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....