Too much excitement, I fear.

Perhaps I shouldn't have wandered around for hours yesterday. Woke up this morning with an extremely sore throat and a painful cough.

So I've just been lazing about the place, swimming in tea to heal my aching throat. Did the laundry, made lots and lots of tea, and now am watching episodes of Fortysomething on youtube. I'll probably do a bit of reading this afternoon (I'm currently in the middle of my nearly annual reread of A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott) or maybe go shopping for condiments and notebooks. I wouldn't hold out hope for the second one, though, as I'm also sore (like, I went to Body Combat yesterday for the first time in months sore) and it seems to be flurrying out.

It seems that, after the emotional rollercoaster that is my instinctual response to Change, I am me, wherever I am. I'm anxious and ready to get to class. Yes, I'm such a nerd (I'm even wearing my glasses today!) that I am really, really excited for my classes. Being here and being able to wander around the city I've been in love with since I was 13 is excellent, of course, but that's not an everyday thing. Classes, on the other hand, are the reason I'm here. Tomorrow is Shakespeare: Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, then Thursday is On the Box: Analysing TV Texts and Friday is Genre Studies. I cannot wait.

London Calling*

London. City of my dreams, the only city I've romanticized and dreamt of living in. I'd love to wax poetic, but I may just end up translating from my journal, so this post will be a bit choppy and unrefined.

• Out of bed by 8.45, out of the house by 10.00 (making sure I had enough time to buy a London A-Z and because I didn't really know what I was doing), to Waterloo Station by 11.00.
• Wandered to the London Eye (which is even more impressive in person than I remembered it being, holyyyy) and across the bridge to Parliament and Big Ben.
  
• I ended up wandering down Whitehall (hello, Mycroft!) and found myself at Trafalgar Square. The next street over was The Strand (!!! ♥ *swoons*), so I followed that for a little while; took many a picture of theatres and The Savoy and establishments that I know of from my obsession with Victorian London. Turned down another street somewhere and...
  
• And this is where my notes/memory is fuzzy in regards to the direction I took. I can't remember which came first, Piccadilly or The West End. (Bad London fangirl.)
  
• Ended up in the West End and Piccadilly Circus.
  
• Back to Trafalgar Square (via Pall Mall, another street that gave me Victorian London fangirl shivers) for pictures, followed Whitehall again, but turned down a street to get to the Embankment, which was lovely.
  
• Back across the bridge, back to the Station (so I knew where I was. I do that a lot, follow the path I know before branching out.), and went in search of a cafe in Waterloo.
  
• Cafe del Marsh, where I had a cappuccino (to warm up) and a Mozzarella & Tomato panini. The guy behind the counter was very nice and as I was the only one in for a little while, I got to hear his conversation with his dad via skype. Then a whole bunch of regulars came in and I listened in interest. I love little coffee shops where everyone knows each other.
  
• After I brought my dishes up to the counter ("Do I bring these back to you?" / "Only if you're kind. Thank you, darling." Which made me happy. Made me wonder if people do see Americans as rude or courteous, because we have a habit of being both.), I followed the street and found a used bookshop and a vintage shop.
  
• Obviously I bought something in the bookshop, sadly nothing in the vintage shop. I almost bought another copy of The Complete Oscar Wilde, because my version doesn't have some of the short stories, but decided against it. Ended up with Red Herrings and White Elephants: The origins of the phrases we use every day.
  
• After shopping, I went back to the Station to get my bearings, then back to the Eye and then followed the walkway by the Thames to Lambeth (and, ironically enough, towards Vauxhall, which was one of the stops on my train journey). Absolutely gorgeous.
• Caught the 3.06 train back and am now uploading photos to Facebook and having tea to warm me up.

All in all, it was a lovely day. I have Mondays off, so I figure I'll go exploring a new bit each Monday. Next up, I might just be adventurous enough to make my way to the British Museum or the Sherlock Holmes Museum or Baker Street (Bus 453 to Baker Street Station, I found out) or something on my list of things to do and see.

Here, have my pictures for the day and my soundtrack for a good chunk of my exploring. It somehow makes me think of both The City and The Boyfriend.






*Unoriginal title is unoriginal

Lazy Sundays are always good, no matter what country you're in.

Today was really chill and relaxing. I lounged about this morning, went out for an hour, came back and wrote some, then had Sunday Dinner with my host family and Skyped with my parents. Am now watching Sherlock and writing this.

To be fair, I was using today as a recharge day. Yesterday got me a bit sick and tomorrow I am heading into Central London to wander around until I get tired or my feet start aching, whichever comes first. So I will need my strength.

Here, have the song I was listening to on repeat during my walk around today. (Yes, it's Johnny Cash, dad. :P )

Tea with the Queen

Or not. Windsor Castle trip was today and sadly, the Queen was not in attendance. What a gorgeous, gorgeous place. Everything is lush and lavish and sparkling.

When I was little, I wanted to be a princess. I had princess dresses and tiaras and my daddy even told me bedtime stories about Princess Victoria, who was no ordinary princess. Ever read the Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine? It's a kid's book, so probably not, but that's the sort of princess I was. I fought bad dragons with my good dragon friend (Silverbell, I think?) and my sword (Ever Victorious, the same as the sword my daddy has in our front room) and my best friend who just happened to be a polar bear named Hot Dog (don't ask, I was little and daddy let me name some of them). But I do love shiny things and Windsor did not disappoint. Also, all the statues of Queen Victoria and references to her made me a very happy girl indeed.

I'm going to be boring* and stay in tonight. It was very cold out and my feet are sore and I guess I can only take so much socialization and exploration a day. I'll probably go explore Berrylands tomorrow, see if I can put money on my Oyster card that came in the mail last night, plan my trip to Central London. (I'll probably just stay around Waterloo, since there's enough to do there to keep me occupied while I get my bearings, and then research how to get to the other things I want to do for later on, when it's warmer.)

Today's pictures!

*I don't actually think I'm boring. I think I'm pretty awesome, honestly. I'm doing more things than I have in ages and I think I'm fairly intelligent and interesting. But I know that in comparison to other 20 year olds, I'm boring and bland. Just because I don't like to party. Whatever, I make my own enjoyment and I have been enjoying it, actually.

I've been listening to too much Blues

Today was good. Mostly.

I got up on time, had breakfast (peanut butter toast! Reminds me of home.) and tea and got out of the house by 10.30. I got to Kingston by 11 and wandered around Kingston for three hours. I found the Library, the Museum, a bunch of good shops and restaurants and had a walk on the River Thames. I was...so at peace. It was so lovely. Just me and the city and finding my way around and it was a nice day on the banks of the Thames. I couldn't help the disbelieving giggles that found their way out of my throat because I'm sitting on the banks of the Thames, a twenty minute ride from Central London. It's a dream come true, truly.

C. says I should pop in on my own. I wanted to go on Monday, but apparently it's going to snow. Maybe Tuesday, then. Bri said she'd go with me, but I kind of want to go on my own because what I found out tonight, after I went out with Bri and another girl was that I feel the sadness most keenly when I'm with other people.

My grandfather died earlier today. He suffered from Alzheimer's, had done for years and years, and it's a blessing, really. It wasn't right, how he was surviving. I say surviving, because it wasn't living, and surviving only barely. But I got an email from my dad while I was uploading photos and a Skype call from my mom while I was getting ready to go out. And I was talking to Danes at the same time and I actually felt good about my life, how I was finally going out on a Friday night in the city I just spent the day learning.

But now that I'm back, it hurts. I like Bri and her friend, but--I wish it was Danes and Katie and Kristina and Jules and my parents so I could hug my daddy.

I'll get lonely by the end, but I think I'm best on my own. That way I don't wish the people I'm with (nice people that I really like) are someone else.

Here are my pictures from the day. I have, in fact, found the red phonebox sculpture Ian was talking about, but they're not uploaded yet. I will do, but I've got my mandatory study abroad kids trip to Windsor Castle tomorrow.

Whiny Post Ahead, with a Side of Attempt at Independence.

Everyone keeps telling me to bring a friend to go to London, instead of just popping in by myself. And I get it, it's for safety's sake. I do understand that. But.

If I waited for friends to keep me company, I'd never do anything. And I think that may be my problem. I'm trying to do things myself. Be my own person. Things like that. And if I waited until I made friends with people in my classes, it'd be April break until I made it to Central London.

I want to do this and I want to do it now. If not now, when. I'm getting antsy. I want to see the reason I wanted to be here in the first place. Kingston, Surbiton, Berrylands, they're all nice. But they're not London Proper. That's where my dream is. Not here, which is slightly bigger than Geneseo.

Maybe I've been reading Gala Darling too much. She's utterly fearless; she moved from New Zealand to New York with and without her boyfriend. She was only in her early 20s at the time, I believe. I'll never be an International Playgirl (TM) like her, but she's good inspiration. Her article Loving a New City: Alone has been pushing me to do things. But now this. I feel so stupid about this morning/afternoon and I want to remedy it. And honestly, I think I could see a lot more that I want to see if I go by myself.

Welp. This is an interesting day already.

I signed up for that trip around Central London, right? And I set my alarm for 8:30 our time so I could have a cup of tea and then get to the train station on time for 11:20, right? And it starts at 13:00 our time, right? And it was supposed to be rainy but it's an absolutely lovely day, right?

Yeah, well, it's 10 to 1 and I just woke up. Excuse my French, but goddammit! I was really, really, really looking forward to it. Sigh. Guess I'll just have to go by myself. Maybe tomorrow or Monday, since I have no classes on Monday?

More new things!

This morning wasn't that gross, so I decided to walk from my house to uni. 35 minutes, just about. This is new because I can't even be bothered to walk from the townhouses to North Side to see Danes. But I think I shall do that quite often npw. It's a nice walk through the suburb-looking neighborhoods and then down into Kingston. I listened to about 1 1/2 CP episodes (20 minutes each) and enjoyed myself quite a bit, even though I was a little worried on time and I got kind of sweaty.

Then I listened to a three hour lecture of Dos and Don'ts whilst at Kingston. Some of it was useful, some of it was interesting, and the rest of it was boring. But I hung out with the girl I met in the taxi, who was on my flight from Iceland to Heathrow. She's actually from UNC Charlotte, Katie, so maybe you'd know her, idk. She was sitting with this Australian girl she'd just met...who happened to know this other Australian girl who was sitting in front of us. So the four of us made plans to go to lunch and Bri, the first girl, brought her other friend from UNCC with her.

So the five of us wandered around Kingston and decided to go to this pub called the Druid's Head. It is a very good pub and nearby a decidedly Irish pub, so mum, I think you'll like Market Place. We hung out, had a bit of conversation, and I ordered a hard cider (exciting for an American 20 year old) and Chicken Tikka Curry. Both were very yummy, the atmosphere was nice, the company was very good.

When we left, I decided to head back to my house, as I wanted to go shopping this evening. But then C. told me about grocery delivery and I was very, very excited, so I got my laptop instead of going out. I should've just gone walking because the Tesco's online thing didn't work out. Sad. So I'm ordering a pizza tonight and doing shopping on Friday, because I've got my Central London Walking Tour tomorrow. (All cheer!)

I'll probably upload the photos I took today in a bit. It depends, as I still need food and I have a skype date with Danes.

What an adventure!

I've had an interesting day and it's not even half three as I type this. (Oops, now it's gone four. But still. My point is, I've had an interesting 20 hours.)

Last night, after my happy settling in post, I had a breakdown in the shower, skyped with my mum, and then had a bit of a panic because thought I'd lost my passport and extra money. I misplaced it and had the entire family tearing the house apart looking for it and--it was in the back zippered pocket of the bag, in a place where I never put anything, ever. Once I had calmed down, honestly my brain was torn between, "I'm a moron" and "This is really not the impression I was hoping to make." Luckily, they still seem to like me.

This morning was okay. Had a morning tea and cereal and caught the bus to campus. This is particularly exciting for me as, where I come from, I'd never really used public transport. We've always had a car available and at 'seo, well, I dislike using the bus. Not sure why I like it better here than there. Mostly because the bus here is needed to get to where I need to go, whereas at school, I can't be bothered to go up to Weggies and Walmart on my own when we go every week in one of my housemates' cars. Meh.

BUT, here. Well. Let's just say that after today, I am very comfortable with using the bus. (And I've just applied for an Oyster card because, after today, I need it.) All because I needed to pop back home to get my passport for enrollment.

It all started when I took the wrong bus. Got a bus tour around Kingston, though, which was nice. Ended up at Kingston Hospital, took another bus back, got off at Surbiton Station. I don't have a map of my area (bad plan, V. Bad planning.), but a tiny map of the Berrylands, which is actually where my house is. I decided, hey, I've got a few hours, let's just pick a direction and start walking. I'm bound to find it eventually and if not, well, at least I'll get a nice tour of the area.

Yeah, and hour and a half long tour of Surbiton and a couple places that were either SurbitonANDKingston or neither. Well, I was on the right track when I decided to ask a nice man for some help. I'm confident I would've found it eventually, because I was literally standing at the street I needed to go down to turn down another street to get to the street that would lead to a street that led directly to my house, but he was very nice indeed and gave me nice, you're a lost tourist, aren't you directions.

So, after wandering around my adorable little English suburb (I found the local pub, yay!), I finally get home. And then I had to go back to campus to finish enrolling. And so I took the bus both ways.

My father challenged me before I left. "Do at least one new thing every day," he said. So, dad, does wandering around Kingston, Surbiton, and Berrylands count as three separate things or only one new thing?

And a hearty hello from England!

I am currently nestled in the living room at my home in Surbiton, watching a cooking show with Mrs. H., my host matriarch (though she prefers to be known by her first name, so C. shall do) and I am, to use a word, knackered. I think I got a total of three hours of sleep during the whole two flights. Partly because I was feeling nauseous and actually got sick whilst in Iceland. I'm much better now, after a cuppa (a proper English cuppa! Oh, now I'm just being silly.) and a chance to calm down.

Things are exciting. But it's a bit too much right now; I'm definitely overwhelmed by all the knowledge they're throwing at us on a now-empty stomach and a very tired brain. Not to mention the fact that I'm bad at change, period. I get sad moving from one part of the state to the other and back and forth during college. This is, well, across the bloody pond. With no one I love around me. I don't like it, but I'm not thinking about it much because if I think about it, I will cry and crying in front of my host family is not the best impression.

However, remember that radio comedy show I mentioned last post? Well, I really like it and things just keep reminding me of it. My favorite character (the one voiced by that I actor I really like) lives in the attic of student housing for the local college. My room is an adorable attic, painted light blue with a fairy picture at the side. Come to think of it, it's more like Jo March's writing garret than Martin's tiny attic room. I can deal with having a writing garret for a room.

And I just had my first Jammie Dodger. Gotta love my silly obsession with British television. (Doctor Who reference for those who watch. xD) Ah, I'm going to go watch Celebrity Big Brother with them.

I think I'm going to like it here.

Hello from Iceland!

My internal clock (and my computer backs me up on this) says it's 2:12 am, but not here in Reykjavik. It's about 7:20 am here, still dark, still chilly.

Not much is happening in my little brain. I don't have full brainpower, running on stolen moments of sleep, which might be a problem when it comes to talking to Customs and getting my Visa in a few hours, but I've got Icelandic coffee and a favorite actor of mine reading an audiobook in my ear, so I should be awake by the time I get to Heathrow.

Sidenote of amusement to me: I like a comedy radio show called Cabin Pressure, which is about the antics of a charter jet crew, starring that actor I mentioned. Well, one of the less-good episodes (they're all good, but some are better than others) is entitled Boston and the story takes place in the air between, get this, Boston and Reykjavik. This amused me when it came on my iPod earlier.

his perfectly sums up my feelings on my last day at home.

“There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it.” -- Charles Dudley Warner

"Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers. The mind can never break off from the journey."

-Pat Conroy

Past Tense, Future Tense

I've checked almost everything off my To Do list; I've purchased things I need (a bag as a carry-on and for school, a camera) and things I want (heeled oxfords, swoon!); I'm doing laundry tonight and packing tomorrow, after a haircut. It's really happening.

With this trip coming fast, and my boyfriend graduating this semester, and my obsession with Victorian England, Time and Change are two Big Concepts that have been popping up a lot. My current read The Sherlockian by Graham Moore--which is a great book and I highly recommend it--has further fueled my churning brain regarding those Big Concepts.

The chapter I just read sees Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Bram Stoker discussing Oscar Wilde's death late in 1900. Those who know me will know the cast of characters alone holds a special appeal, and their topic of conversation--the end of one era and the beginning of another--is one I find particularly compelling right now.

My world is tilting on its axis. A silly phrase, to be sure, since that is what the world always does and always has done and always will do, but to quote from the very first Doctor Who episode I saw, "It's like when you're a kid, the first time they tell you that the world is turning and you just can't quite believe it 'cause everything looks like it's standing still." It's that moment of awareness. I am becoming so very aware of the possibilities, of the "palpability of history." (pg 281 in The Sherlockian) This trip will become old, faded pages in my journal, hazy memories, something for the scrapbook to show my future progeny and hopefully instill the same curiosity and thread of wanderlust in them. But for now, it is real, palpable, my present and future life. What is future soon enough becomes past.

And now that I'm done with my overdramatic ramblings, I have a skype date with Danes, who is already at school. (Danes is codename for my boyfriend; I'd explain it but, unfortunately, the explanation itself will tell you exactly what his name is. It's so entertaining I just couldn't resist, even though it's a bad codename.)

Kingston: T-Minus Two Weeks

So, I’ve only just now been doing research on my home for the next sixth months. I blame finals and holidays and a trip to Buffalo to see my boyfriend and—well, to be honest, it just hasn’t hit me yet. And for a while, I didn’t want it to. As I’ve said before, it’s scary. I had a lot to do around finals, what with lots of paperwork to catch up on, and then my best friend, who had gotten to a school a couple hours away from Kingston, couldn’t go for various reasons. Emotions were high and I didn’t want to focus on it, because if I did, I’d freak out. I’m leaving my family and my friends and my boyfriend who is graduating. It’s scary and at the time, I wasn’t ready to think about it.

But now, it’s exciting. Still nerve-wracking, in that way that living on your own in a new city that is 6 hours away by plane is.

I will be studying at Kingston University, in Kingston-upon-Thames, which is about 20 miles to the southwest of London, on the banks of the river Thames. (I bet you guessed that all on your own, though, what with the name and all.) Oddly enough, Kingston does not have any anthropology classes. Strange that an anthropology major like myself would choose it. Silly me, I didn’t check the classes before I applied and then I got in and then there were no anthro courses. Sad. But it’s a good thing that I’m on track to graduate, because, according to my advisor, I can take anything I want and I’ll be solid. All the classes I need, I can take senior year when I get back. And so, I went nuts tearing through the English Lit/Language and the TV and Film Studies classes. (The former because, if I didn’t choose anthro, I would definitely be a Lit major and the latter because I love tv/film and because I’m very interested in the anthropology of media. So.) I’m not sure what I’ll actually be taking, as we can’t sign up for classes until orientation week, but I’ve been approved to take a Shakespeare class, an English class on Genre Studies, a class on British television, and an Arabic class. (I just got the paperwork I need to fill in to take said Arabic class; and I need to put in a second choice language, so I may actually be taking a French class. We’ll see.)

Two weeks from today, I will be arriving at Heathrow and then chauffeured to the family I’ll be staying with in Surbiton. I’ve emailed with the lady of the house and she seems very nice; they’ve had students before and loved it, so they’re prepared and I’m still a little unclear about how it’s all going to work, but I’m positive. Apparently the husband works from home and they have two girls who are about the same ages as my cousins. After emailing with her, I felt a lot more relaxed about the whole thing, and so did my mum.

And that’s really all I know. I shall fill you in when I learn more, which will most likely be when I show up in a fortnight. (Eeeep!)