Fresher's Flu

So, I was amazed and delighted my first week here to discover that I had not, in fact, contracted any illness from the plane - usually, I get off a plane (especially one absolutely filled to the brim with people who seemed to enjoy engaging in horrifically phlegmy coughs, as my flight was from Chicago to Heathrow) and immediately start feeling miserable. This time, however, my misery came solely from the frustrations of banking issues (which, sadly, are still something of a headache - seriously, never try having any dealings with international banks unless you are, in fact, a multimillion dollar conglomeration) and the basics of trying to figure out where everything is while under the influence of jet lag. No coughs, sneezes, or sore throats, however, which was a massive boon - especially considering that nearly all of the halls, when I arrived, were under the last strains of Fresher's Flu, a horrific cold / fever / coughing jag that had several of Bourne Chambers coughing up blood before the end. (While reminiscent of Moulin Rouge, I will only agree to cough up blood if I get to do it in yards and yards of red satin while being held and sung to by Ewan McGregor)

That said, I went in to meet with Nigel and Rebecca (my course leaders) yesterday to discuss my study proposal and their suggestions to get me pointed in the right direction. They said basically everything I expected - don't focus solely on construction and history (because they knew I would], because that's BA level; I need to focus instead of the influence of Virginia Woolf, feminism, gender issues not just in Orlando and in those specific historic points, but gender across the board and how it relates to the world around me and - more to the point - me specifically. It was suggested (and I frankly love the idea) that I should go and live in the Bloomsbury area of London for a week or two, to just soak up the atmosphere of the area, spend the week in the British Museum, get a readers pass to the British Library, frequent feminist bookshops, etc. "You need to become Virginia Woolf," Nigel told me... before adding, "Just, make sure you stop short of turning schizophrenic and taking a swim with your pockets full of stones." Good advice, I'm sure.

Having finally felt like my MA has a direction to go in, I returned home exhausted and post-adrenaline drained. I had the brilliant idea of going to visit Charleston, the country home of the Bloomsbury set, on the coat just past Brighton. They only have two more tours this year - this Friday and next Friday and, given that next Friday is Halloween, I decided to be spontaneous and amazing and make a trip of it to Brighton and go this Friday. After looking up various routes, train and bus, etc, I realized I was tired and decided to take a one-hour nap to perk myself up for work in the evening.

I woke up over 5 hours later with a painfully sore throat, massive headache, and feeling like utter crap. Julia came down and we watched Sweeney Todd, then went upstairs to find Ciaran and Zara making pasta. Patrick joined us eventually and we ended up staying up all night talking and making fun of the people passing on the street below. I went to bed hoping that it was a passing feeling of crap, from the stress of putting together the study proposal, the odd sleeping patterns, and whatever.

No such luck - at least, it still hasn't completely hit, but at this point the defenses are crumbling. I've spent the day inside, guzzling down orange juice, eating all my fruit, eating everything in my fridge (as I tend to do when cranky and uncomfortable), reading other works by Woolf until I feel the uncontrollable urge to destroy the male sex - at which point I put it down and switch over to any number of history / culture of / gender and fashion books, West Wing episodes, or - the highlight of my day - the new episode of Pushing Daisies. (Seriously, just an absolutely fantastic show) 

On the plus side of life, I've started the ball rolling towards closing down one of my three dysfunctional bank accounts, meaning that - hopefully - all my money will soon be back into a bank account that I can actually access (woot); still no idea how to actually get that money into pounds sterling and across the pond, but being able to actually pay off credit cards is a good thing. I do have a final project in mind for my MA and an ability to get there - while I'm disappointed that I won't be able to do the Charleston House tour this calendar year, there's always next year (plenty of time then), and it's always more fun to do these things after you have a better grasp of the history behind them. (My sole knowledge of the life and times of Virginia Woolf currently comes from her wikipedia page, sparknotes page for Orlando, and what little I've seen of The Hours. I could also cite having seen the movie Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? but beyond the fact that Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton are amazing (... and... I'm sure Virginia would agree...?), it doesn't help me much) And hey, I decided on my Halloween costume, so huzzah! Frankly, as much as it sucks to be sick, at least I'm doing an independent MA - I didn't have to go in to campus today, don't have to tomorrow, and don' t have to Monday - I can't imagine the kids who ended up missing the first week and a half of classes because they were coughing up blood. Not an encouraging start to the year.

And heck, even if this does progress to a nasty place, who's to say that Ewan won't show up and start singing Elton John outside my window?

Nearly election time...

World Citizens Prefer Obama to McCain by Nearly 4-to-1

I was interested to get out of the country for election time (well relieved, really, knowing that the attack ads were just going to get worse and certain candidates were just going to keep saying stupider and stupider things ["for purposes of confidentiality, let's call her S. Palin... no, too obvious... Sarah P."] ), but yes - also interested to see what the rest of the world thinks of us as we embark on choosing a new leader. I decided early on that I wouldn't bring up the elections unless someone specifically asked me about them, determined not to be that obnoxious political American.

I knew going in that the rest of the world favored Obama - but I have to say, at least from my little corner of the world, that I completely underestimated. I have yet to meet a single person who wants McCain to win. When the conversation turns to American elections, I am given a serious, deadly look, a quiet "who are you going to vote for?", then a huge, massive smile when I say Obama. Five different people have asked, "Do you actually know anyone who is voting for McCain?" The rhetoric of McCain = Bush really, REALLY connected over here, and well... although the Brits are starting to admit that we can't blame Bush for EVERYTHING (say, the dinosaurs dying out or the Scary Movie franchise), there's a LOT of pent up aggression there. 

And the funny thing is, as you would expect, we get basically NONE of the everyday news stories over here (well, those who actually have a tele and watch the news might get a little more than I do, but...) nobody seems to care or let on that Palin sat back and let SNL make fun of her to her face, nobody knows about the "Ayers" connection, or ACORN, nobody gives a crap who the hell Joe the Plumber is (or if he's even a real plumber), etc. (Though Laura did ask why anyone would be flattered to be called a "Joe Six-Pack", and Ciaran wanted to know why Palin would want to be compared to a pitbull) The day to day minutia that the talking heads love to sit and debate about for hours (No flag pin?!? HE'S A WITCH!!) is not involved in the equation at all. Yet the amazing point is that most of the college students here (17 year olds, mind) can debate American politics and the proposals made by both candidates with me really, sickeningly well. I think it's a rather sad state of affairs when 17 year olds who don't even live in that country know more about its potential leaders than adults actually living in said country. Hm.

In order to counteract that sad last point, I leave you with a clip that never fails to make me smile when I consider American elections (just ignore the first few moments if you've never watched the show). 

Whole houses, right off the ground...

Culture Shifts

Our MA group this year is a fascinating mixture. We are a group of 24 students: 8 from Fine Arts, 7 from Photography, 6 from Costume, and 3 animation students; ranging from straight-out-of-their-BA to "mature" students; and from all over the UK, as well as from the US, Iran, India, Serbia, Greece, Lithuania and China. We not only know who the others in our discipline are, but we're also divided into study groups made up of all four disciplines. (I'm the only costumer in mine) If I learn absolutely NOTHING about costumes in this year (which I'd have to work really, really hard at), it was worth the journey just for the cultural experience. 

Wednesday and Thursday we had to give a Presentation of Self - a 10-20 speech about who we are, what we've been doing, and what we're hoping to do. I was surprised at how nervous nearly all of the class was at the idea of getting up and talking for ten minutes - especially knowing it was just ten minutes in front of a friendly audience talking about a subject that none of us could contradict them about. In addition to talking through my resume (with a powerpoint of pictures) and my study proposal, I started off with a map of the US, and pictures of the Space Needle, Microsoft and Apple, Starbucks, Boeing, and Kurt Cobain, with the notation that I would be more than willing to point out the things Sleepless in Seattle, Grey's Anatomy, and Fraiser got / get wrong about the city. 

As a side note (though it kind of relates...), when I was getting my UK HSBC bank account up and running, the guy asked where I was from in the States. When I told him Seattle, he mentioned that he'd love to travel there and see that "museum of music - the one with the famous architect". Of all the tourist sites that this man wanted to see, the first one he brought up was the EMP. Now, it's probably just that it doesn't appeal to me (and, frankly, I've always made fun of the fact that it's a crumpled up ball of paper sprung to life), but it just rather caught me off-guard that this came up before Pike Place, the Space Needle, etc. 

Ruta (Fine Arts MA, from Lithuania) later told me that she loved listening to my presentation, because she loves "hearing me talk". I always assumed the American accent was harsh and grating sounding to the rest of the world, because, well, frankly, our vowels are very harsh and nasal, but apparently quite a few of them found my accent "cute". Hmm...

For the second day of presentations, Stephanie and Sally brought in digestives to pass around - digestives are... well... kind of cracker-y cookies, rather than really sugary cookies. Here's what wikipedia has to say. We remarked that we should do a "snack of the day" and bring in treats every time we have to come in. I mentioned that I could see if I could get American "sweets" sent over, "like Hershey's or Reeses". I was amazed to see the blank stares of confusion I got - I had to explain the concept behind a chocolate-peanut butter cup ("Like a rolo?"), and I'm not sure I fully explained it. The only people who knew any of these (Julia and I had to explain what a Kiss was!) were those who had lived abroad in the states or had travelled to them, and - while I was perfectly willing to admit that American chocolate is crap in comparison to English chocolate (and they admitted that English chocolate was far inferior to European chocolate) - I was shocked to hear that everyone thought the idea of chocolate and peanut butter was fantastically disgusting, and that Tom (who had tried Reeses) thought it tasted like vomit. :(

Having no class today, I stayed up late for a card game (Kent) tournament, after watching "Miss Potter" with Julia, and was woken up early this morning by a pounding on the door. After throwing on a sweatshirt, I opened the door to - huzzah! - James and two contractors who immediately jumped up onto my window ledge and began unscrewing the window. James had posted a notice that he would be taking a "well-deserved holiday" for the next two weeks (to which we all laughed quite heartily), so I despaired of ever getting the window fixed. That said, the squeaky, obnoxious, American wheel gets the grease, as - having put my complaint online into the system - he was eager to get it fixed before he left. I am absolutely AMAZED at how much quieter the room is, and I haven't turned any of the heaters on all day. 

I made my way back down to the post office, where I scheduled them to drop off all the boxes on Monday (when I'll be here), and trundled two home with me - the rest of my DVD's and a box of books and miscellany. Despite fearing the worst, the DVD's were all fine (actually in much better condition than the other box, with no breaks to any of the cases) - considering this box had in it Arrested Development and the West Wing, I was glad to see there were no casualties of war. Both boxes also contained some little things like magnets, my figure-drawing man, my little bocca della verita, Anne Taintor coasters, quiach, etc - the room is definitely starting to take on a more "home-y" feel. :) A bookshelf built into the wall runs all along one wall, and it just looks so terribly academic having it slowly but surely fill up with books. (Nerdy delight!)

Also in today's activities were a visit to my "local" GP (walking distance, though I'm doubting whether it's truly walking distance if you're actually sick) to get registered. Five forms, proof of identity, proof of address, blood pressure test, and urine sample later, and I hear from them in two days whether I've been accepted as a patient. Very interesting...

Made a note in my diary on the way here. Simply says: "Bugger".

"Well, quite."

I received my first box of mailed books on Monday, then nothing for Tuesday - odd, since I mailed off five boxes at the same time. Wednesday I received a note saying that I had six boxes waiting for me at the post office, since no one was here to sign for them. (grumble) Since it was after 5:30, I decided to cross my fingers that someone would be here today. No such luck. It was, however, only just 5:00, so I raced down the street to Lansdowne roundabout - obviously, there was no way I was carting six 20 lb boxes back to my flat, but I could grab one and have a movie to watch tonight. (Plus, I don't have class tomorrow, so I'll be able to be here to sign for the remaining five) Unfortunately, the crossing was not kind to DVD cases. While most are... basically unscathed, many have had massive cracks along the edges, making them unable to close, or at least with giant gaping holes along the top. I checked inside and all the DVD's seemed to have stayed in position, however, meaning that they're all still fine and watchable...

with the one notable exception of Blackadder series four - the WWI episodes. The top of the plastic case on that side was torn off entirely, making the case unable to close. This must've twisted that end of the DVD case, because the disk has been massively cracked alongside its inner ring, making it unable to even insert into a DVD player, much less play. 

The heartbreaking thing is that this is my favourite of the five disks - I honestly wouldn't have cared a whit if the first series had broken (I don't think I've ever even put it in), and while I love two, three, and five, the WWI episodes are the ones I return to again and again and again - and not just for Hugh Laurie in drag. (Although that Georgina is pretty bloody fantastic) It's not just for Darling (cue the facial twitch), for Stephan Fry's brilliant portrayal of the absolutely idiotic, not for Baldrick's cooking... or poetry ("Boom boom boom boom, boom boom boom. Boom boom boom boom, boom boom boom"), or even for the fact that for an absolutely brilliant comedy series, the ending ALWAYS makes me bawl like a baby. 

Anyway, the broken disk is sitting by itself over in the kitchen area - I don't have the heart to throw it away just yet, so it's sitting under an RIP card and my silk daffodil. 

Goodbyeeee....

 

A few updates whist I eat breakfast

For those who don't know, pretty much EVERYTHING in England shuts down on Sundays - shops are only allowed to be open for about four hours, leaving you with the choice of, say, the pubs or... the pubs after about 2PM. (Though, to be fair, the Lidl across the street was open for some time after that, as Julia and I went over and bought dinner [and some microwave popcorn and gummi bears for movie nights] ) At 4, however, I wandered over to St Peter's for Evensong - while I was disappointed that their boy's choir wasn't in singing (mmmm... boy choirs), their men's chorus was quite lovely, their choice of hymns quite nice (I actually knew one of them! Woot!), and the two readings (Proverbs and a parable from Luke) were nicely chosen and read by the Vicar. The church itself is absolutely sumptuous, with Victorian gothic-y goodness, stained glass, painted walls, gilt, and all the festoons of glory with nary a video screen to be seen. :) During the final prayer, the Vicar offered a prayer for the Americans, as [we] select our new leader - "a new leader for, well, nearly the whole world". Rather a sobering thought. I'm sorry for my flickr account not working correctly yet - I can't figure out how to specify that the pictures are meant to be public. In the meanwhile, however, the church's website has some great pictures: http://www.stpetersbournemouth.org , then go to "Gallery" - be sure to scroll to the bottom and do the 360 degree view - quite breathtaking for such a randomly placed little church.

We then wandered down to the beach to sit in the sand, people watch, and soak up the last rays of summer - the sand is phenomenally immaculate - a few sticks, some seaweed, some shells, but no miles and miles of beer cans or broken glass (or even, I was quite impressed given the number of smokers around here, cigarette butts). They have bins pretty much all over the lower gardens area, but I'm amazed to see that people actually use them.

Then, over to the movie theatre to see what was playing - it took me rather aback to see that Brideshead Revisited was still playing, and Burn After Reading was still headlining - then into the movie to see trailers rolling for movies that were "already out". Bond doesn't get here until Halloween, for example. (Of course, I make this an example, but don't actually know when it comes out over there...)

4AM

Well, nothing brings a group of people together so well as ... a 4AM fire alarm.

To be fair, while I was in my pajamas and in bed, I wasn't asleep quite yet. I'm still getting used to the various pings and creaks, as well as the drunks wandering the streets, screaming, shouting, cackling, and raucously carousing in a way that really makes me wish I had brought Frederick so that I could run them over. (Homicidal? Sure, but you'd feel the same way at 3:30AM if one of your windows didn't close all the way)

Out of nowhere, what was basically an air-raid siren went off, and I sprung out of bed in terror. First at the horrific noise, but a second later out of panic - my room is separated from the rest of the rooms by a small hallway, so it sounded like it was just sounding in my room alone. Nothing was smoking, none of the hobs were turned on, the microwave hasn't been touched, but I wondered if the excess heat from the heaters (I have to crank them to cover the cold air from the window) had triggered it. I fanned the alarm for a moment, then sucked it up, put on my coat and shoes, grabbed my purse, and wandered into the hallway, where everyone was slowly wandering down in various states of dress and bleariness. 

Turns out everyone was feeling guilty, but everyone stayed in remarkably good spirits for a 4AM wakeup - please to note that, since we none of us saw any smoke, we all just stayed inside in the main hallway - way too cold outside. When the firemen arrived, they did a quick search, then checked out the fire panel. The facts were these: right in the main hallway, there's a fire alarm button (push in case of fire) - the button is usually covered by a plastic cover... which was lying over by the window, leaving the button exposed. Someone had obviously come in and accidentally bumped into it - no burnt popcorn, no overheating heaters, nobody smoking out the upstairs window ... (wink wink) :) Best part? The main hallway has a CCTV camera, so we don't all have to pay the fine for the firemen being called.

They managed to turn off the air raid siren, but something was kind of screwy with it, leaving a 3 second interval beep, which sounds rather like submarine sonar. Unfortunately, they didn't have the key to turn it off, so we got to listen to our main hallway beeping for the rest of the night.

In not so great news... it's still beeping. Nearly 6PM later, and the beep is still there. While I'm hoping that when James (Finally!) shows up to fix the beep, he'll also bring a ladder and hammer to bump my window back into place, I'm frankly hoping that this happens sometime before, say, I graduate.  

First few days, a few more details

I'm delighted this picture came out so well - the plane ride from O'Hare to Heathrow was only about half full, so the woman sitting next to me moved further back, giving me two seats to myself on the side (she also left her pillow!) - I propped myself up against the side of the plane with my feet up on the other seat, put on some quiet instrumental music, and "slept" as well as you do on a plane. Especially after a beef and potatoes dinner that really, really didn't look or smell appetizing. (That's right, I had the lasagna) 

Breakfast, however, was fine and the view out the window as dawn broke was absolutely spectacular. 

Uh, you can just let me off here, guys. 

I should also take this moment to say that I owe England and its people massive amount of karma points, because - after retrieving my 48 lb wheeled bag and 34 lb bag (paired with my 38 lb carry-on) - at nearly any moment that I started to (I'm sure) look panicked, somebody pointed me in the right direction - and, more to the point, in many cases helped carry my bag. Being the overly cautious American abroad, I watched those bags like a hawk, but there is no way I would've made it onto, off again, down a flight of stairs, across the subway under the trains, up the stairs, back onto, then off again two different trains without a whole slew of very sweet people. (I got off the train at Reading, and saw that to get to the next train, I needed to take the downstairs subway. I'm sure I looked panicked, because one of the trainstation policeman snatched it up and carried them down the staircase, then radioed ahead to his colleague on the other side to help me back up) 

My room is actually really quite huge - I had prepared myself for a dorm room, but it's actually really quite spacious, triangular shaped, with three large windows with ledges wide enough and long enough for two to sit on quite comfortably - Julia came down last night to hang out, and we watched the drunks parade past our window. In sad news (but happy in its eventual consequences), I finally discovered that the middle-most window has it's top pane shoved out of the frame by about 3/4" - that's why my room gets so cold when the heaters turn off, and why the street outside sounds so loud. While I'm excited to get it fixed and not have to listen to the drunks at 3AM anymore, James (Halls Officer) promised he'd get to it "not today, but... um... probably tomorrow. Hmm... 

The funniest frustration that I've faced whilst being here is that, while there is a ton of shopping around, I have to actually go into the stores themselves to figure out what they sell - I look down the street for somewhere to buy toothpaste and toilet paper and see Peacocks, Wilkinsons, Boots (well, I do know that one), Barleys, etc. 

On the odd side, there is a lot of shopping, but no nearby grocery stores. The closest Tesco, Sainsbury's, and Waitrose are all far enough away that I would have to take the bus. On the plus side, I discovered on their website that Sainsbury's delivers to my post code, so I'm expecting a delivery of good old-fashioned home requirements like peanut butter, toaster waffles ("American style" no less), and microwave popcorn in about two hours. Again, like with the stores, there were very few "American" brands, so I'm going to have to do a few taste-tests to see whose I like best. 

  

Come see Bournemouth with me...

You may need to register for a Flickr account, but come follow me around Bournemouth on this lovely day... 

(More pictures to come...)

Alive and well!

(And in an internet cafe, so I'll try to keep this brief...)
Everything went well, everything went (basically) according to plan, and both plane rides were ontime - the first a few minutes early. I found my Yotel (thank God!) and was able to order my train tickets, take a very long, hot shower, and take a nap. From there, an AirRail trip, onto a train to Penzance (from which I departed at Reading [Redding] ), then a quick connect to another train to Bournemouth, finally a quick little taxi ride to my room at Bourne Chambers. I got a quick "Here's your keys", then was left on my own - my room is actually quite a bit larger than I expected - I'm quite delighted with it. :) (Pictures to come when my new battery charger is done) I went out to get my HSBC account opened, only to discover that I hadn't brought quite the right paperwork with me. So, I went back home and - after a few minutes of unpacking, then saying "Aw, screw it", went to bed at 430. (Before I get ahead of myself, there was an issue with the front door buzzer - namely, it didn't work. I had to buzz the other rooms, until I finally found someone who was in who could come get me) Around 1100, I heard a knock on the door and opened it to meet Patrick, Mia, and Julia (the girl who let me in earlier, who unfortunately was in because she has the Fresher's Flu and has been coughing blood) - all are acting students at AIB, and gave me a hearty welcome (as well as an impromtu reading from the phone book by Patrick), then invited me up to the lounge to watch "Young Frankenstein". I'm (obviously) in a good crowd. We grabbed Kieran on the top floor, then a few more wafted in and out, though by that point my brain was entirely fried and, whilst I can remember having a great time, I don't really remember a lot of it. :) Came back down and slept until noon today, when I wandered out to do some random wandering, as well as my first shopping expedition (with only two hands, I can only carry so much, so I need to pace myself) - this was for basics around the house (toilet paper, toothpaste [they confiscated mine at SeaTac! Who knew toothpaste was a liquid?!). I'm still looking for a grocery store... hmm... Unfortunately, I'm going to need an internet cable which they mention in my various school brochures are "available" - however, I suspect that means "available from the IT desk on the school campus" - where I'll be venturing tomorrow. So, I decided that, post-shopping, I would either need to find a place that sells phonecards or an internet cafe, to let everyone know I'm still alive and well.
My plan for tomorrow is to find the campus, get that cord, and (should the weather still be beautiful - it's a bit chilly, but gorgeously sunny - I took a quick jaunt down to the beach [which is just a really, really short walk away] and it is absolutely GORGEOUS! I think the closest comparison I can give is Cannon Beach, but it's also within the context of being next to a massive park of beautifully kept lawns, an aviary, art gallery, theatre on the pier, and... a mini golf course. (Woot) There's a seriously adorable little carousel on the pier-area that was playing "Get Me to the Church" as I walked past. If the weather is as pretty tomorrow, I'll try to go wandering about and get pictures. For Kristi - the town itself reminds me of the shopping areas of Cambridge.
Anywho, should be back online from the privacy of my own room tomorrow, when I can give a more detailed update without watching the clock. Lots of love!