In an aeroplane over the sea....

I figured I needed one more post to wrap everything up.

I’m writing this on the airplane… I’ll post it if I ever land, which I gotta tell you, feels like it’ll be in years. I have that map display up, which says I have 3,219 miles and five and a half hours to go…. Here comes the turbulence. My favorite part of flying.

When I was settling down on the plane before we took off, the man sitting next to me asked me, “Do you live here or are you going home?” and it took me a few seconds to come up with a response. I went for the “going home to Berkeley” reply just because it was simple and fast and I could feel another surge of tears coming. Everyone who goes to university has the whole I-don’t-know-what-home-means crisis and it just gets more extreme when you study abroad. I spent two years in Madison and one year in Warwick and yet England seems like so much more of a home to me than Madison ever has.

This year has been the best year of my life, and it’s all thanks to the amazing friends I’ve made. You guys are the most hilarious, intelligent, generous, loving people I have ever met… I sincerely hope that you all realize how spectacular you are.  I have never felt more connected to a group of people before and I am so lucky to have known you and called you my friends. You’ve really raised the standard of friendship in my life.

Annnnd now I’m sobbing. Holy crap, I’m emotional and I hate airplanes. I’m in the middle seat…. And squished. The guy in front of me keeps opening the window and closing it… as if the view of the clouds will significantly change every five minutes. Now his wife is looking out the window. Who knew that white fluff could be so fascinating? This airplane smells like old people.

I think I’ve changed a lot this year, but I can’t really pinpoint how… I guess I’ll find out when I’m thrown back into my old life.  I feel happier (well not right now), more confident and determined…

I’m coming back to England. It’s not really an option. And even if I don’t get into Warwick, I’ll go to any university and visit my friends all the time. A year just feels like forever… I mean the remainder of this flight feels like forever.

2,890 miles left.

Thanks for reading

Thank you for a fantastic year

Silby Out x

Any minute now, my ship is coming in...

The past few days have been really difficult.... and the next few won't be any better. I've never been very good at saying goodbye, but saying goodbye to my friends here has been one of the most heartbreaking experiences of my life. The only thing getting me through is the thought that I'll hopefully be back in a year..... and that I can skype people.

My boxes have just been taken away, I'm taking down decorations in my room, packing up my last suitcase, and crying intermittently.

Good news: I just went on Virgin Atlantic's website and they have some great movies and TV shows for me to watch to distract me from the fact that I'm 30,000 feet in the air in a metal tube with wings on it. Ten hours.... god that's a long time.... that's about five movies, right? I think I can handle that. Up in the Air, Crazy Heart, Date Night, The Damned United, and maybe some Arrested Development, 30 Rock, and Gavin and Stacey, an English TV show that I have just been introduced to (and which might make me cry if I watch it leaving England).

I feel so bad for whoever will be sitting next to me.... not only because of the usual sweating, shaking and occasional vomiting, but add crying hysterically to that and they might have to throw me off the plane.

I'm off to London tomorrow.... staying with Clare and hopefully catching some theater before I go. A few days in London is a good way to end the year.

One more blog post to come... sorry for the depressing nature of this one.... but the next one probably won't be any happier.

England vs. U.S.A.

Well, this is it, folks. This is what my entire study abroad experience comes down to: tonight's World Cup match, showing at 7:30pm here. The immense showdown. The big kahuna.

I'm just kidding, I couldn't care less.

I don't think I've ever watched a soccer game in full before, and I would be perfectly happy if it stayed that way....

But isn't this such a weird coincidence? Is it just me, or have there been lots of "the special relationship" related events this year? And what exactly is this special relationship? All year I've been trying to piece it out...

It was coined by Churchill (I think?) and has been used by politicians on both sides of the Atlantic ever since. What's interesting to me, however, is the trickle-down effect it has on the relationships between actual people... not saying that politicians aren't people... well, maybe I am.

When I first got here, I thought the relationship was pretty simple. I thought they were all the stereotypically well-spoken and intelligent ones, and I was the stereotypically outgoing and friendly one.... and we all thought the other was incredibly charming. But now that I've been here for a while, and developed really strong friendships, it's easier to see why these politicians stick with the word "special" over any other more descriptive adjective.

I never once thought of myself as patriotic in any way before I came here, but now I find myself defending America fairly frequently. And being from California puts me in an weird position, as it is often considered by Americans, Californians, and most citizens of the world, to not really be a part of the U.S. But, as much as I hate to admit this, it is. And as furious as I get over *sigh* many, many things in the States.... Arizona's immigration law, the ignorant idiots I lived with in the dorms freshman year, that vomit-inducing horror of an organization known as the Tea Party, or anything that comes out of South Carolina... I still only really fit in America. And no matter how much I love it here, how long I live here, and how much my accent changes, I will always be the American.

So maybe I will cheer for America tonight. We'll probably lose. And then my friends will have yet another reason to tease me. But I don't care... because I'd rather be teased for my accent, Americanisms, and my country's inability to play soccer by these wonderful people than never have met them at all.

Go U.S.A?

I get the news I need on the weather report....

There's a house across the river....

Dear blog,

Two exams down and one to go. The next one is in three weeks, so I feel like maybe I should be allowed to take a little break and not revise at all today. Instead, I went to Tesco, did some laundry, cleaned my room... and I just realized that none of that is really relaxing. Oh well... a bunch of my friends finish on June 5th, so I can start having fun then.

I had my Shakespeare exam on Wednesday and my Devolutionary British Fiction exam yesterday, followed by hot chocolate then Pimm's and Doctor Who at Sarah's house. It's nice being able to watch Doctor Who with someone... some of those episodes can be terrifying! And thank God Sarah watches TV like I do... which is basically yelling at the TV, thinking the people in it can hear you. I think that comes from movie theaters in Berkeley.... what is it about movie theaters there that makes the audience so fun? University students probably...

Recently I've let myself accept the fact that it's okay to be happy in England while still missing home. I get little flashes of places or memories every once in a while and get little pangs of homesickness. Today, I had a flash of REI, the one on San Pablo, and got homesick. Why REI??? I also really miss Berkeley food. Turkish Kitchen, Chaat Cafe, all sushi restaurants, Bicurious Garden (as Eyal calls it), Cheeseboard, Gregoire's, Chaam, basically anything on Shattuck. But for now, I need to appreciate the last month (crap!) I have in England because I know that the second I go back to Berkeley, I'm going to want to come back.

I'm compiling a list of books I want to read this summer. Here's what I have so far:
- 1982, Janine by Alasdair Gray
- Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky (need to keep up with my law-school-bound sister)
- The Closed Circle by Jonathan Coe (sequel to a book I read for class this year)
- Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen
- Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby
- Choke by Chuck Palahniuk
- Born to Run by Christopher McDougall (thanks, Clare!)
- Fool by Christopher Moore
- Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace

Okay, I understand that it would be impossible to read all of those this summer.... but I'll still try.

Aaaaand now there is a goose outside my window. I am officially scared out of my mind. They've gotten more vicious since they had babies. I'm gonna go now and try to close the window without getting attacked.... I will leave you with some beautiful artwork by Yas:

Pimm's and Shakespeare...

I haven't written on this for a while for two reasons: One, because I've been stressed with Shakespeare related events and a 5,000 word essay. Two, because I have gained a new audience... some of my WONDERFUL FRIENDS here happened to find this blog and think it's really funny to quote it back to me in what they think is my accent. I've tried to write a new post in the past few days, but I always end up just hearing the words I type spoken in the horrible American accents they do. Yes, horrible... especially you Lawrence, Clare, Alon, and Josh. (There. Now you've been mentioned in my blog.)


Now that Julius Caesar is over and my paper has been handed in (Shit, I can hear their accents now....), I feel like I can breathe again. I don't have much to report though, but I do have some videos to share from Sonnets and Scenes, if you check my photos. I'm uploading them right now. My friend Clare and I (mentioned twice, Clare!) directed three scenes from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and they're pretty damn good if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, two of the scenes are ridiculously long, so I could only record a part of them. I also recorded some of my favorites from the day, including Yas doing a mix of Ophelia and Hamlet speeches, James performing two sonnets, and Josh doing the opening to Richard III. Unfortunately, I didn't get to record everything I liked (Much Ado, I love you), mainly because I had my first Pimm's (delicious English sangria) and wasn't exactly on top form.

I'm also uploading my pictures from Amsterdam, since I completely forgot to do that.

Off to the lyyybreee to do some research.

Should be writing my essay, but instead...

I'll tell you about a game I learned today called Bulldog.

I'll start off by saying that the cast and crew of Caesar have been working from the wee small hours of the morning until late at night trying to get this play together. I woke up at six in the morning today. ME! Needless to say, there are times when we need to go play outside in the sunshine... yes! Sunshine in England! Who knew?

So today, after a little game of Duck-Duck-Goose, someone mentioned Bulldog, to which I replied, "What's that?" The directors then ordered everyone to go on this massive grass field and asked, "Who wants to go first?" I enthusiastically volunteered, and did not take into account the fact that nobody else did. Lesson of the day: don't volunteer for something before you know what you're doing.

I stood in the middle of the field while TEN boys rushed at me and I had to TACKLE one of them in order to get them on my team. Did not go so well. Someone had to join me out of pity.

Also, I'm really out of shape, so I couldn't run very fast. However, I turned out to be really good at grabbing someone and holding on until another stronger teammate could tackle them.

Let's just say, I emailed my mom today asking her how to get grass stains out of my clothes.

What a beautiful dream that could flash on the screen in a blink of an eye and be gone from me...

I got back from my trip to Amsterdam late two nights ago and was up at 7am the next morning and this morning for all day Julius Caesar rehearsals. Also I have a cold. Definition of a rude awakening.

Thankfully, I hate flying... so I took a train to Brussels and then a bus with Leah to Amsterdam. No volcano was gonna mess with my trip.

Amsterdam is my new favorite place in the universe. Okay, well it's tied with sitting on a hammock, overlooking a forest in the Dominican Republic. It's my new favorite city definitely.


It was so beautiful and sunny out almost every day... On Saturday, we walked around the Jordaan and everyone was out on their little front stoops, playing with their families and their dogs, or reading, or smoking a pipe, etc.... and they were picnicking on their boats with their friends with some wine and food... it looked just like a movie. Leah and I are trying to find a way to move there.

Also, Dutch people are amazing. They are so sweet and were never rude when we asked for directions or got confused or needed to be directed to the nearest "shnack bar" for some potato oorlag.

Favorite moments: Van Gogh Museum, tagging along on a walking tour led by an Australian local, sitting in Vondel Park whilst listening to Lauryn Hill, Indonesian food... there are so many more, I'm just too sleepy and stuffy to think of them.

One of my favorite songs kept running through my head while I was there... probably because it's about Amsterdam and Anne Frank.



Some of the lyrics are:

What a curious life
We have found here tonight
There is music that sounds from the street
There are lights in the clouds
Anna's ghost all around
Hear her voice as it's rolling and ringing through me
Soft and sweet
How the notes all bend and reach above the trees

Just some random thoughts...

Why can't I do an English accent? I've been here for more than six months, all but two of my friends are English, during term time I'm with said English friends for hours a day... what the hell?? All of them can do American accents! Granted, they sound WAY too nasally, and it seems like they learn American accents by watching the Hills, or the OC, or Laguna Beach... not everyone in the States speaks like a Valley girl, thank you very much. But they're still better than I am. Is it just because American movies and TV pervade popular culture here, so they hear the accent all the time? Do we really sound THAT nasally?

And sometimes, when my friends want a laugh, they ask me to do an English accent... and I end up sounding like an idiot and possibly insulting them. All I can do is the "Chah-lay" from the Charlie Bit Me youtube video. I actually do that really well.

I'm just really upset by this whole thing, though.

You know how a lot of times in movies the villains or antagonists are played by English actors? Yeah I didn't notice that either.  Kind of pisses some English people off, actually. The theory is that Hollywood likes sophisticated villains, and what spells sophistication better than English accents? Ready for a list? Here we go...
- Die Hard
- Mission Impossible 2
- Matilda
- Mrs. Doubtfire 
- Rush Hour
- The Rocky Horror Picture Show
- North by Northwest
- Jumanji
There are many more, I just can't think of them. In TV shows, too. In Friends, Ross' horrible wife who makes him stay away from Rachel is English (ooooh my flatmates hate that).

So why can't I do the accent yet? I've picked up the intonation (as Bethy will tell you), and some words and phrases, but I can't get the BLOODY ACCENT.

Teehee.

I would like to work the word "odious" into my vocabulary...

Here I am in London Town, more specifically, in Golders Green, the super Jewish part of the city. I arrived Thursday and my friends immediately took me to a shwarma place, followed by a bakery where I got rugelach (I love friends who feed me). Everything was delicious and reminded me of the *ahem* good ol' days back at Tehiyah. I'm staying with my friend, Abi, and hanging out with a lot of my friends from Warwick... lots of them live in or around London.

I saw Liz for little while on Saturday... We went to Platform 9 3/4, to the Tate Museum (not my favorite museum here, as it turns out), and to St. Paul's to feed the birds. She has good Granada stories... I wanna go there. It sounds warm and sunny... I wonder what that's like...

My friends had a little get together the other night... made some bolognese, drank some wine, went to Tesco to grab some dessert. It was really nice... I like London. Maybe I'll go to grad school here? King's College has a Shakespeare Studies MA... you take classes at the Globe and the program's students get the stage all to themselves on Wednesday nights. What a life that would be.

Now I'm hanging out at Abi's house. Watching some Pride and Prejudice. Swooning over Colin Firth. Eating some kosher for Passover chocolate. Snuggling on a comfy couch.

I spoke to Bethy and Eyal on Skype the other day, who made me realize that while I haven't picked up the accent, I have picked up the intonations. I can hear it, I just can't control it! It'll go away once I get back to California and people make fun of me...

Silby out.

Sort your life out...

That's one of my favorite sayings here.... and it's also what I need to do.

For the past two weeks, I felt like my life was spinning wildly out of control, but in a good way. The Taming of the Shrew performances were on Friday and Saturday and I had 8500 words due in for Monday... so for the past two weeks, when I wasn't in rehearsals, I was researching and writing. I haven't been getting much sleep, my room looks like a tornado hit it, I have no food left, and I think I'm getting a cold. But it was all worth it. The performances went so well (lots of people told me afterward that it was their favorite thing they'd seen this year), and I handed in my essays yesterday, on time and with more than enough words. Now I can relax and write my blog again.

I have a lot of great things planned for the next month, so I'm pretty excited. I'm going to Stratford with friends to walk around and then see King Lear, followed by a sleepover. Next weekend I'm staying with a friend in London and doing Passover dinner with her and her family and seeing some musicals. Also, that weekend Liz will be in London so I'll get to see her and we can explore London together! I haven't seen her in what seems like years. Then, my friend Meagan and I are going to roam around England... maybe do some Lake District, some Cotswolds, some Brighton, we don't really know yet. AND THEN (drum roll please) Leah and I are going to Amsterdam in April!

More fantastic events coming up in my life:

I think I can travel around during third term as well, when I'm not taking tests, writing essays or "revising" (which basically means studying). During third term, there's this festival called Warwick Student Art Festival, where students can show some art, dance, and of course, put on plays. I'm already signed up to dramaturg The Canterbury Tales and The Servant of Two Masters, which I saw in Ashland last summer. There's also going to be a Shakespeare Week in third term. For that, I've been dramaturging Julius Caesar and I'm teaming with my friend to direct a sonnet and a scene.

So, yeah. That's my unsorted life. Today I'm going to return my library books, go shopping for food, clean my room, and maybe do some laundry.

We've been quoting Extras a lot lately and I thought I'd share it with whoever is reading this. Extras is possibly one of the most painfully hilarious shows ever made.

Kissing the Lipless

I have made a change in my life, a significant change.

My friends and I were having dinner a little while back and as we were eating I received a text message. I said something along the lines of, "Aw I love how English people put an 'x' at the end of their text messages," to which my friend replied sadly, "Yeah.... you don't."

Almost every text message I get, or facebook message for that matter, has at least one 'x' at the end, typically more.... Sometimes it's 'xx,' 'xX,' 'XXx,' etc. I never really thought too much about it, just thought it was cute, but apparently not putting at least one 'x' is a bit of a faux pas. My friends told me it was fine, since anyone who text messages me knows I'm American and may not know the ways of the 'x.' I went home and asked my flatmate Grace why she had not informed me of this cultural difference, as she usually does. Here are some rules she explained to me:

1. If you send a message to someone and you don't put a kiss at the end, it implies that you are upset with them.
2. It is okay not to put a kiss at the end if it's something like, "see you in five," but it's better to just do it anyways. 
3. Some boys do not put a kiss at the end, in which case it is appropriate to refrain from placing a kiss at the end of a message.
4. If you are texting a boy and you don't know him well, it is also appropriate to refrain from kissing. If he responds with an 'x,' you must end with a kiss from thereon out.
5. Many people have trademark kisses. For instance, my friend ends her text messages with 'XxX,' another with 'xxx,' and my friend James ends his with "jx."
6. If you are having a long texting conversation with someone, it is acceptable after a while to ceasefire on the 'x's. But you still should just in case.
7. Basically, just always put an 'x' at the end of your text messages.

There are way more. These are just the ones I can remember before my morning coffee has kicked in. I felt pretty terrible for a while... I didn't want my friends, even for a split second before they remembered I'm American, to think I was upset with them.

I keep wondering how this evolved.... I mean, really. How long have text messages been in existence? Less than ten years? And already there are so many rules and standards involved. Do we have stuff like this in the States?

It took a while to get into the habit, but I now put an 'x' at the end of my text messages. At first, my friends would message me back, "Nice x!" --- even the friends I hadn't spoken to about it.

I feel like a much better human being now, and a much better Anglophile.

Stop looking at me, swan!

Just got back from a weekend in Paris.... man my life is tough.

I was only there for a few days, but it was wonderful and relaxing.

I love the really well dressed businessmen on the train to London, who set up shop with their businessmen friends (not being sexist... I've only ever seen men). They have newspapers out, working on some chart things on their laptops, talking on their cell phones. Then I follow them off the train and walk to St. Pancras... passing by the British Library, some red telephone boxes, and nice looking pubs. This time, after I went past security and passport control in London, I saw that they had some performers set up in the Eurostar... terminal? Is that what you call that? Where I wait for my train. They were playing jazzed-up Disney songs to entertain the children who were waiting to go to Disneyland Paris.

Yesterday when I got on my Eurostar train in Paris, there was someone standing at the door to check my ticket.... which has never happened before. I thought maybe they upped the security for some reason. Then I got into my train and saw that the seats were bigger than the ones I usually sit in and they had leather headrests. I thought maybe they changed up the seats in the past two days.  Then I fell asleep for a few minutes, woke up and saw people drinking wine and soda all around me. I never get wine or soda on my Eurostar trip! I kind of let myself accept at that point that I was in a higher class seating.... but how the hell did that happen? I don't even know how to book first class seating on the website and I certainly did not pay for a first class ticket. So I started feeling guilty, like I had done something wrong and at any minute someone would walk past, see I was an impostor and kick me off the train by the coast of France. Next thing I know, a server walks by and hands me a tray with delicious food on it. I didn't respond at first because I thought I didn't deserve delicious food after conning my way into first class, but then he motioned for me to put my tray up... and I didn't want to look silly. This will remain a mystery for the rest of my life. Was it just a glitch in the matrix? How can it happen again? My seat was so big I could curl up in the fetal position!

Back in Warwickland now... and my workload is getting pretty heavy. In order to stay on top of things, I'm going to need to read about 200 pages a night, while attending lectures, rehearsals for two plays and one radio show, production meetings... and hopefully I'll find some time in there to eat and breathe. I'm not hoping for much sleep, though. Sleep will be put on the back burner. Anyone know a way to increase the number of hours in a day to 30? Maybe 32? It would be much appreciated.

Good to be back, though. Even if I was threatened by a swan today (and yes, I stood my ground and acted tough, but it was really big and wagged its tail at me, so I ran away). They aren't as pretty when they're out of the water.

Antarctica, my only living relative...

One of my favorite songs in the entire universe.



Happy Anna Howard Shaw Day, everyone!

For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool...

"The sweat wis lashing oafay Sick Boy; he wis trembling. Ah wi jist sitting thair, focusing oan the telly"

Who knew I would learn how to read another dialect while I was studying here? That's the first line from Trainspotting, by the way. I just started it and, minus the freaky cover, I'm liking it a lot. In my Devolutionary British Fiction class, we read a lot of novels written in different dialects... just read one written in Glaswegian, which was easier to understand than these junkies, but I guess my professor was just easing us into it.

Tonight, I walked into my kitchen, starving, and tried to cook something in the microwave.... which wouldn't turn on. I then looked to the television, which would also not turn on. Everything, minus the lights and stove was dead. I kicked some chairs and tore down the fliers on our billboard which were covering up the number I needed to call.... you know how I get when I'm hungry. I saw that I needed to call the security desk, since it was past 8pm. After ringing for about five minutes (what if there was a serious emergency??) a man picked up.


Security Man: Hello, Warwick Security.
Me: Hi, this is the number I'm supposed to call for kitchen power outages, right?
Security Man: It appears so.
Me: Um.. right. Well my kitchen has a power outage. Not the lights, just the TV, microwave, toaster--
Security Man: So anything connected to a socket?
Me: Yes. I live in flat --
Security Man: Are you American or Canadian?

THIS. THIS IS WHY WHEN MY FRIENDS ASK ME TO CALL SOME KIND OF SERVICE, I SAY NO. Why is my nationality in any way related to my kitchen not working properly? Shouldn't you get me off the phone asap so you can call someone to fix my kitchen before my food spoils?

Me: I'm American.
Security Man: It's obvious.
Me: Right. Well I live in flat tw--
Security Man: It's a lovely accent.
Me: Thank you. Will someone come to fix my kitchen soon?
Security Man: Well, you're going to need to tell me what flat you're in first! Hahaha!

Not funny, Security Man. Not funny. I was very hungry and on the verge of a meltdown. You did not help me. You are a bad Security Man. Terrible, some might say. The worst.

Other than that unfortunate incident, life is pretty damn good. Too much fun is being had here... I went out Friday night with some friends to see a stage rendition of The Triplets of Belleville and then went out dancing at this event at the union. At the end of the night, the DJ said, "Alright, well we need to close up now, so we thought we'd play a song we can all sing a long to." They then proceeded to play "Hey Jude," and everyone got in one big hugging circle. I took a little video. Sorry about the shaking...

Brussels: A Two-Part Tale

All their personal belongings have intertwined.... a.k.a. part one

I hopped on my train to Brussels on Thursday night, which ended up being delayed half an hour because *I think* the train before us got stuck under the ocean for a bit? But thankfully, we exited the ocean safely and quickly.

It was really nice to see Leah again. And the house she lives in is fantastic, minus the lack of heating which was compensated for by some snuggle time and lots of blankets. The first night we ate dinner, drank maybe too much, went to a karaoke bar.... it was really really fun.... I sang "Mr. Big Stuff" and...yeah. Enough said.

The next day, we had a lazy morning... drank some coffee, ate some cereal, etc. Then we went downtown with Leah's super sweet roommate, Jess. We went to the Magritte Museum, which was really interesting. I had kind of the same feeling I get when I go to any art museum, which is, "Well, it's pretty... I just don't understand what they're saying." I kind of got Magritte though. Something about defamiliarization and disassociating words with images... I dunno. I'm not an art history person. I got some nice postcards though, including the "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" one... it was a must-have.

We walked around some more, went to a bar that has two thousand different kinds of beer, and then fell asleep early, as we had to wake up at 5:30am the next day....

I got soul but I'm not a soldier... a.k.a. part two


Leah is on a CIEE program, meaning she and all the other participants from across the states get to go on occasional excursions. Luckily, I was allowed to accompany them on their trip to.... The Battle of the Bulge!

The bus left Brussels at 7:30am, so I fell asleep pretty much right as I sat down, with my head against the window and one of Leah's earbuds in my ear. I woke up to the sound of bombs, screaming, and gunfire in my right ear and Joni Mitchell in my left. Turned out they were playing an episode of Band of Brothers on the coach bus to get us in the mood.

It was a long, war-themed day, complete with cemeteries, army bases, and foxholes. It was also the first time I had been around a large group of Americans in about five months. Reverse culture shock? I think so. But they fed us well and it was nice to sit and eat with Leah, Jess, and their French friend who, when unable to remember the word "robe" said, "you know, like Big Lebowski?"

I was sad to leave Leah, but I think we're going to travel somewhere exciting over spring break.

And now I'm back in England, on campus, on my computer, with my coffee. I had a crap day yesterday but tea with the flatmates and drinks with the Shakespeare folks made it all better.

I'm going to go do some research now so I can sound smart in my first rehearsal today. Last night, I actually got my friends admit that I am always always right.

I like it here.

Dishes, etc.

We've been having some... sanitation issues in our flat. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday cleaners come to make our kitchen sparkle. But, if people have left too much stuff out, they won't clean. If this happens for a week or more running... which it has... they're liable to fine us. I am officially the kitchen coordinator, which means I am the one who has had to start yelling at people to pick up their crap. It's not hard. And really... it's just the boys that are unwilling. The girls clean their stuff up right after we use it.

Yesterday, to great whining, I instated a new law: clean up your stuff, or I will move it to right outside your door.

My newly appointed vice kitchen coordinator, Anjlee, the Dick Cheney to my W, assisted me in this task and I am happy to say... we have a clean kitchen today! Although I did get a pile of a pizza pan and frying pan in front of my door from someone who was unhappy I mistook these dishes for theirs. But really, when it's between two or three people, what could we do other than split it evenly and hope we got it right?

I should go into politics. Screw literature. When has literature cleaned a kitchen?

This song has been my mantra lately, and today I found the music video... starring Jason Schwartzman and Marc Wahlberg. It's funnier if you've seen I Heart Huckabees (which everyone should).



Lyrics:

It’s something unattainable
That you can’t live without
And now the unexplainable
Has you riddled with doubt

Things begin, things decay
And you’ve gotta find a way
To be okay
But it you want to spend the day
Wondering what it’s all about
Go and knock yourself out

Why we're put in this mess
Is anybody’s guess
It might be a test or it might not be anything
You need to worry about
But if you’re still in doubt
Go and knock yourself out

And if a doubledecker bus crashes into us...

My professor mentioned the Smiths yesterday in class while talking about the 80's, AND I just re-watched (500) Days of Summer two nights ago, so I felt some Smiths lyrics were appropriate for my title today.

I'm feeling pretty good. With the help of hundreds of cups of coffee and tea, thousands of biscuits, and lots of whining, I finally turned in my 5000 word essay on gender and nature yesterday, and I think it went okay... I won't know until I get my grade. And a week ago I turned in a 2500 word essay... lots o' work lately.

These past couple of weeks have been horribly busy, due to the ginormous essays and casting for The Taming of the Shrew... which has been officially cast all of.... ten minutes ago. People look at me funny here when I say "ginormous," and I have to explain that it's a portmanteau of "giant" and "enormous" and that Lewis Carroll would be proud of me.

And to think my friends call me "nerd."

Casting was really awkward! Theater is a tough business. Also, I'm not as good at judging people as I thought I would be. It was really difficult for me not to show emotions during auditions, so I wound up *always* covering my mouth with my hands in some creative way. I was either eating something, drinking something, or just holding my head in my hands. Next week, casting for Julius Caesar begins, which should bring in an interesting crowd.

And my reward for all the hard work....... I leave on Thursday to go to Brussels for the weekend to visit Leah!! We haven't seen each other in five months and thirteen days.... but who's counting?

Life ain't bad. Other than the mess in the kitchen. And the dude playing the bongos upstairs. And the two other essays I have due in for this term.

I just got back from one of my favorite classes. It's all girls (no boys wanted to be in a Feminist Perspectives on Literature module, I guess), really relaxed, and our new tutor is really sweet. There are a group of us that go get tea after class every week and talk about silly things. Last week, all the other girls complained about their younger sisters and how they steal their clothes and purses while they're at university. I kept my mouth shut. And I didn't tell them until today that I'm a younger sister.


At Wisconsin, I've never been asked to go get tea or coffee or anything after class... and it's such a normal thing here. It's really sweet. I decided that when I go back to Madison, I'll start asking people in my discussions if they want to go get a Spotted Cow on the terrace with me. I'm bringing this back home with me... and Wisconsin-izing it a little.

God Save the Queen

There's a drinking game here that I thought I should share with you all.

If someone is holding their drink, but not drinking it, then you drop a penny in it and start singing, "God Save the Queen." That someone needs to finish their drink by the time you've finished singing or else the Queen drowns. I'm not positive, but I think people generally sing just the first verse of the song... which doesn't leave much time... which I guess is the point.

An odd form of patriotism, I think.

So you can play at home, here are the lyrics to "God Save the Queen." For us Yanks, we know the tune as "My Country, 'Tis of Thee"

God save our gracious Queen,
Long live our noble Queen,
God save the Queen:
Send her victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us:
God save the Queen.


O Lord, our God, arise,
Scatter her enemies,
And make them fall.
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
On thee our hopes we fix:
God save the Queen.


Thy choicest gifts in store,
On her be pleased to pour;
Long may she reign:
May she defend our laws,
And ever give us cause
To sing with heart and voice
God save the Queen

From every latent foe,
From the assassins blow,
God save the Queen!
O'er her thine arm extend,
For Britain's sake defend,
Our mother, prince, and friend,
God save the Queen!

Amen.

White Winter Hymnal

It was a beautiful night. The slushy snow of the day had been stamped down, so now all Hannah could see when she looked out the window of her first floor dorm room (right next to the entrance) were the ducks playing in the pure white.  While all of her flatmates went out to Top Banana, a popular weekly club night, Hannah stayed in, reading the Scottish epic, Lanark, a novel which will soon be added to her Favorite Books list. It had been a long day of endless running around, going to lectures, and attending meetings for the upcoming Shakespeare submissions meeting.  Lately, she had been doing research for the four plays, scheduling meetings with the directors, and writing little biographical blurbs about herself in the third person. But the day was over now and it was time for Hannah to remember why it was she studied English in the first place: a love of good books. She had the peaceful, easy feeling of someone who is inside on a cold, winter night. It was one in the morning, the heater was making knocking noises, the birds were chirping, Hannah was snuggled up on her bed, and the procession of drunkards began.

Drunken English Girl: THEY'RE MY F***ING KEYS!
English Guy: Oh my god....
Drunken English Girl: I F***ING LIVE HERE, NOT YOU! GIVE ME MY F***ING KEYS!
English Guy: Just look at yourself!
Drunken English Girl: F***K YOU, YOU PRICK! Leave me alone...
English Guy: Just get in the building, you drunken mess.
Drunken English Girl: SHUT THE F*** UP! WHO... WHO... WHO ARE YOU.... TO...
English Guy: Bloody hell, just get in the f***ing building.
Drunken English Girl: DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I HATE YOU!
English Guy: LOOK AT YOURSELF! AFTER ALL MY FAMILY HAS DONE FOR YOU, AND JUST LOOK AT YOURSELF! YOU'RE A F***ING MESS!
Drunken English Girl: F*** YOU
English Guy: Is this really how you want to end our relationship? A disgusting drunken mess?

The lover's quarrel continued on for the better part of an hour. At one point, Drunken English Girl was locked out of the building by English Guy, who proceeded to yell at her from a window upstairs... a perverted Romeo & Juliet if ever there was one.  Meanwhile, the birds either stopped chirping or were frightened away, the heater had stopped knocking, and Hannah had put her headphones on.

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes...

So, I don't know if I mentioned this before... but about two minutes into my Morocco trip (when I was on the bus to the Coventry train station), my iPod kicked the bucket. It started making some clicking noises, paused during my Mountain Goats song, and just died. Jeff let me use his iPhone to listen to music, so it was okay. But lately, since my return to campus, I have had to endure the excruciating hardship of walking to and from the library every single day without my iPod. My mother FedExed me a spankin' new one, but the student post office was closed until yesterday.

I woke up today and found the wonderful slip in my mailbox, telling me that my package had arrived.  To make matters even better (or so I thought at the time), when I stepped outside it was snowing. It was the first snow since I've been here.  It wasn't snowflake snow, just ordinary snow falling... and the best part: the snow on the ground was less than an inch deep. No slipping, no trudging, nothing. "So," I said to myself, "as my reward for my research at the library today, I will allow myself to leave at five to four to go pick up my package with my new iPod, only to return after dropping it off at my room." At five to four, I packed up my things, but left some of my heavier books, and headed towards the student post room. Upon arrival, I was met with a note on the front door stating, "Due to poor weather conditions, the student post room has closed at 3pm. We apologise for any inconvenience." I proceeded to kick the door as hard as I could, make some exasperated noise, and storm off. England, meet me in the next paragraph.

Listen, England, I love you. You know I love you. I love you so much that I want to come back here for grad school. But there was barely half an inch of snow on the ground. How does that impair the post room people's ability to look at my package slip, walk across the room, pick up a package, walk back across the room, and hand me said package? Okay, okay... are you worried about driving? Because I was noticing that people were driving very slowly today... I think your tires can handle less than an inch of snow. C'mon, England! You are Great Britain, aren't you? There is no reason to freak out over a little bit of snow. You'd think after all this time --- 927 AD was it? --- you would have learned how to handle a little crystalline water ice precipitation (thanks, wikipedia).

Tomorrow, I plan to go the student post room before I head to the library. But who knows? If it keeps snowing like this until then, there might be TWO inches of snow on the ground.

Silver lining: everyone is too scared to drive their cars, so there was no line at Tesco.

"If I be waspish, best beware my sting"

I think I figured out how to embed videos in my blog! Yay!

So, I'm on campus.... spending most of my day in the library (or the LIE-bree) researching for two epic papers and for The Taming of the Shrew, which my friend is hoping to put on this term. I was also asked to be dramaturg for Hamlet and Julius Caesar .... so I've got my work cut out for me.

I'm still the only sign of life in this giant dorm and it's starting to creep me out. Maybe I should stop watching scary X-Files and Doctor Who episodes at night.

Nothing new or interesting to report, really. Just wanted to see if I could embed videos.

New discovery: English people can do this funny thing where they hyper-pronounce the "t" at the end of a word and it automatically makes whatever they are saying really funny.

Happy 2010, by the way!

I've got a good feeling about this year....