) was because they offered, in addition to their classes, internships for credit.  I want to move to England, and I want to work either as the Librarian of Salisbury Cathedral or in the British Museum.

The Internship Coordinator here set me up with two interviews at two different museums.  One was the Dr. Johnson House Museum, a 300 year old house restored to its original condition and the location of the creation of the first English dictionary, and the other was the British Museum itself, in the Research Publications department.  I have both interviews today - the BM at 11 AM, and Dr. Johnson at 3 PM.

The interview at the BM (supposed to be 15-20 min) lasted an hour and a half, and ended up with us sitting in the main court of the museum itself, sipping tea and talking about how to go about getting an actual job in the museum.  I was unable to stop grinning by that point, because over the course of the interview (which was more of a lecture on what would be expected of me), it became very apparent that all I had to do was say "Yes," and I'd have it.  It was even confirmed at the end.  Say yes, and it was mine.

It's going to be mine!

I can't officially say yes until after I've gone to my other interview, but there's no way I'd turn down the British Museum!  Besides, there's one other girl interviewing at Dr. Johnson's Museum, and she really wants that one.  She can have it.  I have the BRITISH MUSEUM!

I am quite happy.  I haven't been able to stop grinning (much).

There is one small damper on things, though.  Munkus needs a home again. V_V  If anyone's in the Holland area and can hold on to him until I can get my own place (or if Travis can just get on meds or something), let me know!  Food/litter will be paid for!  You just need to keep him fed and clean!

Today was yet another orientation adventure - a trip to Greenwich, the home of time.  This is where the Prime Meridian cuts through, the place that was (and still is) used as the reference point for time everywhere.  Timezones are Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) -5, or whatever.  That alone was pretty cool, so I was looking forward to it.  I was looking forward even more to the "find your way back" afterwards, which meant we didn't have to stay as the big group.  Yay!

We started by taking the tube to Tower Hill, which is right near the Tower of London.  People were disappointed to learn that the Beefeaters (the Tower guards) were all inside the Tower, and could not be seen from the path we were on, but several Beefeaters were hanging around the entrance and made those people very happy.  We then got on a boat, all 74ish of us, and took a cruise down the River Thames.  Our guides pointed out some interesing things, including the entrance to Traitor's Gate (the river was at high tide - 25 foot difference between high and low tide.  I'm wondering if the entrance was completely underwater when I took that picture!) and the tallest building in the UK, which was, at one point, the tallest building in Europe.

After the boat ride, we got off at Greenwich, near the Cutty Sark.  This was a famous ship, captained by Lord Nelson, a wartime naval hero who died in the battle of Trafalgar some 200 years ago.  Sadly, the Cutty Sark was badly damaged by a fire last year.  People had feared that the ship was destroyed, but it turns out that only 60% of the hull had suffered fire damage, and the mast, sails, and riggings had all been removed prior to the fire and set aside for storage (during the winter, I think).  Currently, the Cutty Sark is hidden by a big tarp as they work to restore it.

We visited some palace-like buildings in Greenwich that were first meant to be a palace, but then became a hospital for sailors, and then became the naval academy.  Now that the academy has moved to Portsmouth, it is a museum.  In these buildings were two fantastic rooms, the Chapel (pictures below) and the Painted Hall (Pictures also below)

From the National Maritime Museum, we climbed a steep hill to the Greenwich Observatory, where Issac Newton studied under an astronomer, and where the Prime Meridian is located.  On top of one of the buildings there is a ball on a pole, and at one PM, there is a clang and the ball drops.  I got to see it, and it was very cool.

After poking around in the Observatory a bit, we were released to do our own thing and find our way back home on our own.  There were open-air markets in Greenwich at the time, and I found those pretty easily.  I had a spinach and feta slice from one of the stands, which is spinach and feta cheese wrapped in a flaky sort of pastry dough.  I tooled around Greenwich a little longer before finding the bus we were supposed to take to a tube stop.

A little ways into the bus ride, and I saw a large sign that said "Turn left for TESCO!"  I've been looking for a full-sized Tesco for a while now, and I figured this might be one.  Luckily, the bus stopped just a few feet down the road, and I hopped off and turned left and climbed the stairs I found.

Sure enough, there was a HUGE Tesco... attached to a mall!  I was quite happy, but I contained myself and went inside.  A little while later, I had all the supplies I needed for making chocolate chip cookies (my adventure next weekend) except the butter and eggs.  It took me a while to find baking soda (bicarbonate of soda) and chocolate chips (sold in tiny packs), but eventually, I succeeded.  Now it's time to convert my recipe.

The Tesco and mall were within a few minutes of a tube stop that was just one exchange from a line that ran through South Kensington, the station closest to the IES dorm.  I hopped a couple trains and made it back after spending another full day on my feet - but without the pain this time.  The Compeed patches really help, and I can't even feel my blisters.  Yay!

Anyway, here are the pictures for you all!

 Hey all,

Today, we had our internship orientation, and guess what!?

I GOT AN INTERVIEW WITH THE BRITISH MUSEUM!!

I am really quite excited for this.  It'll be at 11 AM, Monday (6 AM Monday for those of you back home on the East Coast, 5 AM for the next time zone over, and the rest of you get to figure out the time on your own).  At 3 PM, Monday, I have another interview with a different museum (Dr. Johnson House Museum).  I'm so excited.  The British Museum!  Might want me!  Whee!

I did do something incredibly stupid today.  I walked around London for about five hours (not completely nonstop, but almost) in shoes that I hadn't worn in a while.

Can you say blisters?  Ouch.

Lucky for me, there are these lovely Compeed patches over here, which work wonders on blisters.  My feet already feel better, and it's only been a couple hours.

We went on a bus tour of London today, so I have more pictures (which I will probably put up in half an hour or so).  They came out surprisingly well, despite being taken through a window of a moving bus.

After the bus tour (I had walked around for about 1.5 hours beforehand, and my feet were aching already), we had a 1 hou tour of the British Museum.  It was such a testament to the soreness of my feet that I didn't enjoy it.  Much.  I saw some Coptic and read it.

After the British Museum came more walking.  I realized I didn't have a bag big enough to hold my papers and stuff (laptop) securely when commuting between the dorm and the Center (and my internship).  I do have my backpack, but it was pointed out during orientation that backpacks are great to steal from, because the victim can't see them.  I do not want to risk losing my laptop if I bring it out of my dorm.

I found a wonderful little shop that was closing its doors, so I got a great black bag and a leather wallet/coin purse for 10 pouds (5 each).  That's $20/$10 each for those of you who can't convert.  That should be more than adequate for what I need.

I also met a girl from Austria.  She was here on vacation, but had gotten lost, and when she saw me bring out a map, she asked for help.  Unfortunately, I was lost too, but we maanged to find our way home tgether.  Her destination turned out to be just down the street from mine.  I never did ask her name, but she wants to move to London/England after finishing her studies as well.  Who knows, maybe we'll meet each other again.



I think you can tell a Londoner from a foreigner by how they cross the street.  Londoners don't wait for the "green man" that means it's safe to cross.  They go whenever there's an opening.  Sometimes, traffic will stop, the Londoners will swarm, and then traffic has to remain stopped because there are people surrounding the cars.

Foreigners will either wait for the "green man" or wait until the Londoners start crossing en masse.  Then they follow like ducks, or sheep, often with frightened looks on their faces.

I must admit, I'm not waiting for the green man quite so much anymore.  I do still like it when Londoners lead the way, but I'm getting more daring.  (this does not equal stuid.  I look both ways (especially the way the street is telling me to look) and make sure there are absolutely NO cars coming.  I did almost get run over by a cyclist, though.)