Well, as I said before, I would be updating my blog... well, I haven't. I'll be getting on that soon... Probably within the month...
Since I've gotten back, life has kicked in, so to speak. And it kicks. Not in a bad way, just in a way that sort of catches you between the old bits of Adam that made the Eve and forces you towards things you don't necessarily like. But not bad.
Bad is a subjective term, anyway. Bad and Good should only be used when one's opinion is not going to make a spot of difference. Like an opinion on movies. Good or Bad? It doesn't matter, they can't change the movie now, and the only purpose having a completely subjective and totally pointless opinion of the goodness or badness of a film is to encourage or discourage other people from seeing it.
Moving on...
I think I left off at when I came home for the holidays, so my next entry will pick up from there.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
More on The Bard
As I mentioned in my "Stratford Cont." blog Shakespeare lived and died all within three miles of his birth place. This brings to mind the "Nuture vs. Nature" controversy. The "Nuture" theory is that people are a product of their environment. The "Nature" theory says that people are a product of their genes and their internal instincts.
Now, there is only one William Shakespeare, even though, I'm sure there have been other writers that were born and died in Stratford, they did not reach the magnitude of Shakespeare. Also, out of all the boys that went to Shakespeare's school, very few have historically risen to signifacance.
I think Shakespeare was naturally a genius. No one else could have accomplished what he accomplished... buy how? Why?
I think he summed it up best in Twelfth Night when he wrote, "Be not afraid of greatness: some people are born great, some acheive greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them." Who knows which is he... or is he all three?
Anyway, just a small digression, a little caveat of what I think of Shakespeare. Or at least what I unconclusively muse to myself about Shakespeare.
Now, there is only one William Shakespeare, even though, I'm sure there have been other writers that were born and died in Stratford, they did not reach the magnitude of Shakespeare. Also, out of all the boys that went to Shakespeare's school, very few have historically risen to signifacance.
I think Shakespeare was naturally a genius. No one else could have accomplished what he accomplished... buy how? Why?
I think he summed it up best in Twelfth Night when he wrote, "Be not afraid of greatness: some people are born great, some acheive greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them." Who knows which is he... or is he all three?
Anyway, just a small digression, a little caveat of what I think of Shakespeare. Or at least what I unconclusively muse to myself about Shakespeare.
Stratford Cont.
Okay, I had a mini-heart attack there... Everything's under control now, though. Phew! That was a close one!
In the morning, I had some extra time after breakfast before we were supposed to meet up for our tour. So, I walked out by the Trinity Church (where Shakespeare is buried), and around the Courtyard (where the theatre was), saw the Oxford rowing team going up and down the Avon with it's coach shouting his syncronizations, and enjoyed the non-aggressiveness of the swans (indeed, the only swans I have ever seen that didn't look like they wanted your intestines for lunch). I curiously looked at the buildings, and was greeted very pleasantly by everyone I met. The people in Stratford I think have been the nicest people I have met in England, as a whole. They are warm, and friendly, look you in the eye and say, "good morning" like they really mean it. I wandered around the streets, admiring the neat, clean houses and gardens and made my way back to the B&B where we all left to walk to our meeting point.
We met up by the American fountain, that was donated by George W. Childs, the publisher, in 1887 in honor of Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee. It looks strikingly like Walt Disney's castle.
We saw a traditionally thatched roof (a lot actually) and daub and wattle houses. Shakespeare's house was attached to his father's glove-making shop, where the needle on the family crest often gets mistaken for a writing pen. Indeed, it is a glovemaker's needle.
We also saw where Shakespeare used to live, or at least, the spot where he used to live. The house apparently had a lot of taxes surrounding it, and one of the tentants (after the Bard's death, obviously), got so fed up about paying his taxes for the property that he tore the place down so no one would have to pay taxes for it again. I was really upset about this, until one of my friends was said, "it's just a house" and yes, they are right. It is just a house.
Anyway, there's a garden there now, which is apparently lovely, but we didn't get to see it because it was under maintenence. Bummer.
Anyway, also in Stratford there's this place where you can see 700 years of English architecture. You stand on a corner, and across the street, there are three buildings in a row: 13th, 14th , and 15th century architecture, then you look across from those buildings and see 16th, 17th, and 18th architecture, then there's a bank in 19th century architecture, and the corner on which you are standing houses a 20th century building. This, to me, is crazy. Nothing in the United States even gets CLOSE to having that kind of history in one spot. I think it's interesting how the English just casually stroll by, or live in their country and never even breath so much of their history. I don't know if it's because not many of them know, or if they find it boring, or if they don't want to brag. But I bet if the U.S. had that much history behind it, more people would visit. But then again, England is a branch of U.S. history, and England is a branch of Roman history, and is a branch of Greek, Ottoman, etc. etc. This history thing just
won't stop growing!!!
There was also the Boy's school where Shakespeare attended (CRAZY!), which is still running (CRAZIER STILL!), with students (AGH! SUPER CRAZY!) and the adjacent chapel, which has a stained glass window dedicated to JFK (why?). America really is everywhere. There are never ending references to Shakespear's plays, statues, bass reliefs, carvings, decorations, etc. But they aren't brand new, and they aren't flashy in a touristy way. A lot of them are hidden, and you actually have to look for them to see them. One of the things I liked best about Stratford was there weren't a lot of signs like, "SHAKESPEARE WAS BORN HERE!" or "THIS WAY TO ANNE HATHAWAY'S HOUSE!" or "TAKE THE STRATFORD TOUR!"... in all honesty, Stratford is too small. Buses wouldn't be able to get up and down the streets (thank goodness), and the whole town is not the type of spot to attract a lot of tourists (thank heavens).
After our tour concluded, by our lovely tour guide, we had more free time. So, I walked to Trinity Church again, and this time went inside to see it's most famous deceased inhabitant. It's a lovely church overall, but Shakespeare's effigee sitting on the floor seemed to make it more grandeur. I write this with humor, but that's only because I don't want to get bogged down with the stupendous drama of it all. I mean, I hate to sound stupid, but I'll say it anyway, Shakespeare's grave is just like all the others around it. The same length, and the same depth (probably), and made from the same stone. I stood there and tried to feel something magnificent. But, all I felt was kind of awkward because I was the only person in the whole place. It was a Sunday morning, right after service, and the people were very kind to let me in for free since I showed up so early, but it was a little weird being the only one there. But very nice, I'm not complaining. It's just somehow, without people all around me talking and making a commotion, I actually had a little time to reflect on the importance of what I had witnessed that day. I saw where one of the greatest writers in the English language was born, lived, died, and buried. And it was all within three miles of itself. He was born modestly, lived modestly, died modestly, and was buried modestly, in a modest town. It gives new meaning to the phrase "Grow where you are planted."
I've also been listening to Jakob Dylan, and his song "Something Good this way comes" is new favorite of mine... mainly because there is a similar line in his song, "The trouble, doll, is not moving mountains, but digging the ground that you're on."
Shakespeare sure dug his turf proficiently... haha, I accidentally spelled "turd" instead of "turf" the first time. Forgive me for that.
I bought a Chicken Tiki Marsala panini at a nice local cafe shop, where the people were very nice, and I ate it's very hot contents whilst walking down the street. An elderly gentleman said "Good morning!" to me and asked, "Ohh, my, it looks like you're enjoying that. Is it good?" I said it was, and he said, "I might have to try one then. Good bye!"... I love old people.
I walked around some MORE, and past a Christian Scientist worship place. Which was weird, because there was a sign that said, "Jesus Christ, The original Christian Scientist"... Well, that's one way to try and resolve the conflict between evolutionists and creationists, or atheists and christians, or scientists and holistics... Very interesting.
The "suburbs" of Stratford, are just white short buildings that look like they've been there for a hundred years (or longer), but all very clean, very white, and very quiet.
I made my way back to the B&B where we got back on the bus, and out of town. We drove past Warwick Castle on the way back to Brighton, and I explored it's Royal History, climbed to it's highest tower, and walked through it's rooms, marveled at the collection of armor and Irish Elk antlers (HUGE!), and we took a tour of the dungeon. One girl got too scared to go in. But it was just kind of hokey. It was a tour about the medieval dungeon practices and such, about torture and everything, even though torture was not widely practiced in England. However, I got "killed" in a staged stunt. I got picked out from the crowd by the "mad" doctor's assistant or whatever. Mary's husband got picked on a lot. mostly for being one of two males in the entire group of thirty, and also because he was tall, I think. Anyway, I felt badly for him as he obviously did not volunteer himself. Anyway, it only lasted about 15 minutes. I enjoyed the rest of the castle much better.
Click on the link to get more info.
Then we were all worn out and I think I slept most of the way home.
I liked Stratford-Upon-Avon a lot, and if I were to live in any town in England, it would be that one. If I were to live in any British town, I would probably choose Edinburgh. But, anyway, all for now! Must go eat something. I'm starving. I have updated this blog for the last two hours. Hope you enjoy my "hard" work!
Thanks for reading, and all the best!
Hannah
In the morning, I had some extra time after breakfast before we were supposed to meet up for our tour. So, I walked out by the Trinity Church (where Shakespeare is buried), and around the Courtyard (where the theatre was), saw the Oxford rowing team going up and down the Avon with it's coach shouting his syncronizations, and enjoyed the non-aggressiveness of the swans (indeed, the only swans I have ever seen that didn't look like they wanted your intestines for lunch). I curiously looked at the buildings, and was greeted very pleasantly by everyone I met. The people in Stratford I think have been the nicest people I have met in England, as a whole. They are warm, and friendly, look you in the eye and say, "good morning" like they really mean it. I wandered around the streets, admiring the neat, clean houses and gardens and made my way back to the B&B where we all left to walk to our meeting point.
We met up by the American fountain, that was donated by George W. Childs, the publisher, in 1887 in honor of Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee. It looks strikingly like Walt Disney's castle.
We saw a traditionally thatched roof (a lot actually) and daub and wattle houses. Shakespeare's house was attached to his father's glove-making shop, where the needle on the family crest often gets mistaken for a writing pen. Indeed, it is a glovemaker's needle.
We also saw where Shakespeare used to live, or at least, the spot where he used to live. The house apparently had a lot of taxes surrounding it, and one of the tentants (after the Bard's death, obviously), got so fed up about paying his taxes for the property that he tore the place down so no one would have to pay taxes for it again. I was really upset about this, until one of my friends was said, "it's just a house" and yes, they are right. It is just a house.
Anyway, there's a garden there now, which is apparently lovely, but we didn't get to see it because it was under maintenence. Bummer.
Anyway, also in Stratford there's this place where you can see 700 years of English architecture. You stand on a corner, and across the street, there are three buildings in a row: 13th, 14th , and 15th century architecture, then you look across from those buildings and see 16th, 17th, and 18th architecture, then there's a bank in 19th century architecture, and the corner on which you are standing houses a 20th century building. This, to me, is crazy. Nothing in the United States even gets CLOSE to having that kind of history in one spot. I think it's interesting how the English just casually stroll by, or live in their country and never even breath so much of their history. I don't know if it's because not many of them know, or if they find it boring, or if they don't want to brag. But I bet if the U.S. had that much history behind it, more people would visit. But then again, England is a branch of U.S. history, and England is a branch of Roman history, and is a branch of Greek, Ottoman, etc. etc. This history thing just
won't stop growing!!!
There was also the Boy's school where Shakespeare attended (CRAZY!), which is still running (CRAZIER STILL!), with students (AGH! SUPER CRAZY!) and the adjacent chapel, which has a stained glass window dedicated to JFK (why?). America really is everywhere. There are never ending references to Shakespear's plays, statues, bass reliefs, carvings, decorations, etc. But they aren't brand new, and they aren't flashy in a touristy way. A lot of them are hidden, and you actually have to look for them to see them. One of the things I liked best about Stratford was there weren't a lot of signs like, "SHAKESPEARE WAS BORN HERE!" or "THIS WAY TO ANNE HATHAWAY'S HOUSE!" or "TAKE THE STRATFORD TOUR!"... in all honesty, Stratford is too small. Buses wouldn't be able to get up and down the streets (thank goodness), and the whole town is not the type of spot to attract a lot of tourists (thank heavens).
After our tour concluded, by our lovely tour guide, we had more free time. So, I walked to Trinity Church again, and this time went inside to see it's most famous deceased inhabitant. It's a lovely church overall, but Shakespeare's effigee sitting on the floor seemed to make it more grandeur. I write this with humor, but that's only because I don't want to get bogged down with the stupendous drama of it all. I mean, I hate to sound stupid, but I'll say it anyway, Shakespeare's grave is just like all the others around it. The same length, and the same depth (probably), and made from the same stone. I stood there and tried to feel something magnificent. But, all I felt was kind of awkward because I was the only person in the whole place. It was a Sunday morning, right after service, and the people were very kind to let me in for free since I showed up so early, but it was a little weird being the only one there. But very nice, I'm not complaining. It's just somehow, without people all around me talking and making a commotion, I actually had a little time to reflect on the importance of what I had witnessed that day. I saw where one of the greatest writers in the English language was born, lived, died, and buried. And it was all within three miles of itself. He was born modestly, lived modestly, died modestly, and was buried modestly, in a modest town. It gives new meaning to the phrase "Grow where you are planted."
I've also been listening to Jakob Dylan, and his song "Something Good this way comes" is new favorite of mine... mainly because there is a similar line in his song, "The trouble, doll, is not moving mountains, but digging the ground that you're on."
Shakespeare sure dug his turf proficiently... haha, I accidentally spelled "turd" instead of "turf" the first time. Forgive me for that.
I bought a Chicken Tiki Marsala panini at a nice local cafe shop, where the people were very nice, and I ate it's very hot contents whilst walking down the street. An elderly gentleman said "Good morning!" to me and asked, "Ohh, my, it looks like you're enjoying that. Is it good?" I said it was, and he said, "I might have to try one then. Good bye!"... I love old people.
I walked around some MORE, and past a Christian Scientist worship place. Which was weird, because there was a sign that said, "Jesus Christ, The original Christian Scientist"... Well, that's one way to try and resolve the conflict between evolutionists and creationists, or atheists and christians, or scientists and holistics... Very interesting.
The "suburbs" of Stratford, are just white short buildings that look like they've been there for a hundred years (or longer), but all very clean, very white, and very quiet.
I made my way back to the B&B where we got back on the bus, and out of town. We drove past Warwick Castle on the way back to Brighton, and I explored it's Royal History, climbed to it's highest tower, and walked through it's rooms, marveled at the collection of armor and Irish Elk antlers (HUGE!), and we took a tour of the dungeon. One girl got too scared to go in. But it was just kind of hokey. It was a tour about the medieval dungeon practices and such, about torture and everything, even though torture was not widely practiced in England. However, I got "killed" in a staged stunt. I got picked out from the crowd by the "mad" doctor's assistant or whatever. Mary's husband got picked on a lot. mostly for being one of two males in the entire group of thirty, and also because he was tall, I think. Anyway, I felt badly for him as he obviously did not volunteer himself. Anyway, it only lasted about 15 minutes. I enjoyed the rest of the castle much better.
Click on the link to get more info.
Then we were all worn out and I think I slept most of the way home.
I liked Stratford-Upon-Avon a lot, and if I were to live in any town in England, it would be that one. If I were to live in any British town, I would probably choose Edinburgh. But, anyway, all for now! Must go eat something. I'm starving. I have updated this blog for the last two hours. Hope you enjoy my "hard" work!
Thanks for reading, and all the best!
Hannah
The Month of December-- Seven Sisters to Oxford/Stratford-Upon-Avon
Friday, December 4th was absolutely glorious. I am still glowing with the recollection. Laura, Harman, Navjot, Jen, and I went to the Seven Sisters chalk cliffs. The day could not have been finer for the season, and the scenery could not have been more beautiful if it... well, for anything. The cliffs and the downs have such pleasing contours, and the clouds hung about in all the right places. I felt as if there was nothing and nowhere else on Earth where I would be happier in those minutes we spent there. All of us were happy, and we were all relaxed and taking it in in the most selfless way possible. Recalling my thoughts, I realize I was not worried of concerned about anything. Which is weird for me. There was not a single negative thought the entire time. "The stars all seemed to be aligned" -- listening to The Killers whilst writing this.
We returned to Brighton and dined at Fat Leo's, where the Italian food is genuine, and always a treat. I think it is my favorite so far, as it is delicious, fairly priced, and always staffed with good humor. Afterwards, I went to frisbee practice, which was wet, and slightly painful, but entirely worth it. I think the game was a personal best, although I had no idea whilst I was playing. I was too focused.
Today (Dec. 5th), we are on our way to Oxford, and then Stratford-Upon-Avon where we will see the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Arabian Nights. But, for now, we are on the bus.
** after this, I wrote a lot of stuff which I do not agree with now. One of them being, "I love all the imperfect because anyone who values only perfection must always be bitterly disppointed and angry"... Okay, so, Hannah-Past, take this into consideration: if Gaudi had not been so intent on perfecting his work, had he not been dissatisfied with his own designs and executions of those designs, if he had happily said, "well, it's not perfect!" and laughed off his life's work, we wouldn't have the Sagrada Familia (or at least part of it), or all of his wonderful designs. We may not even have Darth Vader (since Lucas got the idea for Vader's helmet from one of Gaudi's chimneys, according to legend). Anyway, more about Gaudi later... I just wanted to put in the note there that what I write at the time, I don't always believe later. ** Anyway, moving on.
Oxford was interesting. I had venison at a little Thai restaurant So Young, Jisoo, Daye, Kyunghee, and I found wandering around the narrow Oxford streets. It was so spicy, but very delicious. And I was so happy to be eating spicy food, I didn't really care there were tears streaming down my face from the spice. We shopped at the famous Oxford market and I got some Christmas presents, and saw a dead deer hanging in the butcher's shop. Most of the girls were abhorred by the carcass, but I thought it was cool they were selling an entire deer, or at least displaying one. The deer was very small though, compared to Idaho standards, and at first I mistook it for a large goat.
Anyway, we walked all around Oxford and I got to hear the Oxford choir sing at University Church of St. Mary's, which was really cool. I got some video of it, I just have to find it. My videos and pictures are in terrible organizational disarray.
We walked around the Old Library, the outside, obviously, not inside... I saw some students entering it's bowels however, and I thought to myself, "How lucky they are! I would give anything to get my hands on some original publications." Oxford houses at least one copy of every book every published in the English Language. So naturally, the Old Library filled up, and now there are several libraries all over the place, of course. We also walked by the Thames, or a branch of it that runs through Oxford. I liked Oxford, except for the shopping district (which was LUDICROUSLY crowded), it was a nice quiet place. Very old, very quaint, and reminded me a lot of the first Harry Potter movies, and I'm sorry for the kind of mediocre reference, but the first Harry Potter movies have a lot of things in common with Oxford. The narrow streets, the weird places where there is total silence, then there is the leaning buildings, and the straight, flat lawns. The later Harry Potter films look like they were based in Scotland (and indeed they were). But the first two were DEFINITELY based at Oxford.
After wandering around, we got back on the bus and booked it to Stratford-Upon-Avon. We stayed at a delightful little B&B about 2km outside the actual city centre. As old as Oxford is, Stratford seems older. It's a very flat place. There are no hills to speak of. The trees are old, and Shakespeare is everywhere.
Anyway, after we got in from Oxford, we had a little free time before we went to the Courtyard Theatre to see Arabian Nights, so Apryl, Lauren, and I went to eat at the Golden Bee (or something "Bee") pre-show. We got a little bit lost on our way to the theatre, but found it in time.
Arabian Nights was a very interesting show. There was a lot of magic tricks involved. One of the most interesting things was the set. It was a white floor, with a circular, revolving sand pit, which had the awesome quality of being softly luminescent when lit with different lights, instead of a hard reflecting surface. The story was pretty simple: A king has lost faith in women and executes one in his village whenever he has time. One woman decides that the blood shed has gone far enough and requests to be the king's woman for the night (doomed to be beheaded), however, her stories are so good, he must postpone her execution until he is tired of her stories. Her stories are the main part of the play, with the king's story getting mixed up in the middle of it. One night, she runs out of stories, and the king must decide whether to kill her or not. Of course, he loves her and decides not to kill her, and they live happily ever after.
The puppets in the show were beautiful as well. The story was not complex or compelling (I think it's more like a children's play), but the sets were beautiful, the acting was good, and I had a good time overall.
The next morning, we had breakfast, and then I went out for a walk, because we weren't supposed to meet up before noon.
And I'm sorry, I wrote a huge description of Stratford, and my computer just deleted it. I'm going to go scream for a little bit and come back to you when I'm all calmed down.
ARGH!
Hannah
We returned to Brighton and dined at Fat Leo's, where the Italian food is genuine, and always a treat. I think it is my favorite so far, as it is delicious, fairly priced, and always staffed with good humor. Afterwards, I went to frisbee practice, which was wet, and slightly painful, but entirely worth it. I think the game was a personal best, although I had no idea whilst I was playing. I was too focused.
Today (Dec. 5th), we are on our way to Oxford, and then Stratford-Upon-Avon where we will see the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Arabian Nights. But, for now, we are on the bus.
** after this, I wrote a lot of stuff which I do not agree with now. One of them being, "I love all the imperfect because anyone who values only perfection must always be bitterly disppointed and angry"... Okay, so, Hannah-Past, take this into consideration: if Gaudi had not been so intent on perfecting his work, had he not been dissatisfied with his own designs and executions of those designs, if he had happily said, "well, it's not perfect!" and laughed off his life's work, we wouldn't have the Sagrada Familia (or at least part of it), or all of his wonderful designs. We may not even have Darth Vader (since Lucas got the idea for Vader's helmet from one of Gaudi's chimneys, according to legend). Anyway, more about Gaudi later... I just wanted to put in the note there that what I write at the time, I don't always believe later. ** Anyway, moving on.
Oxford was interesting. I had venison at a little Thai restaurant So Young, Jisoo, Daye, Kyunghee, and I found wandering around the narrow Oxford streets. It was so spicy, but very delicious. And I was so happy to be eating spicy food, I didn't really care there were tears streaming down my face from the spice. We shopped at the famous Oxford market and I got some Christmas presents, and saw a dead deer hanging in the butcher's shop. Most of the girls were abhorred by the carcass, but I thought it was cool they were selling an entire deer, or at least displaying one. The deer was very small though, compared to Idaho standards, and at first I mistook it for a large goat.
Anyway, we walked all around Oxford and I got to hear the Oxford choir sing at University Church of St. Mary's, which was really cool. I got some video of it, I just have to find it. My videos and pictures are in terrible organizational disarray.
We walked around the Old Library, the outside, obviously, not inside... I saw some students entering it's bowels however, and I thought to myself, "How lucky they are! I would give anything to get my hands on some original publications." Oxford houses at least one copy of every book every published in the English Language. So naturally, the Old Library filled up, and now there are several libraries all over the place, of course. We also walked by the Thames, or a branch of it that runs through Oxford. I liked Oxford, except for the shopping district (which was LUDICROUSLY crowded), it was a nice quiet place. Very old, very quaint, and reminded me a lot of the first Harry Potter movies, and I'm sorry for the kind of mediocre reference, but the first Harry Potter movies have a lot of things in common with Oxford. The narrow streets, the weird places where there is total silence, then there is the leaning buildings, and the straight, flat lawns. The later Harry Potter films look like they were based in Scotland (and indeed they were). But the first two were DEFINITELY based at Oxford.
After wandering around, we got back on the bus and booked it to Stratford-Upon-Avon. We stayed at a delightful little B&B about 2km outside the actual city centre. As old as Oxford is, Stratford seems older. It's a very flat place. There are no hills to speak of. The trees are old, and Shakespeare is everywhere.
Anyway, after we got in from Oxford, we had a little free time before we went to the Courtyard Theatre to see Arabian Nights, so Apryl, Lauren, and I went to eat at the Golden Bee (or something "Bee") pre-show. We got a little bit lost on our way to the theatre, but found it in time.
Arabian Nights was a very interesting show. There was a lot of magic tricks involved. One of the most interesting things was the set. It was a white floor, with a circular, revolving sand pit, which had the awesome quality of being softly luminescent when lit with different lights, instead of a hard reflecting surface. The story was pretty simple: A king has lost faith in women and executes one in his village whenever he has time. One woman decides that the blood shed has gone far enough and requests to be the king's woman for the night (doomed to be beheaded), however, her stories are so good, he must postpone her execution until he is tired of her stories. Her stories are the main part of the play, with the king's story getting mixed up in the middle of it. One night, she runs out of stories, and the king must decide whether to kill her or not. Of course, he loves her and decides not to kill her, and they live happily ever after.
The puppets in the show were beautiful as well. The story was not complex or compelling (I think it's more like a children's play), but the sets were beautiful, the acting was good, and I had a good time overall.
The next morning, we had breakfast, and then I went out for a walk, because we weren't supposed to meet up before noon.
And I'm sorry, I wrote a huge description of Stratford, and my computer just deleted it. I'm going to go scream for a little bit and come back to you when I'm all calmed down.
ARGH!
Hannah
Procrastination
If there's one thing I've learned in England, its that I like to procrastinate.
This is one of the few things that I like that I actually hate.
For example: I have procrastinated writing in this blog because I had other things I didn't want to procrastinate from. Now, I am writing in this blog procrastinating a project I should finish. A vicious cycle.
What would solve my problem is if I worked up a schedule and stuck to it and didn't fiddle about in the grey area of what I "had" to get done.
So, anyway... maybe if I stop procrastinating this blog, I will feel inspired to finish my other projects which are in dire need of attention.
The only thing I have not been putting off for another day has been taking long walks in the sunshine. Mainly because I know that you can't really expect the weather to stay good for you. If only I took the same attitude with my other work!
I am shamefully shameless.
Anyway, in other news, the weather has been great this April so far, and right now, there is a cricket match going on the field outside my window... it's now almost 5pm... they have been playing since about 1:30 and show no signs of giving up yet. The weather is foggier today, but still pleasant over all. I got a nice sun burn yesterday as Apryl, Ed, and I spent about 4 hours in the sun.
Oh well,
I have all of my adventures written down, they're just on paper... so I will transmit them via-keyboard to your screen.
Thanks for reading.
Love,
Hannah
This is one of the few things that I like that I actually hate.
For example: I have procrastinated writing in this blog because I had other things I didn't want to procrastinate from. Now, I am writing in this blog procrastinating a project I should finish. A vicious cycle.
What would solve my problem is if I worked up a schedule and stuck to it and didn't fiddle about in the grey area of what I "had" to get done.
So, anyway... maybe if I stop procrastinating this blog, I will feel inspired to finish my other projects which are in dire need of attention.
The only thing I have not been putting off for another day has been taking long walks in the sunshine. Mainly because I know that you can't really expect the weather to stay good for you. If only I took the same attitude with my other work!
I am shamefully shameless.
Anyway, in other news, the weather has been great this April so far, and right now, there is a cricket match going on the field outside my window... it's now almost 5pm... they have been playing since about 1:30 and show no signs of giving up yet. The weather is foggier today, but still pleasant over all. I got a nice sun burn yesterday as Apryl, Ed, and I spent about 4 hours in the sun.
Oh well,
I have all of my adventures written down, they're just on paper... so I will transmit them via-keyboard to your screen.
Thanks for reading.
Love,
Hannah
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Queer Day
That Thursday, December 3rd was my queer day. In genre and film class, we watched a film about gay teenagers and suicide in L.A. which pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day. Everything that day was abnormal. But normality is always relative. So, I suppose it wasn't any different from other days, however, i still dubbed it my "Queer day". The day just seemed queer to me. but, I had a lot of fun in class, shopping at O'Neill and making Tacos for Ed with Laura and Apryl. I played at the indoor frisbee league which was fun. With the exception of my knees getting kind of achy, frisbee is really improving my health and fitness. Afterwards, Toby, Dom, Sam, Tom, and I went to the Bear, and then to Toby's where we ate pizza and watched the Misfits, which was the perfectly queer ending to a perfectly queer day. I guess we all have queer days every once in a while.
London with So Young
My trip to London on December 1st with my South Korean friend, So Young, could not have been more perfect. We saw the Moctezuma Aztecs exhibit who, technically, belong to the Mexica culture. most of their artwork was commissioned by the Mexica from the Mixtecs, however. So, the Aztecs is actually a misnomer and they called themselves the Mexica and their most famous artwork was actually of Mixtec origin. Kind of confusing, but there you go.
There was one particular piece, a human skull encrusted with turquoise, which was particularly striking. Perhaps this is because it was a real human skull, with teeth still in the jaw and everything, but the turquoise detail was exquisite. Different shades of turquoise were used to define different parts of the mask, and the effect was astonishing. The Mexica, apparently were very fond of the turquoise blue-green color and valued things of this color more than anything else, except maybe for coral colored shell and gold. The gold work was also incredibly detailed and beautifully wrought. The stonework was also very intricate and expertly carved. Many of the artifacts looked as if they had been made yesterday. The pictoral Codex of the Mexica which showed the coming of the Spanish, their rule, the disease, wars, plans, etc. were also interesting. It was a large exhibit and took a couple hours. I kept thinking of my good friend Adriana throughout the whole thing, as I know she would have been so happy to see it all. Plus we went upstairs to see Korean ceramics, which were very nice. So Young and I had such a good time.
We had lunch in the Forum cafe, a little cafe across the street from the museum. It was very good, and then we went to a matinee of the Phantom of the Opera at Her Majesty's Theatre. It was, of course, a great show. The Phantom was at least on par with the Phantom on Broadway, although, it's a little difficult to compare since So Young and I were sitting in the stalls very close to the stage compared to the balcony seat we had in New York City when I went with dad and my family. So, to me, it seemed as if the Phantom was more awesome in London. He was a perfect singer, and a great actor. The visual tricks were also fantastic, the stage crew for that show muct be some of the best in the business. It must be such a difficult show to orchestrate backstage, as well as on stage, and in the pit. I enjoyed it thoroughly, as did So Young. It was her first musical she had seen. What a good one to start with!
There was one particular piece, a human skull encrusted with turquoise, which was particularly striking. Perhaps this is because it was a real human skull, with teeth still in the jaw and everything, but the turquoise detail was exquisite. Different shades of turquoise were used to define different parts of the mask, and the effect was astonishing. The Mexica, apparently were very fond of the turquoise blue-green color and valued things of this color more than anything else, except maybe for coral colored shell and gold. The gold work was also incredibly detailed and beautifully wrought. The stonework was also very intricate and expertly carved. Many of the artifacts looked as if they had been made yesterday. The pictoral Codex of the Mexica which showed the coming of the Spanish, their rule, the disease, wars, plans, etc. were also interesting. It was a large exhibit and took a couple hours. I kept thinking of my good friend Adriana throughout the whole thing, as I know she would have been so happy to see it all. Plus we went upstairs to see Korean ceramics, which were very nice. So Young and I had such a good time.
We had lunch in the Forum cafe, a little cafe across the street from the museum. It was very good, and then we went to a matinee of the Phantom of the Opera at Her Majesty's Theatre. It was, of course, a great show. The Phantom was at least on par with the Phantom on Broadway, although, it's a little difficult to compare since So Young and I were sitting in the stalls very close to the stage compared to the balcony seat we had in New York City when I went with dad and my family. So, to me, it seemed as if the Phantom was more awesome in London. He was a perfect singer, and a great actor. The visual tricks were also fantastic, the stage crew for that show muct be some of the best in the business. It must be such a difficult show to orchestrate backstage, as well as on stage, and in the pit. I enjoyed it thoroughly, as did So Young. It was her first musical she had seen. What a good one to start with!
Stonehenge and Bath
The weekend following Thanksgiving, I went with the American office group to Stonehenge and Bath. We left on the Saturday morning and got lucky as the weather was perfectly clear and sunny at Stonehenge as we marveled in it's ancient glory and mystery. The location of Stonehenge is very interesting. It's out in the middle of country off of a rural highway. It's literally right beside a road. Besides Stonehenge, the actual stones, there are also mounds surrounding the area that also have mysterious purposes. They look like the Indian burial mounds, but I don't think they are burial mounds. The stones also come from really far away. There is no granite slabs like that in England. There was also this cool rock that turns red when it's wet. But I can't remember it's name and when I went home in December for Christmas, I left all of my pamphlets and stuff with my parents.
I was pleased to learn that Stonehenge is believed to be a calendar with, happily, June 21st as the center of time keeping. My birthday is unendingly cool. I have decided one year, I'm going to visit Stonehenge one June 21st when they have the festival of sorts. I've heard it's kind of a Pagan ordeal, but I would like to see it. And that would be a terrific birthday trip, would it not? Perhaps it's silly, but I find great satisfaction in knowing that on my birthday all the ancient calendars of the world are lined up on their centers.
That about describes my time at Stonehenge... it was quite lovely. Windy and cold, but lovely.
That afternoon we drove to Bath to see the Roman Baths and the Christmas Market... Let me just say the Christmas market was my least favorite activity of the day. It was crushingly crowded, so I got out of there a.s.a.p. The Roman baths were incredibly interesting and exquisite. The classic simplicity of the design of the building was so beautiful, and so well preserved, it was breathtaking. I enjoyed them very much. I didn't touch the water in the baths (as there was a sign saying they were toxic), and I didn't drink the safe water in the pump room (I didn't have time, but I heard it tasted awful), I also didn't smell the-- apparently unpleasant-- odors of the bath as I was sick and could barely breath, let alone smell anything. However, I enjoyed the sights, sites, and the company of the advisor's children and my friends. After we left the Roman Baths, I escaped the crowd as quickly as possible, walked around the town, and happened upon the Fashion museum where I spent a happy two hours looking at exquisite clothes, gloves, hats, period dress, undergarments, shoes, etc.
The Fashion museum is the basement of the Assembly rooms. I would have looked at them, but they were having a function in them, so I didn't get to explore the building. However, from what I saw, the building was wonderful. I walked around town some more, and was incredibly pleased to discover that the rest of Bath was not as crowded as it's city centre. In fact, walking around Bath, I encountered very few people. I saw Queen's Court and was surprised to see a dog defecating on the pavement, but more surprised to notice the owner act as if nothing had happened and not clean up the doorstep of number 23. Oh well, happens everywhere, I guess.
This brings to mind, people do love their dogs here. Maybe I've mentioned it before, but never in my life have I ever seen such well behaved animals. They are strictly and unwaveringly obedient to their masters. The only dog I have met that was not was a dog I met in Sweden who kept chewing on my boots. But he listened to me more than his master, which was weird. It was like he was my dog for a couple of hours. Anyway, enough about dogs, back to Bath.
Saturday evening, we drove through the country outside of Bath (which is absolutely stunning, by the way, it looks as if it were a painting from the Italian Renaissance) to our Ramada hotel, which was a redone manor house. Staying in the country for a day made me realise, the English country side is overwhelmingly beautiful. I mean, you look at it, and you just want to run in the fields and hike through the forests. It's so temperate and mild, so delicious and wet, and looks so pure as if it hasn't been touched by man for a century. Many places, I suspect actually haven't been. But even where people have been, it doesn't appear obtrusive. They keep their large trees, there's little clear-cutting, the forests are well tended and the innocence of the land is well preserved. There are little foot paths sometimes running through the fields. As lovely as the cities are, I think I enjoy the surrounding country side better.
Anyway, the hotel had a swimming pool AND a bath tub! It felt incredible to be immersed in warm water for a couple of hours. An experience which is all too rare in my life. Sunday, I visited the Jane Austen center which was, although somewhat informative, not as fun as the fashion museum. However, I did buy a nice little journal book, and some things for my sister. And also, the Jane Austen center was not actually where she used to live. Where she lived is now a dentist's surgery. I think the address is 26 Gay street. Apparently, Jane Austen wasn't happy living in Bath, as I don't blame her. She originally lived in the country where I imagine she would have been much happier. However, they credit Bath for some of the best "high class" characters in her novels. After I went to the centre, I walked around Bath, stopping in a local craft bazaar, and at Jigsaw where I got some things for my little sister. The drive on the bus back to Brighton was spiced up a bit by the kids arguing and throwing things at the other girls. That was pretty funny. One of them kept saying, "I'm ALIVEEE!!!" until he fell asleep and the bus was blessed with a period of peace. He is a funny kid, and sweet, too, so he didn't really bother anyone, we were just sort of tired and wanted some quiet, so it was nice when we got it. Otherwise, the drive home was rather uneventful. I slept and talked to my little sister a bit on Skype.
We arrived back in Brighton around 8:30pm. It was a good trip.
I was pleased to learn that Stonehenge is believed to be a calendar with, happily, June 21st as the center of time keeping. My birthday is unendingly cool. I have decided one year, I'm going to visit Stonehenge one June 21st when they have the festival of sorts. I've heard it's kind of a Pagan ordeal, but I would like to see it. And that would be a terrific birthday trip, would it not? Perhaps it's silly, but I find great satisfaction in knowing that on my birthday all the ancient calendars of the world are lined up on their centers.
That about describes my time at Stonehenge... it was quite lovely. Windy and cold, but lovely.
That afternoon we drove to Bath to see the Roman Baths and the Christmas Market... Let me just say the Christmas market was my least favorite activity of the day. It was crushingly crowded, so I got out of there a.s.a.p. The Roman baths were incredibly interesting and exquisite. The classic simplicity of the design of the building was so beautiful, and so well preserved, it was breathtaking. I enjoyed them very much. I didn't touch the water in the baths (as there was a sign saying they were toxic), and I didn't drink the safe water in the pump room (I didn't have time, but I heard it tasted awful), I also didn't smell the-- apparently unpleasant-- odors of the bath as I was sick and could barely breath, let alone smell anything. However, I enjoyed the sights, sites, and the company of the advisor's children and my friends. After we left the Roman Baths, I escaped the crowd as quickly as possible, walked around the town, and happened upon the Fashion museum where I spent a happy two hours looking at exquisite clothes, gloves, hats, period dress, undergarments, shoes, etc.
The Fashion museum is the basement of the Assembly rooms. I would have looked at them, but they were having a function in them, so I didn't get to explore the building. However, from what I saw, the building was wonderful. I walked around town some more, and was incredibly pleased to discover that the rest of Bath was not as crowded as it's city centre. In fact, walking around Bath, I encountered very few people. I saw Queen's Court and was surprised to see a dog defecating on the pavement, but more surprised to notice the owner act as if nothing had happened and not clean up the doorstep of number 23. Oh well, happens everywhere, I guess.
This brings to mind, people do love their dogs here. Maybe I've mentioned it before, but never in my life have I ever seen such well behaved animals. They are strictly and unwaveringly obedient to their masters. The only dog I have met that was not was a dog I met in Sweden who kept chewing on my boots. But he listened to me more than his master, which was weird. It was like he was my dog for a couple of hours. Anyway, enough about dogs, back to Bath.
Saturday evening, we drove through the country outside of Bath (which is absolutely stunning, by the way, it looks as if it were a painting from the Italian Renaissance) to our Ramada hotel, which was a redone manor house. Staying in the country for a day made me realise, the English country side is overwhelmingly beautiful. I mean, you look at it, and you just want to run in the fields and hike through the forests. It's so temperate and mild, so delicious and wet, and looks so pure as if it hasn't been touched by man for a century. Many places, I suspect actually haven't been. But even where people have been, it doesn't appear obtrusive. They keep their large trees, there's little clear-cutting, the forests are well tended and the innocence of the land is well preserved. There are little foot paths sometimes running through the fields. As lovely as the cities are, I think I enjoy the surrounding country side better.
Anyway, the hotel had a swimming pool AND a bath tub! It felt incredible to be immersed in warm water for a couple of hours. An experience which is all too rare in my life. Sunday, I visited the Jane Austen center which was, although somewhat informative, not as fun as the fashion museum. However, I did buy a nice little journal book, and some things for my sister. And also, the Jane Austen center was not actually where she used to live. Where she lived is now a dentist's surgery. I think the address is 26 Gay street. Apparently, Jane Austen wasn't happy living in Bath, as I don't blame her. She originally lived in the country where I imagine she would have been much happier. However, they credit Bath for some of the best "high class" characters in her novels. After I went to the centre, I walked around Bath, stopping in a local craft bazaar, and at Jigsaw where I got some things for my little sister. The drive on the bus back to Brighton was spiced up a bit by the kids arguing and throwing things at the other girls. That was pretty funny. One of them kept saying, "I'm ALIVEEE!!!" until he fell asleep and the bus was blessed with a period of peace. He is a funny kid, and sweet, too, so he didn't really bother anyone, we were just sort of tired and wanted some quiet, so it was nice when we got it. Otherwise, the drive home was rather uneventful. I slept and talked to my little sister a bit on Skype.
We arrived back in Brighton around 8:30pm. It was a good trip.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Thanksgiving
In short, Thanksgiving was a success. To flesh it out a little more, Thanksgiving was a HUGE success.
It was one of the best Thanksgiving's in the history of all my 21 Thanksgivings. One night, my flat mates Laura, Apryl, and I along with our friends Ed and Stephane, decided we needed to introduce the English to the wonderful American tradition. I am not one to go into solliloquies about the symbolism of traditions and what not, but if there were any one day that solidified all of my feelings and thoughts about the world, it would be Thanksgiving, and especially Thanksgiving 2009. A better time during a holiday, I don't think I have had.
Once it had been decided, and once the actual date of Thanksgiving had been discovered (after some mix-ups), everyone was invited. And I mean everyone. We made it a huge potluck event, to which everyone contributed something. We had traditional English Yorkshire puddings and mash, traditional Korean Kimchi, noodles, chicken, and other spicy delicacies, traditional French cake and crepes, and a huge array of family recipies from the United States. My friends from Nigeria attended as well, and brought some drinks, which were slightly overlooked. I made [American style] biscuits [not British style, which are cookies], green beans, corn, and the most gorgeous turkey I have ever cooked. In fact, it was the first and only turkey I have ever cooked, so that's what made it even more special for turning out as good as it did. I was (and still am) so proud of that turkey I could burst. I took the advice of nearly everyone and compiled them into one turkey, and the result was succulent perfection.
So, here's the story of the turkey.
It was the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving, and I was buying the last of the supplies for our shin dig at Sainsbury's. I had read somewhere that you had to let the turkey thaw for 48 hours before cooking. Well, this turned out to work perfectly, because the 10kg turkey I bought (that's 22 lbs!!!), was half the size of our mini freezers (why they give two mini-freezers for a flat of 8 is beyond me). There was no way that bad boy was fitting in the freezers. So, after buying the turkey, my friends Stephane and I hoisted it into my back pack, and I packed the turkey back to my flat where I deposited it in the sink to thaw for the next day and a half. On Thursday, I popped it into the oven around 1:30pm, and at a quarter to six (the party starting at 6pm), I took it out to discover it had cooked perfectly. Now to unwrap the foil from around it to toast the top. I put it back in, and at 6pm exactly, the turkey was ready to eat.
There are very few times in my life I feel absolute and total triumph. This is one of them.
Not only did I manage to host an international Thanksgiving party, I cooked the turkey perfectly to boot. Boo-yah.
So, on with the night.
My flat mates and I hung out together with our friends from the frisbee team, and some of our French and Korean friends. We told jokes, talked about our countries, drew hand turkeys (one of the funnest Thanksgiving traditions), and ate as much as we could possibly muster. I laughed and smiled so much my face hurt. That's how good it was.
There are only two down notes to all of this: my friend Ed was under pain killers at the time, having just come from surgery the day before [but he was determined not to miss it]. However, this made him funnier, as he didn't know what was going on half the time, and also doesn't remember most of it. The second down note was I quite ill and contracted some sort of weird eye infection. But, there was too much good stuff going on to notice much of that.
My favorite dish of the evening was the Korean food. It was SO GOOD. Oh, and my turkey, which was also SO GOOD.
Hannah/Flat 29 turkey recipe:
Buy large frozen turkey
Pack said frozen turkey home in you back pack
Let thaw for two days
Remove innards [miss your dog because you know she can't have the bits no one will eat]
Rub entire bird with butter
Melt butter and drizzle bird.
Rub this butter into the bird.
Add a little salt, herbs, and garlic powder
Stuff body cavity with onions, lemon, and shallots
Set on rack in baking pan
Pour orange juice into the bottom of pan
Cover pan and bird in aluminum foil
Stuff it into your tiny oven
Bake for four hours
Take out of oven, remove foil
Put back in oven for 15 to 20 minutes to allow the butter to brown the top of the bird
Remove and beam with happiness
It was one of the best Thanksgiving's in the history of all my 21 Thanksgivings. One night, my flat mates Laura, Apryl, and I along with our friends Ed and Stephane, decided we needed to introduce the English to the wonderful American tradition. I am not one to go into solliloquies about the symbolism of traditions and what not, but if there were any one day that solidified all of my feelings and thoughts about the world, it would be Thanksgiving, and especially Thanksgiving 2009. A better time during a holiday, I don't think I have had.
Once it had been decided, and once the actual date of Thanksgiving had been discovered (after some mix-ups), everyone was invited. And I mean everyone. We made it a huge potluck event, to which everyone contributed something. We had traditional English Yorkshire puddings and mash, traditional Korean Kimchi, noodles, chicken, and other spicy delicacies, traditional French cake and crepes, and a huge array of family recipies from the United States. My friends from Nigeria attended as well, and brought some drinks, which were slightly overlooked. I made [American style] biscuits [not British style, which are cookies], green beans, corn, and the most gorgeous turkey I have ever cooked. In fact, it was the first and only turkey I have ever cooked, so that's what made it even more special for turning out as good as it did. I was (and still am) so proud of that turkey I could burst. I took the advice of nearly everyone and compiled them into one turkey, and the result was succulent perfection.
So, here's the story of the turkey.
It was the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving, and I was buying the last of the supplies for our shin dig at Sainsbury's. I had read somewhere that you had to let the turkey thaw for 48 hours before cooking. Well, this turned out to work perfectly, because the 10kg turkey I bought (that's 22 lbs!!!), was half the size of our mini freezers (why they give two mini-freezers for a flat of 8 is beyond me). There was no way that bad boy was fitting in the freezers. So, after buying the turkey, my friends Stephane and I hoisted it into my back pack, and I packed the turkey back to my flat where I deposited it in the sink to thaw for the next day and a half. On Thursday, I popped it into the oven around 1:30pm, and at a quarter to six (the party starting at 6pm), I took it out to discover it had cooked perfectly. Now to unwrap the foil from around it to toast the top. I put it back in, and at 6pm exactly, the turkey was ready to eat.
There are very few times in my life I feel absolute and total triumph. This is one of them.
Not only did I manage to host an international Thanksgiving party, I cooked the turkey perfectly to boot. Boo-yah.
So, on with the night.
My flat mates and I hung out together with our friends from the frisbee team, and some of our French and Korean friends. We told jokes, talked about our countries, drew hand turkeys (one of the funnest Thanksgiving traditions), and ate as much as we could possibly muster. I laughed and smiled so much my face hurt. That's how good it was.
There are only two down notes to all of this: my friend Ed was under pain killers at the time, having just come from surgery the day before [but he was determined not to miss it]. However, this made him funnier, as he didn't know what was going on half the time, and also doesn't remember most of it. The second down note was I quite ill and contracted some sort of weird eye infection. But, there was too much good stuff going on to notice much of that.
My favorite dish of the evening was the Korean food. It was SO GOOD. Oh, and my turkey, which was also SO GOOD.
Hannah/Flat 29 turkey recipe:
Buy large frozen turkey
Pack said frozen turkey home in you back pack
Let thaw for two days
Remove innards [miss your dog because you know she can't have the bits no one will eat]
Rub entire bird with butter
Melt butter and drizzle bird.
Rub this butter into the bird.
Add a little salt, herbs, and garlic powder
Stuff body cavity with onions, lemon, and shallots
Set on rack in baking pan
Pour orange juice into the bottom of pan
Cover pan and bird in aluminum foil
Stuff it into your tiny oven
Bake for four hours
Take out of oven, remove foil
Put back in oven for 15 to 20 minutes to allow the butter to brown the top of the bird
Remove and beam with happiness
Thursday, November 19, 2009
It's been a long time coming... Ireland, Guy Fawkes day, MUSE, and events in between...
Well, I left for Ireland on Friday, Oct. 30th. There was a huge fiasco, which I will put into a list due to it's confusing nature.
1. I didn't check in online on time to print my boarding pass for Ryan Air, so I thought I would have to leave for the airport early ahead of the other girls.
2. I got on the wrong train to the Gatwick airport and ended up showing up 20 minutes later than the other girls.
3. Luckily, I still had plenty of time, due to the fact that there were no lines anywhere.
4. When we went to board the plane, the other girls couldn't get on because they hadn't checked their boarding passes in at the front, which I had.
5. So, I flew to Cork, and spent almost the entire weekend by myself. Which wasn't bad at all, just unplanned.
Friday night, I walked around Cork and got myself somewhat orientated. I got a slice of pizza, and had some old guy crossing the street try to take it from me. He stuck his hand out like he was going to grab it, and I just said, "hey!", jerked the pizza away, and kept walking. Friday night didn't go so well as the people above me were excruciatingly loud. All night. Until 7am, actually.
But, Saturday was beautiful enough to make up for the headache of the night before. I went to Blarney and toured the castle, grounds, and gardens for 3 hours. Then I ate "lunch" at 3pm at this place called "Mackies" in Blarney. I had traditional Irish Stew, which was beef, carrots, potatoes, and parsley in a bowl with bread. I also had Bailey's Coffee, which was incredibly tasty. After Mackies, I walked around Blarney a little more and waited for the bus. I heard a waiter talking to a group of American girls, and he said, "Yes, Americans are the loudest, but they are the most generous people. And the most polite and friendly." I was pretty happy when I heard that.
It's kind of frustrating sometimes, because there is so many misconceptions about Americans based on the government's actions. I think some people get the impression that since we are "of the people" that the people control everything the country does, and we (kids like me: individuals) are, therefore, to blame for the pain America has caused to other countries. Obviously, not all the British think that way. I have a lot of British friends that haven't so much as breathed a word of negativity towards me because of my nationality, or for any reason at all for that matter.
In fact, the majority of British people I have met are the most decent people you could possibly want to meet. They are considerate and kind. It's just a couple of them that seem to embody the nation's resentment towards America, but more afflicting, Americans.
Anyway, after I got back from Blarney, I tried to get in touch with the other girls, but I couldn't get a hold of them on their phones, so I set off for their hostel to personally pay them a visit. If they were there. I found them about 5:30 getting ready to go out for Halloween night. I am such a good sleuth: I deduced they would be there preparing to go out for Halloween, and I was exactly right. Haha!
This is going to sound strange, but there was the biggest pizza I have ever seen in that hostel. It was humongous! Bigger than Pizza Perfection's Monster pizza or anything. It must have been 3 feet in diameter AT LEAST. It was so big. There was a girl there also admiring the pizza from Philadelphia in Cork by herself.
Anyway, enough about my skills that do not so little resemble those of Sherlock Holmes....
OKay, so we had heard a rumor running around that there would be a Halloween Parade in Cork somewhere. So, out we went. We walked all the way down to the river, crossed it, then realized we were nowhere near the parade. Where was the parade in reality? Less than a block from the girls' hostel. Mm... It was mostly my fault because I had heard someone say it would be on main street... well, I didn't verify it, and although I knew where Main street was, um... yeah. It wasn't at main street.
You'd think I'd stop making mistakes like these, but sadly, I'm just getting used to making them.
Anyway, the parade was put on by a local church/community group and was really cool. There were lots of puppets and people in costume dancing and playing drums and acting out skits and neat things like that. I had a good time. The other girls left before the end, but I stayed until the last bow, and then returned to my hostel. I went to sleep early being so tired, and realizing I needed to catch the 9:30am bus for my flight.
I was just falling asleep when I was suddenly aware there was a very loud siren in my ears. I sat up in bed, I could barely hear myself think. What is going on? Is there a fire? I hopped out of my bunk bed in my pajamas and went ran into the manager of the hostel. There was no fire. It was the fog machine for the Halloween party. I really wish they had called on my expertise about fog machines. They are notorious for setting off fire alarms... Anyway, so for about every five minutes for half an hour, the fire alarm would just start going off. The manager just eventually shut down the whole system. And decided to see if it was still going to go off... at 11:30pm. After I had fallen asleep again. And it happened again at about 4 in the morning... mmm... But, otherwise, I was so tired from Blarney, I had a good night's sleep.
The next morning found me stealthily creeping from my room and onto the streets of Cork. I left quite early, so I had a little walk around for a while. And eventually got on the 9:30 bus to the airport. Once again, I accidentally got off at the wrong stop in the airport business park and ended up walking about two miles to the actual airport. However, it was a blessing in disguise because I had a few hours to wait at the airport and the exercise gave me a little more patience and cut into my wait time. It was also a beautiful, cold, clear, sunny day. And I got to enjoy more of it by walking than I would have otherwise. I into a couple of nice people in the airport hotel on my quest to find the airport.
At the airport (which was really nice, by the way) there were many sweet children, and the sunlight streaming through the warmed by back in such a lovely way. I ran into the girl from Philadelphia again and chatted with her for a bit.
Airports in the U.K. are so much faster than in the U.S. For international flights, you can get through check-in, security, and to your plane in under an hour. In the U.S. it takes HOURS just to get through check-in sometimes. I don't know why their system is so much faster. Maybe more people fly more regularly there and so they waste less time by being prepared. Or maybe the laws aren't quite as strict. You only have to take your shoes off here if they have metal on them, whereas in the U.S. everyone has to remove their shoes regardless of the kind of shoe it is.
I was so tired when I got back to my apartment that afternoon, being mostly sleep deprived all weekend. I tried everything to stay awake. I ended up reading some assignments, and then I went to bed early only to be woken up at 3:00am because of the fire alarm going off. Our whole building exited and stood in the courtyard awaiting the arrival of the staff. I swear, the staff for the halls of residence must think we are just an unlucky bunch. They are over here all the time fixing stuff that mysteriously stops working, or is broken.
Anyway, so that delayed my sleep again. It turns out it was, once again, fog that set it off. Except this fog drifted inside from a window on the third floor. Ugh.
So, for the remaining portion of the week, until Thursday, November 5th, I was rather lazy. I didn't accomplish much. Which seems to be an increasing trend in my schedule. I play ultimate frisbee on Wednesday, but otherwise, unmemorable. Except Tuesday the 3rd, a few of us flat mates went out to explore the culinary options of Brighton and wandered into the Franklin Tavern. Our curiosity being piqued by the painting of Benjamin Franklin on the wooden plaque outside of a colonial-style building. The food (mince pie, veg, and mash), was pretty good, although lacking a lot of flair, like a lot of British food. However, it was tasty in it's own right.
Thursday, however, was an explosion of excitement! Literally.
Guy Fawkes Day was one of the most bizarre things I have ever seen. More so because of the presence of a plethora of American iconography. The parades consisted of different groups in different themes walking up the streets of Lewes with banners, firebrands, and extremely loud firecrackers. Or, I would like to call them portable explosions. They were SO LOUD. Anyway, some of the themes of the parades included, American landing on the moon, Native Americans, American Revolution patriots, Civil War Confederates, Vietnam soldiers, World War II soldiers, and Mardi Gras costumes. Although, there were many British icons there as well: Dukes, kings, queens, and some Eastern, Asian, and African icons as well. It's just the amount of American icons there that threw me off. It was something totally unexpected. But England likes to do that to me: throw me unexpected curve balls constantly. I like it. Most of the time.
Me and a bunch of other Americans left our flat around 3pm, but while the other Americans decided to take the bus, I decided to go off on my own and take the train into Lewes since it would be, as I predicted, faster, and less congested. I bumped into Ed, a friend discovered in good ol' England and we rode in to Lewes together. We met with some other French people and explored Lewes a bit. A lot of the shops were boarding up their windows in the last dying hour of the day, foreboding a wild and intense night ahead. I wandered around with Ed, Vivi, and some other French people for a while, then met up with the Americans, saw a few parades, and then I split off from the group wanting to get a better view of events. I wandered up high street, bought myself a delicious toffee apple for one pound, and tried to keep my feet warm whilst waiting for the ensuing processions/insanity.
The heat was so intense. And once, a person in the parade so deftly sneakily pulled out a portable explosion, lit it, and it rolled casually to the curb where I happened to be standing. The crowd shrunk back in horrific anticipation, and then, the ground shook, a loud thud hit my eardrums through my hands, a light flashed for a blink, and then I was aware of a kid crying and screaming. Poor kid. It was rather exhilarating for me, but I can understand it being very frightening for a child. There was some sort of call and response which went something like this: "Olly olly (something)...." "Oi, Oi, Oi!". People were also covered in ashy coal and striped jumpers, their features blending into indistinguishable impishness, shouting angrily and carry their firebrands.
Eventually, I met back up with Ed and Vivi and the others and we walked outside of the main part of town towards one of the bonfires. However, once we got there, we discovered it was five pounds and would start for another half an hour. We decided it was not worth it, and returned to the main street, Ed and I seeing Vivi and the others off at the train station and then returning to the thick of it. We walked around the emptying main street and realized why the businesses boarded up their windows. There was mess everywhere. Glass, cups, streamers, smoldering embers, etc. We bought some festival food (I got a frankfurter with onions and mustard) and continued on our way, which eventually turned into a quest to find a bathroom. Or, toilet, as Ed would correct me with his British accent. So, instead, of course, we ended up standing in front of a humongous bonfire at least 20 feet high. Also, in the same place, was an impressive fireworks display that would give some 4th of July celebrations a run for their money, in terms of size and quantity of said fireworks displayed. Ed and I watched until the end of the fireworks show, and then booked it back towards the train station. We magically happened upon a bathroom, and a somewhat comical "Elderly People" sign. Then we found ourselves being squeezed from all sides by the massive crowd of train commuters trying to catch the train before the last one left the station at 12am. It was so packed, my weight was actually partially suspended and I wasn't holding my entire body weight up. Finally, we made it on the train and back to Falmer totally exhausted. We had been in Lewes with the explosions and fires for seven hours straight. It was some intense flame. I could feel my face burning all night with the fire rash.
Friday, the 6th was spent resting, baking brownies, taking a walk along the seafront, watching Men Who Stare at Goats at the Odeon, and playing ultimate frisbee. I was some what ill, it was windy and rainy, and so I was a little late getting to practice, but it was still pretty fun. Saturday was spent studying, amazingly. I looked up some references for my Propaganda class essay, which I will be writing about political cartoons. And I talked to one of my best friends Adam, which turned out to be a rather depressing conversation. But I still enjoyed it. The library is only open from 1pm to 4pm on the weekends, so I had to leave. I wandered around, I can't remember where, and spent the night in memory oblivion... I really don't remember what I did... I remember being alone most of the time because practically the entire building was gone to Paris that weekend.
Sunday, Ed and Vivi invited me to eat at Ed's apartment, and so I went across the road and down the hill to the other set of halls of residence and enjoyed meeting a new friend Stephane, another computer engineer from France, and a delicious plate of pasta, American TV shows, and a game of Hearts. A most pleasant way to spend and evening.
Monday brought a new week of classes, and Tuesday the 10th brought a new restaurant to my attention: Fat Leos. A very good Italian restaurant in the North Lanes. Afterwards, some of us went to the King and Queen to sing karaoke, which was good and bad, as always. That night I discovered that all Rum Hot Toddy's are not created equally. The Rum Hot Toddy at The Bear is a pleasant light drink with a lovely flavor, warm and rich. The Rum Hot Toddy at the King and Queen was a disgusting and just gross. I didn't even finish it. Blech. The taste still lingers sometimes when I think of it.
Anyway, Wednesday, brought another Ultimate frisbee session! Woohoo! However, it was played at the Sussex campus instead of the level, because it was a tournament of sorts. We got stomped every single game. And my left leg decided to stop working after the first game. It kept locking up on me, so I had to sit out the other two games that were played. An event which made me most disgusted. Anyway.. moving on to the awesome event on THURSDAY!
THURSDAY the 12th I SAW MUSE IN CONCERT IN LONDON!
Okay, for those of you who don't know, MUSE is one my of my all time favorite bands, right up there with David Bowie, The Killers, and Queen. Right up there at the tip-top of my list. And I got to see them in London, at the O2 Arena... They were absolutely amazing. They played nearly perfectly, but didn't play their music exactly the same as the album, which was nice. No, it was more than nice, it was freaking awesome!
Okay, I went to London shortly after getting out of my Genre and Film class, during which, ironically, guess what happened? The Fire alarm went off in the building during the lecture. So, after being desensitized because of all the previous fire-alarms, it came as no surprise.
But, I took the train to London, found my way on the tube to the O2 arena, then waited a couple of hours, grabbing some "traditional British Grub" at this place called S&M, which is like a Steak'n'Shake of British food. "British" but fast-food "British". Although, I was starving, and they gave me a lot of food to assuage my stomach pains, which was all I wanted, so I didn't go too in depth into the culinary expertise of the meal. The service was uncommonly bad, I but I really didn't care because I had time to kill. Although, it was interesting watching the staff stand around so efficiently. Their managers must be very proud.
The concert was incredible. I was happy I was in the very last row (U), mainly because I wasn't deaf when I got out of the concert, although it was a bit hard to see what was going on. However, I got to HEAR them live which is what I really wanted. The lineup was terrific, consisting of all of my favorite MUSE songs and more. The lighting design was fantastic, the stage design was also pretty awesome. Simple, effective, and dramatic. It was great. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, although I may have worried my fellow row occupants by head banging and dancing around a little wildly. But I just couldn't contain it. It was too much fun.
I caught the tube back to Victoria station, where I waited until 12:05 am for my train to Brighton to turn up. There was some guy who tried to cut in front of me at the coffee shop, which kind of pissed me off, but other than that, I had a good ride home. Although the trains were incredibly crowded, due to the MUSE concert, actually. The O2 Arena sits 20,000 people, and the MUSE concert was COMPLETELY SOLD OUT. It was a sight to behold. All of those people singing the same songs.
Surprisingly, a lot of the audience consisted of families and couples. There were also many youngsters. Not as many "young people" as I would have thought. And I did not see one single person immodestly dressed, which is what I was expecting, whilst typically thinking of a popular rock concert. But almost everyone was dressed in their hoodies, or long sleeve shirts, or suit jackets. It was pretty great.
Anyway, when I finally made it back to Brighton, of course the train to Falmer had left in an eon long ago, and so I walked out of the station, walked for about 20 feet, when the skies opened and began to dump rain on my head. I ducked and ran for about half a mile to the nearest Bus 25 stop. Running in the rain in little ballet flats, at two-thirty in the morning, was something out of reality. I was totally soaked, as I reached the bus stop just in time to flag down the bus pulling up along side me. I stepped through the doors like a wet draggled rat, my hair sticking to my face. I was so incredibly exhausted, but so happy, replaying the events of the night in my head.
The only bad thing about the concert was the one opening act for MUSE. They were terrible. They were called "The Pink", and they were the most screechy, one-note type of "music" I have ever heard. But, one interesting effect they had was the increased desire to hear MUSE (if there could ever be a stronger desire), and their act also brought a good bit of blood to my face with their flashing lights and high irregular guitar riffs. It also quickened my heart rate, much like a blood-curdling scream of a human or the howl of a pack of wolves would do. That's what it kept reminding me of. And it was just about as pleasant to listen to. But I figure their presence was to show how awesome MUSE was, and also to get the crowd woken up a bit, in case any of them were having trouble staying awake through all of the suspense.
Anyway, after finally winding down getting to bed at 3am I, needless to say, slept very late on Friday. I baked a large cake, and went to frisbee practice where I relayed all that I could about the MUSE concert to a fellow fan, and president of the frisbee club, Sam. After frisbee, we went to The Bear as usual and had a few drinks and played some darts. After which Sam, Pete, Dom, and I played frisbee at the Level under the dim sidewalk lights. It was so much fun.
Saturday, the American Office took us on a field trip to Rye and Bodiam. We saw Bodiam castle, which is a medieval castle (and one of the finest specimens in existence). It had a moat, and many cool chambers. We had fun playing all over the stone work and exploring every bit of the castle possible. We climbed to the highest tower and surveyed the country side and it started to rain. But quit again soon. Most of the field trip was spend in transit, so we didn't get to spend a lot of time looking around, but in Rye, we saw the old sea wall, which is now two miles away from the actual ocean, the old ship yard, and Mermaid Street, which is the oldest street in Rye, dating back to at least the 1300s. There was the Mermaid Bar and and Inn which has been in business since the 1430s, I think. Incredible history. Rye was a very beautiful town with narrow cobble stone streets and quaint buildings. Jen, Sam, and I ate at a local charity restaurant, where they help provide jobs for the mentally disabled and I had some terrific "Sausage Casserole", which was basically pork and beans, but oh so good. And English peas, which are still a favorite of mine.
After we finished, we went looking around in one of many antique stores. I saw some very interesting things... but we didn't have much time, so I couldn't look around Rye as much as I liked, and I got a Christmas present for one of my friends and we went back to the bus. We then rode back down the coast to Brighton, passing Eastbourne along the way. The wind was blowing so hard, the bus' windshield wipers were being blown off of the glass. The curling waves looked as if they were suspended in the surf with their white caps being blown in the opposite direction, all of the sea spray creating a salty haze in the sky and partially obscuring the sun. It was a wondrous thing to see. Eastbourne also has a pier, almost like Brighton's, except it seems to be run down and neglected. There were posters all over it saying, "You can Save this Pier!" and stuff like that. It was a good day. Sunday morning, So Young, Jennifer, Yeon Joo (all of whom are Catholic), and I went to a Catholic church near the seafront. It was a pretty nice church, but not having been to a church service in a couple of years, I got a rather different impression than the other girls, I think. The service was very similar to the Episcopalian services I have attended, although the sermon and gospel readings were more informal. The main "talk", I would call it, because it really wasn't much of a sermon so far as sermons go, was about the state of aid to developing countries, and those countries choices to invest their aid into weapons, which the countries providing the aid supplied to them. It was a very politically charged speech and was calling to light the importance of standing up what you believe in, even if it means death. All in all, it was not a bad service, but was not very well thought out. And the two priests did not seem to be very thrilled to be in each other's presence. It did make me rather yearn for an Episcopalian service, and perhaps this Sunday, I may make it to one...
After the service, we went and had an English breakfast at Bella's, a small cafe on St. James' street across the way from Morrison's. It was a very good breakfast. Then we rode back to the Flat, and I spent the rest of the day reading and listening to music until about 4 o'clock when I went out to play football with Vivi and some other French people out on the Falmer sports pitch. We played for about 2 hours, which I ran for almost the entire time. I was also goalie for a short time after having twisted my right knee a bit. After football, I cooked for Ed, Apryl, Stephane and I. And after we had supped, a conversation about Thanksgiving day broke out and the next thing that broke out was the paper and sharpie, and the next thing that broke out was a bunch of hand turkeys with emblems of "Americanism" drawn by Ed. I drew a picture of Stephane, and we just chatted away a bit. It was a really fun night. Monday, I only had one class because it was reading week for my Propaganda class. Monday night, I met up with one of my ultimate frisbee mates, Andy, and we went to the Brighton Ultimate shin dig in Hove. Since I had never been there before, of course we got lost. And ended up being forty-five minutes late. I was very stressed about it. I didn't want to be late to frisbee! But I'm glad Andy was with me, because he calmed me down a bit. We only got to play frisbee for less than an hour, which was only one game. Sad.
After that, Sam, Virgil, Andy, Ethan, and I chilled out in the pub by the Rugby field where we played frisbee and talked about our upcoming trip to Sweden (Jan. 26th- Feb. 3rd), which, needless to say, we are all entirely STOKED about! Andy and I caught the bus back home. I've noticed I spend most nights of the week in pubs. I only get a drink maybe twice a week at most, but it seems like half my time is spent in pubs. I guess that's the way they do it in England, because that's what the majority of my British friends do, even if they don't drink. But they are pretty nice to hang out in because they are warm, they smell of food (usually), you can stay until they close, and when it gets dark at 4:30pm, there really isn't much else you can do. Minus watching a movie which is more expensive, or playing frisbee in the dark... which is free. Am I a little obsessed? Yes, I think so. I actually start thinking of how I can work out so I can become faster and more effective at the game. I am going to join the gym next semester.
Tuesday the 17th, the weekly dinner night-out found us at the Gladstone pub at their Curry night, since the curry night at Falmer Bar (on the Sussex campus) was full... again... for the second time trying.
Ed and Stephane came along, and I had SPICY FOOD! It's the first real spicy food I've had since I've been here. And while it lacked a diversity of flavor, the spiciness was so nice to have tingling on my tongue, I didn't complain. I was just happy I was eating something that kicked me in the jaw. There was a quiz going on, which seemed like good fun, but we didn't join in, we watched instead. Next week, we will join in, probably. But Gladstone had decent food, the people were very nice. We had a good time. Most of us were bushed, though, so no King and Queen for karaoke, we went straight back to the flats and I showed Stephane and Ed the Homestarrunner and Trogdor, to which previously they were ignorant. I would like to think I educated them in www.homestarrunner.com, but I hardly think it would constitute as anything worth being educated in, however funny it is.
Wednesday, I had class again, and watched my weekly required movie for Genre and Film class. This week's movie being Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and analysing it through the criteria of the sci-fi genre. A very interesting movie, the basic point of which is memories and mistakes. It's a good movie. Definitely sci-fi, although there are no aliens or weird space ships. But it explored the mind as a strange world in which we live, and the people in our lives live as well. One of the best quotes in the movie was the patient is asking the doctor, "What about the risk of brain damage?", to which the doctor replies, "Well, technically, the procedure is brain damage".
Anyway, before I geek out about it too much, I will keep recording events.
Wednesday also saw more, guess what? FRISBEE! I am now involved in four different frisbee leagues (Brighton city, Brighton University, Brighton Indoor, and Brighton Women's), four to five days of the week. It is needless to say I am very hungry very often. But this makes me happy. Wednesday, last night, I left the pub early and wrote my Genre and film analysis, took a shower, and went to bed warm. Although, today, I woke up with a cough and feeling "like death" as they say. I went to Genre and Film class, took in Blade Runner which was a film I was most curious to see, and then came home, and I have been updating this ever since.
I know it has been far too long since I updated, and I apologize. It is now rectified, however, and pictures will be following shortly.
I must now take a nap before I go play frisbee tonight. Maybe if I get some sleep, I will feel better.
Speaking of sleep, for several days running, I dreamed peacefully of the ocean, whales, turtles and such. But for the past few nights, I have been having frightening dreams of violence in Africa...Weird.
Oh, and also, we got a new TV in our flat, which I watched last night. But, unfortunately, I watched the news... which was a bad thing to watch, because now I don't want to watch the new, flat screen TV any more. There was a bit on there about how the world population is going to almost double in the next 40 years, according to experts. So, what is their suggested solution? "Educate" women to only have one or two kids. Not because of food shortages or something like that, but because of carbon emissions. More kids would just create too much carbon, I guess! Well, it's a good thing they can tack all the responsibility on women. You know, it might be nice if they "educated" men about this "issue" as well, wouldn't it? But no, men, apparently, have no hand in controlling the world population. It's the women's "choice" to have less children. And somehow this will "empower" women. Okay, so if someone, a female, grew up in this "educated" system, and decided they wanted more than two children, would this make them uneducated?
I don't know if the news people spout this kind of crap with the intention of manipulating the information, or if it just magically happens by accident. But, this report deeply troubled me. Is still deeply troubling me. Since when did women just voluntarily have children on their own. Doesn't the responsibility of children also fall with men as well? I mean, just logically, it doesn't make sense. It takes two to tango. But, I guess no one organizing the clip wanted to talk about that.
I think this whole climate change thing has gotten out of hand. Oh, they said, they weren't going to make it like in China where it is illegal to have more than one child or whatever, it was going to be voluntary. But they made it clear that if A WOMAN didn't voluntarily comply, they would be "knowingly" dooming the rest of us to increased global warming. Thanks a lot to the UN for coming up with such an insulting solution. Thank you for blaming women for the increased numbers of children in the world and placing a large chunk of the responsibilities of the environmental issues on the heads of potential mothers and their potential children. To me, that's stepping in way too close to invading personal freedom. Educated choice. HAH. There can't be an educated choice if there is no alternative choices represented on equal footing. "Have one or two children and you'll be a good educated woman" Versus "Have more than two children and you will be part of the demise of the human race".
Uuuuuurrrgh.
Women consist of over half the population on earth. Why are we still treated and talked about as if we were irresponsible baby-producing-therefore-environment-destroying THINGS?! I just don't like the implication news stories like that disperse. It's in very bad taste and no logic at all. It's just sensationalist crap. And they always have people there to contest the the extremes of the view, the "yes" or the "no", but who do they have to represent the middle ground?! NO ONE!
ARRRRGH! The most frustrating thing is being a media student, and most of my studies revolve around how much things like this actually DO affect the culture. They aren't just things you can brush off, news has real consequences. Information is power. And when you package information in such a biased way, the power becomes biased. It helps no one.
I don't claim to be a feminist, but I do claim to be a humanist. We may have different body parts, and we may be different, but men are equal with women, and women are equal with men. End of story.
Cheers for reading!
Hannah
1. I didn't check in online on time to print my boarding pass for Ryan Air, so I thought I would have to leave for the airport early ahead of the other girls.
2. I got on the wrong train to the Gatwick airport and ended up showing up 20 minutes later than the other girls.
3. Luckily, I still had plenty of time, due to the fact that there were no lines anywhere.
4. When we went to board the plane, the other girls couldn't get on because they hadn't checked their boarding passes in at the front, which I had.
5. So, I flew to Cork, and spent almost the entire weekend by myself. Which wasn't bad at all, just unplanned.
Friday night, I walked around Cork and got myself somewhat orientated. I got a slice of pizza, and had some old guy crossing the street try to take it from me. He stuck his hand out like he was going to grab it, and I just said, "hey!", jerked the pizza away, and kept walking. Friday night didn't go so well as the people above me were excruciatingly loud. All night. Until 7am, actually.
But, Saturday was beautiful enough to make up for the headache of the night before. I went to Blarney and toured the castle, grounds, and gardens for 3 hours. Then I ate "lunch" at 3pm at this place called "Mackies" in Blarney. I had traditional Irish Stew, which was beef, carrots, potatoes, and parsley in a bowl with bread. I also had Bailey's Coffee, which was incredibly tasty. After Mackies, I walked around Blarney a little more and waited for the bus. I heard a waiter talking to a group of American girls, and he said, "Yes, Americans are the loudest, but they are the most generous people. And the most polite and friendly." I was pretty happy when I heard that.
It's kind of frustrating sometimes, because there is so many misconceptions about Americans based on the government's actions. I think some people get the impression that since we are "of the people" that the people control everything the country does, and we (kids like me: individuals) are, therefore, to blame for the pain America has caused to other countries. Obviously, not all the British think that way. I have a lot of British friends that haven't so much as breathed a word of negativity towards me because of my nationality, or for any reason at all for that matter.
In fact, the majority of British people I have met are the most decent people you could possibly want to meet. They are considerate and kind. It's just a couple of them that seem to embody the nation's resentment towards America, but more afflicting, Americans.
Anyway, after I got back from Blarney, I tried to get in touch with the other girls, but I couldn't get a hold of them on their phones, so I set off for their hostel to personally pay them a visit. If they were there. I found them about 5:30 getting ready to go out for Halloween night. I am such a good sleuth: I deduced they would be there preparing to go out for Halloween, and I was exactly right. Haha!
This is going to sound strange, but there was the biggest pizza I have ever seen in that hostel. It was humongous! Bigger than Pizza Perfection's Monster pizza or anything. It must have been 3 feet in diameter AT LEAST. It was so big. There was a girl there also admiring the pizza from Philadelphia in Cork by herself.
Anyway, enough about my skills that do not so little resemble those of Sherlock Holmes....
OKay, so we had heard a rumor running around that there would be a Halloween Parade in Cork somewhere. So, out we went. We walked all the way down to the river, crossed it, then realized we were nowhere near the parade. Where was the parade in reality? Less than a block from the girls' hostel. Mm... It was mostly my fault because I had heard someone say it would be on main street... well, I didn't verify it, and although I knew where Main street was, um... yeah. It wasn't at main street.
You'd think I'd stop making mistakes like these, but sadly, I'm just getting used to making them.
Anyway, the parade was put on by a local church/community group and was really cool. There were lots of puppets and people in costume dancing and playing drums and acting out skits and neat things like that. I had a good time. The other girls left before the end, but I stayed until the last bow, and then returned to my hostel. I went to sleep early being so tired, and realizing I needed to catch the 9:30am bus for my flight.
I was just falling asleep when I was suddenly aware there was a very loud siren in my ears. I sat up in bed, I could barely hear myself think. What is going on? Is there a fire? I hopped out of my bunk bed in my pajamas and went ran into the manager of the hostel. There was no fire. It was the fog machine for the Halloween party. I really wish they had called on my expertise about fog machines. They are notorious for setting off fire alarms... Anyway, so for about every five minutes for half an hour, the fire alarm would just start going off. The manager just eventually shut down the whole system. And decided to see if it was still going to go off... at 11:30pm. After I had fallen asleep again. And it happened again at about 4 in the morning... mmm... But, otherwise, I was so tired from Blarney, I had a good night's sleep.
The next morning found me stealthily creeping from my room and onto the streets of Cork. I left quite early, so I had a little walk around for a while. And eventually got on the 9:30 bus to the airport. Once again, I accidentally got off at the wrong stop in the airport business park and ended up walking about two miles to the actual airport. However, it was a blessing in disguise because I had a few hours to wait at the airport and the exercise gave me a little more patience and cut into my wait time. It was also a beautiful, cold, clear, sunny day. And I got to enjoy more of it by walking than I would have otherwise. I into a couple of nice people in the airport hotel on my quest to find the airport.
At the airport (which was really nice, by the way) there were many sweet children, and the sunlight streaming through the warmed by back in such a lovely way. I ran into the girl from Philadelphia again and chatted with her for a bit.
Airports in the U.K. are so much faster than in the U.S. For international flights, you can get through check-in, security, and to your plane in under an hour. In the U.S. it takes HOURS just to get through check-in sometimes. I don't know why their system is so much faster. Maybe more people fly more regularly there and so they waste less time by being prepared. Or maybe the laws aren't quite as strict. You only have to take your shoes off here if they have metal on them, whereas in the U.S. everyone has to remove their shoes regardless of the kind of shoe it is.
I was so tired when I got back to my apartment that afternoon, being mostly sleep deprived all weekend. I tried everything to stay awake. I ended up reading some assignments, and then I went to bed early only to be woken up at 3:00am because of the fire alarm going off. Our whole building exited and stood in the courtyard awaiting the arrival of the staff. I swear, the staff for the halls of residence must think we are just an unlucky bunch. They are over here all the time fixing stuff that mysteriously stops working, or is broken.
Anyway, so that delayed my sleep again. It turns out it was, once again, fog that set it off. Except this fog drifted inside from a window on the third floor. Ugh.
So, for the remaining portion of the week, until Thursday, November 5th, I was rather lazy. I didn't accomplish much. Which seems to be an increasing trend in my schedule. I play ultimate frisbee on Wednesday, but otherwise, unmemorable. Except Tuesday the 3rd, a few of us flat mates went out to explore the culinary options of Brighton and wandered into the Franklin Tavern. Our curiosity being piqued by the painting of Benjamin Franklin on the wooden plaque outside of a colonial-style building. The food (mince pie, veg, and mash), was pretty good, although lacking a lot of flair, like a lot of British food. However, it was tasty in it's own right.
Thursday, however, was an explosion of excitement! Literally.
Guy Fawkes Day was one of the most bizarre things I have ever seen. More so because of the presence of a plethora of American iconography. The parades consisted of different groups in different themes walking up the streets of Lewes with banners, firebrands, and extremely loud firecrackers. Or, I would like to call them portable explosions. They were SO LOUD. Anyway, some of the themes of the parades included, American landing on the moon, Native Americans, American Revolution patriots, Civil War Confederates, Vietnam soldiers, World War II soldiers, and Mardi Gras costumes. Although, there were many British icons there as well: Dukes, kings, queens, and some Eastern, Asian, and African icons as well. It's just the amount of American icons there that threw me off. It was something totally unexpected. But England likes to do that to me: throw me unexpected curve balls constantly. I like it. Most of the time.
Me and a bunch of other Americans left our flat around 3pm, but while the other Americans decided to take the bus, I decided to go off on my own and take the train into Lewes since it would be, as I predicted, faster, and less congested. I bumped into Ed, a friend discovered in good ol' England and we rode in to Lewes together. We met with some other French people and explored Lewes a bit. A lot of the shops were boarding up their windows in the last dying hour of the day, foreboding a wild and intense night ahead. I wandered around with Ed, Vivi, and some other French people for a while, then met up with the Americans, saw a few parades, and then I split off from the group wanting to get a better view of events. I wandered up high street, bought myself a delicious toffee apple for one pound, and tried to keep my feet warm whilst waiting for the ensuing processions/insanity.
The heat was so intense. And once, a person in the parade so deftly sneakily pulled out a portable explosion, lit it, and it rolled casually to the curb where I happened to be standing. The crowd shrunk back in horrific anticipation, and then, the ground shook, a loud thud hit my eardrums through my hands, a light flashed for a blink, and then I was aware of a kid crying and screaming. Poor kid. It was rather exhilarating for me, but I can understand it being very frightening for a child. There was some sort of call and response which went something like this: "Olly olly (something)...." "Oi, Oi, Oi!". People were also covered in ashy coal and striped jumpers, their features blending into indistinguishable impishness, shouting angrily and carry their firebrands.
Eventually, I met back up with Ed and Vivi and the others and we walked outside of the main part of town towards one of the bonfires. However, once we got there, we discovered it was five pounds and would start for another half an hour. We decided it was not worth it, and returned to the main street, Ed and I seeing Vivi and the others off at the train station and then returning to the thick of it. We walked around the emptying main street and realized why the businesses boarded up their windows. There was mess everywhere. Glass, cups, streamers, smoldering embers, etc. We bought some festival food (I got a frankfurter with onions and mustard) and continued on our way, which eventually turned into a quest to find a bathroom. Or, toilet, as Ed would correct me with his British accent. So, instead, of course, we ended up standing in front of a humongous bonfire at least 20 feet high. Also, in the same place, was an impressive fireworks display that would give some 4th of July celebrations a run for their money, in terms of size and quantity of said fireworks displayed. Ed and I watched until the end of the fireworks show, and then booked it back towards the train station. We magically happened upon a bathroom, and a somewhat comical "Elderly People" sign. Then we found ourselves being squeezed from all sides by the massive crowd of train commuters trying to catch the train before the last one left the station at 12am. It was so packed, my weight was actually partially suspended and I wasn't holding my entire body weight up. Finally, we made it on the train and back to Falmer totally exhausted. We had been in Lewes with the explosions and fires for seven hours straight. It was some intense flame. I could feel my face burning all night with the fire rash.
Friday, the 6th was spent resting, baking brownies, taking a walk along the seafront, watching Men Who Stare at Goats at the Odeon, and playing ultimate frisbee. I was some what ill, it was windy and rainy, and so I was a little late getting to practice, but it was still pretty fun. Saturday was spent studying, amazingly. I looked up some references for my Propaganda class essay, which I will be writing about political cartoons. And I talked to one of my best friends Adam, which turned out to be a rather depressing conversation. But I still enjoyed it. The library is only open from 1pm to 4pm on the weekends, so I had to leave. I wandered around, I can't remember where, and spent the night in memory oblivion... I really don't remember what I did... I remember being alone most of the time because practically the entire building was gone to Paris that weekend.
Sunday, Ed and Vivi invited me to eat at Ed's apartment, and so I went across the road and down the hill to the other set of halls of residence and enjoyed meeting a new friend Stephane, another computer engineer from France, and a delicious plate of pasta, American TV shows, and a game of Hearts. A most pleasant way to spend and evening.
Monday brought a new week of classes, and Tuesday the 10th brought a new restaurant to my attention: Fat Leos. A very good Italian restaurant in the North Lanes. Afterwards, some of us went to the King and Queen to sing karaoke, which was good and bad, as always. That night I discovered that all Rum Hot Toddy's are not created equally. The Rum Hot Toddy at The Bear is a pleasant light drink with a lovely flavor, warm and rich. The Rum Hot Toddy at the King and Queen was a disgusting and just gross. I didn't even finish it. Blech. The taste still lingers sometimes when I think of it.
Anyway, Wednesday, brought another Ultimate frisbee session! Woohoo! However, it was played at the Sussex campus instead of the level, because it was a tournament of sorts. We got stomped every single game. And my left leg decided to stop working after the first game. It kept locking up on me, so I had to sit out the other two games that were played. An event which made me most disgusted. Anyway.. moving on to the awesome event on THURSDAY!
THURSDAY the 12th I SAW MUSE IN CONCERT IN LONDON!
Okay, for those of you who don't know, MUSE is one my of my all time favorite bands, right up there with David Bowie, The Killers, and Queen. Right up there at the tip-top of my list. And I got to see them in London, at the O2 Arena... They were absolutely amazing. They played nearly perfectly, but didn't play their music exactly the same as the album, which was nice. No, it was more than nice, it was freaking awesome!
Okay, I went to London shortly after getting out of my Genre and Film class, during which, ironically, guess what happened? The Fire alarm went off in the building during the lecture. So, after being desensitized because of all the previous fire-alarms, it came as no surprise.
But, I took the train to London, found my way on the tube to the O2 arena, then waited a couple of hours, grabbing some "traditional British Grub" at this place called S&M, which is like a Steak'n'Shake of British food. "British" but fast-food "British". Although, I was starving, and they gave me a lot of food to assuage my stomach pains, which was all I wanted, so I didn't go too in depth into the culinary expertise of the meal. The service was uncommonly bad, I but I really didn't care because I had time to kill. Although, it was interesting watching the staff stand around so efficiently. Their managers must be very proud.
The concert was incredible. I was happy I was in the very last row (U), mainly because I wasn't deaf when I got out of the concert, although it was a bit hard to see what was going on. However, I got to HEAR them live which is what I really wanted. The lineup was terrific, consisting of all of my favorite MUSE songs and more. The lighting design was fantastic, the stage design was also pretty awesome. Simple, effective, and dramatic. It was great. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, although I may have worried my fellow row occupants by head banging and dancing around a little wildly. But I just couldn't contain it. It was too much fun.
I caught the tube back to Victoria station, where I waited until 12:05 am for my train to Brighton to turn up. There was some guy who tried to cut in front of me at the coffee shop, which kind of pissed me off, but other than that, I had a good ride home. Although the trains were incredibly crowded, due to the MUSE concert, actually. The O2 Arena sits 20,000 people, and the MUSE concert was COMPLETELY SOLD OUT. It was a sight to behold. All of those people singing the same songs.
Surprisingly, a lot of the audience consisted of families and couples. There were also many youngsters. Not as many "young people" as I would have thought. And I did not see one single person immodestly dressed, which is what I was expecting, whilst typically thinking of a popular rock concert. But almost everyone was dressed in their hoodies, or long sleeve shirts, or suit jackets. It was pretty great.
Anyway, when I finally made it back to Brighton, of course the train to Falmer had left in an eon long ago, and so I walked out of the station, walked for about 20 feet, when the skies opened and began to dump rain on my head. I ducked and ran for about half a mile to the nearest Bus 25 stop. Running in the rain in little ballet flats, at two-thirty in the morning, was something out of reality. I was totally soaked, as I reached the bus stop just in time to flag down the bus pulling up along side me. I stepped through the doors like a wet draggled rat, my hair sticking to my face. I was so incredibly exhausted, but so happy, replaying the events of the night in my head.
The only bad thing about the concert was the one opening act for MUSE. They were terrible. They were called "The Pink", and they were the most screechy, one-note type of "music" I have ever heard. But, one interesting effect they had was the increased desire to hear MUSE (if there could ever be a stronger desire), and their act also brought a good bit of blood to my face with their flashing lights and high irregular guitar riffs. It also quickened my heart rate, much like a blood-curdling scream of a human or the howl of a pack of wolves would do. That's what it kept reminding me of. And it was just about as pleasant to listen to. But I figure their presence was to show how awesome MUSE was, and also to get the crowd woken up a bit, in case any of them were having trouble staying awake through all of the suspense.
Anyway, after finally winding down getting to bed at 3am I, needless to say, slept very late on Friday. I baked a large cake, and went to frisbee practice where I relayed all that I could about the MUSE concert to a fellow fan, and president of the frisbee club, Sam. After frisbee, we went to The Bear as usual and had a few drinks and played some darts. After which Sam, Pete, Dom, and I played frisbee at the Level under the dim sidewalk lights. It was so much fun.
Saturday, the American Office took us on a field trip to Rye and Bodiam. We saw Bodiam castle, which is a medieval castle (and one of the finest specimens in existence). It had a moat, and many cool chambers. We had fun playing all over the stone work and exploring every bit of the castle possible. We climbed to the highest tower and surveyed the country side and it started to rain. But quit again soon. Most of the field trip was spend in transit, so we didn't get to spend a lot of time looking around, but in Rye, we saw the old sea wall, which is now two miles away from the actual ocean, the old ship yard, and Mermaid Street, which is the oldest street in Rye, dating back to at least the 1300s. There was the Mermaid Bar and and Inn which has been in business since the 1430s, I think. Incredible history. Rye was a very beautiful town with narrow cobble stone streets and quaint buildings. Jen, Sam, and I ate at a local charity restaurant, where they help provide jobs for the mentally disabled and I had some terrific "Sausage Casserole", which was basically pork and beans, but oh so good. And English peas, which are still a favorite of mine.
After we finished, we went looking around in one of many antique stores. I saw some very interesting things... but we didn't have much time, so I couldn't look around Rye as much as I liked, and I got a Christmas present for one of my friends and we went back to the bus. We then rode back down the coast to Brighton, passing Eastbourne along the way. The wind was blowing so hard, the bus' windshield wipers were being blown off of the glass. The curling waves looked as if they were suspended in the surf with their white caps being blown in the opposite direction, all of the sea spray creating a salty haze in the sky and partially obscuring the sun. It was a wondrous thing to see. Eastbourne also has a pier, almost like Brighton's, except it seems to be run down and neglected. There were posters all over it saying, "You can Save this Pier!" and stuff like that. It was a good day. Sunday morning, So Young, Jennifer, Yeon Joo (all of whom are Catholic), and I went to a Catholic church near the seafront. It was a pretty nice church, but not having been to a church service in a couple of years, I got a rather different impression than the other girls, I think. The service was very similar to the Episcopalian services I have attended, although the sermon and gospel readings were more informal. The main "talk", I would call it, because it really wasn't much of a sermon so far as sermons go, was about the state of aid to developing countries, and those countries choices to invest their aid into weapons, which the countries providing the aid supplied to them. It was a very politically charged speech and was calling to light the importance of standing up what you believe in, even if it means death. All in all, it was not a bad service, but was not very well thought out. And the two priests did not seem to be very thrilled to be in each other's presence. It did make me rather yearn for an Episcopalian service, and perhaps this Sunday, I may make it to one...
After the service, we went and had an English breakfast at Bella's, a small cafe on St. James' street across the way from Morrison's. It was a very good breakfast. Then we rode back to the Flat, and I spent the rest of the day reading and listening to music until about 4 o'clock when I went out to play football with Vivi and some other French people out on the Falmer sports pitch. We played for about 2 hours, which I ran for almost the entire time. I was also goalie for a short time after having twisted my right knee a bit. After football, I cooked for Ed, Apryl, Stephane and I. And after we had supped, a conversation about Thanksgiving day broke out and the next thing that broke out was the paper and sharpie, and the next thing that broke out was a bunch of hand turkeys with emblems of "Americanism" drawn by Ed. I drew a picture of Stephane, and we just chatted away a bit. It was a really fun night. Monday, I only had one class because it was reading week for my Propaganda class. Monday night, I met up with one of my ultimate frisbee mates, Andy, and we went to the Brighton Ultimate shin dig in Hove. Since I had never been there before, of course we got lost. And ended up being forty-five minutes late. I was very stressed about it. I didn't want to be late to frisbee! But I'm glad Andy was with me, because he calmed me down a bit. We only got to play frisbee for less than an hour, which was only one game. Sad.
After that, Sam, Virgil, Andy, Ethan, and I chilled out in the pub by the Rugby field where we played frisbee and talked about our upcoming trip to Sweden (Jan. 26th- Feb. 3rd), which, needless to say, we are all entirely STOKED about! Andy and I caught the bus back home. I've noticed I spend most nights of the week in pubs. I only get a drink maybe twice a week at most, but it seems like half my time is spent in pubs. I guess that's the way they do it in England, because that's what the majority of my British friends do, even if they don't drink. But they are pretty nice to hang out in because they are warm, they smell of food (usually), you can stay until they close, and when it gets dark at 4:30pm, there really isn't much else you can do. Minus watching a movie which is more expensive, or playing frisbee in the dark... which is free. Am I a little obsessed? Yes, I think so. I actually start thinking of how I can work out so I can become faster and more effective at the game. I am going to join the gym next semester.
Tuesday the 17th, the weekly dinner night-out found us at the Gladstone pub at their Curry night, since the curry night at Falmer Bar (on the Sussex campus) was full... again... for the second time trying.
Ed and Stephane came along, and I had SPICY FOOD! It's the first real spicy food I've had since I've been here. And while it lacked a diversity of flavor, the spiciness was so nice to have tingling on my tongue, I didn't complain. I was just happy I was eating something that kicked me in the jaw. There was a quiz going on, which seemed like good fun, but we didn't join in, we watched instead. Next week, we will join in, probably. But Gladstone had decent food, the people were very nice. We had a good time. Most of us were bushed, though, so no King and Queen for karaoke, we went straight back to the flats and I showed Stephane and Ed the Homestarrunner and Trogdor, to which previously they were ignorant. I would like to think I educated them in www.homestarrunner.com, but I hardly think it would constitute as anything worth being educated in, however funny it is.
Wednesday, I had class again, and watched my weekly required movie for Genre and Film class. This week's movie being Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and analysing it through the criteria of the sci-fi genre. A very interesting movie, the basic point of which is memories and mistakes. It's a good movie. Definitely sci-fi, although there are no aliens or weird space ships. But it explored the mind as a strange world in which we live, and the people in our lives live as well. One of the best quotes in the movie was the patient is asking the doctor, "What about the risk of brain damage?", to which the doctor replies, "Well, technically, the procedure is brain damage".
Anyway, before I geek out about it too much, I will keep recording events.
Wednesday also saw more, guess what? FRISBEE! I am now involved in four different frisbee leagues (Brighton city, Brighton University, Brighton Indoor, and Brighton Women's), four to five days of the week. It is needless to say I am very hungry very often. But this makes me happy. Wednesday, last night, I left the pub early and wrote my Genre and film analysis, took a shower, and went to bed warm. Although, today, I woke up with a cough and feeling "like death" as they say. I went to Genre and Film class, took in Blade Runner which was a film I was most curious to see, and then came home, and I have been updating this ever since.
I know it has been far too long since I updated, and I apologize. It is now rectified, however, and pictures will be following shortly.
I must now take a nap before I go play frisbee tonight. Maybe if I get some sleep, I will feel better.
Speaking of sleep, for several days running, I dreamed peacefully of the ocean, whales, turtles and such. But for the past few nights, I have been having frightening dreams of violence in Africa...Weird.
Oh, and also, we got a new TV in our flat, which I watched last night. But, unfortunately, I watched the news... which was a bad thing to watch, because now I don't want to watch the new, flat screen TV any more. There was a bit on there about how the world population is going to almost double in the next 40 years, according to experts. So, what is their suggested solution? "Educate" women to only have one or two kids. Not because of food shortages or something like that, but because of carbon emissions. More kids would just create too much carbon, I guess! Well, it's a good thing they can tack all the responsibility on women. You know, it might be nice if they "educated" men about this "issue" as well, wouldn't it? But no, men, apparently, have no hand in controlling the world population. It's the women's "choice" to have less children. And somehow this will "empower" women. Okay, so if someone, a female, grew up in this "educated" system, and decided they wanted more than two children, would this make them uneducated?
I don't know if the news people spout this kind of crap with the intention of manipulating the information, or if it just magically happens by accident. But, this report deeply troubled me. Is still deeply troubling me. Since when did women just voluntarily have children on their own. Doesn't the responsibility of children also fall with men as well? I mean, just logically, it doesn't make sense. It takes two to tango. But, I guess no one organizing the clip wanted to talk about that.
I think this whole climate change thing has gotten out of hand. Oh, they said, they weren't going to make it like in China where it is illegal to have more than one child or whatever, it was going to be voluntary. But they made it clear that if A WOMAN didn't voluntarily comply, they would be "knowingly" dooming the rest of us to increased global warming. Thanks a lot to the UN for coming up with such an insulting solution. Thank you for blaming women for the increased numbers of children in the world and placing a large chunk of the responsibilities of the environmental issues on the heads of potential mothers and their potential children. To me, that's stepping in way too close to invading personal freedom. Educated choice. HAH. There can't be an educated choice if there is no alternative choices represented on equal footing. "Have one or two children and you'll be a good educated woman" Versus "Have more than two children and you will be part of the demise of the human race".
Uuuuuurrrgh.
Women consist of over half the population on earth. Why are we still treated and talked about as if we were irresponsible baby-producing-therefore-environment-destroying THINGS?! I just don't like the implication news stories like that disperse. It's in very bad taste and no logic at all. It's just sensationalist crap. And they always have people there to contest the the extremes of the view, the "yes" or the "no", but who do they have to represent the middle ground?! NO ONE!
ARRRRGH! The most frustrating thing is being a media student, and most of my studies revolve around how much things like this actually DO affect the culture. They aren't just things you can brush off, news has real consequences. Information is power. And when you package information in such a biased way, the power becomes biased. It helps no one.
I don't claim to be a feminist, but I do claim to be a humanist. We may have different body parts, and we may be different, but men are equal with women, and women are equal with men. End of story.
Cheers for reading!
Hannah
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The Strange Addiction, goof ups, and Ireland.
So, since things have settled down a bit here, and I'm getting into my more set routine, a lot of things don't seem so shocking.
So, this is just a little general overview of what's going on across the pond... or in England, depending on where you are.
First of all, I am enjoying my classes immensely, although I must say that Genre and Film and Science, Technology and the Media are my two favorite classes (of the four that I am taking). They all strike a lot of interest for me. I'm not sure why I like the other two best, but they are the ones I look forward to the most. Maybe I like the tutors better, or something. The other ones aren't bad in the least, but I think the others are better.
Oh yeah, and I have fallen in love. With this little game called, "Ultimate Frisbee". It has got to be the most fun game I have ever played. Soccer was pretty fun, but ultimate frisbee beats all for me. I am now playing it three times a week and have met some very nice people, and had some very good times whilst enjoying the game tremendously. The core of the people that show up like it very much as well, which I think helps the attitude. We all love the game so much. I'm not sure if it's the high-speed pace of the game, the combination of hand-eye coordination with grace and imagination, but whatever it is, Ultimate has got it. It is the Ultimate game. I like basket ball a lot as well, but I think I like Ultimate. The others on the team talk about how great it would be if were broadcast on TV or something, but I think tha would ruin the spirit of it. If it became hugely popular. I just hope I can still play it without being up against mean, ruthlessly competitive "winners". As long as I can enjoy it, I will play it.
What else.
Oh yes, Olives. Olives. Olives. Black Olives in Brine. I have gone through almost an entire kg in a week. I do not know what it is. But ever since I have gotten here, I have had this thought in the back of my head, "mmm, some olives would be nice", but I would always toss it down and say, "Nah, I'll spend my money on something else". But, I caved in last weekend and bought a huge family sized jar of the little gems and they were gone by Monday. Throughout this week, I would be walking around and I just wanted an olive. Or two. Or a million. I went to the store, but thinking that my craving for olives was a tad abnormal, I decided I wouldn't get them.
But... as I was waiting for the bus today by Sainsbury's, I could hear something calling my name. The olives. And then I could smell them, and then I could taste them, and then I went in and bought me another big jar... That was this afternoon. The jar is now less than half empty.
Problem? Yes. I think so. But a delicious problem, so I'm not going to do much arguing.
The South Downs are absolutely beautiful, as are the sunsets on said downs. The view from about a 20 minute hike/walk from the apartment complex is something out of a dream. Terrific. Words defy me. I will have some pictures up soon-ish. Probably on Sunday or Monday.
I'm trying to decide if I'm actually crazy enough to write a novel for National Novel Writing Month (November), or if I should just forget about it.
So Young, a friend of mine from South Korea, explained to me what is going on with the North Korean refugees. But that is for another blog. It's horribly depressing and I don't have the time at the moment. But, I will write about it soon.
Some common ways to not make stupid mistakes:
1. Make sure you know which building you are actually walking into when you're trying to find the bank.
2. Observe your surroundings. If the signs do not say "Lloyds TBS", but "Northern Rock" and the decor is black with flaming pink accents, assume you are not in Lloyds TBS.
3. Apologize profusely to the person with whom you've just wasted 15 minutes before closing time. That was the most horrible mistake I have ever made in my life.
4. Don't stand up on the lower deck of the bus when you are seated on the elevated seats, especially if you are wearing high heels.
5. Look like you know where you're going. Even if you don't. Even if you know you don't. Look it. But this often leads you into problems... like going into the wrong bank.
Ireland:
I am leaving for Cork, Ireland tomorrow and will arrive there at about 4:15pm. I am EXTREMELY excited to see Ireland. I am going with one of my flat mates, Laura and a few other girls from upstairs. I'm leaving on Sunday afternoon. I expect to have a cracker of a time.
So, yes! Expect some news and pictures from Cork.
I hope everyone who is reading this is well.
Cheers!
Hannah
So, this is just a little general overview of what's going on across the pond... or in England, depending on where you are.
First of all, I am enjoying my classes immensely, although I must say that Genre and Film and Science, Technology and the Media are my two favorite classes (of the four that I am taking). They all strike a lot of interest for me. I'm not sure why I like the other two best, but they are the ones I look forward to the most. Maybe I like the tutors better, or something. The other ones aren't bad in the least, but I think the others are better.
Oh yeah, and I have fallen in love. With this little game called, "Ultimate Frisbee". It has got to be the most fun game I have ever played. Soccer was pretty fun, but ultimate frisbee beats all for me. I am now playing it three times a week and have met some very nice people, and had some very good times whilst enjoying the game tremendously. The core of the people that show up like it very much as well, which I think helps the attitude. We all love the game so much. I'm not sure if it's the high-speed pace of the game, the combination of hand-eye coordination with grace and imagination, but whatever it is, Ultimate has got it. It is the Ultimate game. I like basket ball a lot as well, but I think I like Ultimate. The others on the team talk about how great it would be if were broadcast on TV or something, but I think tha would ruin the spirit of it. If it became hugely popular. I just hope I can still play it without being up against mean, ruthlessly competitive "winners". As long as I can enjoy it, I will play it.
What else.
Oh yes, Olives. Olives. Olives. Black Olives in Brine. I have gone through almost an entire kg in a week. I do not know what it is. But ever since I have gotten here, I have had this thought in the back of my head, "mmm, some olives would be nice", but I would always toss it down and say, "Nah, I'll spend my money on something else". But, I caved in last weekend and bought a huge family sized jar of the little gems and they were gone by Monday. Throughout this week, I would be walking around and I just wanted an olive. Or two. Or a million. I went to the store, but thinking that my craving for olives was a tad abnormal, I decided I wouldn't get them.
But... as I was waiting for the bus today by Sainsbury's, I could hear something calling my name. The olives. And then I could smell them, and then I could taste them, and then I went in and bought me another big jar... That was this afternoon. The jar is now less than half empty.
Problem? Yes. I think so. But a delicious problem, so I'm not going to do much arguing.
The South Downs are absolutely beautiful, as are the sunsets on said downs. The view from about a 20 minute hike/walk from the apartment complex is something out of a dream. Terrific. Words defy me. I will have some pictures up soon-ish. Probably on Sunday or Monday.
I'm trying to decide if I'm actually crazy enough to write a novel for National Novel Writing Month (November), or if I should just forget about it.
So Young, a friend of mine from South Korea, explained to me what is going on with the North Korean refugees. But that is for another blog. It's horribly depressing and I don't have the time at the moment. But, I will write about it soon.
Some common ways to not make stupid mistakes:
1. Make sure you know which building you are actually walking into when you're trying to find the bank.
2. Observe your surroundings. If the signs do not say "Lloyds TBS", but "Northern Rock" and the decor is black with flaming pink accents, assume you are not in Lloyds TBS.
3. Apologize profusely to the person with whom you've just wasted 15 minutes before closing time. That was the most horrible mistake I have ever made in my life.
4. Don't stand up on the lower deck of the bus when you are seated on the elevated seats, especially if you are wearing high heels.
5. Look like you know where you're going. Even if you don't. Even if you know you don't. Look it. But this often leads you into problems... like going into the wrong bank.
Ireland:
I am leaving for Cork, Ireland tomorrow and will arrive there at about 4:15pm. I am EXTREMELY excited to see Ireland. I am going with one of my flat mates, Laura and a few other girls from upstairs. I'm leaving on Sunday afternoon. I expect to have a cracker of a time.
So, yes! Expect some news and pictures from Cork.
I hope everyone who is reading this is well.
Cheers!
Hannah
Monday, October 26, 2009
The Postmodernism Theory- Just some thoughts about my classes at Uni of B
For some reason, I feel my mental capacities to be totally awakened at the moment, so I won't miss this rare opportunity to tackle the liquid theory of Postmodernism.
The first thing that we must first understand about Postmodernism, is it's acute lack of understandability. It's an ideology that is to be accepted, not contested, and therefore "transcends" (or in my opinion, purposefully degrades) understanding.
For example:
Looking at my previous blog, I said, "I can't change my world".
That is a very Postmodern statement because I am accepting that things are just the way they are, and there's really nothing I can do about it. It's sort of a self-defeating theory because the word Postmodernism is a word employed to understand this thing or time-flux we currently find ourselves in.
Upon closer scrutiny of my remark, I do not actually think I can not change "MY" world. I can change MY world. It's very easy to change one's own world. But, I think what I meant more to say is that I can not change THE world. There are situations that, no matter how desperately I wish they did not exist (like child abuse, rape, murder, etc.), there is nothing I can do to stop all of these things happening to everybody. I can keep myself from these things, maybe prevent these things in MY world. But my world occupies only a tiny, infinitesimal space in the "real" world, if you will.
What I think Postmodernism is, more than anything, is the existence of individual spheres, each with their own unique mix of cultural identities, products, things, materials, knowledge, education, etc. Everyone has a unique and individual approach to life. Postmodernism simply "accepts" things the way they are by NOT imposing an over-arching social structure. In this way, Postmodernism accepts individuality as part of the inevitable, "That's the way it is" approach.
It is obvious that the Postmodern era is not an apathetic one. Issues are still hotly contested, fought over, and argued.
I think that we can't see what's under our own noses, however obvious it might seem once we step back (or progress forward in time) and observe the era in another context.
I always say it's impossible to self-analyze, because to analyze, you need a source of comparison, and if you're comparing yourself to yourself using yourself, you're just going to end up chasing your own tale/tail.
This is unproductive and looks quite silly.
And does anyone actually understand WHY a dog chases it's tail?
So, that being said.
I think the whole idea of Postmodernism, as regarding trying to decode it TODAY, as a source of understanding is silly. Because, like I said, the defining quality of Postmodernism is it's remarkable lack of the ability to be understood, or explain itself. It's just a piece of fuzz floating in this space called "time".
I say live YOUR life, and figure out how to define it after your actions have defined it for you.
In this way, my earlier blog referencing Two Face, still holds true to me. You make the best decisions you can based on the knowledge you have, or the odds in (or not in) your favor. The rest, is chance.
We can always change our own worlds, simply by the way we think. When someone has a revelation, or a spiritual awakening, what happens first? The way they think changes. They might no longer see God as a heartless dictator, or they no longer see the world as a truly unloving place. But it's their THOUGHTS about the world around them that changes, not necessarily the world itself. The "world" is a personal perception, and we all strive to get the clearest, most truthful and accurate perception possible. But who is to say this perception is "right" or "wrong" or "bad" or "stupid" or "good" or whatever, without first acknowledging their own perception of the world. How you shape your world is how you perceive it. And how you perceive your world shapes your actions.
Then, there is of course other people that are part of your world, and you are a part of theirs. Whether these other "people" belong to the metaphysical world, or the physical one, they still constitute an important aspect of the individual world.
The self-explanation that is very popular in America, the very definitive positions of oneself one hears all the time, what I like to call the "iCulture". Not only does this serve as a nice crossover of consumerism with a nice reference to the "iPod", "iTunes", etc., but taken from another spelling, "eye culture", it also explains that what we understand is what we "see", in a literal and metaphorical sense (hearing stories, gossip, recognizing stereotypes, etc.), and what we see shapes our world and what we understand as OUR culture. "Our" not so much in a collective sense, but "our" as in an individual sense.
In this way, Postmodernism, in my humble opinion, is bunk. Because, honestly, how can we say an entire era in a consumer democracy society (OUR society) can be defined under a single word? Postmodernism takes things as they are, because that's all the philosophers who came up with Postmodernism could think of.
Probably because they were slightly bored and wanted to use their brains for something (like me). But they couldn't figure out exactly what's going on, because like I said, self-analyzation is like chasing your tail.
The dog's going to run out of energy sometime. Or, he'll keep going at least until something else distracts him. Maybe Postmodernism is just waiting for the next distraction.
Postmodernism seems kind of A.D.D. and random to me...
Note the subtle tie to today's youth culture there?
I hope you did.
Thanks for reading my brain ooze.
Cheers!
Hannah
The first thing that we must first understand about Postmodernism, is it's acute lack of understandability. It's an ideology that is to be accepted, not contested, and therefore "transcends" (or in my opinion, purposefully degrades) understanding.
For example:
Looking at my previous blog, I said, "I can't change my world".
That is a very Postmodern statement because I am accepting that things are just the way they are, and there's really nothing I can do about it. It's sort of a self-defeating theory because the word Postmodernism is a word employed to understand this thing or time-flux we currently find ourselves in.
Upon closer scrutiny of my remark, I do not actually think I can not change "MY" world. I can change MY world. It's very easy to change one's own world. But, I think what I meant more to say is that I can not change THE world. There are situations that, no matter how desperately I wish they did not exist (like child abuse, rape, murder, etc.), there is nothing I can do to stop all of these things happening to everybody. I can keep myself from these things, maybe prevent these things in MY world. But my world occupies only a tiny, infinitesimal space in the "real" world, if you will.
What I think Postmodernism is, more than anything, is the existence of individual spheres, each with their own unique mix of cultural identities, products, things, materials, knowledge, education, etc. Everyone has a unique and individual approach to life. Postmodernism simply "accepts" things the way they are by NOT imposing an over-arching social structure. In this way, Postmodernism accepts individuality as part of the inevitable, "That's the way it is" approach.
It is obvious that the Postmodern era is not an apathetic one. Issues are still hotly contested, fought over, and argued.
I think that we can't see what's under our own noses, however obvious it might seem once we step back (or progress forward in time) and observe the era in another context.
I always say it's impossible to self-analyze, because to analyze, you need a source of comparison, and if you're comparing yourself to yourself using yourself, you're just going to end up chasing your own tale/tail.
This is unproductive and looks quite silly.
And does anyone actually understand WHY a dog chases it's tail?
So, that being said.
I think the whole idea of Postmodernism, as regarding trying to decode it TODAY, as a source of understanding is silly. Because, like I said, the defining quality of Postmodernism is it's remarkable lack of the ability to be understood, or explain itself. It's just a piece of fuzz floating in this space called "time".
I say live YOUR life, and figure out how to define it after your actions have defined it for you.
In this way, my earlier blog referencing Two Face, still holds true to me. You make the best decisions you can based on the knowledge you have, or the odds in (or not in) your favor. The rest, is chance.
We can always change our own worlds, simply by the way we think. When someone has a revelation, or a spiritual awakening, what happens first? The way they think changes. They might no longer see God as a heartless dictator, or they no longer see the world as a truly unloving place. But it's their THOUGHTS about the world around them that changes, not necessarily the world itself. The "world" is a personal perception, and we all strive to get the clearest, most truthful and accurate perception possible. But who is to say this perception is "right" or "wrong" or "bad" or "stupid" or "good" or whatever, without first acknowledging their own perception of the world. How you shape your world is how you perceive it. And how you perceive your world shapes your actions.
Then, there is of course other people that are part of your world, and you are a part of theirs. Whether these other "people" belong to the metaphysical world, or the physical one, they still constitute an important aspect of the individual world.
The self-explanation that is very popular in America, the very definitive positions of oneself one hears all the time, what I like to call the "iCulture". Not only does this serve as a nice crossover of consumerism with a nice reference to the "iPod", "iTunes", etc., but taken from another spelling, "eye culture", it also explains that what we understand is what we "see", in a literal and metaphorical sense (hearing stories, gossip, recognizing stereotypes, etc.), and what we see shapes our world and what we understand as OUR culture. "Our" not so much in a collective sense, but "our" as in an individual sense.
In this way, Postmodernism, in my humble opinion, is bunk. Because, honestly, how can we say an entire era in a consumer democracy society (OUR society) can be defined under a single word? Postmodernism takes things as they are, because that's all the philosophers who came up with Postmodernism could think of.
Probably because they were slightly bored and wanted to use their brains for something (like me). But they couldn't figure out exactly what's going on, because like I said, self-analyzation is like chasing your tail.
The dog's going to run out of energy sometime. Or, he'll keep going at least until something else distracts him. Maybe Postmodernism is just waiting for the next distraction.
Postmodernism seems kind of A.D.D. and random to me...
Note the subtle tie to today's youth culture there?
I hope you did.
Thanks for reading my brain ooze.
Cheers!
Hannah
Sunday, October 25, 2009
My Night Life
My Night Life.
The weather has taken a chilly turn in Brighton, bringing strong winds and clouds and rain with it. Today, it has cleared up and the sun is shining, but the wind is still blustering about robustly. Wearing sweaters or, "jumpers" are now a necessity for going outside (and even indoors if it's at our flat!).
On Wednesday, Ed, one of the people from the Ultimate Frisbee club, let me borrow a couple of large mixing bowls and so, on Thursday I baked some biscuits. They turned out pretty well considering I didn't have buttermilk, and I they were whole-wheat. I didn't realize I had bought whole-wheat self-rising flour at Sainsbury's. But, I guess I did.
I took them to ultimate practice on Friday, and that night when we were hanging out at The Bear (an ultimate tradition), all 17 of them were devoured quite quickly. I was happy they enjoyed the "American" biscuits.
Friday was a good night. That night I dreamed, among other things, that there were pianos sitting on every street corner and were open and free to play. Yesterday, Catt and I went to the pier to see if the aquarium was open. We got a Moo Moo milk shake, which was incredibly delicious (and heavy!). We played in the arcade for a bit, because we discovered the aquarium had already closed and then we were walking back to the bus stop, and WHAT should happen to be sitting behind our bus stop? Yep. A piano.
Dreams really do come true, you know.
We caught our bus back home. And I hung out in my flat for a couple hours until I decided I was going back. I was so hyper and keyed up, waiting for the bus to get there was almost unbearable. You'd think I was going to play at the Carnegie center, or something. I was so excited. I ran to see if it was still there. And it was. No one had moved it, it wasn't busted, it was just as it had been earlier that day. Words can not express the happiness I felt when I beheld that little worn, tired piano, sitting so patiently behind the bus stop at the Pavilion. I played on it for almost two hours, during which several people came up to me, talked to me, played their own music, and sang along to the songs I was playing (mostly, "Hallelujah", because I couldn't really remember any more). I did take a hat, just to see if people would pay me, but once I got there, I didn't really want anyone's money. It was just fun to sit there and play. It had been so long. It's ridiculous how much I enjoy playing the piano and singing. However, one person did ask me, "do you have a cup or something I can put money in?". So, I think it goes without saying that I could have made some money at it. But I'm sort of glad I didn't. Although, it is good to know that I could. I felt like I was dreaming. At one point, there were about five people singing "Hallelujah" with me and we were all trying to remember the next verses. I taught someone to play the little "fist roll" song, as I call it. Someone showed me how to play "Hey, Jude", and I played a couple of originals that received favorable feedback. It was the first time I actually had some conversation with strangers. They were all very willing to talk to me, which I have find to be kind of rare. A lot of people took pictures, too. But, for once, all those people watching didn't bother me. Usually, when I play the piano, the more people watching, the harder and harder it is. But not last night. I think I was so desperate for playing the piano, it didn't make a bit of difference to me. *sigh*, it was lovely.
I think next time, if there's no piano available, I'll go sing jazz tunes a cappella, or something. If I need laundry money. That's a joke.
But, THAT is my idea of a night out. I had the time of my life. And there are so many people who can play amazingly! It was so nice to hear them play. I enjoyed every second of it.
Today, daylight savings time kicked in, which means I get some extra time today, so I'm going down the pier again, to see if the aquarium is open today.
Who knows what's actually going to happen.
Life, like I had said before, is a never ending surprise.
And I have discovered I have a strange addiction to olives.
From me, having a blast in Brighton, to you: have a fantastic day!
Cheers!
Hannah
The weather has taken a chilly turn in Brighton, bringing strong winds and clouds and rain with it. Today, it has cleared up and the sun is shining, but the wind is still blustering about robustly. Wearing sweaters or, "jumpers" are now a necessity for going outside (and even indoors if it's at our flat!).
On Wednesday, Ed, one of the people from the Ultimate Frisbee club, let me borrow a couple of large mixing bowls and so, on Thursday I baked some biscuits. They turned out pretty well considering I didn't have buttermilk, and I they were whole-wheat. I didn't realize I had bought whole-wheat self-rising flour at Sainsbury's. But, I guess I did.
I took them to ultimate practice on Friday, and that night when we were hanging out at The Bear (an ultimate tradition), all 17 of them were devoured quite quickly. I was happy they enjoyed the "American" biscuits.
Friday was a good night. That night I dreamed, among other things, that there were pianos sitting on every street corner and were open and free to play. Yesterday, Catt and I went to the pier to see if the aquarium was open. We got a Moo Moo milk shake, which was incredibly delicious (and heavy!). We played in the arcade for a bit, because we discovered the aquarium had already closed and then we were walking back to the bus stop, and WHAT should happen to be sitting behind our bus stop? Yep. A piano.
Dreams really do come true, you know.
We caught our bus back home. And I hung out in my flat for a couple hours until I decided I was going back. I was so hyper and keyed up, waiting for the bus to get there was almost unbearable. You'd think I was going to play at the Carnegie center, or something. I was so excited. I ran to see if it was still there. And it was. No one had moved it, it wasn't busted, it was just as it had been earlier that day. Words can not express the happiness I felt when I beheld that little worn, tired piano, sitting so patiently behind the bus stop at the Pavilion. I played on it for almost two hours, during which several people came up to me, talked to me, played their own music, and sang along to the songs I was playing (mostly, "Hallelujah", because I couldn't really remember any more). I did take a hat, just to see if people would pay me, but once I got there, I didn't really want anyone's money. It was just fun to sit there and play. It had been so long. It's ridiculous how much I enjoy playing the piano and singing. However, one person did ask me, "do you have a cup or something I can put money in?". So, I think it goes without saying that I could have made some money at it. But I'm sort of glad I didn't. Although, it is good to know that I could. I felt like I was dreaming. At one point, there were about five people singing "Hallelujah" with me and we were all trying to remember the next verses. I taught someone to play the little "fist roll" song, as I call it. Someone showed me how to play "Hey, Jude", and I played a couple of originals that received favorable feedback. It was the first time I actually had some conversation with strangers. They were all very willing to talk to me, which I have find to be kind of rare. A lot of people took pictures, too. But, for once, all those people watching didn't bother me. Usually, when I play the piano, the more people watching, the harder and harder it is. But not last night. I think I was so desperate for playing the piano, it didn't make a bit of difference to me. *sigh*, it was lovely.
I think next time, if there's no piano available, I'll go sing jazz tunes a cappella, or something. If I need laundry money. That's a joke.
But, THAT is my idea of a night out. I had the time of my life. And there are so many people who can play amazingly! It was so nice to hear them play. I enjoyed every second of it.
Today, daylight savings time kicked in, which means I get some extra time today, so I'm going down the pier again, to see if the aquarium is open today.
Who knows what's actually going to happen.
Life, like I had said before, is a never ending surprise.
And I have discovered I have a strange addiction to olives.
From me, having a blast in Brighton, to you: have a fantastic day!
Cheers!
Hannah
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Past Couple of Weeks
I can't remember exactly what date I left off, but since the last time I wrote, I have been to London again, which was a lot of fun. It was more of an over-view tour, walking along rather than stopping and looking at things in depth. I went for an interview in Greenwich about being in a band as a pianist.
I began my classes on Oct. 5th, and have since then already presented one of my required presentations (phew).
The last couple of weeks have mostly been spent in quiet reflection of the differences between British culture and American culture, listening to music, reading, drawing, watching movies, and playing ultimate frisbee. The most exciting thing that has really happened recently was receiving a black eye from playing a game of Ultimate frisbee. Last night (the 20th), I sang karaoke at the King and Queen pub, and had fun doing that. Slowly, but surely, I am becoming assimilated to the culture. It is taking me a while, especially since I know I will be here for many more months.
My classes are all of the media variety, which is good because I haven't taken a media class in a couple of years. I am taking:
1. Popular Music and the media
2. Propaganda, Persuasion, and Political Communication
3. Science, Technology, and the Media
4. Genre and Film
I love all of my classes and find them all so interesting. I've got some of my favorite subjects covered: Music, politics, science, and films. So, I am happy. The classes are mostly reading, class discussion, and analysis.
When something more exciting happens, I will post it. But for right now, that is all that has been happening.
More later.
Ciao!
I began my classes on Oct. 5th, and have since then already presented one of my required presentations (phew).
The last couple of weeks have mostly been spent in quiet reflection of the differences between British culture and American culture, listening to music, reading, drawing, watching movies, and playing ultimate frisbee. The most exciting thing that has really happened recently was receiving a black eye from playing a game of Ultimate frisbee. Last night (the 20th), I sang karaoke at the King and Queen pub, and had fun doing that. Slowly, but surely, I am becoming assimilated to the culture. It is taking me a while, especially since I know I will be here for many more months.
My classes are all of the media variety, which is good because I haven't taken a media class in a couple of years. I am taking:
1. Popular Music and the media
2. Propaganda, Persuasion, and Political Communication
3. Science, Technology, and the Media
4. Genre and Film
I love all of my classes and find them all so interesting. I've got some of my favorite subjects covered: Music, politics, science, and films. So, I am happy. The classes are mostly reading, class discussion, and analysis.
When something more exciting happens, I will post it. But for right now, that is all that has been happening.
More later.
Ciao!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Let's Play Catchup! Scotland day three and this past week's events:
Thursday, October 1st.
I woke up bright and early around 7:30 and started moving around. Apryl awoke shortly thereafter and we got ready for the day, packing and cleaning out the locker, getting ready to check out. We checked out and left out backpacks at the Hostel while we went out. We stopped by Starbuck's on the way out and I had and "extremely fruity scone" and a vanilla latte, which was probably the best coffee I've had a Starbuck's ever. We talked to a nice guy from Canada who was visiting Edinburgh with his son. We had a talk about children's literacy, or lack thereof, and he blamed it on the parents. While this is true, if parents do not encourage their children to read or do not read to them, this finger pointing still does not solve the problem. Kids need tutors. Man, I should really be a volunteer teacher or something. I don't think I would want to be an actual teacher, just like what my friend Mike does. A student helper.
Anyway, we went to the Edinburgh Castle and toured all the sights. The oldest building is St. Mary's chapel, which was built in the 1100's, I think. There was a bunch of theoretical history projected into the tour, just because they are not sure what exactly happened as written records are rare (or do not exist).
They redesigned the castle in the 19th century, and there were some plans for French Castle style, but thank goodness that didn't pull through. It did not fit into the Scottish style one bit. It was very ornate and floofy looking. Not something you would find designed, or thought up by, a Scot.
Anyway, the design was mostly applied to the main gates, although some of the buildings were fixed up a bit.
The Crown jewels of Scotland are stored there, along with the Stone of Destiny (Scotland's Throne, essentially). They were kept in hiding in a chest for 300 years. 300 YEARS!!! Until Sir Walter Scott asked the British government if he could open the chest. Many people were fearful that they were stolen long ago, but it turns out they were exactly as had been left, wrapped in cloth in the bottom of the trunk. In the exhibit, there was enormous buildup about the Scottish kings and Queens of the past, but not a whole lot of it had to do with the actual crown jewels (maybe during so-and-so's reign, a gem was added here, or the style changed a little there), but it is all rather dry and uninteresting, and there's too much of it for me to remember, so I hope you're not disappointed if I skip over to, what I think is, a more interesting part of the tour.
Anyway, after Sir Walter Scott got them uncovered (no wonder he is Scotland's hero), they went to England. They didn't not return to Scotland until the the 1990s, along with the stone of destiny, sanctioned by Queen Elizabeth II. I had not realized it was so recently. All of the Scots were very excited about the return of their Throne and jewels, which brings to light and interesting fact.
The political party in power in Scotland at the moment is the Scottish National Party (SNP). This party is very interested in reviving Scottish traditions (not the witch burnings) and bringing awareness to national pride. Scottish national pride (as if they needed any more of it). There were posters everywhere in Edinburgh saying, "Homecoming Scotland" and "Homecoming 2010" and things like that, with the Scottish flag waving all over the place. What this has to do with the stone and crown jewels is this: in a couple of years, if the SNP can pull it off, they are drawing it up now, there will be legislature petitioning to England and the U.K. to allow Scotland to (A. Have more rights and power as part of the U.K. (B. Remain in the U.K. as at present (C. Separate from the U.K. entirely and have a separate Scottish country. People are buzzing because the Stone of Destiny is resting in Edinburgh Castle now (the ruling place of Scotland), and it is said, as I said in an earlier entry that, "Wherever the stone lies, there Scotland shall be ruled"... Or something to that effect. Since the stone is now in Scotland, it would seem to follow that the Scots should get their own government again.
While I think this would be a great opportunity for Scotland, I think if they get a good amount of votes in favor for a separate country (like the SNP hopes), they are going to need to borrow a lot of money (for government setup, military defenses, etc.), and the world economic state, as it is now, might not be the best place to apply to.
I think, if they do get enough 'yes' votes, it will take many years before the separation actually occurs. At least, I would hope so. I don't think a violent break would benefit anyone. BUT! I am not a U.K. citizen, so I can't honestly say I am invested, however, it is an event worth following.
In Edinburgh castle, we also visited the prisons. Surprisingly, there were many Americans held there during the Revolutionary War. I have some photos of the American markings they found, such as a picture of a man hanging on the gallows with the words "Lord Nord" above it. Lord Nord, was apparently the much hated man who raised the taxes in "the colonies" and, they peg the blame on him, single handedly caused the Boston Tea Party and the fight for independence. When the war was over, all of the prisoners were freed, except for the Americans, because they hated "the rebels".
I was surprised to find so much American history in Scotland. They represented them somewhat humorously, I suppose...
It's so strange to hear what people think America is like. A lot of people have told me they are afraid of the gangsters. Which, I think is hilarious. Or they make remarks, like about the one o-clock gun going off, "If you're American, you'll probably think it's a drive by shooting and take to the ground."... Speaking of the one o'clock gun, we were up in the Castle when it went off... that was fun. I did jump a little, but I didn't think it was a drive by shooting, or whatever.
But really. I can not decipher (as yet) if they poke fun at Americans because they don't like them, or if it's just fun to do. The British kind of poke fun at everyone. And a lot of British people have this feeling that I, as an American, am very competitive with Canada and Britain... Perhaps I am a little bit prideful when I say this but, what do we really have in competition with them? We are all self-sustaining countries... well, mostly. We all have resources, but none of us are lacking in anything that we really NEED. We all have farms for food, and wood (or bricks) for buildings. I met a person who was half Canadian, and he made a face like, "it's bad"... and I asked him, "What's wrong with being Canadian" and he said, "Well because there's a lot of rivalry."
"Between who? The U.S. and Canada"
"Yeah."
I just laughed. For some reason, I never thought of the U.S. having a rivalry with Canada. I just the country ignored them (we pretty much do)... except during the Winter Olympics... maybe that's what he's talking about.
But if you think about it, isn't every country a rival to another? Even if it's just a friendly rivalry, like New Zealand and Australia. Heck, Scotland has an INTENSE rivalry with England, and they haven't been separated, as countries, in over 500 years!
Well, anyway, the prison was interesting. The memorial to "the Great War" (WWI) built in 1929 (I think?) was very beautiful, and definitely designed in the 1920's. There was the heavy, art deco, geometric approach to nearly all the decorations, but it was beautiful. It had all the names of the fallen written in books. And then a special memorial for those unaccounted for. War memorials always make me want to cry. Especially when I see little children running around in them. Maybe this is a little overly sentimental of me, but I can't help it. Just knowing that those kids may not have been here today if a series of impossibly unpredictable events led to their ancestor's survival. Life really is a blessing.
After we saw the Edinburgh Castle, we walked back to the Hostel, but not before stopping in the National Scottish Museum. It was pretty small, but absolutely beautiful, and free. It consists of two buildings but we only went in the permanent display one. The other is used for special exhibits and costs money. Not like I'm opposed to spending money going into a museum, but we didn't have the time. There were many excellent paintings, and the room layouts were wonderful. Classic, but in a different way from Buckingham Palace. Classic Scottish, I suppose, which I was "in tune" with much better. There were also some ancient Greek artifacts which I thoroughly enjoyed. There were Degas, Van Gogh, Monet, Gauguin, and other famous impressionist painter, which I can't remember right now. It was heaven! Many lovely landscapes, as well as portraits. So many nice paintings!
We walked back to the Hostel and picked up our backpacks, and then went in search for postcards. We walked down along the Parliament building again, and saw some TV reporters talking to, I assume, a government member. I got the really mean idea to go up to them and start asking for directions or something, but I decided not to. My evil side is squelched, once again... thank goodness. It's a good thing I've got a strong will to resist such evil urges! Just kidding. Moving on.
Nothing much happened, we just tooled around, found some postcards, and then got on the bus back to the airport. We stayed in the Old Town Edinburgh for our entire stay. Except for when we walked by Princes Street. But we did not go beyond Princes Street in the New Town. I had forgotten completely about it. The Old Town is so lovely and full of sights.
Security was quick and painless and therefore, rather not worth talking about.
In the airport I found some sour candy that was actually sour. And I bought a couple of books, "The Fabulous Mr. Fox" by Roald Dahl and "Princess Diaries: Ten for Ten" by Meg Cabot, the last in the series. Needless to say, I became very engrossed with the latter book and read it continually in the airport, on the plane, on the train, on the bus, and in my bed until I finished it at 2am. I knew it would happen. But I willed myself NOT to look at the clock so I wouldn't get tired so I could finish the book. I like the Princess Diaries books to a pitiful degree. It's just, how can you resist all of the teen romance? I completely skipped what most people deem as "high school", so I like reading about it. It makes me feel young again! That's a joke.
Anyway, so, since I had my nose stuck in the book, I didn't really notice anything else...
Friday, Oct. 2nd was uneventful. I slept late and ate a banana...
Saturday, Oct. 3rd, Mary and Zoe (our American Office advisers) took us on a trip to East Sussex. Our first stop was the chalk cliffs at Beachy Head, the famous suicide spot. People come from all over the country just to jump off the cliffs there. There was actually an old wrecked car at the bottom of one of the points. The little kid that was with us said so, but Mary said, "I don't believe you". I looked where the kid was looking, and darned if he wasn't right. It was kind of hidden under some grass, but there it was.
A little grotesque.
But, the government does nothing to stop it. The Samaritans (like the Good Sam club in the U.S.) have taken to patrolling the cliffs. They are located on the South Downs, which is a huge wildlife preservation area. It's about to become a National Park, I think.
After that we went to Afriston, a small "Chocolate Box Village" (as they say here in good old England), and looked around. There was an old St. Andrews (Scotland's Patron Saint) Church and looked at the insides. I split off from the group and walked around by myself for a bit in the graveyard. It was a lovely overcast day. Then I walked on a public path for a bit, then turned and went into the middle of town, down a little lane. It was only wide enough for one and a half people. But I met no on else. I went to the chocolate shop, where I bought some Turkish Delight (yum!), and individual chocolates in Irish Cream, Grand Marnier, Rhubarb, and something else I forgot (but it tasted good... they all tasted so good). I walked around the more residential district of Alfriston and then we climbed in the bus again and off we went to the a small pub for lunch. But not before seeing the "Seven Sisters" which are naturally coursing streams through the South Downs. They were very picturesque, and I hope I snapped a couple of good photos of them. They are just field streams, but vitally important to the wildlife in the area.
We got to the pub, I was so hungry, having not eaten that day, and ordered "Paul's Special", which is cheese and tomato sauce on bread.... it was the best pizza I've had here, so far. And Mushroom Stroganoff, which isn't in my spell checker, haha! I ate a lot. But it felt good.
Lemonade here, by the way, tastes suspiciously exactly like a flat Sprite. With more water.
I played drawing games with Charlie (the kid who saw the car), and we rode in the front seat together to Battle Abbey. Battle Abbey is where they fought the Battle of Hastings in 1066 (what other Battle of Hastings is there?), which was a turning point in Anglo-Saxon and Norman rule of England (the Normans won). Battle Abbey was erected by Norman King William to commemorate the brave Anglo-Saxon warriors, especially leader of the Saxons, King Harold. Battle Abbey was built where he fell. A rather noble gesture by King William, I think. Where they actually fought the battle is just an English field and stands out about as much as nothing. The signs weren't very informative, mostly a lot of, "And the Brave King Harold rallied his warriors!" sort of thing.
The Abbey is very beautiful inside. Very bare, and the years have eaten the polish from the stones, but the vaulted ceiling is still as awesome as it could have ever been. Even though it is not very big, and even though the ages have dimmed it's glory, somewhat, you can still get the feeling that the Abbey was once a work of perfection. They had some of the storage areas still about, and some garden walls were still standing, but the actual original church built was torn down by some idiots in the 18th century. If you know me, you know my extreme dislike for people who destroy ancient buildings or statues, or any art (do not get me started on the heretical burnings of the Alexander the Great's Libraries!!!).
Well, across from the Abbey is a large castle, which is still used today as a school. Lucky kids, I say.
Speaking of kids, in the Garden, there were these things lying on the ground. These things that come off the trees that are called, "Conkers". Apparently, children in the U.K. collect them, tie strings to them, and hit other kid's conkers with their own. If your conker cracks someone else's conker, you've got a good conker. And the point of all of it is to find the best conker out there. Sounds like fun to me! They look like avocado pits. I had never seen them before. Anyway...
The museum was interesting. There were a lot of old Monk's work and some tiles that were on the floor. The most priceless items are on display at the British Museum, so I will have to go there to check it all out. I went up some of the little staircases and found a tiny little room in one of the towers. It was well lit, so I know I wasn't up there illegally or anything, but it was cool because the door hinge pegs were still embedded in the stone.
I was feeling quite sick at this point, so I decided to leave and got a Coke across the street at the little Post Office and joined the others at the van.
It was a pleasant ride back with Charlie. He got a new book: A Thousand Years on the Same Street and kept asking me what I liked better? The building from the 1700s, or the building from the late 1800s? Would I like living in 1000ad, or in the 1400s? Etc. We held our breath going through the tunnel, and I counted how long he could hold his breath (43 seconds...not bad for a 10 year old). He asked me how long I could do it (about a minute) and to show him, but was seriously feeling ill, and I knew I would start coughing uncontrollably if I tried to hold my breath. So, I told him no. He wasn't too disappointed. He just kept asking me to time him until he got too lightheaded.
Riding around with Charlie was the highlight of my weekend. I miss being around little kids. I really do like being around them. So, it was nice to get a break from all the weird college students for a while (yes, I do realize what I just said. I mean it tongue-in-cheek).
Sunday, Oct. 4th, I was sick. And very sick. So, I quarantined myself to my room and (only if completely necessary) the kitchen. I listened to John Mayer, Jack Johnson, and Jason Mraz and slept all day, practically. And I wrote in this journal.
Monday, Oct 5th, I went to my first two classes in five months (THANK GOODNESS): Popular Music and how it is a cultural medium and used by the media.
And
Propaganda, Persuasion, and Political Communication. There is an entire week devoted to Political comics. I am so happy I am in this class.
The rest of the day was spent writing in this journal until 1am and talking to friends.
Tuesday, Oct. 6th, I did not have class, so I did some shopping and explored Brighton a little more. I like the off-the-main-drag Brighton much better than the touristy City Centre. It's much calmer there and friendlier too, in some ways.
Which brings me up to date for today: Wednesday the 7th of the month of October in the year two-thousand and nine. Just like my diploma would say... if I were graduating today. Which I am not.
Today I had Science, Technology, and the Media class, which I am extremely excited about. I was so excited I could barely sit still in class (or was it the caffeine?... I think it was more the subject matter). Basically, the class explores why and how science is used in the media, how it is represented, and why culture plays into what gets researched, what gets discovered, and what gets reported (three entirely separate processes, by the way). It is something I am extremely interested in, and I would love to have a job one day translating scientific text into laymen terms. It's something that would be helpful for both the medical/science world and the non-scientific world. I could help a lot of people understand science better, which would leave to more interest in science as a career. I could be the awesome, almighty middle-(wo)man! Seriously, I could use my love for science and my love for writing to help other people cope with technology. I think that would be awesome.
All of the classes I am taking are graded (the entire year, mind you) on either one or two things. Mostly an essay 60-100%, depending on the class, with a presentation 10-40% of the class. SO, in light of that fact, it's a very good thing I like to read and write essays, because that is practically all I will be doing. Hooray! Seriously, it's not a bad system. However, if it were introduced in the States all of a sudden, into the lives of students who have studied under the test-taking way, for lack of a better term, I am pretty sure most of them would fail. I could be wrong, but the reason why I think this is because in American educational institutions, students are frequently "checked up on" through tests and short assignments (designed to check if the student is absorbing the material properly), giving the student leeway to get a "feeling" for the class, and the professor and how they grade. They would get no chance of this in this England way of teaching. However, since it is a one shot, or you fail sort of system, that might scare American students enough to put in all the time necessary.
I just hope I don't fail miserably. I doubt I will, but you can never be too vigilante about protecting yourself from the, "Aw, I wouldn't do that" syndrome. Never underestimate your own stupidity, that's what I say. Or, never overestimate your own intelligence.
Well, anyway, today, I also played frisbee out in the "inclement" weather. Today, it was inclement at it's best. We're talking flash-flood amounts of water almost all day. We were lucky it cleared up for the hour we played out at "The Level" (a park near City Centre). It was so much fun! I love Ultimate Frisbee and I love the club. So many nice people. Apryl, Daye, and I were the only girls today, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference. We all had fun. We had a few "newbs", a term for "newbies", in case you didn't know. Sometimes used as a derogatory term in the States, but here it is used quite openly and without any hint of malicious intent. Anyway, it was fun, needless to say. I am pretty sure it will always be fun. I don't think anyone would let it get too serious. We had to stand in the bus for the first time ever (I have never seen it so crowded), but that was okay, because we rode to the end so most people left before we got out of town.
We got back to the flat, and I wrote in this, until Apryl sent me a text asking where I was... I had forgotten entirely about our mandatory residential meeting at 6:15. So, I ran changed clothes ultra-quick and ran through the heavy "dew" to the Checkland Building. I felt terrible I was late, but at least I didn't miss it entirely.
Apryl and I walked back to the flat and found a lonely hard hat sitting on a stair... we thought about it. But, we didn't. Steal it, that is. (once again, tongue-in-cheek).
And since then, I have been sitting here, eating my sour candy (I am trying to savor it to make it last), and writing in this journal.
Sometimes, it seems as if this place brings out the immature trickster in me. The one that used to play practical jokes quite regularly. I keep getting devilish ideas, and how to carry them through... not like I didn't get them before, but it seems as if England has presented me with a fresh, brand new batch of opportunities. Heh heh heh (evil laugh).
So, I'm just now getting warmed up and have no other events on which to expound... what can I possibly say now?
I am hungry.
Time for food.
Ciao!
Hannah
I woke up bright and early around 7:30 and started moving around. Apryl awoke shortly thereafter and we got ready for the day, packing and cleaning out the locker, getting ready to check out. We checked out and left out backpacks at the Hostel while we went out. We stopped by Starbuck's on the way out and I had and "extremely fruity scone" and a vanilla latte, which was probably the best coffee I've had a Starbuck's ever. We talked to a nice guy from Canada who was visiting Edinburgh with his son. We had a talk about children's literacy, or lack thereof, and he blamed it on the parents. While this is true, if parents do not encourage their children to read or do not read to them, this finger pointing still does not solve the problem. Kids need tutors. Man, I should really be a volunteer teacher or something. I don't think I would want to be an actual teacher, just like what my friend Mike does. A student helper.
Anyway, we went to the Edinburgh Castle and toured all the sights. The oldest building is St. Mary's chapel, which was built in the 1100's, I think. There was a bunch of theoretical history projected into the tour, just because they are not sure what exactly happened as written records are rare (or do not exist).
They redesigned the castle in the 19th century, and there were some plans for French Castle style, but thank goodness that didn't pull through. It did not fit into the Scottish style one bit. It was very ornate and floofy looking. Not something you would find designed, or thought up by, a Scot.
Anyway, the design was mostly applied to the main gates, although some of the buildings were fixed up a bit.
The Crown jewels of Scotland are stored there, along with the Stone of Destiny (Scotland's Throne, essentially). They were kept in hiding in a chest for 300 years. 300 YEARS!!! Until Sir Walter Scott asked the British government if he could open the chest. Many people were fearful that they were stolen long ago, but it turns out they were exactly as had been left, wrapped in cloth in the bottom of the trunk. In the exhibit, there was enormous buildup about the Scottish kings and Queens of the past, but not a whole lot of it had to do with the actual crown jewels (maybe during so-and-so's reign, a gem was added here, or the style changed a little there), but it is all rather dry and uninteresting, and there's too much of it for me to remember, so I hope you're not disappointed if I skip over to, what I think is, a more interesting part of the tour.
Anyway, after Sir Walter Scott got them uncovered (no wonder he is Scotland's hero), they went to England. They didn't not return to Scotland until the the 1990s, along with the stone of destiny, sanctioned by Queen Elizabeth II. I had not realized it was so recently. All of the Scots were very excited about the return of their Throne and jewels, which brings to light and interesting fact.
The political party in power in Scotland at the moment is the Scottish National Party (SNP). This party is very interested in reviving Scottish traditions (not the witch burnings) and bringing awareness to national pride. Scottish national pride (as if they needed any more of it). There were posters everywhere in Edinburgh saying, "Homecoming Scotland" and "Homecoming 2010" and things like that, with the Scottish flag waving all over the place. What this has to do with the stone and crown jewels is this: in a couple of years, if the SNP can pull it off, they are drawing it up now, there will be legislature petitioning to England and the U.K. to allow Scotland to (A. Have more rights and power as part of the U.K. (B. Remain in the U.K. as at present (C. Separate from the U.K. entirely and have a separate Scottish country. People are buzzing because the Stone of Destiny is resting in Edinburgh Castle now (the ruling place of Scotland), and it is said, as I said in an earlier entry that, "Wherever the stone lies, there Scotland shall be ruled"... Or something to that effect. Since the stone is now in Scotland, it would seem to follow that the Scots should get their own government again.
While I think this would be a great opportunity for Scotland, I think if they get a good amount of votes in favor for a separate country (like the SNP hopes), they are going to need to borrow a lot of money (for government setup, military defenses, etc.), and the world economic state, as it is now, might not be the best place to apply to.
I think, if they do get enough 'yes' votes, it will take many years before the separation actually occurs. At least, I would hope so. I don't think a violent break would benefit anyone. BUT! I am not a U.K. citizen, so I can't honestly say I am invested, however, it is an event worth following.
In Edinburgh castle, we also visited the prisons. Surprisingly, there were many Americans held there during the Revolutionary War. I have some photos of the American markings they found, such as a picture of a man hanging on the gallows with the words "Lord Nord" above it. Lord Nord, was apparently the much hated man who raised the taxes in "the colonies" and, they peg the blame on him, single handedly caused the Boston Tea Party and the fight for independence. When the war was over, all of the prisoners were freed, except for the Americans, because they hated "the rebels".
I was surprised to find so much American history in Scotland. They represented them somewhat humorously, I suppose...
It's so strange to hear what people think America is like. A lot of people have told me they are afraid of the gangsters. Which, I think is hilarious. Or they make remarks, like about the one o-clock gun going off, "If you're American, you'll probably think it's a drive by shooting and take to the ground."... Speaking of the one o'clock gun, we were up in the Castle when it went off... that was fun. I did jump a little, but I didn't think it was a drive by shooting, or whatever.
But really. I can not decipher (as yet) if they poke fun at Americans because they don't like them, or if it's just fun to do. The British kind of poke fun at everyone. And a lot of British people have this feeling that I, as an American, am very competitive with Canada and Britain... Perhaps I am a little bit prideful when I say this but, what do we really have in competition with them? We are all self-sustaining countries... well, mostly. We all have resources, but none of us are lacking in anything that we really NEED. We all have farms for food, and wood (or bricks) for buildings. I met a person who was half Canadian, and he made a face like, "it's bad"... and I asked him, "What's wrong with being Canadian" and he said, "Well because there's a lot of rivalry."
"Between who? The U.S. and Canada"
"Yeah."
I just laughed. For some reason, I never thought of the U.S. having a rivalry with Canada. I just the country ignored them (we pretty much do)... except during the Winter Olympics... maybe that's what he's talking about.
But if you think about it, isn't every country a rival to another? Even if it's just a friendly rivalry, like New Zealand and Australia. Heck, Scotland has an INTENSE rivalry with England, and they haven't been separated, as countries, in over 500 years!
Well, anyway, the prison was interesting. The memorial to "the Great War" (WWI) built in 1929 (I think?) was very beautiful, and definitely designed in the 1920's. There was the heavy, art deco, geometric approach to nearly all the decorations, but it was beautiful. It had all the names of the fallen written in books. And then a special memorial for those unaccounted for. War memorials always make me want to cry. Especially when I see little children running around in them. Maybe this is a little overly sentimental of me, but I can't help it. Just knowing that those kids may not have been here today if a series of impossibly unpredictable events led to their ancestor's survival. Life really is a blessing.
After we saw the Edinburgh Castle, we walked back to the Hostel, but not before stopping in the National Scottish Museum. It was pretty small, but absolutely beautiful, and free. It consists of two buildings but we only went in the permanent display one. The other is used for special exhibits and costs money. Not like I'm opposed to spending money going into a museum, but we didn't have the time. There were many excellent paintings, and the room layouts were wonderful. Classic, but in a different way from Buckingham Palace. Classic Scottish, I suppose, which I was "in tune" with much better. There were also some ancient Greek artifacts which I thoroughly enjoyed. There were Degas, Van Gogh, Monet, Gauguin, and other famous impressionist painter, which I can't remember right now. It was heaven! Many lovely landscapes, as well as portraits. So many nice paintings!
We walked back to the Hostel and picked up our backpacks, and then went in search for postcards. We walked down along the Parliament building again, and saw some TV reporters talking to, I assume, a government member. I got the really mean idea to go up to them and start asking for directions or something, but I decided not to. My evil side is squelched, once again... thank goodness. It's a good thing I've got a strong will to resist such evil urges! Just kidding. Moving on.
Nothing much happened, we just tooled around, found some postcards, and then got on the bus back to the airport. We stayed in the Old Town Edinburgh for our entire stay. Except for when we walked by Princes Street. But we did not go beyond Princes Street in the New Town. I had forgotten completely about it. The Old Town is so lovely and full of sights.
Security was quick and painless and therefore, rather not worth talking about.
In the airport I found some sour candy that was actually sour. And I bought a couple of books, "The Fabulous Mr. Fox" by Roald Dahl and "Princess Diaries: Ten for Ten" by Meg Cabot, the last in the series. Needless to say, I became very engrossed with the latter book and read it continually in the airport, on the plane, on the train, on the bus, and in my bed until I finished it at 2am. I knew it would happen. But I willed myself NOT to look at the clock so I wouldn't get tired so I could finish the book. I like the Princess Diaries books to a pitiful degree. It's just, how can you resist all of the teen romance? I completely skipped what most people deem as "high school", so I like reading about it. It makes me feel young again! That's a joke.
Anyway, so, since I had my nose stuck in the book, I didn't really notice anything else...
Friday, Oct. 2nd was uneventful. I slept late and ate a banana...
Saturday, Oct. 3rd, Mary and Zoe (our American Office advisers) took us on a trip to East Sussex. Our first stop was the chalk cliffs at Beachy Head, the famous suicide spot. People come from all over the country just to jump off the cliffs there. There was actually an old wrecked car at the bottom of one of the points. The little kid that was with us said so, but Mary said, "I don't believe you". I looked where the kid was looking, and darned if he wasn't right. It was kind of hidden under some grass, but there it was.
A little grotesque.
But, the government does nothing to stop it. The Samaritans (like the Good Sam club in the U.S.) have taken to patrolling the cliffs. They are located on the South Downs, which is a huge wildlife preservation area. It's about to become a National Park, I think.
After that we went to Afriston, a small "Chocolate Box Village" (as they say here in good old England), and looked around. There was an old St. Andrews (Scotland's Patron Saint) Church and looked at the insides. I split off from the group and walked around by myself for a bit in the graveyard. It was a lovely overcast day. Then I walked on a public path for a bit, then turned and went into the middle of town, down a little lane. It was only wide enough for one and a half people. But I met no on else. I went to the chocolate shop, where I bought some Turkish Delight (yum!), and individual chocolates in Irish Cream, Grand Marnier, Rhubarb, and something else I forgot (but it tasted good... they all tasted so good). I walked around the more residential district of Alfriston and then we climbed in the bus again and off we went to the a small pub for lunch. But not before seeing the "Seven Sisters" which are naturally coursing streams through the South Downs. They were very picturesque, and I hope I snapped a couple of good photos of them. They are just field streams, but vitally important to the wildlife in the area.
We got to the pub, I was so hungry, having not eaten that day, and ordered "Paul's Special", which is cheese and tomato sauce on bread.... it was the best pizza I've had here, so far. And Mushroom Stroganoff, which isn't in my spell checker, haha! I ate a lot. But it felt good.
Lemonade here, by the way, tastes suspiciously exactly like a flat Sprite. With more water.
I played drawing games with Charlie (the kid who saw the car), and we rode in the front seat together to Battle Abbey. Battle Abbey is where they fought the Battle of Hastings in 1066 (what other Battle of Hastings is there?), which was a turning point in Anglo-Saxon and Norman rule of England (the Normans won). Battle Abbey was erected by Norman King William to commemorate the brave Anglo-Saxon warriors, especially leader of the Saxons, King Harold. Battle Abbey was built where he fell. A rather noble gesture by King William, I think. Where they actually fought the battle is just an English field and stands out about as much as nothing. The signs weren't very informative, mostly a lot of, "And the Brave King Harold rallied his warriors!" sort of thing.
The Abbey is very beautiful inside. Very bare, and the years have eaten the polish from the stones, but the vaulted ceiling is still as awesome as it could have ever been. Even though it is not very big, and even though the ages have dimmed it's glory, somewhat, you can still get the feeling that the Abbey was once a work of perfection. They had some of the storage areas still about, and some garden walls were still standing, but the actual original church built was torn down by some idiots in the 18th century. If you know me, you know my extreme dislike for people who destroy ancient buildings or statues, or any art (do not get me started on the heretical burnings of the Alexander the Great's Libraries!!!).
Well, across from the Abbey is a large castle, which is still used today as a school. Lucky kids, I say.
Speaking of kids, in the Garden, there were these things lying on the ground. These things that come off the trees that are called, "Conkers". Apparently, children in the U.K. collect them, tie strings to them, and hit other kid's conkers with their own. If your conker cracks someone else's conker, you've got a good conker. And the point of all of it is to find the best conker out there. Sounds like fun to me! They look like avocado pits. I had never seen them before. Anyway...
The museum was interesting. There were a lot of old Monk's work and some tiles that were on the floor. The most priceless items are on display at the British Museum, so I will have to go there to check it all out. I went up some of the little staircases and found a tiny little room in one of the towers. It was well lit, so I know I wasn't up there illegally or anything, but it was cool because the door hinge pegs were still embedded in the stone.
I was feeling quite sick at this point, so I decided to leave and got a Coke across the street at the little Post Office and joined the others at the van.
It was a pleasant ride back with Charlie. He got a new book: A Thousand Years on the Same Street and kept asking me what I liked better? The building from the 1700s, or the building from the late 1800s? Would I like living in 1000ad, or in the 1400s? Etc. We held our breath going through the tunnel, and I counted how long he could hold his breath (43 seconds...not bad for a 10 year old). He asked me how long I could do it (about a minute) and to show him, but was seriously feeling ill, and I knew I would start coughing uncontrollably if I tried to hold my breath. So, I told him no. He wasn't too disappointed. He just kept asking me to time him until he got too lightheaded.
Riding around with Charlie was the highlight of my weekend. I miss being around little kids. I really do like being around them. So, it was nice to get a break from all the weird college students for a while (yes, I do realize what I just said. I mean it tongue-in-cheek).
Sunday, Oct. 4th, I was sick. And very sick. So, I quarantined myself to my room and (only if completely necessary) the kitchen. I listened to John Mayer, Jack Johnson, and Jason Mraz and slept all day, practically. And I wrote in this journal.
Monday, Oct 5th, I went to my first two classes in five months (THANK GOODNESS): Popular Music and how it is a cultural medium and used by the media.
And
Propaganda, Persuasion, and Political Communication. There is an entire week devoted to Political comics. I am so happy I am in this class.
The rest of the day was spent writing in this journal until 1am and talking to friends.
Tuesday, Oct. 6th, I did not have class, so I did some shopping and explored Brighton a little more. I like the off-the-main-drag Brighton much better than the touristy City Centre. It's much calmer there and friendlier too, in some ways.
Which brings me up to date for today: Wednesday the 7th of the month of October in the year two-thousand and nine. Just like my diploma would say... if I were graduating today. Which I am not.
Today I had Science, Technology, and the Media class, which I am extremely excited about. I was so excited I could barely sit still in class (or was it the caffeine?... I think it was more the subject matter). Basically, the class explores why and how science is used in the media, how it is represented, and why culture plays into what gets researched, what gets discovered, and what gets reported (three entirely separate processes, by the way). It is something I am extremely interested in, and I would love to have a job one day translating scientific text into laymen terms. It's something that would be helpful for both the medical/science world and the non-scientific world. I could help a lot of people understand science better, which would leave to more interest in science as a career. I could be the awesome, almighty middle-(wo)man! Seriously, I could use my love for science and my love for writing to help other people cope with technology. I think that would be awesome.
All of the classes I am taking are graded (the entire year, mind you) on either one or two things. Mostly an essay 60-100%, depending on the class, with a presentation 10-40% of the class. SO, in light of that fact, it's a very good thing I like to read and write essays, because that is practically all I will be doing. Hooray! Seriously, it's not a bad system. However, if it were introduced in the States all of a sudden, into the lives of students who have studied under the test-taking way, for lack of a better term, I am pretty sure most of them would fail. I could be wrong, but the reason why I think this is because in American educational institutions, students are frequently "checked up on" through tests and short assignments (designed to check if the student is absorbing the material properly), giving the student leeway to get a "feeling" for the class, and the professor and how they grade. They would get no chance of this in this England way of teaching. However, since it is a one shot, or you fail sort of system, that might scare American students enough to put in all the time necessary.
I just hope I don't fail miserably. I doubt I will, but you can never be too vigilante about protecting yourself from the, "Aw, I wouldn't do that" syndrome. Never underestimate your own stupidity, that's what I say. Or, never overestimate your own intelligence.
Well, anyway, today, I also played frisbee out in the "inclement" weather. Today, it was inclement at it's best. We're talking flash-flood amounts of water almost all day. We were lucky it cleared up for the hour we played out at "The Level" (a park near City Centre). It was so much fun! I love Ultimate Frisbee and I love the club. So many nice people. Apryl, Daye, and I were the only girls today, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference. We all had fun. We had a few "newbs", a term for "newbies", in case you didn't know. Sometimes used as a derogatory term in the States, but here it is used quite openly and without any hint of malicious intent. Anyway, it was fun, needless to say. I am pretty sure it will always be fun. I don't think anyone would let it get too serious. We had to stand in the bus for the first time ever (I have never seen it so crowded), but that was okay, because we rode to the end so most people left before we got out of town.
We got back to the flat, and I wrote in this, until Apryl sent me a text asking where I was... I had forgotten entirely about our mandatory residential meeting at 6:15. So, I ran changed clothes ultra-quick and ran through the heavy "dew" to the Checkland Building. I felt terrible I was late, but at least I didn't miss it entirely.
Apryl and I walked back to the flat and found a lonely hard hat sitting on a stair... we thought about it. But, we didn't. Steal it, that is. (once again, tongue-in-cheek).
And since then, I have been sitting here, eating my sour candy (I am trying to savor it to make it last), and writing in this journal.
Sometimes, it seems as if this place brings out the immature trickster in me. The one that used to play practical jokes quite regularly. I keep getting devilish ideas, and how to carry them through... not like I didn't get them before, but it seems as if England has presented me with a fresh, brand new batch of opportunities. Heh heh heh (evil laugh).
So, I'm just now getting warmed up and have no other events on which to expound... what can I possibly say now?
I am hungry.
Time for food.
Ciao!
Hannah
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