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.

Creepy, Kooky, Mysterious, Spooky

Late Thursday night a dear friend and sister got into town from Scotland, where she's studying Art History. We did that sleepover thing, where you talk about how tired you are until the lights are shut off and then suddenly there is SO MUCH TO SAY! And there was a heckuva lot to catch up on.

Wound up sleeping in more than was intended, but that was okay because this was a vacation/holiday weekend without any real plans. I'm still learning how to entertain people in Strats (it will be easier when the Company re-opens), and Tau and are both easy going, so after a few rounds of "well...what do you want to do?" we decided to just go play in town for awhile, which included a trip to the Creaky Cauldron. I had mentioned this store in a previous post as a "store for people who actually think they are witches," but, while that's what it looks like, turns out I was wrong! It is, in fact, a delightful Harry Potter-styled shop that sells wands (carved on the premises), home fragrances and sweets disguised as spells, ministry of magic proclamations and other things of that nature, in a kind of waiting-for-a-ride-at-Disney* atmosphere. You can even send post by owl! And there's a tea shop at the back that claims to sell butter beer.

All of this was delightful, but there's more! The shop also holds a small kind of haunted house museum you can walk through (for a small fee, of course), lighting your way with a small electric candle. There was a Harry Potter room, a room of potions with a riddle, an incredibly creeped out nursery (children are terrifying), LOTS of dark mirrored hallways. I was very fond of it as it was only tableaux. No one jumped out at you, nothing suddenly moved. However scary it was, it was because your own brain made it that way...and, might I say, I have never pulled back curtains with more apprehension than during that little exploration.

Explored a few more shops and then got some tea before heading over to the Birthplace, where they were doing a special candlelit 'Shakespeare's Villains' event. The entry to the performance was separate from the main Birthplace entry, and you bought your tickets from the two actors trying to drum up business on the street and the guy was kind of in my grill more than I would have liked, but Tau gave as good as we got. Tau and I didn't feel like giving our real names, so we became "Pembrooke" and "Lady Rothschild" respectively for the rest of the evening, which didn't do much to further endear us to him.

Freelancer joined us for the tour, which was actually really, really cool and not a tour at all. Instead of being shown around by someone telling you about Shakespeare's life, our little group of six was led room to room by actors doing creepy scenes from Shakespeare. The porter led us to the witches, who conjured up some evil doings before bringing us before the Macbeths and then pointing the way upstairs, where Richard III was engaged in some nefarious plotting before we were then let out of the house by Hamlet, thinking about what happens after death. The performances were surprisingly strong for something like this, and because each room had it's own separate scene, you had time to really absorb the atmosphere. I especially loved that the discussion of murdering the princes was done in the nursery. Great touch.

Ended at the pub, as all the best days do.

*I mean that as a good thing. Think of the line for the Hollywood Tower of Terror—the attention to detail in the set decoration is insane. It was like that, only for a shop looking like it came from Diagon alley.

Bible Study

Thursday seminar was on whether or not Shakespeare was at all involved in the 1611 King James Bible. A fascinating thought, but I felt the lecture was a little bit of a tease...here's an interesting idea! One we have no supporting proof for! He did do a good job of presenting how the idea was first raised though. I guess I'm just disappointed there wasn't anything to back up the thoughts. Learned loads about the Bible, though.

Tea returned to Thursday seminar! Glorious.

Had a BritGrad (conference run by Institute students) afterwards, which served to elect members of the core committee. I ran for Registration, which was as contested as Chair, oddly enough. Didn't win, which only bothered me in that I could have run for (and probably gotten, as no one seemed to really want it) Treasurer if the order of elections was changed, but on the other hand, I'm already the Treasurer for one organization. There's only so much money management I can handle! And I will (hopefully) serve on one of the subcommittees. No great loss.

After all the meetings had completed a handful of us went to a friend's house to help her receive a sofa. For approximately 10 minutes light labor (the lone male got to actually haul the coach while us females took a cushion each, thereby setting back feminism at least a few hours) she fed us pizza, wine and chocolate and we all just kind of hung out. Wound up drinking 1/2 a bottle of wine and being quite tipsy by the time I returned home, but sobered up by the time I had to meet my friend at the train station. Win all around.

So You Want to Get a PhD in the Humanities

So tragically funny because it's so tragically true.

"To Quote..."

Social and Cultural History of Renaissance England day! Prof. History was in high spirits, as a book she contributed to has just come out and we were covering her area of expertise, gentry and idea of gentility in the English Renaissance. In fact, that's what she had contributed on article on in the aforementioned book. Thus, throughout class she would gleefully punctuate her thoughts with a "To quote [her name]..." and then read from her article, which I found delightful and vastly entertaining.

She also threw herself into a physical reenactment of the Earl of Essex wading to shore to knight someone for meeting a boat, tried to tell Jacobean jokes ("It is funny! It is. When I remember it properly, it's even funnier.") and denied posthumously stalking Philip Howard.

Presentations covered the Castlehaven scandal, decorations on funeral monuments and my own on dueling (managing a bit more coherence than last week, thank God). I sometimes get a little bummed we aren't doing more Shakespeare text work this term, but really, I'm enjoying myself so much I can't really complain. This class is one of the best I've ever taken, in any subject, and it happens to be a subject I love. Win.

Within This Wooden 'O'

Playwrights today was about actors and theaters. We spent some time looking at a map of Shakespeare's London, analyzing bits of writing relating to a play about Henry VII, discussed Henslowe's business practices and his (probable) introduction of the first actor contracts and mulled over why there are no extant Elizabethan or Jacobean plays with comedic moose.

However, the most insightful bit of learning most surely came from the detail drawing of the Globe that Prof. Plays provided for us:

Please note the trumpeter at the very top and the brightly shining sun. One cannot truly appreciate the works of Shakespeare without details such as this.

Loves it.

London Snapshots [Picture This]

This Is Just to Say

Just turned in the first paper of my MA experience, a 2,000 word unassessed essay on to what extent (and why) London because the social, cultural and political capital of Renaissance England. Feeling....okay about it. I did a lot of research, almost half of which wound up not being used. I think my argument is clear if not brilliantly eloquent, and I think I could have used more specific examples. As an undergraduate paper, I would think it's fine. As a postgraduate paper?

Well, it's unassessed. Time for the next one!

Research this morning was on citations which, of course, gave me a lot of concern in writing said essay. I kind of felt like Robbie Hart in The Wedding Singer when Linda explains why she stood him up at the alter:

Once again, things that could've been brought to my
attention YESTERDAY!

That said, I don't know that it would have been soooo terribly helpful, since class focused on MLA and our tutors prefer Chicago. Now I'm in a break between classes, hanging out at the library and listening to the rain fall.

Not much to report, just felt like checking in.

Remainders/Shout-Outs:

• I am always fascinated by how people find my blogs if they aren't blood relations or Facebook friends, and so I'm mildly obsessed with Blogger's statistic feature. Found out today that searching "Candy Girls Dolls" via blogs.icebucket will somehow lead you here. I don't know what that person was trying to search, but I bet they were dissatisfied.
• Kind of on that note, hello to whoever is reading this Denmark and Brazil!
• Super Skyping shout-outs to David, Ashley, Jackie, Jacey, Gracie, Victoria and my parents! Have loved talking to you all over the past few weeks!
• Super mail shout-outs to Jess and Dad! Got your cards yesterday!

Week Five [10 Quid Challenge]

Purchased: bread, milk, soup (3), breadcrumbs, mozzarella, apples, flour, garlic, tomato sauce

Total: £8.67

Result: SUCCESS

Game Analysis: After last week's disaster, we are back to form. Staples, a few necessary ingredients (there is chicken parm in my future!) and some stockpile items. I might need more eggs before the week is out, but there is room to maneuver and I still have latkes, sandwich material and that old stand by, pasta. Feeling good about eating, this week.

I Feel Home Again [No Place Like London]

Saturday the roomies and I trekked into London town for various celebrations and good times. The main activity was, of course, to experience the wonder that is Love Never Dies, but even if that hadn't worked out, I was beside myself with excitement to return to what will always be the first city of my heart. I was going back to London!

After a bus and a train, we alighted at Marleybone, and I continued to grin stupidly about commonplace things. The tube! Oyster machine! Platform ads! Sadly, we did not have to take a Piccadilly line train to Cockfosters*, but we DID take a Bakerloo line train to Piccadilly, and that was thrilling enough.

Tickets were secured at Leicester Square, as was the presence of one of my best friends from London2, Belle**. There was a definite urge to tackle hug her out of sheer excitement, but I was prevented by a line barrier and minuscule sense of social propriety. But she was there! I was there! It was all too wonderful.

TX split off after lunch to see museums, but since Chi and I had no real plans for the day, we just kind of meandered about Covent Garden with Belle. Cookies were purchased at Ben's (just had one for breakfast, I swear they are filled with delicious chocolate flavored sugar crack), a stroll was taken through Bedford Square and to my favorite Waterstone's near ULU, Chi bought a hat. It was just a kind of easy, no pressure day, spent revisiting my old haunts. It was both lovely and bizarre, since being back in that area with Belle kind of erased the last 16 months. Wasn't I just here? Am I running late for my shift at the Theater? Will Poster Boy be at the pub? Questions that aren't applicable and yet I found myself half-wondering.

Belle had to leave us at one point, but then we met up with another dear friends, Mod, by my old theater and went for tea and catch up before going to the stage door of The Lion King to surprise one more London2 friend. When I had left England, he had just been about to start his contract as a swing (a kind of super understudy, though we teased him that he was actually going to be playing the pivotal role of Baby Simba) and I hadn't even been sure he was still in the show. Belle, Chi and I had checked at the theater earlier in the day, only to find out that not only was he still in the show, but he was going on that afternoon as Mufasa. My little Baby Simba is all grown up! Luckily for my wallet, tickets were sold out, but I was a tad gutted I couldn't see him perform.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there. He is terrible at Facebook and so didn't realize I was back in the country, and I no longer had his number to tell him I was going to drop by, so there was a long while of waiting at the stage door hoping we wouldn't miss him, but (as you might have guessed) we didn't! It was great to see him (as it was to see all of my London2 darlings), especially as we were kind of rubbish about keeping in touch since I left. He took us (Chi, Mod and I) for coffee and we chatted a bit about his gig and my course** and America and things. It turns out he goes on quite frequently (though not always as Mufasa) and I think Chi and I might come back to the city during reading week to try and catch the show.

Sitting outside Starbucks we ran into another person I used to work with. It was a day of wonderful people!

Walked Mod back to theater and then Chi and I went in search of LND and some kind of food. Wound up at a standard fare restaurant next door to the Adelphi and I got a coke and Chi got nachos, which wound up being sneakily packed into the tupperware container I happened to have on me when the serving size proved too large (much to the amusement of the women sitting next us...we are starving grad students! No chip left behind!).

Rest of the day was the show (glorious!) and then a very late bus ride home.

I'll be back soon, London. Don't you worry.

*Don't tell me that's not hilarious.

**Apparently what I've been calling a "programme" is actually a "course" here. Who knew.

Love Never Dies [West End Girl]

***The following post contains endless spoilers and is incredibly long. Consider yourself warned.***

I had a dream. That one day, some pig-faced big budget musical composer would look at his most famous, deliciously ludicrous and heavily synthesized smash hit about strange goings on in an 1880's Parisian opera house and say, "This needs a sequel." I dreamt that he would choose a hilarious setting for said sequel—an amusement park, perhaps—and pen a new slew of epic songs with terrible lyrics, that the production team would react the the innovations of stage effects like an alcoholic at an open bar wedding.

Yesterday, I saw that dream realized.

Oh, 'Love Never Dies.' How you were everything I wanted to be and so much more.

For those of you unfamiliar with the plot of the Phantom of the Opera sequel, here is the press release from Playbill:

"The Phantom has slipped away to New York and has set up a fairground world on Coney Island, along with Madame Giry and her daughter, Meg. He organizes a concert in Manhattan for Christine, the object of his desire. Christine travels to the U.S. with her husband Raoul and their teenage son, who happens to be a musical genius...just like the Phantom."

The show opens with a shivering Mme. Giry on a desolate Coney Island pier, singing in anguish over those terrible things she vaguely remembers having once happened here. Soon enough she is angrily confronted by writhing human remainders from the glory days of the freak show, accusing of her of being the cause of these horrible things.

"I get it!" you say, "Introduction of new and important characters! Mme. Giry as the Phantom-like orchestrator of great and terrible things!"

You see what you did there? You gave the book writer the benefit of the doubt. You made the assumption the plot would follow some kind of understandable and clear frame work. You foolishly assumed that, giving a character the responsibility of opening the show would imbue them with some kind of inherent importance and presence in the ensuing narrative.

You have so much to learn!

None of this really turns out to be true. Mme. Giry is around, sure, but does little more than play a kind of prim Mama Rose to her blossoming showgirl daughter, Meg. Remember when Meg was the shy little Parisian ballet dancer who worshipped Christine? Well, somewhere on the boat trip to America she lost all of that, replacing ballet with burlesque and her soft French mannerisms with a kind of bizarre if-Mary-Martin-was-from-New-Jersey cheekiness. Meg is the one who actually causes all the havoc in the end, though what should have been a show's worth of character build-up gets crammed into a ten line speech about what she did for love. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

As the "..." in the press release might suggest, the son (named Gustave, because God wants me to be happy/endlessly amused) turns out to be the Phantom's child. How do we know this? We know this because a) the Phantom and Christine had sex, once, ten years ago, and b) the kid if ten years old, c) can play at least ten notes on a piano and d) likes weird, bizarre and somewhat grotesque things (we will ignore the fact that so do all ten year old boys).

The scenes that reveal Gustave's true lineage are incredibly subtle and nuanced, as you might imagine from such a show. Let's look at them.

The Phantom:

Phantom [referencing the piano playing]: What is that song?
Gustave: Something in my head.
Phantom: He plays piano just like me....TEN YEARS OLD!

And Raoul:

Phantom: [something about Gustave I can't remember]
Raoul: What do you mean about my son?
Phantom: Ask yourself—is he more like you....or me?
Raoul:...MY GOD!

So just keep that in mind, fellas. If your child at any point in their young lives reads a letter, sums a series of number or enjoys a walk in the woods, then your wife clearly was cheating on you with the postman, accountant or local forest ranger (respectively) and that kid ain't yours.

As for the songs, let's play a game. See if you can match the final version of the tune with what I assume must have been it's working title*:

1. Beneath a Moonless Sky

2. Devil Take the Hindmost

3. Bathing Beauties
4. The Beauty Underneath
5. 'Til I Hear You Sing

a. Mine Is Bigger Than Yours
b. What Are We Going to Do With These Leftover Synthesizers?
c. That Song that Didn't Make It Into 'Guys and Dolls'
d. Music of the Night 2.0
e. Remember That Time We Had a Really Great One Night Stand (Because We Couldn't See Each Other)

The songs were, as you can imagine, pretty over-the top and the lyrics universally dreadful (I have been by Meg's room/It's as empty as a tomb**) and yet...I have been singing them non-stop ever since. Especially "Til I Hear You Sing," which satisfies everything I require in a piece of bombastic musical theater. It's the kind of song that physically compels you to furrow your brow and reach out, as if for Yorick's skull, in an epic motion of EMOTION. Not wanting to deny my loyal readers anything, I urge you now to experience it for yourself:



Admit it, it's kind of glorious.

Also glorious? The vocal talent of the two leads. My. God. Most everything I liked about the show comes from a so-bad-it's-wonderful point of view, but there is no denying Ramin Karimloo and Sierra Boggess are some seriously talented people. Karimloo, especially, kind of took my breath away when he sag the above song...it just filled every corner of the theater. True, he is guilty of the paper cut inhale, but that is a small detraction from a pretty phenomenal talent.

There was also some use of musical themes from the first Phantom, which I actually thought worked well. Chi and I agreed that there was one entrance that could have greatly benefit from a brief "BUUUUUM....bum bum ba dah DAAAAAAAAAAH", but otherwise...well played.

Design wise, it delivered, though it lacked a 'Masquerade'-like group number (much to Chi's chagrin). The beginning especially relied heavily on scrim and projection effects, building off what was done in 'The Woman in White' but used to better effect. I thought they got a little overwhelming, and were used inconsistently, but generally I really enjoyed the technology. They also reminded me of the sweeping CGI city shots used to open 'Moulin Rouge' and 'Sweeney Todd,' which I adore.

There is so much more I want to say about the design, but this post is a book already and I have a paper to finish, so we truck ahead!

The costumes ranged from 1890's to 1930's***, so, you know....that's special. Made the whole timeline really confusing, particularly in light of Meg's bizarre re-characterization. Which reminds me that Meg wasn't the only one who had a psychological rebirth on the boat—the Phantom did as well. In the first musical, he was a mysterious-never-seen-believed-by-some-to-not-be-real-Svengali-composer-ghost with obsessive tendencies and weird possessive/paternal/lust feeling towards Christine. In 'Love Never Dies,' he's kind of...just a dude. A dude with a mask, sure. A dude who can't move on from the girl he likes, definitely. But still...just kind of a dude. He has a Coney Island alter ego named Mr. White, and, though he remains reclusive, there isn't the same sense that people don't know he's there, writing sad poems in his journal in between banging out catchy little ditties for Meg to sing while half-naked.

Chi said she felt like it was a musical realization of a piece of Phantom fan fiction, and really, I can't think of a better way to phrase it. The characters were caricatures of what were already pretty broad personae from the original and the plot structure**** flimsy and kind of framework. The music was what you would expect and the design extravagant, but it all came together in a glorious concoction of musical brain candy. There is no real merit to 'Love Never Dies,' but I cannot tell you how much I genuinely enjoyed to empty calorie quality of it all. It felt like all of my most treasured guilty pleasure were being expressed through the sweeping majesty of song, aided by the help of some impressive scrimwork.

Not everyone enjoys the camp like I do, and I accept that. But I do. And this was that, and by God, didn't I love it. I even anticipate seeing it again at some point in the next year.

And, to the haters, I have just one thing to say—

Devil take the hindmost.



*Answers: 1e, 2a, 3c, 4b, 5d

** Actual lyrics

***Many of the opinions in this post were formulated through discussion with Chi.Roomie, and she was the one who first pointed out the costume descrepencies, the need for 'Masquerade' number and the ridiculous nature of the Phantom/Raoul conversation. If I have failed to credit her at any point in this post, I expect she will tell me and edits will follow!

****I realize I started out like I was going to sketch out the whole plot and then dropped it. For anyone who wants to know, I'm happy to elaborate. Suffice it to say, one should never try to build tension around whether or not a character will sing a song if they then list said character singing said song in the program. Also? If you're going to shoot someone, having the bullet go off because of an emplhatic gesture instead of actual intent is just....not the way to go.

The Taming of the Wolves

Thursday seminar this week was presented by Prof. Plays and did nothing to dispel my children's librarian theory. The topic was a masque given during the early days of the reign of Elizabeth that presented member of the clergy as animals and then went from there into the fine line religious policy during that time walked and various animalistic imagery used in sermons and writings and how tolerance of this kind of propaganda changed. I feel like every time I recap a lecture or a seminar or a class I end up by saying "fascinating stuff!" But guess what! IT IS ALL FASCINATING STUFF. I was particularly taken with the process behind recreating the masque's subject matter and possible presentation. Thread bills and costume bills and sermons and books and all these minute pieces of details used to form an overall picture. It's like CSI for history/literature nerds.

I have clearly chosen the right career path.

Actually, on that note...I was walking back from the Institute the other day and it struck me just how wonderful my life is right now and how much I absolutely adore what I'm doing. I don't think there's been a day I've been here yet where I haven't done something for school on my own (readings, working on a paper, research, etc.), but I don't feel like it's work. Even my practice essay, I'm really enjoying, and the work I get to do is one my own time. Save about ten hours a week, my time is completely my own and I feel so much more productive and in control of things here and just...so much happier than working a desk job. Which is heartening to know and to realize.

Pumpkins Scream in the Dead of Night

Got home from Bham with my MASSCRE buddy and opened the door to a house filled with people getting ready to carve pumpkins. Wonderful!

I had made the suggestion we have people over a couple of night previous, sending out a Facebook message to all ten of the Institute students I had communicative access to, but Chi.Roomie was the one who really made it happen. There was a thousand types of junk food and candy and alcohol (because what you want to be while carving slippery spheres with steak knives is sugar high and drunk*) and pizza was ordered and Chi had rounded up a lot of people through word of mouth, so our happy home had become Halloween central.

I cannot tell you how fantastic it was! Almost everyone had brought a pumpkin to carve, and for at least one person, it was their first one. I talked to some students I hadn't spoken with before and managed to stay awake and alert long enough for all the pumpkins to be hacked to (artistic) pieces.

I cannot say enough good things about the night. It was really the first time we had hung out in a non-Institute related setting (there have been pub trips, but either with very small groups or on the heels of an official event) and I loved that our home was the hosting location and it just was so...comfortable. And home-like, to see all of these people I enjoy having a good time together and being festive and whatnot.

Went to be earlier than maybe I would have in other situations, but I was dead tired. Manged to be conscious long enough to see my Yankees stay in it and then promptly passed out, and hard, but people stayed long after I was out and that ALSO makes me really happy. It reminded me of PH2, in a way, and those are some of my happiest housing memories.

Some pictures from the night:

(The first shift of pumpkin carvers in the kitchen)

(More pumpkin punishing)

(The finished product)

(A closer look at the craftsmanship)

(My pumpkin, which I am quite pleased with!)

*Truth be told, no one was either. The worst that happened was people were full and sleepy.

Cows Are Dangerous

Any fear I had about my sleep deprivation on Wednesday turned out to be completely justified. I was kind of a walking disaster. Passed out cold on the train, was absolutely incapable of coherent human speech in class (it didn't help that I was presenting on things concerning English geography, which is already a trick) and then my card got declined when I tried to buy coffee. I almost burst into tears, which shows both how absolutely vital caffeine was at this point and how little sleep I had gotten, since a lack of white mocha is not usually enough to send me into a mini-breakdown.

I didn't cry, though! And I found enough change for tea, and I slept on the train on the way back and I stayed awake enough to thoroughly enjoy the party that night (but that's the next post).

The highlight of the day, as is every Wednesday, was class. I love my history class. I adore my history class. And, most importantly, I adore Prof. History. She is wonderful and ridiculous. A sampling of quotes from the morning:

"...they learn to dance and fence. I'm obsessed with this."

"We've noticed."

"Well, it's the tights, you see. It's always the tights."

"He's prostituted his talent. We all know this."

"...so, you're not pitchforking your straw, or whatever you do...spearing...there are agricultural instruments, that's all I know."

"I was once attacked by a cow in Denmark, they're dangerous. They need watching."

She's wonderful. True story.

Did some stuff in the library, then met with Prof. History again. I had a couple of basic, basic questions about my practice essay which turned into a realization that I have so much work I still need to do (thank God it's unassessed). Then we discussed my ideas for a dissertation topic. I had three ideas, and she thought they were all solid, but the one I've been thinking about for awhile was the one she said had real potential to be "fascinating" and I'm really pumped to do it. So! That's awesome.

Less awesome is that she's only here for the term.

Was going to end here, but oh my goodness DUTCH POLEMIC. The presentation, from what I got from it, was really interesting—about how pamphlets discussing the political situation in the Netherlands during the 1620's influenced the way Englishmen saw their government—but oh gosh, I was so tired and academia loved polysyllabic words and there was a lot I missed. But the mystery of the Dutch Polemic has been explored.

Sleep Zombie

Woke up this morning after less than three hours of sleep (damn you, five hour time difference during the baseball postseason! you are going to destroy me!) and promptly spent a few minutes half-dreaming about Shakespeare Quarterly articles* before getting up to sway in circles about my room without any real purpose, occasionally hitting a wall and changing course. Somehow, I managed to not drown in the shower and made it to the kitchen, where I tried to put a pan away in the fridge and an empty milk container in the cabinet with the onions. This has pretty much been how my entire day has gone.

My research class was...an exercise. I felt every word that was said was a single helium balloon I was trying to hold in my mind, and there were definitely period where suddenly batches would just...float away. I was present enough, however, to realize I have absolutely no idea how to properly analyze a scholarly essay, which does not give me great hopes for writing one.

During the break, I went to the library and finished my research library treasure hunt thingy. Excerpt from a conversation with a friend on Gchat:

me: i can't wait to nap!

i'm so excited

or would be, if i had enough energy to feel emotions

Indeed.**

Playwrights was easier to focus on, as it's more interesting subject matter and was the second class of the day. Also, Prof. Plays gives lectures like a particularly enthusiastic children's librarian telling a spooky story to an elementary school class—he paces, he leans forward, he lowers his voice in an ominous fashion. If it had turned out Middleton or Heywood had, taking a break from constructing their plays according to rules of Renaissance rhetoric laws, stumbled onto a house made of gingerbread, it would have made perfect sense to me in the context of the presentation.

After the lecture, we examined the notes of an amateur playwright, and they were wonderful and fascinating. Deletions, abbreviations, stockpiles of names and scribbled notes about geography, choppy sentences, it was all there! And all so familiar, speaking as one who has written four drafts of the same essay in as many days. I took an extra copy of Shakespeare before-and-after passages in Love's Labours Lost to remind myself the man himself didn't always get it right the first time. It's going on my wall.

Working on that blasted paper now, and then, another baseball game.

Tomorrow on The Continuing Adventures...: Sleep Zombie 2: Sleep Zombie attacks Birmingham main campus! Not to mention, the moment you've all been waiting for...that's right, tomorrow is Dutch Pamphlet Polemic day!

*I am 100% serious about that...I truly was dreaming about scholarly essays on Timon of Athens and sixteenth century Warwickshire

**I would eventually get that nap after Playwrights. It was glorious, but I can already tell it won't be enough to prevent this all happening again tomorrow.

Week Four [10 Quid Challenge]

Purchased: monterey jack cheese, bacon, 8 chicken breasts, cheese slices, fajita kit, enchilada kit, unsalted butter, salted butter, kosher salt, thyme, carrots, sage, celery, parsley, chicken stock, bread, hot cocoa, breakfast sausage

Total: £26.88

Result: HOLY EPIC FAIL BATMAN

Game Analysis: I couldn't take it! I needed a real grocery trip! And that doesn't take into account the non-food items I bought (proper knife, freezer bags, foil, measuring cups and spoons, baking tray). I have shamed my ancestors with my spendthrift ways. However, if you look at the long game, it may help me in the future. Herbs? Check. Meat? Check. Ingredients that go beyond omelets and peanut butter sandwiches? CHECK. I made the enchiladas last night and hoo boy, I've never been so happy. Attempting stuffing tonight....man, it's like I'm eating like a real person, or something. I intend to enjoy it while it lasts.

The One Where Ross is Fine

There was almost going to be no post today because I can't for the life of me find an embed-able clip of Ross talking about fajitas (it's about three minutes in). Why was I looking for one so ardently? Because I made enchiladas tonight, and they were delicious, and I can't make Mexican food without thinking about that scene. But I made enchiladas, not fajitas, so there isn't even a one-to-one correlation and you don't need to know every weird pop culture reference that happens in my head on a day to day basis and really, I shouldn't be wasting all this time on YouTube anyway because I should be writing my practice essay and this is why I don't get anything done.

Said practice essay has been my life the past two days, hence the lack of scintillating stories for you. Hours spent in the Institute library does not make for great copy. Oh, but I DID go grocery shopping, so expect a 10 Quid Challenge update soon (spoiler alert: I lost). And last night I introduced the roomies to the wonders of Hyperbole and a Half, so let it not be said I did not contribute to the furthering of mankind this weekend.

Back to the index cards.

Game Day

Spent the day in the library, reading lots and lots of things about Elizabethan and Jacobean London, so, when 4:30 rolled around, I was pumped to get out on the pitch for some footie.

Was sorted for the first time into the Bib team, and we promptly got crushed. For reasons passing understanding, I wound up playing offense (or 'up front') for most of the first half, which really just gave me an opportunity to trash talk Keeper and come up with the 'like a lynx' stratagem of footie, since the ball really didn't come out of our half very much. I did, however, participate (ie, made contact with the ball and managed to not pass it to the other team) in one of the passing runs that led to one of our two goals being scored, so that's something!

The second half was kind of nuts because there were just so many people on the pitch. Team Bibs was bolstered by the addition of some of the Serious Men of Football, but because of the chaos of having something like 14-on-14, it was just hard to get things going. I also wasn't really sure where to go, so spent a lot of time getting out of the way of SMF and Godzillas. I got the ball away from Slater at one point, so I did at least one good thing per half. Baby steps!

Play was interrupted twice when we lost the ball over the wall and into the neighborhood next to the park. No windows were broken, but at least one Stratford resident was Not Pleased.

Afterwards we went to the pub, where the relative merits of Disney princesses were passionately debated, as I'm sure that's how professional football players* like to unwind.

*Speaking of professional football players...Tim Howard. Oh My.

In Which Many Things Happen on a Thursday

Today's seminar was on carving out a space of Shakespearean scholarship online, which is a pretty complex idea. How can 'legitimate' websites be recognized as such? How can online resources stay up-to-date in the wake of funding being withdrawn, and information outpacing resources? What should be done in the classroom? What about copyright issues? How much should be paid for, how much open to public access? Etc.

I have to say I'm actually more on the other side of the debate...I need to push myself to use online resources as opposed to books. I trust books, I know books, I like the feel of books in my hand and that I can read them anywhere, regardless of my internet connectivity. But that's not really where the world is heading, and I have o find my own balance, just like the academic community is trying to find one of its own.

Immediately after, we had the first meeting of the Institute Players, the group that puts on shows during the year. I definitely want to be involved, but I remain reluctant to act, so it's going to be tricky...being limited in design options by space and money, it's really mostly acting and directing. However! We also had committee elections, and I ran for Treasurer.

My speech, in full:

Well, I worked in accounting for the past year. I spend money...sometimes, I make money. and I think I could do a better job than my opponent*, worthy as they are.

And I won! So now I'm the Institute Players treasurer. Fancy.

Cute story that has nothing, really, to do with anything: Went to buy milk immediately after, not realizing Poundland has a credit card minimum and that I had no cash. When this was brought to my attention by the cashier, the man behind me bought my milk. What a guy! And it proves I have the best milk mojo in England.

On the subject of money matters, I just have to accept my budget is going to be exploded this month and try not to hyperventilate about it, but, rather, just deal. There's just a lot of setting up stuff (rail card, coach card, memberships that will save me money in the end, books, etc.) and I just need to get over it. I will probably have to work my whole Christmas break now (balls), or at least more than I intended to, but you do what you gotta do. And being here is worth it.

In the last few days I've ALSO decided I definitely, 100% am going to go for a PhD (until I change my mind). I don't really know the where or how or the funding puzzle, but I feel better having at least decided that one part. I like a sense of where I'm going, even if it changes. It helps me enjoy the "now" more.

Running away

Let's do it

Where did you have in mind?

Have to take care

Unless there's a where

You'll only be wandering blind

Not to mention...

Finally (because I know these posts are long, and thanks for hanging in there), the play reading the week was 'Arden of Faversham,' which could be subtitled 'The Cat Came Back as a Renaissance Tragedy (Which is Really Very Funny)." I played the pivotal role of 'sailor.' It was great fun, as was last week.

*I ran unopposed

Presenting and Puzzles

There is never going to be Wednesday morning wherein I do not bitch about having to trek into Birmingham. It's just not going to happen. Setting that alarm, trundling to the station, shivering on the platform...these require complaining. That's just how it's going to be.

That said, I'm actually really glad I have to do it. I like that I'm somewhat forcibly reminded that I belong to a larger campus, that I get to hang out in the main library or explore the student union. That I know where to buy hoodies, or where to buy lunch, or that the campus players are putting on Henry V. And for someone who didn't have a real undergraduate campus, I get a real kick out of having one now, even if it's only a day a week.

Class this morning was really the first time we got hardcore into substance...a little too much, since we came close to running over. Prof. History called on us each to present, informally, to the class and then there was a little back and forth on what we had found and then on to the next.

Extemporaneous speaking makes me incredibly nervous, so while I was waiting to be called on I quickly jotted down a skeleton review of what I had read to make sure I didn't leave anything out or get my various readings confused. My notes wound up being something like this:

• Impulse (opening of ideas, aspirations, relationships, magnificence)
• Goods (domestic production, arguments against, volume vs. type, naturalization, porcelain)
• Methods (Exchanges, agents, women, vice, The French Garden)

At one point, while talking about how the import-export business allowed for a naturalization of goods, I referred to the English as "we" and then checked myself out loud–

"What am I saying? I'm not English."

"Oh, but you will be!"

"Stop threatening the Americans!"

Less than a month in, and it's begun.

On the way to reception after the CREMS lecture, Prof. History made a point to tell me she had really liked my presentation, which made me really happy. I mean, it doesn't count for anything or anything like that, but I really want to do well here and I found it very encouraging and motivating to do well on my practice essay.

CREMS itself was on anagrams. The lecturer talked about the cyclical nature of importance placed on them (in the Renaissance, they were taken seriously, but in the Victorian era, they were more just word games; that sort of thing) and then spent a lot of time talking about how they were (are) used in the authorship question. Edwin Durning-Lawrence's "mechanical proof," if you didn't know, is kind of wonderfully ludicrous.* Also, he (the lecturer) wants to write a musical based on Riverbank Laboratories, which sounds like a fascinating place.

Came home from an exciting day of intellectual endeavor, and saw this as a friend's status:

One reason my new school is cool--history of Shakespeare criticism professor didn't have access to his usual facsimiles of Pope's 1725 edition of Shakespeare, so he passed around the real thing.

Have I mentioned I love it here?

And, finally, super awesome mail shout-out to Dad and KO! Thanks for your notes, and I'll try to write back soon!

*I was unable to find a link to a summary of his theory, unfortunately, and it's too complex to remember...suffice it to say, it involved a lot of hilarious math

Books and Things

I find that I keep wanting to quote 'Beauty and the Beast,' which has less than nothing to do with what I'm studying and takes place in France.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there. Still playing catch-up from the week, so we're on to Tuesday, another Bham focused day, as all the newbies were shipped off to the main campus for a tour of the special collections and the main library.

The tour itself was lacking, as we were given absolutely no sense of a) the layout of the building, or b) how using the special collections works. We did get to go into the belly of the beast and see all the really old books on their white metal rolly shelves, and peek into the conservation lab where 18th century prints of Birmingham were soaking in big tubs, so that was kind of neat! If it didn't involve lots of science, I think it would be a pretty sweet gig to restore old books.

After the tour, we were ushered into a seminar room with a big table in the center covered with old books. There were over 60 scattered about, and our guide proceeded to show them to us, one by one, with all the dramatic flair of a distracted uncle looking for gardening gloves in an overstuffed garage. "Oh! Here's a tiki torch from when your aunt and I won that cruise...and here's a bowl your mother gave me for Christmas..." only instead of dusty vacation mementos, he was showing us 15th, 16th and 17th century books. The books were amazing, and we saw mostly varying editions of the Bible (pre- and post-Reformation), books with maps of varying accuracy and projections and then things at least tangentially related to Shakespeare, like a Ben Jonson first edition Complete Works and the Quarto for one of my favorites, The Two Noble Kinsmen.*

If only his presentation was more on point! But it doesn't really matter, because you know what we got to do next? We got to play with books. And do you know what I got to hold, and attempt to read? DO YOU? A copy of 'Orlando Furioso' owned by Edward Seymour. I wish I had a picture of the book to post...I was totally geeking out. Edward Seymour! Lord Protector of Edward VI! Brother to Jane Seymour, third wife of Henry VIII! I held his book in my grubby little American hands! It was unreal.

Class was kind of haphazard. It was on Shakespeare's education, but considering we know...oh...basically nothing specific, it instead was more a discussion of education in general, specifically the plays written for and performed by schoolboys in the period and what the goal of these exercises was.

Went back out into the mop fair that evening for more candy (fizzy coke bottles, which I am currently consuming in sugary delight) and stopped by Starbucks for some very important recon work, successfully revealing that England's Cup Change Day is November 4. Oh glorious, glorious!

And that, my friends, was Tuesday.

*Why is Two Noble Kinsmen one of my favorites? Well, I saw a really great/fun production of the play by Taffety Punk earlier this year. But also! It shows that Wm. Shakes was a believer in the legitimacy of dibs. Observe:

THESEUS:...Palamon,
Your kinsman hath confessed the right o'th Lady
Did lie in you, for you first saw her, and
Even then proclaimed your fancy...

Loves it.

And Now, A Word From Your Main Campus

Monday is usually a reading day, but since we are still in the throes of discovery, it was this week dedicated to learning more about the wonderful world of UofB. Thus, we found ourselves in the lecture hall to hear about the following:

Counseling and Guidance Per their mission statement, their aim is to help you be free enough (emphasis theirs) from psychological and emotional problems to be able to complete your studies. For seem reason, that amuses me. Also, the power point was kind of hilarious. Example: "We know you are here for academic pursuits [picture of an MRI], but we want you to know, we don't just think of you as a brain. There is more to you as well [giant cartoon heart]." It's important to know about these kinds of services, no question, so it was good of him to come, there was just nothing there that I felt I'll need. But who knows! Maybe I'll have some kind of psychotic break in March.

Head of Postgraduate Study His presentation was to give us an idea of our place in the overall academic world of UofB postgraduate study. I can't really say there was anything I really felt I needed to know—mostly things about online training courses, leave of absence forms and mitigations—but he was funny and charming and kind of cute..was I the only one who thought so? Yes? Have I made this awkward now? Right, moving on, then...

Student Funding Office Lesson learned from this presentation? We have lots of funding resources...but not for Americans! D'oh. They do have some stuff for us Yanks, though, just not very much, and he and helpfully cleared up what the funding office does (grants, scholarships) and what the fees office does (billing, payments). Also, they gave us free highlighters! So, you know, buying our favor. Fine by me.

After all this excitement we had a quick break and then met back at the Institute for a walking tour of Stratford with an Institute alum/actor. The tour was fast moving and fast speaking, but it really drove home that a lot of the buildings I walk past every are older than my entire country. I had no idea so many buildings in Stratford were original. There is only one building in town that still has a thatch roof...but it has a thatch roof. And has had, though constantly replaced, ever since the...really long time ago (we were walking, I wasn't taking notes, leave me alone). We also went into Guild Chapel, where you can see ghosts of the pre-Reformation murals that were then whitewashed, and ended the tour at Trinity Church, which I haven't gone into yet, but have every intention of doing at some point.

This was also the first night of the Mop Fair, which used to be a time to get jobs but is now a time for an American-style carnival. Overpriced games, hastily constructed rides with wild airbrushing and blaring drunk-sing-along music and grease soaked edibles. Ah, my homeland! How I sometimes long for you! Bought some fudge (which is not the same here, it turns out...more like Tootsie rolls), watched friends take their life into their hands on a death defying twirly thing and noted that, while the English got a lot of the details right, they still haven't learned Confederate flags are not acceptable decor. They try though, bless them.

Responsibility Champion

Sundays, I know, are supposed to be the days of rest, but during London2 it got ingrained in my brain that Sundays were actually days of doing everything you couldn't get to in the week, since Sunday was the only day I didn't have some kind of work. Couple that with the fact that my budget rolls over for the week on Sundays, allowing for errand running, and I'm pretty confident that mindset is here to stay.

So what will a typical Sunday look like? Well, something like today:

• Sleep in later than expected/planned
• Go food shopping (milk, eggs and kitchen/home supplies from Poundland, everything else from Morrison's)
• Come back and put things away, make lunch
• Library for 2-3 hours (Today's reading: Court Culture and the Origins of a Royalist Tradition in Early Stuart England)
• House chores
• Make dinner
• Read or watch American TV

Quiet, mundane, oddly comforting. It helped that today was a drop dead gorgeous fall day, with amazing blue skies and just turning leaves and the autumnal smell in the air, so bopping about the town was a remarkably pleasant experience.

As far as house chores go, I've taken it into my head that I am going to beat the kitchen's cleanliness into submission. At first glance, it's fine, but when you start getting into it, you discover things like an odd stickiness on most drawers and shelves with spilt tea and such.* Bit by bit, I will beat it back to the land of the pristine. I am determined. Also, paranoid about infestation from my time in New York.

Today's challenge? The oven.

I wish I could now pull up "before" and "after" pictures for comparison, but after a half hour of near-scaldings (our hot water doesn't mess around), vigorous elbow grease and the demise of a noble sponge, I was only able to marginally improve its condition. The battle may have been lost, but the war wages on. I will defeat you, oven. Don't think this is over.

Dinner was potato latkes**, and they were delicious! True, I'm more than a little over my food choices being entirely limited to potatoes, omelets and pasta, but working from a recipe (however simple) was a nice change and, thanks to my Gchat consultation with Team Latke*** I now how some frozen as well. And I didn't burn anything down!

Tomorrow on The Continuing Adventures....: The University of Birmingham comes to Stratford-Upon-Avon. Who will be there? What information will they impart? And, most importantly, will they ever be able to entice the non-MASSCHRE students to the Bham campus? Stay tuned!

*Just to clarify, when I talk about the kitchen being messy, I'm referring to slowly accumulated, inherited mess that is no one's responsibility (except time's). If I wasn't using the kitchen so much I probably wouldn't even notice. Deciding to clean it is based on my own personal preferences, not because I feel I have to. No one feels put upon!

**This photo is clearly not mine, as applesauce has a prominent place. Truth is, I took a picture of mine, but as I was avoiding maiming myself with hot oil at the time, it lacked presentation. As my father's daughter, I cannot have that. In the future, I will ensure to properly plate and garnish my meals before photographing them to avoid this happening again.

**Thanks for the help, Rosie, Koop and Leslie!

Week Three [10 Quid Challenge]

Purchased: eggs, milk, kitchen roll, kitchen supplies (knife, cutting board, peeler, kitchen shears), apples (8)

Total: £5

Result: SUCCESS

Game Analysis: I've been over budget lately, so this week I thought I'd try to go under. I will probably wind up buying milk again later this week (I drink it like it's my job), and I still have veggies left over, so it looks like another week of omelets, fried potatoes and pasta for emma. On that note, if anyone has recipes that use very few ingredients, I would love to hear them because I'm getting a bit bored.

Thus Then, In Brief

I wish I could regale you with wild stories from the past two days...exciting adventures, notable events, thrilling tales of daring do and such, but no! There has been little to report or recap. Yesterday was mostly spent in the house, with a brief sojourn into the world for footie that was tragically cut short (I seem to have aggravated my groin* in some way and by the half it was clear running and aggressively changing directions was not the best way to heal myself).

And today? Today, I was wonderfully productive and holed myself up in the library, knocking out most of my library treasure hunt and reading such articles as 'Public ceremony and royal charisma : the English royal entry in London, 1485-1642' and '“Magic of Bounty”: Timon of Athens, Jacobean Patronage, and Maternal Power.' Usually this would be the time when I would sarcastically make some comment along the lines of "exciting stuff, right?" but you know what? It is.

One nice thing to mention is the past few nights I've wound up staying up later than expected because of good conversation. We've been having another Institute student stay with us (another NYU violet!) and it's been really great just hanging out with her and the roommates, discussing things like people who don't kiss before marriage (they exist, I swear), Tudor history and the relative merits of Taylor Swift. Oh, and of course, Shakespeare, the Institute and preferred citation methods...we are the coolest kids you know.

Going to go out in a bit, and tomorrow will probably be another quiet day. I should be on Skype at some point, if anyone cares to say hello!

Hope everyone is having a good weekend!

*I have yet to be able to say that without feeling like I'm being inappropriate

Meanwhile, in Tudor England

Dinosaur Comics is always a good time, but never more so than when Billy Shakes gets involved.

Today's offering (original link here):