I'd like to stand a drink with anyone who...

Note to self: When already in a questionable state of depression due to the lack of people left in 24...do NOT watch the 2nd to last episode of FRIENDS in which Rachel explains to Ross why she couldn't say goodbye to him.

I began the day without a plan. Which would normally be stressful. But I was able to sleep in, make myself breakfast, and sit down with a cup of tea and my guidebook and plan out my day. I opted (on recommendation) to do the Oxford University Museum of Natural History and the Pitt Rivers Museum. Both were fantastic. The Natural History Museum was full of casts of dinosaurs...and speaking of Ross, he would have loved it! The highlight was the stuffed Dodo bird, made famous by Lewis Carroll, of course.

The Pitt Rivers museum was also excellent. It was basically a "let's showcase our former imperialism" sort of deal. It was full of all these exotic clothes and jewelry, weapons and shields, toys and tools. Just screamed EMPIRE.

From there I thought I'd treat myself to a nice lunch. I wandered down the High Street until I found this cute little green cafe I'd been meaning to try out. Got myself a ham and cheese crepe and a big pot of tea and cracked open my book. What a day. I could be a tourist forever, I think. Except I still made sure I had my Worcester jumper on...wouldn't want to be mistaken for a real tourist!

"We may be a small country. But we're a great one, too. The country of Shakespeare, Churchill, the Beatles, Sean Connery, Harry Potter. David Beckham's right foot. David Beckham's left foot, come to that"--Love Actually

So It's Been A Long Time

...And today marks the first day of being a tourist in Oxford. Thus far, I've entirely hidden behind the mask of "student", stepping into the street to rush quickly around tourists whilst barely avoiding getting hit by a double decker and sighing impatiently as they clog up Cornmarket Street on the way to my tutorial at Magdalen. But today I allowed myself to be a tourist. Not the really annoying sort that wrestle you down and force you to take endless pictures of them giving the peace sign in front of something ridiculous and not even remotely attractive or historical.

I've always found that a sign of being truly centered in a place is when people flag you down to ask for directions. This has happened numerous times in Oxford. But particularly in the last few days. One pair of guys stopped Ashley and I the other day to ask us where Oxford University is. How do you find a polite way to say...uh, you're standing in it, you prat? People are hugely unaware that Oxford University is basically a city, and its the colleges that are important. No one wears Oxford Uni kit, but you know everyone is sporting their Worcester College jumper...because "There's only one Woosta College! Only one Woosta College! Walking along, singing a song, walking in a Woosta Wonderland". More than any other college, I think Worcester has its pride sorted.

Anyways. On to the tourism. I spent the majority of my day in the Ashmolean Museum, which is actually just down the road from Worcester. Unfortunately during term I don't ever seem to have the time to go in, so I made it my goal to tick it off the list. I spent just about three hours wandering through the different galleries of ancient artifacts from all over the world. Call me a history/museum dork...I don't care. It was brilliant. From there I walked down the High Street and hit up St. Mary the Virgin Church. This church used to be the entirety of Oxford University. I was pleased to discover a little known fact about Amy Robsart (Robert Dudley's wife, Earl of Leicester and favorite of Elizabeth I). After her mysterious death she was taken in coffin to Worcester College, then brought to the Church for the funeral. Although a grave has never been found, she is rumored to be buried somewhere in the Church. My main purpose in going here was to climb the tower, which is meant to have the best views of the city. I was not disappointed. From every angle there were postcard views of the different colleges, with brief glimpses of the Christ Church meadows in the distance. Apart from some annoying tourists who wouldn't vacate, it was a beautiful moment. One of those moments where I just had to reflect on how lucky I am to be here...in Oxford.

Onward to Glory. After a slightly dangerous climb back down the 13th century tower, I went to the Vault Cafe. A place I've always meant to try out. I'm extremely loyal to Combibo's, but this place is just cool. It's actually in the Church...kind of. And the inside looks legit. I ordered myself a Chai Latte and rushed to grab a seat outside in the garden as it was sunny and beautiful. I sat down in a tiny wooden chair, sipped my latte, mused a bit over the fact that I was inches away from a 14th century tomb (how cool), and picked up my Hemingway. What an absolutely perfect day.

"Thenceforth, eternall vnion shall be made Betweene the antions different afore, And sacred Peace shall louingly perswade The warlike minds, to learne her goodly lore, And ciuile armes to exercise no more: Then shall a royall virgin raine, which shall Stretch her white rod ouer the Belgicke shroe, And the great Castle smite so sore with all, That is shall make him shake, and shortly learne to fall"--Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene

"In spite of the roaring of the young lions at the Union, and the screaming of the rabbits in the home of the vivisect, in spite of Keble College, and the tramways, and the sporting prints, Oxford still remains the most beautiful thing in England, and nowhere else are life and art so exquisitely blended, so perfectly made one"--Oscar Wilde

Cream Tea and Henry Fielding

Just finished the second week of my Primary Tutorial. I was extremely nervous about this one, because I felt like my essay was crap. Perhaps it was the subject I was writing on. For those of you who aren't familiar with Samuel Richardson's Pamela, don't get familiar. Over 500 pages of a girl trying to stay virtuous. I don't buy it. Which was what my essay was on. I am completely anti Pamela, and (I can't believe I'm saying this) would love to read Fielding's Shamela just to see this excellent "example" of an innocent woman put down. Anyways, I did all right. It is incredibly unnerving to have your essay read aloud by an Oxford tutor, waiting for him to pause and correct you or point out flaws in your prose. Extremely nerve-wracking. I told him I had a much more difficult time in writing about Pamela than I did Moll Flanders. Perhaps because Moll was just one step above being a prostitute and actually had a somewhat interesting life...unlike Pamela. My tutor said that I listened to his suggestions, tightened my prose, and improved my essay this week. Interesting. Didn't realize that, but thanks!

The second greatest discovery of my time at Oxford is Cream Tea. Basically, after my tutorial I was hungry so I went to Combibo's for a snack. With Cream Tea you get a cup of tea, a warm scone, with butter, jam, and clotted cream (the greatest invention in the history of the universe). I sat and read Tom Jones in Combibo's for about an hour and felt very intellectual. Which is what I should actually be doing now if I want to continue being able to go out during the week in the Oxford tradition.

Eucatastrophic Moments

I had every intention of continuing where I had left off. However, what they don't tell you about the Oxford system is that you will appear to have so much free time, while actually having none. Two tutorials a week doesn't sound so bad...but when you wake up at 9 and don't stop working until 11 at night, things like blogging and phoning home tend to get pushed aside for the time being (sorry fam).

Anyways, my first tutorial was today. It was exciting, terrifying, and thrilling all at once. I have already decided that being an Oxford tutor might in fact be my dream job. How exactly does one accomplish this? This tutorial was on Oxford Fantasists. And yes...I spent my first tutorial discussing Alice's Adventure's in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. But it didn't end there. Through the course of an hour we also discussed The Hobbit as a traveler's tale (There and Back Again), Tolkien's eucatastrophic moments: including when the Elves come during the Battle of Helm's Deep, when Gandalf comes at dawn, and when the eagles come. Excellent. We also discussed Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland as well as the Disney version. The fact that I am at Oxford discussing fantasies and children's stories kind of makes my life.

On a fascinating note, I discovered (in truth, as I have heard rumors) that the gardens in the Alice stories were based on the Worcester gardens. My life basically rocks. On the other hand, I still have 70 pages of Moll Flanders to read as well as write an essay on by Friday...so perhaps things aren't perfect, but I'm not complaining.

Tonight there is a "Booze and Bangers" party for English people at the Big Bang Restaurant. I don't really know what this involves other than I was told to bring a bottle of wine and that sometimes things get a bit rowdy and we are forced to leave the restaurant. Interesting. These Oxford kids really know how to have fun I guess. I am not overly thrilled by the Bangers portion of the night, as everyone who knows me should know...I don't eat sketchy meat. But, hopefully its nothing to worry about. After all, so far the food has been absolutely divine. Particularly when compared to Stonehill's selection. Ironically, you typically only get one choice for dinners and lunches...but it is always bangin'. My first formal hall was on Saturday night and it was a delicious three course meal: risotto, quail, and pudding. Yum. Speaking of Yum, if anyone is every in Oxford get a Yum Yum. They are the most amazing real donuts I have ever had. No idea what the name of the bakery is...but its super close and delicious. Another prized food recommendation are the food trucks. Always a great late night snack, always get chips (don't embarrass yourself and order fries) with salt and vinegar. It seems my blog has turned into a food review of Oxford, but I have one final recommendation. Tesco's. Most amazing store ever. You can buy a million things for just 20p, and they have super cool reusable burlap bags that say I "heart" Oxford.

It's Moll Flanders time. Bring on the Defoe.

How to Cover an Epic Week in 20 Minutes

I promised myself before I left that I would update my blog as often as possible. Of course, as anyone could have predicted...I haven't even thought about it since I left. And now...with only twenty minutes before I have to hop on a bus to meet with my tutor (at his house) for the first time, I've decided to attempt to cover on of the most epic weeks in a 20 minute time slot.

Sept. 30

Began as a frustrating day. Ash and I went out exploring, got incredibly lost, and ended up stumbling upon Soho...kind of. We were told the area of Soho we were in was the closest the UK comes to a red light district. Great. We ended up finding the cool Soho later on though and it was amazing. We then stumbled upon Piccadilly Circus, St. James's Park and Palace, Buckingham Palace, and finally made it back to the hotel. We had dinner at Porters with IFSA kids and I was introduced for the first time to Spotted Dick (amazing).

The night ended with a drink at the Crown and Anchor with Ashley in Covent Gardens, which is amazing. It was our snooty pub night where everyone was drinking wine and looking intellectual.

Oct. 1

Began with meetings and presentations. Apparently I was meant to live in England because conservative politics (as we think of conservative politics) does not exist there. Even the Tories are semi Liberal. Love it. They don't understand how issues like gay rights, abortion, and the death penalty exist in the US because they don't mix religion with politics at all.

We were also advised to dress in black and try to tone down the noise (as British people tend to be much more reserved and quiet than us Americans). Apparently British people also have the idea that all Americans are gun toting. We were told to expect questions about whether we have ever fired guns before. We were also given a safety talk by an ex-London police officer. He told us about his trip through Europe as a kid our age when he was mugged three times, had his passport stolen, and wound up in an Italian jail because he was sleeping in the subways. He was able to escape because the Italian police had to go out for pasta and left the door to his cell open.

Oct. 2 Highlights:

-Lunch at Tas (Turkish Restaurant)

-Walking tour of Soho, Chinatown, and the city of Westminster

-Coach and Horses pub in Soho

-Walked by the Hare Krishna dancing and chanting down the streets in Soho

-Dinner in Neal's Corner in Covent Garden at Piazetta (coolest area ever).

Oct. 3 Highlights:

-Tower of London

-Globe Theater

-Millenium Bridge (of HP6 fame)

-Walk by St. Paul's, London Eye, House of Parliament and Big Ben

-Westminster Abbey is closed on Sundays....ugh. Just another excuse to go back to London

-Harrod's

-Walk by Royal Albert Hall, Prince Albert Memorial, and Kensington Gardens

-Always get to an attraction an hour before closing or they won't let you in...even if they sell you tickets.

-Kensington Palace is being transformed

-Peter Pan Statue

-Speaker's Corner where we thought we were about to witness a riot...but didn't

-Animals in War memorial (no idea where this is or how we ended up there)

-Dinner at il Castelletto (yummy yummy yummy)

Oct. 4 Highlights:

-Someone in the hotel decides to use the fire exit door so the fire alarms go off for 10 minutes and the elevators won't work for over a half hour. Thus, we had to lug our luggage down four flights of stairs. Great.

-Met the visiting student tutor Dr. Elisabeth Dutton.

-Found out our tutorials, mine are: The Rise of the Novel and Oxford Fantasists

-Drinks/Dinner/Student Bar/Clubbing with the JCR reps

Hmm...caught up almost. We are in Fresher's Week at the moment so things are incredibly crazy. There are club nights every night as well as millions of activities during the day with the Fresher's and JYA students too. All in all....Worcester College in Oxford is amazing. You know it is when everyone starts chanting the name at a club while making the "whatever" sign.

Don't Jay-Walk

Well, the count is down to three days now...if you count like I do. That is, you should never count today, and you should never count the day you are leaving. So yeah, three days to go. I find this to be an optimistic not unrealistic outlook. Today also marks the three more shifts at work count. Today, tomorrow, and Tuesday, then I will be jetting across the ocean to London and beyond. Crazy thought.


I have made great strides and tremendous breakthroughs in the packing world. The spare room was for a time covered in all my clothes, shoes, and various accessories and electronics. Of course, I almost left my soccer shoes and shin guards at home, but that's no surprise to anyone who really knows me at all.

Other than that, I am officially read to hit the road. And I honestly think I could fit more in my suitcase if I wanted to. I've never been able to zip one up so easily.

Yesterday I went to visit Kathryn at her new apartment in Ithaca, which was amazing. How crazy that I have friends with apartments now. We had a chill night. Hung out, cooked dinner, caught up on life, watched Disney movies (including Robin Hood which was totally appropriate), and went for walks through the various neighborhoods. All in all, the perfect night discussing England related adventures to be had over thanksgiving break (for her) and just a regular old week for me in England! I didn't want to leave this morning with the prospect of work right around the corner, but the next time I see Kathryn will be at the airport in London. Think about that. Aren't we sounding very international?

My friend Leah (who is absolutely famous, so if you don't know who I am referring to, I would figure it out) was kind enough to send Ash and I a list of tips the other day. She visited England and some relatives a few months ago and was able to pass on to us some expert advice:

1. Don't jay walk. Cars don't stop for pedestrians in London, they'll just hit you. Really, it almost happened to me haha.

2. Get an Oyster Card. It's for riding the tube. Although I'm almost certain that they'll tell you that, and maybe even give you one.

3. Keep a map of the tube on you at all times.

4. Look at some sort of visitors guide. There are a shit ton of random little museums, and a lot of them are free. And worth checking out. Like famous dead people's houses and whatnot.

5. When you're on the escalator down to the tube (or up from the tube), stand to the right, unless you're moving really fast. The people who are on the left are in a freaking hurry, and they will blow you out of the way.

6. Check out Soho. Super cool shops and restaurants. And of course Oxford Circus and Piccadilly Circus.

7. When talking about pence/pennies, the locals just say "p," like the letter p. "That piece of candy costs fifty p." Pounds can be referred to as quid, but you guys probably already knew that, being the experts you are ;)

8. For god's sake, buy some Cadbury chocolate. They have varieties over there that you've never even dreamed of. Definitely try the Flake and the Whispa. (This advice she comes by genetically, I do declare!)

Amazing. So, we've got the advice, the tickets, the suitcase...now all that's left is the actually leaving. We're getting closer.

"Suddenly, in the space of a moment, I realized what it was that I loved about Britain--which is to say, all of it. Every last bit of it, good and bad--old churches, country lanes, people saying 'Mustn't grumble,' and 'I'm terribly sorry but,' people apologizing to ME when I conk them with a careless elbow, milk in bottles, beans on toast, haymaking in June, seaside piers, Ordnance Survey maps, tea and crumpets, summer showers and foggy winter evenings--every bit of it." --Bill Bryson, Notes from a Small Island

"I do find London exciting. Much as I hate to agree with that tedious old git Samuel Johnson, and despite the pompous imbecility of his famous remark about when a man is tired of London he is tired of life...I can't dispute it." --Bill Bryson, Notes From a Small Island

You're still here?

The dreaded question, asked every time I go to work (or anywhere at all really) has come to grate on my last nerve. Politely, as I have a hundred times before, I explain that I leave the 29th. Although I am the last person to expect anyone to remember every detail of my life (as I can never remember any detail of theirs), I have come to dread this question. It acts as a constant reminder that I am in fact...still here. However, hope remains. I get to smile and answer: "Two weeks now".

I contemplate the date two weeks from today with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and relief. I've just started packing, which mainly involved ironing a colossal pile of shirts and folding them up to sit by my suitcase, and laboriously hauling in a worrying number of shoes.

I am almost through with the daunting experience of reading through the entirety of my guidebook on Great Britain (which of course includes England, Scotland, Wales, and North Ireland...a virtual, page turning, tour de Empire). The guidebook has perhaps caused more trouble than good as I now have a burning desire to go to every obscure little hamlet in the United Kingdom. For instance: yes, of course I want to visit Tintern Abbey ("Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect the landscape with the quiet of the sky") and perhaps even compose some lines a few miles above it. And as long as we're on the topic of literature, obviously I want to go to the castle and see the room where Macbeth was "murdered". And why not see the church where the Magna Carta was written? Walk alongside Hadrian's wall? Visit Anne Boleyn's childhood home? Find the Forest of Dean for the simple reason that Harry Potter camped there in the Deathly Hallows? These are all important places...and in my opinion are not to be overlooked. Hmmm. Which town do the Weasley's live in again? And can I run around with my wand in it and complain of Wrackspurts buzzing about my head?

AND...what about Ireland????? Perhaps it was the Irish Festival on Saturday...or maybe it was the two hours of Flogging Molly I listened to on the way back, but I have had an unfortunate (but strong) desire to go back to Ireland. Anyways, is there anything stopping me from going on a weekend excursion to Galway? I'm thinking I need to get back to a place where people say "cheers" as a way of greeting or thank you, and crack usually doesn't involve the use of drugs, and where bands are paid in the pub with pints, and people make shamrocks in the foam of their Guinness. It's been too long. Is there such a thing as too much traveling?

Anyways, tomorrow marks the big two week countdown. If you haven't already marked up your calendars...I suggest you do so. Because soon I'll be drinking Pimm's and punting about Oxford.

"Tell me one last thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"
"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"