Brighton! November 17, 2008

So, Saturday, I did in fact go to Brighton on about three hours of sleep, which hopefully did marvelous things for my sleep schedule. Anyway, I was officially ‘up’ at 6 a.m., out the door by 6:45, on the tube by 7, and at Victoria Coach Station by 7:30 to catch my 8:00 coach to Brighton! We arrived by ten after ten following a lovely tour through the south of England and through some of the more quaint suburbs of London.

I have to say, Brighton isn’t what I thought it would be, given its reputation as a popular seaside town. I thought it would be more along the lines of Charleston or Cape May or what I remember of Atlantic/Neptune Beach. But it was rather dingy and dirty feeling. I know it’s difficult to keep buildings looking nice when they are constantly battered by sea air and wind and salt and everything, but it wasn’t really bright and colorful or happy-looking. It certainly wasn’t a place I would look forward to as a summer destination.

As soon as I got off the bus, I almost ran down the street to the boardwalk, the pier, and the ocean. Brighton has some really lovely ocean views, just a straight stretch, and even though it was cloudy and dull out, the sea looked wonderful. The Brighton Pier, where they have food and fair-esque type activities and rides, was off to my right. I wandered a little ways down it, but didn’t really go in, since it was kind of deserted and a tad bit sketchy. Instead, I turned and walked towards the city center, up to the Pavilion Gardens for a tour of George IV’s Royal Pavilion. It was a royal palace in use until Queen Victoria sold it to the town of  Brighton and Hove, and the town has been using it and restoring it ever since. The Royal Pavilion is exquisite, very lavishly decorated. It is done in a western translation of eastern style, with lots of turnip shaped minarets and stuccoed exterior walls. The interior is truly a sight to behold. Georgey definitely outdid himself. The first room that you go into is definitely in a Chinese style, but the second room knocks your socks off. There is a huge light fixture overhead done in the style of a painted paper lantern, and the trim is painted and sculpted to look like bamboo. There are artifacts everywhere, and the wall paper is beautiful. After that, you go into the Banquet Room, which is a site to behold. It’s incredible. The motif here and later in the Music Room is dragons, and they are everywhere. It’s the central chandelier, extended over the long table, that takes the cake, though. At the pinnacle is a dragon that crouches over the entire thing, neck stretched and tongue flickering down at those below. IT holds the chandelier in its claws, and their are spike-like panes of glass (I think?) and knots of crystals that lead down to the base of the fixture. All of the old oil lamps would have been encased by lotus flowers, which were all held in the mouths of smaller metal dragons. The oil lamps would have made it seem as though the dragons were breathing fire into the flowers. All around the room were these dragons and lotus flowers. It was incredible, and I can hardly do a minute part of it justice.

From there, we went into the HUGE kitchen. George served massive diners–one had 36 entrees alone–and always had guests. Then, we went into the galleries that led to the music room, which is this HUGE, circular room with a domed ceiling. The ceiling is covered in gilded cockle shells, all of which look slightly pearlescent mint green in the lighting. The dragons are continued here along with snakes, there’s an organ against the far wall, a fireplace on another…just, wow. I really must try to find some pictures to show you. We were able to go upstairs after that, to see George’s bedroom and Victoria’s bedroom, plus the small library. After that, the tour of the Royal Pavilion quickly returned downstairs to the gift shop, which had utter crap postcards. Truly. I don’t know what they were thinking. I don’t have an issue with not being able to take pictures inside somewhere, but I like to get postcards so that I can remember what things looked like. /sigh

After I exited into the Royal Pavilion garden, which is much more modern park-like at the moment, given that the flowers aren’t blooming and things are starting to hibernate for the winter/die. I went out on the main drag, North Street, admired the unlit Christmas lights that cross the broad Regency street, walked up a block and turned onto Bond Street, which is the beginning of the North Laines, a quirky shopping area filled with dozens of independent shops. I hunted down a bagel place that I’d read about online and went back to the park to eat the BEST bagel I’ve had since I’ve been here. Truly, it was divine. I also shared a little bite with a poor footless pigeon (I so wanted to say penguin there!) that sort of sadly limped over to me and just gazed up with these beady little pigeon eyes. So I tossed it some bread with cream cheese..and..ha…it ate it of course, but when it turned back around to gaze at me again, it had cream cheese all over it’s beak! It was so funny. I must have looked rather silly, sitting on a bench by myself laughing at pigeon.Yeah.

Moving on. After I quickly polished off my delectable lunch, I walked back up to Bond Street and spent the next few hours shopping! I haven’t really done any shopping at all, so this was quite a bit of fun. There were two shops in particular that I adored. The first, Velvet, has two locations a few doors down from each other. One is also home furnishings, the other is a weird mix of decor, knick knacks, gifts, and clothing/shoes/bags for the younger set. I bought the sweetest journal from a UK company called Disaster Designs. It’s covered in fabric, with little appliqued girls and a balloon and a butterfly and embroidery which reads: ‘mes petits secrets’. It’s really adorable, and everyone must see it. The outside that is, not the inside. That’s where I intend to write my secrets. Not that I have very many, but still. Just in case. Actually, I shared the first secret I wrote down with Mom before I even wrote it. Sigh. I am a hopeless personal secret keeper. I keep other people’s secrets really well though! Maybe I should write other people’s secrets in it. Haha. That would be really amusing to read in 20 years, I bet.

The second store that I loved is one that I read about online, called Lavender Room. It’s this beautiful little boutique with gorgeous lingerie that I so coveted, some pretty clutches, clothing, accessories, shoes, beautiful cotton robes, fab cotton undies that were really overpriced (even the ladies intending to buy things thought so. I eavesdropped.), and fun flannel pjs. And socks! I bought a pair of the loveliest, softest, warmest socks. They are handknit woolen angora mix sockies that come up to my knees, and they are striped in a slate color and an eggplant color. I loves them. Perfect for when I’m doing work in my pjs and my tootsies get chilled. Those were my proud purchases of the day. I almost bought a sweater, but ten minutes of waiting for a dressing room to open up made me put it back on the rack and leave. I’m so patient Then I walked up up up the streets and ventured into side streets and whatnot, admiring the outdoor cafes and the christmas lights (globes suspended on strands of lights criss crossed all of the streets! I wish I could have seen them illuminated). It was also a great opportunity to people watch. Brighton is pretty much the capital of Gay/Lesbian life in Britain, so there were some interesting characters and ensembles walking the streets. Plus, it’s a fairly artsy place, at least in certain parts. Some of the graffiti on the sides of shops was incredible. I wish I wouldn’t have stifled the urge to pull out my camera and snap a few shots of it.

After I’d seen all of the North Laines (um, twice), I crossed over North Street to see the shopping options on The Lanes, which offers an interesting mix of high street/upmarket shops (like The Gap and Next and Monsoon and things you see on Oxford Street and Regent Street) and designer thingies (Prada! Gucci!). There were also a ton of jewelry stores. Loads. And a little Baptist Church that was having a fair trade market that ended up being very small. But I went through it all, yes I did, and after that, I walked way way way up the big hill, walked down by the sea shore, and then walked all the way back up to Brighton Pier. Then, I looped back around to North Street and went to the chocolatier/patisserie that I spied on my first trip down it and indulged in a lovely slice of chocolate fudge cake. Yum. I spent my remaining time in the Pavilion Gardens, on the phone chatting with the family, before I had to catch my coach back. Just about as soon as we pulled out of the station, I passed out, and remained out until we crossed the bridge over the Thames and went flying through west/central London back to Victoria. It was a bumpy ride.

edited to show you a picture of my journal!

cute, no?

Announcements November 15, 2008

1. I’m going to BRIGHTON today! And I am so excited! I am attributing my sleeplessness foolishly to a Christmas morning-like anticipation. Really, it’s more to do with my completely screwed up sleeping schedule. But BRIGHTON!

2. I am very disappointed by how infrequently some (cough/most) people update their blogs. I have voyeuristic blog tendencies, and am thus disappointed. I’ve also noticed that I am using ‘thus’ a lot in my papers. Counted in three times in one paragraph before I caught myself and made some replacements. I like how official it sounds, how authoritative and mature and uppercrust-like. Anyway, back to blogs. Update your blogs or forget your life! That’s my mantra.

3. I think my entire flat is awake. It’s Tim’s birthday today, and one of his friends just came by and rang the bell. All the way from across London. At 5 in the morning. And Xavier is doing god knows what, likely with his girlfriend.

4. The keg is hopefully gone! They were standing outside hours ago yelling, ‘free shot! free tibet!’ Not sure how effective that was, but they were drinking for awhile, so hopefully it’s all delightfully GONE!

That’s it for now. But it is five in the morning. 5:26, actually. So don’t be surprised if I come back with something equally nonsensical.

Life is just a bowl of cherries November 13, 2008

Don’t take it serious. Life’s too…mysterious… / Fosse

So, life. Or something like it. Let’s see how many cultural references I can include in this post that promises to be epic. I’ve been up to a great many things lately, few of which I’ve imparted to you. Sadness, I know, but I’ll give it a go (rhyme!).

Saturday 8 November

Today, I took a day trip with Jill, Missy, and 13 other people from Queen Mary on a chartered Dorset Tour that took us to Stonehenge, Salisbury, and the New Forest. I woke up early, made myself lunch, and headed to the meeting place–Queen’s Building–happily walking under blue skies. That didn’t last long, for as soon as our tour guide Steve showed up in the zebra-striped mini-bus, 15 minutes late, the clouds were rolling in and he was asking us if we knew how to get out of London from the East End. Um, negative. We ended up driving down to the Billingsgate Fish Market, and then I guess that plan went down the tubes, because we headed back up to Whitechapel, into The City, across London Bridge, down into Southwick (past the Cathedral, which is beautiful!) to sketchy Elephant and Castle, and then did a nice tour of South London, from the East all the way west through the beautiful suburbs of Richmond, then up through Ealing and finally onto the M3. Or M4. One of the two.

It began to rain when we got onto the highway, letting up thankfully when we got to the service station, which very much resembled a US rest stop, though perhaps cleaner and sans Starbucks. Then it was back on the road and down to Wessex, and on to Stonehenge. It’s such an odd site. You can see it from the highway; just this huge circle of massive rocks. We entered the National Heritage Site, paid for our entrance, and, audio tour in one hand and camera in the other (made for interesting finagling as we took pictures and listened), walked up the hill to Stone Henge.

I wish I could say that I felt an earthly power radiating from the stones, but I didn’t. Not that I was disappointed, mind you, it was just something I had in the back of my mind. The site really is awe-inspiring. I’ve heard people say that it’s really not worth the trip out there, that it isn’t that great, but I thought it was incredible to see these majestic stones, some of which were hauled hundreds of miles in the days before the wheel, and then hear about how the people of the time probably constructed the circle. The history is incredible, knowing that so long ago, people created this perfect circle that told time, piecing the stones together using primitive (but obviously effective) building techniques.

I found a bit of humor in the site, too, largely because this wonder of the world is surrounded by thousands of grazing sheep that the National Heritage Site workers have to chase away from the roped off viewing area every so often. In the surrounding hills there’s also a number of bronze age burial mounds. AFter viewing the stone circle, Jill and Missy and I hiked all the way up to where the mounds are cordoned off with barbed wire. They, too, are kind of funny, because they look like massive lumps of dirt with grass and weeds growing on them and cows grazing in close proximity. All the way up on those hills, though, we had an incredible view of the English countryside. It was very peaceful, even with all the cars flying down the highway and the people milling about Stonehenge. Nice to breathe in fresh air and see cows and sheep.

After our hour at Stonehenge, the 16 of us and Steve piled back into the minibus and drove to Salisbury, a medieval city with a highly esteemed gothic cathedral, often called the most beautiful in England. It’s a pretty cathedral. Gothic. Gothic cathedrals are usually rather lovely. We went in and wandered around a bit, then walked to the city center, stopping in a local cafe type place to eat our lunch and sip some lovely hot chocolate (or mocha, in Jill’s case), then wandered through the streets, which I found surprisingly grid like. We talk all the time in my history class and representing london class about how the twisting streets of London are remnants of its medieval origins, so I had expected Salisbury, as a medieval city, to have streets rather twisty, kind of like Siena. Not so much, no. We walked under St. Ann’s Gate, saw the House of John a’Porte (c. 1425), The Guildhall, The College of Matrons, The Pheasant Inn, Mompesson house, The Town Mill, The Old George, and the Poultry Cross (all handily explained in our walk-around guide and map. Central Salisbury is historic-building central, with tons of Tudor-style, timberframed buildings precariously perched all over the place. We also explored St. Thomas’ Church, which was completely empty. It’s fairly small, but quite a lovely gothic specimen. Most of it is 15th century, but some of it dates to the 13th. Now, it’s kind of hidden behind a tea shop, unfortunately, so it’s hard to get a good front view, and easy to walk right on past it. We also found a real, live bakery (haven’t found one yet in London!), and walked through the market. It was a bit more commercialized than we’d hoped, so we did that quickly–although they had some uber cheap cheese and meat, and had we been going straight home or armed with a cooler, we would so have enjoyed ourselves at that one stall. /sigh

After our wanderings, we went back to the bus. It was about three o’clock, and it starts getting dark around four, completely black around five. We drove for probably another half hour–which direction, I couldn’t tell you–but somehow, we emerged in the New Forest, which isn’t all forest, I was surprised to find. The New Forest was establed by William the Conquerer hundreds of years ago as his own personal park. Peasants couldn’t graze their animals there, couldn’t hunt, couldn’t even gather fallen wood. On pain of death. Nice guy, eh? Nowadays, most of what we drove through resembled what I imagined heath would like like, as in Wuthering Heights-esque lonely moors, all damp and full of brambles and tones of grey and muted reds and eggplants, with evergreens scattered across the open hills and into the forests. Ever heard of the New Forest Pony? Well, they live here. There are several thousand of them at the moment, and they are wild horses…though somewhat dulled to the intrusions of the modern world, thanks to tourists and random visitors invading their territory and trying to pet them. As it’s gotten quite a bit colder, they’re growing in their fluffy winter coats, which makes them quite cute and cuddly looking. It was actually rather nice, though this was the part of the trip that I didn’t really care for, initially. I wandered away from the group, who were steadfastly stalking the poor ponies, who kept trying to walk away nonchalantly. I found two ponies hidden by a bushy bit of evergreen, and sort of crouched down and watched them, talking under my breath quietly. They were interested in me for a moment, then went back to eating. It was really peaceful, just watching them eat and go about their business, not caring that I was there since I didn’t try to pet them. One girl came up behind me though and tried to get closer, and they walked away… Shortly after that, I found a very chubby little guy, a paint pony with splashes of white and chestnut, who greatly resembled dear devious Dandelion, but fatter. I got within a foot of him before he turned his bum towards me and sort of looked over his shoulder like he was saying, ‘do you doubt I will kick you?’ At that moment, I noticed everyone had gone back to the bus, so I ran back, and we went home. Well, almost.

Traffic was bad when we got back to West London, and so by the time I recognized that we were in Kensington/Knightsbridge, we all got off the bus to take the tube back to Mile End. We got off and walked to Harrods, where the Knightsbridge stop is, and found it closed. Bummer. But, Harrods was beautifully, classily lit for the holidays! I’m going to have to go back and get pictures soon. We ended up walking to the South Kensington station, then taking the District line back to Mile End, where we all stopped at Budgens to get some supplies for dinner before retiring.

Sunday and Monday were homework/lazy days, and Tuesday was my first day back in class. It was a really longgg day, as I had an hour of lecture followed by lunch, and then three more hours of nonstop class. I really am coming to love my Narrative Fiction seminar group. It’s probably the one school-related thing I’ll miss back in Richmond. Everyone comes in and is so merry and chatty and friendly, and Rosemary leads such fun discussions and people talk, and it’s really rather nice. That night, as proposed by Elizabeth who I suppose was feeling rather homesick for America, the troup (Elizabeth, Liz, Jill, Missy, and I) went to TGI Fridays in Picadilly Circus. The menu was the same. The decor was the same. The only thing that burst my American bubble was the British waiter. Oh well. Can’t win them all!

Wednesday was English Society, which was fine, as always. Kirsten, my fellow American classmate and friend, received her grade for her presentation. She got a 72, which is a really good A here. We were surprised because the professor had added a lot to her presentation, and disagreed with pieces of it. Hopefully, the way she was graded will bode well for my own presentation in two weeks.

Wednesday night was a rather frantic one, as I ended up spending a lot longer than expected editing down my walking journal (ended up around 1700 words, which was far better than 2400!), trying to figure out how to cite poetry and reprinted material in the very-limited MHRA style that the English Department uses, then trying to get my receipt and cover sheet forms together, then making it over to the library, waiting ten minutes for the computer to boot up and log me on, then trying to get my pictures to look decent in a word doc (ended up using power point, since word kept freezing!), and printing them on the uber slow printers. I was so frustrated by the end of it, so done with everything and completely fried. It was half past eight when I returned to my flat, so I had a cereal dinner rather than the roasted chicken I had intended to make, and then chilled out with some Pride and Prejudice fanfiction, since I couldn’t focus on anything else.

Thursday was d-day, deadline day, the day I handed in my Representing London walking journal, the first assignment I’ve had to submit at Queen Mary. It went well, I think. I was much more put together then my fellow (QM) classmates, stapled and coversheeted and everything. Score! Class was so dull and boring, all based on the theory of the city, and so few people attended lecture, I guess because they were still doing their walking journals, which we handed in during Seminar. Ah well. After class was over for the day, and the week, I went back to Budgens for food stuffs (ham and cheese and crackers and milk!), had lunch, and then passed out around 3. I woke up at 8:30, which is why I’m stil up now, as it nears 4 a.m. I’m just a teensy bit tired, so hopefuly I’ll be able to go to sleep soon.

Happy Friday, now that we’re all caught up!

If your life was a movie, what would the soundtrack be? November 12, 2008

Stolen, as most entertaining survey things are, from Jen’s facebook. And I’ll fill you in on more interesting England-y things soon. Promise. This is just more fun, provided my iTunes opens in the next century.

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here’s how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that’s playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don’t lie and try to pretend your cool…
7. When you’re finished tag some other people to do it!

Opening Credits:
“So Far”–Bernadette Peters

Waking Up:
“Finale”– OBC How to Succeed in Business…

First Day at School:
“Overture”–Bernadette Peters/2003 Revival of Gypsy

Falling in Love:
“Only Heart”–John Mayer

Fight Song:
“What Kind of Woman”–Ragtime

Breaking Up:

“With a Little Bit O’ Luck”–OBC My Fair Lady

Prom:
“Drops of Jupiter”–Train

Prom night (if you know what I mean):
“Play”–Jennifer Lopez

Mental Breakdown:
“Quartet/There’s a Man Transition”–OBC The Secret Garden

Driving:
“Nothing Like a Dame”–OBC South Pacific

Flashback:
“What a Game”–Ragtime

Getting Back Together:
“No. 6 in G Minor”–Handel, Chamber Music (oh God, court dance)

Wedding:
“Miniature Overture”–Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker

Birth of Child:
“Sit Down You’re Rockin the Boat”–OBC Guys and Dolls

Final Battle:
“Tonight’s The Night”–1992 BC Crazy For You

Death Scene:
“Processional and Maria”–Soundtrack, The Sound of Music

Funeral Song:
“The Council of Elrond”–Enya, Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring Soundrack

End Credits:
“If I Ever Leave This World Alive”–Flogging Molly

Weird soundtrack, no? Heavy on the Broadway. (Your turn, Kathleen!)

In the land of Harry Potter November 7, 2008

Tuesday morning–election day–dawned unfavorably grey and foggy as I awoke at 8 a.m., sliced open the tip of my finger while cutting open a bagel, and ran outside by 9 to meet the girls for our daytrip. We climbed onto a miraculously not crowded train at Mile End, and took that all the way to Victoria tube station, which opens up into Victoria National Rail, but is somehow very disconnected from Victoria Coach Station, which was our first destination. I was fairly giddy considering the fact that we had no idea where we were going, but eventually, thanks to many signs and a nice national express man’s directions, we found the coach station, hopped on the right bus (which was also delightfully empty), and headed off on the speedy trip to Oxford. As in the place where Oxford University is. As in, Harry Potter World.

When we arrived, earlier than expected, we wandered for a bit down the High Street, then went into the Covered Market (lovely place! wish we would have had more time to explore!) to sit down at a cafe for lunch. There, I had a really wonderful mug of hot chocolate and polished off my bagel. We were surrounded by students talking about vaguely intellectual things. It was refreshing.

After quick lunch, we wandered down to Christ Church College, where the kind old gentleman who takes your money told us to come back in two hours so we could see the Hall and the Dining Room, as they were both closed for lunch. Alright, fine. So off we went, back down the road, and visited the Museum of Oxford, which was interesting, I suppose. I bought two fun postcards that tell the entire story of Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass. I’m rather amused by them. After that, we wandered up to the Bodleian Library, which as a copyright library is sent a copy of every book published, were told that their next tour had been cancelled. After that, we wandered past the Radcliffe Camera, which is the circular, domed main reading room of the Bodleian Library, and peaked through the open door at All Soul’s College, and then, I saw people walking around one of the church spires across the street, and so, jumping up and down it typical five-year-old Brittany fashion, I amused them all enough that we stopped for a half hour to explore the church (St. Mary the Virgin Church), and then I climbed up hundreds of steps to the viewing level and took panoramic photos of Oxford.

Then, we wandered past all the shops on High Street, meandered our way down to Christ Church College once again, and entered the land of Harry Potter. They shot the scene in the first film, where Harry is talking to Ron and Draco in the entrance hall, and then McGonnagal comes in and takes them into the Great Hall, in the Hall at Christ Church. It was exquisite. I’m really hoping my pictures came out, because the hall, as you see in the film, is very simple and clean, but imposing and grand at the same time. And the ceiling is exquisite. I need to show you pictures. Anyway, a climb up the stairs in the Dining Hall, where Oxford Students and faculty still eat lunch. This is the model of the Great Hall in the earlier films. It’s not as grand in size as I had expected it to be, but the room is wood paneled with paintings of people connected to the college hanging on all the walls. Lewis Carroll studied and taught at Christ Church, and so one of the stained glass windows on the left hand side of the hall depicts characters from his Alice stories. There’s also a door in the panelling behind the head table that is supposed to be where he got the idea for the rabbit hole.

From the Great Hall, we gazed at Tom’s Tower, in which lies Big Tom, a bell, and then went into the Cathedral, which is exquisite. They have a stained glass window showing Jonah, but only the figure of Jonah is actually stained glass. The rest is just painted glass. You could see the slight difference in the way that the light came through; Jonas sort of glowed, while the rest of the scene was just illuminated. The ceiling is, I think, the most incredible thing about the cathedral. It’s made up of interweaving star shapes, symbolizing the universe and the entirety of God’s creation. I’ve never seen anything like it.

That was pretty much the end of the tour of Christ Church College. It really is a beautiful school. The courtyards are very Hogwarts-y. I can just envision the students sitting outside talking, or Hermione running past right when Ron insults her during the first book. /sigh.

After that, Liz took us in a great circle before heading back to the Library for a tour. I opted to go with Jill and Elizabeth to the Oxford Castle. Because my companions are..um..cheap…we didn’t actually go in the castle, and from the outside, it didn’t really look as impressive as the smaller but still castle-like county hall did. The hall is actually really cute.

We finished up our tour of Oxford with dinner at The Eagle and Child, the pub where Tolkein and CS Lewis met and discussed highly intellectual things. There’s a plaque over their old table, now, but it was already occupied when we arrived. Dinner was a slow, comfortable affair in the cozy pub, and after that, we meandered back to the coach station, hopped aboard our bus, and snoozed all the way back to London.

I bet you’re thinking, what does the crazy girl actually think of Oxford?

Well, I liked it. I would have liked it a lot more, I think, if it would have been sunny out, if I would have planned out an itinerary or my fellow explorers would have done some research instead of leaving it on me, as per usual, or if I would have come alone. I know it sounds sad, but sometimes I just like doing what I want to do when I want to do it, and I don’t like dealing with walking all over the place because a certain individual can’t read a map, or walking for 20 minutes to some place and then not going in because you don’t want to pay the admission fee. It’s kind of disheartening. But it was a lot of fun, really, particularly Christ College and supper at the Eagle and Child. I would have liked to go to the Ashmolean Museum, perhaps see another college, but we did a fair amount, and I was certainly exhausted by the time I got home.

Oxford itself is just the way it looks in the pictures: very cute, very old, full of history and fabulous architecture and brainy students that ride bikes everywhere. There were bikes, everywhere, I kid you not. Everywhere. It’s very picturesque, even on dull November days in England when the weather is on this side of crap. It’s got a very walkable town center, although on our bus ride back to London, we went through quite a bit that we hadn’t explored, farther down High Street, I think, towards the outskirts. It’s a small place, though, which makes me exceedingly glad to be living in London. I love having so much to explore. The thing about Oxford, I think, is that it’s all so beautiful and the architecture is so similar that one beautiful building fades into the other, and by the end of the day, you lose your appreciation for the splendor around you.

And I’m Proud to Be an American… November 5, 2008

Being abroad during this election has made me realize just how proud I am of my heritage. Prior to coming here and listening to people rip my country apart, I’d never really appreciated just how much I love America. And let me just say that I am not ‘proud to be an American for the FIRST time’, like so many people declared on Facebook when Obama won. I’m pretty damn proud to be an American, period. And it’s the ridiculous arrogant, cynical comments that I read on places like The Guardian’s website and The Student Room that make my blood boil and make me want to tie them up and make them listen to sense. Comments like this one:

Nov 05 08, 3:17pm (about 9 hours ago)

I partially agree with MrJoe. Apart from Florida, the South East Dixie heartland was and remains very red and right wing. The share of the vote Obama receives probably reflects the African_American population share. Few whites will have voted for Obama. But to hell with them. They are still stuck in their Gone With The Wind, slave owning, god fearing, woman beating, black lyncing, pre civil war mindset. Overall the US has moved in the right direction. We should not let a dumb minority spoil the victory.

A. Much of the South, like North Carolina, had close races. And just because they ended up swinging towards McCain DOESN’T MEAN THEY WANT TO LYNCH OBAMA! This election was *partially* about race, but it was about other issues, too! My god, it’s like people in Britain can’t see in shades of gray. It’s either black or it’s white, and that’s that. I have yet to meet a single person who sees a black man in the street and says, ‘damn, that guy’d make a mighty fine slave’. I’ve had open discussions about this with people from all over the place; racism exists, but with the Civil Rights Movement, we took a step away from it, and now, with the results of this election, we’ve taken another step. Racism is part of our history; you can’t eradicate it in a year’s worth of campaigning.

And I love the fact that here, Americans can never win. Before the election happened, if you supported McCain, you were stupid. Never mind that Americans have different values and beliefs, and that different political positions are important to us for different reasons.  But now, since Obama has won, all of his supporters (particularly on The Student Room forums) are being derided for voting for the A. the PC choice or B. talk about change. I’m sure some people did vote for both of those reasons, but stop with the generalizations! This is me, ripping my hair out.

Here are some more gems:

“So why do the pundits all keep calling Obama black? From what I know his father was black and his mother was white. Isn’t that half and half. Couldn’t he then be called white? At least on half the days? Or do we still really believe that if he has even one drop of that dusky blood then he is considered a colored boy? And you say you aren’t racist?”

Obama considers himself black, I do believe.

“How many ‘Blacks’ did not vote for Obama?” In Response: “xenumaster, the only ones who probably didnt vote for Obama are the ones who were stopped from entering the Polling Stations and the ones who are lied to by GOP officials. I doubt many of those who voted would not have voted for Obama!”

Oh, and on The Student Room, people were talking about, with regards to Americans voting for the PC choice, the chances of, say, a Serbian immigrant being elected. Now, it has been a long time since I read the Constitution, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you have to have been born in American to run for president…

“African-American and Latinos oppose gay marraige in large numbers.
Civil unions, however, are supported my a majority of Americans.
It’s a semantic hangup, really.”

(totally on about the semantic hangup. I completely agree.)

Someone also asked when America would vote in a gay president. If you look historically, the gay rights movement followed/coincided with the women’s rights movement, which was inspired and grew out of the civil rights movement. I think this is one of the reasons why Hillary Clinton couldn’t compete with Obama; our society has its hangups, and we have to deal with one before we deal with another. Unfortunately, as gay rights deals also with religious factors, I think a gay man or woman as president will happen far off into the future. I’m hoping that eight years of Obama will put us in a good position to elect a woman without a good dosage of the sexist bullshit we had to wade through this election, first with Hillary and then with Sarah Palin.

/sigh

I’m happy that Obama won. I’m proud that my country could take this step forward. But I’m not shouting from the rooftops. Not yet, at least. I’m still skeptical, and am keeping my fingers crossed that this man who won over so much of America can pull through with his promises. And I’m really hoping that democratic senate and house will make a difference, too.

Another side note November 3, 2008

Somebody searched the term ‘uhuhuhuh london’ and viewed my blog.

Who searches that term?

/shortest post of the century

An announcement, as I shake in my cute black patent ballet flats November 3, 2008

(which, Mom, have actually become quite comfortable over my frequent ramblings across town)

Upon going back to certain Collegian articles I’ve discussed (namely, the last two posts, I think), I’ve noticed that one of the comment functions on the Collegian website is pulling up my blog posts when I insert the link. Now, I usually insert the link because Kathleen yells at me when I don’t, and I think it’s nice for you to be able to go straight to what I’m talking about, if you’re interested, but I think it’s really creepy that whoever clicks on that article can see my personal rants and ravings that will most definitely be taken out of context by those who don’t know me. Like the authors of the articles I like to bash. I’m not apologizing for my words, and I haven’t received any comments, but I just feel uncomfortable because my intent in linking to The Collegian was not so that whoever reads the Collegian can go and find me. If I wanted to express my thoughts on The Collegian, I would have commented on the website.

So, yeah, sorry, but I’ve removed those links and I will probably not be linking back to The Collegian unless I really want you to read something/I have nothing that I don’t care about others reading.

That’s all I have to say!

<3 Britt

“Not Statistically Significant” November 3, 2008

Otherwise known as another gripe about The Collegian. Because they make it too easy for me to find fault…

In an attempt to avoid doing work I should have started over the weekend, I have been browsing The Collegian website on a somewhat regular basis. This, my latest gripe, is in response to “Collegian Survey Shows Political Divide On Campus,” written by Dan Petty (who coincidentally went to my high school. My old English teacher kept on trying to set us up after I graduated… I don’t think any of my Richmond friends were aware of that one, but since Ryan, Kathleen, and Calamity are the only Spiders that read this, it’s all good. And it’s so not as sketchy as it sounds, guys.).Back to my gripe.

“Here at Richmond, eight in 10 students said they were entirely comfortable with a black president of the United States. Ten percent said they were only “somewhat comfortable” with the idea, while about 6 percent said they were somewhat uncomfortable with it, and 3 percent said they were “entirely uncomfortable” with it — the latter result of which is not statistically significant.”

“Since the last Collegian survey conducted in late September, Barack Obama’s support has risen, though the results are not statistically significant. About 55 percent of respondents said they would vote for Obama if the election were held today, compared with 52 percent who said so in the last survey. Another 28 percent said McCain, slightly lower than the 32 percent who supported him in late September.”

Okay, so we’re talking three percentage points in polls which generally have margins of error of +/1 5%. So not, not statistically significant because that three percent falls within that margin error. I am glad Dan qualified the comment mathematically, because saying that it’s not significant would have been a major mistake, considering that George W. Bush won Florida technically by around 500 votes. I would say that’s not statistically significant. He won by 0.0092% according to Wikipedia, and you can make all the cracks you want about the correctness of that percentage and ruling, but to this day, the results of those 500 votes that were counted and potential millions that were not made a big difference.

So really, let’s not say that the 3 percent of students polled at Richmond who said they are ‘entirely uncomfortable’ with a black president is insignificant. Isn’t it a group of these likeminded 3 percent that so many have been fighting against in the name of racism and civil rights? And lets not say that the three percent rise in Barack’s support is insignificant, eh? Because if this goes down to Florida, or wherever, once again, it damn well could be pretty fricking significant.

My real problem with saying that something is not statistically significant is that so many people would be quick to take that as meaning that something is not significant, as if it doesn’t matter. But it does. That may not be the intention, but for a lot of people, I think that’s the effect.

Not that this is a dig against Dan Petty. I like Dan Petty. Nice bloke. Takes a lot of photos. And I get what he’s saying, really I do, and mathematically, he’s correct. Some uses of my beloved language just erk me.

PS–The nitpicking point I’d really like to make is the significance of a poll that was taken a month ago. Um. A lot has happened since then, sparky. And what poll is Dan hinting at in the second quote, above? And why is the article constructed the way it is?

Seriously. I’m all about free press, and I love that The Collegian is student-run, in theory, but I think a bit more faculty interference/guidance would be a really good thing. Calling one, Tom Mullen, for duty!

This is me, chuckling in my head November 1, 2008

So, I was browsing the Collegian website today, and came across this October 30th, 2008 opinion piece by a RC 2010 guy that I’ve never heard of by the name of Nathan Bullock, “WGSS Should Lose the ‘W’”.

I think this is the most entertaining bit:

Unfortunately, WGSS (Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies) has really done nothing to prevent this from happening in the first place. No, we don’t need a MILL (Men Involved in Living and Learning) but there’s no denying that men have been fundamentally left out of the picture and the conversation. Do you see any guys in your WGSS classes? Are there even any WGSS classes that address masculinity other than to attack it? For all they do to promote feminism and alternative definitions of femininity, you’d think they’d be more willing to accept that there are different types of masculinity as well. What about a class on what it means to be a gentleman?

All of this venting at the WGSS curriculum (and I must say, I think it’s sad that some people on campus can’t figure out what WGSS stands for) is really funny. Here are the counter points I’d like to make:

1. Do I see any guys in my WGSS classes? Well, I’ve only taken one, but there were four guys in it (and 6 or 7 girls).

2. WGSS classes don’t attack masculinity. I love the misconception that all feminists, all people who study Women’s Studies, hate men. History studies largely the actions of men, but do people who study history hate women? I’d like to think not…

3. WGSS classes address ‘gender’, largely in the way society interacts with concepts of gender. We talks about what it means to be queer, both to the individual and to society as a whole. We talk about what it means to be a woman, and thus what it means to be a man, and how people subvert and react to subversions of these idealistic depictions of the two genders. We talk about the possibility of more than two genders. We talk about what makes one gender separate from the other. We talk about the differences between sex and gender. We talk a lot. None of the talking that I’ve been party to has ever derided masculinity, whatever that means. And in the one WGSS class I took, there wasn’t what I would call ‘promotion of feminism and alternative definitions of femininity’. The class wasn’t about converting people, is what about discussing pervasive social beliefs and norms, and their history.

4. What about a class on what it means to be a gentleman? Um. Maybe this guy should have gone to finishing school instead of Richmond. Or go find a time machine and go back to the 40s and 50s. Or maybe the 18th century.

But, the final thing that I’d like to discuss with Mr. Nathan Bullock is whether or not he has ever taken a WGSS class. If he has, and these observations are from experience, fine. You’ll suffer no argument from me. But of not, then, what is WGSS supposed to do to make things better? You won’t register for the class, you don’t want it to be a gen ed, so what do you expect?

PS–If anyone wants to take a shot at outlining Bullock’s argument, I’ll give you a cookie. I’m not entirely sure what he’s going on about or what his proposed solution is, besides jumping up and down and yelling, ‘I’m a guy and I have feelings too! Listen to me! It’s not always about you angry feminists! And come on guys! Keep it classy, Richmond!’

PPS–I thought the purpose of a university was to educate, not to provide virtueless guys with virtue.

PPPS–You’re in the South! Go find your white horse and learn to be a gentleman yourself! Go on! Scat!