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?