Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime

(This post was written before Christmas regarding an event that happened....two? weeks ago. Let's jump in the way back machine and remember!)

I am currently nestled in my bed in Virginia, surrounded by pillows and the contents of a as-yet-not-fully-unpacked suitcase*, trying to finish up the year. I don't plan on posting while I'm home, as this blog's main function is to serve as a kind of collection of dispatches to the folks at home. Being home, it seems redundant.

That said, it would be irresponsible of me to let the autumn term close without recapping its final week.

Shall we?

Saturday night (the 11th) was the Footie Christmas Dinner. Our intrepid organizer had reserved a room at the Shakespeare Hotel's restaurant and MASS.B and I were among the first people there, giving us ample time to admire the work that had gone into the setting. The table was epically long and covered with streamers, with crackers and name-cards attached to cookie cutters at every place (not to mention a fair amount of wine laid out). I was sat between Hal and another SFM, though close to my fellow MA newbies, and conversation covered a wide variety of topics including the film career of one Leonardo DiCaprio and the travesties that are British holiday desserts. There was also an extended interlude where I and another research student attempted to blow up balloons (the end goal being to then release them and disrupt someone's supper at the other end of the table...apparently, that's a done thing, here), only to instead spend 15 minutes turning bright red and making pitiable pffft noises. I was eventually victorious, but not after a great deal of effort.

Lining up a shot

Being a hoarder, I had spent the night collecting my little bits and bobs within the cardboard hat left at my seat (we all got them, quite stylish), intending to take these trash-but-treasures home at the end of the night. Tragically, while my attention was being held in the act of pouring milk all over my dessert (don't ask), a well meaning but over eager waiter bussed my place and threw everything out. I procured myself another cookie cutter through the good graces of my table mates, as well as another cracker, this one containing a little frog that could be made to jump. Being all of five years old, the rest of dinner was spent locked in an epic frog jumping contest with Hal and the SFM to see who could get the frog into an espresso cup.

America, be proud of your native daughter. The honor and glory that night was mine.

After dinner was dancing, which saw some excellent moves being busted by the congregation, and then a few of us went out for a quick drink before scattering home.

It was, in a variety of ways, a most enjoyable evening.

* And medicine. No one escapes the Shakestitute plague, it seems.

Merry Christmas, Bedford Falls

(The 'Love Actually' blog post. A Christmas tradition since 2004.)

With any luck, by next year
I'll be going out with one of these g u y s.
But for now, let me say
Without hope or agenda
Just because it's Christmas
And at Christmas you tell the truth
To me, you are perfect
And my wasted heart will love you
Until you look like this.


Merry Christmas <3

Those Randy Stuarts

(Note: This post was begun...oh...ages ago. Maybe eons. The week it's talking about is the one ending December 11.)

Have been doing inventories in paleography. The Elizabethan catchall for things you were too lazy to write out was 'and other small implements,' so class kind of took on a tone of a bizarre version of the '12 Days of Christmas' vibe this week because that becomes the only part everyone can read and it occurs at the end of every paragraph. Five gold rings....

I wrote that before I realized how ridiculously behind I was on....everything. SO. Bullet rundown. Here we go:

• Last full playwright class was a case study on Sir Thomas More, taught by Prof. Editor and was great. I got points for turning a book upside down and we were all filmed awkwardly for some kind of promo video.
• Wound up auditioning for a play. Auditions make me hardcore, vomit-on-my-shoes nervous and this was no exception. We had to do improv? And then like...read things? Gah. But, this being a communist organization in a socialist country, everyone gets a role, and I will be appearing as one of three citizens in next year's production of King John. And I'm kind of really excited about that. Well, excited about having an excuse to socialize with fun people. The actual acting thing...I'll get back to you.
• Saw 'Matilda' at the Company. It was excellent. Totally made me tear up, because I am secretly a giant ball of sentiment and have a severe soft spot for children's ideas of adulthood. Hope to write a fuller review later, but really, really liked it.
• Messed up my reading for history and thus shamed myself, my peers, my country and my ancestors. But I did bring in a libelous Stuart poem about the Countess of Somerset, which I think made up for it. Judge for yourself:

Essex bird hath flowen hir cage,
And’s gone to Court to ly with a Page
She was a lady fyne of late,
She could not be entred shee was soe streight
But now with use she is soe wyde
A Car may enter on every side.

• The CREMS lecture was this week was given by Hal, in fact, and was excellent. One of the best of the term, by far. Also, it had to do with sex, so it fit right in with the whole theme of the day, since it was the same day we talked about libelous material (see previous bullet).
• Went to a Hanukkah party! Lit candles, sang, identified pictures of famous Jews hung about the room (damn you, Leonard Bernstein, and your non-remarkable visage), drank wine and had a great conversation about what the best weapon in the kitchen would be to fend off a ninja attack (interestingly enough, the knives lost out).
• One of the professors is retiring, so the last Thursday seminar was also her last talk, and it was excellent (dealt with commercialization of Shakespearean images, both of the playwright and of his characters). There was even a game! A game I lost because, really, who expects Benedict to show up in a car ad? No one, that's who. And then we had cake and I saw Prof. NYU, who gave me fun things and is always lovely to see and I scooted off home
• Made a triumphant return to Thursday play reading and had a ball playing the straight man in a comedic trio with MASS.B and Chi. The play was 'Tis Pity She's a Whore, which was suitably ludicrous and OH MY WORD SO DISTRESSING. I'm not sure I can really get behind any play where a girl (happily) gets knocked up by her brother. Ugh. Gah. Ew. However, still a lot of fun, especially when MASS.B messed up his death scene.
• The Friday of that week (so...the 10th...) I saw a two person version of Antony and Cleopatra. It was a very interesting thought experiment, and I thought they did a really good job of it. Afterwards we went out to drinks for Friend*'s birthday, and I got pleasantly tipsy and demonstrated that, no matter how content I am, my neutral face looks like someone just beat my puppy with a rusty shovel.

*Friend is a friend of the Institute, a friend of my roommate's, a friend of mine, etc. I have no idea what to name him, otherwise, and if I hold up this post until I think of something it will never get posted. Ever. So this will do for now and maybe in the future he will be reborn! Or not. You never know, with me.

The Dog Days Are Over

If I try to do a real, true blog post for each of the last however many days it's been, I will never catch up to myself. Thus, quickly, here are some snapshot adventures from the last few days:

• Last Friday I went to the Builders Night at the new Company theater with a friend from London2 (he worked lighting for the Company). It was a kind of bizarre variety show type performance, with music, pseudo-sketches, a few dances and some comedic bits that mostly went over my head. One of the musical pieces was lovely and was written for (I think) the old Shakespeare Memorial Theater. They ended the night with the closing song from the Midsummer I worked FOH for during London2, and it was only then that I realized one of the evening's hosts had played Bottom in the same production. That song was always my favorite part of that show, and it brought back a host of fond memories. I quite like the theater itself and think they did an excellent job of making a large house seem intimate. Looking forward to going back for a proper show next year.
• Spent the weekend at friends of the families near Reading, which was heaps of fun. We had a kind of second Thanksgiving with loads more delicious food (oh my, those potatoes...and chocolate pumpkin pie with Bailey's whipped cream? Yes, please). Also got to spend a lot of time playing with the children (Uno, drawing, Sylvanians, necklaces, HP Lego for iPad) and very much enjoyed my first episode of QI. It was lovely to see them all and so nice of them to host me, especially because I was there for the morning of Mrs.' birthday. Made me feel very cozy and a taste of home, and even more jazzed to take that flight back to the states in two weeks.
• History class yesterday was a riot. We were talking about James VI/I and his court and there were seemingly endless discussions of the monarch's bowel movements (seriously, sometimes I wish we could trade information...I would gladly lose the specifics of James' defecation habits in exchange for say, any information regarding Shakespeare's activities in his 20's) and the fondling of royal favorites in public. Not thinking things through, I removed a piece of lint from MASS.B at one point, which opened the door for Prof. History to refer to us as James and Buckingham the rest of class (awkward! wrong!). Best moment, though, was Prof. History's ill-timed use of the word "rise" when talking about the consequences of James' petting of Buckingham. We are such children.
• Christmas has come to my dining room, and I couldn't be happier about it. I bought a (fake) tree the other day and then Chi, MASS.B and I stocked up on ornaments and lights and it's so wonderful. There are decals in the window, tinsel on the stairs, a cloth on the table, a tree by the door and snow on the ground. I love Christmas. Love it so.
• Family dinners are becoming a regular thing. Last night Adriana made a delicious pasta thing and tomorrow is THE taco night wherein Hal and Keeper will represent their nations in an epic eating contest. I'm so excited, for the food the company AND  the spectacle. It occurred to me at the last taco night that the people around were all people I am friends with because I really truly enjoying being with them—not just because we are in the same small program. Fantastic.

I think that's all, for now. I know yesterday I talked a lot about appreciating how lucky I am, but I think it's also worth mentioning that I'm incredibly happy as well. I don't think there's anyone in Virginia (nay, the entire Eastern seaboard) that doesn't know the last year was really rough for me. Not because I had to deal with great and terrible things, just because I wasn't where I wanted to be in life, metaphorically or physically. And now I am. I'm where I want to be, doing what I want to be doing, surrounded by people I genuinely enjoy.

That doesn't mean I don't stress about things (papers and loans, loans and papers) or miss the folks back home. But I do find myself having impromptu dance parties of one in my kitchen all the time, just because I'm loving life. And that's pretty awesome.

Thanksgiving

I don't always get up in time to watch the Thanksgiving Day parade, but this year I really was sorry to not have the option. For some reason, I was really jonesing for some balloons, dancing characters and watered down Broadway performances.

Instead, I trucked out to a Thursday seminar to learn about the trend to draw on humors in the comedies of 1597 and Ben Johnson. Similar?

There was a break between seminar and dinner, which was just the perfect amount of time to finish up the stuffing. Keeper and Chi were working on their sweet potato casseroles and a few other Institute students were over and we were all gathered in the kitchen, listening to Christmas music and cooking and it was just so warm and wonderful.

Years ago, my family began a tradition of playing what we call 'the thankful game.' It's a version of 'I am going to Grandma's house and I'm packing...' but focuses on things to be thankful for (or that we just like). It usually starts off pretty straight forward, but, as the game keeps going phrases get added on to things, along with ways of sayings the words, accents, commentary, etc. I explained this to the kids in the kitchen and we decided to play, and that whoever got 'z' would have to do the recap on camera, which wound up being mine to do.

Thanks given and food cooked, we staggered out into the cold cold night for a feast at the the pub. The Institute had taken possession of a large room near the front and, even though we were only ten minutes late, it was already pretty packed. Claiming tables near the back, we ordered drinks and settled down for Thanksgiving dinner.

After an appropriate conversation period allowing more latecomers to come in an find seats/distribute dishes (the pub provided turkey, potatoes and boiled veg and everything else was potluck, provided by the students and placed the provider's tables), we all said a blessing and were called up table by table. I came back to my spot my turkey, mashed potatoes, new potatoes, roasted root vegetables, English stuffing, (my) bread stuffing, boiled vegetables, two types of sweet potato casserole with pecans and a hefty portion of gravy. It wasn't dad's, but it was close and so very delicious.

Not to mention flavored with the spice of wonderful company. One student had brought a turkey hat, which made the rounds throughout dinner and was just hilarious. It was also, Chi's birthday, so there singing. Keeper and Hal were, from opposite ends of the room, engaged in a good old fashioned eating contest that I and another girl were reffing, leading to lots of good natured trash talking. There was plate passing and laughter and enjoyment and so much love and community. It was wonderful.

The pub cleared out afterwards for play reading, but a few of us stayed behind and just continued to bask in the glow of the holiday (and recover from the food coma) until they came back. I even skyped with my parents a bit off of Freelancer's computer.

All in all, a wonderful holiday and so very much to be thankful. Hope yours was wonderful as well!

Meh

Am about a thousand years behind on this blog which, upon re-reading, is incredibly boring. In the future, I will try to be better about posting and also see about making my life more exciting (bank robbing? para-gliding? I'll look into it). My sister has suggested reformatting this blog to be a "Daily Things I Love About Gracie" site but...we will see.

Actually, the last few days have been worth reporting but, for now, Charles Dickens calls.

Feelings of Bread

Back in Elizabeth's day, they lacked thickening agents for things like soup and stews and whatnot and so they used stale bread. Problem being, lacking modern day preservatives allowed for a bacteria to exist in the bread that actually kept it fresh for longer than nowadays. To combat this problem, whole rooms were dedicated to shelves of bread left to stale to then be crumbled or hollowed out (it was also used as a kind of bowl).

Lordy, did I wish I had one of these this week.

I have, for a long while, known I was going to make bread stuffing for the Institute Thanksgiving. I even practiced awhile back with a quarter sized recipe, which came out pretty delectable (if slightly salty). I also knew it was going to take some serious preparation, which is why I found myself listening to terrible pop music on Tuesday night while cubing sandwich bread for—literally—hours. Okay, so maybe only an hour and half. But that is too much time to be cutting bread.

By the end of the night, I had enough bread to cover the entirety of the buffet in the dining room and two baking sheets. The theory was, by Wednesday evening it would be dried out enough for stuffing.

That was the theory!

Wednesday, I got back from class. I chatted with Chi a bit. I updated my Troupe blog. And then I went to get going on the stuffing.

The bread, at this point, was not completely dried. It wasn't soft, per say, but it was still spongier than required. 

Solution? The oven. After picking out all the bits that were suitably crunchy and throwing them into a pot (I felt like Cinderella in the old version of the tale, where she has to pick out the lentils in ashes), I began filling two trays with single layers of not-crunchy bread and rotating them through the oven to dry them out. It took about eight trays to get all of my materials in a dry enough state and, by this time, I was running a bit late since I knew Keeper and Sunny were coming over for tacos with Chi and I and I didn't want to be in the kitchen the whole time.

Surrounded by bread, I began working on the rest of the work which included chopping onions, carrots, celery, sage, thyme and parsley and frying/crumbling up bacon. I was just finishing up this process when Chi and Keeper came in.

Chi and Keeper...and Adriana and Sunny and Freelancer and MASS.B and THE ENTIRE INSTITUTE. There were people I had never met. There were people I had never SEEN. It was an army of people and suddenly they were all in my kitchen, where I was losing a battle with a mountain of cubed edibles.

Don't get me wrong, I love people. And I loved people this night, it was just I wasn't expecting them and I was already feeling a little nutty because I was running behind, and now not only was I cooking more food than I ever had before, but I was doing it in some kind of domestic obstacle course. Knives! Cabinets! People! Bowls! Water! Food! Things everywhere!

My favorite coping mechanism, save lying down on the floor for an extended period of time, is to break down things into single, easily completed steps. I employed this now. First, melt a huge amount of butter and cook the vegetables. Okay, not so bad. Second, add the herbs. Again, we're doing okay. Now, transfer to a bowl to add the bread, eggs and chicken stock.

Ah, right. This part.

As I mentioned before, I had quite a lot of bread. And, now, quite a lot of very hot, buttery veg. And not a lot of bowls.

Improv time.

First was to go the expected route, which was to try the bowls anyway, dividing the ingredients between the two biggest we had. The veg was first and no problem, but then I started adding the mountains of bread. Both bowl were now overflowing and all of the buttery herby veg goodness was at the bottom and there was no way I was going to be able to stir it.

Okay, plan two. I had the pans I was planning to bake the stuffing out on the table (the result of careful negotiation with Chi and Keeper over which dishes were going to be used for which cooking project, as they were making sweet potato casserole). They were flatter and larger, and this seemed a promising route, so I emptied the two bowls into the two pans. Success! They seemed to fit without much problem. Great, let's stir it up. And no sissy spoon for emma, no sir! For this, gotta use the hands.

Thus, I dug in. Dug in and promptly let out a high pitched squeal of pain because, like the genius I am, I had neglected to put it together that all that had buttery chopped veg had, only a moment before, been simmering on a very hot stove. Genius, emma. Genius.

Recovering, I gingerly began using a spoon to distribute the veg throughout the piles and piles of bread in the pans before it really was cool enough to use the hand method, and then added the egg. This was going reasonably alright, but the chicken stock needed to be put in and there was no way the pans were going to work. Back to the bowls!

Now, at this point, I was literally up to my elbows in eggy, gooey, bready...

EDIT 11/29/10: I am re-reading this post for the first time now and, clearly, I accidentally deleted some section of this story. One day I am going to fix it. Today is not that day.

...emma's stuffing adventure was over. It was in the pans, covered in cling wrap, waiting to be popped in to the oven the next day, save for one small dish that was being cooked that night to make sure I wasn't about to poison everyone.

I was free!

And you know what? It turned out. In fact, it was delicious (if I do say so myself). I had lots of people comment on it, a few even telling me it was better than their family's, and Freelancer even gave herself a non-vegetarian moment to taste it. I am so proud!

And, also, so much more appreciative of what my father does every year.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Class-y Dame

I think it says something about where my head's been at the past few days that, sometime last week, I had to wait outside the Institute car park so that Judi Dench could drive past me and I'm only just thinking to mention it now.

I feel like I've been saying this a lot, but really...what is my life.

Paleography this week concentrated on inventories and numbers and the string of words that, when put in some kind of order and paired with arbitrary numbers that have no proportional relation to each other, allegedly made up the Elizabethan currency system. Paleography sometimes takes on the flavor of a particularly tense auction, since we all want to identify a word but there are only so many words we can make out, so as we read the document we are all jumping on each other to try and get there first. This week I got "every" and "spones" (spoons) and it was quite an achievement.

Sometime in October, my mom sent me a package. Or tried to send me a package, as it still has not arrived at my doorstep. Tuesday I decided to get to the bottom of it all and trekked out past the edge of town and to the Royal Mail center, which is conveniently located in a building that looks like an overgrown gardening shed hidden behind a few large trucks and a few warehouses. I went in filled with righteous indignation, which was immediately dissipated by the sweet, friendly guy behind the window who....had no idea what to tell me. They can confirm it entered the country and then, poof! Gone. Somewhere.

All of this postal aggravation fed, I think, into a little bit of aggravation regarding class. I felt like we took two hours to cover, maybe, 20 minutes of material and the topic kept getting hijacked and I felt like no one was prepared. Frustrating, But! Adriana cooked sweet and sour for family dinner and it was delicious and, by the end of it, I was full and happy.

Class on Wednesday covered the 'second reign' of Elizabeth, which is a problematic term used to describe the 1590's, which happens to be what Prof. History is writing about right now. One presentation involved after a pause after each sentence to check on Prof. History's reaction, which was usually one of bemused exasperation and eye rolling. We almost ran out of time, and my presentation on dramatic commentary regarding the succession was a little all over the place (I feel like I've never reached the heights of that first week), but it was a great class, as it usually is.

Icarus

Am finding a very hard time keeping my head in the present, these days, as there is so much to think regarding the future. I am a person who likes to prepare, likes to set things into motion, but at the same time I need to balance preparedness with a sense of proportion, time and priorities. As the great man said himself, "Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast."

Yesterday was a stay at home and work day, which I did, except the work was on things that had nothing to do with school but things like blogging and organizing computer files. There was some reading, towards the end, but...well, see previous statement about concentration.

More or less the same case today, though it was broken up by some library time and a trip to Starbucks and Waterstone's.

Oh, I realize now I completely neglected any mention of Friday, aka HP7 day. What is there to say, really? Movie was excellent, if containing one completely unnecessary bit. The audience in our theater was primarily high school girls who screamed—full on screamed—during the snake bit, and were no less unnecessary in their tears at the end. Afterwards, Chi, MASS.B, Freelancer and I went out for Indian food, which was delicious.

Do you see, now, why I don't tend to update on the weekends? Frightfully boring. But I felt I needed to check in.

Excited for Thanksgiving this week, and maybe a trip to Reading? And to be home in three weeks, and maybe a day trip to London. And lots of things, really.

"Wisely and slow..."

Generic Rundown

Falling behind, as per usual.

Wednesday felt somewhat like a pointless day. The article I read for history (on the differences between the cult of the marriageable virgin versus the cult of the virgin goddess in regards to images of Elizabeth) was really interesting, but I was called on to present last, by which most most of the pertinent information had already been covered. Then I went to the outdoor market with MASS.B to get Caribbean food and met up with Chi.Roomie for some sushi, but by the time my udon came it was time to run for the train, so I ate barely half of it. Except when we got to the train station, we had the train time wrong and there was still 15 min to spare. Curses.

Through all this I had been carrying my computer, thinking I would work in the library, except I didn't,  just had my computer.

I don't mean to give them impression this was a horrible day, or anything. None of it was upsetting, but it was all kind of "*sigh*...really? Of course." Also, it was raining and cold, like most days here have been recently.

Evening ended better than the day, though, Went to MASS.B's and Adriana and Chi.Roomie came over and we had (vegetarian*) toad n the hole and watched 'Forgetting Sarah Marshall,' in between a  mini-dance party and some wrapping up of research assignments. Felt good, felt cozy.

Thursday morning I went through the rigmarole of turning in my first official assignment, which involved converting files to pdf, mocking up a work around version of a cover sheet, emailing a copy and turning in a hard copy (with receipt).

But then! The last installment of the HP film festival...with brunch! MASS.B made pancakes, Sunny made fruit salad and (with Chi's help) a big plate of toast and I cooked up some sausages and scrambled a big plate of eggs. Holy lord, that was some good eating.

If It Looks Like an 'R,' It's Probably a 'C'

Yesterday was a library and errand running day, so you will forgive me if I skip a description to get right to today...the start of Paleography!

That's right, kids. Paleography began today! There are about eleven of us in the class, which consists of MASSCHRE students and research students from both the Institute and Birmingham, and we met this morning at the Shakespeare Birthplace to begin our journey into the wonderful world of Elizabethan secretarial hand (pictured).

The theory goes, by the end of the class, we will be able to easily read documents written in this style of flourishes, blots and abbreviations that surely must have made sense at the time. We went over the alphabet this morning and then transcribed a scene from 1 Henry IV and the birth record of one "guye fawxe." The scene was (relatively) straight forward, but the christening record was a nightmare. I found myself getting irrationally angry at whatever sixteenth century scribe was responsible for the church document. Didn't he know better than to let his letters overlap like that?!

In between class, MASS.B and I went on a search for a pine scented Christmas candle that would provide me with olfactory holiday joy while not bankrupting my feeble student savings. A compromise was found in the form of some incense oil at Crabtree and Evelyn, and it has been happily burning since I got home. Success!

Playwrights was also a new experience, as the illustrious Prof. Plays has subbed out and now we have two weeks of Prof. Books. As you might have gathered, the topic of today's class was the book and print trade in Shakespeare's day, with particular attention paid to distribution of Catholic items and the role, types and extent of censorship.

Remainders:

• Made the undeniably questionable decision to trim my own bangs somewhere around midnight last night. As no one has noticed, I have to deduce I didn't screw them up too badly.
• It is, as I have may have mentioned, very cold in English homes and to stave off hypothermia we have begun using the heat. Unlike my home in Virginia, the layout of the house favors doors, which we have to keep closed to trap the heat in whatever rooms are being used at the time. The result is that I have, for the past few weeks, felt remarkably like I am living in some elaborate French farce and will, at any moment, open a door to find an Italian flight attendant on my couch.
• A residential complex en route to the Institute has put Christmas lights in its trees. I am unspeakably pleased.
• Tomorrow, we will be covering Elizabeth in history class. Tomorrow is November 17. November 17 is Accession Day. Nerd alert!

Tea and Cake or Death

The weekend was primarily devoted to doing all the work I could have/should have been doing during Reading Week, but there was still some time for frivolity. We had another family dinner on Saturday (one of the British students cooked toad in the hole, which was delicious), we watched the fourth and fifth Potter movie, and played many, many rounds of Gin Rummy*. So, there were things.

Including...are you ready for this?...church.

Yes, that's right. I went to church. On a Sunday. And no one had died, and no one was getting married. It was just a service.

Now, before everyone gets excited or concerned or whatever reaction the idea of a more Godly-emma inspires in you, I should explain my reasons for going. First, it was the Sunday after Remembrance Day, which, in Britain, is actually a time to reflect and remember those who have died in war rather than a time to take a day off from work to barbecue and see a superhero movie. Second, the service was at Holy Trinity. Third, I actually do have quite a bit of faith, even if it is not expressed through an organized religion. And, fourth and finally, I will do anything once for the experience of having done it.

The idea of going to church, then, was not as alien as it might initially appear. The actual getting to church, however, proved to be an issue. Being conscientious girls of a respectful nature, both Chi.Roomie and I put on nice clothes before heading out. For Chi, this meant high heels and, for me, it meant tights.

Terrible idea, girls! It was maybe a quarter of the way there before Chi's feet started killing her (the shoes hadn't been broken in yet). Meanwhile, I hadn't realized the tights I grabbed were both too big and too old to retain their elastic quality. About every five steps I had to stop and do this weird little hop-step-jump-pull thing, as my inseam was perpetually threatening to dip below my hemline.

Made it to the church with only a tiny amount of undignified behavior and found MASS.B in the pews. The service was...well, it was everything I kind of knew I felt about church as a concept. The hymns were lovely, and uplifting, and gave hope and strength and spoke to all the things I find comforting about religion. The communion was, as it always is, totally baffling to me. I feel absolutely no need to pretend to drink Christ's blood or consume his flesh, nor can I can I fathom any version of any world in which I don't see it as pretend. The whole thing just leaves me cold, and also serves to remind me that, while I believe in Jesus as a person and a symbol of a better way to live in a communal world, I am not on board with him being much more than that.

Finally, the gospel that was read (is it even called that? I don't know my church vocabulary) was the section of Luke where Jesus addresses his followers and observes "You will be hated by all for my name’s sake." The passage is, of course, referring to the persecution of Christian's for their beliefs, but all I could hear was a message to all people of who get persecuted because of their beliefs or lifestyles, and who get so persecuted in the name of one religion or another. And that reminded of everything I don't like about organized religion as a whole, and how many problems it causes, and how much pain, and the hypocritical nature of so much of it, and why I don't go to church.

These are my things. I understand why people go to church, and I also understand that those who cause the problems are a very small proportion of a very large community; I don't mean to paint everyone with an unfair brush. This is just why God and I interact in a more informal way.

One thing that I did really enjoy, though, was the fact that Queen Elizabeth was part of the prayers. Obviously, we are praying for the second of that name, but to sit where, 400 years ago, people prayed for the original? Pretty cool historical echoes happening, right there.

The walk home, like the walk there, presented issues. Issues that wound up being resolved by me shimmying out of my tights in the middle of the street, in front of the Company theatre complex, and giving Chi a ridiculous piggy back ride up Bridge Street.

I'm sure God was down with it.



*We've started a spreadsheet for scores...this is going to be an all year thing, I think.

Get Out Your Taco Dress

Footie on Friday was ridiculous. There was more rain than I think we ever played in, and the pitch was absolutely saturated with water and resembled more a swamp than a field. The mud was intense enough that I came very close to losing my shoes in it more than a few times, though I did avoid actually winding up wiping out in it. Other players, however, were not so lucky...

No magical scoring opportunities this time, but one of the SFM told me after the game that I've gotten much better at keeping the ball and that I've been improving. The only time I ever played soccer was in PE, and was rubbish at it, so it's really encouraging to hear that I'm (kind of) picking it up now. I like the feeling of getting better at something, especially something athletic because that's never really been my wheelhouse, but I've put more effort into in the past year, with the running and the gym-ing and whatnot. Also, footie's just a lot of fun.

In the continuing adventures of the HP Movie Marathon, we moved on the third one last night....but last night, there were also TACOS. Delicious, delicious tacos. Keeper came over early and helped Chi and I cook, and we put on Christmas music and it was incredibly homey and like a family dinner. The others gradually appeared, including Hal, who (being British) is a relative Taco newbie and there was a whole thing about what is a taco and what is a tortilla and how does one fold it and how does one make a proper one, etc.

I just loved everything about it. Our house is becoming a gathering place and it reminds me of the sorority penthouse and of WHTW and being at home and it just filled my cold heart with love and warmth to be surrounded by wonderful people eating and laughing and enjoying each others company before settling down to watch a movie and just...be together.

And we're doing it again tonight!

Oxford Snapshots [Picture This]

Oxford [We Get Around]

(the following was written with the help of Chi.Roomie, who was acting tour guide during the trip and who has a better memory than I do)

After not feeling well Wednesday, and thereby not doing any work, the responsible thing would have been to lock it down on Thursday and Get Things Done.

What did I do on Thursday?

I took a day trip to Oxford.

Keeper, MASS.B, Chi, Sunny and I headed off in the early morning (well, for me) and arrived in the city at about 11am. Our first stop in this historic town? The covered market to eat Ben's Cookies and drink milkshakes from a place called Moo-Moo's that had something like 200 different flavors (might I recommend the hazelnut chocolate chip cookie shake? Delectable). There was also a cake store in the market that had large glass windows, allowing you to watch the decorators ply their trade. I was endlessly fascinated by the fondant-applying process. It gets so smooth!

Stomachs full and sugar count elevated, we meandered to the part of town where Learning lived. We circled the Radcliffe Camera a bit before debating the merits of the different Bodleian Library tours, finally settling on the audio guide which covered information regarding the Quadrangle and the Divinity School. Though the tour was a bit bare bones, we did learn some interesting (and staggering) things about the library. FOR EXAMPLE: The Bodleian houses 173 km of shelves and receive 1,000 books and 2,000 periodicals per week. That's...ridiculous.

Also, the Divinity School was used in the Harry Potter films! As both the infirmary in the second movie and the site for dance lessons in the fourth. Lots of Oxford were used for various Hogwarts locations, actually, and Sunny and I were at least as excited to these places as film sets as we were to appreciate their storied histories. The theme was whistled quite a bit.

After the Bodleian, we killed time before Christ Church College reopened (it was closed for lunch) at Blackwells (supposedly the largest independent bookstore in the world). I lucked out and found a book I needed for class in the secondhand Shakespeare section for a steal and poked around the rare/antiquarian floor for a bit. No Peter Pans, but a few very old copies of Emma.

The cathedral at Christ Church was closed, unfortunately, but we did get in to see the cloisters, the dining hall/dining hall staircase (which inspired and was used for the one in...you guessed it...Harry Potter) and the main quad (shooting site for 'The Golden Compass'). That dining hall, man. My goodness.

Next and final cultural stop was the Ashmolean Museum. We got there kind of late, I was for one was fading a bit, so I don't know if I explored it in the manner it truly deserved. I did, however, get to see what was apparently Henry VIII's falconry glove and falcon hood and a glove belonging to Mary Queen of Scots, as well as (are you ready for this?) the lantern said to have been carried by Guy Fawkes when he was apprehended underneath Parliament. History!

The night ended at The Mission, a Chipotle-like burrito joint, and then some downtime at a pub (we had tried to go the Eagle and Child, where Tolkein and Carroll used to hang out, but it was too crowded) before the long train back.

Way better than working, if you ask me.

On the Home Front

Plumber came on Monday to look at my shower which, wonderful as it is being a proper shower and all, had the unpleasant habit of smelling like a sewer whenever I used taps. He was very speedy (and...is this weird of me to say?...smelled bizarrely good) and seemed to have fixed the problem, except, ever since, I have been finding drain parts hidden in bizarre places in my bathroom. It's like an industrial Easter Bunny has come and gone, but instead of bright colored eggs I'm finding drain covers and pipe joints. Why? To what purpose were these left? Am I supposed to do something with them? Can they be combined to form some sort of time machine or anti-gravity device?

The world may never know.

In other adventures of mundane accomplishment, I am once again back on medication! AND IT'S FREE. That's really all I have to say about that, except that it did feel illicit walking out of Boots without paying for my little bag of pills.

Haven't been writing much this week because there is very little to report on. It's Reading Week, so no classes, only lots of library time and time spent at home working on things. Did have people over last night for pizza and the second installment of the Harry Potter pre-gaming movie marathon, and today I took a sick day (lady problems) which was spent happily ensconced in various large, warm blankets, drinking tea and cocoa and watching this absolute wonderful show called 'Downton Abbey.' It's like 'Gosford Park,' only a series and I adore it. Here is the preview:



Sadly, British TV seasons are painfully short (seven episodes, in this one), so I will be completely finished with it by the end of the weekend. Apparently NBC has expressed interest in picking it up? Don't know how I feel about that. And, just so you know, the anachronistic music was only for the trailer. Servants don't randomly start chorally singing 'Poker Face' or other such nonsense.

Finally, received the news yesterday that my supplemental loan was approved! Huzzah! Will loosen up my finances just enough that I can go to Starbucks every now and then or buy school supplies without feeling frivolous and wasteful. It's a big relief.

That's all for now? I think that is.

Of Health and Healthcare

There are lots of things I would much rather be doing on a cold, rainy Monday morning before 9am than heading out into the world for a doctor's appointment, and all of them involve some combination of my bed, my pajamas, my duvet and a half-conscious state of being. Alas, to the doctor's I had to go. My enthusiasm was in no way heightened by the fact I had dreamt of said doctor's appointment, and so woke up with a sense of "I JUST DID THIS!" Not fair.

My little medical center is, luckily, not so far away. It reminds me oddly of the smaller elementary schools in my hometown, I think because of the brick walls and the fact that it's not in a suite in an office park but its own proper building. The nurses wear bright blue uniforms and are chipper in a way that no one has a right to be so early in the morning, but is nonetheless appreciated since it puts one at ease.

Nothing was really wrong with me, I just wanted to go back on the medication I had stopped taking once college graduation had thrust me into the cruel hard reality of the uninsured. You know what I had to do to get a new prescription? Have my blood pressure taken and affirm that a) I'm not a smoker and b) I don't have blood clotting issues. You know how much my medication is going to cost me? NOTHING. Nada. Zip. Zilch. You know what's totally awesome?

Nationalized healthcare.

Seriously. It is the best. For the past two years I have avoided the doctor at all costs because I didn't have insurance. On a trip to Boston, I fell so ill my friends wanted to take me to the hospital, but I wouldn't let them because I was afraid of the cost. I haven't set foot in a medical establishment since graduating NYU without giving myself a minor panic attack over whether or not I would have enough in my bank account to cover whatever they found.

Through all of this, I was working 30-40 hours a week, as well as actively trying to find a job—any job—that would come with some kind of health care plan. I'm college educated, upper middle class and a naturally born citizen of the US, and for two years I couldn't afford medical services. If I had had a serious medical condition or emergency...I don't even know what would have happened.

You tell me America has the best healthcare in the world, I'll tell you it does those of us who can't access it absolutely no good.

Remember, Remember...

... the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent
To blow up the King and Parli'ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Hulloa boys, Hulloa boys, let the bells ring.
Hulloa boys, hulloa boys, God save the King!

Ah yes, a pyromaniac's favorite time of the year! Bonfire Night! Also known as Guy Fawkes Night! That time when all true Englishmen turn out to celebrate the undoing of the infamous Gunpowder Plot and teach their children the fine art of burning figures in effigy.

We had been hearing fireworks all weekend but, though the fifth this year was on a Friday, the true celebration was last night at a rugby pitch just over the river Avon. An intrepid group of Americans ventured out into the cold for a little cultural experience.

It reminded me a bit of a homecoming game combined with the fourth of July. Large crowds of people bundled up against the cold, drinking hot cocoa and tea and mulled wine and many children running about with glow ropes (I wound up with one as well...nostalgia is a powerful force), and pop music playing at full volume.

It took us longer than it should have to find the bonfire, which was HUGE. Reminded me of a cross between the Les Mis revolve and the burning of Atlanta from 'Gone With the Wind.' A straw figure representing Guy Fawkes stood above the inferno, dressed in black, awaiting his fiery doom. It was well creepy. He looked too much like a real human and, when he eventually and inevitably went up in flames, the body-shaped column of fire was more than a bit disturbing. I felt like I was, literally, watching hell.

But who's really going to complain about a silly thing like imprinting young minds with a vivid depiction of 'living' cremation when there is FIRE to enjoy? Because, my gosh, fire is oddly fascinating. We must have spent an hour just watching the huge pile of wood burn and reveling in the warmth. What weird creatures human are.

To further satisfy our love of watching things combust, there were fireworks. Proper ones, as well! Some how I had it my mind that, not having an Independence Day, England's fireworks would be some form of pitiful, but oh, how wrong I was. These were huge and plentiful and gorgeous, and included these kind of slow shooting star ones I had never seen before. I will say the timing was awkward...the display lacked a rhythm and, more than once, I thought they were over before they were. Regardless, well done, SUA Rugby Club! It was quite enjoyable.

It was barely 8 when all of this finished, so those I was with headed back to the house for a night of cookies, tea and 'Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone." I am so excited for the next movie! I hope to re-read the books soon, though I don't think I'll have time before the 19th....more than enough time to watch all the movies, though!

Week Seven [10 Quid Challenge]

Purchased: apples, onions, cocoa, enchilada sauce, corn tortillas, bread, soup (3 cans), milk

Total: £9.62

Result: SUCCESS

Game Analysis: These have gotten pretty boring, haven't they? Sorry, dear reader. I've set a precedent, I have to follow it through. Anyway, I was really excited for enchiladas this week until I realized I had forgotten to buy cheese...just means next week is going to be out-of-this-world exciting because I will have enchiladas AND MAYBE SOMETHING ELSE. Seriously, if anyone tries to feed me an omelet while I'm in America for Christmas, I am going to punch them in the face.

'The Insatiate Countess'

Realized I promised a further account of the events of cup change day, but, sadly, there is not much to report except to say that 'The Insatiate Countess' is a hilarious play to read aloud. The main plot revolves around a countess who has a voracious appetite for men, hilariously falling in love with ever man she meet and then trying to get them to kill whatever lover she just abandoned.

Then there is this ridiculous (aren't they all?) subplot about two newlywed couples wherein the grooms hate each other so they decide to cuckold one another, which the brides quickly discover and then use the bed trick so that no one, in fact, cheats on anyone. But the husbands THINK their wives have cheated on them, so, to avoid the shame, they both confess to the murder of someone who, it turns out, is very much alive.

Anyway, it was hilarious. There is a Spanish character who was played by a Spanish research student not afraid to really sink his teeth into the role (and play up the accent like whoa). It was especially funny because of how many awful slant rhymes he had, so he was constantly changing the pronunciation of things to make them rhyme, like 'prove' and 'love.' A lot of the female characters wound up on their knees for various reason, so the readers were constantly falling out of their chairs, and Prof. Plays (who edited the Oxford edition of this and three other plays) had a protracted injury scene that saw him writhing about the floor of the lounge, moaning.

Since then, I've really been just doing work (save the epic footie game on Friday). Lots of library time, lots of reading, lots of laundry. I'm currently working on an annotated bibliography for Research, an essay for History and gathering things for a thesis proposal. Not so much I feel overwhelmed, but enough that I'm always doing something.

On that note:

It does not appear to be very important whether Shakespeare or Bacon wrote [the plays]. The thing that is important is that we now posses them and that they contain a world of wisdom for the student of human nature...Regardless of the authorship of these profound and wonderful delineations of human nature, we have them for our instruction and entertainment. We can study them for their intrinsic value--especially for the great heart lessons they teach us--and reflect that gems from any other pen would have like worth.

-L.W. Rogers

Found that while reading. I am a complete Stratfordian, but I think this gets to the crux of my feelings on the authorship 'debate.'

Mail shout out to Mom and Mary Lee! Loved getting your cards (:

Play Hard or Go Home

Spent Friday morning being outrageously productive. I feel like I get so much more done here than at home, it's ridiculous. Maybe because I'm working on things I like? Iunno. I filled out all kinds of paper work, sent some emails, was generally awesome. Also, caught up on this blog, so if you missed the posts from the Halloween party or Halloween proper, just know they are there!

The day's big highlight was my triumphant return to the footie pitch. There have been, counting this one, six footie games since I got here. I have played in 3-1/2. The half game was the only one that wasn't in the rain. It was cold and wet and the pitch was covered in slick leaves and slippery mud. Time to get dirty.

When we started, it was only three-on-three, MASSCHRE Buddy (from now on abbreviated as MASS.B), Slater and I versus another SFM and two others. It was a lot of running. A lot. But also, a lot of time with the ball, which was really useful as usually I kind of avoid it.

Slowly, the pitch populated until it was more like seven-on-seven. By this time it was already abundantly clear that, if you didn't go home covered in mud, you hadn't played hard enough. People were slipping and sliding and wiping out in comically epic fashions every which way. Attempting to kick the ball forward, I wound up on my backside in a comic pratfall.

It was so much fun.

Wound up playing offense by default, since I just tend to set up wherever a hole is. Freelancer and I had a nice little passing maneuver at one point that could have fooled the casual observer into thinking we knew what we were doing. I kept narrowly missing scoring opportunities, which was pretty much to be expected. That is...until I didn't!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL! I scored a goal! It was maddeningly exciting. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time and managed to get it past Hal, who was playing keeper at the time (much to the relief of the mighty Bibs because, my God, that kid is good at footie). Slater made some kind of encouraging yell along the lines of the ball being "tortured!" and I was ecstatic. My first footie goal!

We broke for the half and then came back to the pitch...only to have it happen again! I SCORED A SECOND GOAL. This will probably never happen again, so I'm going to crow about it. MASS.B picked me up and whirled me around in celebration, which I always love, and Hal started instructing people to "watch that girl she's going for a hat trick!*"

I believe he had just made such an announcement when all of a sudden I found myself on the ground having taken a rocketing football to the face.

Ow.

My gosh, did that smart. It literally knocked me to the muddy earth, depositing a decent amount of dirt on my visage as well. Play was briefly interrupted while it was determined I was alive and could recognize how many fingers people held up, and then I kind of shook it off and we were back. Hardcore!

Wound up losing the game (half the time we don't keep score, just play until it gets dark enough for someone to call next goal to win), but so fun! So fun. Was going to go to the pub for a drink, but as it was super crowded, wound up at Sbux instead. Mmmm...peppermint cocoa....

Celebrated Bonfire night at my dining room table, playing gin rummy with MASS.B and the roomies and drinking cider. I think we'll go out properly on Sunday.

Play on!

*Now would be a good time to point out that many, many people scored—and tend to score—multiple goal at footie, including MASS.B and TX.Roomie, who both had two goals as well that day. I think I was just the most obnoxiously demonstrative about it.

Happy Cup Change Day!

Early Thursday afternoon was actually busier than usual. Went to the Pub with Chi.Roomie for lunch with some other Institute students, was on the tea rota for seminar and so had to set that up (sliced the pad of my pinkie in the process, damn broken glass pitcher), attended seminar (on the importance of music in performance), served the tea, washed up, had a Players meeting. Lots to do! But, really, it was all a prelude to the most magical event in my entire live-long year.

Cup Change Day.

What is Cup Change Day, you ask? It is the day Starbucks changes their white cups to red. It is the official beginning of my Christmas season, the most glorious period of every year, the time when I literally want to hug strangers I am so in love with the world. It is, simply, the most glorious day imaginable.

Cup Change Day was always an important day to me, but it really took hold my sophomore year of college when, coming off a stressful freshmen year Christmas, I decided waiting until after Thanksgiving just didn't give me enough time to enjoy the season. That's when I started researching CCD, harassing unsuspecting baristas from mid-October on so that I would know the exact date of the magical transformation. I still hold things until Black Friday (decorating, Christmas movies, advent calendars, cookies), but by allowing my season a "soft opening" from which point I can listen to holiday music, buy presents and burn pine scented candles, I find I sustain the love longer and just enjoy it more.

CCD, I'm proud to say, is spreading. Every year, I have people text, email or post Cup Change Day greetings and pictures of their red cups to me. The year after I left my job in New York, my department sent me a picture of day's worth of red cups gathered in the common kitchen. My roommates and I once tried to build a tree out of the cups and, though it failed, the dream is unabandoned. I have a small collection of red cup ceramic ornaments people have given me through the years.

Just observe the Facebook testimonials from this year:

feliz cup change day!!

I just got back from a Starbucks run and thought of you!

EMMA I AM CURRENTLY HOLDING THE FIRST HOLIDAY CUP OF THE SEASON. i would leave you a video showing it to you but i feel like that would make it less exciting on YOUR cup change day! HAPPY CUP CHANGE DAY FROM ACROSS THE SEA! our season has BEGUN!

I was going to get starbucks today with my associate buyer at work and i was like OMG IT'S CUP CHANGE DAY!!! and she stared at me as if I had 5 heads and was like um what did you just say??? and I explained - the tradition lives onnnnn!!! hahah (but my associate buyer still thought I was crazy...)

so, last night in class my friend was like "whoa! a red sbux cup already?!" and i said "why yes, it is cup change day" the girl beside her says "whay is this? there is an official day?" about 4 chain reactions later, i ended up making an annoucement to a silenced classroom about emma p. and cup change day. it's an official holiday in the Harvard/Cambridge area now :)

Wonderful. It fills my heart with great Joy to know others recognize the wonder of CCD.

Being a CCD missionary, it is my duty to spread the love to others, which is why, after the washing up had finished, I found myself leading a group of about ten Institute students down to the Sbux on Church street. Chi.Roomie created a whole photo essay of the emma-gets-her-first-red-cup process. After much deliberation, I decided the first drink of the season was to be a peppermint hot cocoa and, by God, if it didn't taste just like hot liquid Christmas.

The rest of the night was also excellent and shall be covered in a new post! Until I get to it, though, a very merry Cup Change Day to you all! May your days be merry and bright and all your lattes gingerbread!

Rollin'

History class is, really, the highlight of my week, but I found myself a little distracted during yesterday's class because I knew, at the end of it, we would get our papers back. STRESS.

The topic was parliamentary politics in Renaissance England, something I know NOTHING about. Seriously, nothing. There were two houses? Right? And...sometimes people got elected? But they didn't? And Parliament did things? But not really? I have no idea.

My article was on popular political ideology in London, and started by saying "there's no way we can really tell what the popular political ideology was at the time." Um, thanks? There were highlights, though, as in any history class. For example! When the Queen visited Warwick in 1572, a fireworks/cannon display burned down four houses. And in one of the 14 contested election of 1604 in Worcestershire, there was a vote by noise. As in, cheer the loudest for your favorite candidate and whoever is the loudest wins.

Before I get to my paper grade, here's how the breakdown of grades works here:

MA/Diploma pass with distinction

• 80: Exceptionally mature work, particularly with regard to originality and articulation.
• 75-79: Outstanding on all counts, with no weaknesses. Plentiful evidence of critical reflection and original thinking.
• 70-74: Excellent work. Strong on most criteria, with evidence of critical reflection on the issues involved.

MA/Diploma pass with merit

• 60-69: Very good work. Strong on most counts, and satisfactory on all counts, showing critical insight and an ability to appraise evidence.

MA/Diploma pass

• 50-59: Work of at least a satisfactory standard on most of assessed criteria

Resubmission required

• 40-49: Unsatisfactory. Fails substantially short in a number of categories. Needs reworking to be considered of pass standard.
• 0-39: Unsatisfactory. Fails to satisfy in any of the categories. Needs very extensive work in order to reach pass standard.

That's what we're working with. On my first postgraduate paper and the first paper I've written in over two years....I got a 67*! I'm well pleased. I feel like that puts me in a really good position to improve and maybe get a pass with distinction on my next paper, and makes me feel more confident because it shows I'm starting at a pretty okay level.

Registered to be an ad hoc worker (I need a job so very badly) and then started researching the next big paper before CREMS, which was on the Imitatio Christi and the Early Modern Jesuits. It was a confusing paper because he didn't explain what the Imitatio Christi was or who Ignatius was, but that was the basis of the entire paper. I was very lost and spent about half of it contemplating thesis ideas. On the bright side, I think I have one?

*Is it totally uncouth to post my grade? Does that bother people? It occurred to me that maybe that's some kind of faux pas. I use this blog primarily to communicate with people at home, but if anything here bothers people in my daily life, please alert me!

And Another Thing...Or Two...

Two things I forgot to mention from plays:

1) Prof. Plays used the revels books to show how modern day historians piece together information from the time to form a pseudo-cohesive whole, including things like the masque he gave the Thursday seminar on. We get these impressions—not actual insights or even particularly clear ideas—of what these performances were like from prop lists, fabric inventories, brief mentions in letters, thread bills and what have you. It's as much detective work as it is research. A kind of distant logic puzzle. And I think that's fascinating. As frustrating as it is that we don't know exactly where Billy Shakes was on any given day (or any given decade, for that matter), I appreciate the fact that everything we do know had to be figured out. I'm not sure how I feel that the time we live in afford no mystery for future generations.

2) During a discussion of the Julian and Gregorian calendars messing up dates, Prof. Plays mentioned that Platter's account of the premiere of Julius Caesar being on September 21 could be countered with an argument it was actually on September 11, but "that day now has other associations." There was a beat and then one of the Brits in the class kind of went "haha, oh yeah!" and turned to look at us two Americans with a smile on her face. Now, I quite like the girl in question and I know she didn't mean anything by it, but I was a little taken aback by how immediately and, in a way, deeply offended I was by the action. It was just a fleeting moment, but there was something about it. It reminded me of that old adage about other people making fun of your family, or whatever it is.

Anyway, the moment passed and I'm not going to hold on to it or anything. It doesn't affect the way I feel about the girl as a person, it just gave me a lot to think about and made me realize how much 9/11 is now bound up in my national identity. It really was my first true bout of culture shock.

Vacation's Over

Having Tau here was like a glorious little mini-break. Now, the real world comes back.

And I was ready for it! Yesterday, after walking Tau to the train station, I truly earned the title "responsibility champion." I went to the shops for food! I went for a run! I registered with my doctor and made a follow-up appointment! I filled out bank forms for the Players*! I contacted people about my supplemental loan! I read for class! I was, generally, epically productive.

Until noon. Once noon rolled around, I was useless. But look at everything I did before! And then, in the evening, I had a glorious Skype date with my Sister to watch 'Nightmare Before Christmas' together.

I'm so pumped for Christmas, I can't even tell you. I am walking personification of every excited anticipatory feeling anyone has ever had in the history of time. THE HISTORY OF TIME.

In between all of this eager expectation, I still have class. This morning was the last main class of Research, though us MASSCHRE folks have two more after reading week (next week) and an extra assignment. We talked about presentation and organization and it was kind of a 'let's emphasize things you already know' kind of deal. It seems I am either the only person in the class who prefers speaking extemporaneously to reading verbatim, or the only willing to raise my hand to admit it.

Plays was about the Revels Office...what they did, who was doing it, how it changed. Prof. Plays brought a really fascinating book of all the accounts from the office during Elizabeth's reign, as well as photocopy of a bill of services relating to a masque. As he only had one copy of each, we were all directed to gather in a circle on the floor. If anyone had walked into the Lounge at this point, they would have found a coven of postgraduate students hunched over the objects of inspection in crouching positions, attempting to divine 16th century secretary hand, like so many academic weird sisters. It was very bizarre.

Am still working on getting the Halloween posts up, so those should be in the next day or two. I seem to have lost my camera charger, which is part of the delay.

Never sure what to include, here. Is there anything you want to hear more about? Things you are sick of hearing about? Suggestions? I walk the line between recording for my own benefit and writing with an audience in mind, but I appreciate anyone taking the time to follow this and would like to repay the gesture by at least being moderately entertaining/interesting!

On that note, sweet mail shout out to Leslie and Aunt Betty! Thank you for your cards!

*Incorrectly, as it turns out, but WHATEVER.

Week Six [10 Quid Challenge]

Purchased: carrots, bread, milk, eggs, butter, shower gel

Total: £5.11

Result: SUCCESS

Game Analysis: Back to basics, now. I have some chicken in the freezer, some soup still left though—horror of horrors!—I am running dangerously low on peanut butter. Hoping that, by leaving some room in the budget, I can buy some exciting things next week.

Bring Out Your Dead

On Halloween proper a group of us trekked out to Mary Arden's farm to partake in a variety of appropriately morbid activities, including a Tudor wake. Upon arriving we found out there was an Italian play about to start called 'The Servant of Two Masters," done in the style of Commedia Dell'arte. Now, I pretty much hate Commedia. The Company had done a production of Shrew in the style when I was at the theater, and it was kind of painful and gave me prejudices. Even without that experience, I don't think I would like it as it is very loud and very broad and (in my mind) incredibly tiresome. But, most people seemed to want to go and I didn't want to be the jerk making a fuss, so a play it was.

All my fears confirmed! Incredibly broad, incredibly loud, somewhat repetitious. The actors were very talented, they were just starting from a place I didn't care for. The main character was very, very everywhere at once and, because the room was so small, constantly up in the audiences grill (as it were). It would up being a half-hour longer than we were originally told (and, honestly, than it should have been anyway) and left me feeling a little exhausted and impatient.

One of the features of Mary Arden's is that they have re-enactors meandering about, and we were ambushed by one at the end of the play. In the middle of the curtain call, a man dressed as a Tudor Puritan preacher appeared in the room and began to passionately preach against play going on the Sabbath before devolving into a screaming-and-crying account of the infant plague victims he buried that morning. WHAT. There are little kids in the room! And we want to leave and see the farm! Stop holding us captive! it was incredibly, incredibly awkward.

Because we were in the play so long, by the time we left there weren't many activities to see. Face painting was done, the pumpkin carving was over, the falconry demonstration was halfway over. So many lost opportunities! But the farm was still there to explore, and so we did. We found the little cute pics (pictured) and then an Institute friend who works there led us to the "wooly mammoth" pigs, who were ginormous and incredibly hairy. I also fed a horse! And we saw the falcons and the dovecote and things of that nature. It's closed for the winter, but I think going back in the spring is a sure thing.

The Tudor wake was the last event of the day and involved a procession with a cart and a man yelling "Bring out your dead!," which, sad to say, did not inspire the proper level of solemnity due to a little band of performers named Monty Python:

They stopped at a house and loaded the cart with disturbing shrouded dummies, including a number of small child figures, and then walked the cart through the farm. And thus, the dead were buried.

Tau and I met up with Freelancer at the pub for Sunday roast dinner (beef, turkey or ham with mash, veg and Yorkshire pudding) and then Tau and I came home and hung out a bit before watching 'Nightmare Before Christmas.' And thus, Halloween passed.

This is Halloween

Tau and I woke up with a plan to hang around Strats/home all day and not do much that wasn't directly related to preparing for the party that was going to be thrown at casa mia that night. Caffeine being directly related productivity and productivity being required for a successful party, we stopped by Starbucks where OH MY GOODNESS a sign outside promised that "red cups are coming." It's like they are finally recognizing the legitimacy of the holiday! I feel utterly justified.

"Preparation" really just meant a trip to the grocery store for plastic cups and extra junk food.While taking a stroll through the Halloween aisle in search of special drinking vessels (alcohol tastes better form a goblet, it is a scientific fact), I found a marked down devil costume. It was slinky but not inappropriate and, lacking a costume due to the fail of international postage practices, I bought it and a pair of similarly synthetic bright red elbow gloves. Devil take the hindmost!

Tau had brought cookie cutters in festive shapes, but, sadly, England does not seem to believe in cookie dough the way we Yankees do. We attempted smooshing chocolate chip do into pumpkin and ghosts only to be rewarded with a bunch of indistinguishable blobs. Indistinguishable TASTY blobs, though. Between the misshapen chocolate chip cookies and the Old El Paso fajitas we threw together, we wound up eating quite well.

And then there was the party!

Costumes from the night: Little Red Riding Hood (Chi.Roomie), Griffyndor student (Tau, in incredibly envy-invoking official HP robes), two pirates, the Oxford Complete Works, the textual companion to the Oxford complete works, an autumn tree (Freelancer), Dr. Who (Keeper), a butterfly (TX.Roomie), two witches, Minnie Mouse, a Greek goddess and, my personal favorite, Desdemona's handkerchief (MASSCHRE buddy). We are dorks.

Dorks who love to get down! Minnie Mouse had made a great playlist with the right amount of club tracks and theme appropriate tunes and we just had a grand old dance party for most of the night. At one point, Tau, MASSCHRE buddy and I went to the store for some more beer and I got a hefty does of cat calling (including a tiger growl...really, who does that?), which, honestly, on Halloween, I didn't mind so much. Later, Chi, MASSCHRE buddy and I went to the American fountain for some air and wound up singing bizarre showtunes and patriotic anthems. I love those random moments.

Happy Halloween, everybody! I believe it was our most horrible yet. Thank you, everyone.