... and to all, a Good Night.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
Instead, I Caught A Cold
There's a study out there that says happiness is contagious. Not just from/to your nearest and dearest though - people more removed from you have a greater impact on your mood. There's some skepticism in the article about that - the idea that your neighbor can affect you more than your spouse - but I believe it. We get so comfortable with the people we see all the time that we've probably gotten used to their fluctuations in happiness and the like.
As someone that has been having a truly wretched week, I think I need some extremely happy people in the upstairs apartment.
As someone that has been having a truly wretched week, I think I need some extremely happy people in the upstairs apartment.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Dick Wolf Wants You!
Has anyone been following the criminal case with VP Cheney and AG Gonzales as defendants, down in south Texas? There are other defendants (such as other judges and prosecutors) in this case, which accuses the defendants of prisoner abuse, but we all know why this keeps popping up in my "Top Headlines" section when I log into Yahoo.
Anyway, the prosecutor in the case is a guy named Guerra. He lost the last election, partly (mostly?) because of the (now dismissed) indictments against him of extortion and misuse of public office. Most of the people he has indicted in this case worked to get *his* indictment. He said he would only stay during a hearing if the judge asked him 'respectfully', telling the press that he would otherwise ignore the order to appear. During the hearing this morning, he stood, pounded the table with his fist and yelled at the judge for favoring the defendants and demanded the judge recuse himself from the case.
This is like something you see on bad legal-type shows. Like that new-ish one with Mark Paul Gosselaar, which is apparently about a surfer dude that must step up to the plate when his twin, lawyer brother is desperately needed, but tragically is in a coma, along with all common sense, decency and legal knowledge that should be in a courtroom. (I don't know. I haven't seen it, but that's what the commercials make me think of.)
So the question is - how much does Guerra want to become an actor? Was this his audition? I'd have started out slower - maybe gone for a governor or two before the vice president, but I suppose he's short on time since his term ends in January. Good luck, Mr. Guerra. I hope to see you with your own show as the abrasive, take-no-prisoners, unethical, volatile character you're perfecting.
It's much better than having you in a courtroom.
Anyway, the prosecutor in the case is a guy named Guerra. He lost the last election, partly (mostly?) because of the (now dismissed) indictments against him of extortion and misuse of public office. Most of the people he has indicted in this case worked to get *his* indictment. He said he would only stay during a hearing if the judge asked him 'respectfully', telling the press that he would otherwise ignore the order to appear. During the hearing this morning, he stood, pounded the table with his fist and yelled at the judge for favoring the defendants and demanded the judge recuse himself from the case.
This is like something you see on bad legal-type shows. Like that new-ish one with Mark Paul Gosselaar, which is apparently about a surfer dude that must step up to the plate when his twin, lawyer brother is desperately needed, but tragically is in a coma, along with all common sense, decency and legal knowledge that should be in a courtroom. (I don't know. I haven't seen it, but that's what the commercials make me think of.)
So the question is - how much does Guerra want to become an actor? Was this his audition? I'd have started out slower - maybe gone for a governor or two before the vice president, but I suppose he's short on time since his term ends in January. Good luck, Mr. Guerra. I hope to see you with your own show as the abrasive, take-no-prisoners, unethical, volatile character you're perfecting.
It's much better than having you in a courtroom.
Monday, November 10, 2008
This Post Has Almost Become Obligatory...
(Apparently, it's hilarious that I was in this situation. So here it is. Part eleventy-billion of 'people who need to think before they speak'. And for once that person wasn't me.)
So on Saturday, several of us went to celebrate ALV's birthday at the zoo. If you haven't been there (or have only been there for Immunity Day parties), it's a really cute little zoo that you can cover in an hour and cover *well* in two hours. Personally, I adore the otters or - as we have dubbed them - water puppies.
Anyway, as we're preparing to leave, I mention that we should go to see "Quantum of Solace" the following weekend and how it's disgraceful that "Twilight", coming out the weekend after that, is a real threat to the new Bond film's numbers. We begin discussing "Twilight"... by which I mean, I began berating what is sure to be a god-awful movie because it's based on the only books for which I've ever advocated book-burning.
Which is around the time that we hear this woman - complete with tattoos and one of those nose rings better suited for a bull - behind us asking if I'm talking about "Twilight" and if I am, that I need to realize they're the best books ever or she'll throw something at me. Um, what? Lady, let me count the ways you just annoyed me. First, you're eavesdropping. Second, assuming that you're holding drinks, that will be your arsenal of choice. NOT COOL. Third, and this might be a shock, but you should allow people to disagree with you - I didn't hear your threats of physical violence and then think, "Surely, I must be wrong about 'Twilight'!"
And fourth... this is a big one... you're an adult! Find a real freaking book to read. The ONLY possible exception I have for "Twilight" is that it gets kids to read - but that exception is for *kids*. You should have moved beyond this! Look elsewhere for your literary needs. Perhaps... fiction? Without the "young adult" in front of that word? Just a thought.
So yes, I was almost in a throw-down... in the zoo... surrounded by (her?) children... about children's books. It's not "Twilight" - it's the freaking Twilight Zone when that has become a reason for picking a fight with a complete stranger.
*sigh*
And, just because I know one of you out there is sputtering about how "Twilight" IS the best series ever, here's my list of why you're completely wrong:
1. It's called a Mary Sue - you know, the perfect, beautiful, smart, jeopardy-friendly girl that has charming faults like loving someone *too much* and being a klutz. Look it up. It's next to "bad writing" in the dictionary.
2. Speaking of bad writing - bad writing ahoy! You might charge me with the fact that I've never read the books. Which is true... in their entirety. But I have read the excerpts on Amazon. And I wanted to gouge my eyes out with a spork. And then cut my own hands off to make sure I would never return to Amazon again, which would only happen to make sure I wasn't hallucinating the awful. Apparently, compound sentences are a bit beyond this author.
3. The vampires sparkle. SPARKLE. Remember when vampires were evil and soulless? You know, when they were... vampire-like? That's the way I like my vampires. In the words of Buffy (when she was the amnesiac Joan) - "A vampire with a soul? How lame is that?"
4. Congratulations to the author for taking unhealthy relationships to the next level. I know Disney probably screwed up my image of romance as a child, but I don't remember the Beast ever saying to Belle, "Seriously, I love you so much that if you don't love me back, I'm going to go and get myself killed. Because that is the totally sane thing to do when you're experiencing heartache and something totally appropriate for my already emo viewers to identify with. So, I hope that's cool. Love me back if you don't desire my death!" And Belle didn't try to throw herself off a cliff when she was separated from the Beast either. Just saying.
5. Aren't the first four reasons enough???
"What do you mean, 'I'm not sparkly enough'?"
So on Saturday, several of us went to celebrate ALV's birthday at the zoo. If you haven't been there (or have only been there for Immunity Day parties), it's a really cute little zoo that you can cover in an hour and cover *well* in two hours. Personally, I adore the otters or - as we have dubbed them - water puppies.
Anyway, as we're preparing to leave, I mention that we should go to see "Quantum of Solace" the following weekend and how it's disgraceful that "Twilight", coming out the weekend after that, is a real threat to the new Bond film's numbers. We begin discussing "Twilight"... by which I mean, I began berating what is sure to be a god-awful movie because it's based on the only books for which I've ever advocated book-burning.
Which is around the time that we hear this woman - complete with tattoos and one of those nose rings better suited for a bull - behind us asking if I'm talking about "Twilight" and if I am, that I need to realize they're the best books ever or she'll throw something at me. Um, what? Lady, let me count the ways you just annoyed me. First, you're eavesdropping. Second, assuming that you're holding drinks, that will be your arsenal of choice. NOT COOL. Third, and this might be a shock, but you should allow people to disagree with you - I didn't hear your threats of physical violence and then think, "Surely, I must be wrong about 'Twilight'!"
And fourth... this is a big one... you're an adult! Find a real freaking book to read. The ONLY possible exception I have for "Twilight" is that it gets kids to read - but that exception is for *kids*. You should have moved beyond this! Look elsewhere for your literary needs. Perhaps... fiction? Without the "young adult" in front of that word? Just a thought.
So yes, I was almost in a throw-down... in the zoo... surrounded by (her?) children... about children's books. It's not "Twilight" - it's the freaking Twilight Zone when that has become a reason for picking a fight with a complete stranger.
*sigh*
And, just because I know one of you out there is sputtering about how "Twilight" IS the best series ever, here's my list of why you're completely wrong:
1. It's called a Mary Sue - you know, the perfect, beautiful, smart, jeopardy-friendly girl that has charming faults like loving someone *too much* and being a klutz. Look it up. It's next to "bad writing" in the dictionary.
2. Speaking of bad writing - bad writing ahoy! You might charge me with the fact that I've never read the books. Which is true... in their entirety. But I have read the excerpts on Amazon. And I wanted to gouge my eyes out with a spork. And then cut my own hands off to make sure I would never return to Amazon again, which would only happen to make sure I wasn't hallucinating the awful. Apparently, compound sentences are a bit beyond this author.
3. The vampires sparkle. SPARKLE. Remember when vampires were evil and soulless? You know, when they were... vampire-like? That's the way I like my vampires. In the words of Buffy (when she was the amnesiac Joan) - "A vampire with a soul? How lame is that?"
4. Congratulations to the author for taking unhealthy relationships to the next level. I know Disney probably screwed up my image of romance as a child, but I don't remember the Beast ever saying to Belle, "Seriously, I love you so much that if you don't love me back, I'm going to go and get myself killed. Because that is the totally sane thing to do when you're experiencing heartache and something totally appropriate for my already emo viewers to identify with. So, I hope that's cool. Love me back if you don't desire my death!" And Belle didn't try to throw herself off a cliff when she was separated from the Beast either. Just saying.
5. Aren't the first four reasons enough???
"What do you mean, 'I'm not sparkly enough'?"
Friday, October 31, 2008
Happy Halloween
My sole accomplishment of the day (so far - I'm more productive at night... usually) was going to vote. I actually went out of my way, as the first place I went was incorrectly marked on the website as an early voting station. So I drove the opposite direction to get to the *real* voting station, stood in line, figured out the *weird* little machine they have this year and cast my ballot.
I have to admit, for someone who is in the dire straits of PC finals and is suffering from pure, unadulterated dread, it felt rather... uplifting. Not for the presidential election - pfft, I'm aware this is Texas and my vote doesn't matter *there* - but maybe for the local elections.
As a side note - going anywhere on Halloween always turns out to be confusing for me. I saw a nun, complete with a large, wooden cross, at the polling station. Was she really a nun? I haven't seen one in an actual habit since I was about 5. If she wasn't though, that was a fantastic costume... Same goes for the guy who I swear was carrying the carved, 6-foot walking stick and wearing a dashiki.
Charlie says, "Happy Halloween!"
I have to admit, for someone who is in the dire straits of PC finals and is suffering from pure, unadulterated dread, it felt rather... uplifting. Not for the presidential election - pfft, I'm aware this is Texas and my vote doesn't matter *there* - but maybe for the local elections.
As a side note - going anywhere on Halloween always turns out to be confusing for me. I saw a nun, complete with a large, wooden cross, at the polling station. Was she really a nun? I haven't seen one in an actual habit since I was about 5. If she wasn't though, that was a fantastic costume... Same goes for the guy who I swear was carrying the carved, 6-foot walking stick and wearing a dashiki.
Charlie says, "Happy Halloween!"
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Or, I Could Play Poker Professionally
The ABA is telling graduates to have back-up plans, in case they can't get jobs.
... Yeah, I'm trying not to be bitter and sarcastic right here. Anyway...
What's my back-up plan? Going back to school, taking some literature courses and becoming an English teacher.
Or I could open a non-profit, no-kill animal shelter.
Or I could go to graduate school, become a psychologist and listen to other people's problems... hahahahahaha. Okay, that one was for my own amusement.
Or I could open a bar. (No, not a joke. Also, notice the smooth way I separated this one from the teacher idea.)
That's a good start. Also, I'm adept at watching TV, eating fruit snacks, cuddling puppies, playing online, playing video games, criticizing fashion choices, sleeping past noon, shopping for myself and making delicious grilled cheese sandwiches. I'm willing to get paid for doing any and all of those things.
Want my resume?
... Yeah, I'm trying not to be bitter and sarcastic right here. Anyway...
What's my back-up plan? Going back to school, taking some literature courses and becoming an English teacher.
Or I could open a non-profit, no-kill animal shelter.
Or I could go to graduate school, become a psychologist and listen to other people's problems... hahahahahaha. Okay, that one was for my own amusement.
Or I could open a bar. (No, not a joke. Also, notice the smooth way I separated this one from the teacher idea.)
That's a good start. Also, I'm adept at watching TV, eating fruit snacks, cuddling puppies, playing online, playing video games, criticizing fashion choices, sleeping past noon, shopping for myself and making delicious grilled cheese sandwiches. I'm willing to get paid for doing any and all of those things.
Want my resume?
Sunday, October 19, 2008
They (Both!) Have Senses of Humor
I tried to post this a couple days ago, but it went all crazy. Apparently, I shouldn't have dared to link to McCain's lead-in to this speech. So go find it yourself. Needless to say, McCain wasn't as funny, but I appreciate the effort.
What's better than politicians telling jokes? Part awkward, part witty and part "a little too awesome".
Friday, October 10, 2008
The Long and Winding Road
I have the schedule for the last mini-trial exercise. I have a case. I have a witness (well, 95% sure I do). I have a weekend to do some serious outlining. The end of this quarter is in sight.
And I am ready to just give up, curl up and go to sleep for a year.
According to others, I'm long overdue for a nervous breakdown. Apparently, I'll feel better. But who has the time?
And I am ready to just give up, curl up and go to sleep for a year.
According to others, I'm long overdue for a nervous breakdown. Apparently, I'll feel better. But who has the time?
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Officially Broken
Broken or old. I'm not sure. Either way, I'd been noticing my shoulder acting up lately. I don't exactly play sports, and I'm pretty sure my joints aren't predicting the upcoming weather patterns, so it was a mystery. When I sat down to work a couple nights ago, I leaned over my notes, felt the tell-tale twinge and said to myself, "Oh, duh." Yes, I've been writing too much. Or writing the wrong way. Or I'm just addicted to my computer to the point that hand-writing is physically strenuous.
Anyway, those little disposable heating pads that you stick on your body for 8 hours are *awesome*. When I went to get some from Target yesterday though, I was in the aisle with 3 women all over the age of 65. I managed to avoid feeling excessively old and frail before my time by remembering that I was buying Finding Nemo fruit snacks too, as if I'm 12. Still, I hope it's not a look into the future, and that I won't be buying those heating pads in bulk for my arthritis.
Of course, I'll take that in a second rather than being in the next aisle over in the incontinence section.
Anyway, those little disposable heating pads that you stick on your body for 8 hours are *awesome*. When I went to get some from Target yesterday though, I was in the aisle with 3 women all over the age of 65. I managed to avoid feeling excessively old and frail before my time by remembering that I was buying Finding Nemo fruit snacks too, as if I'm 12. Still, I hope it's not a look into the future, and that I won't be buying those heating pads in bulk for my arthritis.
Of course, I'll take that in a second rather than being in the next aisle over in the incontinence section.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Only Sorta About PC
I caught the ending of "The Usual Suspects" today, as I actually don't have so much reading that it'll make my eyes bleed (although I do still have to do *something* about my big direct/cross this Thursday - but yay! I have a witness!). Kevin Spacey always reminds me of that weird category of actor that both interests and repels me. Of course, so far he's the only one in that category. Most actors/actresses either repel me - i.e. Jeremy Piven or Teri Hatcher (nowadays - she was so cute in the 90s! What the eff happened to her???). Or they interest me, even if they are so very odd - i.e. Angelina Jolie making me wonder what she'll say when her kids start hearing about her pre-Pitt life or Tim Burton because I watched "The Nightmare Before Christmas"* over the weekend for the first time in 10 years and just have to wonder what's up with his brain.
I'm sure all these people are probably dull as dishwater in real life. Or, ironically, maybe the ones I find interesting are dull while Jeremy Piven and Teri Hatcher would gain my rapt attention. (I highly doubt this.) All I know is that I enjoy judging them by what they wear to awards shows. Which probably goes to show that I'm just as shallow as they are. Or maybe I'm the only shallow one. (I doubt that too - I can't be the only shallow one.)
If you thought there was a point to this, there's not. I just wanted to avoid reading for an extra few minutes and decided to ramble after reading about fashion mistakes at the Emmys. Although the shallow bit made me think of one of my favorite Futurama quotes, which makes me even happier. So there was a point. For me.
*I got it for my birthday and felt that I could stand to take 2 hours out of my weekend to finally watch it. Sheesh. Gimme a break.
I'm sure all these people are probably dull as dishwater in real life. Or, ironically, maybe the ones I find interesting are dull while Jeremy Piven and Teri Hatcher would gain my rapt attention. (I highly doubt this.) All I know is that I enjoy judging them by what they wear to awards shows. Which probably goes to show that I'm just as shallow as they are. Or maybe I'm the only shallow one. (I doubt that too - I can't be the only shallow one.)
If you thought there was a point to this, there's not. I just wanted to avoid reading for an extra few minutes and decided to ramble after reading about fashion mistakes at the Emmys. Although the shallow bit made me think of one of my favorite Futurama quotes, which makes me even happier. So there was a point. For me.
*I got it for my birthday and felt that I could stand to take 2 hours out of my weekend to finally watch it. Sheesh. Gimme a break.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Witness Needed
Hey all you non-PC people, it's that time of year again. I am sadly lacking 1Ls and 2Ls that I know who are willing to surrender an afternoon or so in order to get a glimpse of what PC is really like. Oh, you know you're curious.
So here's the deal. For now, I need a witness for big direct/cross for Thursday, September 25. I'm going last (supposedly from 3:40 to 5:00) - I'm uncertain if you have to be there, as I do, from 1:00. Probably not?
Anyway, I'm willing to buy you lunch or bring snacks or whatever while we go over your deposition. Anything else that you want is negotiable. If you have to stay the entire time, I'm obviously more amenable to bigger rewards.
Or you could just do it out of the kindness of your heart. Ha.
EDIT: If you don't want to leave a comment and volunteer, you can email me - my first name is Sarah and I hope you know my last name by now. And just to clarify, when I said "negotiable", that means that yes, I am willing to pay you.
So here's the deal. For now, I need a witness for big direct/cross for Thursday, September 25. I'm going last (supposedly from 3:40 to 5:00) - I'm uncertain if you have to be there, as I do, from 1:00. Probably not?
Anyway, I'm willing to buy you lunch or bring snacks or whatever while we go over your deposition. Anything else that you want is negotiable. If you have to stay the entire time, I'm obviously more amenable to bigger rewards.
Or you could just do it out of the kindness of your heart. Ha.
EDIT: If you don't want to leave a comment and volunteer, you can email me - my first name is Sarah and I hope you know my last name by now. And just to clarify, when I said "negotiable", that means that yes, I am willing to pay you.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
So Much More Time To Go
My mom called last night and asked what I was up to these days. I said that at the moment, I was reading. "It's Saturday night!" she replied. Oh, yes, I know.
You know, I'm finding that I don't really mind the constant reading. Well, I do, but it's not like I can say that it's surprising in any way. What I do mind is the other side of the coin - having no time to do anything else whatsoever. I have to plan grocery store trips days in advance and when I go to Office Depot for more highlighters, my heart gets all fluttery because I'm not at home studying. Blech on that, I say. Blech.
Riiiight. Okay, I'm going to try not to whine for a few minutes here... Ummm... Oh! I know! Here's some pathetic news - Jon has already outlasted 2 other new teachers. They were science teachers in front of roughly 40 students per period (as opposed to Jon's 25, or 30 in one class), but good grief. Two down already. This news came on the same day that Jon had to call security because a fist fight broke out in his classroom, so perhaps this shouldn't be surprising. Isn't 17 years old a little too old for making fun of the dorky guy in the class? I guess not...
It all makes us feel a bit old. We were in Pre-AP classes in high school, and that's a whole different animal from regulars classes, but it still seems that kids are expecting less and less responsibility these days.* Jon's kids were actually complaining that he gave them homework every night. As a general rule, we're not talking about kids involved in a lot of after-school activities here. I'm not sure what they want the extra free time for... I'm not sure I want to know.
*I know, that statement alone makes me sound old. I'm having a flashback to that scene in "The Breakfast Club" where the janitor is telling the principal that "Kids haven't changed. You have!"
You know, I'm finding that I don't really mind the constant reading. Well, I do, but it's not like I can say that it's surprising in any way. What I do mind is the other side of the coin - having no time to do anything else whatsoever. I have to plan grocery store trips days in advance and when I go to Office Depot for more highlighters, my heart gets all fluttery because I'm not at home studying. Blech on that, I say. Blech.
Riiiight. Okay, I'm going to try not to whine for a few minutes here... Ummm... Oh! I know! Here's some pathetic news - Jon has already outlasted 2 other new teachers. They were science teachers in front of roughly 40 students per period (as opposed to Jon's 25, or 30 in one class), but good grief. Two down already. This news came on the same day that Jon had to call security because a fist fight broke out in his classroom, so perhaps this shouldn't be surprising. Isn't 17 years old a little too old for making fun of the dorky guy in the class? I guess not...
It all makes us feel a bit old. We were in Pre-AP classes in high school, and that's a whole different animal from regulars classes, but it still seems that kids are expecting less and less responsibility these days.* Jon's kids were actually complaining that he gave them homework every night. As a general rule, we're not talking about kids involved in a lot of after-school activities here. I'm not sure what they want the extra free time for... I'm not sure I want to know.
*I know, that statement alone makes me sound old. I'm having a flashback to that scene in "The Breakfast Club" where the janitor is telling the principal that "Kids haven't changed. You have!"
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Another's First Week
I thought I'd mention that Jon is doing increasingly better with his first days of teaching. The first day was chaos (not just his classes - the entire school, because of various administrative mess-ups). The second day had several students still stuck in summer mode. Yesterday was infinitely better and he came home with an actual smile - the first I'd seen since Sunday. He has students that actually want to learn and that seem to understand what he has started to teach to them. I'm particularly proud of him for helping out a student of his that came to the US 2 weeks ago and doesn't know English - the ESL teacher didn't even know she existed until Jon brought it to her attention and now the girl is going to get help learning the language.
But he did inform me of the latest fad to hit high school fashion (as much as "fashion" can be applied to such a place) - leaving the tags on your clothes so that people will know how much you've spent on them. (Also for the sake of possibly returning them after wearing - something that greatly offends the former retail sales worker in me.)
I think this might beat out clear heels for tackiest fad ever.
(They light up! Even better!)
But he did inform me of the latest fad to hit high school fashion (as much as "fashion" can be applied to such a place) - leaving the tags on your clothes so that people will know how much you've spent on them. (Also for the sake of possibly returning them after wearing - something that greatly offends the former retail sales worker in me.)
I think this might beat out clear heels for tackiest fad ever.
(They light up! Even better!)
Monday, August 25, 2008
First Day of PC - Thoughts
During PC I:
"Okay, keep calm. He's just talking about grades. No, stop freaking out. Stop it! Oh, I'm so going to be one of the people that gets a zero on their first quiz..."
"Wha-what? I read this! What is happening? 3 days? From when? Oh geez."
"No, no, no, NO. Do not be looking at me. Don't call on me! NO! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" *mental breath* "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Please don't ask me anything that has to do with numbers. No, really. There's a reason I want to use words for a living, other than taking 40% of anything. Ah! Dang it. I have NO clue where I read that. Was I conscious yesterday? I'm starting to think not."
"Okay, that wasn't SO bad... And I'm delusional already. Great."
During PC II:
"I wish I hadn't sat this far back."
"I hope I don't look tired. I probably do - two or three hours of sleep total does that to you. I don't think I've been kept awake by fear since the night before my first law school exam almost two years ago. Must. Not. Yawn. Or slouch."
"I'm so happy I wasn't called on again... SO HAPPY. Even happier that I'm pretty sure I know the answer. This is an improvement."
"He does not sound pleased with us. Cower! Cower! Cower more!"
"Yay! Starbucks is calling me - time to go. Wait... what do you mean the afternoon session will last 2 hours? AHHhh... No, I just can't muster the strength for that. I surrender."
"Okay, keep calm. He's just talking about grades. No, stop freaking out. Stop it! Oh, I'm so going to be one of the people that gets a zero on their first quiz..."
"Wha-what? I read this! What is happening? 3 days? From when? Oh geez."
"No, no, no, NO. Do not be looking at me. Don't call on me! NO! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" *mental breath* "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Please don't ask me anything that has to do with numbers. No, really. There's a reason I want to use words for a living, other than taking 40% of anything. Ah! Dang it. I have NO clue where I read that. Was I conscious yesterday? I'm starting to think not."
"Okay, that wasn't SO bad... And I'm delusional already. Great."
During PC II:
"I wish I hadn't sat this far back."
"I hope I don't look tired. I probably do - two or three hours of sleep total does that to you. I don't think I've been kept awake by fear since the night before my first law school exam almost two years ago. Must. Not. Yawn. Or slouch."
"I'm so happy I wasn't called on again... SO HAPPY. Even happier that I'm pretty sure I know the answer. This is an improvement."
"He does not sound pleased with us. Cower! Cower! Cower more!"
"Yay! Starbucks is calling me - time to go. Wait... what do you mean the afternoon session will last 2 hours? AHHhh... No, I just can't muster the strength for that. I surrender."
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Lights in the Sky
Excuse me while I go a bit fangirl here, but the NIN concert last night was the Best. Concert. Ever. And I've seen Tori Amos playing 3 instruments at once. But that doesn't hold a candle to the awesomeness of last night. Completely and utterly worth the hearing loss that I've probably suffered.
(The fantastic Robin Finck on lead last night.)
I do kind of worry about the couple (er, actually three people - I don't want to know) that found "Hurt" a romantic, make-out worthy song. You know, whatever floats their boat (of crazy).
Anyway, the music was fabulous (except for the opening act, which needed a sound check - but I was not there for them). Someone promised that the lighting would blow my mind and it DID. They use those clear LCD screens (THREE levels of them) to their utmost. It was fantastic. Anyone who has the chance should go. Go, go, go, before I pity you.
(The fantastic Robin Finck on lead last night.)
I do kind of worry about the couple (er, actually three people - I don't want to know) that found "Hurt" a romantic, make-out worthy song. You know, whatever floats their boat (of crazy).
Anyway, the music was fabulous (except for the opening act, which needed a sound check - but I was not there for them). Someone promised that the lighting would blow my mind and it DID. They use those clear LCD screens (THREE levels of them) to their utmost. It was fantastic. Anyone who has the chance should go. Go, go, go, before I pity you.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Nerdy Book Post
So I've been reading quite a bit this week, in an attempt to enjoy the printed word again. It hasn't been working quite as well as I'd hoped.
I would love for someone to tell me what the big deal is about Gregory Maguire (author of "Wicked" and "Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister"). I've read both of those said books now, and I kinda want to go find Mr. Maguire and give him a lesson in proper sentence structure. This is not a sentence - "A market." No one should write sentences like that unless it's in a screenplay. Although I detested "Wicked" for being completely ludicrous and a terrible assault on a cherished story, I came close to that level with "Confessions" just because of the horrific writing. It got better as it went along, but it really shouldn't be obvious that the author spent most of his time telling himself, "This prose of mine makes this book real literature! Gosh, I'm so brilliant." I half expected his bio at the back to simply say, "I'm the king of the world!"
Anyway, I got the book for a $1 at Half-Price, so I suppose that's not such a bad cost to pay for the stupidity of giving him a second chance. I suppose I'm annoyed because it's a concept that appeals to me - retelling fairy tales so that not every character is what they have seemed to be for centuries - but my theory is that's why everyone else reads these books too. I'm just more honest about how its execution fails to live up to that concept. Or I'm just being overly-critical.
Then I read a book by Margaret Atwood called "The Penelopaid". Atwood, unlike Maguire, is one of my favorite authors, although not many live up to "The Handmaid's Tale". ("Oryx and Crake" is close.) But this one was so far from THT that I was almost depressed. It wasn't *bad*... it just wasn't the involving, mysterious book that I wanted it to be.
But that's okay. I'm going home tomorrow for a couple days, mostly to see NIN in concert (*squee*). I'll pick up a couple of my tried and true favorites, like "Jane Eyre" or "Emma"... which will promptly be left on my bedside table to get dusty, because I have PC this fall.
Sorry, it just always comes back to that.
I would love for someone to tell me what the big deal is about Gregory Maguire (author of "Wicked" and "Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister"). I've read both of those said books now, and I kinda want to go find Mr. Maguire and give him a lesson in proper sentence structure. This is not a sentence - "A market." No one should write sentences like that unless it's in a screenplay. Although I detested "Wicked" for being completely ludicrous and a terrible assault on a cherished story, I came close to that level with "Confessions" just because of the horrific writing. It got better as it went along, but it really shouldn't be obvious that the author spent most of his time telling himself, "This prose of mine makes this book real literature! Gosh, I'm so brilliant." I half expected his bio at the back to simply say, "I'm the king of the world!"
Anyway, I got the book for a $1 at Half-Price, so I suppose that's not such a bad cost to pay for the stupidity of giving him a second chance. I suppose I'm annoyed because it's a concept that appeals to me - retelling fairy tales so that not every character is what they have seemed to be for centuries - but my theory is that's why everyone else reads these books too. I'm just more honest about how its execution fails to live up to that concept. Or I'm just being overly-critical.
Then I read a book by Margaret Atwood called "The Penelopaid". Atwood, unlike Maguire, is one of my favorite authors, although not many live up to "The Handmaid's Tale". ("Oryx and Crake" is close.) But this one was so far from THT that I was almost depressed. It wasn't *bad*... it just wasn't the involving, mysterious book that I wanted it to be.
But that's okay. I'm going home tomorrow for a couple days, mostly to see NIN in concert (*squee*). I'll pick up a couple of my tried and true favorites, like "Jane Eyre" or "Emma"... which will promptly be left on my bedside table to get dusty, because I have PC this fall.
Sorry, it just always comes back to that.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
I Still Need To Have Some Good Mexican Food
It's been a week since returning to the States, and I've been all kinds of thankful to get back to what I've missed - hamburgers that taste like real beef, milkshakes with real ice cream, pedicures... and sure, my family. Of course, it also means I've gotten back to all the things I haven't missed, like political mud-slinging and car troubles.
After a week of indulging in all that I missed though, all I have left is this horrific death march towards PC. I feel like someone should be briefing me on my mission and giving me a cyanide tablet, "just in case". Lacour gave me the next best thing - a little bag of school supplies, complete with a packet of Kleenex. Cue the dread.
Okay, okay. It's not going to be two weeks of me huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth, hugging my knees and muttering to myself. I have gotten out - I finally saw "The Dark Knight". I can legitimately saw Heath Ledger is owed a posthumous Oscar. And Maggie Gyllenhaal didn't annoy me as much as I thought she would. And yesterday, I saw "Wall-E", which I'm pretty sure is going to nab Best Animated Feature because geez, I'm still melting from the cuteness there. Hello, they took essentially mute robots and made it both endearing and interesting. Although I have to say that the huge drawback of kids' movies are... you know, the kids in the theater. What does it take, parents? How many glares can you sit through before you tell your 8 and 10 year old children to shut up? Apparently, a lot. *pulls out hair*
Anyway, the point is that we're gearing up for a difficult year here and trying to enjoy the last few days of freedom. Jon just returned from his first day of workshops with WISD and has informed me of the pathetic state of Waco High in its TAKS performance - worse than we thought, although not as bad as it could be, I *guess*. He'll be teaching 11th grade math - i.e. exit level TAKS.
He'll be fine. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. Right?
... We're thinking about starting a pool on who cracks first.
After a week of indulging in all that I missed though, all I have left is this horrific death march towards PC. I feel like someone should be briefing me on my mission and giving me a cyanide tablet, "just in case". Lacour gave me the next best thing - a little bag of school supplies, complete with a packet of Kleenex. Cue the dread.
Okay, okay. It's not going to be two weeks of me huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth, hugging my knees and muttering to myself. I have gotten out - I finally saw "The Dark Knight". I can legitimately saw Heath Ledger is owed a posthumous Oscar. And Maggie Gyllenhaal didn't annoy me as much as I thought she would. And yesterday, I saw "Wall-E", which I'm pretty sure is going to nab Best Animated Feature because geez, I'm still melting from the cuteness there. Hello, they took essentially mute robots and made it both endearing and interesting. Although I have to say that the huge drawback of kids' movies are... you know, the kids in the theater. What does it take, parents? How many glares can you sit through before you tell your 8 and 10 year old children to shut up? Apparently, a lot. *pulls out hair*
Anyway, the point is that we're gearing up for a difficult year here and trying to enjoy the last few days of freedom. Jon just returned from his first day of workshops with WISD and has informed me of the pathetic state of Waco High in its TAKS performance - worse than we thought, although not as bad as it could be, I *guess*. He'll be teaching 11th grade math - i.e. exit level TAKS.
He'll be fine. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. Right?
... We're thinking about starting a pool on who cracks first.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
So This Is It
I'm going to be packing up my last few items and heading to the airport in a couple hours. I've been informed that I will indeed have to get my luggage and recheck it in Chicago but that they'll have a special line for us cattle that just want to get through the hell that is O'Hare. Oh gee.
So I'm dreading that. But, that is not to say I didn't live up to my promise and do lots of British-y things in my last two days. If you remember, I did promise myself to make it to the top of St. Paul's - the very, very top. 528 steps. And I did, with minimal sweating and labored breathing too. People around me were snorting like rhinos, but after 5 weeks walking around this city, it was almost TOO easy:
(This horrible picture brought to you by another tourist, who doesn't know you're supposed to focus on the person. Not that I MIND being blurry in this instance...)
I also went to Portobello Road because it was pretty and I was told it wasn't THAT dead during the week... but it was. It was the quickest jaunt to Portobello in history.
For my final day though, I had to go to the just-opened-for-2-month Buckingham Palace. It was kind of exactly like Windsor Castle, except newer looking because these State Rooms are actually used. The English really know how to make ceilings, I'll say that for them, but otherwise, it was a bit too much Louis XIV there. I kind of wonder how anyone could live there and not be freaked out constantly by the opulence. I guess you get used to it. They did have a special room where, for the first time, it was set up as if a State Dinner was going on. That was really gorgeous - definitely a party to get invited to, if you can. I was glad I went, but not overly excited by the actual content.
The back of Buckingham (we all know what the front looks like, I'm assuming?):
And then last night, we met Jeff of BLS fame. He's wandering around Europe and decided to wander over to London. Drinks were bought and then - after realizing he had somehow missed it - we took him to see Big Ben, all lit up.... Then they turned it off and we realized we should be going home. As in, home home.
But not before ALV dared me to climb the famous lions in Trafalgar Square. So I did.
Goodbye, London!
So I'm dreading that. But, that is not to say I didn't live up to my promise and do lots of British-y things in my last two days. If you remember, I did promise myself to make it to the top of St. Paul's - the very, very top. 528 steps. And I did, with minimal sweating and labored breathing too. People around me were snorting like rhinos, but after 5 weeks walking around this city, it was almost TOO easy:
(This horrible picture brought to you by another tourist, who doesn't know you're supposed to focus on the person. Not that I MIND being blurry in this instance...)
I also went to Portobello Road because it was pretty and I was told it wasn't THAT dead during the week... but it was. It was the quickest jaunt to Portobello in history.
For my final day though, I had to go to the just-opened-for-2-month Buckingham Palace. It was kind of exactly like Windsor Castle, except newer looking because these State Rooms are actually used. The English really know how to make ceilings, I'll say that for them, but otherwise, it was a bit too much Louis XIV there. I kind of wonder how anyone could live there and not be freaked out constantly by the opulence. I guess you get used to it. They did have a special room where, for the first time, it was set up as if a State Dinner was going on. That was really gorgeous - definitely a party to get invited to, if you can. I was glad I went, but not overly excited by the actual content.
The back of Buckingham (we all know what the front looks like, I'm assuming?):
And then last night, we met Jeff of BLS fame. He's wandering around Europe and decided to wander over to London. Drinks were bought and then - after realizing he had somehow missed it - we took him to see Big Ben, all lit up.... Then they turned it off and we realized we should be going home. As in, home home.
But not before ALV dared me to climb the famous lions in Trafalgar Square. So I did.
Goodbye, London!
Monday, July 28, 2008
Exams? What?
So today is the big exam day. Most of the others have theirs spread out over 3 days, but I had 2 today and the third is a take-home due tomorrow, so instead of torturing myself at the last minute, I plan to do it tonight at get it over with. Once you're past about 3:30 in London (when my exam ended), there's not a lot to do anyway. Well, nothing that doesn't include the word "pint".
And let's be honest, they're summer classes. Yes, now I know what Incoterms 2000 is, but when one of the questions is "What is a sight draft?", I'm glad I didn't worry too much about the exams.
Instead, I took full advantage of my weekend. Friday was the Tate Modern, which ranges from "interesting" to "I'd put that in my living room - definitely a conversation piece" to "oh GOD, what IS that?... Do I... do I... no, I don't want to know!" (Seriously, there were pieces made with blood - the artist was German. Go figure.) I did get to walk across the Millenium Bridge to get to it though, which was nice, if a bit warmish (that's the Tate in the background):
That night was our last(?) pub crawl, during which I took many a fuzzy photo of Big Ben and the London Eye at night, which I won't subject you to. We did walk (and drink) along the Thames though, which was rather nice:
(I guess that's kind of fuzzy and in the dark too... oh well. Hey look! St. Paul's!)
Saturday was full of British-ness. We went to the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham, which was probably one of the most aggravating experiences of my life. And I once dealt with the US Border Patrol when my taxi driver was an Iraqi - and that still comes in below this one. We got a fortunate place against the fence but were so crushed and abused by people around us, that I had to repeatedly (and quite seriously) tell myself that both the cops and guards had mega-bad-ass weapons and were not afraid to use them. Some people don't understand the concept of personal space. Or deodorant. Or making sure your kids don't step on and kick random strangers. They understand a surprising amount of English swear words though, no matter where they're from. Yeah, a few choice words definitely get their attention and their butts out of your face. (I'm being quite literal about that - they were hoisting themselves up on the fence and I was just the right height to get a disturbing and up-close view.)
Anyway... it was actually kind of boring. I mean, the band was good and I'm glad I did it in order to check it off my list, but I don't need to see it again. Ever. Most of the pictures are pretty dull too. This is the closest we got:
Yeah, those guys just kept walking back and forth. I don't understand the English and their odd traditions.
But after that, we went over to Regent's Park and saw "Twelfth Night" in the open air theater. It's my favorite and it was really quite good. I even recognized a few of the actors from BBC shows and the like.
Yesterday, my procrastination continued as I took a boat down the Thames to Greenwich. It was lovely - the hike up to the Royal Observatory is quite steep, but the Old Royal Naval College is gorgeous. We just sat for quite awhile enjoying the beautiful weather. We even went to the Trafalgar Tavern, which Dickens apparently frequented (and wrote about, I believe). In continuing the "Brits are morbid", I went through the National Maritime Museum to see the coat Lord Nelson died in. He was much littler than you would think...
Here's the Royal Observatory:
And me standing on the Prime Meridian, looking like a dork. I also have a picture of me on the equator in Ecuador... looking like a dork...:
The loveliness that was the Old Royal Naval College (just one side of it):
And the inside of the Painted Hall at the ORNC:
So, I feel like I accomplished more in my weekend than just studying. :) Two more days though! And then I'm off, back to home on Thursday. So I'll probably post once more Wednesday night - we'll see if I'm in frantic packing mode.
Oh, and just a note to STA - when you say "non-stop flight", most people don't count when you land in Chicago, make everyone get off the plane and then reload us into different seats 2 hours later... Do you think I'm going to have to go through customs and recheck my bag??? *dies*
And let's be honest, they're summer classes. Yes, now I know what Incoterms 2000 is, but when one of the questions is "What is a sight draft?", I'm glad I didn't worry too much about the exams.
Instead, I took full advantage of my weekend. Friday was the Tate Modern, which ranges from "interesting" to "I'd put that in my living room - definitely a conversation piece" to "oh GOD, what IS that?... Do I... do I... no, I don't want to know!" (Seriously, there were pieces made with blood - the artist was German. Go figure.) I did get to walk across the Millenium Bridge to get to it though, which was nice, if a bit warmish (that's the Tate in the background):
That night was our last(?) pub crawl, during which I took many a fuzzy photo of Big Ben and the London Eye at night, which I won't subject you to. We did walk (and drink) along the Thames though, which was rather nice:
(I guess that's kind of fuzzy and in the dark too... oh well. Hey look! St. Paul's!)
Saturday was full of British-ness. We went to the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham, which was probably one of the most aggravating experiences of my life. And I once dealt with the US Border Patrol when my taxi driver was an Iraqi - and that still comes in below this one. We got a fortunate place against the fence but were so crushed and abused by people around us, that I had to repeatedly (and quite seriously) tell myself that both the cops and guards had mega-bad-ass weapons and were not afraid to use them. Some people don't understand the concept of personal space. Or deodorant. Or making sure your kids don't step on and kick random strangers. They understand a surprising amount of English swear words though, no matter where they're from. Yeah, a few choice words definitely get their attention and their butts out of your face. (I'm being quite literal about that - they were hoisting themselves up on the fence and I was just the right height to get a disturbing and up-close view.)
Anyway... it was actually kind of boring. I mean, the band was good and I'm glad I did it in order to check it off my list, but I don't need to see it again. Ever. Most of the pictures are pretty dull too. This is the closest we got:
Yeah, those guys just kept walking back and forth. I don't understand the English and their odd traditions.
But after that, we went over to Regent's Park and saw "Twelfth Night" in the open air theater. It's my favorite and it was really quite good. I even recognized a few of the actors from BBC shows and the like.
Yesterday, my procrastination continued as I took a boat down the Thames to Greenwich. It was lovely - the hike up to the Royal Observatory is quite steep, but the Old Royal Naval College is gorgeous. We just sat for quite awhile enjoying the beautiful weather. We even went to the Trafalgar Tavern, which Dickens apparently frequented (and wrote about, I believe). In continuing the "Brits are morbid", I went through the National Maritime Museum to see the coat Lord Nelson died in. He was much littler than you would think...
Here's the Royal Observatory:
And me standing on the Prime Meridian, looking like a dork. I also have a picture of me on the equator in Ecuador... looking like a dork...:
The loveliness that was the Old Royal Naval College (just one side of it):
And the inside of the Painted Hall at the ORNC:
So, I feel like I accomplished more in my weekend than just studying. :) Two more days though! And then I'm off, back to home on Thursday. So I'll probably post once more Wednesday night - we'll see if I'm in frantic packing mode.
Oh, and just a note to STA - when you say "non-stop flight", most people don't count when you land in Chicago, make everyone get off the plane and then reload us into different seats 2 hours later... Do you think I'm going to have to go through customs and recheck my bag??? *dies*
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Final Countdown
Yup, I'm kinda ready to go home. I miss Jon and Charlie and my parents and my friends. I've gotten used to them not being around (especially the ones I see rarely anyway, since I'm in Waco and most of them are in Dallas) but it's getting frustrating that I can't call up my mom and chat for 45 minutes or text Maggie about something utterly girly/catty or hug Jon when he, you know, gets a teaching job.
But, I'm not going to waste my last week here. I have lots of stuff planned, including a few very British-y things like seeing Shakespeare in Regent's Park and watching the Changing of the Guard and walking up the dome of St. Paul's. I've already done a few things this week which are quite touristy and yet I hadn't got to it yet. Monday was a short trek to the Burberry outlet - yes, I got something, but not a $500 trench (even though that's pretty much a steal since they usually go for far, far more). I even resisted the normally $1700 leather jacket that was marked down to $300 on clearance. My mother's words of "you live in Texas - why do you need a leather jacket?" kept ringing in my head. Even though I still want one, it was not meant to be that particular one. Ah well - the woes of being a poor shopaholic.
Tuesday I walked down to the Tate Britain alone and wandered about.
It was farther away than it looked on the map and - of course - the weather has turned quite warm in the last couple of days. Eighty degrees is HOT when you're walking in the sun and no place has air conditioning. Anyway, the Tate is rather charming and on the Thames, but I think that I've seen enough J. M. W. Turner to last a LIFETIME. Seriously - I saw the exhibit at the DMA right before I left and apparently, the artist bequeathed a large number of his works to the Tate to the point where they have a whole section dedicated to him. It was like "yes, yes - another boat in the middle of the ocean. I GET IT." Even though I really do like a lot of his work, it was getting to be a bit much. But I did it and now I can say that I've seen more Turner than the average. Woo.
Yesterday was the National Portrait Gallery, which is actually connected to the National Gallery (go figure) and therefore, right next to the school. It's nice when you're just looking to spend a lazy afternoon walking about - you can skip several of the descriptions in the galleries that are full of boring statesmen or noblemen. They're all Britons and so I usually only read the description if I recognized the name. Oh, and all the descriptions in the "Royalty, Celebrity and Scandal" section because, geez, those people really gave the middle finger to polite society on frequent occasions. I did see several portraits that were quite famous too - the only (supposedly) from-life Shakespeare portrait and (something dear to only me, I'm sure), the one of two from-life Jane Austen portraits done by her sister, Cassandra (which is supposedly not at all a good likeness, which is good, since she looks homely and unhappy in it).
For various reasons, I'm taking today off - it's really quite warm and there was a small fiasco of running around Covent Garden, which completely destroyed my desire to go ahead with my plan of more walking around Hyde Park. I also haven't slept very well since before Scotland, so I think it's early to bed tonight so that I can get up and be fresh for my last week in London.
But, I'm not going to waste my last week here. I have lots of stuff planned, including a few very British-y things like seeing Shakespeare in Regent's Park and watching the Changing of the Guard and walking up the dome of St. Paul's. I've already done a few things this week which are quite touristy and yet I hadn't got to it yet. Monday was a short trek to the Burberry outlet - yes, I got something, but not a $500 trench (even though that's pretty much a steal since they usually go for far, far more). I even resisted the normally $1700 leather jacket that was marked down to $300 on clearance. My mother's words of "you live in Texas - why do you need a leather jacket?" kept ringing in my head. Even though I still want one, it was not meant to be that particular one. Ah well - the woes of being a poor shopaholic.
Tuesday I walked down to the Tate Britain alone and wandered about.
It was farther away than it looked on the map and - of course - the weather has turned quite warm in the last couple of days. Eighty degrees is HOT when you're walking in the sun and no place has air conditioning. Anyway, the Tate is rather charming and on the Thames, but I think that I've seen enough J. M. W. Turner to last a LIFETIME. Seriously - I saw the exhibit at the DMA right before I left and apparently, the artist bequeathed a large number of his works to the Tate to the point where they have a whole section dedicated to him. It was like "yes, yes - another boat in the middle of the ocean. I GET IT." Even though I really do like a lot of his work, it was getting to be a bit much. But I did it and now I can say that I've seen more Turner than the average. Woo.
Yesterday was the National Portrait Gallery, which is actually connected to the National Gallery (go figure) and therefore, right next to the school. It's nice when you're just looking to spend a lazy afternoon walking about - you can skip several of the descriptions in the galleries that are full of boring statesmen or noblemen. They're all Britons and so I usually only read the description if I recognized the name. Oh, and all the descriptions in the "Royalty, Celebrity and Scandal" section because, geez, those people really gave the middle finger to polite society on frequent occasions. I did see several portraits that were quite famous too - the only (supposedly) from-life Shakespeare portrait and (something dear to only me, I'm sure), the one of two from-life Jane Austen portraits done by her sister, Cassandra (which is supposedly not at all a good likeness, which is good, since she looks homely and unhappy in it).
For various reasons, I'm taking today off - it's really quite warm and there was a small fiasco of running around Covent Garden, which completely destroyed my desire to go ahead with my plan of more walking around Hyde Park. I also haven't slept very well since before Scotland, so I think it's early to bed tonight so that I can get up and be fresh for my last week in London.
Monday, July 21, 2008
A Fantastic Weekend
I now have a retirement plan - I'm moving to Scotland, buying a Highland cow and some sheep and living out the rest of my days surrounded by the most beautiful countryside ever with the most darling accent ever being spoken around me.
Yes, I - like ALV did in Ireland - have communed with my ancestors by traveling to the old country. I'm going to ignore the fact that that term for me also includes not only where I've been for the past several weeks, but also Germany and France. Whatever. The point is, my whirlwind 2 days in Scotland were fantastic and I'm going back as soon as financially possible for a proper visit.
We arrived quite early on Saturday and had to amuse ourselves in central Glasgow until our hotel room was ready, so we first went to the Gallery of Modern Art. We thought it would take quite some time, but it was quite a bit smaller than expected. There were many pieces that we simply did not get, but some were at least interesting if not lovely. This is one of the interesting ones:
Afterwards, we went back to George Square, where our hotel was and where they were having an army-sponsored thing called the Piper's Trail. There was some dumb skit involved, but it was punctuated by piping and dancing and kilts. We were unfortunately in the back row:
After we nabbed our hotel room, we still had a couple hours to kill so we went to The Lighthouse, which is dedicated to architecture and design and, in particular, Glasgow's darling - Charles Rennie Mackintosh. It's not a proper lighthouse of course, as it's in the middle of the city, but it does provide some great views of Glasgow from the top of the Mackintosh Tower (the spiral staircase of which was more practice for St. Paul's):
That pretty much got us to 2 pm, in time for the Whisky Bus. Oh yes. There's more. Specifically, my most "communing with the ancestors" bit - drinking scotch. (They really were involved in the trade of scotch, so I'm not making this up. I think they would have appreciated their descendant enjoying good scotch.) Anyway, we went to Glengoyne Distillery and hello - gorgeousness abounded:
The waterfall from which they (and some 17 other, now closed distilleries) traditionally got their water:
And hey, even more gorgeousness (yes, I'm talking about our adorable guide in the kilt and I don't apologize for it!):
I couldn't take pictures inside the distillery, of course, because you know, there'd be a big boom with my electrical device and all the alcohol vapors. But it was pretty interesting stuff and I think that I've been converted to a scotch drinker for life.
After the ride back into Glasgow, we were pretty hungry, so we decided that while in Scotland, we must do as the Scots do. We ate haggis. And you know, it was actually really good. I expected to take a bite and push it away in disgust based upon my mother's descriptions of exactly how they make haggis, but it was delicious! It tasted exactly like what you would expect of a sheep product - like mutton, only richer. The closest I can describe it is that it was like lamb liverwurst. It does color everything else you're eating for the meal, but I'd definitely do it again.
Since we had gotten up to get to the airport at roughly 2 am that morning, we were quite tired. And you'd think that once we got to the hotel, there would be no more excitement. I kind of wish that had been true... but the fire alarm went off in the middle of the night. After much grogginess and confusion, we trooped downstairs, smelling *something* burning all the way. It must have been a small kitchen fire, since we barely saw the firemen and we were allowed back in a short bit later, but don't let it be said that we had a moment of non-excitement. I did feel rather sorry for the bride and groom that had been still partying in the reception hall though - that must have been a short damper on their spirits.
On Sunday, we trekked over to another of C. R. Mackintosh's famous designs, the Willow Tea Rooms. How darling is English afternoon tea? Very (imagine a couple more sandwiches... we were hungry):
And finally, we went to one of the weirdest museums known to man, the Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery:
It had fossils. It had French, Dutch and Italian art. It had Dali. It had stuffed animals (as in the kind that used to be alive and now... aren't). It had mummies. It had an organ (and an organist playing while we were there). It had armor. It had a Spitfire:
And, of course, the elusive haggis:
I didn't even get to half of Glasgow, much less the rest of Scotland. So it's clear I'll have to go back. And live there.
Yes, I - like ALV did in Ireland - have communed with my ancestors by traveling to the old country. I'm going to ignore the fact that that term for me also includes not only where I've been for the past several weeks, but also Germany and France. Whatever. The point is, my whirlwind 2 days in Scotland were fantastic and I'm going back as soon as financially possible for a proper visit.
We arrived quite early on Saturday and had to amuse ourselves in central Glasgow until our hotel room was ready, so we first went to the Gallery of Modern Art. We thought it would take quite some time, but it was quite a bit smaller than expected. There were many pieces that we simply did not get, but some were at least interesting if not lovely. This is one of the interesting ones:
Afterwards, we went back to George Square, where our hotel was and where they were having an army-sponsored thing called the Piper's Trail. There was some dumb skit involved, but it was punctuated by piping and dancing and kilts. We were unfortunately in the back row:
After we nabbed our hotel room, we still had a couple hours to kill so we went to The Lighthouse, which is dedicated to architecture and design and, in particular, Glasgow's darling - Charles Rennie Mackintosh. It's not a proper lighthouse of course, as it's in the middle of the city, but it does provide some great views of Glasgow from the top of the Mackintosh Tower (the spiral staircase of which was more practice for St. Paul's):
That pretty much got us to 2 pm, in time for the Whisky Bus. Oh yes. There's more. Specifically, my most "communing with the ancestors" bit - drinking scotch. (They really were involved in the trade of scotch, so I'm not making this up. I think they would have appreciated their descendant enjoying good scotch.) Anyway, we went to Glengoyne Distillery and hello - gorgeousness abounded:
The waterfall from which they (and some 17 other, now closed distilleries) traditionally got their water:
And hey, even more gorgeousness (yes, I'm talking about our adorable guide in the kilt and I don't apologize for it!):
I couldn't take pictures inside the distillery, of course, because you know, there'd be a big boom with my electrical device and all the alcohol vapors. But it was pretty interesting stuff and I think that I've been converted to a scotch drinker for life.
After the ride back into Glasgow, we were pretty hungry, so we decided that while in Scotland, we must do as the Scots do. We ate haggis. And you know, it was actually really good. I expected to take a bite and push it away in disgust based upon my mother's descriptions of exactly how they make haggis, but it was delicious! It tasted exactly like what you would expect of a sheep product - like mutton, only richer. The closest I can describe it is that it was like lamb liverwurst. It does color everything else you're eating for the meal, but I'd definitely do it again.
Since we had gotten up to get to the airport at roughly 2 am that morning, we were quite tired. And you'd think that once we got to the hotel, there would be no more excitement. I kind of wish that had been true... but the fire alarm went off in the middle of the night. After much grogginess and confusion, we trooped downstairs, smelling *something* burning all the way. It must have been a small kitchen fire, since we barely saw the firemen and we were allowed back in a short bit later, but don't let it be said that we had a moment of non-excitement. I did feel rather sorry for the bride and groom that had been still partying in the reception hall though - that must have been a short damper on their spirits.
On Sunday, we trekked over to another of C. R. Mackintosh's famous designs, the Willow Tea Rooms. How darling is English afternoon tea? Very (imagine a couple more sandwiches... we were hungry):
And finally, we went to one of the weirdest museums known to man, the Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery:
It had fossils. It had French, Dutch and Italian art. It had Dali. It had stuffed animals (as in the kind that used to be alive and now... aren't). It had mummies. It had an organ (and an organist playing while we were there). It had armor. It had a Spitfire:
And, of course, the elusive haggis:
I didn't even get to half of Glasgow, much less the rest of Scotland. So it's clear I'll have to go back. And live there.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Lots of No Picture Stuff
The past three days have been, in some ways, more adventurous than I would have preferred. But these things happen. If you recall, I tried to go to an Old Bailey court proceeding awhile ago and on Monday, I returned. It is a LONG trek, made longer by the fact that we had to first go back to the dorm and drop off our large bags and cameras. But it was a nice day, so we did it, arriving shortly after 2 pm, which is when court started up again. We almost missed the public gallery entrance, as it's marked in tiny letters on an unassuming door. (ALV spotted it - I would have circled forever.) Once inside, we endured the most thorough security check I have EVER been through. And that's including the bag search in Ecuador that involved guards with Uzis. I got FRISKED. She also looked at every single receipt I've accumulated in my purse for the past three weeks, as if I could give someone a deadly paper cut. And then, of course, there was a metal detector. London has been having considerable problems with fatal knife attacks recently, but this was rather ridiculous. Especially when we realized that the public gallery, once we got there, is roughly thirty feet above the main court. Unless I'm Spidey, there's no way I'd be getting down into the pit with the barristers.
Oh well. We settled in... for 30 minutes of opening argument. It was a shaken baby case, which is significantly better than a DUI, but I did spend half of the time trying to figure out if the woman speaking was on the side of the Crown or the defense. We missed her introduction to the jury, and she was so deferential to the other side, that I was wholly confused for a bit there. It took me quite awhile to figure out that she was prosecuting the nanny (instead of defending the parents, for instance). Once opening arguments were finished, we were ushered out by a no-nonsense guard. Well, that was that.
Yesterday was significantly more successful - we went to St. Martin in the Fields' lunchtime concert. Usually it's some private school choir or the like, but this time it was a Beethoven Festival award winner from Russia and he was quite fantastic. He played a rather odd piece by CPE Bach and then a gorgeous piece by Beethoven (of course). It was lovely and free (aside from donations). Even if I don't manage to get to one of the "proper" evening concerts there, I feel like I've listened to wonderful music and got more than my measly donation's worth. The inside of the church is, by the way, quite gorgeous, except for this weird window treatment that looks very modern amidst very French woodwork and gilt. It was odd and unfortunately, you just have to take my word for it, as there were no pictures allowed.
The fun kept on going today as ALV and I hopped down to the Salvadore Dali museum this afternoon after classes. It is, just as it was the first time I went, TRIPPY. And kinda fantastic too. It doesn't have "Persistence of Memory" of course, but it has a lot of his sculpture, a few furniture pieces and lots and lots of his drawings. He was a strange guy, no doubt. Who else would think of making a lobster into a telephone?
After contemplating dropping our non-existent $30,000 on a genuine Dali bronze at the small gallery at the end, we hurried back to the school for the most boring information lecture EVER about how to use our exam software. They seriously told us how to spell-check. I wish I were kidding. Anyway, we only sat through it because they had a wine & cheese party straight afterwards. Free wine? Yes, thank you. It was quite good actually - I don't even care for wine (although it's a personal mission on this trip to start liking it). After fine wine and fancy cheese, we were hesitant to go back to the Hall and eat the slop they try to force down our throats, so we went to a tapas bar instead. It was freaking fantastic.
Well, except for a crazy guy at the next table, who began complaining bitterly to the waiter as soon as we sat down that he hadn't seen his girlfriend/wife/whatever for months and he had specifically requested a private table. We were lost... a) you expect a private table at a place advertising all you can eat tapas for a tenner? and b) WHAT are you so keen to talk about with your girlfriend/wife/whatever over dinner that you absolutely don't want people three feet away to hear? Actually, I know the answer to that question, but um... there's a time and place for that. In the middle of a busy restaurant is NOT it. All of this would have been fine except for the fact that the both of them started turning to us mid-complaint and saying "Really, it's not you. It's just we want some time alone. It's not you!" But so clearly, folks, IT IS. Thanks ever so for making us feel uncomfortable as you alternately berate the waitstaff and apologize to us for something that should not involve us at all. I wish it ended there, but unfortunately, the host got very upset and essentially told the very rude customer to leave if he was so unhappy - they simply could not assure him a "private" table. The V.R.C. then proceeded to FOLLOW the host around the restaurant, continuing to complain and bitch AND telling other patrons exactly how rude said host had been.
What a mess. But after the V.R.C. left, we did have a fantastic dinner that involved many a tapas for a tenner. And on the way home, I did snap this one photo of the oddest little parade I've ever seen - dozens and dozens of people on roller blades, skating to weird techno from stereos strapped to a few people's backs. It's blurry, but in light of what I've been exposed to today, I'm going to call it surrealist art:
Oh well. We settled in... for 30 minutes of opening argument. It was a shaken baby case, which is significantly better than a DUI, but I did spend half of the time trying to figure out if the woman speaking was on the side of the Crown or the defense. We missed her introduction to the jury, and she was so deferential to the other side, that I was wholly confused for a bit there. It took me quite awhile to figure out that she was prosecuting the nanny (instead of defending the parents, for instance). Once opening arguments were finished, we were ushered out by a no-nonsense guard. Well, that was that.
Yesterday was significantly more successful - we went to St. Martin in the Fields' lunchtime concert. Usually it's some private school choir or the like, but this time it was a Beethoven Festival award winner from Russia and he was quite fantastic. He played a rather odd piece by CPE Bach and then a gorgeous piece by Beethoven (of course). It was lovely and free (aside from donations). Even if I don't manage to get to one of the "proper" evening concerts there, I feel like I've listened to wonderful music and got more than my measly donation's worth. The inside of the church is, by the way, quite gorgeous, except for this weird window treatment that looks very modern amidst very French woodwork and gilt. It was odd and unfortunately, you just have to take my word for it, as there were no pictures allowed.
The fun kept on going today as ALV and I hopped down to the Salvadore Dali museum this afternoon after classes. It is, just as it was the first time I went, TRIPPY. And kinda fantastic too. It doesn't have "Persistence of Memory" of course, but it has a lot of his sculpture, a few furniture pieces and lots and lots of his drawings. He was a strange guy, no doubt. Who else would think of making a lobster into a telephone?
After contemplating dropping our non-existent $30,000 on a genuine Dali bronze at the small gallery at the end, we hurried back to the school for the most boring information lecture EVER about how to use our exam software. They seriously told us how to spell-check. I wish I were kidding. Anyway, we only sat through it because they had a wine & cheese party straight afterwards. Free wine? Yes, thank you. It was quite good actually - I don't even care for wine (although it's a personal mission on this trip to start liking it). After fine wine and fancy cheese, we were hesitant to go back to the Hall and eat the slop they try to force down our throats, so we went to a tapas bar instead. It was freaking fantastic.
Well, except for a crazy guy at the next table, who began complaining bitterly to the waiter as soon as we sat down that he hadn't seen his girlfriend/wife/whatever for months and he had specifically requested a private table. We were lost... a) you expect a private table at a place advertising all you can eat tapas for a tenner? and b) WHAT are you so keen to talk about with your girlfriend/wife/whatever over dinner that you absolutely don't want people three feet away to hear? Actually, I know the answer to that question, but um... there's a time and place for that. In the middle of a busy restaurant is NOT it. All of this would have been fine except for the fact that the both of them started turning to us mid-complaint and saying "Really, it's not you. It's just we want some time alone. It's not you!" But so clearly, folks, IT IS. Thanks ever so for making us feel uncomfortable as you alternately berate the waitstaff and apologize to us for something that should not involve us at all. I wish it ended there, but unfortunately, the host got very upset and essentially told the very rude customer to leave if he was so unhappy - they simply could not assure him a "private" table. The V.R.C. then proceeded to FOLLOW the host around the restaurant, continuing to complain and bitch AND telling other patrons exactly how rude said host had been.
What a mess. But after the V.R.C. left, we did have a fantastic dinner that involved many a tapas for a tenner. And on the way home, I did snap this one photo of the oddest little parade I've ever seen - dozens and dozens of people on roller blades, skating to weird techno from stereos strapped to a few people's backs. It's blurry, but in light of what I've been exposed to today, I'm going to call it surrealist art:
Sunday, July 13, 2008
I Only Wanted to Throttle a Few People - Really!
So I'm pretty sure that the second best museum in town (after the incomparable British Museum) is the Victoria & Albert Museum, down near Kensington. ALV and I went down there Friday after classes and had fun pretending to decorate our fictitious mansions with the gorgeous stuff there. ALV went for an ornate French style and I was very much drawn (as I usually am) to the simpler Asian look. The best section was probably the new jewels exhibit, which only opened recently and was not something I'd seen last time I was here. If I had, Jon would have made a quick exit for all the sighing I was doing over the pretty, pretty shiny things. Photographs were allowed inside, but not in the jewel exhibit, which was really the only bit I wanted to photograph. (I did take a few pictures in the courtyard, mainly of the beautiful hydrangea flowers they have, but they've mussed it all up with this hideous new sculpture that fills the lawn. It looked like they were doing construction and I'm still not entirely certain that they weren't.)
Yesterday was an adventure of getting to Windsor Castle, outside the city. We had to go to Paddington Station to get the train and oh good Lord, I hate First Great Western Rail. National Rail said they had a line direct to Windsor but instead of answering our questions ("Where is National Rail in this station?"), FGW employees told us instead to take THEIR train. Thanks, that's not what we asked though. By the end, although we figured out that Windsor Castle's section on "How to Get There" probably needs updating, we were very, VERY reticent at giving FGW any business whatsoever. I was seriously considering creating a scene, which would have included much more colorful versions of asking our one, simple question. But that probably would have broken my own singular rule for this trip - that is, don't get arrested. *sigh* Well, anyway, I was a BIT mollified by finally seeing the Paddington Bear statue at the station:
(If you don't know who Paddington Bear is, your childhood was severely lacking in one of the cutest series of books ever.)
Anyway, we finally (and begrudgingly) took the FGW train and got to Windsor. And then we waited outside as security people made a hash of handling the crowd. (My one non-colorful comment was that if these were the people that helped protect the Queen, she was toast.) After our personal space was violated more times than I could count, we finally got inside. It was, thank goodness, rather pretty:
The Round Tower:
This bit you're not allowed to go into, since it's a "working castle residence" and the royal family actually goes there. Although I don't think I'd ever be comfortable about looking outside my window and seeing tourists gawking over the fence:
St. George's Chapel:
The State Apartments were pretty and full of really fancy furniture that no one has sat on in 50+ years. I wish I could have at least taken pictures of the ceilings which were, oddly, the prettiest parts. That was workmanship, certainly. But overall, it was not as much as I expected, considering the price especially. On the other hand, I've seen it AND I had a very stereotypical English lunch of Shepherd's Pie, which I've always wanted to try. It was quite fantastic, actually.
Still, it was a lot to do and a lot of unnecessary aggravation, so I've taken it easy today. (Again.) My annoyance at yesterday's crowds resurfaced when I tried to go back to the British Museum to see the bits I had missed the first time around. Unfortunately, that included the room with the Egyptian mummies and geez, you couldn't even move in that room. And those audio tour things just make everything worse - people just stand in the middle of the room, in the way, staring blankly at stuff they would have moved right by otherwise. When I came close to tearing one out of an oblivious person's hand when they kept stepping on me, I knew it was time to leave. So I gave up and came back to the Hall. I'll try again after the 24th, when the exhibit on Hadrian opens (I hope there are no audio tours of that). Jon will be sorry he missed it, and I'll have to take a lot of pictures there.
Speaking of Jon (and I don't know why I forgot to mention this last time), I did receive good news from home from him - he officially has a job working as a math teacher for Waco ISD! "Exciting" doesn't even begin to describe how we both feel about this. In two years, Jon has worked at some god-awful jobs (2 of the 3 really were terrible, even in the "if I don't work, we can't pay rent or eat" standard). I am thrilled that that town has finally scrounged up a job that my overly-qualified husband can take without feeling as if college were a waste. He will be an excellent teacher, because he has precisely what good teachers need - intelligence, never-ending patience and a sense of humor.
Yesterday was an adventure of getting to Windsor Castle, outside the city. We had to go to Paddington Station to get the train and oh good Lord, I hate First Great Western Rail. National Rail said they had a line direct to Windsor but instead of answering our questions ("Where is National Rail in this station?"), FGW employees told us instead to take THEIR train. Thanks, that's not what we asked though. By the end, although we figured out that Windsor Castle's section on "How to Get There" probably needs updating, we were very, VERY reticent at giving FGW any business whatsoever. I was seriously considering creating a scene, which would have included much more colorful versions of asking our one, simple question. But that probably would have broken my own singular rule for this trip - that is, don't get arrested. *sigh* Well, anyway, I was a BIT mollified by finally seeing the Paddington Bear statue at the station:
(If you don't know who Paddington Bear is, your childhood was severely lacking in one of the cutest series of books ever.)
Anyway, we finally (and begrudgingly) took the FGW train and got to Windsor. And then we waited outside as security people made a hash of handling the crowd. (My one non-colorful comment was that if these were the people that helped protect the Queen, she was toast.) After our personal space was violated more times than I could count, we finally got inside. It was, thank goodness, rather pretty:
The Round Tower:
This bit you're not allowed to go into, since it's a "working castle residence" and the royal family actually goes there. Although I don't think I'd ever be comfortable about looking outside my window and seeing tourists gawking over the fence:
St. George's Chapel:
The State Apartments were pretty and full of really fancy furniture that no one has sat on in 50+ years. I wish I could have at least taken pictures of the ceilings which were, oddly, the prettiest parts. That was workmanship, certainly. But overall, it was not as much as I expected, considering the price especially. On the other hand, I've seen it AND I had a very stereotypical English lunch of Shepherd's Pie, which I've always wanted to try. It was quite fantastic, actually.
Still, it was a lot to do and a lot of unnecessary aggravation, so I've taken it easy today. (Again.) My annoyance at yesterday's crowds resurfaced when I tried to go back to the British Museum to see the bits I had missed the first time around. Unfortunately, that included the room with the Egyptian mummies and geez, you couldn't even move in that room. And those audio tour things just make everything worse - people just stand in the middle of the room, in the way, staring blankly at stuff they would have moved right by otherwise. When I came close to tearing one out of an oblivious person's hand when they kept stepping on me, I knew it was time to leave. So I gave up and came back to the Hall. I'll try again after the 24th, when the exhibit on Hadrian opens (I hope there are no audio tours of that). Jon will be sorry he missed it, and I'll have to take a lot of pictures there.
Speaking of Jon (and I don't know why I forgot to mention this last time), I did receive good news from home from him - he officially has a job working as a math teacher for Waco ISD! "Exciting" doesn't even begin to describe how we both feel about this. In two years, Jon has worked at some god-awful jobs (2 of the 3 really were terrible, even in the "if I don't work, we can't pay rent or eat" standard). I am thrilled that that town has finally scrounged up a job that my overly-qualified husband can take without feeling as if college were a waste. He will be an excellent teacher, because he has precisely what good teachers need - intelligence, never-ending patience and a sense of humor.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Lawyers and Liquor - Together Forever
I've been rather boring for the past couple of days. This is why most vacations are usually only a couple weeks long - you just get burnt out constantly doing things. You need a vacation from your vacation. London seemed to agree, as it's been constantly raining and/or looking threatening to the point where staying home under the covers sounds SO much better.
Actually, on Tuesday, we honestly tried to do something both touristy AND lawyerly - we trekked all the way over to the Old Bailey to watch the criminal proceedings. Unfortunately, we had our backpacks... and cameras... and we came right in the middle of lunch hour (more like lunch two hours). So we downed our most expensive beers yet and toddled back to the Hall. Since I won't be bringing my camera back to the Old Bailey next time we go, here's a picture from the shady back road we took:
Last night, despite the rain, we did do one fabulous thing - we went to the Absolut Ice Bar. It was freaking fantastic, even if I was bitterly reminded of exactly why I left New York. They keep it at 5 below zero and serve the drinks in ice glasses. It's small and you only get a bit of time in there, but it was worth it. I understand the attraction of that ice hotel that they build up north every winter.
Me in the ice chair, looking stylish in my thermal cape (this is before I realized I had accidentally turned off my flash, but it lets the blue come out more, even if it is fuzzy):
Our wonderful bartender who let us stay between sessions since we showed up late and even gave us extra splashes of vodka in our drinks:
All us girls (and the discovery of the flash!):
Yes, definitely a must-see/must-drink if you're ever in London.
Actually, on Tuesday, we honestly tried to do something both touristy AND lawyerly - we trekked all the way over to the Old Bailey to watch the criminal proceedings. Unfortunately, we had our backpacks... and cameras... and we came right in the middle of lunch hour (more like lunch two hours). So we downed our most expensive beers yet and toddled back to the Hall. Since I won't be bringing my camera back to the Old Bailey next time we go, here's a picture from the shady back road we took:
Last night, despite the rain, we did do one fabulous thing - we went to the Absolut Ice Bar. It was freaking fantastic, even if I was bitterly reminded of exactly why I left New York. They keep it at 5 below zero and serve the drinks in ice glasses. It's small and you only get a bit of time in there, but it was worth it. I understand the attraction of that ice hotel that they build up north every winter.
Me in the ice chair, looking stylish in my thermal cape (this is before I realized I had accidentally turned off my flash, but it lets the blue come out more, even if it is fuzzy):
Our wonderful bartender who let us stay between sessions since we showed up late and even gave us extra splashes of vodka in our drinks:
All us girls (and the discovery of the flash!):
Yes, definitely a must-see/must-drink if you're ever in London.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Holiday Weekend
It's a lazy Monday, full of muffins at an adorable place called The Cinnamon Bar (the tables are full of cinnamon under glass) and laundry. I only have one class on Mondays - European and International Labor Law - and thank goodness, because the European Courts of Justice write their cases like I write blog entries - without editing and little logic. It's translated from German (or is it French?) so maybe that's the issue, but I doubt it. I think the ECJ just enjoys being cryptic, like Yoda, only not as squat and green (although, I haven't seen the ECJ panel - maybe they are squat and green...). I haven't memorized all the EU treaties like they have, so it's a little slow going when they refer to roughly 50 different parts of 3 treaties within 2 sentences. I would fear for getting out alive except that many of my classmates (excluding ALV, of course) seem to forget the "school" part of "summer school" and have taken to showing up to our 11:15 class hung over and without note-taking implements. After BLS, it's kind of shocking. It's weird that I only have culture shock inside the classroom, surrounded by Americans (and a few Australians).
Anyway, ALV spent her weekend in Ireland, so I toured London over the weekend with others. July 4th was celebrated in Covent Garden (the theatre district) with a Indian food and English pubbing (I heart irony). Saturday was spent walking around Portobello Road Market, where everything I loved was ungodly expensive, proving once again that I have costly (but very good) taste. Speaking of ungodly expensive, I went to the movies on Saturday night to see Sex and the City (no one with me wanted to see, oddly enough, Wanted - that'll have to wait, I suppose). It was a movie I could have just as easily waited to see on HBO, but it was a nice night out, I suppose. British cinemas are strange, we discovered, as we sat and watched what was the longest string of commercials EVER before the movie started. It clocked in at 27 minutes and included only 2 actual trailers, one of which I'd seen before. My mother said that British ads were amusing, but she hasn't been here in about 15 years. 15 years changes a lot, apparently.
Yesterday, a friend and I took the Underground to Kew Gardens and walked around for 4 1/2 hours, despite the wind and on-and-off rain. It's really lovely, actually, and I don't even know anything about plants.
I liked the Water Lily House the best, with the giant water lilies that I've seen in Peru:
Kew Gardens is, of course, home to Kew Palace. George III lived there during his bouts of porphyria and Queen Charlotte died there. We saw the actual chair in which she died, which was creepy and reaffirmed my belief that Brits are rather morbid:
I liked the Japanese Gateway:
Inside the Temperate House (the largest Victorian greenhouse), there's the tallest indoor plant (a Chilean wine palm), which is 150 years old and 16 meters high:
And then we went up 18 meters into the air on the Treetop Walkway. A wee bit nerve-wracking:
After that climb, I'm feeling a bit better about my ability to get up to St. Paul's Dome sometime this trip. I swear, I'll make it this time!
Anyway, ALV spent her weekend in Ireland, so I toured London over the weekend with others. July 4th was celebrated in Covent Garden (the theatre district) with a Indian food and English pubbing (I heart irony). Saturday was spent walking around Portobello Road Market, where everything I loved was ungodly expensive, proving once again that I have costly (but very good) taste. Speaking of ungodly expensive, I went to the movies on Saturday night to see Sex and the City (no one with me wanted to see, oddly enough, Wanted - that'll have to wait, I suppose). It was a movie I could have just as easily waited to see on HBO, but it was a nice night out, I suppose. British cinemas are strange, we discovered, as we sat and watched what was the longest string of commercials EVER before the movie started. It clocked in at 27 minutes and included only 2 actual trailers, one of which I'd seen before. My mother said that British ads were amusing, but she hasn't been here in about 15 years. 15 years changes a lot, apparently.
Yesterday, a friend and I took the Underground to Kew Gardens and walked around for 4 1/2 hours, despite the wind and on-and-off rain. It's really lovely, actually, and I don't even know anything about plants.
I liked the Water Lily House the best, with the giant water lilies that I've seen in Peru:
Kew Gardens is, of course, home to Kew Palace. George III lived there during his bouts of porphyria and Queen Charlotte died there. We saw the actual chair in which she died, which was creepy and reaffirmed my belief that Brits are rather morbid:
I liked the Japanese Gateway:
Inside the Temperate House (the largest Victorian greenhouse), there's the tallest indoor plant (a Chilean wine palm), which is 150 years old and 16 meters high:
And then we went up 18 meters into the air on the Treetop Walkway. A wee bit nerve-wracking:
After that climb, I'm feeling a bit better about my ability to get up to St. Paul's Dome sometime this trip. I swear, I'll make it this time!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
And I Did Walk 1000 Miles... I Would Not Walk 1000 More
Today was a tad too full of stuff - I'm about to collapse and it's only 11 pm. That or I'm old. Let's say that I'm just worn out for the day though, and not the rest of my life as I know it.
First was a trip to the British Museum. Ironically, my first trip during my stay so far, although it's possibly the closest major attraction to where I'm living AND it's free.
Hey, look! This seems familiar:
I found it amusing that nowhere in the museum did they refer to these (and all the others) as the Elgin Marbles, as if they're pretending they don't have them. English snobbery amuses me when it's not directed at the Scots:
I miss Charlie (but I'm glad he's not this big... or made of stone):
This is a new addition since 2 years ago. I wonder why...:
After the museum, I went to meet a group of the summer students for a "Legal Walking Tour", which would have been far more interesting if it hadn't been raining off and on at the one time I forgot my umbrella. And I'm still not sure I understand how you become a barrister in England, but I do know that it sounds like entirely too much hassle and heartache. I have a new appreciation for the LSAT.
Gray's Inn (one of the Four Inns of Court) has pretty much one famous member - Sir Francis Bacon:
Lincoln's Inn, under the church, where the orphans were left during the 1700s when times weren't going so well:
Where barristers and judges have been getting their robes and wigs for hundreds of years:
The Royal Courts of Justice (the civil courts). You can see the dark clouds that are threatening to pour down on us, which they did just a short time later:
And the famous Temple Church, built by the Knights Templar in the 11th century:
It was at this point that the rain soaked us through and the guide, ironically, gave rather vague directions to the nearest Tube stop before leaving in the other direction - probably to get a cup of tea.
First was a trip to the British Museum. Ironically, my first trip during my stay so far, although it's possibly the closest major attraction to where I'm living AND it's free.
Hey, look! This seems familiar:
I found it amusing that nowhere in the museum did they refer to these (and all the others) as the Elgin Marbles, as if they're pretending they don't have them. English snobbery amuses me when it's not directed at the Scots:
I miss Charlie (but I'm glad he's not this big... or made of stone):
This is a new addition since 2 years ago. I wonder why...:
After the museum, I went to meet a group of the summer students for a "Legal Walking Tour", which would have been far more interesting if it hadn't been raining off and on at the one time I forgot my umbrella. And I'm still not sure I understand how you become a barrister in England, but I do know that it sounds like entirely too much hassle and heartache. I have a new appreciation for the LSAT.
Gray's Inn (one of the Four Inns of Court) has pretty much one famous member - Sir Francis Bacon:
Lincoln's Inn, under the church, where the orphans were left during the 1700s when times weren't going so well:
Where barristers and judges have been getting their robes and wigs for hundreds of years:
The Royal Courts of Justice (the civil courts). You can see the dark clouds that are threatening to pour down on us, which they did just a short time later:
And the famous Temple Church, built by the Knights Templar in the 11th century:
It was at this point that the rain soaked us through and the guide, ironically, gave rather vague directions to the nearest Tube stop before leaving in the other direction - probably to get a cup of tea.
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