Last year I lived at an apartment complex called Heather Cove and I thought the location was pretty good. Obviously not as close as the dorms, but not bad. But one thing you could not escape was walking up the stairs. Not just normal stairs either. Stairs that are too close together to take normal, human steps but also stairs that were too far apart for short-legged-ones like me to successfully take them two at a time. I use the word "successfully" because it was possible, but then you just ended up looking like you were trying to go all "King Kong" on a local village. I guess this idea of "king-konging" it to class could lead to a debate over what your idea of successful is, but mine would probably not include savaging the natives and swatting helicopters out of the sky, at the very least because I hate being late to class and acts of savagery do take time. I usually save my King Kong reinactments for the weekends and on the way home from class. More time to really get into character, if you know what I mean. Sometimes I even branch out in my acting skills a little and try my hand (or claws) at doing my best "Jurassic Park" impersonation. (Now here you should be thinking Michael Caine, "I haven't seen a walk like that since Jurassic Park!"). But I digress. (The word "digress" always makes me think of Dostoevsky and The House of the Dead, just fyi).
I don't really digress though, because as I walked up these stairs day after day I had a lot of time to think about such things. Thoughts like, "I really shouldn't be doing this in a skirt" or "Remember that one scene with the velociraptor" and more frequently "Oh good, I can hear them panting too."
This year I live at a different complex that advertised with the slogan "Your walk to campus could start here!" Coincidence that we chose it? I think not! Even though the walk time is considerably lessened, well, at least a few minutes... There is still no avoiding the stairs.
It has been a goal of mine to count these stairs and you might be musing at the fact that it took me until halfway through the semester to accomplish this task, but it is only because the above thoughts are so distracting. Or other thoughts... such as:
"1-2-3-4--Oh! Look at that bug!" oops. "23-24-25....33-- please don't stop to talk- please don't stop to talk! Try and look busy, focus on the railing! oh good! He didn't see me" yeah, I can be a jerk when I pant up the stairs. Or occasionally you encounter the super cool BYU student: "104-105-106- Do you think he realizes we can hear him singing? How could he not realize? Do you think he knows that kind of behavior isn't normal? Maybe I should tell him... Dangit he made me lose count!" Or occasionaly envy gets in the way, "75-76-- goodness she is just hauling up those suckers. She would. Oh yeah, sure, just stop and have a nice breathful conversation with the hot guy. I'll just be back here." And then of course "102-103-- RAWR (other incoherent roars and slashing sounds) *Pause to pound fists on chest*"
So as you might imagine, it took me a significant amount of time to successfully count the 147 stairs to campus. Yep. 147. If you think 147 isn't a lot, you go climb them. Don't forget your backpack of bricks, because let me tell you, that will hinder your walking rate. I almost had to count them again because I couldn't remember how many there were. But luckily I remember thinking "sort of like 76 trombones, but not. Oh! 147!" Now you are going to go out and count them yourself because you no longer trust me. Wise of you.
You get the idea. One morning I happened to leave my apartment a few minutes later than I usually do and because of this I ran into people I know. Usually I like people. But there are times when I really don't. I would like to say that this was just a "one morning thing" but it is usually just every morning. I like my peaceful walk in semi-darkness up to the library. I enjoy being able to fake-shoot the happy, chirpy birds in solitude. I like being able to trudge (yes- thing "Knight's Tale"- a slow, weary, yet determined walk) up at whatever pace I want.
So these people, had the misfortune, my misfortune really, of encountering me on my walk. But they all were going to class. So no trudging for them. They had to King-Kong-it up to campus. Does anybody foresee the problem? I did. I really did. Ten steps in, "So, how you doin?" "Ope, you know, just great.... (quick gasp) You?" "Some super clever comment about their life" (me catching a well-timed breath so that I can answer smoothly) "short, clipped comment, open-ended question to keep them talking?"
Did I mention that these people took the stairs two at a time?? Yeah.
I don't leave late anymore.
And now that I have sufficiently rambled about the stairs and eliminated the later option of "blogging as a form of procrastination" I bid you all a happy, stair-free weekend.
Longfellow
"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain."
Friday, October 21, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
Public Humiliation
I was just publicly humiliated. Correction: I just publicly humiliated myself. So did this other boy, but I am not sure he had enough awareness to know that he was. Publicly humiliating himself, that is.
The boy, and I use the term boy here, because he was brushing his teeth (pause for anticipation) in the DRINKING FOUNTAIN. For reals. So beyond gross. I was so stunned that I said, "Well, this is a first for me" and he spittingly (because he had toothpaste in his mouth) responded, "What, you don't often see people brushing their teeth in the drinking fountain?" Quite a lengthy response for someone with toothpaste in their mouth. And I casually responded, "Nope. Can't say that I do." When I really wanted to say, "Nope, most likely because it is mildly, actually monumentally, repulsive." But he apparently thinks that is "normal."
Now on to my own bout of pariahhood. I was in my New Testament class and I got singled out to say the prayer. I tried to reassure myself, "it's just a prayer, you do this all the time, no big deal." But then I remembered that the person saying the prayer is required to introduce themselves. I don't usually have a problem with things like this, but the lack of preparation time just really threw me off. I also don't usually blush, but I'm pretty sure my face was bright red. Way to stay cool, Tara. Not.
So this is where the problem started. I got up, said hastily, "I'm Tara and I'm an English teaching major" then went to the praying position to indicate that this was over. But it wasn't. Far from over, really. The professor insists I give a little more information and then prompts me by asking where I'm from. Then came the inevitable T-bird or Bulldog question. (Cue lame hand motions in shape of t-bird, lamely supplied by me). Then the lovely man opens it up for questions. Seriously? Seriously. Question and answer time with Tara. Meanwhile, I am assuming the prayer position, hoping against hope that people will be discouraged. But alas, twas not so.
First kid (future rocket scientist)- "So, uh, what's your favorite color?" Are we in first grade here junior? Apparently. This seemingly simple question proved my downfall. A little background information is required here. One of my all-time favorite literary characters is Miss Havisham (name that classic Dickens novel?!) and she was quite an inspiring character for me. Come on, you can't beat the whole "I have a heart that beats, but not that loves" training she foisted on her eager pupil. Because of Miss Havisham, I have always insisted that black is my favorite color because it's the "color of my heart." Background information covered, back to class.
The color question really threw me and my instincts kicked in and I responded with the usual response "Black." Luckily, I had the presence of mind to not include the "because it's the color of my heart." Religion professors might not love that. Then some other smart alecky kid pipes in "uh, you do realize, that, uh, black is the absence of color." "Yes, thank you, I only get that every single time I answer this question" but I spared them the Miss Havisham story.
Next question from kid in purple shirt, "So uh, what do you, um, like to do for fun?" Fortunately, the professor at this point decided to step in before I could respond to questioner number two that I don't, in fact, have fun. Then I prayed and retreated back to my seat. And began to think about all of the ways being an English major has ruined me. I have accumulated quite a list so far, so that will probably be appearing sometime. Now I need to go find a hat or something to disguise myself. Excuse me.
The boy, and I use the term boy here, because he was brushing his teeth (pause for anticipation) in the DRINKING FOUNTAIN. For reals. So beyond gross. I was so stunned that I said, "Well, this is a first for me" and he spittingly (because he had toothpaste in his mouth) responded, "What, you don't often see people brushing their teeth in the drinking fountain?" Quite a lengthy response for someone with toothpaste in their mouth. And I casually responded, "Nope. Can't say that I do." When I really wanted to say, "Nope, most likely because it is mildly, actually monumentally, repulsive." But he apparently thinks that is "normal."
Now on to my own bout of pariahhood. I was in my New Testament class and I got singled out to say the prayer. I tried to reassure myself, "it's just a prayer, you do this all the time, no big deal." But then I remembered that the person saying the prayer is required to introduce themselves. I don't usually have a problem with things like this, but the lack of preparation time just really threw me off. I also don't usually blush, but I'm pretty sure my face was bright red. Way to stay cool, Tara. Not.
So this is where the problem started. I got up, said hastily, "I'm Tara and I'm an English teaching major" then went to the praying position to indicate that this was over. But it wasn't. Far from over, really. The professor insists I give a little more information and then prompts me by asking where I'm from. Then came the inevitable T-bird or Bulldog question. (Cue lame hand motions in shape of t-bird, lamely supplied by me). Then the lovely man opens it up for questions. Seriously? Seriously. Question and answer time with Tara. Meanwhile, I am assuming the prayer position, hoping against hope that people will be discouraged. But alas, twas not so.
First kid (future rocket scientist)- "So, uh, what's your favorite color?" Are we in first grade here junior? Apparently. This seemingly simple question proved my downfall. A little background information is required here. One of my all-time favorite literary characters is Miss Havisham (name that classic Dickens novel?!) and she was quite an inspiring character for me. Come on, you can't beat the whole "I have a heart that beats, but not that loves" training she foisted on her eager pupil. Because of Miss Havisham, I have always insisted that black is my favorite color because it's the "color of my heart." Background information covered, back to class.
The color question really threw me and my instincts kicked in and I responded with the usual response "Black." Luckily, I had the presence of mind to not include the "because it's the color of my heart." Religion professors might not love that. Then some other smart alecky kid pipes in "uh, you do realize, that, uh, black is the absence of color." "Yes, thank you, I only get that every single time I answer this question" but I spared them the Miss Havisham story.
Next question from kid in purple shirt, "So uh, what do you, um, like to do for fun?" Fortunately, the professor at this point decided to step in before I could respond to questioner number two that I don't, in fact, have fun. Then I prayed and retreated back to my seat. And began to think about all of the ways being an English major has ruined me. I have accumulated quite a list so far, so that will probably be appearing sometime. Now I need to go find a hat or something to disguise myself. Excuse me.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Knockout Punch
I have lost a few rounds... BUT I WON THIS ONE!!!!
So I know I have been AWOL (or perhaps MIA) from the blog scene for the last little bit... But today I have a blog-worthy post.
I will try to set the stage a little bit for you. My freshman year at BYU I often found myself studying at the Law Library (lovingly called the lawbrary), it had a nice atmosphere, was really close to the dorms etc. Then my sophomore year I found myself at the HBLL (Pronounced "H- bell" -BYU talk for Harold B. Lee Library), with a brief stint on the fourth floor, a little rendez-vous on the first and then I set up permanent residence in the Periodicals. This year, my junior year, I have maintained that residency and have even found myself the perfect table.
This table is far enough away from the front that tons of people don't walk by, but far enough away from the windows that I don't get distracted or daydream about rolling down the hill. I have a perfect view when the shelves move (it really is exciting) and basically it is just the best table.
So I thought I had pretty clearly marked my territory, if you will, but then one day, a day that will live in infamy (ok that might have been a bit dramatic), I was returning to my table after class and there was this guy there. I know. He was even in my exact seat. But it was a fairly crowded day, so I figured I would just let it pass this once and just join him at the table, which I did. He then tried to make some sort of small talk, which I ever-so-politely responded to with inarticulate mumblings and grunts, and I figured the next day all would go back to normal.
Oh was I wrong. Next day I show up first thing in the morning, some variation on "bright-eyed and bushy-tailed" and the library was fairly empty (as it usually is in the morning) but MY table was not. Empty, that is. Aforementioned dude was totally at my table. Not cool.
So I had no other choice but to locate myself at the table right next to his (by "his" I really mean MINE), so that I could still glare at him. As you can imagine, this little "table war" has been going on for the last few weeks now. Sometimes I win, sometimes he does. Sometimes most of the tables will be empty except for MY table.
Yesterday was an all-time low when I got to the library even earlier than usual but he beat me to it. So I plopped down in the vicinity and he thought he would rub salt in the wound by "whispering" (I put it in quotes because it was like stage whispering- there was nothing quiet about it) with his little buddy.
I had resigned myself to the fact that I would just have to relinquish rights to the table, find a new place to call home and move on. Until this morning. I felt victorious enough to post a blog about it. I think I might have scared him away! (victory dance). Actually, there are only two other people here so I could probably do a silent VICTORY DANCE not in parenthesis, just go for it and they wouldn't even notice. Nobody is even here and best of all- HE ISN'T HERE. I GOT MY TABLE. Roundhouse kick to the face. Knockout punch.
So I know I have been AWOL (or perhaps MIA) from the blog scene for the last little bit... But today I have a blog-worthy post.
I will try to set the stage a little bit for you. My freshman year at BYU I often found myself studying at the Law Library (lovingly called the lawbrary), it had a nice atmosphere, was really close to the dorms etc. Then my sophomore year I found myself at the HBLL (Pronounced "H- bell" -BYU talk for Harold B. Lee Library), with a brief stint on the fourth floor, a little rendez-vous on the first and then I set up permanent residence in the Periodicals. This year, my junior year, I have maintained that residency and have even found myself the perfect table.
This table is far enough away from the front that tons of people don't walk by, but far enough away from the windows that I don't get distracted or daydream about rolling down the hill. I have a perfect view when the shelves move (it really is exciting) and basically it is just the best table.
So I thought I had pretty clearly marked my territory, if you will, but then one day, a day that will live in infamy (ok that might have been a bit dramatic), I was returning to my table after class and there was this guy there. I know. He was even in my exact seat. But it was a fairly crowded day, so I figured I would just let it pass this once and just join him at the table, which I did. He then tried to make some sort of small talk, which I ever-so-politely responded to with inarticulate mumblings and grunts, and I figured the next day all would go back to normal.
Oh was I wrong. Next day I show up first thing in the morning, some variation on "bright-eyed and bushy-tailed" and the library was fairly empty (as it usually is in the morning) but MY table was not. Empty, that is. Aforementioned dude was totally at my table. Not cool.
So I had no other choice but to locate myself at the table right next to his (by "his" I really mean MINE), so that I could still glare at him. As you can imagine, this little "table war" has been going on for the last few weeks now. Sometimes I win, sometimes he does. Sometimes most of the tables will be empty except for MY table.
Yesterday was an all-time low when I got to the library even earlier than usual but he beat me to it. So I plopped down in the vicinity and he thought he would rub salt in the wound by "whispering" (I put it in quotes because it was like stage whispering- there was nothing quiet about it) with his little buddy.
I had resigned myself to the fact that I would just have to relinquish rights to the table, find a new place to call home and move on. Until this morning. I felt victorious enough to post a blog about it. I think I might have scared him away! (victory dance). Actually, there are only two other people here so I could probably do a silent VICTORY DANCE not in parenthesis, just go for it and they wouldn't even notice. Nobody is even here and best of all- HE ISN'T HERE. I GOT MY TABLE. Roundhouse kick to the face. Knockout punch.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Over and Out
You know, I hoped it wouldn't come to this. But I think it has. I regret to say (even though not really) that for the duration of my stay in England, I will most likely not post another blog. (Pause to anticipate the shocked and appalled gasp from my mother). Sorry Mum, still love you. My hours here are dwindling and I intend to use them well. If it makes you feel any better the list of things I won't be doing for the next few days includes the following:
1. Sleeping
2. Blogging
3. Hair (I will promise to wash it, just not much else)
4. Other things that waste time.... (very specific, I know)
Just a few things I WILL be doing:
1. Gino's
2. Gino's
3. Writing a talk
4. Preparing a lesson
5. Preparing a musical number
6. Putting into action 3, 4, & 5
7. Finishing up my last assignments (not that I haven't done those already, of course I didn't procrastinate...)
8. Gino's? (I mean I do have a punch card to fill up! So much pressure!)
9. Packing (that should be super fun, especially since I haven't purchased much- just kidding I'm just havin a laugh)
10. Last minute acquirements (a few Boost bars for the road, perhaps?)
11. Italy.
So now having said that, you won't be expecting anything from me and if I do put anything on the blog it is like me going above and beyond.
Keep calm and carry on. If I were less of a slacker you would know about my personal relationship with that phrase, but you don't, because I'm not. If I were less of a slacker you would also know that a phrase I love maybe even more than that is "You're havin a laugh." It can also be adapted to different situations, "They're havin a laugh" or "He's havin a laugh" etc etc. In American terms it is similar to the expression "You're kidding, right? There's no way THAT is happening." Love it.
But again, I wish you all the best and hope that you all keep calm and carry on.
1. Sleeping
2. Blogging
3. Hair (I will promise to wash it, just not much else)
4. Other things that waste time.... (very specific, I know)
Just a few things I WILL be doing:
1. Gino's
2. Gino's
3. Writing a talk
4. Preparing a lesson
5. Preparing a musical number
6. Putting into action 3, 4, & 5
7. Finishing up my last assignments (not that I haven't done those already, of course I didn't procrastinate...)
8. Gino's? (I mean I do have a punch card to fill up! So much pressure!)
9. Packing (that should be super fun, especially since I haven't purchased much- just kidding I'm just havin a laugh)
10. Last minute acquirements (a few Boost bars for the road, perhaps?)
11. Italy.
So now having said that, you won't be expecting anything from me and if I do put anything on the blog it is like me going above and beyond.
Keep calm and carry on. If I were less of a slacker you would know about my personal relationship with that phrase, but you don't, because I'm not. If I were less of a slacker you would also know that a phrase I love maybe even more than that is "You're havin a laugh." It can also be adapted to different situations, "They're havin a laugh" or "He's havin a laugh" etc etc. In American terms it is similar to the expression "You're kidding, right? There's no way THAT is happening." Love it.
But again, I wish you all the best and hope that you all keep calm and carry on.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Tara Crossley-Holland
Ok, I promise, it is not what you think. I did not fall in love with someone with the last name of Crossley-Holland and I have not resorted to testing out my name with his. It is not like that.
To preface, in art I gave a presentation on the Rococo period a few weeks ago. I think I mentioned that briefly, but I may not have mentioned that I gave almost the entire presentation in a fake french (ish) accent. Or that I had an entirely original (at least I would imagine) pronunciation of the term "rococo." That being said, the class seemed to enjoy the presentation to some extent. I also showed a clip from "The Scarlet Pimpernel" and obviously that alone would make it the best presentation ever because who doesn't love Percy?!
Now to the real story. In English, I had a presentation on YA lit author Kevin Crossley-Holland. In preparing for this, I was feeling some pressure to give a delivery like I did for the Rococo presentation. I could not think of a single clever or humorous thing to do. What was I to do in such a predicament? Such a dilemma. But I finally decided to just go with the tried and trusted presentation tactic of "dress up like the person you are presenting as and have them come as a guest." So that is what I did, more or less. Without a Savers or DI close by, I did the best I could. Which involved large amount of baby powder. To whiten my hair, of course.
I whitened my hair, pulled it back in a bun, introduced myself as Kevin Crossley-Holland and gave a brief synopsis of my (his) life, all in accent of course. It took me a minute to work into a natural British accent with a hint of northern England. It got even trickier when I read an excerpt from my (his) book, The Bracelet of Bones, and had to be a British man reading the part of a Viking man. Things were getting complicated. It was a relief to turn the time back over to "Tara" for the remainder of the presentation.
Though, perhaps not quite "rococo" I think that I still managed not to disgrace myself entirely. Well, I guess that depends on your definition of "disgrace." In this instance it means, "to not give an entirely boring presentation on a boring author all while speaking in an accent." My Professor then later referred to me as "Tara Crossley-Holland." So at least he remembered who my author was!
To preface, in art I gave a presentation on the Rococo period a few weeks ago. I think I mentioned that briefly, but I may not have mentioned that I gave almost the entire presentation in a fake french (ish) accent. Or that I had an entirely original (at least I would imagine) pronunciation of the term "rococo." That being said, the class seemed to enjoy the presentation to some extent. I also showed a clip from "The Scarlet Pimpernel" and obviously that alone would make it the best presentation ever because who doesn't love Percy?!
Now to the real story. In English, I had a presentation on YA lit author Kevin Crossley-Holland. In preparing for this, I was feeling some pressure to give a delivery like I did for the Rococo presentation. I could not think of a single clever or humorous thing to do. What was I to do in such a predicament? Such a dilemma. But I finally decided to just go with the tried and trusted presentation tactic of "dress up like the person you are presenting as and have them come as a guest." So that is what I did, more or less. Without a Savers or DI close by, I did the best I could. Which involved large amount of baby powder. To whiten my hair, of course.
I whitened my hair, pulled it back in a bun, introduced myself as Kevin Crossley-Holland and gave a brief synopsis of my (his) life, all in accent of course. It took me a minute to work into a natural British accent with a hint of northern England. It got even trickier when I read an excerpt from my (his) book, The Bracelet of Bones, and had to be a British man reading the part of a Viking man. Things were getting complicated. It was a relief to turn the time back over to "Tara" for the remainder of the presentation.
Though, perhaps not quite "rococo" I think that I still managed not to disgrace myself entirely. Well, I guess that depends on your definition of "disgrace." In this instance it means, "to not give an entirely boring presentation on a boring author all while speaking in an accent." My Professor then later referred to me as "Tara Crossley-Holland." So at least he remembered who my author was!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Dahncing Through Life
Nothing like having a holiday from your holiday! This weekend (free travel weekend) was awthum. We kicked it off by seeing "Much Ado About Nothing" at the Globe, which I mentioned in my last post. Did I mention I met Benedick? Ok, fine, I know I mentioned that, I'm still just really excited about that.
Thursday was Brighton Beach day. When I was running that morning I was getting pretty sweaty due to the heat, so we definitely picked a great beach day. Brighton is about an hour via train, so not too bad. But we got out of the train station and there is a really long street and you can see straight to the beach. As you might imagine we (Amy, Hannah, Emily, Jessica, Sarah and I) were all giggling like the schoolgirls we are.
The beach is not made up of sand, but of rocks. We were excited about the prospect of not having sand in everything! Obviously we took care of business first and rented our cute, legit, blue-striped beach chairs and then made a dash to test the water. FREEZING. So we decided we would wait to take the plunge. When we finally got to that point it was a pretty comical affair, some squeals were heard.
After spending some time laying out and enjoying the sun and The Graveyard Book, my then-current read for English, we decided to head over to the pier. But on the way over a few of us pitched in 50p to try some "jellied eel." An interesting experience. And by "interesting" I really mean "utterly repulsive." I may or may not have lost my jellied eel all over the beach. Right in front of an eating area. Bahahaha.
The pier was totally like you see in the movies! Apart from a creepy encounter with a henna-dude, it was an awesome experience. I went on this ride that takes you up super high and then swings you down and up again- it was super fun. Most importantly, I got a tan. So for all of you who were telling me I was going to come back super white... just kidding! I'm still going to come home super white.
Then Friday we got up bright and early and headed to the British Library. The tube was packed and let me just ask the question, is there a better way to start off the day? packed tube? Yes, please! Actually, packed tube isn't always a bad thing. At least, Friday it wasn't a bad thing. I had no where to hold on to because I was squished right in the center, so at one point I started to wobble a little, and this dreamy guy took it upon himself to help me keep my balance. Tehehe. The British Library was sweet. They have some treasures there. I got a kick out of the Beatles section, because they had like song lyrics written on the back of birthday cards and directions to a house and stuff.
From the Library we headed to Wimbledon. We got our strawberries and cream and took a quick look around. To see most of it you have to pay and we were content with seeing what we saw without paying. Then we went to the Rajdoot in Wimbledon Village and had the best Indian food ever. On the way home we stopped at the Natural History Musuem and did the Butterfly Exhibit. I was under the impression that the exhibit was cool because you could touch butterflies, so I was a little surprised when we got chastised for encouraging the butterflies to land on us. Still laughing about that one. We paralleled it to a petting zoo and being told that we can only pet the animal if it comes over and starts nuzzling. We retaliated by stamping ourselves with butterflies at the different stations. They felt the sting.
Did I mention that the weather all weekend was pretty dang hot? Seriously though.
After the butterflies, we ate some leftover at the Centre and then headed out the door to go and try to get discounted tickets to Wicked. We had success and we got great seats too! The Theatre was set up very well. I got a kick out of listening to Wicked with accents. "Dahncing Through Life" was a personal favorite. Elpheba was incredible. I seriously couldn't even breathe during "Defying Gravity" because she was just on fire. Fiyero looked like Prince Charming, which was awesome. Even the ensemble was on fire. They were seriously intense. Loved it. I loved it so much that when we got back to the Centre I attempted to reinact by jumping on the table in the servery and try to defy gravity, it didn't really work though.
So, I'm not the most spontaneous person. Actually, my spontaneity is like nonexistent. So being in London has been interesting, because usually plans fail, no matter how hard you try. Things just come up and things don't work out, but then better things happen and in the end everything comes out all right. This is just something I have gotten used to. But let me just say that I spent so long on the tube on Saturday that I finished an entire 200 page book. Who knew that closing the Victoria line and the District/Circle line could be so disastrous?
We intended to be at the British Museum when it opened, but then on the way there Shelisa's debit card got eaten by the machine and they told us to stay close by because they would get it out in the next hour or so. So we went over to Portobello for a bit, but then headed back to the bank. They then told us that they wouldn't be able to get it out until Monday. So at this point we didn't really have enough time to get to the Museum because we were meeting Hannah at Camden Town at noon. So we tried (and failed) to do a few other things in the hour that we had.
Camden was fun and pretty crazy. The tube was insane getting there and back. There was a football match that day too so all the Manchester United fans were out in force. A lot of chanting and Ole-ing was happening. Other people were sweating on me and stuff.
Earlier this week I discovered that there was a Summer Festival at John Keat's House. So I booked for the "Closing Readings and Concert" and I was pumped up about this. It was happening Saturday at five thirty. So we got back to the Centre from Camden and had like fifteen minutes to get ready to head back out. So we get to Hampstead and head to the house (we also received the best directions to date- "it's the sixth left and first right"). I seriously had butterflies as we approached the house, until we got there and realized that the Closing Readings were actually happening on Sunday and there was a "Three voices" reading happening on Saturday. Oopsie. So we kept our fingers crossed and put our (Amy, Shelisa, and I) names on the waiting list. We explored the grounds of Keat's house in the meantime. We read "To Autumn" and "When I have fears" while passing the time. Then, luckily, they managed to squeeze us in!
So don't even worry, we just listened to a poetry reading at John Keat's house!!!! And we got a little break between readings, so we got to explore the house and we weren't sure if we were allowed to take pictures or not- so we were sneaking around getting pictures. Many phrases like "Clear!" or "Cover me" were heard during this time. We did stop short at jumping into John's bed though. We were tempted. We also might have attempted to kiss his death mask had it not been behind glass. It was magical. And though it was not the original plum tree, because plum trees do not generally have very long lives, we saw the fake plum tree, where John would sit and write poetry.
On the way back from Hampstead we did our usual Saturday activity of Gino's and Trafalgar Square. By this time most of our fellow Londoners were returning from their travels elsewhere. It was fun to hear about their experiences.
Sunday was, as per usual, wonderful. I love my Sunday school class. They are awesome. The lesson was about "Preparing for the Second Coming" and I used the talk by Elder Andersen about "Preparing the World for the Second Coming" and we had a good discussion about missionary work and my class is mostly males. One of the boys told me he could see me serving my mission in South Africa, because he went there once and I look like I could be South African. Hahaha. I also had the very big surprise of seeing Reed Peterson! He used to be in my home ward and his wife was my Sunday school teacher at one point. He was there on business and just happened to be at the Peckham Ward! It was a lovely surprise.
After church I took the tube straight to the British Museum. Luckily, museums are Sunday-approved activities. Rick had a good tour of the place (Rick Steve's) and he took care of me. I also learned some interesting things about the mummification and the extraction of internal organs. I had heard about the method of using a metal rod to pull the organs out through the nose, but that wasn't the only way. There is a different way, that apparently was less expensive. I'm just going to leave it at that.
The rest of Sunday was interesting. And once again, I'm just going to leave it at that.
Thursday was Brighton Beach day. When I was running that morning I was getting pretty sweaty due to the heat, so we definitely picked a great beach day. Brighton is about an hour via train, so not too bad. But we got out of the train station and there is a really long street and you can see straight to the beach. As you might imagine we (Amy, Hannah, Emily, Jessica, Sarah and I) were all giggling like the schoolgirls we are.
The beach is not made up of sand, but of rocks. We were excited about the prospect of not having sand in everything! Obviously we took care of business first and rented our cute, legit, blue-striped beach chairs and then made a dash to test the water. FREEZING. So we decided we would wait to take the plunge. When we finally got to that point it was a pretty comical affair, some squeals were heard.
After spending some time laying out and enjoying the sun and The Graveyard Book, my then-current read for English, we decided to head over to the pier. But on the way over a few of us pitched in 50p to try some "jellied eel." An interesting experience. And by "interesting" I really mean "utterly repulsive." I may or may not have lost my jellied eel all over the beach. Right in front of an eating area. Bahahaha.
The pier was totally like you see in the movies! Apart from a creepy encounter with a henna-dude, it was an awesome experience. I went on this ride that takes you up super high and then swings you down and up again- it was super fun. Most importantly, I got a tan. So for all of you who were telling me I was going to come back super white... just kidding! I'm still going to come home super white.
Then Friday we got up bright and early and headed to the British Library. The tube was packed and let me just ask the question, is there a better way to start off the day? packed tube? Yes, please! Actually, packed tube isn't always a bad thing. At least, Friday it wasn't a bad thing. I had no where to hold on to because I was squished right in the center, so at one point I started to wobble a little, and this dreamy guy took it upon himself to help me keep my balance. Tehehe. The British Library was sweet. They have some treasures there. I got a kick out of the Beatles section, because they had like song lyrics written on the back of birthday cards and directions to a house and stuff.
From the Library we headed to Wimbledon. We got our strawberries and cream and took a quick look around. To see most of it you have to pay and we were content with seeing what we saw without paying. Then we went to the Rajdoot in Wimbledon Village and had the best Indian food ever. On the way home we stopped at the Natural History Musuem and did the Butterfly Exhibit. I was under the impression that the exhibit was cool because you could touch butterflies, so I was a little surprised when we got chastised for encouraging the butterflies to land on us. Still laughing about that one. We paralleled it to a petting zoo and being told that we can only pet the animal if it comes over and starts nuzzling. We retaliated by stamping ourselves with butterflies at the different stations. They felt the sting.
Did I mention that the weather all weekend was pretty dang hot? Seriously though.
After the butterflies, we ate some leftover at the Centre and then headed out the door to go and try to get discounted tickets to Wicked. We had success and we got great seats too! The Theatre was set up very well. I got a kick out of listening to Wicked with accents. "Dahncing Through Life" was a personal favorite. Elpheba was incredible. I seriously couldn't even breathe during "Defying Gravity" because she was just on fire. Fiyero looked like Prince Charming, which was awesome. Even the ensemble was on fire. They were seriously intense. Loved it. I loved it so much that when we got back to the Centre I attempted to reinact by jumping on the table in the servery and try to defy gravity, it didn't really work though.
So, I'm not the most spontaneous person. Actually, my spontaneity is like nonexistent. So being in London has been interesting, because usually plans fail, no matter how hard you try. Things just come up and things don't work out, but then better things happen and in the end everything comes out all right. This is just something I have gotten used to. But let me just say that I spent so long on the tube on Saturday that I finished an entire 200 page book. Who knew that closing the Victoria line and the District/Circle line could be so disastrous?
We intended to be at the British Museum when it opened, but then on the way there Shelisa's debit card got eaten by the machine and they told us to stay close by because they would get it out in the next hour or so. So we went over to Portobello for a bit, but then headed back to the bank. They then told us that they wouldn't be able to get it out until Monday. So at this point we didn't really have enough time to get to the Museum because we were meeting Hannah at Camden Town at noon. So we tried (and failed) to do a few other things in the hour that we had.
Camden was fun and pretty crazy. The tube was insane getting there and back. There was a football match that day too so all the Manchester United fans were out in force. A lot of chanting and Ole-ing was happening. Other people were sweating on me and stuff.
Earlier this week I discovered that there was a Summer Festival at John Keat's House. So I booked for the "Closing Readings and Concert" and I was pumped up about this. It was happening Saturday at five thirty. So we got back to the Centre from Camden and had like fifteen minutes to get ready to head back out. So we get to Hampstead and head to the house (we also received the best directions to date- "it's the sixth left and first right"). I seriously had butterflies as we approached the house, until we got there and realized that the Closing Readings were actually happening on Sunday and there was a "Three voices" reading happening on Saturday. Oopsie. So we kept our fingers crossed and put our (Amy, Shelisa, and I) names on the waiting list. We explored the grounds of Keat's house in the meantime. We read "To Autumn" and "When I have fears" while passing the time. Then, luckily, they managed to squeeze us in!
So don't even worry, we just listened to a poetry reading at John Keat's house!!!! And we got a little break between readings, so we got to explore the house and we weren't sure if we were allowed to take pictures or not- so we were sneaking around getting pictures. Many phrases like "Clear!" or "Cover me" were heard during this time. We did stop short at jumping into John's bed though. We were tempted. We also might have attempted to kiss his death mask had it not been behind glass. It was magical. And though it was not the original plum tree, because plum trees do not generally have very long lives, we saw the fake plum tree, where John would sit and write poetry.
On the way back from Hampstead we did our usual Saturday activity of Gino's and Trafalgar Square. By this time most of our fellow Londoners were returning from their travels elsewhere. It was fun to hear about their experiences.
Sunday was, as per usual, wonderful. I love my Sunday school class. They are awesome. The lesson was about "Preparing for the Second Coming" and I used the talk by Elder Andersen about "Preparing the World for the Second Coming" and we had a good discussion about missionary work and my class is mostly males. One of the boys told me he could see me serving my mission in South Africa, because he went there once and I look like I could be South African. Hahaha. I also had the very big surprise of seeing Reed Peterson! He used to be in my home ward and his wife was my Sunday school teacher at one point. He was there on business and just happened to be at the Peckham Ward! It was a lovely surprise.
After church I took the tube straight to the British Museum. Luckily, museums are Sunday-approved activities. Rick had a good tour of the place (Rick Steve's) and he took care of me. I also learned some interesting things about the mummification and the extraction of internal organs. I had heard about the method of using a metal rod to pull the organs out through the nose, but that wasn't the only way. There is a different way, that apparently was less expensive. I'm just going to leave it at that.
The rest of Sunday was interesting. And once again, I'm just going to leave it at that.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
The World Must Be Peopled
Ok, so here is the deal. The internet wasn't working for awhile at the Centre, and before that I was travelling. Then I even went to a pub to try and get some good internet, but I couldn't get it to work there. So I typed up a little posty-post about the "North Trip" on a Word document, but then the internet started working, but I couldn't get the whole copy-paste deal to work from the word document to the blog. So just know that the North trip was super cool and I'm now really great at Scottish dancing and have got a nice Scottish brogue going on.
We arrived back in London late Friday night and Saturday was our "Harry Potter Day." Basically we (Amy, Shelisa, and I) went around to all the spots from the films. It was exciting. Saturday night we took a bike ride through some different parks and it was amazingly beautiful. It has been awhile since I have ridden a bike, and this was the perfect time to do it. Best thing ever. We followed the bike ride up with a little trip to Trafalgar Square. A perfect Saturday evening.
Sunday we did the "Sung Eucharist" at Westminster. I got a blessing from the Preacher-man. It was very interesting to watch and stuff. I got a little drowsy during the Sermon, but the dude did mention Shakespeare, so points to him. We also enjoyed the whole thing whilst sitting next to John Dryden (or at least his remains). The rest of my Sunday night is a blur, so I probably was at the local pub or something. Jokes. Just joking...
Also, from Saturday to Monday I visited the Tate Britain, the Tate Modern, and the Saatchi Gallery. The Tate Britain had a whole wing of Romantic paintings by Turner, Constable, and even some Blake stuff. My favorite from that wing was probably "Hero and Leander." They also had THE painting of "The Lady of Shalott" and THE painting of Ophelia. So awthum. I was not as pumped up about the Tate Modern and the Saatchi. Just sayin...
Then Tuesday we went to Windsor Castle. Don't even worry, they just have the bullet that killed Admiral Nelson. WHAA????!!!! For reals. They had the bullet. Just hanging out there. The rest of the stuff was pretty cool too, I guess. Ok, but really. The place was sweet and in the gift shop they were playing the Royal Wedding Dvd and we ended up being in there for like ten minutes just watcing. The ladies working there were making fun of us, but one of them commented on Prince William's jaw during the kiss, "of course, just as a motherly figure." True story.
Then we just went and saw Phantom of the Opera. No big deal. Except it was a big deal. It was awesome. Christine had a rough start, she was an understudy, but by the second half she was rocking it. The Phantom was stellar, as was Raoul. Pretty much it was super awesome. The chandelier drop was a little pathetic though. And by a little pathetic, I mean really pathetic. But hey, still really great.
And today. Today makes the top five chart for me. We had class in the morning and then we went over to the Globe Theatre and got in the queue for the ground seats for Much Ado About Nothing. We were right up next to the stage and front and center. The play changed my life forever. But really. And I met Benedick after the show. I'm in love. Beatrice was in the movie The King's Speech. She was unreal. Another highlight- Geoffrey from The Fresh Prince of Bel-air was totally Leonato. Just in case you couldn't quite tell, I was pretty much loving everything about this. Even the guy next to me who brayed like a donkey as a form of laughter added to the event. Did I mention that I'm in love? AH! I have never heard such thunderous applause and just pure enjoyment from an audience before. It was really great to be a part of that and I am just going to go hang out at the Globe every day for the rest of my life. So if you need me, look for me there. (one of the funniest lines from the play was "the world must be peopled!").
This weekend is the free travel weekend and there are only a few of us who stayed behind and I'm kind of digging the Centre being quiet. Bowchickawowow.
We arrived back in London late Friday night and Saturday was our "Harry Potter Day." Basically we (Amy, Shelisa, and I) went around to all the spots from the films. It was exciting. Saturday night we took a bike ride through some different parks and it was amazingly beautiful. It has been awhile since I have ridden a bike, and this was the perfect time to do it. Best thing ever. We followed the bike ride up with a little trip to Trafalgar Square. A perfect Saturday evening.
Sunday we did the "Sung Eucharist" at Westminster. I got a blessing from the Preacher-man. It was very interesting to watch and stuff. I got a little drowsy during the Sermon, but the dude did mention Shakespeare, so points to him. We also enjoyed the whole thing whilst sitting next to John Dryden (or at least his remains). The rest of my Sunday night is a blur, so I probably was at the local pub or something. Jokes. Just joking...
Also, from Saturday to Monday I visited the Tate Britain, the Tate Modern, and the Saatchi Gallery. The Tate Britain had a whole wing of Romantic paintings by Turner, Constable, and even some Blake stuff. My favorite from that wing was probably "Hero and Leander." They also had THE painting of "The Lady of Shalott" and THE painting of Ophelia. So awthum. I was not as pumped up about the Tate Modern and the Saatchi. Just sayin...
Then Tuesday we went to Windsor Castle. Don't even worry, they just have the bullet that killed Admiral Nelson. WHAA????!!!! For reals. They had the bullet. Just hanging out there. The rest of the stuff was pretty cool too, I guess. Ok, but really. The place was sweet and in the gift shop they were playing the Royal Wedding Dvd and we ended up being in there for like ten minutes just watcing. The ladies working there were making fun of us, but one of them commented on Prince William's jaw during the kiss, "of course, just as a motherly figure." True story.
Then we just went and saw Phantom of the Opera. No big deal. Except it was a big deal. It was awesome. Christine had a rough start, she was an understudy, but by the second half she was rocking it. The Phantom was stellar, as was Raoul. Pretty much it was super awesome. The chandelier drop was a little pathetic though. And by a little pathetic, I mean really pathetic. But hey, still really great.
And today. Today makes the top five chart for me. We had class in the morning and then we went over to the Globe Theatre and got in the queue for the ground seats for Much Ado About Nothing. We were right up next to the stage and front and center. The play changed my life forever. But really. And I met Benedick after the show. I'm in love. Beatrice was in the movie The King's Speech. She was unreal. Another highlight- Geoffrey from The Fresh Prince of Bel-air was totally Leonato. Just in case you couldn't quite tell, I was pretty much loving everything about this. Even the guy next to me who brayed like a donkey as a form of laughter added to the event. Did I mention that I'm in love? AH! I have never heard such thunderous applause and just pure enjoyment from an audience before. It was really great to be a part of that and I am just going to go hang out at the Globe every day for the rest of my life. So if you need me, look for me there. (one of the funniest lines from the play was "the world must be peopled!").
This weekend is the free travel weekend and there are only a few of us who stayed behind and I'm kind of digging the Centre being quiet. Bowchickawowow.
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