History Lesson: World War I and Britain

I feel like I use my journalism degree all the time, but my history degree less often. I chose it as my major in high school and never wavered from it. Always a passion, it was also going to help me get into law school, but in the end just made me happy. Now, on occasion, and maybe only just for me, I want to use it.

In the course of my history education, from grade school through college, more time was always spent on America's role in, and the general impact of, World War II than on World War I. In my experience it was just never discussed and analyzed as much. And by comparison's sake, I don't really think we were impacted the same way in terms of resources and personnel. Why we were fighting WWII was also more clear: in the simplest form, it was because of Pearl Harbor. While WWI, in its simplest form, began with the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. And in 1914, and even today, not sure how much effect the death of an Austrian has on America.

The memorial to the residents of D.C. who fought in WWI.
The only WWI memorial on the Mall.

I began thinking of all this because the last British combat veteran of WWI recently died. Just several months after the last American veteran died. My knowledge of WWI finally went beyond what I learned from "All Quiet on the Western Front" and that awful scene in "Legends of the Fall," when I took a British history course my junior year of college. (Which was actually not a good class in large part due to a sub par professor, who happened to be a Duke grad. I'm not saying that was the reason he wasn't a good professor.)

But the one thing -- literally the one thing -- I remember from the course textbook was the effect the Great War had on Great Britain. They gave so many of their young men to The Cause that they effectively lost the equivalent of a generation's worth of leaders. Potential leaders in science, industry, literature, business, and politics -- gone. That still astounds me. Now, they've managed to do pretty well since then and not to be obvious, but it did let some females step up to the plate, too. (Hello, Margaret Thatcher.) But who knows what may have been achieved. What disease cured? What groundbreaking business formed? What literary masterpiece written? What world leader launched?

The summer after taking the course I went to London for summer school. The scars of the Second World War are everywhere, from the singed dome of St. Paul's to a plaque on a building explaining how it was rebuilt after the Blitz. But WWI and its effects are still seen, too, like in the Imperial War Museum.

I loved this museum not just because I love history, but because it was the first museum I visited where "home front" wasn't in reference to America. It presented the view of wars I thought I knew so much about, from a completely different perspective. And through each floor of exhibits, my earth shifted a little each time I saw the word "home," and knew it wasn't the home I knew. At one point you can step through a mock up of a trench. (Trench warfare is one of the most lasting legacies of the conflict.) While I'm sure the mock trench was nothing like the real thing, it still made its point: dark, tight, loud, and even smelly. An entire generation lost in these trenches, so far from their own home fronts? It is still unfathomable.

Today in Britain, veterans of all conflicts are remembered each November with remembrance poppies, which began as a way to honor the Great War's fallen. When I moved back to England after college, I was there for Remembrance Day and felt like the city was awash in paper poppies, including these outside Westminster Abbey. Resiliency, recovery, and remembrance, that's the British way.

One of my most favorite scenese from an episode of "Doctor Who" covers a lot of these points. (What could be more British than that?) It beautifully shows the sacrifices asked of the young men of Britain at that time, the hell they went through, and how they came out on the other side. (And the young man happens to be Sam from "Love Actually.")

It was to be "the war to end all wars." Oh how we all wish that were the case, that the 20th and 21st centuries weren't riddled with conflict after conflict after conflict. Especially as we've been fighting our own wars for a decade now. When all is said and done we don't yet know the final death toll, the final footprint on history. 100 years from now there will be an obituary on the last surviving member of Operation Iraqi Freedom, and who knows what his or her legacy will entail.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

-Laurence Binyon

London Calling, Literally

There have been some changes at my work in the past month, one of which is that we now get paid twice a month instead of just once. In other words, I guess I'm like the 99% of the rest of the world and their bi-monthly pay schedule. Boring. The thing is, I complained about it often the past two years. Like when it got down to the end of the month and I had to choose between eating, and not eating. But now, of course, I actually miss getting just the one lump sum at the beginning. The grass is always greener...

So Friday was payday which in my world, no matter how hard I try to fight it, always means shopping! Though I did fight it Friday, at least. I was ready to head to Target after work for some true necessities -- seriously, like laundry detergent and face wash -- but then I got sidetracked by happy hour which got a bit too happy. And as much fun as it might be to shop at Target tipsy, I headed home instead. Which was probably a good idea since when I went Saturday they had something like this:


A foot-tall London phone booth replica. Had I gone Friday after two glasses of wine, you know I would be the proud owner of one. I still might be the proud owner, actually, because I think it's quite cute. Except what I'm really holding out for is the real thing, a la How I Met Your Mother.


They say landlines are dead, and I don't have one now, but if I had this, well actually, I still wouldn't have a landline. But I would just sit inside with my cell phone and be happy. Because London phone booths make me very happy.

Requisite tourist shot. London 2005.

Day 170: "Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain." (Anonymous)

Today was one of those days where I felt like I had been spinning around in a circle, and then came to a sudden, dizzying halt, while everything else kept whirling around me and I tried frantically to regain my balance and breath.

I am a big believer in rain as a purifier, as a rejuvenator. So when it started to lightly rain on my walk from work to the metro, I let it hit me. I left my umbrella in the bag and soaked it up. I enjoyed a walk in the rain.

By the time I got to just across from the metro, it was coming down so hard it appeared to be raining up from the road. I had fears that maybe my two white shirts would be the same as one white shirt and I'd be arrested for indecent exposure. (I wasn't, the two white shirts were equal to one dark shirt.)

Caught up in my act of spontaneity, I didn't consider having to wear wet clothes on the ACed metro, or what I would look like when my very non-waterproof mascara started to melt.

And I didn't care. I saw this just beyond the airport, over the river, and it's all I needed:
(Not my picture, taken from Flickr. I saw them from a different angle, thicker, closer up. Stunning.)

It reminds me of the last double rainbow I saw, almost exactly three years ago, in England:

And the really cool part is, that Mom saw the Washington rainbow on the national news, around the same time I saw it in real life.

"The true harvest of my life is intangible - a little star dust caught, a portion of the rainbow I have clutched."
-Henry David Thoreau

All good things must come to an end

Today I started my last week of work. It feels...weird. Like it won't actually hit me until it comes to 6:00 on Friday and I have to log off my computer and turn in my security pass. I wasn't expecting to be sad about leaving. London and work. London because before I came here, to be honest, I only liked it, I didn't love it. I spent a great four weeks here, yes, but I also spent great times in Italy and Spain and Salzburg, among other places too of course. Now, however, I LOVE it. I want to see everything, want to read everything, want to go everywhere. I fit here, I was happy here. I'm really going to miss it.

As for work, I'll miss the people. I've said over and over that the job isn't glamorous, it's tedious and frustrating, but the people make it worth it. They're nice and respect me. And it has been inspiring to be in such a creative environment with such talented and passionate people.

When all is said and done I shouldn't be surprised that it will be hard to leave work, hard to leave my shitty flat, hard to leave London. Six months of a life is a long time, so of course it's going to be hard to walk away. But I will walk away knowing that I have more strength and courage in me than I ever thought possible. I still have a long way to go but I am much better prepared now than I was in September.

I believe with all my heart that everything happens for a reason, and every step I took here has a purpose, is pushing me toward something else, is playing a vital part in who I'm supposed to be. I know that I'm supposed to be a writer, I know that I'm supposed to travel and see and do amazing things. I know that I can do things on my own, that I can make it. But then I know that no matter where I go my family and friends are always right there beside me. This I think I am more sure of than anything. Before I left I was afraid my friends wouldn't need me anymore, that my family would realize things could be easier. But I don't think this is the case. And I couldn't be more estatic, couldn't be more grateful.

I'll finish up my week here, which if Monday is to be the preview, will be absolutely mad. But that's ok. Sunday I am off to Lanzarote, Canary Islands. I had the strangest urge to go lie on a beach, so that's what I'm going to do. It is all very last minute, very spontaneous, very not-me, but I'm excited. I'll be there until Thursday and then I am back home to sweet Carolina on March 9.

I'll try to update a few more times, but no guarantees depending on how work goes and what my Internet access is like next week. But thanks for reading and commenting and supporting me, it means a lot.

"London goes beyond any boundary or convention. It contains every wish or word ever spoken, every action or gesture ever made, every harsh or noble statement ever expressed. It is illimitable. It is Infinite London."
-Peter Ackroyd

Lights, camera, action!

On Sunday I went and stood outside for 2 hours in Covent Garden, at the end of the red carpet, to watch the celebrities arrive for the BAFTAs, the British version of the Oscars.

I saw:
-Sienna Miller
-Judi Dench
-Helen Mirren
-Ricky Gervais
-Jake Gyllenhaal
-Daniel Craig
-Forrest Whitaker
-Thandie Newton (only realized later when I looked up pictures of dresses online)
-Ruby Wax (The UK's Joan Rivers)
-Penelope Cruz
-Pedro Aldomovar

My favorite was Jake, because he saw all of us standing outside and waved and made a funny face. I think I saw Helen Mirren and Judi Dench the clearest because I could see them walking down the carpet toward us before they went in. Helen Mirren is absolutely regal in person. Sienna is tiny, and Daniel is very stiff. (I don't care for either of them so I may be biased.)

Even though I couldn't see them very well, and there was a big group of people, plus a blocked-off street separating us, it was a lot of fun and I'm glad I went. It was thrilling to hear the paparazzi call names - no idea what they said though - and see the flashbulbs go off, and then wait too see who was next. Because of the way we were positioned we were right near one of the entrance doors, and once inside they had to stop and pose, right in front of a big picture window facing us. Thus I got to see their backs a lot clearer than their fronts! I think I saw some other people too, but have been unable to find decent pictures online as of yet to figure out who.

I know there were a lot more famous people there, obviously, and someone saw Daniel Radcliffe get out of a limo, but between all the staff and the distance, this was all I managed to see. No pictures of them, as it was all too quick, but I do have some pictures of the red carpet and such I can post later. Something interesting that I did not know, was that the lights on the beams above the carpet, were ones that flashed, like flashbulbs, so it made it look like there were pictures being taken constantly. I don't know if it is always like this at award shows, but it added to the excitement. (And hurt my eyes after awhile.)

...And somewhere men are laughing, and little children grin, but there is no joy in K-ville - for DUKE HAS LOST AGAIN - DTH Cartoon

This post brought to you by 79 - 73. By Wes and Tyler and Reyshawn and Marcus and Bobby and on and on and on. By Paulus fouling out and Cameron Crazies not so crazy anymore. By being woken up by a phone call at 4 a.m. and lying in bed for an hour, grinning, and maybe even crying a little because I've never felt so close, and so far, from the things I love before.

A sample of the phone call I got from Mom, per my request, when she called to tell me the score:
Mom: Are you lying down?
Me: (Thinking: seriously, it's 4 a.m., of course I'm lying down!)
Mom: Because you aren't going to like this...
Me: Oh no...
Mom: WE WON BY SIX POINTS!!!!

Cruel Mom, cruel. But my own fault because I forgot to tell you I just wanted a "yes" or "no," playing with my emotions in the middle of the night is just wrong! But it's ok, because I'm not sure how many other mothers would make a trans-Atlantic phone call just to relay the score of a basketball game to their daughter. Love you! :-)

The worst part about being in London yesterday? Everyone was just walking around like it was a normal day. Talking about the weather and their jobs like it was just any other Wednesday. Whereas I, specifically decked out in a Carolina blue shirt, Carolina ring and bracelet, and my lucky Carolina blue socks, could barely sit still. Kept checking every sports site I could think of to see what they were saying. Kept going back and forth with friends over how much we hate Duke - a topic that can never be exhausted, and always brings forth previously un-explored reasons. To everyone else it may have just been a normal day, but we know better. :-)

In honor of last night's win, some pictures from the last Franklin Street celebration I took part in. From a night where four girls got the best senior gift ever - in the form of a Cameron Indoor win and a crying J.J. Redick. From the best senior night ever - for us.


Tar Heel "crazies"


View of a bonfire from Top of the Hill.


Close-up of fire - because of course, beat Duke, build fire.


NSATC on top of the world - or at least Chapel Hill.

God bless those Tar Heel boys...

You scream, I scream, we all scream "BISCUITS!"

Before I reveal the results of my great biscuit search, I have to relay a conversation I had with two New Zealanders and a Briton at our work party last week about what an American biscuit is. It basically went like this:
Me: It’s a biscuit! A biscuit! Doughey and soft and buttery and like Heaven!
Not me: So it’s like a scone?
Me: No, it’s a biscuit!
Not me: Like a biscuit biscuit?
Me: No, a biscuit is a cookie. It’s an American biscuit. It’s Bojangles!
Not me: What’s Bojangles?
Me: (Blank stare as I really don’t even know where to begin to describe Bojangles.)
Not me #2: They’re made with yeast and you put butter and jam on them.
Not me: Like a scone?
Me: No! Like Heaven!
It went around like this for awhile, throwing out the words “biscuit,” “scone,” and “cookie” way too often. I should add that at this point we had all partaken of the special punch at the work party, so none of us were at our sharpest. Hence my inability to describe it other than repeatedly saying “It’s a biscuit!,” and them not being able to move past “Like a scone?” And to anyone wondering, no, they aren’t like scones, in my opinion the two are like apples and oranges.

After deciding on Friday that I HAD to have a biscuit, I searched on the Internet off and on at work for the rest of the day for a place where I could find it. I looked up multiple American restaurants in London I had heard of, and some I hadn’t, scoured menus, and found nothing. I finally did a search for “American biscuits in London,” which I think sounds like a great play or movie that I would definitely see, and came across another girl’s blog who had engaged in a similar search when she first came here. After reading through many comments, most having to deal with buttermilk, which doesn’t concern me as I have the mix, it’s the working oven I don’t have – sidenote: bastard landlord! – I found one comment that recommended Irish soda farls, which he said were similar to biscuits. Saturday while in Bloomsbury I picked up some of this bread at Waitrose, and for breakfast Sunday tried it. I warmed it on the frying pan a bit, added butter, and dove in. It’s the closest thing I’ve had to a biscuit while here, but still not good enough. It had a funny aftertaste, but wasn’t unbearable and I won’t have any trouble eating the rest of it. I had very little butter that morning and I think adding more will help as it was lacking a bit in flavor. But I think the biggest factor was that as I ate it, I just kept imagining it was a Bojangles buttery biscuit, and that helped. And made it, and me, infinitely sadder as well.

And on a completely unrelated note, GO TO HELL DUKE, GO HEELS!!!!!!!!!

I'm going to Disney World!

Not even sure they do the Disney World commercials anymore, they didn't show it here, but it has always been my favorite part, so they should!

Watching the Super Bowl in another country was interesting, to say the least.

Anyway, I kept myself busy until 10:45 when a British announcer, broadcasting live from Miami, came on the air with one American football co-announcer, and one football co-announcer. (No idea who either of them were.) The highlight of the pre-show was hearing the man refer to the locker room as a “dressing room,” and talking about the need to replace the divets on the field after the Cirque de Soleil performance. I pretty much muted the TV any other time they came on, just not in the mood for announcers apparently. Though I should add that the play-by-play was done by two American announcer, Sterling Sharpe and someone else. (Not Shannon Sharpe like I thought, though I swear he sounded just like him.) Perhaps the main reason I decided to mute it was because even the Brit introduced Dan Marino as “perhaps the greatest quarterback to never win a Super Bowl.” Grr! Two continents feel the need to declare this every chance they get! Ahh!

For the majority of the game I sort of kept forgetting I was watching the Super Bowl, kept forgetting this was IT. I think it’s because I haven’t seen any games this season, and stopped following the season pretty much as soon as basketball started up. I knew even less of the players than I normally do, which is a combination of the fact that no one ever seems to play on the same team for more than two seasons, and because I’ve been out of commission this year. The hardest part was being quiet for the benefit of my flatmates, which is excruciatingly hard, as I realized just how vocal I like to be when the opening kickoff was returned for a touchdown. I yelled “No no no!” quite loudly before I stopped myself and just cursed under my breath for a bit.

I found myself dragging about halfway through the second quarter, but started reading a book and by the time halftime was over – which I’ll be honest, I muted – I was far more interested in the game and excited at the prospect of all of Peyton’s naysayers finally shutting up, for now at least. When you see the pictures below you may think me pathetic or sad, having a Super Bowl party for one, but you know what, I looked forward to it all day Sunday, actually, I’ve been looking forward to it since the two teams were decided, and shopping for munchies, laying it all out, and settling in for the night was fun and made me happy. So pathetic or not, I don’t think it matters.

I didn’t really mind missing the commercials, I think it made the game go faster and I can always catch them on YouTube. I did mute Prince’s performance because I just wasn’t in the mood. But I think it’s funny how all the articles I have been reading are exclaiming over the fact that he sang “Purple Rain” – in the rain. Wow, sensational! Now I’d have been impressed had he been able to make it rain purple rain. Then maybe I would have turned the volume back up.

Monday wasn’t pleasant to say the least. Five cups of tea and at 3:00 I still had to fight to keep my head off the desk. (I did succumb, while in the sequestered filing room, to closing my eyes and leaning against the filing cabinet for a minute, but luckily a co-worker came in to talk to me and keep me awake.) But it’s ok because I am a sucker for good stories, and not many are better than Peyton and Dungy finally getting their rings, Carolina boys Saturday and Reid getting ones too, and all the other players who were crying and kissing the trophy that make me not hate athletes quite so much. I am now thinking that this last sentence, and after staying up half the night before I need to work the next day, means I am officially no longer allowed to repeatedly proclaim my hatred for sports. (I was already beginning to see this on the horizon after four years of getting up at 6 a.m. to wait in freezing weather for basketball tickets.) But I will continue to proclaim my hatred for cocky, too-rich and entitled athletes, and the way our society glorifies athletics. And I still hate baseball.


My Super spread


Things to keep me occupied while waiting for it to start/slow spots in the game.


My super-cool argyle knee socks I just bought from H and M. I just like them a lot and wanted to share. (And I got a bit bored.)


Just me. (Don't look directly at it though on account of the fact I don't have on make-up!) I replaced my usual pajama shirt of "Carolina School of Journalism" with just a "UNC" one, the closest I have to a sports-team related shirt for the occasion.

C'est la vie

This weekend can probably best be described as the weekend that should have been. Nothing terrible happened, no grand plans were set awry, just little hiccups all along the way that made me kind of just want it to be Monday and have it all over and done with.

I let myself sleep quite late on Saturday as a reward for not sleeping well all week. I’m not sure why this has been the case. Someone asked if it was because I have a lot on my mind, and for one of the first times in my life, if not the absolute first time, I don’t. I’m on the cusp of leaving this great place and going home, and I’m ok. Everyone at work is asking me what my plans are, and other than a destination and an ideal career goal, I don’t have any. But I’m ok. And though occasionally when I’m asked this I flashback to senior year, and my heart races and I feel the panic threaten to consume me, it goes away a second later, and I’m ok. (And unlike last year I don’t have to restrain myself from clawing the interrogator’s eyes out.) So in conclusion, not sure why I haven’t been sleeping well. But I’m ok.

But on Saturday I got up, got ready, and set out for Hammersmith to return two ill-advised Primark purchases, sans receipt. This meant waiting in a queue to have them tell me to do so I’d have to exchange them for something else, then searching for other items (the easy part), and then queueing again for the fitting room, and again to pay. Once I paid, I was told in a childish “I’m taking my toys and going home” tone that because I didn’t give them a receipt, I wasn’t getting one. This is unfortunate as I bought a turtleneck whose hanger was marked as a 12 (and I know by now not to go by the hangar but I did anyway) but was actually an 18. So next weekend I will have to repeat this all over again.

I should mention Saturday’s weather. It was clear and sunny, warmer than it has been, but still in the 40s and somewhat windy. I let the shining sun fool me while I was dressing, and thus wore a short-sleeved turtleneck and a blazer, with a pashmina and gloves, but no hat. By the time I got to Russell Square with the intention of loitering around Bloomsbury for the remainder of the afternoon, I was freezing. I decided to just get a pizza at my favorite pizza place - a place frequented while staying at the Mentone for summer school - and then hopefully find a sunny spot where I could eat it, and then get on with my day. Ha.

While walking to the pizza place along the Brunswick Centre, previously mentioned in here, some miscreants threw ice from about four flights up down at me and a few others. The height at which it was thrown, and the force at which it crashed on to the pavement in front me, would have almost assuredly meant a trip to the hospital had it hit me. I looked up to see the little bastards laughing, and immediately wished awful, terrible things to befall them. I wanted nothing more than to scream up multiple expletives, ending with some sort of “I bet your mothers secretly hate you!” insult. But despite having the mouth of a sailor too much of the time, something in me simply will not let me shout up multiple storys, in public, words like that. I just rest easy knowing they probably have bad teeth or mullets. (Stereotypes, I know, but I nearly died!)

At this point, I gave up. I went back to my flat, ate my now semi-cold pizza, took a nap, watched a few movies, including “Notting Hill” on BBC4.

Sunday I had higher hopes for. I woke up at 9 refreshed and alert. I read a Bill Bryson book for awhile, made myself an interesting breakfast, entry on that coming tomorrow, and then set out with the intention of going to Covent Garden. I got sidetracked by Waterstone’s and a book I’ve been eyeing since September, newly in paperback and half-priced. This resulted in browsing for an hour because it would be silly to just put £4 on my card! After this I decided I really didn’t want to walk all the way to Covent Garden, that I really just wanted to sit and read and write at Café Nero. I debated this for entirely too long, thinking I shouldn’t waste the time I have left here sitting in a coffee shop. But you know what, a very wise person (coughAshleycough) told me that even if it’s as simple as something like sitting in a Café Nero or eating at EAT, I should do it because in a few months I won’t be able to. So that’s just what I did.

Got in line at Nero craving a warm Panini and a cup of tea, only to discover they didn’t have my favorite kind of Panini. Strike one. Decided to go for a grande cup of tea and a muffin instead, only to realize I had spent my £5 on pizza yesterday and had less than £3 in change. Strike two. One muffin and one impossibly small and over-priced cup of tea later, I settled into one my favorite spots and pulled out my notebook and pen to write. Strike three. No pen! Not only do I always carry pens, I’m a writer, I should have one surgically attached! I’m pretty sure the first thing they teach you in “Being a Writer 101” is to always, always have a pen! I’m in a stationary store, tons of pens lie one floor beneath me, but I sat for an hour – while eating, drinking, and writing, not just thinking – debating if I should just take all my stuff, thus losing my seat, and go buy a pen, or if I should just take my bag and leave my coat and Waterstone’s purchases, make a mad dash to buy a pen and return. In the end I decided, given Britain’s zealous commitment to safety, and tendency to dispatch police cover to any suspicious, abandoned object, which they presumably blow up at some point, to gather my belongings, buy a pen (or in my case multiple pens) and then come back and find another seat.

But before this I made a quick stop to the bathroom, where I proceeded to drop a battery in the toilet. Now this may sound random, but it’s really not. I always carry extra batteries with me for my digital camera. (But apparently not a pen. Maybe writing’s the wrong calling.) Despite the toilet being…clean…I still had to put my hand in a public toilet to fish out a battery that never holds it charge long, and definitely won’t now. And of course the sink in the bathroom was one of those brilliantly designed marvels that only lets water out if you push in on the faucet with one hand, thus not allowing you to form a lather with the soap with both hands, or even really get your hands wet enough as you are also juggling a coat and bags and a purse. Don’t even get me started…

I wrote for awhile, and then decided to make my way to the grocery store to pick up some Super Bowl munchies. What kind of munchies for American football does one buy in London? Well, I bought chips and dip, classic American fare I feel, but then some hummus and pita bread and brie and crackers. And some veggies to offset some of the carbs. What can I say? I’ll be up until 3 or 4 in the morning watching the game, obviously not how it’s done in the States, so it’s ok if my food is a little off as well.

Tune in tomorrow for my Super Bowl recap, and then later for the results of my great biscuit search. And I plan on updating my blog EVERY DAY THIS WEEK. No really, I do. I already have entries for Tuesday through Thursday, the plus-side of having to wait until 11:00 to watch the Super Bowl was that I had lots of time to write. So come back soon!

Happy Friday, Happy Groundhog Day, Happy Happy

Clearly I'm in a good mood today. Though to be honest, I've been in a fairly good mood all week. As my time dwindles here I really see no choice but to smile and make the most of everything.

I went and saw a play last night, "Man of Mode" at the National Theatre. It was quite good, and I would recommend it. Had it not been for the £5 student ticket offer I probably wouldn't have even looked twice at it, but I'm glad I did. Though written in the 1660s, the director, Nicholas Hytner, set it in the present, though still using 17th century language. It's about a cocky, rich, deceptive womanizer "obsessed with having it all," and follows he and his friend's attempts to do so. It was incredibly well-acted, and the sets were modern and eye-catching. Some parts were weird, like how every scene change was met with random people dancing, but it worked.

I have three more plays coming up, which means I'm one away from my goal of 10, though I may end up surpassing it. "The History Boys" next week - have been wanting to see this for awhile. And then the week after "The Glass Menagerie" with Jessica Lange, and "Underneath the Lintel" with Richard Schiff, aka Toby from West Wing!! It may not be Josh or Sam, my faves, but I love Toby too and the play sounds really really interesting. (I swear I'm not one of those people who only sees plays if there is someone famous in them.)

Not sure what I'm doing this weekend, though I haven't slept well at all this week so I hope to catch up on a little sleep, but not as much as last weekend. But my main goal is to find BISCUITS somewhere in London. I need them desperately. The craving was already quite fierce, then Mom sent Bisquick mix, which I can't use as our oven doesn't work, and then I was forced to read how everyone in CH got free biscuits, AGAIN. Mark my words, if there is a biscuit to be had in London, I will find it.

Happy weekend to everyone and check back Monday for an update.

Fighting the Monday Blues

Welcome to the start of my fifth to last week in London. Ahh! Time has absolutely flown by and September seems like years ago. More reflective posts coming later, to be sure, so I'll hold off for now.

This weekend was slow and un-eventful, for the most part. We had our end-of-month work party on Friday night. It was Australia Day so we had a beach partyish. Someone, I believe it was Karey, asked what the occasion was for a party. It's the end of the month, and over here, that's occasion enough. Thank goodness! But the party was a lot of fun and so was hanging out with people from the bar afterwards.

Saturday I recovered from Friday, slept a bit and then stayed and watched entirely too many episodes of the "Band of Brothers" miniseries. But sometimes, even in London, you need days like that so it wasn't too bad.

Sunday I slept late again, have been really tired lately, and it felt nice. I finally got up and got going, had lunch at McDonald's at Marble Arch because sometimes you just need McDonald's. Afterward I set out for the City, Aldgate East tube to be specific, in search of Spitalfields Market. I hate going to the City on the weekends because it is absolutely dead. I got all turned around while coming out of Aldgate, which has to the most confusing tube and subway system I've ever been on. I ende dup wondering around the City for a bit, where there was no one, which is not cool. I ended up really close to the Swiss Re building, or "The Gherkin" as it's known here. (Thought I prefer to call it the Faberge Egg, as that's what it looks like to me.) It's a skyscraper, and the closest I'd been to it. It was weird, because I don't really like skyscrapers, and I don't like seeing them in London. I like my London buildings to have a history, with white stucco, Georgian or Regency window frames, layers of paint, no more than five or six floors. But I can appreciate the building for its unique design, even though being so close to it is completely intimidating.

After this I decided to give up and followed the signs to the Liverpool Street Station. While doing so I found much better signage for the market, and made my way towards it. The Market is one of the oldest in London, and cleaner, with a better set-up than most. But it was only alright. For one thing I thought the crowd was kind of yuppie-ish, pretentious even. I did look through all the clothes stalls though, bought a great juice drink, and then bought a cool matted photograph.

After this I was of course cold, hungry, and tired, so I went back toward home and the Cafe Nero at Paperchase on Tottenham Court Road, where I always seem to find myself on Sunday afternoons. I chilled here for the remainder of the afternoon, had a tea and muffin and wrote for awhile.

Now the weekend is up and I'm back at work scrounging for things to do. See a play this week, maybe heading to Windsor Castle on Saturday, trying to make up my mind about Ireland and tours in all that. Will be updating again later this week as I am bored, so watch out!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Today I woke up to SNOW outside my window.

Sure, it was but a light layer, didn't stick to the roads, and will probably be all melted by the time I go out for lunch, but it SNOWED.

My heart still skips a beat when I wake up to see snow on the ground and ice on the tree branches. Even though I'll probably never have the exact same excitement as snow days brought when I was younger, they still can make me a little giddy.

On the 23rd day of my 23rd year...

It’s cold here. Really cold here. And windy. The kind of wind that pierces your body, making it hard to move, which is unfortunate as all you want to do is move to anyplace that is warm.

Yesterday was back to work as normal after a busy but good weekend. I’m hoping that the way Monday morning went is not an omen for the rest of the week. I fell up the stairs at work, spilled hot tea on my foot, ripped my panty hose, and smashed part-ways into a wall. In my partial defense, however, I would like to say that this is only the fifth time I have fallen at work. This is HUGE, as there are four flights of stairs and I run up them, easily, 20 or 25 times a day, and in four and a half months I’ve only fallen five times.

As to the weekend, Saturday I took the train to Cardiff for the day. I love taking the train as it provides amazing scenery and makes me appreciate all of Great Britain. To be honest the scenery this time wasn’t that great until after we passed Bristol, but there was one scene in particular that will stay with me a long time. Passing through the countryside, which was a beautiful shade of green that I didn’t expect in January, there was a solitary hill, with one, perfect tree at the center. I’m not good with tree names and types, but it was one where you could see all the branches and leaves, appreciating the structure and shape. The way it stood at the center of the mound, and the way the mound stood alone, overlooking everything around it, it was strength and protection manifested in the landscape in a way I’ve never really seen before. I started to take a picture, but the train moved too fast, and I’m kind of glad, because a picture never would have captured how perfect I found the scene to be.

As for Cardiff, it is a nice city, small but nice. I started at Cardiff Castle, located very near the city centre. It’s small, but the grounds are beautiful, and very green as well. Though it was cold and windy, the sky was clear and blue and made walking around the grounds nice. I took a tour of the inside, where the architecture was amazing. So many intricate details, murals on the walls and ceilings, delicately carved woodwork everywhere you looked. There was little furniture, which was nice because it’s always the furniture that deters me as it always seems so unwelcoming. The tour guide was great because he had a perfect, dramatic British voice. He would take pauses when describing the room, that weren’t too short or too long, but gave a sense of anticipation to whatever he said in only a way that British people can do. My favorite room was the library, an incredibly long room full of shelves of books, with the names of different great writers painted on the walls. And it was the warmest room of the house (the tour guide called it a house) as it still used the original heating method to heat it. (Or well, maybe not the original, having trouble remembering the exact date of the radiator, but at the latest it was from the 19th century.)

Oh, almost forgot the peacocks. Peacocks freely roam the castle grounds. My hatred of birds is no secret, but there are certain birds I can tolerate, at a safe distance of course. Penguins, flamingoes, swans – but only in an appreciation of the fact that they mate for life – and peacocks, the latter simply because their feathers are pretty. So the fact that there were peacocks just walking around didn’t bother me as much as you might think – until I came out of the house after the tour and had one on the railing by my head, so close that when it jumped away the tail grazed my hat. I froze, cursed, and then hightailed it out of there. And of course the whole time there I never saw them with their feathers out, which I think is a good thing because I think that means they are going to attack, doesn’t it?

After the tour of the inside I climbed to the top of the Keep to get a good view of the grounds and Cardiff. I didn’t stay long, however, as the wind was too strong and I was having trouble keeping my balance. And flying off the top of a castle keep in Wales, while a great story, is not how I’d like to die.

By this point I was quite frozen, so after warming up in the gift shop, and buying a few things of course, I walked around town a bit, passed City Hall and other municipal buildings, and finally ended up at the National Museum, where I went to unthaw for awhile. I also looked at some of the exhibits too. They had some great artifacts, and some beautiful, and massive, Celtic crosses made of stone.

After the museum I headed back toward the city centre to eat and shop and absorb Welsh culture…in their malls. Yes, malls abounded in the city centre to the point that I kept getting lost and couldn’t tell if I was in St. David’s mall or Queen Anne’s arcade. I bought some really good mixed nuts, spent less than 10 pounds at their three-story Primark, quite a feat, and then spent my last hours warming up, yet again, in a Café Nero with a cup of tea and my book.

The first half hour of the train ride home was miserable thanks to two incredibly drunk, vulgar men in the same car as me. I waited it out hoping they would pass out, but when they didn’t, wisely switched cars, where I was later yelled at by another drunken man coming out of the toilet for my “bad manners.” Apparently he being in my way and refusing to budge, forcing me to move around him, constituted bad manners. Whatever.

Sunday I slept late, then slept some more later in the afternoon. Just was very exhausted. In between all the sleeping I ran in Hyde Park, and then went to the Imperial War Museum, easily one of my favorite museums in London, and I've seen them all. I only went through two of the exhibits, my favorites, the one on the Holocaust, and the one on post-1945 conflicts.

Nothing too big looming on the horizon. Hope to see another play this week, and then will probably just stay in London this weekend. I want to take another trip out of the city, maybe an overnight one, and then think about where I want to go for a few days my last week here. Any ideas throw them my way. For a weekend trip I’m leaning toward Liverpool, and for my last week I’m still leaning toward Ireland, but just for a few days.

"You're easier to believe in with the lights off." - Bean, Love Song

Friday, Friday, Friday. This week was one of the longest in awhile. Not sure if that's good, since my time here is rapidly dwindling away, or bad, since it made the work days go so much slower.

But it wasn't a bad week, in fact, I've been in a surprisingly good mood. Maybe because all of last week I was sick, and did not work on Thursday as a result. But for the record, lying in bed all day only made me feel worse, not better. But I am mostly better now. I still have slightly runny nose and a cough, and that sick taste in my mouth, but I'll be fine.

Also last week, I got paid to shop. No, really. On Tuesday I get to work to discover half the office on the pavement, as everyone who had keys to get in was away. So a few girls and I went shopping while we waited for keys, and I found a great scard for £2 at Top Shop. I mean, when else am I literally going to get paid to shop?! The keys arrived at 10:30 - I normally start at 9 - and we were all free to go about our days. Though, to be honest, I don't think anyone did any work until after lunch.

Last weekend I re-discovered why I love it here so much, and I really do love it here. I am not ready to go home and leave all of this. I'm looking forward to seeing my family and friends, and getting on with my life, but I am going to miss it terribly.

Anyway, on Saturday I went to the Russian Winter Festival in Trafalgar Square. There were tons of people - more people than birds I'd say, which is hard to do. The festival was only alright, and I didn't stay that long. I picked up some free brochures on Moscow, listened to all the different accents and languages around me, watched some folk dancing, and then bought an over-priced hot dog and chips. But it was nice to experience a different culture.

Afterward I headed for Westminster, as I had not seen Big Ben since November! Gasp! I walked all around Parliament, through some parks, across the Hungerford Foot Bridge, and then along the river to the National Theatre, where I sat at a cafe. I wrote for a bit, and then browsed through the book stalls in front of the National Film Theatre, one of my favorite London activities, even though I've never bought a book.

Sunday I went to church and then sat at the Cafe Nero in Paperchase and wrote. I went to the British Museum for a bit as well, but just wasn't in a museum mood. I did sit in the Great Court and people watch though, which I thought a perfect Sunday activity.

This week has been work as usual, for the most part. It's slow around here so some days I have to hunt for things to do.

Wednesday I went and saw my first play in months, "Love Song" at the New Ambassador's, where I saw one of my favorite plays - "Someone Who'll Watch Over Me" - the first time I was here. It starred Neve Campbell, Kristen Johnston, Cillian Murphy, and Michael McKean. Neve Campbell's acting disappointed me, but everyone else was wonderful. Kristen and Michael had great chemistry and played off each other well. And Cillian was very good at his role, which had comical and easy-going parts, as well as some more intense scenes. I've only seen him in Batman Begins, where he creeped me out supremely, so to see him in this role was nice. And he didn't creep me out. I knew nothing about the play before going, only that I got cheap student tickets and who was in it, but according to the program I read before the show, it was all about love. Love love love. I wasn't really in the mood for that, but it ended up being ok. It was about different types of love and was interesting and different, weird but in a good way, that makes you think, not makes you disturbed.

Tomorrow I am headed for Cardiff, Wales. If I end up going to Ireland in March I will have been to all parts of the UK. I am hoping that the weather holds out and doesn't disrupt my trains, or prevent from doing everything I want to do.

Lovely weekend wishes to all and will write again soon.

Right back where I started from

Apologies as usual for not writing sooner/more often. I’ll be better this year, promise.

I’ve been back in London for a week now. It was great to get away, but it’s also nice to be back.

Christmas at home was AMAZING. Nothing spectacular or exciting, just home. Which in itself can be pretty spectacular and exciting when you’ve been away for four months. Christmas was like it always is, which is exactly what I expected and wanted. Same traditions, same food, same feelings. I knew as soon as I walked into my house that I had made the right decision, that the number on the credit card statement pales in comparison to everything else. In addition to all of the wonderful aspects of being with my family in my house, I also got Bojangles biscuits, Pizza Inn, and El Rodeo. I got to spend a perfect night in Chapel Hill with my friends, and got to re-connect with an old friend at home. I got to see Anderson and CNN and part of a “My Super Sweet Sixteen” marathon on MTV. (I think they knew I was coming home.) I shopped at Target and got a caramel apple cider from Starbucks – in Goldsboro. I soaked up the Southern accent to the point that I am still drawling. (And being teased mercilessly at work for it.) I got to sleep in my bed, which truly is the softest place on Earth – at least compared to the bed here. (I felt like I slept on air my first night.) I got to watch 1 ½ Carolina basketball games. I got hugs. But most of all, after a month of not being that happy, of being exhausted and frustrated and confused, I got to re-charge, got to get back to a part of myself that I didn’t realize I was missing.

And that was my Christmas.

I got back on the 30th, and spent New Year’s Eve at a flat party in Bayswater with my flatmates. No watching fireworks at Big Ben or any other tourist things, does this make me a real Londoner? No, probably just made me smart and warm. I’ve never really been out on New Year’s before and it was a lot of fun. Free drinks made by someone who actually knows how to make drinks, lots of picture taking by the roommate and I while waiting for the clock to strike midnight, lots of being ignored by the people at the party, as they were all older and married. (Not as bad as it sounds – we made our own fun. And it was interesting and a learning experience to say the least.) At midnight I got my New Year’s kisses from several people – all of the European kiss-kiss kind. And then, in a very nice and embarrassing gesture, everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to me. It was nice of Marissa to tell the guy throwing the party, and nice of him to make everyone sing to me, but embarrassing because I just don’t like attention like that. But mostly it was a nice thing. J So 23 started with kisses on the cheek, champagne, a little dancing, and French fries at 2 a.m. at a Halal restaurant on the way to the tube. What this means in ways of prediction for 2007, not sure. But I look forward to finding out.

And that was my New Year’s.

The first day of my 23rd year was uneventful. Seriously. Finally letting the jet lag get to me, I stayed in out of the cold and rain, watched “The Little Mermaid” with the roommate, and then had birthday cupcakes, courtesy of Marissa, and then birthday Nutella and Pandora, courtesy of the flatmate Angelo. It was a good birthday and I have no regrets about how my year has started. It was weird not being home for my birthday, watching the Rose Parade, taking lots of calls from family, but it was still nice. And I did get my family birthday before I left, complete with “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” themed décor and yellow cake with chocolate frosting. I always seem to end up with more birthday cakes then I know what to do with, and this year was no different. I’m still not happy about turning 23, for starters I don’t like odd numbers, and I just am not ready to be another year older. But I guess all in all 22 wasn’t a bad year, lots of changes, that’s for sure, but a lot of good things as well. So hopefully 23 will be alright as well.

And that was my birthday.

Life started again on the 2nd, or at least the semblance of a life I have here. Back to work, though work, and pretty much all of London this week, has been pretty dead. Apparently they’ve had a record number of office workers taking holiday or calling in sick. Work still managed to be stressful at times, but still a little too slow for my taste and I’m hoping things will be closer to normal this week.

This week was perhaps my most trying week here, however, as the SALES have started. Every store window declares, in hot pink, green, and of course, RED, 50% off, 75% off, LAST CHANCE. Every store I pass on Oxford Street – to and from work and on my lunch break – pulls at my self-control, and debit card. So far I think I have done very well. I’ve only bought stuff I will really wear, and got some really good deals in the process.

This weekend I was out and about in London in a way I haven’t done in awhile. I went to Hammersmith on Saturday morning, and then Canary Wharf in the afternoon. I went to the Docklands Museum first, and then sat at a Starbucks in Jubilee Place and wrote.

The Docklands Museum covered the history of the Docklands of London – bet you couldn’t have guessed that – from when it was the Roman port of Londinium to now, with the DLR and rejuvenation of Canary Wharf. It was very well put-together with lots of interesting pictures and artifacts. The artifacts were especially amazing, as they were real objects, no replicas. I love seeing a Viking axe that they just happened upon while excavating in Covent Garden in 1984! They had a jawbone from a whale – twice my height! I think I started at it for five minutes.

The exhibit that I liked the most, however, and the reason for journeying to the museum in the first place, was on Jamestown. It was actually smaller than I had expected, but had lots of artifacts from Jamestown and interesting facts I did not know. For instance, I never knew that orphaned children from England were sent to the colony as servants. They had real tobacco in a barrel at one part of the exhibit. Mom made fun of me when I told her it made me think of home. She’s right, we may live in the country but it’s not like I’m around cured tobacco – ever. But for some reason the smell sent me instantly back home.

My favorite part of the museum was a map labeled “the Southern part of Virginia.” In actuality, it’s North Carolina, turned on its side, so the Outer Banks are at the bottom, but still, it was North Carolina. Cape Fear and Cape Hatteras, as well as Roanoke Island were labeled. There were drawings of animals along the Eastern part of the state – apparently lions roamed wild around the Wilmington area! J Instead of the Atlantic Ocean – it was called the “Southern Virginia Sea.” And the area around Beaufort was simply described with “this is a swampy wilderness.” I think I studied the map for 10 minutes, and then came back two more times before leaving it. It was very well drawn, in colored pencil, and very detailed in its rendering of the Outer Banks and various inlets. The map made it worth the long tube ride to Canary Wharf, and the even longer walk, in the cold, bitter, wind and rain from the tube station to the museum.

Sunday I went to church and then sat in a coffee shop and read. I think I may have finally found a coffee shop that I can read in and feel at ease, relaxed, and just good. It’s the Café Nero on the second floor of Paperchase on Tottenham Court Road. It’s close to church, work, and only about a 30 minute walk from my flat, and it only took me four months to find a place to chill and read and write in!

And that was my weekend. As usual it was too short, but I feel good about the week ahead, and that hasn’t happened in awhile.

And every stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be homeward bound

And the countdown starts. Five days until home! All the shopping that I can do here is done. One bag is already packed and I’ll start packing the other one soon. I’ve already listened to my “Going Home” playlist once, and I’m making a mental list of things to eat, places to go, and people to hug. I love London, I truly do, but it’s time for this Carolina girl to go home, if only for a little while.

Our work Christmas party was quite good. And interesting. I had a great time, talked to a lot of people, and just had a fun, relaxing time. I learned that me and a white sweater attracts red whine like a moth to a flame, as well as exactly how much wine it takes to make me dance. But other than a few harmless phone calls to good friends the evening was stupidity-free. And a lot of fun.

Saturday I took a three-hour walk through Hyde Park – with a short pit-stop on the Queensway side for some Starbucks. I saw an absurd number of attractive men pushing baby carriages, and an equally absurd number of over-dressed-for-the-park women with their yappy not-a-dogs with names like “Carly” and “Baby.” And at one point a group of soldiers of some kind, in full uniform and in perfect formation, marched through singing in Latin. Combined with the cool air and falling leaves, it was like a scene from a movie. Unfortunatley there was almost a repeat of another scene from a movie when I went around the Big Pond, against my better judgment, and had to fend off pigeons, swans, ducks, and seagulls. Ya’ll don’t know how close you were to losing me – I honestly thought my heart was just going to stop beating from fear. But I kept my eyes on the prize – Starbucks – and made it through.

Sunday I made a trip to Harrods as a favor for Mom, and was happy to have information point me exactly where I needed to be and to not have to wait in a long queue once I was there. I then made the mistake of wandering into the toy area. Screaming, running, bratty kids running all over the place. Shouldn’t they be left at home so the parents can shop for them and surprise them? Ugh. I wasn’t very impressed with the toy section anyway. Only about five Barbies and their other doll section was equally pitiful. The board game selection was nice, but we already have them all, and it seemed like too much of the department was devoted to magic tricks, which I’m just not into.

After a great lunch of a hot bagel sandwich, I went to the Victoria and Albert museum. It is a massive museum full of every kind of artifact from every period you can think of. They say they are grouped by region and era, but sometimes I really don’t believe them. I think there are five floors, but honestly, I’ve never made it past the second. And Sunday I didn’t make it past the fashion exhibit on the first floor. I spent an hour looking at all the dresses and suits from different eras. They had a new exhibit on 60s London fashion which was wonderful, and even a display on women’s lingerie. But the highlight was seeing this, in person, up close, for real.


















Yes, my favorite Diana dress, was there. And it’s just as stunning in person as one would think.

I then glanced around the shop, of course, and on my way out ran into my associate pastor. This is the second time in London I’ve run into someone I know just while out and about and it makes me smile for a long time afterward. It’s such a big city, and since I don’t know that many people, it makes it feel smaller when something like this happens. I remember when I first started at Carolina, thinking that the place was too big and that I could never imagine seeing anyone I’d know just while walking around. Ha. I was lucky if I could go one day without seeing someone I knew. But in London it's still such a rare occurrence I don't mind it too much...yet.

So close...

“Maybe ‘extremely lucky’ are the most appropriate words of the evening. But he can’t have them. They don’t apply to him. They apply to us.” - AL

Apologies for writing so very little for the last month. I feel like it has flown by in a whirlwind of guests, trips, shopping, walking, rain, and work. Especially work. I am beyond exhausted, just absolutely physically drained, and am ready to go home and re-charge for a bit. As happy as I have been here, and I am very happy here, I need my safe haven, need that piece of me back for a bit.

Let’s see, nothing too exciting to report. I haven’t done much the past few weeks or weekends, unfortunately. I am in the process of getting sick and tried to sleep it away this weekend – to no avail. And I am so tired after work that I can’t even manage to drag myself to the theatre – now you know exactly how exhausted I’ve been!

But enough complaining. It’s December and I’m in London! The lights have all been switched on and the store windows are decked out. The windows at Selfridge’s are my favorites, and I catch something different each time I walk by. To be honest, I am not overly impressed with Oxford Street’s lights, but they do have big chandelier type lights every few rows and if you weren’t already aware, chandeliers rank right up there with fountains in my book. The night they turned the lights on on New Bond Street, they had a snow machine, so as I walked down Oxford bits of “snow” hit my face. I think I smiled all the way home. I went to Covent Garden this weekend – one of my favorite places in London – and got to hear the cast of “Sweet Charity” sing a Christmas carol, and also got to gaze at the truly hideous Covent Garden Christmas tree. It’s like gnomes decorated it – the lights are only at the bottom, and there are probably less than 10 star ornaments on it, all placed haphazardly. By gnomes.

I am still having trouble realizing that Christmas is so close. I get like this every year I suppose. It never felt like Christmas until after finals were over, until after I was home, so I’m assuming it will be the same thing this year. But I am nearly finished with my Christmas shopping, just a few things to pick up once I’m back home. But at least I stuck to a budget this year – gasp! But don’t be alarmed, I keep buying myself random things to make up for it.

Our work Christmas party is this week. It’s my first Christmas party as an adultish person and I’m excited. It should be interesting to say the least. Starts at 2 p.m. and moves to a pub at 4 p.m. that doesn’t close until midnite. And it’s free alcohol. Did I mention it will be interesting?

In the meantime, I'm counting down the days until I'm back in the land of biscuits that aren't cookies, with TVs showing Carolina basketball and NFL games, with all my friends in the same time zone, where I can walk around my house with my eyes closed and never get lost.

"We were selfless representing that name on the front of the jersey. We lost ourselves in the game." (Wayne Ellington)

At last, an update. Hopefully there is at least one person out there still checking on this blog, and you can let everyone else know that she has finally updated! The details aren’t the greatest, and who knows when I’ll have pictures posted, but it is what it is and I’ll try harder in the future. :-) I've separated everything into sections so skip around if you like.

Christmas
First, big news: I’ll be home for Christmas! I booked a flight this week and will be back in my precious state of North Carolina from Dec. 22 to 29. This wasn’t the plan, but it was the right thing to do. For some insane reason, I had been foolishly thinking that it would prove that I could be on my own, be an adult, if I could do Christmas on my own. No no no no. I need my Mom and Dad and sister and brother! I need homemade rolls and wedding soup. I need Christmas ornaments and our village. I need to be there when we go see lights on Christmas Eve, when we light candles in the living room and open pajamas. I need to be there when we look for our stockings and whine because Daddy hid them too well. Need to fight over present order, going youngest to oldest, oldest to youngest, or maybe even starting in the middle. We do the same things, year after year after year, and I thought that would make it easier, knowing that what I missed this year I’d be back for next year. No. It’s too special of a time in my family and I realize that wherever I go and whatever I do, I may be an adultish person, but I will always be home for Christmas.

Scotland
Was wonderful. I constantly had to stop and think to myself, “Wow, you are in Scotland. Scotland!” Edinburgh is a beautiful city. It’s old, old in a different way than how London is old. London is a potpourri of different historical eras and architectural phases, while Edinburgh just blends together so well. We took a bus tour on our first day in order to see as much of the city as possible, and see it as a whole. It’s a city, but yet so different from London. Quieter, less hustle and bustle. But it’s city street set-up may be even more confusing than London’s! Quite literally a city on top of a city, I’m glad we didn’t have to navigate too much of it ourselves!

While in Edinburgh we were able to meet up with a friend of mine from UNC studying there, Amy. We had dinner at “The Elephant House,” a really cute café where J.K. Rowling supposedly wrote some of the first Harry Potter. Amy told us about life in Edinburgh, how going to school there differs from UNC, and then showed us some of the city at night. It was great to see a friend and to talk about Tar Heel basketball and missing UNC with someone else.

The next two days were spent on day tours in the Highlands through the amazing tour company Haggis. Already all the details of everything we did is getting a little hazy, and until I force myself to sit down and go over all my pictures and the tour brochures, this very short account will have to do. (And it really doesn’t do Scotland justice!) But I will say that the Highlands, even in winter, afford some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen. I was completely over-whelmed by nature in the best possible sense, feeling completely insignificant, again, in a good way. We went to Stirling and saw the William Wallace monument – the largest monument in Europe not built for Jesus. We learned, both days, about the inaccuracies in “Braveheart.” We drove through Rob Roy territority, along lochs, and twisty mountain roads. We saw the castle where they filmed scenes from “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.” We saw the oldest tree on Earth, Scottish sheep, and learned that, according to our second tour guide Ped, the Scots invented just about everything you can think of. My favorite Scottish invention tidbit? The gun that fired the first shot of the American Revolution, the “shot heard round the world” at Lexington and Concord, well, the gun was made in Scotland. So it was, quite literally, the shot heard round the world. We took a boat cruise on Loch Ness in search of Nessie – and have video to prove we saw her! Loch Ness! Something I’ve read stories about, seen emblazoned on those tacky supermarket tabloids, and I was on it! We learned about the depths and passion of Scottish pride, and that English reserve doesn’t really apply to the Scots.

It was a wonderful trip and I am very glad I was able to share it with Mom and Aunt LuAnn.

Work
I have settled into my job-change, and rather like it. I only miss working reception because I miss the internet access. But I don’t mind doing the “bitch” job every day, and I’ve been able to make my own routine and do things more how I like them. Tuesday I felt like a real adult as I put on my first work birthday partyish. (It wasn’t really a party.) But really, it's all good.

Ashley
Two days after Mom and Aunt LuAnn left Ashley came! To say I was happy to see her was an under-statement. I truly miss talking to my friends, having people I have so much in common with around me, having people who know me so well. Just sitting and talking with her at Café Nero on the first day, early in the morning after her flight got in, could easily have been enough for me. But luckily we had a whole week for even more fun and talking! We walked around London, rode the terrifying slides at the Tate Modern, and just had a great week.

Bath
We took a day trip to the, to steal Ashley’s word, “lovely,” quintessentially British town of Bath. It was rainy and a bit dreary and cold at times, but was still a great day. Houses were built up on a hill that reminded Ashley of Salzburg and me of the French Riviera – just with less sun. We walked through a gorgeous park where the leaves were changing, and around gorgeous buildings, some shaped in a circular way, and others built like houses in San Fransisco – close together and appearing to be on a slant. We took a tour of the Roman Baths. A fascinating place full, absolutely full, of history. We got close to the baths – you aren’t allowed in them – and could feel the steam from them. I was entranced by display cases of items found in the baths – coins, hair pins, wishes etched on metal, and so much more. They had stone blocks where one could see the symbol of the masons engraved on the side. And they even had the orginial drainage pipe! A thousand-plus years old! I could go on and on about how authentic and old everything was. Many of you know how much I HATE going to historical places and have them tell me how something might have looked, or how they may have slept in this room, or even worse, have replica furnishings and buildings. Ugh! I want my 1754 wood from Richmond and 12th century Westminster Hall! We then warmed up with a cup of tea at the charmingly named café, “The Boston Tea Party.” Even though it was clearly a dig at silly Revolutionary Americans, it was good tea. (Gasp! Traitor! Or, considering my previous rant, just a really big history dork.) All in all it was a wonderful day with one of my favorite travel buddies.

Thanksgiving
I have to be honest, Thanksgiving day was quite miserable for me. I don’t even really care for Thanksgiving that much, but it’s still a holiday I’m used to spending with my family, and to not be with them and to be at work – gasp – on a holiday obviously not celebrated over here, was much harder than I expected. But I came home after work to a package from Melissa, full of Thanksgiving-type goodies – stuffing and pumpking gnoche, plus hot chocolate, grits, and a slinky! The package brightened me up for sure. And of course having Ashley here helped brighten me up as well. We went to a pub and had nachos and drinks, and then came back to my flat to drink a bit and sing a long to the Beastie Boys and take silly pictures. It wasn’t a conventional Thanksgiving, but it was nice.

Cambridge
Saturday it was off to Cambridge, after we spent the morning at Portobello Road. We left a cold and rainy London, and traded it for a wet and cool Cambridge. It was a bit overcast, but it ended up still being a beautiful day. Ashley and I have both been to Oxford and were eager to see which we liked better. I think Ashley liked Cambridge better, but it’s hard for me to say. I feel like I saw more of Cambridge than I did Oxford, but at Oxford I went on a student-led tour and feel like I learned more about their university experience. And, I’ll be honest, as beautiful as both were, and they both were, it just can’t compare to that other university that has completely captured my heart. Still, we were able to go inside the courtyards of several of the colleges, my favorite being King’s College, with it’s lush green lawn, wood bridges over the river, and big, important looking buildings. I don’t see how anyone could possibly not feel smarter studying there, how anyone could possibly procrastinate or not want to do well. (Ha, I’m now thinking though that even the beautiful scenery would be no match for my mad procrastination skills. Still sure they have access to YouTube and Facebook. And AIM.) I am still perplexed, however, at both Oxford and Cambridge, at how they don’t like people to walk on the grass. I know I should quit comparing them to my college experience, but where are you supposed to go on the first day of Spring when you skip class? Watch boys who really should put their shirts back on play Frisbee? Or my favorite, wince everytime you see a dog lift it’s leg over a tree that has been there longer than any of us can imagine? Anyway, we walked around the city, a city by the way dominated by cyclists, stopped at a market in the city centre and wondered in shops. We had tea and cake at “Aunties Tea Shop,” and enjoyed a day out of London.

Home sweet home

Back safe and sound from Scotland. Hooray! Mom and Aunt LuAnn are on their way to Paris, or may actually already be there, as I type. I am at work struggling to keep my eyes open and longing for my lunch break at half one.

Scotland was absolutely stunning. It was cold, rainy, and windy, but hardly mattered as the scenery was so beautiful. More details and hopefully pictures coming later this week.

My job has changed at work, however, so I will no longer be on reception, which means no internet time. This is going to affect my blogging and picture-posting for a time until I figure something out. But don't worry, I will figure something out.

Really really long post ahead

Well, exhausted doesn't even begin to describe me right now. But also really really happy and excited. The past few days since Mom and Aunt LuAnn have been here have been jam-packed with lots of walking, talking, and going. Having to work was actually a nice break from being a tour guide, even though I probably wasn't even that great of one as I forgot a lot of the important stuff about places. But anyway...

Saturday, of all days, I slept past 9 a.m. for the first time since being in London, and was woken by a phone call from Mom to tell me they were about to board the Gatwick Express. I get to Victoria shortly after they did, though they like to tell it like they were waiting for hours. But, needless to say, I was very happy and excited to finally have them here! After dropping the luggage off at my flat, we set right off before the jet-lag could really hit them. We had lunch at a Pizza Express on Marylebone, then went to Oxford Street and Hyde Park. We walked a lot and saw a lot and it was a good first sight-seeing day.

Sunday we went to church, then had "lunch" at Starbucks. While it's not exactly the same as my caramel apple cider, their caramel hot chocolate is good as well. We stopped at a few shops on Regent Street, including the famous Hamleys toystore. Even though I am "adultish", Mom bought me a Paddington Bear, which has made me dorkily happy. Afterward we headed for Westminster, or as I like to call it, "real London." Big Ben and Parliament, Westminster Abbey, the Thames, the Eye and so on. We went up in the Eye and the view was even more spectactular this time than the first time I went up. Aunt LuAnn didn't care for it too much once we got to the top, but I think we all still enjoyed the experience. Afterward we took a short river cruise on the Thames. Just a 20 minute ride to get us from the Eye to Tower Bridge. But the sun was setting and it was a beautiful backdrop for the city and all the amazing buildings along the river. Tower Bridge is just stunning at night and it was a great way to see it. A long day was capped off a truly British restaurant in Piccadilly Circus - Planet Hollywood. Yes, we all crossed an ocean to eat at Planet Hollywood. But I had never eaten at one before and I got chicken fingers for the first time in more than two months so I was happy!

Monday was busy as well, of course. First thing was Abbey Road. It was awesome to be able to see it with Mom and we all crossed and took pictures. Sadly they've taken down the sign on the sidwalk that says "Abbey Road" and has lots of signatures on it, but it was nice all the same. We then set off for Buckingham Palace, but first a stop at Green Park for another Starbucks brunch. I've had more Starbucks this week than I have all year! Unfortunately "Liz" wasn't at home to invite us in for tea, so Mom thinks we should try and catch her this weekend up at Balmoral. Next was Trafalgar Square and the National Portrait Gallery. All the fountains were on so that somewhat lessened my desire to kick all the pigeons, but only somewhat. Next was Kensington Palace. We went inside and I'm glad we did because it was really lovely and interesting. They had the apartment where Princess Margaret lived open to the public, and that was really neat to walk where she had walked and see her bedroom and such. There was also a display of photographs of Princess Diana and several of her dresses. We got to see the dress she wore to the White House and danced with John Travolta in, and that just took my breath away. I'm not usually a huge fan of palaces but this one was real, not overly opulent or cold. I could live at this one, easily. After the Palace we took the long walk to Knightsbridge to Harrods, by far the most extravagant and nearly over-the-top department store I've ever been in. As has become our custom, we went to the Christmas shop for tree ornaments, and later spent ten minutes trying to exit the massive store. We ended yet another long day at an Italian place called "La Dolce Vita." Love the name and the food.

Now you can see why I, and they, are exhausted! But we are all having a great time and it's been nice showing them London and hopefully they can understand more why I love it so much. Last night we saw "The Sound of Music" and it was amazing. The sets were beautiful, the leads and chldren had great voices and were great actors, and it all came together very nicely, very much like the film. Longer review later, along with Spamalot, promise. But this is entirely too long and I'm tired all over again just writing! Tomorrow we leave for Scotland so I probably won't be writing again until Monday. And will post pictures then as well. Thanks if you made it this far!