lament of a scatter-brained english major

I spend so much time analyzing characters in novels, picking them apart: the words that they utter, the words they think, the words surrounding them, creating them.  Their actions: what they mean, why they occur, how they affect surrounding characters and why. 

I wish I could become a character in a book, my sum and substance becoming the words on the page, no more and no less.  Then someone could write a paper on me and I'd understand myself better.

my oh my an apple pie

Today Jane and I went to Central London and found an Asian food market in Chinatown that sells mochi, tofu, miso, etc. etc. etc.!  It had basically everything that the Oriental market in Salt Lake has.  I got really excited and probably overspent. 

I also stopped at Sainsbury's and got the makings for a sour cream apple pie.  My mom sent me a Christmas care package, and included a pie tin--she'd heard my woes about not being able to find one in time for Thanksgiving.  (Thanks Mom!)  So today, after finishing my paper, of course, I made pie for my flatmates.

 

After years of watching my mom's hands crimp the crust, I still can't do it like she does...

...But it tasted delicious and was a big hit!  

photos from friday

Borough Market

Me & Angeline walking back from the market

Chocolate Festival sample

With Angeline & Jane on our yummy London adventure!

"This is one of the most singular experiences, waking on what feels like a good day, preparing to work but not yet actually embarked.  At this moment there are infinite possibilities, whole hours ahead.  Her mind hums.  This morning she may penetrate the obfuscation, the clogged pipes, to reach the gold."

-Michael Cunningham, The Hours

Loving London

Today:

Tate Modern with my Art Histories class: analyzed a work which appeared to be a giant blob of grey goo oozing from a corner...a melted elephant?

Burrough Market with Angeline and Jane: 10-minute walk from the Tate.  To get there, walk down a Dickens-esque cobblestone alley.  Chicken burger, good coffee, free samples of Turkish Delight, fudge, nuts, cheese, spinach-filled pasta.

Chocolate Festival at Bankside: more free samples!

Still to come: Janette's going-away party.  Homemade Mexican food--she had to scour the whole of London to find her some quality corn tortillas.

Also, the giant white wall in my room is slowing being covered over with a collage, much of which consists of artwork made with love by my little cousin Maurea.

student protests

Students protested increased tuition fees in Parliament Square today--here are some photos.

"But she said, sitting on the bus going up Shaftesbury Avenue, she felt herself everywhere; not "here, here, here"; and she tapped the back of the seat; but everywhere.  She waved her hand, going up Shaftesbury Avenue.  She was all that.  So that to know her, or any one, one must seek out the people who completed them; even the places.  Odd affinities she had with people she had never spoken to, some woman in the street, some man behind the counter--"

-Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

Tube Talk

Seeing as it is another snowy day, and I still have a cold, and I'm not wearing any pants right now (leggings are my new favorite thing) I think it's time to offer my readers (all two of them?) some random insights about the London underground system.  I'm not sure why the above criteria justify the offering of insights--but hey, why not.

The Tube

• They really do tell you to "mind the gap" each time you step on or off the tube.  At first, I found this gentle reminder unneccessary.  There is no way someone could get their foot stuck in, much less fall into, the gap between the train and the platform--it's way too small.  However, now that I've pretty much traveled the entire underground system--well, almost--I can honestly say that there are some gaps that are definitely worth minding (i.e. Piccadilly line at Holborn station: northbound).  
• Riding the tube is a bit depressing.  I think this has a lot to do with the greyish lighting.  Also, no one speaks to any one else.  It's always a bit problematic figuring out where to look--it's so packed, but you don't want to get caught mindlessly staring at someone.  It is for this reason, I think, that most people bring reading material, or plug themselves into headphones and close their eyes or stare at the ads lining the inside of the train.  I still like to covertly watch people when I ride the tube; my favorites are the ones who read over their neighbor's shoulder.
• Tube strikes and repairs happen frequently, so you always need to be prepared for delays or figuring out alternate routes.  On the way to my Dickens City walk, someone had either fallen/been pushed/jumped in front of a train: another delay for the London underground.
• After a long day in the tunnels of the tube, your snot turns grey.  It's a fact.
• Never try to fight the doors of the train.  Unfortunately, I speak from experience...  the group I was with all made it on, and I almost made it, but the doors shut on me!  Embarrassing.  I ended up having to jump back onto the platform and wait for the next train. 
• Some of my favorite station names:  Elephant & Castle, Chancery Lane, Tottenham Court Road, Queensway, Tooting Broadway, Paddington, Piccadilly Circus, and of course my beloved local station, Mile End.

sunday

Found my London equivalent of Barnes & Noble.  Foyle's.  A  minute's walk from Tottenham Court Road station, lovely cafe crowded with clunky wooden chairs and tables and people and white cups of peppermint tea, hot chocolate topped with melting whipped cream, macchiatos and americanos.  Shared a table with a boy wearing a red sweater and a scarf; an economics student judging from the stack of books beside his laptop.  Read Mrs. Dalloway and became lost in all those streams of consciousness. 

tourist/today/turkey

 Playing Tourist

A couple weekends ago, my friend Caroline and her flatmate Audrey crashed at my flat for a night--just returning the favor from when I stayed with them in Glasgow.  I met them at the South Bank, the southern part of central London, for a ride on the London Eye.

Inside the Eye

I spy from the London Eye...

Audrey, Caroline and Eye

It cost a whopping 17 pounds for a half-hour ride.  In retrospect, I'd say it wasn't worth it except to satisfy my curiousity--now I know!

You know you're becoming a Londoner when you find yourself getting annoyed with tourists.  Central London on a Saturday is packed with them.  I decided to embrace the situation and play the part myself, phone booth pictures and all!

Today 

• Victoria & Albert Museum in the a.m. with my art histories class: possibly my favorite museum visit thus far.  I think I'll write my final essay on something in the V&A.
• Visited the monstrosity that is Harrod's; posh, expensive, endless, and wonderfully decorated for Christmas!
• Lunch with friends at a chain eatery called, appropriately enough, "EAT."  (We wanted to eat at one of the many cafes in Harrod's, but they were all too expensive!
• Took the tube to the British library.  Wandered around and checked out an exhibition about the development of the English language.  Saw an early manuscript of Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales.  Saw an early manuscript of Beowulf,  (BEOWULF!!  Yeah, we're talkin year 1000, here!) and of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.  Mind-blowing.  Beautiful.  Also saw the original manuscript of Jane Austen's Persuasion.  The exhibit went from works of art like that, to "text message poetry."  Oh, what have we become?  Lol.
• Came back, heated up some soup, ate some leftover cake, and washed the mountain of pots and pans leftover from last night, which brings me to...

Thanksgiving
 Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and although it wasn't my first Thanksgiving away from home, it was my first Thanksgiving spent in a different country--surrounded by people who don't know about the pilgrims.  The three Americans of flat 40 (Michael, Janette, and myself) were bound and determined to show our British friends what turkey day is all about.  We went on an epic trip to Sainsbury's on Wednesday evening, armed with an extensive shopping list.  I discovered that yams and pumpkin, canned or otherwise, are hard to come by in London.  I had my heart set on making an apple pie, but couldn't find a pie tin, or sour cream (my mom has a killer sour cream apple pie recipe).  I ended up getting a carrot cake from the farmer's market and topping it with cream cheese icing and pecans.  Michael used to work for a catering company, and he was so funny about getting all the preparation details perfect--he wrote out a "game plan" for us as to when everything should go in the oven, etc.  Wednesday night, Janette and I chopped up all the stuffing ingredients and iced our pretty cake.


Michael's game plan worked out perfectly on Thursday!  We had turkey, stuffing, mountains of mashed potatoes, peas/corn/carrots, rolls, gravy, and cake, plus a key lime pie and an apple tart that somebody picked up from the grocery store.  Our whole flat plus some significant others and some Thanksgiving dinner-less American friends all jammed into our kitchen to enjoy the feast.  I tripled my Grandaddy's stuffing recipe, and it was a huge hit--no leftovers in that area! 


What a great Thanksgiving, sharing a beloved tradition with new friends in London.  Nothing beats a crowded kitchen full of loud happy people and the smells of Thanksgiving dinner.  Afterward, I talked to my family in South Jordan for the first time, I think, since my first day in London.  Made me realize how blessed I am to be experiencing life in London with a loving family rooting for me on the other side of the pond.  I have much to be thankful for!

Me n Janette manning the stove

Peeling potatoes with Anthony

That's right: I stuffed the turkey!

Michael: the brains behind the operation

Trying to figure out how to carve the bird...

"What do I do with this?"

Our crowded kitchen table

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lucy & Catty at their first Thanksgiving

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

while sipping tea

"But what counts are the physical details that the novel underlines--Bronko's gnawed nails, the down on Brigd's cheeks--and also the gestures, the utensils that this person or that is handling--the meat pounder, the colander for the cress, the butter curler--so that each character already receives a first definition through this action or attribute; but then we wish to learn even more, as if the butter curler already determined the character and the fate of the person who is presented in the first chapter handling the butter curler, and as if you, Reader, were already prepared, each time that character is introduced again in the course of the novel, to cry, "Ah, that's the butter-curler one!" thus obligating the author to attribute to him acts and events in keeping with that initial butter curler."

-Italo Calvino, If on a Winter's Night a Traveller

1.  If the inhabitants of Flat 40 were characters in a novel, I'd be the cup-of-tea one.
2.  What's a butter curler, and why on earth would you need one?

reading & richmond: catching up with friends

On Saturday, I took a train to Reading, England, a town about half an hour west of London.  My friend Angelina had invited me over for the weekend.  I hadn't seen her since freshman year of university, when I attended Randolph College in Lynchburg, Virginia.  Randolph partners with the University of Reading, and sends a group of study abroaders to England every year.  They even have a couple of houses twenty minutes away from campus for their students to live in.  Had I stayed at Randolph College, rather than transferring to Westminster for my sophomore year, I'd probably be living in one of those houses right now!

So, Saturday morning I took the tube to Paddington station (which took some manuevering of routes: several lines were closed or partially closed for maintenance)  and rode from there to Reading, where Angelina met me at the station.  We hung out at her house, and I said hello to some other Randolph students who I knew from freshman year.  I helped Angelina decorate for a house party taking place that night--Star Wars themed!  We went all out, nerds that we are, and made each room into a different planet from Star Wars.  That night, everyone from the two Randolph houses plus some guests came over for the party.  There was lots of tasty food: chicken kebabs, hamburgers ("Hans" burgers...:) chocolate mousse, and more, compliments of Jill, the Randolph crew's house-mother, who lives in a small flat attached to the house.  I ate way too much food--gotta take advantage of homemade goodness when I can!  Some people went all out with costumes.  Costume parties here are called "fancy dress" parties: the first time I heard that, I thought I was supposed to turn up in a formal gown! It was nice to see everyone again, to hear what they've been up to and how Randolph College is doing.  When people began to be partied out, we watched some of the old-school Star Wars movies, which I hadn't seen in way too long.  The next morning was very laid-back: we slept in, had some breakfast and just chatted and caught up some more.

That visit brought back so many memories from Virginia.  Sunday morning, in that small house in England with only six Randolph students, I could still sense that culture of courtesy, care, and just general classiness that surrounds the women (and now men) of Randolph College.

However, I can't help but compare my study abroad experience with the setup of Randolph's study abroad program.  I'm grateful that I am living on campus, with British students, rather than off campus in a house with students from my home university.  I feel I'm getting a more "authentic" experience this way--there's not that sense of detachment. 

After lunch, I caught a train to Richmond, to meet Robin, one of the Eurolearn coordinators, and some other Eurolearn students at a little restaurant called the Giraffe.  The trainride was about an hour long, which was nice and relaxing.  I've decided train is my favorite way to travel.  It's so much nicer than the tube, where everyone seems so grey and depressed.  Plus, you get to look out the windows!  It was good to hear what everyone had been up to since we all parted ways after the Bridging Cultures program ended in September.  Most of the other students are here only for a semester, and so have been trying to squeeze in all their travel plans.  I'm glad I'm here for a year and have more time to go places and plan things--plus, I feel like I'm just now really getting settled. 

It was a good weekend!  It's nice to take time away from busy London every now and then.  I will definitely be seeing more of Reading--especially since more of my Randolph friends are flying over for spring semester!

Angelina & I: Reunited in England!

library musings

Hello from a rainy Thursday in London!

I'm currently sitting in the library waiting for a particularly violent downpour to stop before I head outside to get some lunch.   The library is surprisingly full today.  I guess I didn't realize how many people actually use reading week to read.  Now I don't feel like such a loser.

Reading week is nearly over, and I realize now I set my goals for the week way too high.  I didn't take into account the preparation needed to write four final essays: reading a 900-page novel, finding tons of secondary resources, visiting a museum and taking pictures of one artifact and contemplating its position in relation to other artifacts and the museum as a whole...etc.  However, I feel good about what I've accomplished this week: reading the 900-page novel (Dickens's Dombey and Son) and writing the accompanying essay, which I just finished, for my Dickens City module.  One thing at a time, right?

Sunday night I went to Victoria Park with some friends to see a fireworks show.  Although fireworks had been going off all weekend for Guy Fawkes Day ("Remember, remember, the fifth of November...")  this show was in remembrance of the Blitz, and started off with the sounds of air raid sirens and searchlights.  The park was packed; I think all of East London and then some were there.  There were people at all the entrance gates with buckets, collecting money for the Stairway to Heaven memorial trust.  I had no idea what that was--all it brought to mind was a Led Zeppelin song--but luckily Jersey was with me and, for some reason, knew all about it.  During WWII, the Bethnal Green tube station (which is a 10 minute walk from my campus) was used as an air raid shelter.  When anti-aircraft rockets were fired off in Victoria Park, the crowd panicked.  Someone tripped on the stairs of the station, starting a domino effect.  173 people died, and 90 were injured.  According to the memorial trust's website, it was the worst civilian disaster of the war.  It's strange to me that the site of the worst civilian disaster of WWII doesn't already have a memorial--that money is still needing to be raised.  Maybe it has something to do with it having occured in the east end--I get the feeling that it's a pretty overlooked area in general.  Anyway, the fireworks were possibly the best I've ever seen.  They were huge.  It was a little strange, watching fireworks in a coat and scarf, rather than shorts and tanktops. 

Alright, the sun is out--gotta love London's sporadic weather.  Time to seek out some lunch!

grey skies turn blue

After moving from South Jordan, to Lynchburg, to Sugarhouse, to London, I'm realizing that running in a place allows me to connect with the neighborhood in ways that, say, taking the bus/tube/car would not.  Maybe this is because I run for running's sake--I'm not trying to get somewhere, to make it someplace by a certain time; I just lace up my shoes and run.  I don't have a mileage goal or anything.  There's a rhythm and a peace that comes with running.  I feel a sense of companionship with people I pass (or maybe I should say everyone who passes me...:).  Especially on sunny days like today, when Victoria Park is filled with footballers and bicyclists, families and beloved family dogs.  Nothing beats sunny Sundays in Victoria Park.  I almost didn't go, since I looked out the window and it looked so grey outside--but by the time I made it to the park the sun was out in full force.  As I crunched my way through fall leaves, then darted across Grove Road into the second half of the park, I felt at home.

Reading Week

No classes this week at Queen Mary's: it's Reading Week, a time for responsible students to catch up on and get ahead in their coursework.  Most study abroad students use this time to travel...unfortunately, I'll be hanging around flat 40 being a responsible student.  I'm trying to clear my Christmas break of essay-writing, because I have four final essays due when the break ends in January...and I'll be doing most of my travelling over Christmas.

Yesterday:

National Gallery with my Art Histories class at 10 a.m., after which I decided to check out the National Portrait Gallery, which is right next door.  Really cool: I'd rather look at pictures of people than pictures of anything else.  There was even this exhibit of a cast of a man's face, a self portrait, which he'd made from his own blood!  It was kept in a refrigerated case.  Apparently he updates the cast every ten years or so to reflect how he's aged, and fills it with new blood.  Really fascinating, in a disturbing sort of way.  The gallery had portraits of everyone from Ian McKellen to Charlotte Bronte to Darwin (who, by the way, is on England's ten pound note) to Anna Wintour, editor-in-chief of Vogue.

Afterward, I walked around Leicester Square with my friend Angeline, who is from Singapore.  There was a mini carnival going on, with rides and games and food.  Angeline had never been to Soho, so we checked out that area as well.  Soho is pretty sketchy, actually, with lots of sex shops!  There are some fun clubs there, but I definitely wouldn't want to walk around there by myself at night.  Angeline left to go to a dance class and I got back on the tube to Mile End, to my empty flat.  I had to walk back from the station in the rain, and I whipped out my new umbrella for its first use...and the wind turned it inside out.  I think I need to invest in a quality umbrella, not a five-pound one from H&M.  Janette and I ended up going back to Leicester Square with some friends last night and catching a night bus back to campus.  All in all--umbrella excluded--it was a fun day.  Now that I've been jarred out of sleep by a Pooley House fire drill, however, it's time to crank out the essays!

orchestra

Last night the orchestra had a "gig" at St. Mary-le-Bow church, which is by St. Paul's Cathedral.  It was some kind of special service, and we combined with the choir.  The orchestra here is open to any and everyone, so the people who stick with it are really in it just for the joy of playing music and meeting other people who share that enthusiasm.  Four flautists, including myself, were there--one of them had decided that the flute players should all wear pink for the concert, and we all pulled through.  Wish I'd gotten a picture!  The acoustics in the church were amazing; we sounded like pros!  There was something awe-inspiring about the sound of singing voices in that space.  Afterward, most of us had dinner at a cafe downstairs--in the crypt!  Curry and dessert for 10 pounds: a good deal for a dinner in London.  It was a fun night.

Halloween

Can you tell who I was dressed up as??

East End Graffiti

"For alchemists the swan is the symbol for mercury.  Quicksilver imaginings.  Transmutations.  A notion laboured over with considerable energy, and buckets of paint, by the guerrilla muralist known as Sweet Toof (or the Dentist) and his associate, Cyclops.  These men track development along the inland waterways and into the Olympic Park: wherever a pseudo-wharf is laid out, a salmon-curing shed demolished, Sweet Toof will spray a graphic tribute in the form of a giant pink mouth loaded with monster molars.  His serpent forms, Mayan in ferocity, devour glitz and offer blight the kiss of life."

-Iain Sinclair, Hackney, That Rose-Red Empire

Flat 40

Blaming James?

I feel for you, Pip.

"Yet in the London streets, so crowded with people and so brilliantly lighted in the dusk of evening, there were depressing hints of reproaches for that I had put the old kitchen at home so far away..."

-Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

my birthday abroad

So, most of my 21st birthday was spent in Scotland and traveling back from Scotland...but my flatmates threw me a belated "surprise" birthday party.  They got me a cake and candles and all signed a card.  They tried to be secretive about it, they really did.  However, I happened to run into them at Sainsbury's the grocery store down the road...and then I went into Lucy's room and she had my card sitting there...and then I went into Anthony's room and he had the cake sitting there...but it was lots of fun and I felt loved.  We went to Draper's, the bar on campus, also.  Free drinks for the birthday girl!

Jersey made me wear a Birthday Girl cupcake pin all night :)

Today I had my Contemporary Writing class, which is held in a cinema down the road for some reason.  We'd read Eating Air by Pauline Melville for this week's lecture--and the author herself came to our lecture today!  I got my copy of the book signed. 

Glasgow

Friday October 15, 2010
I get out of bed at 5:00 a.m. and meet Robbie outside at 6:00.  We make our way to Mile End Station, then to Bromley-by-Bow bus stop.  It's cold outside, and gray, and I haven't had breakfast--or coffee--yet.  We wait for the bus, but it doesn't come.  Eventually, we realize that if we don't call a cab, we will miss our flight.  We call a cab.  In my anxious state, I almost climb into random man's car: the taxi company did say their car would be blue, and would pull up right next to the station...how was I to know that this guy in a blue car was not a taxi driver, but a businessman getting out to grab a free copy of the Evening Standard? 

Our cab does show up, eventually, and the driver responds to our panic at possibly missing our flight.  He steps on the gas.  I almost fall asleep in the back seat, despite the desperateness of our situation.  We run into the airport, only to find that our plane has not left, and there is, in fact, a line of waiting passengers.  We queue up and wait.  I even have time to visit the restroom.  Once on the plane, feelings of relief wash over us, making us loopy and slightly hysterical.  Robbie pulls out his ipod and we listen to "Looks Like We Made It," by Barry Manilow.  While listening, we imagine ourselves at the dark bus stop, in the taxi, running through the airport, then sitting on the plane, and we laugh and laugh.

Once in Scotland, we take a train to Caroline's school, the University of Strathclyde.  Robbie gets his book out, but I am looking out the window the entire ride, content with my grande Starbucks coffee and the views of green bordering on fall colors which flash by.  Churches and sheep and wooden fences.  The woman's voice says, "Now approaching Paisley Gilmour Street."  Paisley Gilmour--sounds like a character from a book.

Caroline meets us at the train station.  Back at her flat, she cooks us haggis and potatoes.  I am pleasantly surprised at the edibility of the meal: I always imagined haggis would be slimy, but it is the consistency of ground beef.  Caroline goes to class; Robbie and I go outside to explore Glasgow.

The air is so clean!  The streets are hilly!  The trees!  They're changing colors!  I breathe it in while I walk.  What a contrast to flat dirty (wonderful) London.  We seek out buildings seen from a distance--some are awe-inspiring close up, some are better seen from a distance.  I spot a wedding party: women in dresses, men in kilts.  We go to Kelvingrove Park, and I fall in love with the place.  Green spaces in cities are the best idea ever, and this park is phenomenal.  Fountains, concrete skate park, football, bridges, playgrounds, winding paths, squirrels, students, couples, children, chalk, crunchy leaves, view of the Harry Potter-esque University of Glasgow and the Kelvingrove museum of art.  We play Pooh Sticks, dropping sticks over the bridge, and running to the other side to see whose stick we can spy first--Robbie wins.  We go to the University of Glasgow and absorb the view and the solemn, academic atmosphere.  We walk the city: one second we're in a shopping mecca, then a financial district.  Glasgow is so small, yet so full. 

That night: ceilidh.  Scottish party with dancing and food, taking place in the 8-story student union.  Free cans of Irn Bru--everyone drinks it in Scotland--a soda drink, tastes to me like bubble gum.  Pinpoints of multicolored lights dance around the room, which is crowded and loud.  We are treated to a bagpipe concert, then a band consisting of accordian, drums, and electric guitar takes the stage and starts playing loud reckless music and instructing everyone on the intricacies of Scottish dance steps.  People are tipsy, people are sweaty, people are hopping and skipping and swinging from each others arms and using all this momentum and energy and everyone is participating and looking ridiculous and having fun.

I decline going out afterwards--I'm running on about 3 hours of sleep.  I walk back to Caroline's flat and let myself in with her keys and fall asleep on her floor.

Saturday October 16, 2010
We hit up the museums: the Kelvingrove Art Museum, and the Glasgow Museum of Modern Art.  A woman strikes up a conversatioen with me at the modern art museum in the exhibit focusing on the concept of Tomorrow.  Where will I be tomorrow?  What do I want to do in the future?  It's a thought-provoking conversation, and I appreciate it. 

We stop at an outdoor market for lunch, and I buy a kangaroo burger.  This is the trip of New Foods.  I feel only a little bit bad about eating a kangaroo: it's tasty! 

Tired of walking and absorbing culture, we sit in a pub and absorb some more culture in the form of Tennent's, a Scottish beer.  We sit there for who knows how long, enjoying the atmosphere and the company.  Our plan of smuggling out our Tennant's glasses for souveneirs is foiled when the waitress clears our glasses away, so we get some more, then forget about the plan altogether. 

Caroline's flatmates are funny: they could start their own comedy show.  I can't even tell what they are saying half the time due to their Highlander accents, but the other half makes me laugh.

Sunday October 17, 2010
We check out the cathedral and its museum, do some souveneir shopping (I need stamps for all my postcards!) and go to a local kebab place for dinner.  The trip home goes smoothly: train, then plane, then bus, then a walk back to campus.  We get back at around 2 a.m.

Cooking le Haggis

Kelvingrove park

University of Glasgow

View from the University

A street in Glasgow

At the street fair: chocolate-dipped cake n marshmallows on a stick!

Kelvingrove Museum: Caroline learns to shoot!

Robbie at the pub

Caroline and I

Museum of Modern Art

Kangaroo Burger

Kangaroo at the museum.

Inside the cathedral

Outside the cathedral museum w/coffee

Cathedral and cemetary

Sleep.

These past couple days in London have been flooded with sunshine--a welcome change from gray misty rain.  On Sunday, I went on a fantastic run in Victoria Park: I'm sure I looked a bit crazy, because I couldn't stop smiling...the sun felt so good.  Today was pretty windy, but I won't complain--the sun was still shining.  I wandered around in search of a good reading spot (currently reading Hackney, That Rose-Red Empire by Iain Sinclair for my contemporary writing class) and found myself at the Tower Hamlets Cemetary Park, right by Mile End tube station.  The cemetery opened in 1841, and became a nature reserve/park in 2001.

Graves were everywhere, popping out of the ground like crooked teeth.  Most were so old, the writing had worn away.  Although it felt slightly morbid to be reading in that environment, it was peaceful and quiet--I got lots of reading done, anyway!

On a different note, here are some of my lovely flatmates!

Erling (Norway), Michael (California), Me (Utah), Anthony (Leicester), and Lucy (Norwich)

  The above picture was taken in our kitchen, before we left to a flat party in another building.  We were supposed to dress up as "different countries," which is why Lucy looks so French!  I tried to follow the theme by wearing an Asian-looking shirt but the guys didn't even put any effort.  Missing from this picture: Jeanette from L.A., James from...somewhere in England, Catty from Sheffield, and Beth from Devon.  I'll get a good picture of everyone soon, hopefully.

Cheers!