England flashbacks.

I was living in England when I really learned what ‘torrents of rain’ meant. On the one hand, this was extremely appropriate. On the other, I was climbing uphill cobblestones in ballet flats at the time, and despite my masochistic inner satisfaction at having what I was sure was a ‘terribly English’ experience, I was also the kind of miserable that comes with a head cold, a lack of funds, and the utter certainty that absolutely everyone at your new school would much rather talk about you than to you, and even that not much at all, because you are not very interesting.

tales from the closet

These days, it seems like almost all of my best/favorite clothes are ones only appropriate to wear in the winter.

I suspect that this is partly due to a longstanding body image problem that has always flared up particularly badly in the summertime (like Regina Spektor says – summer in the city, it's “cleavage, cleavage, cleavage,” and heaven help you if you don't want strangers on the bus staring down/rating yours), and partly due to my love of wearing tights instead of pants, which I can generally only justify under sweater dresses.

...Well, I say generally. I am becoming steadily more shameless as I get older. At this point in time, for example, I have been seen publicly in sweatpants at least once. I like to think of it as half of the special secret shame shared between myself and the guy working the late shift at the 24-hour pharmacy. (The other half, of course, was the quart of Ben & Jerry's that I purchased and took home to consume by myself. You're welcome.)

how to be married to a rock star.

Sometimes I wonder how that relationship works, what with him being all British and such. I mean, middle-aged English men are not generally known for their spontaneity, public nakedness and/or other rockstar behaviors (we make special exceptions for Sir Michael Philip Jagger).

But this explains things pretty well.

http://neil-gaiman.tumblr.com/post/29335974187/portrait-of-a-marriage

4. book that makes you cry

All right, so I've put this off for long enough. Here's the next post in the on-again, off-again books series - no doubt the post that will make you all think that I am a crazy person who gets waaaaaay too attached to fictional characters. All I can say in my own defense is that this sort of thing rarely happens with me and books - I think the last time was The Hobbit, when I was, like, eight.

You suck, George.

Thursday rain

Source: pinterestschunt223.blogspot.com via Anisha on Pinterest

I'm supposed to take my siblings to a school picnic today, but judging from this morning's drizzle, I kind of doubt that's still going to happen.

It makes me miss England, though. Which, in an odd way, makes me miss all the places I want to go, but haven't been yet. Here are a few of them.

Source: kevinandamanda.com via Lauren on Pinterest

Cinque Terre, Italy

that time

It's that time again, boys and girls.
Last year, I made (and shared) some New Year's resolutions for the first time in my life. Most years, I haven't bothered, because a) my goals and desires fluctuate a lot, and b) I can't fail at something I haven't admitted to trying - right?

(One's at least an understandable excuse, but the other is just really lame. So I'm going to try not to use it anymore.)

Last post, I told you a bit about my 2011, so I won't bore you with any drawn-out reflections. But I will say that it was a pleasant surprise to look back at the resolutions I made, and realize that I may have actually sort of indirectly and occasionally succeeded in them. Here, have a look and tell me what you think.

a quick look backwards

Hello, friends!

Well, here we are, just a couple of days from 2012. I thought for awhile about trying to pull together some kind of Best-Of post, but honestly, my year wasn't nearly that simple.

I'm famous again!

Dunno if you all remember my vlogging friend Michelle, but she's posted another video from our time in London, so if you'd like to see me (complete with a weirdly deep voice that I did not know I had) and Josh talk in a semi-informed manner about English theatre, go on and have a gander. If nothing else, you can see for yourselves that some of us bloggers actually exist in real life.
Thanks for reading (viewing?)!

wait ... didn't we just do this?

I mean, I did plan this and knew full well it was coming, but the time's flown faster than I thought possible - once again, it's time for me to pack up and get ready to leave town. I've only been home for a month this time, and when I get back, it'll be a scant day and a half (if that) before I leave yet again.

Great grief.

update!

Phew… sorry about the long absence, everyone; you know how it is. End of semester, papers to write, packing to put off, last-minute shopping to do, blah blah blah. I'm taking a break from cleaning out my room now, so here's a little update on things:

1. I'm going HOME today!!!!!! 

Well, sort of. Not really today. Actually, I won't properly get there until Tuesday, if you want to get technical about it. Tonight Josh and I take the last train up to Heathrow Airport, because our plane leaves at 6AM and the trains do not run early enough for us to get there in the morning. So, that'll be fun. Wheeee, airport sleepover!

my whereabouts yesterday

It's strange, but they seem so small in real life...I could almost imagine them as sheepish, embarrassed to be so incomplete and worn down by their absolutely colossal, mystical reputation.

The "minders" at the site don't let you get much closer than this, and one must wonder why - will the stones get spooked and run away if you venture too close?

Showtime! (Part 2)

Fair warning: this blog post is TOO LONG. I've been fiddling with it for ages, and today I decided to stop stalling and just finish the silly thing, but if you, unlike myself, have NOT been writing and discussing and otherwise obsessing over Frankenstein for the last two weeks, and are not interested in reading about it, feel free to skip this post altogether. I promise not to be offended.

I'm famous!

If you're interested, my friend Michelle has made a video about the academics here in England, which you can see if you mosey on over to her blog. I helped her put it together last weekend, and she's got a bit of on-campus footage on there, too. Enjoy!

and the beat goes on...

I'd say it's time for an update, wouldn't you?

This week has been/is going to be a busy one; I'm not sure how often I'll get around to blogging about it, to be honest, so let me just give you the important bits now:

Day One: Complete!

***Almost up to date!***

Last night, I discovered that the mattress Angie put on my bed is one of those fancy mold-around-your-body, warmth-absorbent creatures. And my duvet (I’m pretty sure they call it a duvet here) is probably made of angels’ wings, because it’s just about that soft.

Trains, Planes and Taxis. Also 34 hours of travel.

I’m writing this from my home-for-five-months in England, so that all of you know that I a) am not dead or kidnapped by pirates, and b) haven’t forgotten about my blog. Again.

Anyway, to begin at departure (Thursday): Dad woke me up at 5am to tell me that it was time to go to the train station…and that there were 14 inches of snow on the ground outside. And it was still snowing. Of course, I thought, The one day we get more than six inches, and it’s the day I want to leave the country.

So. Much. Paperwork.

I am cleaning my room, reading Nathaniel Hawthorne and messing with my blog settings to avoid doing the paperwork.
Silly me; I thought it would be all done (or at least mostly done) by the time I got accepted to Kingston. Oh, no. Much more paperwork is required, once you're actually coming, than is needed just to let you try.

It's almost Christmas, dear readers, and although I'm not as much of a Scrooge as I was last year, it's still hard for me to really get into the spirit of things. This happens every year - everyone's eating cookies, watching TV specials, decorating and partying and giving to charity and I'm like, "Please leave me alone. It's cold and dark outside, and this means gloom."
Maybe part of it is that, even though the holiday is presented as sort of a happy parallel to Easter (or to Good Friday, really), I never can get over the fact that, picturesque as the Nativity scenes are, we are still remembering the birth of a God-child who was, firstly, committing the humblest, most sacrificial act imaginable by stepping down from God-ness (and the eternal companionship of the Trinity) to become a creature of breath and dust. Secondly, this child's only purpose in becoming was to die.
Did Mary actually get that, when the angel told her what was going to happen? Did it strike her, in its full weight, when He was born? Or did the knowledge sit somewhere deep inside her, mercifully muffled for thirty-three years, until her Son was tortured and hung out like so much carrion? When she faced Him then, was it the first time she had to swallow the fact that His entire life was lived for this moment?

I guess this is why Christmas isn't cute to me. Sometimes, though, it is peaceful. Thanks be to God.

33 days.

Thirty-three days. A little over a month. And then, the adventure begins.
One month, to pack, plan, buy, clean, write, send, discuss, gather, fill out, arrange, check, double-check, and wait. How did this happen so fast? I'm hardly ready. Somehow this snuck up on me. There's so much to DO - and so many people to spend time with, to invest in, to get to know (and wish I'd gotten to know better) before I leave for five months.

January 21st, we arrive in London. Before that, there's a stopover in Copenhagen, after a departure from O'Hare International in Chicago, after a five-hour train ride from St. Louis to Chicago. Two days of travel, more or less. It's going to be exhausting, but exhilarating, and even more so if no luggage gets lost along the way (fingers crossed). I'll have to train myself to take at least a few pictures. I may have to buy myself a non-antiquated digital camera, and *then* train myself to take pictures...but we'll see what Christmas brings.

Dear Lord, I'm not ready. But here it comes anyway. It's funny how we pretend time goes in a straight line, when it's perfectly obvious for things like this that it's all balled up and stretched and crazy-tangled together. Most of all, I pray that I'll put this frankly priceless month to good use, and not take it for granted.

after a year away...

So, this weekend is the big trip!

The Chicago trip, that is. Josh and I are taking the train up on Friday morning, and coming back Sunday afternoon. I have done embarrassingly little logistical planning for this weekend, but I have decided that it’ll be a good trial run for England in terms of getting poor Valentine back up to date.

Speaking of England, the last step (please oh please) of that application should be finished by tomorrow morning, when me and Josh’s passport pictures are in the mail and on their way to Montana State. After that, all that’s left to worry about is the money…as per usual.

In other news, junior year is trying to kill me. For some reason, college seems to think that just because I’ve been here for two years already, my classes should be harder. Psh.

Tonight’s itinerary:

-Alice in Wonderland sketches for JINS class

-Study Spanish vocabulary

-Hist & Lit online test

-England spreadsheet from Dad (must fill in the missing squares where there is no money. Heh.)

-McNair Program research? (Maybe, if I’m still awake.)

Thanks for reading, whoever you are.