Nope. We're not talking about Ke$ha here. I know, try not to be too disappointed.
I've been in my pajamas all day long -- in fact, I've barely left my room except to make a sandwich. And honestly? This is exactly what I've needed because for the past few weeks, I've been having rehearsal upon rehearsal, choreographing, breakdance, and street. It's been absolutely WONDERFUL, but equally as exhausting. So today I'm taking a breather from homework, people, and physical exertion -- that is, until 7pm today when I'll lead another street rehearsal.
Life has been a bit of a crash course lately. In exactly 7 days, I will be in London with Nottingham's dance portion of the FaceOff competition. I will be breakdancing and dancing street with my team, feeling prouder than ever when we all come together and pull off the routine I have painstakingly choreographed, with the edits and suggestions of my dancers.
A week after that, I will be in Newcastle with Break Soc, battling it up with the best Uni's around. I'll be feeling COMPLETELY out of my comfort zone, but I'll be with my break family, so all will be well no matter what happens. And after all, I'll never become the best I can be if I stay within my comfort zone (with the exception of today ;)).
Time is ticking away until these great competitions, and then I'll be turning in final papers before heading to Italy, Spain, and France for the month of April. When I come back, I'll have one exam and a university full of stressed students to return to for my few remaining weeks.
I don't do endings. And I know the worst possible way to live life is to worry about things ending so you don't enjoy them while they're happening, but how can I not at this point? This isn't like I'm walking off of a college campus (although, technically, college-life will officially be over for me in a few months as well). No, I'll be hopping on an $800 one way flight across 3,000 miles of ocean and land that will separate me from the country and people I have come to love. And I don't know if I can do it. I'm so tired of endings, of pulling my roots out and trying to dig them back in somewhere else every year. And what if the place I want to root down isn't anywhere near "home"?
My only comfort, and my greatest terror, is not knowing the future. I don't know how my life will pan out, I don't know why I was placed here for a measly nine months so I could fall in love with England and then go back to a place that used to feel like home but now seems painfully full of challenges and obstacles that I never thought I would have to face. But I know that all will work out the way that it should, and that all will be well, regardless of what the future brings.
And now I'm going to stop talking like the end is already here, because it's not. I have over 3 months left on this wonderful European continent, and even when May comes to a close, this is by no means the end. Instead, it is the continuation of a journey, an uncertain and ofttimes shaky journey, but a miraculous one at that.
There are no endings in life, only continuous motion, only steps forward. We just have to keep moving.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
"We are human beings!"
Every day my eyes are opened, my heart breaks a little more.
Yesterday was a difficult day for me, which I honestly feel kind of selfish about saying given the reason for my pain.
In my Feminist and Liberation Theology lecture, we watched the Warner Bros film "Romaro" -- a movie depicting the archbishop's role in the preliminary violence leading up to the decade long massacre of a civil war in El Salvador.
The movie was incredibly graphic, necessarily so, but what really shocked me was the complete disrespect that both sides had for each other. These people were separated by their differences -- differences in beliefs, income, ethnicity -- and they used these differences as reasons to kidnap, mutilate, and kill each other. Granted, the political and socioeconomic issues underlying this war are much more complicated than what I have just laid out, but the concept of violence as a means to getting what we want absolutely disgusts me.
And it's everywhere.
We are constantly in the middle of a violent, treacherous world, and sometimes it's more than I can take. It makes me so angry to think that because a Christian doesn't believe a Muslim should be inhabiting his/her homeland, they would shoot this person based on a difference of beliefs. Or that a woman will be abused and raped by her husband, her uncle, her father, her brother, and strangers simply because she is biologically female. Or that an African American man in America is 10x more likely to be incarcerated than a white man.
The list goes on and on... the injustices of this world go on and on. Every day, there are extreme injustices because we are so doggedly determined to focus on DIFFERENCES. One of the most powerful lines said by Romaro in the film bearing his name is screamed when Romaro is locked in a prison cell adjacent to the cell of a fellow priest who is being tortured: "WE ARE HUMAN BEINGS!"
WHY can't we ALL EMBRACE THIS???? REGARDLESS of beliefs, skin color, gender, sexual orientation, or class, WE ARE ALL HUMAN BEINGS, and simply BEING ALIVE gives each life INTRINSIC VALUE. What right have we to take someone's life from them on the basis of elevating our own status and deprecating theirs. It's disgusting. And the sooner we stop separating the "sheep from the goats", the sooner our world will find peace. NO ONE IS BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE. We all have the same beating hearts, the same blood flow, the same ability to inhale and exhale, to feel, to love. It's what makes us human, and it is that HUMANITY that is worth defending, not some ticket to another universe or creation of an elite class.
Until we can realize that it is our HUMANITY that binds us together, we will continue to be content with being kept apart, and we will continue to perpetuate whatever violent, unjust means it takes to keep us separate. There is no equality in separation. We NEED to stop thinking of humanity in terms of "us" and "them". There IS no "us" and "them". There is ONLY "us". All of us.
We are human beings. It's time we started acting like it.
May peace be restored to Egypt on this day of protests with as little bloodshed as possible. Our prayers are with you.
Yesterday was a difficult day for me, which I honestly feel kind of selfish about saying given the reason for my pain.
In my Feminist and Liberation Theology lecture, we watched the Warner Bros film "Romaro" -- a movie depicting the archbishop's role in the preliminary violence leading up to the decade long massacre of a civil war in El Salvador.
The movie was incredibly graphic, necessarily so, but what really shocked me was the complete disrespect that both sides had for each other. These people were separated by their differences -- differences in beliefs, income, ethnicity -- and they used these differences as reasons to kidnap, mutilate, and kill each other. Granted, the political and socioeconomic issues underlying this war are much more complicated than what I have just laid out, but the concept of violence as a means to getting what we want absolutely disgusts me.
And it's everywhere.
We are constantly in the middle of a violent, treacherous world, and sometimes it's more than I can take. It makes me so angry to think that because a Christian doesn't believe a Muslim should be inhabiting his/her homeland, they would shoot this person based on a difference of beliefs. Or that a woman will be abused and raped by her husband, her uncle, her father, her brother, and strangers simply because she is biologically female. Or that an African American man in America is 10x more likely to be incarcerated than a white man.
The list goes on and on... the injustices of this world go on and on. Every day, there are extreme injustices because we are so doggedly determined to focus on DIFFERENCES. One of the most powerful lines said by Romaro in the film bearing his name is screamed when Romaro is locked in a prison cell adjacent to the cell of a fellow priest who is being tortured: "WE ARE HUMAN BEINGS!"
WHY can't we ALL EMBRACE THIS???? REGARDLESS of beliefs, skin color, gender, sexual orientation, or class, WE ARE ALL HUMAN BEINGS, and simply BEING ALIVE gives each life INTRINSIC VALUE. What right have we to take someone's life from them on the basis of elevating our own status and deprecating theirs. It's disgusting. And the sooner we stop separating the "sheep from the goats", the sooner our world will find peace. NO ONE IS BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE. We all have the same beating hearts, the same blood flow, the same ability to inhale and exhale, to feel, to love. It's what makes us human, and it is that HUMANITY that is worth defending, not some ticket to another universe or creation of an elite class.
Until we can realize that it is our HUMANITY that binds us together, we will continue to be content with being kept apart, and we will continue to perpetuate whatever violent, unjust means it takes to keep us separate. There is no equality in separation. We NEED to stop thinking of humanity in terms of "us" and "them". There IS no "us" and "them". There is ONLY "us". All of us.
We are human beings. It's time we started acting like it.
May peace be restored to Egypt on this day of protests with as little bloodshed as possible. Our prayers are with you.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Great Escape
We all need little escapes in our lives -- sometimes we need multiple modes of escape to evade the realities of our daily lives that are too difficult, too depressing, or just too dang boring to deal with.
During this great and grand finals week, my escape has been Grey's Anatomy. Ridiculous, unhealthy amounts of Grey's Anatomy. And what's worse is that I'm watching reruns of a series I have already seen from start to finish. The internet has done terrible things to our brains, allowing us to reach addictive material with the click of our forefinger. Crap.
However, I have already lined up my post-finals relief in the form of Sue Townsend novels -- four of them, to be exact. It seems that I would rather be preoccupied with the bitter existence of fictional characters than to be completely involved in my own. Well, I guess we all go through phases like this. It's the gray weather talking. It's the cabin fever talking. It's the blatant loneliness and instability that stares you in the face every morning while you're brushing your teeth talking. But whoever's talking, this is youth. This is being young. This is what has been idealized throughout centuries, and it's one place that I love being, and hate being at the same time.
Am I fickle? Sure, sometimes. But I'm young, I'm 20 years old. I don't have to have anything figured out, so the world can just stop trying to make me feel guilty for changing my mind. I know where I want to be in 5 years -- a law school graduate, living out my glorious 20s in London, and changing the world. But I have no clue where I'll be in 4 months' time. Or 14 months. Peru? Spain? Geneva? Stuck at home without the financial abilities to live out my dreams? Well, maybe not my dreams. Let's call them my aspirations.
All right. Enough for now. My head's kind of spinning, and I'm getting frustrated. So, here's to being honest, to being real, and to being fearless of being afraid.
During this great and grand finals week, my escape has been Grey's Anatomy. Ridiculous, unhealthy amounts of Grey's Anatomy. And what's worse is that I'm watching reruns of a series I have already seen from start to finish. The internet has done terrible things to our brains, allowing us to reach addictive material with the click of our forefinger. Crap.
However, I have already lined up my post-finals relief in the form of Sue Townsend novels -- four of them, to be exact. It seems that I would rather be preoccupied with the bitter existence of fictional characters than to be completely involved in my own. Well, I guess we all go through phases like this. It's the gray weather talking. It's the cabin fever talking. It's the blatant loneliness and instability that stares you in the face every morning while you're brushing your teeth talking. But whoever's talking, this is youth. This is being young. This is what has been idealized throughout centuries, and it's one place that I love being, and hate being at the same time.
Am I fickle? Sure, sometimes. But I'm young, I'm 20 years old. I don't have to have anything figured out, so the world can just stop trying to make me feel guilty for changing my mind. I know where I want to be in 5 years -- a law school graduate, living out my glorious 20s in London, and changing the world. But I have no clue where I'll be in 4 months' time. Or 14 months. Peru? Spain? Geneva? Stuck at home without the financial abilities to live out my dreams? Well, maybe not my dreams. Let's call them my aspirations.
All right. Enough for now. My head's kind of spinning, and I'm getting frustrated. So, here's to being honest, to being real, and to being fearless of being afraid.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Nonchalance of Every Day Life
I did absolutely nothing of importance today.
Okay, that's not entirely true. I miscounted my credit requirements for graduation at least ten times, slept 14 hours, caught up on the news in Spanish, drank a gazillion cups of tea, threw up, and listened to new Missy Elliot with irresistibly excessive bass. And watched the rain fall. So clearly I am doing big and important things with my life.
Just kidding. I truly am, just not today. And sometimes I have to tell myself to slow down and be okay with having a day of rest. Goodness. I do everything fast -- eat, write, read, learn, run... sort of, on a good day... ;) and I can never seem to slow down. Goodness. I even drink my tea fast. This is just wrong. Tea, in its very nature, was intended to be savored. For real.
So this was my day of rest, which was quite awkwardly placed during finals week, but you know what? It was worth it. Maybe I did nothing more important today than catching up on my friends' lives at Seattle Grace, but hey, life is all about balance, and today was about finding mine.
I took today to sort out of my life -- to plan registration for summer classes, to be sure that I will graduate in a few months, to look up human rights internships, etc. And I am happy to report, my friends, that my life is starting to look incredibly promising, even if it won't actually feel like it is beginning for a few years, but hey, that's all right, too. After all, I'm graduating college at the ripe old age of 20, so I clearly have the rest of my life to go to law school and become an international lawyer batting for people's rights to the basic joys of humanity. YES. I can't wait. And clearly, I'm starting now, with writing articles and volunteering and all that jazz. It's never too early to get involved, people.
OH YEAH. And I wrote a song today! I forgot about that. I always feel accomplished when I write a song or choreograph a dance. Maybe that should tell me something about my soul's idea of success ;) Love it. Still artsy, even when I'm preparing to go kick some serious global... you know ;)
Go get some, people. Love yourselves, love others. Go make a difference, because you can, and you do, and you will, if you are willing to try.
LOVE.
Okay, that's not entirely true. I miscounted my credit requirements for graduation at least ten times, slept 14 hours, caught up on the news in Spanish, drank a gazillion cups of tea, threw up, and listened to new Missy Elliot with irresistibly excessive bass. And watched the rain fall. So clearly I am doing big and important things with my life.
Just kidding. I truly am, just not today. And sometimes I have to tell myself to slow down and be okay with having a day of rest. Goodness. I do everything fast -- eat, write, read, learn, run... sort of, on a good day... ;) and I can never seem to slow down. Goodness. I even drink my tea fast. This is just wrong. Tea, in its very nature, was intended to be savored. For real.
So this was my day of rest, which was quite awkwardly placed during finals week, but you know what? It was worth it. Maybe I did nothing more important today than catching up on my friends' lives at Seattle Grace, but hey, life is all about balance, and today was about finding mine.
I took today to sort out of my life -- to plan registration for summer classes, to be sure that I will graduate in a few months, to look up human rights internships, etc. And I am happy to report, my friends, that my life is starting to look incredibly promising, even if it won't actually feel like it is beginning for a few years, but hey, that's all right, too. After all, I'm graduating college at the ripe old age of 20, so I clearly have the rest of my life to go to law school and become an international lawyer batting for people's rights to the basic joys of humanity. YES. I can't wait. And clearly, I'm starting now, with writing articles and volunteering and all that jazz. It's never too early to get involved, people.
OH YEAH. And I wrote a song today! I forgot about that. I always feel accomplished when I write a song or choreograph a dance. Maybe that should tell me something about my soul's idea of success ;) Love it. Still artsy, even when I'm preparing to go kick some serious global... you know ;)
Go get some, people. Love yourselves, love others. Go make a difference, because you can, and you do, and you will, if you are willing to try.
LOVE.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The Summary
Well, beautiful people, there is no logical way for me to completely update you on the past month of travels. I wish I could type up my journal entries and allow you to relive my experiences with me, but that would take an incredible amount of effort and would be slightly unethical, don't you think? So my plan is to give you a summary, because for the first time all month I've had the time and energy to pen one for you.
London: How completely wonderful is London? I LOVE IT. London is most certainly the town for me. Hoping to live there in a year or so, at least that's the plan at present. Stayed in London for 5 days, seeing all the major sites (Tate Modern, Tower Bridge, Tower of London, Big Ben, House of Parliament, Westminster, the London Eye)... in short, everything I've always dreamed of seeing and more. It was like a fairytale, and I'm sorry to use that reference, but I honestly don't know how else to describe it. Scenes from movies suddenly came to life for me -- the most memorable being Tower Bridge and Big Ben. First off, I totally thought London Bridge was Tower Bridge. It's not. It's a totally different bridge... whoops. When I realized this, I took the obligatory picture on London Bridge before walking briskly down the riverside to Tower Bridge. As I walked across it, pictures from the Lindsay Lohan version of the Parent Trap ran through my mind, complete with "Here Comes the Sun" playing in the background. IT WAS UNREAL. And Big Ben? Yeah. I mosey up the stairs from the Westminster Tube stop, look up to my right, and BAM. There was Big Ben in all it's glory. That moment will stay with me forever... We completed our absolutely perfect stay in London by seeing The Lion King in London's West End. When the curtains opened and The Circle of Life began, I started crying it was so beautiful. And once again, unreal. I never would have imagined that I would be sitting in a theatre at West End watching the Lion King live. So incredible.
Greece: Let's take this in parts, shall we?
Athens: Oh Athens. It was nothing like I expected it to be. We had some serious travel/accommodations mishaps, costing us over 140 euros to find ourselves in a safe location. My suitcase wheels will never be the same after dragging my 15 kilo duffle around the pothole laden, grimy streets of rainy Athens. Athens redeeming grace is found in the amazingly helpful staff at the Pan Hotel, the little bakery up the street from where we were staying, and of course, the Pantheon. The only way to really show you how much I appreciated the historical beauty of these ancient buildings is to raid my pictures when I have a chance to upload them in a week or so, so I highly recommend this :)
Olympia: Another travel adventure. Oh the bus system. Kind of terrifying, really, especially the bus workers who breathe fire. When we finally arrived, we realized that there was absolutely nothing open, and that there wouldn't be as it wasn't tourist season, and that there wouldn't be a bus out of there for two days because of its remote location. Again, Olympia's saving grace was in its amazing monuments and the gargantuan ruins of Zeus's Temple, which is considered one of the 7 wonders of the ancient world. It is breathtaking to imagine that I actually have seen these ancient temples. Truly amazing. Although the town was shut down, it was lovely to be in the mountains, eating oranges straight off the trees. However, I don't think I'll eat an orange for a very long time: to save money, they became a huge part of our diet.
Nafplion: Nafplion, oh Nafplion. We almost died getting there by haphazard bus/taxi driving on winding mountain roads (did you know that it's perfectly safe to drive a coach bus on a mountain while laughing hysterically on the phone and writing things down? I didn't know this either. Wow, we learn new things every day, don't we?) And I kind of thought the taxi driver, who didn't speak English, might kill us with his own bare hands when he started punching the air while HE was on the phone. When we finally got to our hotel, I was more relieved than I have ever been to find that I was alive. Nafplion, cradled on the coast of the Aegean Sea, was more beautiful than I could have believed. With three fortresses nestled in the mountains and a turquoise blue sea surrounding the peninsula dotted with palm trees and seaside restaurants, Nafplion was everything I had hoped to heaven it would be. We spend several amazing days reveling in the beauty of this secluded haven, cut off from the busy, dirty, and often dangerous other parts of Greece we had previously encountered. Christmas we spent in Athens, waiting for our plane, but in the end, Greece was worth it.
Geneva, Switzerland: Geneva was SO CLEAN. And gorgeous as well, not as cold as I had thought it would be. It was so much fun to be surrounded with French, although I can barely speak it, and to be in a hostel that was conveniently located, clean, and safe. Again, check out my pictures when you get a chance, because descriptions just won't cut it. A wonderful way to unwind and breathe some fresh air (quite literally).
Germany, Part I = Kassel: Another transportation adventure, with canceled flights, rebookings, and running around the airport by myself with my head nearly cut off. I have never felt like more of an adult in my life, and besides the welling up a little bit at the information desk, I think I handled the situation competently. Finally at a friend's home, I was welcomed in true German fashion, with meat and beer almost every night, and an incredible amount of sweets. I'm just lucky they don't weigh passengers as well as luggage, because I'd undoubtedly be paying some sort of fee... Lots of time to relax and enjoy the community of family and friends, and to explore the German countryside, which was invariably familiar to that of Minnesota. This is where the homesickness sets in.
Germany, Part II = Hamburg: More learning how to travel on my own, and feeling glad that I have mastered another city's public transportation system :) I'm such a city person. I love it. Company has been wonderful here, also great to have my own room once again. Here I feel like I can adequately prepare for exams and the rest of my life (which is approaching much too rapidly to feel any sense of security at all).
Onto London in a few days. Beloved London. I cannot wait to be back. Much thanks and everlasting gratitude to those that have graciously welcomed me into their homes and families this past month. My journeys would not have been the same without you all.
If I have learned anything, it is that I am fully capable of surviving on my own. I can navigate sprawling cities, 5 languages, and bipass transportation disasters with more ease than I ever would have believed had you asked me a year ago. I am coming into my own, and I am finding myself to be competent, confident, and able. However, I am getting lonely. Lonelier than I thought I would. I miss my family at Nott, as much as I miss my family at home. I'm ready to be back with the familiarity of friendly faces and little quircks and my roommate's Indian singing in the shower. I miss these things. And what I have realized most of all is that no matter where I go, or what amazing things I am blessed to see, it is never as meaningful if I see and experience them alone.
I have learned that I can completely survive on my own, and that I pray I never have to. After all, what imprints us the most will not be the things that we see, but the people we meet and let into our lives. It is people that make life worth living, not buildings and monuments. And I never intend to live without community, without love, without my people. I miss my people. And as much as I have adored traveling, I am ready to be back in that flat in Nottingham, with all my people.
London: How completely wonderful is London? I LOVE IT. London is most certainly the town for me. Hoping to live there in a year or so, at least that's the plan at present. Stayed in London for 5 days, seeing all the major sites (Tate Modern, Tower Bridge, Tower of London, Big Ben, House of Parliament, Westminster, the London Eye)... in short, everything I've always dreamed of seeing and more. It was like a fairytale, and I'm sorry to use that reference, but I honestly don't know how else to describe it. Scenes from movies suddenly came to life for me -- the most memorable being Tower Bridge and Big Ben. First off, I totally thought London Bridge was Tower Bridge. It's not. It's a totally different bridge... whoops. When I realized this, I took the obligatory picture on London Bridge before walking briskly down the riverside to Tower Bridge. As I walked across it, pictures from the Lindsay Lohan version of the Parent Trap ran through my mind, complete with "Here Comes the Sun" playing in the background. IT WAS UNREAL. And Big Ben? Yeah. I mosey up the stairs from the Westminster Tube stop, look up to my right, and BAM. There was Big Ben in all it's glory. That moment will stay with me forever... We completed our absolutely perfect stay in London by seeing The Lion King in London's West End. When the curtains opened and The Circle of Life began, I started crying it was so beautiful. And once again, unreal. I never would have imagined that I would be sitting in a theatre at West End watching the Lion King live. So incredible.
Greece: Let's take this in parts, shall we?
Athens: Oh Athens. It was nothing like I expected it to be. We had some serious travel/accommodations mishaps, costing us over 140 euros to find ourselves in a safe location. My suitcase wheels will never be the same after dragging my 15 kilo duffle around the pothole laden, grimy streets of rainy Athens. Athens redeeming grace is found in the amazingly helpful staff at the Pan Hotel, the little bakery up the street from where we were staying, and of course, the Pantheon. The only way to really show you how much I appreciated the historical beauty of these ancient buildings is to raid my pictures when I have a chance to upload them in a week or so, so I highly recommend this :)
Olympia: Another travel adventure. Oh the bus system. Kind of terrifying, really, especially the bus workers who breathe fire. When we finally arrived, we realized that there was absolutely nothing open, and that there wouldn't be as it wasn't tourist season, and that there wouldn't be a bus out of there for two days because of its remote location. Again, Olympia's saving grace was in its amazing monuments and the gargantuan ruins of Zeus's Temple, which is considered one of the 7 wonders of the ancient world. It is breathtaking to imagine that I actually have seen these ancient temples. Truly amazing. Although the town was shut down, it was lovely to be in the mountains, eating oranges straight off the trees. However, I don't think I'll eat an orange for a very long time: to save money, they became a huge part of our diet.
Nafplion: Nafplion, oh Nafplion. We almost died getting there by haphazard bus/taxi driving on winding mountain roads (did you know that it's perfectly safe to drive a coach bus on a mountain while laughing hysterically on the phone and writing things down? I didn't know this either. Wow, we learn new things every day, don't we?) And I kind of thought the taxi driver, who didn't speak English, might kill us with his own bare hands when he started punching the air while HE was on the phone. When we finally got to our hotel, I was more relieved than I have ever been to find that I was alive. Nafplion, cradled on the coast of the Aegean Sea, was more beautiful than I could have believed. With three fortresses nestled in the mountains and a turquoise blue sea surrounding the peninsula dotted with palm trees and seaside restaurants, Nafplion was everything I had hoped to heaven it would be. We spend several amazing days reveling in the beauty of this secluded haven, cut off from the busy, dirty, and often dangerous other parts of Greece we had previously encountered. Christmas we spent in Athens, waiting for our plane, but in the end, Greece was worth it.
Geneva, Switzerland: Geneva was SO CLEAN. And gorgeous as well, not as cold as I had thought it would be. It was so much fun to be surrounded with French, although I can barely speak it, and to be in a hostel that was conveniently located, clean, and safe. Again, check out my pictures when you get a chance, because descriptions just won't cut it. A wonderful way to unwind and breathe some fresh air (quite literally).
Germany, Part I = Kassel: Another transportation adventure, with canceled flights, rebookings, and running around the airport by myself with my head nearly cut off. I have never felt like more of an adult in my life, and besides the welling up a little bit at the information desk, I think I handled the situation competently. Finally at a friend's home, I was welcomed in true German fashion, with meat and beer almost every night, and an incredible amount of sweets. I'm just lucky they don't weigh passengers as well as luggage, because I'd undoubtedly be paying some sort of fee... Lots of time to relax and enjoy the community of family and friends, and to explore the German countryside, which was invariably familiar to that of Minnesota. This is where the homesickness sets in.
Germany, Part II = Hamburg: More learning how to travel on my own, and feeling glad that I have mastered another city's public transportation system :) I'm such a city person. I love it. Company has been wonderful here, also great to have my own room once again. Here I feel like I can adequately prepare for exams and the rest of my life (which is approaching much too rapidly to feel any sense of security at all).
Onto London in a few days. Beloved London. I cannot wait to be back. Much thanks and everlasting gratitude to those that have graciously welcomed me into their homes and families this past month. My journeys would not have been the same without you all.
If I have learned anything, it is that I am fully capable of surviving on my own. I can navigate sprawling cities, 5 languages, and bipass transportation disasters with more ease than I ever would have believed had you asked me a year ago. I am coming into my own, and I am finding myself to be competent, confident, and able. However, I am getting lonely. Lonelier than I thought I would. I miss my family at Nott, as much as I miss my family at home. I'm ready to be back with the familiarity of friendly faces and little quircks and my roommate's Indian singing in the shower. I miss these things. And what I have realized most of all is that no matter where I go, or what amazing things I am blessed to see, it is never as meaningful if I see and experience them alone.
I have learned that I can completely survive on my own, and that I pray I never have to. After all, what imprints us the most will not be the things that we see, but the people we meet and let into our lives. It is people that make life worth living, not buildings and monuments. And I never intend to live without community, without love, without my people. I miss my people. And as much as I have adored traveling, I am ready to be back in that flat in Nottingham, with all my people.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Let the Travels Begin!
Well, I head out for a month-long holiday adventure through Europe at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning.
And it hasn't dawned on me yet. At all. Maybe that means I'm getting extremely good at living in the moment?
I honestly am just in awe that I have this opportunity... like... seriously? I'll be in London with all the lights up in the Christmas spirit, in Greece for Christmas itself, and then off to Switzerland and Germany to finish off the holiday. WHAT KIND OF OPPORTUNITIES ARE THESE??? Awesome ones. That's the only acceptable answer. Bam.
I do not understand how I came to draw the lucky straw. I am so incredibly INCREDIBLY lucky, and I plan on living out every moment to its fullest -- minus the whole packing thing. That still needs to happen...
Well, I was missing home like crazy today... as many of you know because I went all video-happy and sent many of you oh-so-touching (aka pointless) video messages via facebook this morning. Sigh. It's hard for me to feel like I should be in two places at once. But hey, I can't. And I'm here, and honestly, there's no place I would rather be. I have found myself here, I have come into my own, I have my future all lined up and ready to go. I can hardly believe my good fortune. I have been given the opportunity to throw myself into a new culture for 9 months, and to spend 3 of those months abroad in other cultures. AHHHHHHHHHHH. And for some reason I'm telling my heart to stop racing right now. It's SO fine for me to be excited at this point, I mean, I'm leaving TOMORROW for the ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME. Gosh, I can be so mediocre sometimes. Silly.
So anyway, I hope to update along the way, but basically, I love life. So much. And I will never forget this year -- it will be a part of me forever.
However, I love you all, and I can't wait to be back with you, no matter how much things may have seemed to change -- love remains the same.
As is English custom, I leave you with kisses:
xx
And it hasn't dawned on me yet. At all. Maybe that means I'm getting extremely good at living in the moment?
I honestly am just in awe that I have this opportunity... like... seriously? I'll be in London with all the lights up in the Christmas spirit, in Greece for Christmas itself, and then off to Switzerland and Germany to finish off the holiday. WHAT KIND OF OPPORTUNITIES ARE THESE??? Awesome ones. That's the only acceptable answer. Bam.
I do not understand how I came to draw the lucky straw. I am so incredibly INCREDIBLY lucky, and I plan on living out every moment to its fullest -- minus the whole packing thing. That still needs to happen...
Well, I was missing home like crazy today... as many of you know because I went all video-happy and sent many of you oh-so-touching (aka pointless) video messages via facebook this morning. Sigh. It's hard for me to feel like I should be in two places at once. But hey, I can't. And I'm here, and honestly, there's no place I would rather be. I have found myself here, I have come into my own, I have my future all lined up and ready to go. I can hardly believe my good fortune. I have been given the opportunity to throw myself into a new culture for 9 months, and to spend 3 of those months abroad in other cultures. AHHHHHHHHHHH. And for some reason I'm telling my heart to stop racing right now. It's SO fine for me to be excited at this point, I mean, I'm leaving TOMORROW for the ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME. Gosh, I can be so mediocre sometimes. Silly.
So anyway, I hope to update along the way, but basically, I love life. So much. And I will never forget this year -- it will be a part of me forever.
However, I love you all, and I can't wait to be back with you, no matter how much things may have seemed to change -- love remains the same.
As is English custom, I leave you with kisses:
xx
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Snow :)
I have never loved snow so much in my life. One of my fondest memories in the snow happened about five years ago. My sister and I had donned our snowpants and set out on an adventure across the "wild" terrain behind our house. Two hours later, we were lost, I was freezing (freeze-baby that I am) and had surrendered myself to certain death by laying in the nearest 3 foot tall snowbank (which happened to be right next to me as I was surrounded by an ocean of 3 foot tall snowbanks). I could see a neighborhood, but not our neighborhood, and in my despair, I dramatically declared to my sister that I was going to die there, at which point she yanked me up and began running through the snow, dragging my freezing, useless body after her. Needless to say, we made it home.
But today, I was on my own. I was in a foreign country with nothing but time and homework to hold me back. I followed my heart to the city centre, where my heart is often residing, and roamed around the beautiful decorated streets, feeling the large clumps of snow as they danced lazily onto my face and hair. I mailed three postcards I had had written for at least a month (be expecting, ladies!) and then headed off in search of an upstairs cafe where I could write and work on homework away from the turmoil of the busy street shoppers.
However, due to the ridiculous Nottingham property taxes, there are only two cafes with upstairs seating that I could find, and as I was determined not to enter an American Starbucks while in England, I headed to the very familiar Waterstone's bookstore where I ended up at a table perched right at the top of a noisy escalator. I did my best to pretend that the whir of the escalator was soothing, but ended up turning up John Mayer on my ipod instead.
I may have been on my own today, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I couldn't stop smiling all day long -- partly because I was listening to John Mayer for 2 hours straight, partly because the snow was so breathtakingly beautiful I could hardly contain myself, partly because Christmas has wrapped its arms around Market Square -- but mostly because I am free, independent, and alive. I have been blessed with such an incredible opportunity to live out every moment of every day in a foreign country until June. How absolutely wonderful is that? I have never felt so empowered, so wonderful in all my life. I feel so free. Free from organized institutions, free to be who I want to be, free to explore, free to know myself like I have never known myself before. Free to change. Free to be happy and content with change.
I hope that the beginning of your winters have been as wonderful as mine has. There is nothing like a fresh coat of snow to remind us that everything will be alright, everything can turn out the way we want it to, if we only allow ourselves to be flexible and never allow ourselves to stop hoping for the best.
I leave you with a tiny poem I wrote alongside that boisterous escalator in Waterstone's:
Darling, life is beautiful
All you need do is open your eyes
See the loveliness all around you
Why are you hiding from it?
There is nothing to fear
Only yourself
Let go, escape
Fall back into the arms of reality
Relax into the beat of your own heart
This is your life
Wake up and live it
Don't let anyone hold you down
Don't let anything hold you back
All you have is this minute in today
Will you hold onto it
Or let it fly?
Love to all.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
ALIVE.
Today was GREAT, and amazingly productive. I went to class bright and early, headed to the library after class to check out a book on short loan (6 hours...), and traveled downtown to Rosy's Tea Shop in the city centre, where I proceeded to read 230 textbook pages in under 3 hours and complete my weekend plans, all while drinking a Belgian dark hot chocolate and rockin' my roommate's stiletto boots. Bam ba bam.
I love my life.
But throughout the past week, the love factor hasn't exactly been present. I'm going through some serious transitions in my life, which are complicated, messy, and necessary, and so am under a considerable amount of emotional stress on a daily basis. Without close friends and family nearby, this has been a bit of a battle, depending on whether or not I decide to acknowledge my inner turmoil that day. However, I know that I am on the road to finding me -- rather, I am on the road to accepting the fact that there will never be a set "me", that I am a fluid human being who changes on a daily basis. Consistency may be comforting at times, but I find that, in this circumstance, my desire for consistency within myself is the cowardly way out. Instead, I'm now striving to find peace in my fluidity, and confidence in my ability to grow, change, and fluctuate with my environment.
Basically, I've been holding myself back. I've been so worried about the changes happening within myself that I have understandably doubted who I am. And that, my friends, is one of the most difficult processes to undergo, and one we can expect to undergo numerous times in our lives. So the past week has been a little rough -- I've done a lot of thinking, a lot of staying in one place (possibly trying to compensate for the constant running around of my thoughts), etc. But I realized that I can only take so much of that... life was starting to get gloomy.
So I've reached out to people I care about and want to get to know better. I'm done holding myself back from experiencing my life to the fullest. I headed to Dogma (a club by Lace Market that hosts dance-offs every Tuesday) last night with a few of the breakdancing guys, and it was AWESOME. Did I have the guts to show my skills? Nope. Not yet. :) But I'll get there. I went off on my own to experience something outside of my comfort zone, and it was glorious.
Today I established within myself that I am more than able to thrive in my skin. I haven't been letting myself enjoy being me. Instead of loving myself and laughing at myself or whatever the case may be, I had neutralized my emotions towards myself in order to... I don't even know. What was I doing? C'mon. I am ANYTHING but neutral. I am alive, and I love being me, and maybe some days I have pimples or an extra pound around the thighs or whatever. But hey, those are parts of me, too, and there's no reason for us to hate ourselves for our imperfections. We should embrace those "imperfections", if they should even be called that, as part of life, as part of ourselves, and move forward graciously. We accept other people for who they are, why can't we accept ourselves with the same amount of grace?
So there you have it, a blog post barely about England, and very much about me IN England. But that's okay. It needed to be said.
One last thought: I don't think I could ever be with anyone who routinely sneezed into their hands. I mean, c'mon, that's what elbows are for.
Love you all, enjoy the little moments!
Amy
I love my life.
But throughout the past week, the love factor hasn't exactly been present. I'm going through some serious transitions in my life, which are complicated, messy, and necessary, and so am under a considerable amount of emotional stress on a daily basis. Without close friends and family nearby, this has been a bit of a battle, depending on whether or not I decide to acknowledge my inner turmoil that day. However, I know that I am on the road to finding me -- rather, I am on the road to accepting the fact that there will never be a set "me", that I am a fluid human being who changes on a daily basis. Consistency may be comforting at times, but I find that, in this circumstance, my desire for consistency within myself is the cowardly way out. Instead, I'm now striving to find peace in my fluidity, and confidence in my ability to grow, change, and fluctuate with my environment.
Basically, I've been holding myself back. I've been so worried about the changes happening within myself that I have understandably doubted who I am. And that, my friends, is one of the most difficult processes to undergo, and one we can expect to undergo numerous times in our lives. So the past week has been a little rough -- I've done a lot of thinking, a lot of staying in one place (possibly trying to compensate for the constant running around of my thoughts), etc. But I realized that I can only take so much of that... life was starting to get gloomy.
So I've reached out to people I care about and want to get to know better. I'm done holding myself back from experiencing my life to the fullest. I headed to Dogma (a club by Lace Market that hosts dance-offs every Tuesday) last night with a few of the breakdancing guys, and it was AWESOME. Did I have the guts to show my skills? Nope. Not yet. :) But I'll get there. I went off on my own to experience something outside of my comfort zone, and it was glorious.
Today I established within myself that I am more than able to thrive in my skin. I haven't been letting myself enjoy being me. Instead of loving myself and laughing at myself or whatever the case may be, I had neutralized my emotions towards myself in order to... I don't even know. What was I doing? C'mon. I am ANYTHING but neutral. I am alive, and I love being me, and maybe some days I have pimples or an extra pound around the thighs or whatever. But hey, those are parts of me, too, and there's no reason for us to hate ourselves for our imperfections. We should embrace those "imperfections", if they should even be called that, as part of life, as part of ourselves, and move forward graciously. We accept other people for who they are, why can't we accept ourselves with the same amount of grace?
So there you have it, a blog post barely about England, and very much about me IN England. But that's okay. It needed to be said.
One last thought: I don't think I could ever be with anyone who routinely sneezed into their hands. I mean, c'mon, that's what elbows are for.
Love you all, enjoy the little moments!
Amy
Monday, November 1, 2010
Hallowe'en (apostrophe completely intended)
Yes. Halloween is spelled with an apostrophe between the two E's, as if it's supposed to be a remnant of the word "evening". Just one more piece of evidence that England puts way too much work into spelling every word ever crafted into existence. Abby, Aimee, and I had a lovely Halloween debate with some British gents about the spelling and pronunciation of "aluminum". Yeah. They like to add an I to the word, making it "aluminium". Ha. Spellcheck has deemed this spelling incorrect. I stand triumphant.
SO. Halloween isn't a big deal over here, which I know, is shocking. You'd think that the country that first conjured up the pagan traditional celebration of Hallow's Eve would want to make a bigger deal out of the holiday. But alas, it seems that America once again has proven to enjoy the bigger and better, and makes Halloween one gargantuan monument to partying. England has a fetish for costume parties on any day of the week throughout the year, with stag and hen parties being all the rage, so I guess Halloween just wasn't cool enough to turn many people's heads this year.
However, I still managed to celebrate Halloween twice this weekend, which is really the only way to do it. Abby, Aimee, and I (AKA the 3 As, AKA America) headed to a vampiric house party on Lenton Street where we met up with some of our friends from Musicality and a bunch of other attractive people that we were fortunate enough to meet. After chatting up the necessary American topics with some British gents (Canada v. America, Obama, Iraq, atrocious spelling habits), we headed to Forum (UNott's version of a massive, rave-style Roscoe's) for some serious dancing. We stayed there until 3, and then called it a night.
Our next adventure came Saturday evening in the form of a flat Murder Mystery Party! IT WAS EXCELLENT FUN. We all dressed up as characters from the 1920s, and created our own backstories and motives for killing Mr. Rosenblum. I WANT TO DO THIS EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE. Maybe. I was Roxy Malone, 1920s club singer with a string of lovers and a dark and destructive past. WHOA. INTENSE.
After the MMP, which ended up with all of us being killed by an anonymous murderer (Aaron Schmaltz) because none of the stories really lined up, we headed to Pit and Pendulum, a pub inspired by the work by Edgar Allen Poe, and thus completely perfect for Halloween. The pub was crowded, so we headed to the Hog's Head, where I couldn't help myself from dancing to the music videos playing on the TVs on the wall, which drew the attention of the bouncer outside who kept amiably making fun of me. When half of our group cleared out to go to bed, the rest of us meandered back to Pit and Pendulum to buy a drink for each of the Seven Deadly Sins. Although un-iced, THEY WERE DELICIOUS. Then home. And an attempt to watch Psycho, but we fell asleep.
Yesterday was glorious as well: a day set aside to the cultivation of my intellect -- reading from the Qur'an, Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes, and Dante's Divine Comedy. There's so much for me to learn, and I am SO GRATEFUL for the time I have this year to do just that! To explore the classics, to learn from some of the greatest philosophical minds and creative explorers of all time. Yesssssssssss. This is living. This is life. This is MY life. And I love it, so much.
I've learned to truly follow my heart, even in the little things. It's important to be able to listen to those little promptings -- if you feel the need to lay on the floor and listen to music, do it. If you feel the need to dance around while walking to the bus stop, do it. If you feel the need to start reading something challenging, do it. Likewise, if you feel the need to read something completely romantic, go right ahead and do it. Life is yours to hold onto, and we must listen to what our hearts and telling us we need, and to act upon those whispers.
Love you all!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Beauty is England's Middle Name
This weekend proved that to me abundantly.
Once again I have fallen prey to the flu -- probably the product of consistently damp weather, stress from trying to figure out scheduling crapola, and over body exertion from breakdancing.
(My roommate is freaking out because the cricket world cup is being held in her home country of India while we'll still be in England. I don't understand cricket. All I know is some people eat them coated in chocolate. End side note.)
Anyway. This sickness has left me completely vulnerable to the seduction of my bed, whose invitations I have graciously accepted frequently, knowing that if I was at home, my mom would advise me to do the same. But in light of a sleepy weekend, Abby and I made a trip to Wollaton Park, which has made its mark upon my heart.
Wollaton Park, located right across the road from the University Park Campus, and larger than said campus, brought some of the best relief to my spirit that I have had in a long time. We walked through a shoddy gate house, and stepped into a wonderland of turning leaves, rustling grasses, and content families strolling with their dogs on the open green fields that tenderly hug the small lake in its southern corner. We only had the chance to explore a tiny portion of this park, but in that time we discovered a castle, found a quaint cafe (open only from 12pm-3pm on weekdays) ideal for pre-class studying, and realized that Abby's coat had been peed on by a mangy little dog while we were taking pictures next to the glorious castle wall. That was touching... really... like, you couldn't have controlled your two lb dog from urinating all over the inside of my friend's jacket? C'mon people. Do we need to put the collar on you instead? Oye.
In any case, there's nothing like fresh air, rolling hills, and endless beauty to rejuvenate the soul and strengthen a sick body. Unless you couple that with gorgeous music. Music and nature -- the heart's healers.
I have been so blessed by the little things in life. The slight adjustments in the harmonic line of a second guitar in an acoustic cover that no one would catch unless they had listened to it religiously. I tend to do that -- listen to a song over and over. If my soul finds oneness with a piece of music, it feels right to continue on that vent until my soul switches direction -- it's like coming home for a while.
But enough musical philosophy. Clearly I'm doing a lot of thinking over here, but more than anything, I am learning how to live. I am learning to enjoy every moment, to listen for the harmonic line of the second guitar in a piece of beloved music, to reach out to people instead of walking by them distractedly. To PAY ATTENTION.
More later, friends.
Oh but wait -- my roommate just informed me that the Cricket World Cup 2011 mascot is an aqua elephant named Stumpy. I think that pretty much sums it up :)
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Boy Bands Are Back -- ALL RIGHT
Yes. Yes they are. JLS, runners up in X Factor (Britain's "American Idol") are incredibly popular here. And why wouldn't they be? They're gorgeous, talented, and British. Whoever decided boybands were "out" clearly did not realize the advantages of corralling the most attractive male singers and dancers in one place at one time. Sounds like a dream come true to me! Thank you, England, for having some common sense.
Except when it comes to leggings. Oh boy. Apparently leggings count as pants now, and yes, I have succumbed to wearing them as pants as well. In all reality, they shouldn't pass for pants, as they really are just thick tights, and I'm always incredibly self-conscious when I wear them in public. I check out my reflection in the store windows to make sure I don't look completely ridiculous, find out I do, then keep walking because everyone else looks as ridiculous as I do. England, someday you will look back on your poor fashion choices and laugh, but until then I will join you wholeheartedly in your legging conquest of the world seeing as leggings are possibly the most comfortable thing I could ever put on. Minimal clothing. Always a good choice.
Today I wore leggings as pants, but I also went to the Uni library for the first time with Sofia from Italy after our French class, and then headed to Brown Betty's in the city centre where we met a guy from Spain who spoke no English. So of course we talked to him in Spanish for over half an hour, which was SUBLIME. I love being able to communicate with people from other countries, albeit poorly. I've realized that while I may be able to translate Spanish like a fiend, without practice my speaking has become embarrassingly poor. Of course, as is always the case, after our conversation I was walking down the sidewalk thinking of all the Spanish phrases I should have been able to think of and use at the time. This probably resulted in me muttering to myself in Spanish in public and looking extra crazy in my legging/pants.
Shoot. In England, pants are called "trousers". "Pants" refer to undergarments. Well, I suppose leggings are closer to undergarments than trousers anyway...
All in all, life is good. Clearly. I'm chilling with people from Britain, Nigeria, Italy, France, and Spain. In one day. EXQUISITE. This is what life is about, people: boybands, minimal clothing, and spontaneous meetings (mainly the last point, but the first two as well ;)). Life is about people, it's about breaking out of our comfortable systems and communities and reaching out to people who we may never have met otherwise. If I hadn't started speaking Spanish to the guy next to me after recognizing his first language, I never would have had the experience of chatting with a native Spaniard in England. We've gotta take risks. We have to break out of those comfortable polite bubbles. Life isn't about solitude, it's about community. So get up out of your bubble and be communal, friends.
I love you all,
Ames
Except when it comes to leggings. Oh boy. Apparently leggings count as pants now, and yes, I have succumbed to wearing them as pants as well. In all reality, they shouldn't pass for pants, as they really are just thick tights, and I'm always incredibly self-conscious when I wear them in public. I check out my reflection in the store windows to make sure I don't look completely ridiculous, find out I do, then keep walking because everyone else looks as ridiculous as I do. England, someday you will look back on your poor fashion choices and laugh, but until then I will join you wholeheartedly in your legging conquest of the world seeing as leggings are possibly the most comfortable thing I could ever put on. Minimal clothing. Always a good choice.
Today I wore leggings as pants, but I also went to the Uni library for the first time with Sofia from Italy after our French class, and then headed to Brown Betty's in the city centre where we met a guy from Spain who spoke no English. So of course we talked to him in Spanish for over half an hour, which was SUBLIME. I love being able to communicate with people from other countries, albeit poorly. I've realized that while I may be able to translate Spanish like a fiend, without practice my speaking has become embarrassingly poor. Of course, as is always the case, after our conversation I was walking down the sidewalk thinking of all the Spanish phrases I should have been able to think of and use at the time. This probably resulted in me muttering to myself in Spanish in public and looking extra crazy in my legging/pants.
Shoot. In England, pants are called "trousers". "Pants" refer to undergarments. Well, I suppose leggings are closer to undergarments than trousers anyway...
All in all, life is good. Clearly. I'm chilling with people from Britain, Nigeria, Italy, France, and Spain. In one day. EXQUISITE. This is what life is about, people: boybands, minimal clothing, and spontaneous meetings (mainly the last point, but the first two as well ;)). Life is about people, it's about breaking out of our comfortable systems and communities and reaching out to people who we may never have met otherwise. If I hadn't started speaking Spanish to the guy next to me after recognizing his first language, I never would have had the experience of chatting with a native Spaniard in England. We've gotta take risks. We have to break out of those comfortable polite bubbles. Life isn't about solitude, it's about community. So get up out of your bubble and be communal, friends.
I love you all,
Ames
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Oh, the things I have seen...
Today, I saw a plethora of men wearing windpants (the 80s are back, people), windows with curtains displaying ginormous lion heads, and a man on a bike almost get hit by a bus.
And I'm finding that I can no longer put together an intelligent sentence structure in English due to my studying 2/3 classes in another language. Oh French and Spanish, I hate and love you both.
And every time I hear "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry, I am slapped in the face with the fact that I am no longer a teenager, and thus must let go of my teenage dreams and move onto adulthood. Oh wait. That doesn't sound so bad after all ;)
In any case, I haven't bloggedededed for a while, and it seemed like the good time to do such. (Oh gosh. Do you hear this? I can no longer speak English. We're going to have to communicate via grunts and hand motions when I get back...)
My schedule is FINALLY starting to line up. Sort of. Still working on the whole graduating a year early thang. Which will be absolutely worth it, but right now I'm enduring a fairly painful process of sorting out credits, graduation requirements, and senior paper-itis. Ughstah. Working on setting up volunteer work, etc. as well. And yeah. That's the technical side of things.
I spent Sunday in London with four of the members of the Nottingham Breakdance Crew, which was AMAZING. We headed out at nine, in a tiny mint green car, driving on the wrong side of the road, of course. When we arrived at one, we headed straight to Bones to Stones 2010 -- a battle venue in a skate park. Literally, if you do huge moves and land it wrong, you will break bones. HOW BALLER IS THAT??? I felt like I was in a movie, it was SO LEGIT. After five hours of said battles, we headed to the main event -- UK Bboy Championships, World Finals 15th Anniversary!!! We watched the best Bboys, poppers, lockers, and crews battle it out for the championship. Six hours on our feet, and worth every minute of it.
I am so thankful for the life that I lead, and for the opportunities I have been given. I feel SO ALIVE being here -- meeting people from around the world, learning how to breakdance, learning my third language, hopefully teaching hip hop to youth. This is INCREDIBLE.
And what I've realized, is that the more I try to find a "deeper meaning" in life, the less I actually LIVE my life. Why do we look for "deeper meanings" when the meaning of life is to LIVE IT? Thus I'm instilling a policy of less thinking and more living, because my life is going to pass me by unless I grab it with both hands and refuse to let go. This is my life, and I'm going to live it the way I choose -- to the fullest, no regrets, just being me.
That's all, let that be food for thought for your own lives :) Just live your lives, loves.
Love to you all,
Amy
Thursday, September 30, 2010
I Love Public Transportation. And Usher.
Yes. Yes I do.
It struck me today as I sat on the fourth bus of the afternoon: I LOVE BUSES. And the fact that I can get anywhere I need without having to do more than wait, walk through a door, and sit. (Okay, but I also really miss my baby: my 1999 red Jeep Cherokee Sport. That car was part of me...) In essence, public transport is da bomb. End of story. Amurrrica, get on yo game.
All right, so I have officially plugged into 95.8 Capital FM, London's hit music station, and I'm happy to say I'm feeling very united with other Brits around the UK. As we listen to Akon. Who is regularly played in the States. Whatever, this is all about my attempt to bond cyberly with other people in England. Holla. USHER JUST CAME ON. Gosh, I love Usher.
And this post is quickly beginning to have nothing to do with England, so let me remedy that.
I had a huge day of classes today: Human Rights and the Global Sex Trade lecture from 10-11, Advanced Spanish Translation (which was actually awesome and less stressful than I had anticipated) from 11-1, and HR&GST seminar from 2-3. And now I'm home, about to head to bed for some shut eye before I write a paper and run to my third society meeting in 24 hours: Musicality, the musical theatre society. YESSSSS.
Classes are actually really great, from what I can tell in a few class periods. It kind of weirds me out that we only have class once a week, sometimes once every other week, but hey, I'll take it. More free time for meeeeee. Which is going to be rare anyway judging by the length of my reading lists for my classes and the number of societies in which I'm planning on getting involved.
B-T-Dubs, breakdancing and advanced street were both fantastic. I woke up this morning not being sure if I would be able to move, but besides that, I am beginning to feel like quite the Amazon woman. I'm getting muscles in places I didn't even know I had places. Breakdancing is going to be such a fun way to push myself farther and harder than ever before. Time to branch out, yo. Yes. Advanced street is definitely helpful in choreography exposure, allowing me to extend my choreographing abilities :) YES.
Well, all this being said, I think the first British song I'm going to hear today has just come over the radio, which is pretty great. I keep having to remind myself I'm in ENGLAND RIGHT NOW. You'd think I would pick up on that every time I see cars driving on the left side of the road... :)
Love.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Today, I Got Slammed in a Door
I kid you not. That's just how unbelievably classy I am when I go to campus BY MYSELF.
This year, I figured I would be able to make my way around campus quite simply because my classes are restricted to two buildings that are right next to each other: Portland and Trent.
What I failed to recognize, however, is that Trent is designed specifically for the purpose of making students go insane before swallowing them whole in its labyrinthine depths. I wandered around in snaking circles until I finally found the room for my second French seminar (by the way, it takes about 1.5 hours round trip to get to/from campus for a one hour class...)
After class, which was equally as unstructured and strange as the first French seminar I had participated in yesterday, I decided to follow a Brit down a different staircase, thinking he surely would lead me to an exit. Not true. Nope. I ended up wandering through the English department, back and forth, checking in offices hoping there would be an exit, or at least a hallway leading me closer to an exit. I put on my best "I SO know what I'm doing" face, trying to fool the many people congregated in the hallways. Just gonna guess that my game face was counteracted by my wandering through the same hallway several times in a period of five minutes...
I needed to make my way to Portland to buy a book for French, and so I followed the signs in Trent that pointed in that general direction (btw, in England, if a location is "straight ahead," the sign arrows face down, not up. Diagonal arrows indicate going downstairs, or upstairs, or around the corner. All very conveniently understandable, really...). Anyway, I end up wandering through a stuffy tunnel that twists and winds its way to Portland. I kept looking around corners suspiciously, hoping that I was in fact going to Portland and not China. I finally sighted someone ahead of me, which was comforting, so I followed him to the end of the tunnel.
That's when I got slammed in the door.
I tried my best to follow this guy through the door, and instead got my bag and right arm sandwiched between the two. I didn't look back, hoping that if anyone was behind me, my moving forward with confidence would eliminate how awkward it is to get sandwiched between two doors.
It doesn't, just so you know. STILL awkward.
I wandered to the bus stop that would take me directly to Canning Circus so I could catch the 77 to Bobbersmill Bridge to walk home. When I got on the bus, there were several seats open in the back, but I figured I'd just stand in the front because I didn't have a long way to go. Yeah. By the front, I mean the handicapped section. I was the only one standing on the bus, and by the time I started feeling kind of ridiculous, it was far too late to use one of the fold down seats next to me. I stubbornly stood my ground until my stop, and then got off like nobody's business.
Let's just say the past 3 hours have definitely put me past my awkward quota for the day.
Breakdancing and advanced street tonight, three classes tomorrow. Holla.
This year, I figured I would be able to make my way around campus quite simply because my classes are restricted to two buildings that are right next to each other: Portland and Trent.
What I failed to recognize, however, is that Trent is designed specifically for the purpose of making students go insane before swallowing them whole in its labyrinthine depths. I wandered around in snaking circles until I finally found the room for my second French seminar (by the way, it takes about 1.5 hours round trip to get to/from campus for a one hour class...)
After class, which was equally as unstructured and strange as the first French seminar I had participated in yesterday, I decided to follow a Brit down a different staircase, thinking he surely would lead me to an exit. Not true. Nope. I ended up wandering through the English department, back and forth, checking in offices hoping there would be an exit, or at least a hallway leading me closer to an exit. I put on my best "I SO know what I'm doing" face, trying to fool the many people congregated in the hallways. Just gonna guess that my game face was counteracted by my wandering through the same hallway several times in a period of five minutes...
I needed to make my way to Portland to buy a book for French, and so I followed the signs in Trent that pointed in that general direction (btw, in England, if a location is "straight ahead," the sign arrows face down, not up. Diagonal arrows indicate going downstairs, or upstairs, or around the corner. All very conveniently understandable, really...). Anyway, I end up wandering through a stuffy tunnel that twists and winds its way to Portland. I kept looking around corners suspiciously, hoping that I was in fact going to Portland and not China. I finally sighted someone ahead of me, which was comforting, so I followed him to the end of the tunnel.
That's when I got slammed in the door.
I tried my best to follow this guy through the door, and instead got my bag and right arm sandwiched between the two. I didn't look back, hoping that if anyone was behind me, my moving forward with confidence would eliminate how awkward it is to get sandwiched between two doors.
It doesn't, just so you know. STILL awkward.
I wandered to the bus stop that would take me directly to Canning Circus so I could catch the 77 to Bobbersmill Bridge to walk home. When I got on the bus, there were several seats open in the back, but I figured I'd just stand in the front because I didn't have a long way to go. Yeah. By the front, I mean the handicapped section. I was the only one standing on the bus, and by the time I started feeling kind of ridiculous, it was far too late to use one of the fold down seats next to me. I stubbornly stood my ground until my stop, and then got off like nobody's business.
Let's just say the past 3 hours have definitely put me past my awkward quota for the day.
Breakdancing and advanced street tonight, three classes tomorrow. Holla.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
First Class = Mixed Messages, Indian Friends, and Incredible Hunger
I had my first class in England EVER today!!! And it was grand.
And not that I don't think you're important, but I really should be honest and admit that I'm writing this blog to distract myself from the gnawing hunger that is assailing me an hour prior to dinner. That being said...
French 1A plopped into my schedule at 2pm today, and I plopped myself next to a friendly looking person, who turned out to be an Indian student studying at Drake in IA who is now studying in Nottingham for the semester. Her name was Sonrita, which is like "sonrisa" in Spanish, which means "smile", and I just thought it was adorable. On my right was Sofia from Italy, studying in Nottingham for the full three years. Both were incredibly friendly and made my first class enjoyable.
However, the professor came in looking grim as ever, threw her things on the table, and continued to lecture us on how this would be "an intensive course" and that most of us would not make it to see another day of French because "French is one of the hardest languages". (...Need I remind you that we're in an INTRODUCTORY French course. I think we'll be okay...) However, after this lecture I'm pretty sure my eyes were bulging awkwardly out of my head, and I had to will them back into my skull so I didn't look so obviously panicked.
By the end of the class, however, I was able to wipe my brow, realizing that I had in fact made the cut and could remain in the class, and that our professor had a tough facade but was truly sarcastically funny underneath. Pleasant surprises are always a good way to counteract the initial terror of the first day of class... :)
The class itself was certainly not structured the way I would have imagined it would be. I haven't begun a language for 7 years, so the complete lack of structure was bewildering to say the least. The first thing she had us do was pronounce all of the countries and nationalities after she did. This was difficult, having absolutely no knowledge of how to read, understand, or pronounce the French gibberish that was sketched across the page in front of us. When she asked me where I was from, in French, and I tried to answer, in French, I must have managed to answer in more of a Spanish accent than anything (common mistake for a third-language-learner), and she asked me, in French, if I was from the Dominican Republic. No. No, I am not. I'm just American... which is probably painfully obvious by now.
In any case, it should be an adventure to take French and an advanced Spanish translation course at the same time. We'll see how that goes down, but hey, it was about time my dream of being trilingual became reality, so I'm truly very excited about it!
Both breakdancing and advanced street dance societies start tomorrow evening (right during dinner, ironically, as American dinners are at least 3 hours before typical Brit dinners), and the musical theatre group will meet on Thursday. (Also the day three of my classes meet. Ouch. Long day, but survivable.)
Until then, I am trying my best to ignore the delicious scent of lasagna (which is army crawling its way under my door) by watching old original videos from freshman year. Oh short hair, I miss thee some days... it was just so sassy! And straight. There's really no point straightening my hair here with all the constant moisture in the air. Thank God for the hormonal changes that have given me easily manageable curls :)
Until next time!
And not that I don't think you're important, but I really should be honest and admit that I'm writing this blog to distract myself from the gnawing hunger that is assailing me an hour prior to dinner. That being said...
French 1A plopped into my schedule at 2pm today, and I plopped myself next to a friendly looking person, who turned out to be an Indian student studying at Drake in IA who is now studying in Nottingham for the semester. Her name was Sonrita, which is like "sonrisa" in Spanish, which means "smile", and I just thought it was adorable. On my right was Sofia from Italy, studying in Nottingham for the full three years. Both were incredibly friendly and made my first class enjoyable.
However, the professor came in looking grim as ever, threw her things on the table, and continued to lecture us on how this would be "an intensive course" and that most of us would not make it to see another day of French because "French is one of the hardest languages". (...Need I remind you that we're in an INTRODUCTORY French course. I think we'll be okay...) However, after this lecture I'm pretty sure my eyes were bulging awkwardly out of my head, and I had to will them back into my skull so I didn't look so obviously panicked.
By the end of the class, however, I was able to wipe my brow, realizing that I had in fact made the cut and could remain in the class, and that our professor had a tough facade but was truly sarcastically funny underneath. Pleasant surprises are always a good way to counteract the initial terror of the first day of class... :)
The class itself was certainly not structured the way I would have imagined it would be. I haven't begun a language for 7 years, so the complete lack of structure was bewildering to say the least. The first thing she had us do was pronounce all of the countries and nationalities after she did. This was difficult, having absolutely no knowledge of how to read, understand, or pronounce the French gibberish that was sketched across the page in front of us. When she asked me where I was from, in French, and I tried to answer, in French, I must have managed to answer in more of a Spanish accent than anything (common mistake for a third-language-learner), and she asked me, in French, if I was from the Dominican Republic. No. No, I am not. I'm just American... which is probably painfully obvious by now.
In any case, it should be an adventure to take French and an advanced Spanish translation course at the same time. We'll see how that goes down, but hey, it was about time my dream of being trilingual became reality, so I'm truly very excited about it!
Both breakdancing and advanced street dance societies start tomorrow evening (right during dinner, ironically, as American dinners are at least 3 hours before typical Brit dinners), and the musical theatre group will meet on Thursday. (Also the day three of my classes meet. Ouch. Long day, but survivable.)
Until then, I am trying my best to ignore the delicious scent of lasagna (which is army crawling its way under my door) by watching old original videos from freshman year. Oh short hair, I miss thee some days... it was just so sassy! And straight. There's really no point straightening my hair here with all the constant moisture in the air. Thank God for the hormonal changes that have given me easily manageable curls :)
Until next time!
Monday, September 27, 2010
London London Londontown
IS SUCH A WONDERFUL PLACE OF MAGICAL AMAZINGNESS!!!!
This is going to be a doozy of a post, so just embrace it and mentally prepare yourselves ;) Also, doozy is totally a word. Stupid spellcheck. Also, I'm declaring spellcheck a word. Stupid spellcheck.
OKAY.
When we stepped off the train into the famous St. Pancras International Train Station, I almost died with excitement: I WAS IN LONDON!!! When we made it out into the streets, already bustling with Friday night activity, a ridiculous smile stretched my face beyond the capacity of my skin. I had waited 20 years to be in this city, and there I was, ready to explore and conquer.
That night, Danny, Aaron, and I had a little "guys' night plus Amy" at the local pub before getting dressed up to head out to the clubs for the night. We ended up at "The Zoo" -- appropriately named based on the number of people present that night. All was fun and games until we couldn't quite find our way home and I realized I had to go to the bathroom so badly that it might be a better option to rip my bladder out of my body than wait the fifteen minutes to get home. Luckily, we did make it in time, and I slept incredibly well after alleviating the excruciating pain that was tearing its way through the walls of my bladder. Oof.
The next morning we went on Alison's Literary Golden Mile (a literary tour of the homes/workplaces of famous authors throughout our corner of London). It was the perfect day for a tour -- sun shining... traffic chirping...? I don't really recall any birds, except massively huge ravens. Ugh. The tour ended in the British Library (for scholars only!) at an exhibit of the original works of famous authors, musicians, and theologians.
I. Almost. Cried.
I saw Jane Austen's handwriting scribbling through pages of her original journal -- some of her first works! I saw the original copy of Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. But what really moved me, not surprisingly, was the music section. To see with my own eyes original copies of music created by Henry Purcell (many of whose songs I have practiced in previous years), Handel's Messiah, Schubert, Beethoven's tuning fork... lyrics from the Beatles scribbled on envelopes and scrap pieces of paper. Seeing their edits was like watching the creative process unfold in front of me, something I am well familiar with in my own pursuits of original musicality. I felt so akin to these famous musicians and composers, yet so incredibly small in my endeavors. Handel wrote his Messiah in TWENTY FOUR DAYS. Pure genius, in twenty four days. INCREDIBLE.
After eating the biggest blueberry muffin in the world (which was really more like a cupcake with a clump of blueberries in the middle, not objecting!), we headed to the famous British Museum to visit the mummies and Greco-Roman sculptures.
The highlight of the day, however, was going to the Barbican Theatre to see the London Symphony Orchestra perform a three part concert. Oh. My. Word. There is nothing in the world that speaks to my soul like live classical music. I can close my eyes and let my imagination run like fire. Classical music brings me straight back to the arms of my family -- to a mother whose piano music has embraced the walls of our home since my childhood, to a father whose love for classical music inspired my love for it in the first place. I felt so at home, and so inspired to never let my music go. Music is in everything that I am. Music fills my head when I walk down the street, covers my dreams at night, wakes me up in the morning, and pumps through my veins when I dance. Nothing will ever hold my attention like music.
After the spiritual high of Saturday, Sunday had enormous shoes to fill, and fill them it did! We headed to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre (unfortunately, only a replica as the original burned down centuries ago) and saw Henry IV Part I in a setting much akin to the theatres in Elizabethan time. As I stood by the stage (the true way to see an Elizabethan style play), I was taken back hundreds of years to a time when getting a standing spot at a theatre cost one penny, 1/6 of a day's wage. Aside from the Northfaces and beer bottles, I would have easily been fooled into believing I had certainly stepped into another time. What a fabulous and priceless experience it is to be able to let your mind fall backward in time, and to awaken only to realize that that kind of history certainly does exist. That those people did exist. Hundreds, thousands of years ago. They were there. Our country is so young....
So that was London. And it was WONDERFUL! I would be so incredibly happy to live there (minus the added expenses of living in a big city), but I will be perfectly content living in Nottingham for these 9 months. After graduation, who knows where I'll end up. Not knowing the future is kind of exciting, isn't it? :)
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Pancake Batter & Onion Baths
Sounds fascinating, right? Well, that's basically what ends up happening when you do dishes after cooking and serving pancakes, vegetable scrambled eggs, and fruit salad to 16 people. I have confirmed my notion that I will not be a housewife, nor will I have many children, for I find little to no pleasure in cooking for hoards of people.
Overall, though, it was a swell experience. We had many a mishap, but it was all made entertaining when Justin Timberlake's SexyBack started pumping through the laptop speakers. Three made plenty of company and the work light, so the giant task ended up a success :)
Now to recap the last 24 hours, I have to unfortunately relive some very dark moments of my life...
It all began with registration. Bile rises to my throat at the memory. I stood in three lines, for three departments, for four classes, for over four hours. My longest line went down a long hallway one way, down the stairs, and back up the stairs for TWO FLOORS. It was daunting to say the least...
Four hours later, I miraculously ended up with every class I needed to get into, and then some! YES PRAISE THE LORD.
Walking through hell and back certainly called for a shopping spree (originally for school supplies, but we ended up running out of time...). Abby, Aimee, and I found great clubbing dresses for £10, and decided we were ready to hit the town that night.
We had paid for tickets to Oceana, a club in downtown Nottingham, as part of Freshers Week. What we should've gathered from the title of the week, however, was that every single person there would be eighteen and obnoxious. Once again, we were juniors and seniors in college being treated like freshmen, and it was really more than we could bear. The hottest guy there was the guy manning the lights, and as he was off limits, we wound up leaving early, looking slightly ridiculous in our club gear riding the bus through our quaint neighborhood at eleven. Even the bus driver was laughing at us... what a way to cap off an incredibly awkward night... We hope to regain our confidence and then some in London ;)
Then today I woke up at 7:30 to get a shower and mentally prepare myself for, yep, CLASSES. Why they would start classes the day after the most painstaking registration process of my life was completely beyond me, but I obediently got dressed and headed to the bus stop.
Abby and I got to our class only to realize, after waiting for 20 minutes, that our class in fact did not start until next week, and that my Spanish seminar would also be postponed until after the 27th. Why they couldn't have told us this at registration is still something of a mystery to me, but I have learned to lift my chin and bear the rampid miscommunication with a smile.
On the way home from picking up our school supplies in the city centre, Abby and I heatedly shared our irritation with the world as it is, discussing the importance of both feminism and having a knowledge of politics before publicly attaching yourself to one party. I descended the stairs (double-decker buses are wonderful things, btw) saying something incredibly pointed and dramatic like, "If I'm not a feminist, who will be?" And then I fell. And dropped my bag of school supplies down the aisle. It was super classy, I assure you. Trying to hold back my embarrassed laughter, I picked up my bag and walked off the bus without making eye contact with the other passengers on the bus that day.
So to recap: Registration lines all the way to China, robbing the cradle, waking up to go to nonexistent classes, falling off a bus, and bathing in pancake batter and onion. Eventful, to say the least!
Hoping London will prove itself to be eventful as well, but in all the best ways possible :)
Overall, though, it was a swell experience. We had many a mishap, but it was all made entertaining when Justin Timberlake's SexyBack started pumping through the laptop speakers. Three made plenty of company and the work light, so the giant task ended up a success :)
Now to recap the last 24 hours, I have to unfortunately relive some very dark moments of my life...
It all began with registration. Bile rises to my throat at the memory. I stood in three lines, for three departments, for four classes, for over four hours. My longest line went down a long hallway one way, down the stairs, and back up the stairs for TWO FLOORS. It was daunting to say the least...
Four hours later, I miraculously ended up with every class I needed to get into, and then some! YES PRAISE THE LORD.
Walking through hell and back certainly called for a shopping spree (originally for school supplies, but we ended up running out of time...). Abby, Aimee, and I found great clubbing dresses for £10, and decided we were ready to hit the town that night.
We had paid for tickets to Oceana, a club in downtown Nottingham, as part of Freshers Week. What we should've gathered from the title of the week, however, was that every single person there would be eighteen and obnoxious. Once again, we were juniors and seniors in college being treated like freshmen, and it was really more than we could bear. The hottest guy there was the guy manning the lights, and as he was off limits, we wound up leaving early, looking slightly ridiculous in our club gear riding the bus through our quaint neighborhood at eleven. Even the bus driver was laughing at us... what a way to cap off an incredibly awkward night... We hope to regain our confidence and then some in London ;)
Then today I woke up at 7:30 to get a shower and mentally prepare myself for, yep, CLASSES. Why they would start classes the day after the most painstaking registration process of my life was completely beyond me, but I obediently got dressed and headed to the bus stop.
Abby and I got to our class only to realize, after waiting for 20 minutes, that our class in fact did not start until next week, and that my Spanish seminar would also be postponed until after the 27th. Why they couldn't have told us this at registration is still something of a mystery to me, but I have learned to lift my chin and bear the rampid miscommunication with a smile.
On the way home from picking up our school supplies in the city centre, Abby and I heatedly shared our irritation with the world as it is, discussing the importance of both feminism and having a knowledge of politics before publicly attaching yourself to one party. I descended the stairs (double-decker buses are wonderful things, btw) saying something incredibly pointed and dramatic like, "If I'm not a feminist, who will be?" And then I fell. And dropped my bag of school supplies down the aisle. It was super classy, I assure you. Trying to hold back my embarrassed laughter, I picked up my bag and walked off the bus without making eye contact with the other passengers on the bus that day.
So to recap: Registration lines all the way to China, robbing the cradle, waking up to go to nonexistent classes, falling off a bus, and bathing in pancake batter and onion. Eventful, to say the least!
Hoping London will prove itself to be eventful as well, but in all the best ways possible :)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Today...
What to even TELL you about today?
At least half of the flat residents are sick, or about to become plagued with the same colds that have affected the rest of us due to the incredibly close living quarters. And the jet-lag. And the adjustment to a new climate. England is wonderful, until it donates eight pounds of mucus to the cavity between your eyeballs. Cheers.
This week has been hella stressful for many of us, as registration is now upon us all! The University of Nottingham, despite its decades of experience dealing with international students, has failed to create a system that will allow said students to register without pulling their hair out or wanting to shoot an unsuspecting squirrel in the tail with a bow and arrow. (Note: I do not condone violence against animals. Violence is not the answer. Make love, not war.) So really, many of us (lucky as we are to be part of a "well-balanced liberal arts education" in the States) are running between four or five different departments in the hopes of getting into upper level courses that have already been opened to the local upperclassmen for registration.
No one told me that being an international student would mean being treated like a freshman. Just what I've always wanted -- backtracking FOUR YEARS in my university life. Joy.
So tomorrow is the day -- the daunting day that has loomed over my head for the past week, and has caused many a scream session with my flatmates. I have carefully formulated backups for my very specific requirements for graduation (what a dandy it is to try to graduate the year you're studying abroad... not that I regret either decision, but holy wow...), created a systematic timeline for when to most efficiently run to each building and stand in a queue (line) to speak to the one person working the department registration desk that day. Conveniently enough, all four of my schools that I need to run to have scheduled registration AT THE SAME TIME.
Dear Lord, help us all.
I hope to send a more optimistic update to you tomorrow, but only time will tell whether the archaic methodology of registration employed here in Nottingham will manage to royally screw me over or not. I hope to evade any such misfortune, and instead I plan to endure through any and all circumstances... after throwing a fit for wasting so much time on formulating the perfect plan by which to succeed, most likely by dancing with more enthusiasm than necessary.
But hey, there's always hope, right? ...Right?
And alas, I see a light at the end of the tunnel, and that light is London. (ETA 24/9/2010)
Time to go snuggle with my kleenix box... ;)
At least half of the flat residents are sick, or about to become plagued with the same colds that have affected the rest of us due to the incredibly close living quarters. And the jet-lag. And the adjustment to a new climate. England is wonderful, until it donates eight pounds of mucus to the cavity between your eyeballs. Cheers.
This week has been hella stressful for many of us, as registration is now upon us all! The University of Nottingham, despite its decades of experience dealing with international students, has failed to create a system that will allow said students to register without pulling their hair out or wanting to shoot an unsuspecting squirrel in the tail with a bow and arrow. (Note: I do not condone violence against animals. Violence is not the answer. Make love, not war.) So really, many of us (lucky as we are to be part of a "well-balanced liberal arts education" in the States) are running between four or five different departments in the hopes of getting into upper level courses that have already been opened to the local upperclassmen for registration.
No one told me that being an international student would mean being treated like a freshman. Just what I've always wanted -- backtracking FOUR YEARS in my university life. Joy.
So tomorrow is the day -- the daunting day that has loomed over my head for the past week, and has caused many a scream session with my flatmates. I have carefully formulated backups for my very specific requirements for graduation (what a dandy it is to try to graduate the year you're studying abroad... not that I regret either decision, but holy wow...), created a systematic timeline for when to most efficiently run to each building and stand in a queue (line) to speak to the one person working the department registration desk that day. Conveniently enough, all four of my schools that I need to run to have scheduled registration AT THE SAME TIME.
Dear Lord, help us all.
I hope to send a more optimistic update to you tomorrow, but only time will tell whether the archaic methodology of registration employed here in Nottingham will manage to royally screw me over or not. I hope to evade any such misfortune, and instead I plan to endure through any and all circumstances... after throwing a fit for wasting so much time on formulating the perfect plan by which to succeed, most likely by dancing with more enthusiasm than necessary.
But hey, there's always hope, right? ...Right?
And alas, I see a light at the end of the tunnel, and that light is London. (ETA 24/9/2010)
Time to go snuggle with my kleenix box... ;)
Friday, September 17, 2010
A Craving for Caramel Shortbread
Yeah. It sounds fabulous, I KNOW. And I've been craving it all day...
But that aside, HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE! So sorry to have kept you waiting for a post this long. The group had a glorious 4 day trip to York, Alnwich, Lindesfarne, and Durham which kept me from the computer (which was incredibly refreshing, by the way) and thus I haven't had time to drop an update.
And unfortunately, I've had to write at least two papers on my journey, so I really don't have the spirits to disclose the details of the weekend adventures again. Here's the short version: York Minster (Cathedral) was completely beautiful and majestic in its incredible glory, Alnwich was eventful for all ;), Lindesfarne was quaint and serves great chicken soup (although it is also plagued with an angry horde of bees), and Durham was also splendid, complete with a 325 stair trek (haha, so "punny"...) to the top of Durham Cathedral where we could see 20 miles in all directions. Wonderful? Yes. Oh yes.
But enough about the weekend, I want to talk about the glory of everyday life here at Nottingham. No, no, I promise it's exciting. Hang in there.
Let me set the scene: I am sitting here after reading a dozen BBC Mundo Internacional articles in Spanish to, 1. Practice Spanish and, most importantly, 2. Refresh my knowledge of worldly affairs. (America is poorly undereducated on what is going on around the world, and I plan on breaking that stereotype THANK YOU.) Sara Bareilles is singing her jazzy voice out through my laptop speakers (Pandora doesn't work in the UK :(), and I am drinking my body mass in water as I type once again to you lovely people. Life is sweet :)
So here was my day, typical of many a day spent here in Nottingham:
We (Aimee, Abby, and I) finished up registration at the University (I get to register for classes Monday and Wednesday -- SO PUMPED, more on this once my schedule is completed) and headed to the city centre to grab some lunch at Brown Betty's, a hole in the wall restaurant only open for lunch Mon-Fri. The service is remarkably quick, the portions wonderfully huge, and the food absolutely sublime. We had massive club ciabatta sandwiches, which I inhaled in about 2 minutes it was SO DELICIOUS. Definitely planning on hitting up BB's frequently :)
We then embarked to Waterstone's bookstore, a glorious five story bookstore that I could easily lose myself in. We grabbed coffee and sat by the window, each blissfully submerged in our book of choice (one read a romance novel, another a suspense/thriller, and one a book titled "Feminist Theology" ... what book was mine, I wonder? ;)). We read leisurely for an hour or so before breaking our silence to delve into a lengthy theological discussion. IT WAS GLORIOUS. I am increasingly amazed at how blessed I am to be surrounded by such an exceptional group of intelligent individuals, full of passion, compassion, and unique ideas -- the very models of open-mindedness, eager to learn and listen to other opinions.
After talking for a few hours, we set off in search of food at the Hog's Head pub (the Harry Potter references are KILLING me! Love it!). The food once again was FABULOUS and finished quickly as we marveled at the confusing sport that is cricket. It's like baseball... but without running... or gloves... or any semblance of a sport...
After exploring the other end of town, which was chalk full of attractive men (ALWAYS a plus), we headed home once again, where I donned my gangsta sweats and broke it down in the church overflow (complete with wood stage, PERFECT for practicing floor work) to dance off the delicious food I had consumed.
And now you find me here, completely content with the day and eagerly anticipating many more of the kind. England is treating me so well, and I can't imagine any place I'd rather be.
Cheers!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
The Best Buys Around
Okay. Today we visited the campus (to better understand which mode of transportation may best suit our needs), where I stepped on dead bird guts (yum), checked out the entire Nottingham rugby team (YUM), and visited the buildings we'll be staying in for our student orientation in a few days.
But the best part of the day (I know, you thought I'd say the rugby players, right?) was the amount of things I bought today for the amount of pounds I dished out. (Note to Mom and Dad: I only bought things I legitimately needed. I'm not going store or boy crazy...yet. Just kidding. ;))
For lunch, we had a personal pizza, choice of bottled drink, and dessert for less than 3 pounds(about $4.50).
Then we went on stunning photo adventures (to get the touristy photo-taking out of the way). My favorite was the one shown at the beginning of this blog: we were trying to take pictures in front of the main square, and this guy would not take the hint and move. So I took a picture WITH him instead... without him knowing, of course :)
Finally, I bought a pair of heels (I desperately needed to replace my black dress shoes) and jeans (boyfriend fit, perfect for the gangsta inside) for a total of 15 pounds (about $23)!!!
Amazing. England, I love you.
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