To Market, to Market… September 29, 2008

Last weekend was my market weekend. Saturday, Jill and I met outside of Beaumont and took a leisurely tube ride from Mile End to Notting Hill Gate. Mmhmm. Notting Hill. Why, you ask? To go to one of the largest markets (if not the largest) market in London, Portobello Road. Now, when I think of Portobello Road, I think of two things: first, the movie Notting Hill with Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. I read ages ago that the owner of the house in Notting Hill painted over the now-iconic blue door, so it would be difficult to find without doing some serious investigation. The second thing is Bedknobs and Broomsticks with the lovely Angela Lansbury, which my dear roomie introduced me to last year. So, as I followed the scripted iron signs pointing towards Portobello Road Market, I heard the refrain ‘Portobello Road, Portobello Road” ala Angela ringing through my head. To be honest, it got a tad annoying, but in a delightfully gleeful ‘I’m in London! I’m in London!’ sort of way.

Somehow, even though the tube station looked like it was only a block or so away from the market, it took perhaps ten minutes of walking for us to emerge on Portobello Road (pictures were taken to mark the event), then another five for us to go round a turn and see a huge market stretching out before us. As we approached the market from Notting Hill Gate, we entered the antiques end of the market, which dominated a third of it, I would guess. The streets are lined with antique shops and home stores, so many of the stalls were outcroppings of the shops themselves. They offered all sorts of high end, high priced antique like things, from genuine prints (these aren’t copies! they’re originals! I was told over and over…) to crystal and silver to authentic, old-fashioned sporting equipment. One man had these great leatherbound chess/backgammon boards that looked like a book until you opened it. Would have been a great gift, if there were pieces inside… So I wandered and wandered, spent lots of time looking over the disappointingly few antiquarian book dealers spread about, and then I found the crepe makers. There was two girls beneath the little tent standing before two huge round stones and a massive mixing bowl filled with batter (just like you see on the Food Network special when Paula Dean goes to Paris! ha.), and they made me a crepe! Nutella and whipped cream goodness. Yum. I wandered down the market and peered at the stalls filled with souvenirs and army paraphanalia and toy soldiers eating my crepe, then emerged on the block or so that the food stalls were set up on. There was the traditional farmers market type stands selling fruit and veg, but also a few stands selling baked goods (delectable looking muffins), all sorts of olives, dried fruit, and gourmet food. That ended rather quickly though, and though I’d intended to buy some produce, I didn’t find any that was a good enough value. Asparagus is so expensive!

After that, the market opened up to what must be a mile of fashion stalls selling clothes and accessories and scarves and bags and shoes galore. I got lost, nearly, in a little branch that looked like it followed a sort of shopping mall. I didn’t nearly go down to the end of it, as it truly seemed neverending, but I saw lots of things I would definitely like to explore, perhaps next Saturday, now that I know it’s there. I’m having a difficult time resisting the purchase of a darling new coat that I know I don’t need. Hopefully, I’ll hang in there, because I really really don’t need another coat, and they’re so bulky when traveling. Sigh. I also have a hard time rectifying myself to the idea of buying clothes without being able to try them on. That seems like such a weird concept to me, especially when some of these clothes are A. really expensive and B. are things that really need to fit well, like strapless dresses. Hm. So, I spent a lot of my time ignoring the clothes and instead browsing accessories. I came across a few pairs of vintage leather gloves that have made me think that I’d definitely like to peruse them a bit more. I like the idea of dainty ladies’ driving gloves on a cold day, though I do wish I could find a cute pair with a lining.

I was in Portobello Road Market for nearly four hours (!) and my feet were sore before I’d even gotten to the end of it! By the time I reached my flat, I just poured myself into bed and slept until mid afternoon. Which was lovely, of course.

The next day, Sunday, I got up really early (7) to meet the girls at eight so that we could go down to the Petticoat Lane Market right after it opened. As it was a bit too far to walk, we took the 205 bus, my first double decker (!), straight down through Whitechapel to the Aldgate East tube station. While it was certainly interesting to ride on a double decker, I don’t think it’s my prefered form of travel. It felt like I was on the Knight Bus, all wobbly and shaky and out of control. /shiver. I didn’t like it very much, but I’m glad for the experience. Maybe I’ll try it again when I’m less cold and fussy. Perhaps After we de-bused, we took a short jaunt to Petticoat Lane (renamed Middlesex by the squiky Victorians) to find that at nearly 9 a.m., they were still setting up. We walked through a bit of it, then I decided that I was hungry and proposed a hunt for breakfast, which took us down into The City and then back out of it, into the market, and finally, to a shop that sold me a lovely chocolate croissant, still warm from the oven. Yum! Then it was back to the market, which sold cheap clothes almost exclusively. I found Nick his Christmas present, almost bought another coat, and then called it quits, hopping onto the Aldgate East tube to Mile End, feeling absolutely miserable. I think I might have contracted a slight form of ‘Fresher’s Flu’, perhaps through a combination of lack of sleep lately, odd diet, odd environment, odd weather, and ill flatmates. After stopping at Budgens to get a few things I knew I could make and eat rather easily, I took a lovely long nap.

The rest of the afternoon was spent doing a bit of homework, HP work, and fanfiction reading, interspersed with nuking my first potato (put it in too long and it turned mushy) in an attempt to make some home fries later that night (didn’t happen), dinner making (ham and eggs), dinner eating, and general laying about.

Today has been rather boring. I had a bit of a lie in, followed by lunch and a few hours of homeworking, followed by blog writing.

Have lovely nights, all! I know I shall do my best!

<3

My feet are killing me. September 26, 2008

Thought you’d like to know, but I can’t see myself getting much sympathy when I tell you where I’ve been. Actually, thinking back and itemizing the list, it doesn’t really seem like I’ve done a lot. But I have. Oh, ho, but I have!

Last night was interesting because I feel asleep reading Oroonoko (oops) and woke up around 7, made dinner, then proceeded to not fall asleep until, oh, 3 a.m. Then I got up at eight to meet the crew at 9 in front of Beaumont. So, on five hours of sleep, more or less, I took the tube down to Westminster and toured Parliament (so worth the 12 pounds! it’s incredible and incredibly beautiful, if only a gothic revival and not as truly medieval as it looks…plus, we had a great tour guide by the name of Beverley). It seemed like we actually saw a lot of the building, too, including the oldest part, the 900 year old Westminster Hall which I think is the oldest still-surviving,m unsupported roof, which means that it’s built kind of like…a Gothic cathedral, without posts or support beams extending from the roof to the ground. Something like that. We also saw the Royal Robing Chamber, the house of lords and the house of commons, and lots of rooms in between. I also have a much better understanding of how Parliament works, which is always a plus. Also got to see a really ugly painting done who knows how long ago by art students of Anne Boleyn. Was informed that all of the portraits in the series were really copies of other famous figures, and the one of Anne resembled a princess in Holland, I believe. Anne Boleyn was supposed to be pretty and dark and stylish! Not…Dutch. Anyway, apparently the unrealistic portraits from that series were the impetus for the creation of the National Portrait Gallery (in which resides a much better portrait of Anne Boleyn).

We finished with our 10:30 tour in time to hear Big Ben tolling the lunch hour, then tubed to Blackfriars to cross the Millenium Bridge to The Globe, as the girls wanted to see if they could get returned tickets for Midsummer Night’s Dream and possibly to see Merry Wives of Windsor. Both are entirely sold out, and we were starving, so didn’t end up waiting for returns. Instead, we wanted down into Southwark (pronounced ’suthick’) and ate at Pret A Manger, which was suprisingly good, then walked back up to the Thames to explore the Tate Modern. I don’t really have much to say about the Tate Modern, aside from the fact that I don’t appreciate most modern work. I like a bit of cubism, a smidgen of surrealism, adore impressionism/post impressionism, but that’s about it. Some of the mixed media bits were interesting, and the sculptures, and I found a smaller gallery that had a lot of cubist drawings and sketches that I really liked, but that was about it. I think I spent almost as much time in their shop as I did in the galleries. They have an incredible shop, by the way, and their books are very reasonably priced in general, and particularly so considering that they are art and photography books, and they have a great, vast collection.

After the Tate Modern, we walked back across the Millenium Bridge, walked up St. Paul’s Hill towards the dominating dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral. I lost the others for a bit while I was looking at my tube map, as I intended to go off wandering a bit by myself while they returned to campus. I ended up going through this beautiful little garden behind St. Paul’s that I didn’t even know was there, despite the fact that I’d been in the area a few times already. People were lounging and eating and talking on the grass lawns and benches, and I just wandered through, snapping photos. I caught up with everyone at St. Paul’s tube station, then we still went our separate ways. I headed off to Covent Garden, which incidently had a very cute tube station before it kind of fell into disrepair. IT would be really lovely if they would fix it back up.

Anyway, I wandered in a big circle around the area, but I was so tired that I really didn’t have the energy or the patience to do much more. I stumbled across Stanford’s which, as their bag declairs, is the largest travel and map shop in the world. Yeah. It was a very cool place, and I wish I’d had the strength and interest to go all over it, but I took just took myself downstairs to the UK/Ireland section, picked out a Great Britain Lonely Planet Guide and a lovely map of the UK (which is now posted on my wall! not so bare anymore!) and headed back home.

And here I am! I’ve stocked up on Cheerios and my fave biscuits of all time, Hobnobs in Dark Chocolate, which are simply, utterly, indescribably delicious. Because they were all on sale, sillies! Not because I intend to gorge myself…

Tonight is cards and dinner with the girls in Liz and Jill’s flat! Should be lovely.

Cheers! (I actually said that in passing today to a Brit!)

Britt

Flatmate giggles September 25, 2008

One of my (male) flatmates is making beer in the kitchen.

/giggle.

It’s fermenting right now. This is the third time he’s done it. And, as he says, hopefully the third time will be the charm. First time was too weak. Second time tasted like white wine. And third time…well, it’s not done yet (which he said as he grimaced after tasting it tonight), but it’s definitely not of the white wine standard.

For some reason, I am exceedingly amused. I think tomorrow, I’ll toss the two waffle irons (I don’t know why we have two…) in a cabinet, move things around on the countertop to get some prep space, and all will be well.

Yeah.

Oh, and we’re still missing our sixth flatmate. Huh.

Last day of classes (just for the week! don’t get in a snit!) September 25, 2008

Hello!

Today was my last day of classes for the week (four day weekend! hells yeah!). That was very Ally Dunaj of me. Anyway. Before I tell you about today, I’ll tell you about yesterday. I’m a big believer in chronological order.

Wednesday

I experienced my first rainy London day today. It was cold and gray and blustery all morning.The day started earlier than I would have liked, as Wednesday is the day that CCRS comes in and cleans my bathroom and vacuums my carpet. Usually, they arrive in the flat around 9. Today, it was more like 8:45. They clean the kitchen first, and as my flat mates and I generally don’t put the dish rack away at night (erm, since the dishes are drying on it and mold is bad?), they going banging about for long enough to wake me up. Good news is that I really don’t need an alarm clock, as they’re so reliable. I had my history class’s lecture this morning at 10 followed by the seminar at 11. My professor is a funny little British man who came to class wearing butter yellow chinos, a plaid shirt, and a cream colored blazer. He reminded me a bit of…what’s his name, my Aunt Ellen’s brother in law? Yeah, that one. Although, my professor just looked like a doddering professor. Much less chic. And doddering professor he is, though he does have a bit of that British humor and is a genuinely nice guy. However, when he talks, he doesn’t move his jaw. Rather, he talks through his teeth, which, combined with his accent, makes it somewhat difficult to understand him when I don’t recognize the words he’s saying (like names I don’t know, etc.).

The class–English Society, 1580-1720–should be interesting, though I wish it focused a bit more on the aristocracy since I’m so obsessed with them. We have to complete a solo class presentation, as well, which I was not expecting. He went through the whole ‘now, don’t look at your papers while you’re reading’ bit, then said that the Associate students generally don’t have a problem with presentations (nor do we have a problem with citations, apparently.), so I suppose it will be alright. Presentations have been drilled in my head since…hmm…grade school. I’ve been doing them forever, and even though I despise them, I like having the research to do and I generally do pretty well on them, PS1 not included. The seminar for the class was held in this bizarre little basement room in the physics building. Very sketchy, as there are no signs. I went exploring before class to see if I could find it, and luckily interpreted the name of the room correctly. ‘G’ here (as in G02) generally means ‘ground’, so the floor you walk into from the street is the ground floor, next floor up is the first floor, etc. The room I was seeking out was LG07. Hmm, I thought, what do these crazy Brits mean when they say ‘LG’. Lower Ground? me thinks? So I take the stairs to the basement, find concrete floor, no lights turned on, and bunches of filing cabinets. But hark, just across the way is a door leading possibly to a corridor with carpeting. Could it be?

Indeed it was, though there wasn’t any carpeting. My class was on the lower ground level, much nicer than saying ‘basement’, eh?

This week has been interesting because the geography building, where a lot of seminar rooms and a big lecture hall are, mysteriously closed. My history professor let slip that it was because they’d found asbestos and had to…fix it… So, needless to say, most of the building is closed off and classes had to be moved, which means that there’s been a lot of confusion, a lot of delays, and lots of corridors crowded with confused professors and students.

After class, I had a spot of lunch (PB&J with crisps and grapes) then went off to the post office to pick up a package (containing my amazon-ordered adaptors! yay!). The local post office is in Whitechapel, which is…maybe ten, fifteen minutes down Mile End Road heading towards The City. It’s lucky that I always carry an umbrella in my bag, because as soon as I got downstairs, it started to rain. So I walked merrily through the rain/drizzle to the post office, retrieved my adaptors, then fought my way through the masses of people gathered at the stalls of the Whitechapel Market (lots of Bangladeshi things, fruit and veg, smelly fish, bollywood films and music, clothing, etc. all in the rain…) to get to Whitechapel Station. I then tubed to Mile End, changed trains, and then went to Stratford. It’s odd, how different some Londoners are from each other. One on the tube as we were stopped at Mile End said to another man, who had just come running down the stairs to the platform, poked his head in the car I was in, and asked what line it was, said to the poor guy like he was an idiot, It’s on the front of the train. Helpful, yeah? Another woman, an elderly lady who was sitting down on the packed 25 bus heading back towards school, was merrily joining in the conversation with two other high school-aged girls, talking about smelly boys. It was quite a lovely sight.

Anyway, I ended up wandering into the bookstore then wandering back out, then wandering into Wilkinsons and purchasing school supplies, then ambling cross the road to the bus to come home. I ran into Liz coming out of Wilkinsons, and we made plans to get together for dinner and cards at 6:30 that night. Earlier this week, I’d bought a pack of four chicken breasts with the skin on to roast. I hated buying four just for me, but they didn’t sell packs of two for some reason. Anyway, I ended up roasting all four, and boy, was that an interesting experience! Before I decided to go ahead and do it, I googled UK roasting recipes to check on times. Nobody does it the way my mom does it, though, so I went ahead and did my own thing… The oven is an entirely stupid appliance and took ages to preheat on one setting, to I changed it to another, which unfortunatly nearly burnt the skin of my poor chicken breasts in under five minutes. So I changed back to the first setting, preheating be damned, covered the poor chickies with tin foil to save the skin, and cooked them for another thirty minutes, checking them every so often to make sure I wasn’t going to be bombarded with smoke. I wasn’t, luckily, and thirty minutes later, I sliced them open to find them cooked through and juicy, tossed ‘em back in to crisp up the skin again, then pulled em out, wrapped one up, and took my lovely meal over to Liz’s flat. There, we ate dinner (she ate soup) and talked with her lovely flatmate Sushi (might be butchering her name, but that’s what it sounds like!) for awhile, and then on our own bitching about the oddness of QM appliances, then I headed back, showered, and poured myself into bed.

Thursday (i.e. today)

Today dawned bright and sunny! I was up early so I could go to the library/bookstore and nab all the books I’ll need for the next 6 weeks. They were having a buy 3 for 2 sale at the bookstore, so I ended up getting Charlotte Bronte’s Villette, which I’ve never read before and which isn’t on my reading lists (insert big grin), as my free book, as I didn’t want nor don’t need another copy of Pride and Prejudice, Persuasion, or Jane Eyre.

My trip being successful and my wandering of the humanities section of the library stacks being fulfilling (very easy to navigate, or maybe I just happened to ramble the right way. who knows?), I dashed back to my room to toss down my new books then dashed back to the Arts Building for my last lecture and seminar of the week, an English class called Representing London. It sounds very interesting and will definitely be a great means of understanding the city. We’ll be reading and seeing a lot of different media; excerpts from the diaries and letters of travelers, novels (Fanny Burney’s Evelina!!), paintings, maps, legislation, etc. It sounds fascinating, and the hour long lecture in the rather nice Arts Lecture Theatre went quickly. There was a slight room mix-up for our seminar, though I’m not sure exactly who was right and who was wrong. I think we were, but we moved anyway. Anyway, since my seminar tutor isn’t here this week (in Sardinia for some reason), my professor led the seminar, which was quite nice as I think I’d like to get to know him a bit more. We went around the circle of desks and introduced ourselves. I was sitting to the nicest British girl (who is also from Essex/East London, but I had no difficulty understanding her….) by the name of Alicia. Brits pronounce it so much nicer than we do, though. It was Alice-ee-ah rather than A-leash-ah. I rather like the name now. Quite a revelaton

After we had a few minutes of discussion about cities, the professor handed out pieces of a map (a HUGE map) to all of us and we spent the rest of the time putting it together, puzzle-like, and tacking it up on the wall. It was quite fun, and made me really envious. I want a huge map of London, too!

And now, here I am! I had my lunch (chicken sandwich with two little Gala apples), read some fanfic, conversed with lovely Catherine, checked postage rates on postcards (about 50p! Woo!), and wrote to you!

Have lovely days, all!

<3

First Day of Classes September 23, 2008

Everybody’s been going on and on about my not having started classes yet.

Well, now I have. I’ve started two of them, thank very much, and it was a rather stressful day. It started with me rousing myself from bed at 8:45, checking my English schedule online once more to make sure I’d written it down correctly, and discovering that in the past 12 hours, they’d changed it. For some reason, not quite sure what it is, my seminar for my Narrative Fiction class was moved from 11 a.m. to 12 noon, and put in a classroom all the way across campus. That wouldn’t be a problem if I didn’t have a 1 o’clock class right after that seminar, with no passing time alotted. Crazy Brits. So I threw on clothes and made myself decent, then ran down to the English department’s office to have a chat with Jenny, the woman I’d already seen about fixing my class schedule Friday morning. But Jenny wasn’t in. Lovely. So I went off trying to figure out where this new seminar classroom was (it’s in the computer science building, but no, I didn’t manage to find it on that excursion). The buildings at QM are a mess. They’re like mazes, confusing as hell, and you have to swipe into some areas, but for some reason, my card has selective swiping. Even to get out of a building. Weird, no?

Anyway, after twenty minutes of searching, I gave up and went to the big lecture hall where the lecture for Narrative Fiction was being held. I really liked the lecturer, and I think the class will be great and I love the reading list, but that lecture had nearly 200 students in it. It as so bizarre, being in such a large room with so many people. I’ve never had a lecture with more than 25 students in it before, and it was unsettling. Hopefully I’ll get over it next week.

After that, I had an hour off between the lecture and the seminar, so I went back to my flat to make some toast. Except, when I opened the bag of bread, the loaf was covered in mold. How that happened in a dry, cool cabinet in 24 hours, I don’t know, but I was rather angry and quite pleased that flatmates took one look at my face and just sort of nodded and left me alone. Good boys.

Since I hadn’t had any luck finding the Comp Sci room earlier, I left for class a half hour before it started. I went to the Computer Science building, read the sign that directed me to a Bancroft Rd. entrance. Went round to Bancroft Road and entered the Chemistry and Biological Sciences building since the other feasible doors seemed locked. Hurried the the third floor reception and was told that I just had to go round the corner from the Computer Science building, dear. Right. Round the corner. I went back to the computer science building, read the sign several more times, then went next door to the student union, where other people from my class had congregated and were pestering receptionists at the SU for directions. SU had no idea; we told them about the sign, and they told us to go round to the other entrance to the SU on Bancroft Rd. So we did, and by that time, there was a sign posted on the door directing us to take the lift to the third floor. Waited ages for the lift to come (stairs were apparently out of commission, barracaded with red tape…hm), piled in, road it up, and met lovely seminar tutor, Alice, who is studying for her PhD at QM. She received her masters from Oxford.Nice.

Alice was really sweet and and very interested and excited to be back at QM and leading our small (14 students!), discussion based seminar class. We did a very not-awkward icebreaker where we introduced another person in the class, told their favorite book and why they were doing English, etc. I’m the only American in the seminar, but the girl I was working with is from Essex, and I could barely understand her accent. The next forty minutes or so floated by quickly, and before we knew it, it was 1:00 and another professor had stuck his head in the door and rudely informed us that he was meant to be starting his own class at that moment, thanks very much.

I don’t understand why they don’t build a passing time into the schedule. One class ends at 1p.m., the next class starts at 1 p.m. That’s not feasible. Professors have to end the class, students have to pack up and leave, the next class has to come in and get settled. Not. Possible.

Anyway, as my next class was starting at 1p.m. and it was five past by the time I left, I walked very very quickly across campus to the Arts Building, meeting my tutor Alice on the way inside (need to find out which shortcut she used, btw.) and chatted with her as we walked up to the third floor. I entered my class ten minutes late, which was very embarrassing as I hate being late to class and, in fact, never arrive to class late, ever. This being the exception, I suppose, though it’s not like I can help it. Do you know, even when I fell on the hill leading up to Ryland last winter and cut open my knee, I was right on time for Latin, 15 minutes later? Yup. I was. You know why? Because I rock, that’s why, and I’m a good student, and being on time is one of those things that makes professors like you. I’m a very likeable student. Plus, had I not gone to class and distracted myself from my wound, I probably would have had a panic attack. So yeah, I went to class.

Back to London. Settled into my Northern Epic and Myth class and I found it quite enjoyable, even though we were only doing intro stuff. What I did not find enjoyable, however, was the presence of around half the class of 15 who obviously did not want to be there. It was so annoying, so incredibly annoying. Erg. The Professor sort of reminded me of Dr. Givens, though I don’t think he knows as much as Dr. Givens. I don’t think anyone knows as much as Givens, come to think of it. But he had that really professorial air to him, which was nice, and he, being British, had the accent, but it was nice and light. Good two hours there!

And that was the end of my learning experience. At 3:00, I returned to my flat where I’ve been sequestered in my room ever since, reading fanfic, relaxing, munching on delectable grapes, and looking up various things to do. Parents will be glad to know that while I was very close to buying tickets to three different ballets in London and one in the US, I decided not to do so. At least not right now. I am thinking of going to Brighton though, during reading week. I’ve been looking up quaint B&Bs and am looking forward to spending a few days in this posh little sea resort town with excellent shopping (or so I hear). Oh, and I think I might go see Parliament/Westminster Palace on Friday, as the summer opening ends this saturday and I won’t be able to tour it after that.

Cheers!

Britt

PS–I’m rather proud of this constant stream I’ve been able to keep up! I don’t know if you find it interesting or not, but I imagine I’ll like having a record of every little thing I’ve done here once I become old and grey. Or when I get back.

PPS–forgot to tell you that I bought more bread. We’ll see how long this loaf lasts. OH! And the man behind the cash register (till, as they said in Sainsbury’s the other day) asked me if I wanted help going through all of my coins! IT didn’t take me that long, but he was really nice about it and kind of joking, you know, ‘takes a long time to figure out’ and all that. Smiley man. And did you know, M&Ms are fairly expensive here? How sad, for I have a craving, although that’s alleviated slightly by my delicious white seedless grapes and my super delic cookies. I won’t call them biscuits. They’re cookies, dammit! With a layer of dark chocolate… oo yum.

(time for dinner–pasta with cottage cheese. going to try roasting chicken tomorrow, me thinks)

Update central September 22, 2008

Hello lovelies!

Yesterday, I was very naughty. I was lazy, all day long. I didn’t even go outside. I did make my bed and dinner, however, the latter with surprising success and delicious results, no smoke/fire hazard involved. Although I did manage to spill rice all over the carpet in my room. Huh. Still not sure how that happened, but I think it was the universe spiting me for cooking a decent meal. Mhmm, that’s definitely it.

Today has been much more productive. I got up early to the sounds of CCRS (cleaning service). I know I should be grateful to have someone cleaning my living area, and I am, it’s just that they’re really very loud, and they come every single day (except weekends, so far…), which means that 9 a.m. is the beginning of banging and vacuuming. Plus, the manner in which they cleaned my bathroom and left my door unlocked last week was highly unsatisfactory. If it happens again this week, I will be reporting it and asking to clean my own bathroom. (who would have thought?)

After grumbling about CCRS, I headed over to the Arts Building, which is where a great number of the humanities departments are located, including English and History. I had to see the woman in charge of module registration in the English Department because just last night, I noticed that I had a conflict and needed to change to a different seminar group. She said it wouldn’t be a problem, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she’s right! My four classes, as it stands right now, are Northern Myth and Epic, Representing London, Narrative Fiction, and English Society, all of which I am very excited about for various reasons, but they all have something to do with my various interest areas and in one class, I get to read Evelina by Fanny Burney, which I borrowed from the library last semester at UR but never had a chance to read! I’m quite excited. Plus, there are a few books I read in high school that I look forward to rereading and analyzing in more depth.

After that, I returned to my lovely flat, happy that dull gray skies had turned blue again, and made brunch (lots of buttered toast and hot chocolate) before meeting Liz and Missy (the aforementioned Melissa) to tube down to The Globe to purchase tickets for A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Merry Wives of Windsor. We got out at Blackfriars Station and walked over the Blackfriars Bridge to cross the Thames, then took the River Walk East a bit towards the Tate Modern and The Globe. The Box Office was a bit difficult to locate, as their was only one sign for it which just pointed in the general direction. It ended up being down the block and round the corner… But I found it! Woot! Turns out, however, that despite seeing tickets available for the 2 p.m. performance of Midsummer this Friday online last night, the entire run is completely sold out, including all 700 standing tickets in the Yard. Disappointing for everyone else, I suppose, but I still got my ticket to see The Merry Wives of Windsor on Oct. 3rd (for five pounds!) and I’ve seen Midsummer so many times already, not to mention the countless times I’ve read it. I think it’ll be a few more years before I desire to see it again. And I’ve never seen or read Merry Wives, though I’ve heard a few hilarious monologues from it, so I’m quite excited. It might end up being a solo theater adventure, too, and my first into central London, so I’m quite excited. And it’s during the day, Dad, so don’t worry! I’ll be fine!

The three of us ended up walking across Millennium Bridge (Westminster Bridge has a better view, for what it’s worth) and going to the Bank of England Museum, which was interesting. It made me understand the coinage much better than I currently do, so I think I’ll probably empty out my change tonight and figure it all out. Must become a pro, one of these days, you know! We were able to see the coin collection, too, though I didn’t see the promised gold bar that you can pick up. Hm. Anyway, they’re having caroling there the first week of December, so perhaps I’ll go back for a bit of holiday cheer and gold hunting.

That’s all for now! I encourage you to check out my pictures on the shutterfly site, because you know how I love to take pictures! There’s lots up now! Plus, photos from Italy are up, too! Woo! Go look!

Cheers,

Britt

Not about London, but I need to write it down September 21, 2008

Hey guys,

This is a brief pause from my tales about London. This is a note about back home, actually. A note about Mo. I’ve just reconnected with Lyss, who purchased him when decided to stop riding about three/four years ago. I haven’t seen her or him for…awhile, but we were fairly close when we used to ride together at the same barn. She’s like a little sister

Anyway, the note isn’t really a smiley note. When we first talked, she told me she had and I quote “bad news”, which, after what happened when I sold Lexi, made me think immediatly, oh my God, please let him still be alive. He is, but he’s injured, and he’s not really getting better. She promised to keep me posted, which I’m sure she will, and I know that she is just as upset–likely much, much more–than I am, but it makes me think… if I hadn’t sold my horse, where would they be now? Would Lexi still be alive and kicking (Maybe she still is. Doubtful.). Would Mo be injured? I hate to think it, but my horses never had serious injuries while I owned them. Yes, Mo was stupid and ripped open his eyelid while scratching his head against a post. And I think he had an abscess, once. But nothing more than that that I recall.

Just makes me think, and thinking isn’t good for someone who needs to go to bed. So I’m writing it here.

Love to you all, and much love to Lyssy and my Mojo.

Pictoral note September 21, 2008

So, I’ve been thinking up the best way to put my photos online, and I am currently testing one out. I’ve set up a page on Shutterfly.com with some of my photos, so if you wouldn’t mind popping over and letting me know what you think, that would be grand.

Also, I wouldn’t recommend RSSing the new site… it gives you a few of all of my individual photos, and I think that’s a pain, personally, but to each her own.

Site addy is: http://inkblotsandsnapshots.shutterfly.com

<3

A theatrical note September 21, 2008

Right now, instead of working on my GG column, I’m booking myself a ticket to see one of the last performances of The Merry Wives of Windsor at The Globe in London. I have to register on the site to order my ticket (so British–in the Yard, standing for the entire performance!), and the first box is for your title. Here are the options:

Mr., Mrs., Miss, Ms….Dr., Sir, Lord, Lady, Dame, Prof., Air Commodore, Baroness, Brigadier, Commodore, Capt., Canon, Colonel, Count, Countess, Judge, Lt., Madame, Marquess, Prince, Princess, Rev., Bishop, Duke, Viscount, Viscountess.

I am so tempted to give myself the title I’ve always wanted, but the real question is… Lady, Baroness? Countess, Marquess, or Viscountess? Dame sounds stuffy, Princess is reaching… I think the alliteration with Baroness is a bit much. I’ve always liked the sound of Marquess, though. Anne Boleyn was made Marquess. Not that I plan on changing the religion of England and beheading people who don’t agree with me. Or marrying the king. Or having my own head cut off. Or anything silly like that. Of course not!

Comedy of Errors September 20, 2008

Hello lovelies!

Here’s a rundown of what I’ve been up to here in merry old England (and with this gorgeous weather, it is very merry, let me tell you!):

Friday

Today was probably the most free time I’ve had so far, and that stretched from all morning (well, this bits of it that I kind of slept through while the maids were banging about and vacuuming) to 3:15. After a long, lazy late morning spent doing nothing on the computer, I ate lunch (yummy sandwich toasted in the microwave with butter, English chedder, and ham that doesn’t taste like ham = odd) then went out to the Co-Op armed with my reusable Co-Op bag (how Green am I, eh?) to purchase a few things. Chicken is really expensive over here! And I’m still not sure if I got the kind of chicken that I wanted (e.g. chicken with the skin on) because I haven’t made it yet and it doesn’t say on the package. It kinda looks like it might have skin though, so maybe I’ll be able to roast it. Hopefully. Bought some garlic and potatoes too, so atleast I can roast something!

At 3:15, I met up with Jill, Elizabeth, and Liz, and we walked merrily in the sunshine down to Genesis Theatre, home of the smallest ‘big screen’ I’ve ever seen. It’s three chairs wide. Seriously. And the theater had a funky smell about it. Anyway, we saw The Duchess which was good, not great, but it made me laugh and it made me cry. It’s quite tragic and definitely tells a very odd story, but it has funny moments and really endearing moments, and I thought Keira Knightly was lovely in it. She had a big angry moment (um, period), which I haven’t seen her do yet, which was nice. And I am so envious of her costumes! :drool: Gorgeousness! I think it’s the story that made it just okay for me. I mean, I know it didn’t actually end happily ever after, which obviously would have made it great (er, very JAusten-like), but it was just…the husband/wife/mistress relationship portrayed was so hard to wrap your head around because it’s so hurtful for so many reasons, and so unfair, yet you understood why the women stood for it, and the solidarity between the two at the end was just wonderful. That’s what made me cry. It’s tragic, but it’s kind of a hopeful tragedy? As in, this bad thing really happened, and there was nothing I could do to stop it or change it, but it was still okay. I was still okay. That sort of thing.

After the movie ended and I mopped up my tears, we walked down to Whitechapel (home of Jack the Ripper!) to go to The Blind Beggar, a pub which apparently (According to our tour guide, anyway) was the scene of a mafia-esque shooting, which is notable in London because it’s so hard to get a gun. They weren’t serving dinner, so we went to…Hayfields? Which is one of the Scream chain of pubs that are really cheaply priced and targeted towards students. The atmosphere was great, the food was good, and the company was superb There was an American woman behind the bar, which made Elizabeth and Jill feel comfortable enough to split a pint of beer (which neither of them enjoyed. Their expressions of disgust were hysterical). I am in love with chips, largely because they are cut so chunkily and are all potatoe-y goodness. Love ‘em!

After sitting in the pub and chatting for around two hours, the four of us walked back down Mile End Road, stopped into a convenience store (really nice Middle Eastern guy behind the counter, too! I would seriously go back because he was so nice) and picked up a pack of playing cards (and I got some q-tips, called cotton buds here, as I had been looking for them everywhere). We returned to Jill and Elizabeth’s flat, played 500 and munched on biscuits for a few more hours, then retired.

Saturday

Today was such a blast! We met outside of Beaumont Hall around 10 a.m. and then walked down to Mile End Station to catch a District line train to Putney Bridge, which is way on the west side of London, across the Thames. This weekend is Open House London weekend, so I planned our day going from point to point to check out a few buildings that are open to the public for tours and whatnot, absolutely free aside from transport costs. Our first stop was Hurlingham Club, a gorgeous private Georgian mansion turned gentlemen’s club in the mid 19th Century. It took us so long to catch the appropriate District line train that we ended up getting there late, but we were very lucky to arrive at the gate and find the tour group not far away.

The grounds were exquisite, quite possibly the finest I have ever seen. They’re sitting on over 40 acres of land, all of it beautifully kept trees and gardens and cricket pitches and tennis courts and rolling lawns. They had huge roses growing all over, the lawns were manicured (the cricket pitches are mowed daily). /sigh. The house itself was lovely, but the lands just made me think ‘my god, these people are so lucky to be here.’ And of course, the day was perfect, blue skies with no threat of rain and full sun, thus making it seem even more magical. This club has a ten year long waiting list and I think around 13,000 members, although that seems really very high. Oh, and, this was the only day all year that you can tour it. How sweet is that?

After Hurlingham, we ate lunch at this wonderful cafe owned (I think?) by a French man. I can’t tell you the name because the awning was kind of scattered with them, and I wasn’t sure which was which. I had a Monte Cristo which was DELICIOUS. Possibly one of the best things I’ve eaten since I’ve been here. And I would totally take the 20 min/half hour tube ride to Putney Bridge just for another sandwich. And it was reasonablly priced; 3ish pounds, so just under 6 USD. Yum.

We ate pretty quickly so that we could hop on the train and make it to Lambeth Palace (home of the Archbishop of Canterbury), but apparently, over 200 people had the same idea, as we arrived to a massive line and an accompanying two hour wait. So we quickly ditched that idea and hiked our way across Westminster Bridge, stopping for some photos of Parliament and Big Ben, of course, and then walked along the Thames River Path to Somerset House. The walk was probably a highlight of the day for me, right after Hurlingham Club, because of the beautiful weather. There was a cool breeze coming off the river, the sun was shining, there were lots of people milling about but it didn’t feel overcrowded. It was just nice. It lended that sense of sharing something incredibly enjoyable with tons of people. We walked past Cleopatra’s Needle and a war memorable where a priest was conducting a prayer before a group of people. Then, we arrived at Somerset House (where Jill later learned that The Duchess was filmed! Eeh!) We quickly found out from the nice receptionist lady that the tours for the day were completely booked, even though they had regular tours for the next four hours, as people had started booking places at 10:30 that morning, so we were like ’screw this’ and headed back out into London to continue our walk.

And that was lots of fun. We must have walked at least three miles and my feet were killing me by the time we got back to campus, but we had a blast and saw so many great things. We walked down the Strand after leaving Somerset House (and taking a few photos, of course), then headed down Fleet Street (which is very respectable now, I’ll have you know). We passed The Royal Courts of Justice, St. Paul’s Cathedral (went inside briefly, but we’ll definitely have to go back. I didn’t have the strength to climb all those stairs up to the dome, which I simply must do before I leave), and five Starbucks (we stopped in the last one and sat next to a very smoochy French couple. So very stereotypical) before we reached the Vintner’s Hall. We toured that along with lots of other people, and it was quite cool. It’s the guild hall for the winemaker’s guild, which has been around since 13thC I think. The building was 17thC (rebuilt after the fire, I believe), and was exquisitly paneled and decorated with dark wood. They had lots of wine memorabilia, like two cases of old wine labels (silver of pewter; not at all like wine labels today), and they had guild charters and deeds dating to the 14thC, as well as ceremonial things like shields of the masters and the hearse cover that dated back to the 1500s. Everything was incredible, but I really wish they would have had translations of the scripted Latin charters so I could have read them. My Latin is quite that good

That was the last stop (thankfully) on our tour. We were quite worn out, though thoroughly pleased with ourselves by the time we caught our train at the nearby Monument Station, changed at Tower Hill, and made it back to Mile End. We returned to our rooms for a few hours before meeting up again in Elizabeth’s kitchen for yummy veg pizza (don’t worry, I took most of them off my slice) and playing cards again (Gold, tried to work out Hearts, and 500).

And now I’m here, writing to you!

Time for me to turn in, I think. Tomorrow will be a slower-paced day, as I’ve things to do for hangPROUD (like write my column for the week…) and I should get a start on my course books.

<3 always!

Britt