painting the town

Three days ago I had my first Hot Crossed Bun experience. Yes, it deserves the capital letters. They're yummy.

They have raisins, something like dates, maybe some cinnamon, and they're GOOD. Hot with butter. They served them to us at the dining hall for our last dinner there before (the equivalent of) spring break.

Speaking of spring break, mine has begun!

Saturday I flew with Lois (a friend from University) to London. [She lives near London and I was migrating to see Jean.]

Last night we had every intention of getting up early to be productive to get a few things done before our trip, but we had forgotten about daylight savings time. Oops. Clocks switched. We got up at 9 [8.30 was the plan], decided not to be quite as productive, and made our way to Covent Gardens.

Covent Gardens is amazing. There was an opera singer and musicians playing for change and to sell cds. [Dad would love this.] I'm pretty sure they were professionals just having a good time on a Sunday morning. A folk musician played on the street outside. Sad songs, mostly. I tried not to listen too hard. Sad music on a sunny Sunday? I think not. There was a market thing with a lot of stalls of random things. [Mom would love this.] Much like the Mexican Market in San Antonio or that other road I went to with Jean last time I was here. (Don't remember the name, sadly. I'll have to ask Jean.)

We wandered around for a while, until my stomach could no longer be ignored in its protesting for food. We managed to find a nice little place that was still serving breakfast at 8.29, and I wolfed down one of the best English breakfasts I've had in a while. And I mean wolfed. I finished my entire HUGE plate of food before Jean finished her much-smaller Granola with Yoghurt (that's how it's spelled here). The early lunch has kept me full even until now, and it's almost 7. Yummy.

After wandering back and finding an adorable (and cheap) pair of earrings, Jean and I headed out to watch the Oxford-Cambridge boat race. This boat race seems to be the equivalent of the huge rowing regatta that happens on the Charles every year, except there is much more questionable class involved. In general, the plan is to show up early with either (depending on age) glass of wine or bottle of something-or-other and wait until the boats pass you by about two hours later. Some dress up for the occasion, but since it's outside, the weather is a bit chilly, and there's mud under bridges, I didn't see too many people dressed in anything but jeans.

Unfortunately, despite the tradition of this rowing race, Jean and I had a mishap. Apparently, the London subway (the Tube) chose this weekend to close one of the lines between us and where we were meeting up with a few friends. We didn't notice the closure, sadly, had to double-back a few stops, and ended up arriving much later than originally planned. And we missed it. The boats rowed by, and Jean and I weren't there. Sad day. We did, however, meet up with the same friends, and head for chips (fries) at a nearby place before going back to Jean's dorm to make it in time for dinner.

There are no pictures of today (much to my dismay) because I accidentally left my camera in the room, but, rest assured, there will be several photographs to come.

absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Things I learned in the last four days:


1. When buying a dress from CULT, keep the receipt. The strap on mine broke the first time I wore it and I have to take it back.

2. A ceilidh (kay-lee) is basically like contradance in Massachusetts, or general folk dancing. I should have guessed. They call the dance at the beginning of each song. Lots of confusion, lots of fun, lots of sweat.

3. Aerial Assault Courses are SCARY. Similar to a ropes course, kinda. But 100 feet off the ground. Up in the air. You have to wear a harness thing. TERRIFYING. And I was sore afterward.

4. I really should have been more on top of things the last couple of weeks. Oops. Maybe I can make up for it now?

5. It’s 23 degrees CELSIUS in Nerja, Spain right now.

6. Spanish people only believe I speak Spanish for one email’s time. By the time I made it to the second email about hotel reservations, they switched to English. Oops. I thought I could be more convincing than that. I guess not.

7. I have to learn to fit two weeks’ worth of Susannah into one single backpack. I don’t know how this is going to happen. Unless I forget about clean clothes altogether and just decide to take on a smell. It’s what backpackers do, right? I can be hippie like that. No I can’t. That’s a lie.

8. I really crave some fajitas. And ribs. And sweet tea. And decent mashed potatoes. And BLUE BELL ICE CREAM.

9. You can’t use an American card at an ATM (cashpoint/cash machine) to top up your phone. You can only withdraw cash. You need a British card to actually put credit on your phone from a cash machine.

10. I’m going to Paris in a week! And the beach in Spain one week later! If there’s a lack of internet activity on my behalf, that’s the reason.

11. I’m done with all essays and course assessments except for final exams.



I wanted to go there into the cornflower blue of Crayola, the royal, the turquoise, the sky.
-- The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold

bad news first

Bad news:

My rainboots have holes. Two in each foot. On the top. On either side of the top of my foot near the toes. I. AM. SO. SAD. I LOVE these boots. [I almost typed “wellies” there. That’s what they’re called here, obviously. Because “Wellington’s” OBVIOUSLY means “rainboots”.]

Let me explain. I looked for bright yellow rainboots for YEARS. I always wanted a yellow rainboots. Somehow yellow rainboots and rain go together. Maybe it’s because we never get rain in Texas. I had to idealize my rain. Rough childhood. Regardless of the psychological reasons causing my illogical love of thunderstorms and yellow rain slickers, I have always needed a pair of yellow rainboots.

Last fall I found them. On sale. My life was complete. What else could a girl ask for than rain and yellow rainboots?

Now I am in the CITY OF RAIN and they have holes. And I get so many comments on them. They’re conversation-starters. [Kind of like my Mavs shirt: I always meet a Mavs fan when wearing the shirt.] I’ve made friends with these rainboots.

What am I going to do?

I’m pretty sure I’m going to wear them to death. With warm socks that dry quickly. Until I either can’t wear them anymore because they’re disgracefully shabby, or until I find new ones. I’m hoping for the latter.

Now that all of you are appropriately upset about my rainboots [if not, YOU SHOULD BE], we can move on to more positive news. No need to leave you feeling so down. You took the time to read; no need to make your life miserable with the death of my wellies.

Good news:

I have discovered a new love of daffodils. They’re so happy. So bright. So cheery. There are hundreds of them all over the city of Edinburgh. Some in the meadows next to campus, some in the square in campus, several in people’s gardens in front of their flats. I can’t help it. Daffodils mean spring is coming.

Besides, they’re often next to purple flowers. And, in case you didn’t already know, I like purple and yellow together. Also happy.

That’s all. Superhappydaffodils.

And I’m one essay, one presentation, one internship application, two teacher recommendations, one ball, one ball dress, one birthday excursion, one lasertagwithsmallgroup activity, and one week of normal classes from my three-week-long spring break. LET THE COUNTDOWN BEGIN.

they should give me an award

Two essays done, one presentation done. One essay and one presentation to go.

The problem I’ve run into is that I have NO IDEA what I’m writing about on this essay. The class I’m in is one of the most scattered courses I’ve ever encountered. The lectures don’t seem to follow a trajectory. Vaguely chronological, but there’s no pattern. There’s no focus on wars, the implication of international interactions, humanitarian concerns, nothing. And the lecturer gets sidetracked easily. All these things add up to me being REALLY confused about exactly what she wants in an essay and what exactly any of these articles mean.

My room has turned into the study/work room. I quite like it. I have a hot water kettle [for tea, obviously], a constant supply of cereal, a decently comfy bed, and wordless jazz that makes any student feel instantly more intellectual and capable of writing a fantastic paper. The addition of people means I have company when working, and a built-in distraction when my eyes can no longer focus on a computer screen.

In other news, did you read the news? I’ve been behind lately, but twitter tells me that NPR decided to report on the breakup of Sarah Palin’s daughter.

I’m as much a fan of gossip news as… well, I’m not much of a fan. But politicized breakups are hilarious.

Apparently, Bristol Palin and her fiancé (baby daddy) decided “a while ago” to break it off. Now, why is this significant and news-worthy? Multiple choice question! :

a. Sarah Palin could be running for office herself soon. I mean, it’s feasible. And many news people were talking about it at the end of the campaigns last year. This makes any and all business concerning her family and office instantly interesting. Unfortunately, no one will know it’s interesting for another two and half years.

b. Everyone really wants to know about Bristol Palin’s breakup. Doubt it.

c. NPR wanted to point out that AFTER THE CAMPAIGN WAS OVER Sarah’s daughter suddenly isn’t getting married. AND it’s been off for “a while.” Highly suspicious. Perhaps the engagement was a campaign ploy? Maybe?

d. Both a and c.


Now, I like Sarah Palin as much as the next person. Truly, I do. She has cool hair and a funny accent. Her politics also seem to be a happy accident that she’s thrilled about. That’s awesome. Go for it. Wave at those Russians from your backyard. I would just like to point out, though, the hilarity of this story. Good job, NPR. You made my night. I can now happily go back to reading about power-sharing in Burundi knowing that Sarah still has family drama that makes the national news organizations.

On that note, goodnight, and I wish my life were filled with more things than papers. One day it will be, I promise.

more procrastination. i'm a professional

This morning there were clouds. The grey-ish, white-ish clouds. They looked familiar. I couldn’t quite pinpoint WHY they looked familiar, but they did. And is it really possible for clouds to look familiar?

Leaving class, I learned why. These clouds contained snow. Not the fun snow. The kind of snow that falls in wet droplets and PRETENDS to be snow then disappoints you by just soaking all the clothes you’re wearing and ruining your perfectly nice walk back from classes.

There was snow this morning, and now it’s sunny. REALLY sunny. There’s a blue sky and everything.

Weird weather puts me in a weird mood.

I have another paper due next week. And a presentation on Ethiopia’s dominance in the horn of Africa.

I really shouldn’t be complaining about the amount of work I have here. It really hasn’t been anything at all compared to my home university. But these next couple of weeks will be tough, I imagine.

Tuesday: Presentation
Wednesday: Political Economy paper due.

Then the next week I have another paper and another presentation.

On that note, I better get back to reading for my paper. I have so much work to do, and I really don’t want to do any of it. The last paper I wrote was actually fun to write. Call me insane, but I enjoy writing about political theory. Everything has to be explained, which instantly meets all word-count requirements. Plus, I did a social theory, which means I get to talk about relationship between people and states, which is one of my favorite things ever.

Wow. I’m a dork.

Anyway, this paper is on Asian regionalism.

Obviously, I don’t find it as fun.

Just a friendly update from your neighborhood university student. Perhaps in a few weeks I will be more chatty.

I will add, though, that Jean and I have booked our flights. As soon as classes end we’re going to Paris, and then we’re spending a few days on the beach in Spain. SO excited.

the power of suggestion

I’ve heard rumors there was a nasty amount of snow along the Eastern coast of the US last night and for the last couple of days. Even Atlanta was hit.

Now, I’m as sympathetic as the next person about the snow being dangerous. Snow can truly be deadly. I’m just as upset at the death of a pregnant woman and her mother.

But is it really necessary to make me depressed about snow? I mean, really.

This article is the thing I’m talking about.

I’ve always wondered why there isn’t a larger percentage of people who enjoyed the snow. Well, I guess now I have my answer. It’s the newspapers. If you always report about the snow like it’s the end of the world, of COURSE no one’s going to enjoy it.

It’s nice to be up to date and know that a thousand flights were cancelled by ten a.m., but, if the newspapers report death and destruction with every major snowstorm, you’re going to be very depressed until you move to southern California.

These people live on the East Coast. I realize it’s unusual to get snow in North Carolina. And I realize it’s unusual to get more than a foot of snow at the beginning of March. But, really? There are children around. Children who love to sled down hills. [I know I do.] People who get out there and take food and water to the stranded people. Mothers who have a spontaneous take-your-kid-to-work day. Fathers who just HAVE to stay home and go make snow angels with their kids. [darn.]

Why can’t snow be a good thing?

I like the guy at the end.

procratination

A particularly vocal bird has taken up a position very near my dorm these last few evenings.

It’s wonderful. I think he’s having a conversation with another bird nearby. The birds have a habit of becoming more vocal after dark rather than in the early hours of the morning. It’s a strange phenomenon and I like it.

It’s also gotten dark later and later everyday here. When I first got here the sun went down around 4.30. It was depressing, but New England is almost as bad. I had a little conditioning. Today it didn’t get dark until around 5.30. A whole hour’s change in the sunset in just 4 or 5 weeks. That’s AWESOME. Before you know it there’ll be light until 10 at night.

Not too many eventful things happening in my life at the moment. For the last two or three days I’ve been working on a paper about political theory, and that’s been taking up all my time.

When I write papers, I also don’t allow myself to read anything for fun. In fact, I try not to read anything at all unless I absolutely have to. I attempt to get all my reading for class done before or after I write a paper. I’ve found that my writing changes based partially on what I’m reading at the time. I would hate for my writing to change mid-paper. That sounds terrible.

Once I read C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity just before writing a paper. I ended up using many real-world examples in the same manner Lewis uses them. With every claim about society or the characters in the book I was analyzing, there was an example to follow. I couldn’t help myself. It was as if I caught a disease that made me pick up parts of Lewis’s style.

Since I’ve been reading The Mill on the Floss recently, I didn’t want to write political and social theory the way George Eliot tells stories. I’d be here for months. And the essay is capped at 2000 words. If I wrote like Eliot, do you think I could cap anything at 2000 words? I think not.

Anyway, the reason for the ranting is that I’m so close to being finished with the essay, but I can’t seem to wrap it up. It makes me distraught. I just want the thing done. It's pretty much done, though.


By writing this, I have procrastinated another reasonable amount of time. Hooray!