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.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Antarctica, my only living relative...
One of my favorite songs in the entire universe.
Happy Anna Howard Shaw Day, everyone!
Happy Anna Howard Shaw Day, everyone!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
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...
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...
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)