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
Saturday, February 27, 2010
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
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