I Summon You Here, My Love

I'm in the library trying to do my paper but I need to watch this Polish flick, Dekalog, and it keeps stopping on my computer.  Absolute bollocks.  Here's a famous bit from it.  I've been listening to a lot of Spoon lately.  Quite good.  Quite good.  Here are the two songs that have been getting a lot of play lately: 



and


I miss you.

Random Update

Hey there, hi there, ho there!  I'm currently sitting in the library getting quotations for the first of three papers I plan to write before jetting off to Italia and la France.  I've just come out of my first (and only!) final exam for this term.  It was pretty great considering I went to bed at about 4:30 and awoke at 8.  Anyway, I think it went pretty well--feelin' funky fresh.  

The picture at right is supposedly the library, but I have no idea what angle they took this from since I've never seen the library look like this.  OH WELL.  I thought it amusing while I walked up the bike ramp today that there was a sign attached to the railing reading: 

Polite Notice: Bikes will be removed.

Just in case people were offended by the sign.  Don't worry!  It's just a polite notice.  Crazy Brits always being so sensitive.  I'm upset I couldn't find about half of the books I needed, especially since it said that they were available online.  Where's my polite notice telling me they are sorry they failed and the complimentary cookie as an apology?  I'll let you know how that works out...

I can tell that I'm almost leaving not because of the date but because I've run out of jelly and see no reason to get more.  Don't worry, though, I've got a bit more Nutella left--I'll not starve.

N.E.R.D.s and Oxford

Amazingly, I'm already updating today.  (a.k.a. I'd rather do this than start studying for my final on Monday...DON'T WORRY.  I haven't lost my work ethic.  The exam is only 30 questions and my professor said the other day that she thinks it's "dead easy."  Relax!)  So, in the rest of my 
reading week, I wrote two papers for my Fathers in Film and Third Cinema and Beyond courses.  The Friday of reading week I met up with Lili and Laura (both from NDA) because Laura was visiting from Cork, Ireland while her stepmom was in town.  We went to lunch at this italian place near Leicester Square since Lili's internship is just a few blocks away.  It was good fun and a nice break from writing.

That Sunday night I went to a football (soccer, for the Americans) match for which Accent had bought us (Wash U students) tickets.  It was Fulham vs. Newcastle at the Fulham stadium, but we were seated in the Newcastle section, which was really great since they were who I had been planning on cheering for (because Kawai was living in Newcastle when I first emailed her that I was coming to London.  Sure, I make decisions with my heart.  So sue me.  Unfortunately, Newcastle lost, but it was still a great game.  I really enjoyed it and the Newcastle supporters sitting around me were really vocal, which made the game even more fun--and made me way more involved!  There were a lot of cheers, but most of the time I couldn't actually understand what was being said.  I did, however, manage to understand when everyone started singing, "The referee's a wanker!  The referee's a wanker!"  

On Tuesday (after turning in those 2 papers, but before turning in one for American Underground Cinema), Adam and I went to the N.E.R.D. concert at the Roundhouse.  I was fantastic!  I'm really pleased that I'm able to say that I went to a concert in London..  Now I just have to get some musical theatre in and I'll be totally set!  Anyway, the concert was at the Chalk Road stop in Camden, which is where Amy Winehouse is from.  I thought it was charming, but it was pretty dark--so I could be wrong.  Anyway, the venue was nice but it was kind of lame that the opener was just a D.J.  Adam and I kept talking about how easy it must be to be a D.J. since you pretty much play music for yourself everyday--a.k.a. everyone's a D.J.  Also, I think N.E.R.D. could have found a better opener (i.e. a live performer) but maybe that's just me.  I was really pleased when they started since they opened with my favorite song on their new album!

                                           

It was a really good show, and I liked how the band interacted with the audience. Pharrell kept asking the audience "What's the greatest country on this side of the world!?" It was really clever of him. But, at one point they invited girls onstage to dance during this song (which is their single for their album Seeing Sounds):
                                
So, everyone was having a crazy time and then Pharrell stopped and told the girls to not point to their friends still in the audience because they should be glad that they're on stage at all. It was a little rude, but whatever. I was also a wee disappointed at the end because they only played for an hour and a half, but theyr have 3 albums and could have totally played for longer--but perhaps that's just my opinion. It also didn't help that they didn't play "Stay Together" from their first album, which is definitely one of my favorites.

                                           

All in all, however, a glorious concert.

My paper for American Underground Cinema came out pretty well, and I actually really enjoyed writing it. It was about Kenneth Anger and his use of music in Scorpio Rising and Kustom Kar Kommandos. I'm definitely a bigger fan of Scorpio Rising, but both were interesting.  Anger has this other film, Invocation of my Demon Brother, that really creeped me out, actually.  Mick Jagger did the sound, which is kind of interesting.  By the end of the film, however, it felt like my ears were bleeding.  I felt physical pain because of the unpleasantness of listening to it.  That actually happened during the screening for the same course when we watched Lawrence Jordan's Our Lady of the Sphere (I looked, but was unable to find it online.  Basically the problem was that it had this really pretty fairylike music but then would interrupt it with this buzz that reminded me of the most annoying sound in the world.  But I digress.  Here are the two parts of Invocation: Part 1 and Part 2.  The best part of the film is at 5:11-5:15 in Part 2.  That bit actually almost made having to sit through it worth it to me.  

That Saturday Accent took us Wash U kids to Oxford.  It was a glorious extravaganza--one that I almost missed!  I arrived at the meeting place at 9:10 and the bus had just left 5 minutes before.  Thank goodness they came back for me!  It took about an hour to get to Oxford.  Luckily, we had ANGIE with us (Angie's the same tour guide who took us through Greenwich.  She is as marvelous as ever!)  She told us a bit about the history of Oxford and universities in general.  Oxford claims to be the oldest university in the English speaking world. (Angie remarked that there are much older ones in other nations and that there is also a long-lasting argument between Cambridge and Oxford about which of them is older since Cambridge had been teaching for longer but didn't receive the official paper saying they were a university until after Oxford had.  So, they'll probably never resolve that issue..)  In any event, Oxford and Cambridge both started as monasteries because that is where the printed books were.  Great thinkers of medieval times would flock to these monasteries in order to further their study.  Often people would follow to learn from them.  Anyway, at these monastic universities, students would study four subjects, I think.  One of them was music, I'm sure.  I think it had to do with relating to astronomy or maths or something like that.  So, all these people poured into Oxford, but there wasn't much room for them to stay.  At first, the townspeople were happy to be able to charge exorbitant rates to students to let them essentially a mallet on the floor with several other men in the room.  After a time, however, resentment began to grow and fights would often break out.  So often, in fact, that there developed a system where the church bell would ring to warn those who wanted to stay away from the violence to get inside and another rang to bring those with fighting in their blood out to partake in the brawl.  A little obscene, but pretty logical if you really think about it.  Angie told us a bit about the English countryside and how much she likes to wander into churches (just like my ma!) and about her childhood and other lovely things.  Sadly, I dozed off while she spoke about picnicking and tricking sheep into eating peanut butter so they'd not beg for more food...

We alighted from the bus near Christ Church College, which 

is one of the many colleges included in Oxford.  Just across from the entrance gate is a shop dedicated to Alice in Wonderland (my favorite bit of the movie) that sells little knick knacks related to the story because Lewis Carroll used to work at Christ Church.  Apparently Alice was the chancellor's daughter and Carroll (whose real name is Charles Lutwidge Dodson) would delight her with stories--even though everyone who had lectures with him thought him the most abysmal professor.  A complete dullard.  Anyway, real life Alice (Liddell) had dark hair, and I seem to remember Angie saying that another one of the Liddell sisters had light hair.  (I also think that she died relatively young--the sister, not Alice.)  Angie said she wasn't really surprised that the Alice books were written in Oxford because you're always going through little gateways or paths and finding new places.  

If the picture above looks familiar but you can't quite place it, perhaps it's because Christ Church was where the Harry Potter films were shot.  Oxford has managed to retain its original character with beautiful architecture and cobblestoned streets.  When coupled with the hidden gates and everything, it really is like stepping into another era.  I mean, Christ's campus literally had cows chillin' on the grounds, so it's definitely an entirely different concept of a university.  For me it was really nice to see another kind of university considering how much a part of the city King's College London is--that's not to say that Oxford isn't a part of the city, but they work in completely different ways.  KCL is part of London in the sense that its streets are the streets of the city, and the university is quite literally just a building.  What I mean is that if you weren't looking for the building where I take all my courses, you wouldn't even notice it--save for the dozens of students standing outside smoking and chatting.  Oxford, on the other hand, essentially IS the city.  Everything sort of grew up around it.  But, it somehow still reminds me of Wash U in the way that there is a lot intended just for students.  The colleges have beautiful, verdant quads (I've noticed how green lawns always are in England.) with food halls and chapels just for them near to accommodation.  I would put up a picture of another of the smaller colleges, but I looked through my pictures and just realized that I only took a photo of one with a slate floor.  Silly me!

We then walked through a little of the city to get 

to this quad that had a beautiful round library that stood in front of a college that had been built for the poor.  Unlike the Naval Hospital in Greenwich, however, this college was actually used by those for whom it had been built.  It was really beautiful, and if you look closely, you can see the sundial that is in all of the colleges.  (It's in the middle at the bottom.)  Unfortunately, that college is only open to those who attend it and even Angie has never been inside.  If Angie hasn't done

 it, I don't want it.  So, the library obviously can't house all of the books that Oxford now has, especially since they've got a deal kind of like the one at Trinity in Dublin where they get a copy of every book printed in the country.  Angie said that you can go in with a request for a book and wait for them to bring it from the larger library, and it travels on a belt underground and it'll arrive in about an hour.   To our right was the church where one of the bells that would alert the townspeople in the days of yore was.  The church actually was originally a lecture hall, but as Oxford grew, they stopped that practice.  Angie really enjoyed telling us about the gargoyled along the church's trim.  Gargoyles, as I'm sure you know, were included in order to scare away the devil.  The scarier the face, the better.  (Disney took this to mean, "scary face, awesome singer"--kind of like "cold hands, warm heart."  Eh?)  Angie commented that some of the faces are so hideous, and you just know that the workers modeled them off of people in the town--perhaps even bosses who weren't paying the wages.  

We went into what used to be the main library for Oxford, I think.

  I'm actually not really sure what it was.  it was really lovely, with some very ornate ceiling carvings.  The symbols on the ceiling represent the crests of families who paid for the construction, I think.  I just realized I don't really know.  We didn't spend too much time in here and Angie didn't really say that much about it. 

 It was lovely, of course.  It was made mostly of glass and stone, which later proved problematic.  There wasn't enough support for the building and it was starting to warp outwards, but luckily Sir Christopher Wren noticed when he was constructing a building just next to it and reinforced the sides so that they would be kept upright.  Actually, the building Wren was constructing was the second one he built.  Apparently there was a contest for the design, and Wren won so he got to build his design: the Sheldonian Theatre.  The design was based on an Italian building and Wren essentially added a roof to make it his own.  Guess what else he added?  You got it!  A dome!

After we walked to an outdoor market to break for lunch.  Angie went off to eat alone again--and she had the same thing as before: a yoghurt.  You probably think I accidentally misspelled "yogurt."  If you do, you're wrong.  They spell it differently, but they also pronounce it "yaw-gert" as opposed to "yoe-gert."  Fascinating stuff, really.  So, yeah, I ate with Linh and Allison.  Allison and I got baguettes, olives, and goat cheese.  So delicious.  (Oh yeah.  I love olives now.)  It was really exciting to get the baguettes because the bakery stand we got them from was French, so I got to work those skills (again!).  Actually, a lot of the stalls at the market were French, which was a bit surprising but lovely just the same.

After lunch, we all met up again to go to Blenheim Palace, which is about 20 minutes away from Oxford.  As soon as we got onto the grounds I was completely awestruck at how beautiful it was.  Again, it was like being taken into another time.  The sprawling lawns, a stone bridge, grand lakes, all of it!  The castle itself wasn't too bad either.  We went through the gates with 24k gold on them and into the courtyard, which was really lovely.  It looked out onto the massive grounds.  I could completely understand why someone was having a wedding there that day.  Anyway, we went inside to get an official tour of the palace.  I was really sorry when I found out that Angie wouldn't be giving it to us because I'm sure she would have done a wonderful job--especially since she goes on the tour every year when Wash U/Accent sends her with the kids.  Oh well.  One of the main reasons that Blenheim Palace is such a big deal is because it is where Winston Churchill was born.  And if there's one person all the Brits love, it's Winston! Let me tell you! They love him in the same way that the Irish seem to love John F. Kennedy!  (If this doesn't make sense to you, let me give you a little story to show what I mean.  When I was in Galway--a.k.a. where JFK once went to make a speech--when Allison and I went into a church they had installed a mosaic of JFK's face next to a statue of Jesus.  That seems to be almost saint status to me...  I don't know about you.)  

Anyway, we went on a little tour of the ground floor and saw stuff from Winny's childhood and actually stood in the room where he was born.  Redickuhlous.  Churchill really had a fond place in his heart for Blenheim as it was the same place where he was born and where he got engaged.  He has mentioned being pleased with both of his decisions.  Supposedly Churchill had been courting this woman (Clementine Hozier) for ages and simply hadn't had the nerve to ask her to marry him.  Anyway, Churchill's uncle or father or something told Churchill that he needed to quit playing games with her heart and get it together that very day.  So, he sent Churchill out with Clementine, and they went to the Temple of Diana in the gardens.  I guess she was also getting fed up with waiting because she later said she saw a spider climbing to the top of a column and decided that if it reached the top before Churchill popped the question that she would return to London.  Good thing he managed to ask before and that she accepted because when the couple returned to the house, the father/uncle had assembled the staff to welcome them back with a celebration!

We then took a brief tour of the rest of the ground floor and

 heard about the history and a great deal about the family.  In addition to Winston being born there, the Spencer's have a stake in the house.  The Spencers are, of course, the family of Princess Diana.  Much earlier, however, Consuelo Vanderbilt was married to Charles Spencer-Churchill, the current owner of the home and the 9th Duke of Marlborough.  Consuelo was the only daughter of William Vanderbilt, and Vanderbilt's wife, Alva, was determined to have Consuelo marry someone of noble birth.  After Alva set up the engagement without Consuelo's knowledge, Consuelo rebelled and refused to marry him.  Alva locked her in her room and allowed her only bread and water until Consuelo yielded.  After Consuelo and the Duke were married, they had two children, whom Consuelo called "the heir and a spare."  She decided that she wouldn't separate from her husband until her oldest son was 12, I believe.  (It might be 9...)  After that, Consuelo and the Duke separated and eventually their marriage was annulled because Consuelo was forced into marrying him.  (Unfortunately, I couldn't really hear most of what the tour guide said, which was fine because she mostly talked about some tapestries and a set of Polish china.  Luckily, though, Angie told us all about Consuelo in the car on the way back.  Again, Angie is ballerific--she managed to work in a love story!)  Consuelo actually died 44 years ago today.

When we got outside we walked around the gardens a bit and then stopped for some cream tea at the tea room in the palace because Angie said it was a really inexpensive place to get it--full tea at the Ritz in London is £35!  Obscene!  Well, unfortunately I misunderstood what cream tea was.  To ME, the title "cream tea" would suggest a type of tea that is creamy or has cream in it.  If I were to assume that, I would be wrong.  Cream tea= regular tea + scone with clotted cream and jam on top.  Those sneaky little english kids!  In any event, it was really delightful.  Angie says you have to be piggy about cream tea, and really slather on the jam and cream.  I did it wrong with the first half of my scone because I didn't put enough clotted cream on and they laughed at me a little.  A.k.a. Angie and I are super tight.  Watch out!  We then took the coach back to London and I returned to my halls before going to the cinema to see Zack and Miri Make a Porno with Adam, Vicky, and Laura (not one of the ones from my floor, but Laura from Floor 6).

Just Flew in From the Lin-dy Cities: Berlin

Hallo hallo.  That's my German for you.  Sorry it's taken me centuries to re-post but it's been a little ridiculous around these parts.  I left off with Vicky and I shooting off to the Dublin Airport to catch our flight to Berlin.  Many of you may remember that Vicky's German herself--good thing too!  I don't know how I would have managed to get around without someone who spoke the language.  It basically opened up waaay more places to me because we weren't limited to English-speaking locales!  Huzzah!

After we landed in Berlin, we took the bus to the U-Bahn (a.k.a. the German underground) to some other bus where we eventually got off near Alexander Platz because we were to be staying with Vicky's friend Ala who works in Berlin while taking a year off from studying dentistry.  Anyway, after alighting the bus we found this swank hotel that let us stash our bags there until we were to come back for them later.  Score.  When we had arrived at the airport we saw that there was a free walking tour of Berlin that we could take that would start at one and so we decided to do that.  We walked over to where the tour was to start, near the Brandenburger Tor (a.k.a. The Brandenburger Gate), which is where Obama gave his speech when he came to Berlin.  Looks like he'll probably be giving it there when he returns as that is the spot where newly elected presidents from all over the world generally give their Berlin speeches.  (According to Vicky, this fact caused some to be upset by Obama making an address there before he had won.  Oh well!)  We decided to walk along until we found a place we wanted to have lunch, which, as I'm sure you know, never really works.  We ended up at this "Story of Berlin" restaurant where we had lukewarm-ish not so delicious pasta, but it was all good in the hood.  Then we walked to the Starbucks (free gingerbread latté samples!  Hooray for cheapness!) from where the tour was meant to leave.

We ended up on a tour with a group of people from all over the place led by Paul.  Paul is an amazing tour guide.  Vicky and I couldn't decide if we liked him or Ed better.  Paul is an Australian from PERTH (a.k.a. home of Heath Ledger).  At the end of the tour we asked him what he did when he wasn't giving tours because these tour guides aren't paid and make their living based on tips from tour goers.  He said he didn't have another job.  But he was awesome enough to be that kind of person.  When he was younger he had studied business, then later became a chef and then moved to Berlin because he loved it there so much.  Do you love Paul as much as we did?  Okay, then we can start the tour.

First we stood in the shadow of the Brandenburger Tor (in Pariser Platz, named so because of the French occupation after WWI) while Paul pointed out 

some other sights in the square.  The god in the center on top of the Gate was gotten back after Napoleon snatchumsed it during his conquests.  They repositioned it so that the god is always looking at the French embassy--"always keeping an eye on them" as Paul awesomely said.  The American Embassy is also nearby, and it only returned to its present site, where it stood pre-WWII, somewhat recently.  In this square is also the hotel where Michael Jackson hung his baby out the window.  Of course.  I took a picture.  It's a super classy hotel where you get your own butler.  I'm pretty sure he said it costs about €300 per night to stay there.  Anywhooo, we walked onto the main street and looked at Der Reichstag, which is where the chancellor works.  Apparently when Hitler wanted to take over they framed this guy who was always pleading guilty to crimes he didn't commit and had him run around the building while it 

was afire yelling "I did it!  I did it!"  Quesionable.  Hitler used this to show the guy in charge, who didn't actually like Hitler, that the people were uneasy and he needed to be put in control.  Anyway, it's a lovely building, and one that Vicky visited when she was in sixth or seventh grade.  I'm sure you wanted to know.  Now they have a huge dome on top where visitors can look at their government wheelin' and dealin'.  Paul said it's "to remind them who they're working for.  Except it's mostly tourists who don't make a difference anyway."  Again, Paul's glorious.  (Before he gave us this information, he gave us a really brief history of Germany, which was short partially because Germany didn't really have a whole lot going on until about 1812.  Anyway, it was founded on swampland as a fisherman village.  That's all I really remember him saying.)

We walked down the road a spell until we stopped at the "Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe."  The name of it is significant, since it's not just called a "Holocaust Memorial."  I talked to Vicky about how difficult it has been for Germany to get away from the image of Hitler and Nazism that has been inextricably linked to it, and I think that this title really shows the desire to distance itself while still paying for that horrific period.  The memorial has no sign anywhere, so that people who don't know wouldn't know what it was.  It's a 4.7 acre site with 2,711 concrete slabs (all the same dimensions) at various heights in the area.  It's really remarkable to stand in.  The designer never said what its meaning 

is meant to be, so that there are many different ways to interpret it.  Some say it looks like a graveyard, rows of train cars, people waiting in lines, and any number of other things.  The ambiguity lends to the memorial's profundity.  It's kind of scary to walk inside, though, because the further you go in, the colder it gets as you become completely surrounded by dark grey concrete.  There was a bit of controversy surrounding the site when a company produced a chemical paint that was put on the slabs to prevent graffiti.  Why the hullaballoo?  It was the same company that created Zyklon B, which killed millions of Jews in 

the gas chambers.  I actually think it's just a small way that they can begin to make up for the past, but that's just me.  

Then we continued through East Berlin to see where Hitler's bunker was.  You would never know that it was there because it's in the middle of a parking lot for some apartment buildings.  Paul wanted to know why no one was taking pictures of them as they were built high so as to show off to those in West Berlin as really desirable places to live: central heating and private bathrooms!  Anyway, Hitler's bunker was under the plot of dirt on the right.  Apparently people used to come looking for the spot and would knock on the doors of the apartments to ask the residents.  Getting annoyed, they erected a sign so that people wouldn't be so obnoxious.  The sign is pretty simple (like a board at a park, yadadimean?), and I would have taken a picture but the other beezies on the tour were crowding around it and I didn't have time.  Anyway, the sign is wooden and not that important looking because no one wants it to look like a shrine to Hitler.  

On we walked while Paul pointed out some buildings, and often pointed out 

the bullet holes on many of the edifices.  To just look at them is really underwhelming, until you think about what it must have been like in Germany when they were all being shot at and to just imagine living in Berlin during World War II is completely unreal.  (In the photo, also take note of the graffiti, as it's kind of all over the place in Berlin--or at least, East Berlin, which is where we spent most of our time.  I was kind of surprised at the amount of graffiti (and bullet holes, I spooooose).  We walked on until we saw this building that had some socialist artwork on the side that showed how happy socialism was supposed to make the people.  Everyone is smiling and working together and getting stuff done.  People are gleefully working in factories and singing songs about the glory of socialism.  What I liked most about this artwork is that it was set behind this water thing (it was like a long, rectangular fountain that had no font, so I don't know what to call it) that had an actual picture of what life under socialism was like for the people of Germany.  What building was this, though?  It was the side of the building that housed the Nazi party.  The building is huge and very imposing.  Apparently Tom Cruise wanted to use the actual building in his new WWII movie but he wanted to put up all the swastikas that have obviously been removed.  Clearly, people were upset.  I can't remember if he managed to convince them with a large donation or not...  I guess we'll see in the movie.  (Or, maybe you'll see as I don't see Cruise flicks on a regular basis.)

Apparently the building is now the building that houses their taxes (a.k.a. their IRS).  "So," Paul said, "it's always been a source of much fear."  Amazing.

After stopping for some coffee (a.k.a. hot chocolate for moi), we got to a long stretch of the Berlin Wall that is still standing near Checkpoint Charlie.  They

 actually erected a fence around the wall because people would often steal bits of it, as I'm sure you've seen.  (I want to say I remember my sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Whitman, bringing in a piece of the wall in this little plastic box one day.  I'm not positive, but it seems like something that's possible..)  Anyway, this was one of the three longest remaining bits of wall still intact--at least that's what I think Paul said.  They still have two rows of bricks in the pavement going through all of Berlin to remind pedestrians of where the wall stood.  (I meant to take a picture but forgot.  Sue me.)  You'll notice the round tops of the wall, and maybe wonder why they would have that instead of barbed wire or something like that.  Well, that wire could actually be used as a hook for people who tried using rope to get over the wall into West Berlin.  So, the Eastern bit sent for those round tubes from Western Germany claiming that they were going to do some irrigation maintenance, and then used the sent materials for the wall.  There is nothing to grab onto, so people were completely thwarted in their efforts to get to the other side and freedom.  After we walked past this we saw some parts of the wall that had been transformed into artwork.  I liked that people reused the source of much repression as a means of expression.  (Look at that fancy wordwork!)  Vicky told me about how her grandmother hid in the trunk of a car to get across the border to meet her fiancé.  The only reason she was able to get out of East Berlin was because they were already engaged when the wall went up.  It's amazing what people went through while the wall was up.

We walked on to the Gendarmenmarkt, which is where a lot of Huguenots escaped to when persecuted.  They formed a little enclave within Germany, and some say that you can still hear 

traces of the French-accented German in pockets of Berlin.  While we were there, Paul told us about this beer that the French made that they liked better than the German kind.  It comes in different colors and flavors.  Year round there is red (which tastes like raspberry) and green (which Paul said he could only describe as "tasting like green").  Vicky says that she's had blue in the summer that tastes like blueberry, and that that one is the best.  I guess it's a mystery to be solved.  In this square, there are two cathedrals (French and German) that flank the concert hall.  Like Trinity College in Ireland, the two cathedrals are the exact same design.  I don't know why architects back in the day were so lazy/obsessed with symmetry, but it's a little ridiculous.  

We walked on to Bebelplatz, which was constructed under the orders of Frederick the Fabulous (as he is often called because of his supposed sexual preferences).  Freddie was kind of a baller, and everyone really liked him because of all that he invested in the arts during his reign.  (Actually, he tried to escape his ties to the throne during his youth, and his father punished him by making him watch the execution of one 

of his friends.  Paul says he and his father were really close after that.  Cultural differences, people.  I'm telling you!) which is a square that has the Berlin State 

Opera, Humboldt Universitaet (a.k.a. where Einstein taught before peacing to the U.S.), and St. Hedwig's Cathedral surrounding it.  In fact, all of the platzes in Berlin have incredible buildings on all sides--it's almost like the city planners want you to get as much culture in one go as possible!  Bebelplatz was also the site of the Nazi book burnings in 1933.  So, now, in front of Humboldt they sell books every day.  In the middle of the platz there is also a monument underground that is dozens of empty bookshelves.  Next to this there is a quotation from Henreich Hein that reads: 

"Dort, wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man am Ende auch Menschen."  

("Where they burn books, they will also burn humans in the end.")

We then made our way over to Museum Island, which is exactly what it sounds like: a bunch of museums on an island in Berlin.  That's where our tour ended.  Vicky and I walked back to get our bags from the hotel and made our way to her friend Ala's place.  After we met up with her we went out for Indian food and Vicky and I went back to the apartment hoping to see some election results (as it was November 4th) while Ala went out to a birthday party.  Unfortunately, it was too early in the states to hear anything.  But, you all know what kind of message I awoke to from the 'rents and sister!  The bombier than ever!

The next day Vicky and I got up and went to KZ (Konzentrationslager) Sachsenhausen (1936), which was the first concentration camp completed and served as the model to the rest of the camps that were built.  We went because the company that provided the free tour gave out brochures that described it as "a site not to be missed when visiting Berlin."   I can't really describe what being there was like.  The weather, gray and constantly barely drizzling seemed appropriate to the somberness of the camp.  What I really remember was walking down the long path to the camp's entrance was the gravel crunching under our shoes and the trees that lined the walk whispering in the wind.  I felt like everything else in the world had stopped and we were completely alone.  There was no other sound or sign of life.  I'm not going to put up many photos of this just because there's too much.  It's difficult to express what it's like.  It is definitely more of an emotional experience than a visual one.  Below is the front gate:

"Arbeit Mach Frei." / "Work will set you free."

When we got back to Berlin we stopped for some lunch/early dinner at an italian place where we had some apple thing that's typically German.  Then, we ended up meeting with Alex Kreis.  Some of you may remember Alex Kreis from St. Brendan School

 and the days when I was on the swim team at the LATC.  Yes, it's the one and the same.  She's studying in Berlin this semester and our fathers ran into each other at the club and, well, the rest is pretty clear.  Vicky and I went over to her area on our way to the airport and we had that Berlin beer I mentioned earlier (no blue, though!).  I had red and Vicky had green.  Green, to me, tastes like syrup and red is raspberry syrup.  Alex hadn't tried it yet, so she had some red.  Unfortunately, we had to get to catch our flight, so we were only able to meet up for about 30 minutes before blasting on the U-bahn to the airport.  Home again, home again, jiggity jig!

Posts Coming Soon:

Oxford!

Leeds/Manchester!

Geneva, Switzerland!

I really hope that everyone realized that "Just Flew in from the Lin-dy Cities" was a direct reference to Calamity Jane.  I love Doris Day (and you should too).  This song is a piece of cloud cake: "The Windy City."  I really do hope you appreciated the thought I put into the title of these two posts.  Oh, the cleverness of me!

Just Flew in From the Lin-dy Cities: Dublin

I'm awfully sorry for not posting in ages, but it's been extra cray cray around here lately.  I spooooose I'll start with Halloween.  A few of us from the flat went out to the campus club (Tutu's) again.  It was really quite fun but we had to stand outside in the freeze for about 45 minutes before, which was not the greatest.  Anyway, I went as a crayon, Laura Cross (NOT America) was Medusa, Vicky: the girl from The Ring, and Neil & Jeev: mummies. Even though Neil's not in this picture, trust me, Jeev's costume was better as he had spent a ridiculous amount of time putting on makeup.  Laura was literally terrified of him and shrieked anytime he looked at her, which was a lot because Jeev is a bit of a laugh.  We got back at about 3:30.

Vicky and I had to be on the bus at 5:50 am to get to the Liverpool Street Station to get a train to go to Stansted Airport.  It was much easier to get to this airport than to Luton, so I was tremendously pleased.  We arrived without any hiccups, except when we got on the train and then we found out that they were switching which one was going to Stansted and everyone on the train sprinted to the other platform as they didn't announce the change until about 5 minutes before it was meant to pull away.  

After landing in Dublin, Vicky and I managed to figure out the best way to reach City Centre and then found our hostel after being misdirected about three times.  So, we had already managed to see a great deal of Dublin's shopping district (Henryl Street) by the time we actually found our hostel.  We pretty much set down our bags and then went back out.  We ended up stopping at "The Earl" to have some luscious Irish bread/scones.  After the Earl we set onto the main street to look for some random sights we 

had seen on one of our free maps.  We looked at the James Joyce Centre, the Writers Museum, and a few other places before ending up at the Dublin City Gallery: The Hugh Lane (and when I say that we looked at those places, I mean it--because we looked at them and then, when we saw they charged for admission, peaced.  Luckily, the Dublin City Gallery cost nothing.)  The Gallery was nice, but since we were so exhausted, it was a bit difficult.  I felt like I would faint a few times, but it was all good in the hood.  My favorite painting was by George Russell (a.k.a. Ae), but I can't remember what it was called.  I just spent like 20 minutes trying to find it online, but to no avail.  Oh well, tharrr she blows!  It's also currently my phone's background, but when I get back to my Umrickan phone, methinks it'll be lost forever.  Best to document it now. 

 Everyone wins.  After the gallery, Vicky and I went to this lovely Memorial garden across the way and enjoyed the glorious weather for a bit before continuing on to wherever the wind took us, à la Pocahontas.  We ended up just going wherever our tourist map made it look like was relatively close.  Being my mother's daughter, I pretty much led Vicky to a church that was nearby.  Alas!  The "Black" Church was all boarded up and kind of strange, so we went on to try to find Dublin's oldest existing Georgian residential street: Henrietta Street (1730).  It was quite a strange sight to behold.  From the outset it looked really beautiful, but as we continued down the road we realized that nearly all of the homes were abandoned.  I couldn't imagine that ever happening in the U.S.  They all had so much potential, it really seemed silly to let them grow into ruin.  This photo also shows Dublin's lamp posts, which I loved so well.  We walked under the arches (part of the King's Inns) at the far end of the picture and exited onto another lovely park.  We were going to sit for a bit but the benches were damp, and so we trudged on.  We walked through some relatively 

sketchy bits of the city on our way to see the Old Jameson Distillery and the Chimney Viewing Tower (built 1895).  Both were on the map.  Both cost money, but it was interesting to see the outside, I spose.  We then walked on to the National Museum of Ireland, which is set up in Collins Barracks (1704).  You could absolutely tell that you were in a military building, what with the massive courtyard and undecorated edifices.  We went through the two fashion exhibits, which always seems to interest us.  The museum had a special exhibit on Neillí Mulcahy, who was a leading Irish haute couture designer in the 1950s and 60s.  (I've just spent 5 minutes looking for information on her online, but they are all in reference to the current exhibit..)  We also went through some of the Celtic art exhibit on our way out.  After we left, we tried to go to Pheonix Park, because I felt (and, indeed, still do feel) certain that someone had told me to be sure to not miss it while there.  Sadly, we walked inside at about 4:45 pm, and someone in a truck down one of the pathways started yelling at us.  We couldn't understand and so kept walking.  He yelled again.  We stopped and stared.  He called again.  "You need to leave.  We're closing."  Sheepishly we exited stage left.  We walked all the way back across the city to get back to our hostel where we sat in the common room for about 30 minutes watching The Simpsons before going out for dinner.  This was after we introduced ourselves to our roommates.  The interaction follows:

Me: Hi.  I'm Jessica, and this is Vicky.

French Representative of the other Six People in Our Room: Okay.

Oh well.  I insisted on Vicky trying fish and chips while we were in Ireland since she hadn't tried them at all and when I was in Galway I had had such delicious ones.  I wish I hadn't, as the place we went had the blandest cod I've ever tried.  Swing and a miss.  We'll get it right at some point, though.  I'm determined.

The next day we set off at about 9 am and went to Malahide ("Home of Eric Crampton's Pottery Shop"!  No joke.  That's what it says on the "Welcome to Malahide Sign.")  Why there?   Well, (besides the pottery shop,) I had texted my friend, Lili, who loved Dublin to see where I must go while there and she said Malahide, just for the gardens and the Guinness Factory.  We took the train there and then walked to the castle and got a bit lost on the grounds before asking one of the many joggers to point us in the correct direction.  We managed to find it!  Sadly, however, the gardens are only open May to September.  And, though I know it's been eons since I last posted anything substantial, I've most 

certainly done so since September.  We were out of luck.  We ended up walking back to the train station and looking at the visitor's map for a bit before deciding to go for a stroll down the beach, as Malahide is a coastal town.  I really liked that bit.  It's been so long since I've seen blue water...  True, I walk along the Thames daily, but it's a mud based river.  What does that mean for the color?  It means brown.  Also, it looked exactly how I wanted Irish waters to look.  So, I was satisfied.  Hopefully you are too.  We walked for a little before heading on back towards the train to the city to get on with the day.  Once we reached the city, Vicky and I walked to Trinity College to see what there was to be seen.  We almost didn't go into the library because there was such a long line, but then we saw that we could get a tour and go into the library for 10€. 

 So, we got a lovely tour from Kieran, a second year student at the college and also saw the Book of Kells in the library, which was really quite extraordinary.  The library on campus shelves books based on their dimensions, which is really foolish considering the brilliance of the Dewey Decimal system, or really any system other than that one.  But Kieran assured us that they have another off-campus facility with millions of books because Trinity gets a copy of every book published in Ireland, which is pretty baller if you ask me.  Also, they have this stupendous scholar system where if you take a test (and pass, of course) you get one three course meal every day and the university pays for your housing and schooling.  It really seems like a fantastic program.  Kieran, unfortunately, had not passed the exam.  In the photo: on the far right is the chapel, which looks the exact same as the exam hall (the pillar of which is on the left).  Kieran told us we needn't take more than one picture since they are identical.  Pwahaha.  (They often call the German architect, one of the laziest as he used the same design for two buildings and never even came to see the work completed.)  Kieran also said that on exam day, it's quite convenient to be able to come directly out of the chapel to walk straight into the exam hall.  He was really quite amusing, but I felt badly for him since they weren't guffaw-worthy jokes.  They were quiet, heavy exhale jokes that make you smile.  Back to the Book of Kells!  It's a lavishly decorated illuminated manuscript of the four gospels written in Latin.  It's been associated with Colum Cille (521/2) in Donegal (represent that heritage!)  The Book probably dates from the early 9th century and may have begun on Iona, which is where the Vikings landed to found Ireland (in the 8th century).  Anyway, the Book of Kells is extra intense because the pigments used for coloring it were imported from the Mediterranean 

region and Northern Afghanistan so that the pages could have lapis lazuli, red and yellow ochre, green copper, and indigo.  It was really beautiful.  After we left Trinity, we walked down the road a bit to Christ Church Cathedral (on the right), which is the oldest building in Dublin.  Though originally a Catholic Church, Henry VIII changed it into an Anglican one, so Vicky and I were able to attend an Evensong service instead of paying to go inside.  While we waited for the Evensong hour, however, we walked down the street to St. Patrick's Cathedral, which is  the second oldest in Dublin.  According to tradition, Saint Patrick's was erected on the site where the Saint himself baptized the first Irish Christians in a well from the River Poddle, which still flows beneath the site 

(which I don't really understand, but whatever...).  The tomb of Dean Jonathan Swift of Gulliver's Travels fame is inside.    It also cost money to get in there, so Vicky and I opted to just enjoy the lovely park outside.  (By the way, the photo on the right, since you probably can't read it, says: "Near here is the reputed site of the well where St. Patrick baptised many of the local inhabitant in the fifth century A.D.)We ended up walking back towards Christ Church only to realize that we were still about 2 hours too early, so we set in search of some eats.  We ended up getting some Persian food, because why not get Persian food in Ireland?  When we finished we still had a bit of time to kill so we walked around the area and stumbled upon Dublin Castle, which wasn't really very much to look at but we needed SOMETHING to look at.  Anyway, we walked around the 

back and realized that they had painted the castle some of the most ridiculous colors so that it had lost some of its authentic castley qualities.  Finally, it was time to go to Evensong, so we did just that.  The singing was really beautiful.  Very well done.  The organ, however, could be terrifying at times.  At certain moments I was actually afraid; all of the sudden, the director would let the organist let loose and (s)he would whip out something akin to Phantom of the Opera, and I just didn't know what to do except flinch.  After the service ended we hot footed it over to the Guinness Factory.  Luckily, Vicky and I were the last people they admitted.  The factory is aesthetically amazing.  It's really beautiful and you can tell that they really love their beer there.  What was far more noticeable, 

however, was the way that the factory worships Arthur Guinness.  One of the first phrases you see after walking into the exhibit: "Centuries ago, many people were convinced that, somehow, lead could be transformed into gold.  In a way, Arthur Guinness was such a man.  But where others failed, he succeeded."  For reals?  My favorite part was where you got to see the advertising of Guinness through the years, including the bottle labels.  They had a ton of information that really made you question how far idol worship should go.  For example, nursing mothers and patients recovering from illness were prescribed Guinness because so many were completely convinced that Guinness was good for you.  it was also offered to people who had just donated blood, was a popular alternative to a cup of tea.  I didn't realize that the Guinness Book of World Records was the same Guinness.  But, they are!  After we enjoyed our free pint of Guinness direct from the factory, Vicky and I headed back to the hostel where we watched The Simpsons for a bit before heading out to find some pizza (or "za" as my beloved cousin John would call it).  After, it was back to the room for some shut-eye.

The next day was our last in the lovely Land of Ire, so Vicky and I signed up for a tour through the countryside: Wicklow and Glendalough.  It had a crazy start in terms of coincidences.  When Ed, our amazing tour guide, let us off for the last restroom in town before being resigned to bushes for a few hours, Vicky and I got out with two others 

(Alex and Sandi) from the van.  While we walked inside, we realized that all of us were at King's College for a semester of study abroad.  We also discovered that they were staying at the same hostel as us.  (I actually remembered them being in the common room with us the night before.)  Insane in the membrane.  Anyway, we set off on the tour while Ed told us all about what we drove past.  Unfortunately, the day of our tour was the worst weather we had our whole trip, so it was too foggy to see some of the sights that Ed usually points out--for example, he stopped at the top of a hill to point to the island of Iona, which I mentioned before, but it was far too foggy to see it, so on we drove.  Later, we stopped at a lake where Oscar Wilde used to live for pictures.  We had to walk through this makeshift path, and I, of course, stepped into a puddle of mud and soiled my white shoes.  Luckily, though, I wore my leather ones and not the cloth ones--tragedy averted!  As we drove on, Ed pointed out a bunch of other scenic spots.  For example, he showed us the field where Braveheart was filmed (that's right, folks.  It's NOT in Scotland!) as well as Lassie (2005).  We drove on, past the bridge they show in P.S. I Love You (at 1:43--obi not 0:11, jokester).  (P.S. P.S. I Love You was a terrible movie, and please don't go see it.)  Just after we passed that bridge, we pulled over to the side of the road to see the 

Guinness Lake, called such because it looks like Guinness in terms of color and because the Guinness family has a house on it.  Apparently, Michael Jackson rented it recently.  I think Ed said it costs about 40,000€ per week, maybe?  I'm sorry I can't remember exactly...We drove onward and stopped shortly after for some lunch.  After lunch we went to Glendalough, which is Gaelic for Glen (Glen-) of Two (-da-) Lakes (-lough).  Ed explained this several times for our benefit.  He first led us into the monastic settlement (founded by St. Kevin

 in the 6th century) where all the people lived inside the walls as a means of protection from the traders/raiders/settlers/invaders, more commonly known as Vikings.  There was a great tower in the settlement from which someone would stay on guard during the summers, when Vikings did their raiding, and he would alert its inhabitants when they were seen offshore (about 40 miles from Glendalough) so that the gold could be hidden.  The teenaged girls would also be hidden as they were the most desirable as slaves.  

You might be able to see that the door of the tower was quite high; it was done this way so that the ladder could be kept inside and it would be more difficult for the Vikings to gain entry.  The girls would be run into the forest to hide.  Actually, much of the gold was buried underground and people are still digging it up today.  In fact, having a metal detector is illegal unless you are working for the government because otherwise the common folk would keep it or sell it.  Anyway, as we continued to walk through the monastery (and the graveyard), we went into the original church, which Henry VIII burned down because they 

wouldn't convert to Anglican.  He was, of course, 

threatened by the Church's power if they could resist him--what would those crazy monks do next!?  So, Ed pointed out the detail on the gravestones, which had the tools of Christ's crucifixion engraved into it: hammer, nails, rope, etc.  Very interesting.  We walked out of the roofless church and he pointed out the cross that is so common to Celtic sites.  It combines the circle of Pagan religion that is meant to represent the sun as well as the cross of Christianity.  Rather than forcing the people to choose one religion, this symbol incorporates both--I guess it hedged their bets..  At this point, Ed went to get the tire fixed since it was slowly losing air and pointed out to us the path to get to the two lakes of the area's name.  We walked on and eventually managed to find them.  It was really quite beautiful.  It's easy to see why anyone would have wanted to live in Ireland or settle it.

After Ed dropped us off at the City Centre, Alex, Vicky, Sandi, and I went out to dinner and then out for drinks.  Since I'm not a big fan of Guinness, which is fine because it seems all the rest of Ireland is, I opted for cider.  While at the pub, we met this guy from Belfast who was so nice and gave us his email address at the hotel he runs and said he would take care of us if ever we were in the area.  He also informed me that a lot of the "Irish" food cooked in America is not really Irish--case in point: corned beef.  He said he had never had it before he went to New York in 1971.  My life (and St. Patrick's Days) are lies.  But, that will likely not stop me.  He also mentioned black and white pudding--it's got blood in it--as typical Irish fare.  I'm not too keen on trying it.  We all walked back to the hostel together and then separated for bed.  Vicky and I had to get up at 4 am to get to the airport to head off to Berlin!

I'm awfully sorry, but this is where this post ends.  It's late and I don't want to give away all my lovin' at once!  

I know I've been gone for a while...

...but this isn't a real post.  I'm just writing to let you know two things.

1) People drink milk a lot here.  Two girls in my Third Cinema and Beyond(!) class were drinking little cartons of milk straight from the bottle.  In the same way crazy dieters were sipping that Beyoncé beverage from milk gallons a few years ago--you know the one with lemon juice and cayenne and hot sauce or something.  The same one that made Kelly Kapoor almost die on the first episode of this season of The Office.

2) I electrocuted myself on Monday morning while trying to plug in my external hard drive to listen to music.  You may not be able to guess, but it's not the best way to start a day that beings at 7 a.m.  But, the day got better from there: I got new headphones and got Sarah's birthday card AND managed to print out all 36 pages of my essays that needed to be turned in by 10 with 30 minutes to spare.  Because of my lack of sleep I considered electrocuting myself more often to have good luck forever.  FYI: I decided against it.

Full post to come soon..

Trippin'

SO sorry it's taken me about 14 years to post again but I've been crazy busy and, more honestly, lazy.  I've done quite a bit of excursioning since last post.  The weekend after the V&A extravaganza, Accent had hooked it up so the Wash U kids studying here this semester went on a day trip to Greenwich, which is further south on the Thames.  (Thames was actually pronounced THames until one of the kings that was brought over to continue the monarchy--a German cousin--was unable to pronounce the "th."  Of course, no one wanted to insult the king by correcting his pronunciation, so it became Temz.)  Anyway, we met at the Westminster tube stop to take a boat down the river to Greenwich.  Accent hired this tour guide, Angie, to take us around and I'm basically obsessed with her.  She knew SO much stuff and she was basically the most charming woman.  I really loved how she knew about everything and talked about the royals like she knew them all and they kicked it on the weekends.  (She is why I know about the Thames pronunciation.)  We kicked off with this building that was built for the retired navy-men.  There is this magnificent dining hall that was designed by Christopher Wren (the same guy responsible for St. Paul's--that's why you recognize those domes on top.  He was always trying to redo the whispering galleries from there.  Those happened completely accidentally in St. Paul's.  And he was never able to make that magic again.)  Anyway, the same guy who did the painting at St. Paul's (Sir James Thornhill) did all the painting for the Great Hall, which was meant to be the dining hall for the retired seamen who would be living there. Everything is hand painted and has so much dimension it's really awe inspiring. Unfortunately, when the work was finished, the higher ups deemed it too grand for the seamen and they were not allowed to eat there.  Ain't that a kick in the groin?  After we spent some time at the Royal Naval Hospital we broke for lunch.  Sadly Angie ate her yogurt in the park solo and we younguns went off in search of eats in town.  We ended up going to Noodle Time and had humongous dishes for £2.80!  £2.80!!  So delicious.  Anyway, after that we all met back up and we climbed to the top of this hill behind one of the Queen's palaces to see the Prime Meridian.  The view once we got to the top was really quite breathtaking.  It was so clear: a perfect day to be there.  Apparently they used to be worried that developing the other side of the Thames would destroy the view from there but I think it looks okay.  (Then again, I don't know what it looked like before..)  Anyway, that tall building is the tallest building in London.  And if you look to the right in the distance you can see the view that I see from my dorm window.  It's marked by what locals call "The Erotic Gherkin."  For those of you who don't know what a gherkin is, it's "the small, immature fruit of a variety of cucumber, used in pickling."  I didn't know when I got here.  Mary from my flat explained it as "it's a cucumber but it's not.")  

Apparently there used to be magnificent gardens between where we were standing and the Queen's palace, which is the simple white building nearest the camera.  But Queen Mary was such a miser she had them all taken out when she gained possession of the palace.  (The gardens were designed by the same guy who did Versailles, but Mary took them out because she didn't want to pay for their upkeep.  Fool.)  Angie then said we could splitskies or stay together.  You can guess which I convinced her to do.  So she took us through the Royal Observatory and attached museum after giving us a detailed history of John Harrison and his long journey towards inventing the marine chronometer.   This led to the development of longitude, as if you didn't know...  Anyway, it was really interesting

and she told us that she was really upset with the renovation of the exhibit because it made it seem like everyone was rooting for Harrison, when they really weren't and tried to stop him from managing to succeed.  They wanted the royal scientists to figure it out and did everything in their power to slow his roll.  Anyways, it wasn't the most interesting of museums but I enjoyed Angie's bits of info.  We saw the Royal Observatory where the Royal Astronomer (John Flamsteed) never missed a night for forty years.  He spent practically his whole life in this octagonal shaped room.  Christopher Wren designed the building for him, in case you were wondering.  Don't worry I'm including a picture of me double hemisphering that ho:

After that Angie really did peace out and we walked back down the tremendous hill to go through Greenwich Market.  It was ooookay.  But I prefer Borough Market or any of the others I've been to.  It was nice, but a lot of it was really just regular stuff being sold at a table.  The two girls I went through the market with got Brazilian "Churros."  I put it in quotations because that's what their sign said.  Anyway, this stand would fill the center of the churro with caramel or chocolate.  I wasn't interested because I was drinking a banana honey thing, but the girls I was with were totally diggin it.  They didn't, however, get any fillings.  Pansies.

On Tuesday last Vicky and I went to the Tower of London.  We really enjoyed our tour guide: a beefeater.  He wasn't exactly sure why they were called beefeaters, though.  He said it may have come from the days when food was rationed and only the nobility was given beef.  Therefore, the title has somewhat derogatory origins.  We really wanted to take a picture with him but I don't know what happened to that.  We asked and he said "Yes, but I have some tasks to finish" and kept walking.  Oh well.  He recommended we see Beauchamp Tower (pronounced Beecham) so we made sure to do that.  Beauchamp was where they kept prisoners and they filled their time by creating intricate carvings in the stone walls.  At first I was flabbergasted

 by the amount of detail of each one and then I realized their creators probably didn't have a whole lot of other stuff going on.  Still, it was neat to see.  We also made sure to see the crown jewels, and those are ridiculous.  They have these obscene settings for coronations made of gold.  The oldest piece is the Anointing Spoon, which was made for Henry II or Richard I (the Lionheart).  I guess it all just sits there until coronation time and then they come pick it all up?  Don't know.  On the walk back Vicky and I discussed taking a trip during reading week, which is this upcoming week.  So, when we returned we booked flights to Dublin and to Berlin.  Look out!

Wednesday I got to take three of my Brits (Jen, Adam, and Jeev) to dinner with Accent fo' free at Wagamama, which is a chain of Japanese restaurants here.  It was good fun and the threes of us were supposed to go out afterwards but guess who forgot her I.D.?  C'est moi!  We returned to the flat.  And I was ashamed.  Thursday I met up with Kawai who was in town for a football game.  We went to Starbucks (though I protested) and then went shopping because she said she needed a dress for going out that night.  I, too, came away with a dress and then hotfooted it to class.  Friday night I went to dinner with two Wash U girls and one two other Americans one of them knows at this Korean restaurant (Assa near Tottenham Court Road).  The food was good, but the wait was ridiculous.  I mean, people were lined up outside for this one room place.  Insane in the membrane.  After dinner all the girls wanted boba, so we trekked over to this place called Cafe de Hong Kong so they could get their fix.  Boba's not really my thing so I got this "mango pudding."  It was good but they probably didn't need to cover it in condensed milk.  And I'd also say it was more of a mango flan than pudding, but who's keeping track?  When I got home I realized I should probably start packing for my weekend trip and so did just that.

I was in bed at midnight and set my alarm for 2 a.m. so that I could catch a 2:52 night bus to Elephant and Castle to transfer to a bus to Marble Arch so that I could get a bus to Luton Airport to make my morning flight to Galway, Ireland.  I did so without any hiccups except that Elephant and Castle is super sketchy at that time and while I was walking between the bus stops some guy said, "Excuse me, miss" to me and I almost stopped but then I realized that the first rule of self defense is to NOT be a complete fool and to slow for nothing.  So I kept moving.  Anyway, I got to Galway without problem.  First time on RyanAir and it was oookay.  The plane I was on was the most obnoxious McDonald's bright blue and yellow and the lights are practically fluorescent so that you have to will the light not to peek through your eyelids.  Luckily, as most of you know, I've never really had a problem falling asleep on planes.  Good thing too because the woman seated next to me was obnoxiously large with a larger case of B.O.  Anywho, after the plane landed the horn came over the loud speaker to announce that the flight had landed on time.  Rude awakening.  As soon as I stepped onto the tarmac, I thinks to myself, I say, 

"Self, this looks like Ireland."  It was lovely.  Even though it proceeded to rain the entire day.  Allison met me at the bus stop that brought me from the Shannon airport to Galway and we walked around Shop Street and Quay Street.  We were going to walk along the water, but the wind was like a wall and it was physically impossible to walk against it.  Anyway, Galway's really beautiful and I could tell it would be really enjoyable when it's not raining.  After a certain amount of time, however, I said we should throw in the towel and just go back to her apartment.  We ended up watching St. Elmo's Fire,  which was ridiculous (I think that video pretty much sums it up) and then Little Rascals was on.  I ended up falling asleep for a bit while Allison showered.  When I awoke we put on dry clothes and went out to a dinner of fish and chips.  I also had mushy peas.  Numnums.  After dinner we went back to her apartment to wait a while until we and some of her American chums with whom she's studying went out to a pub.  We ended up meeting a bunch of people from Bordeaux and I was able to use my French!  I was so excited.  Anyway, that pretty much sums up the night.  We woke up in time for me to get ready and catch my bus back to the airport. Unfortunately, both of us were unaware of the time change and so I was at the airport and hour earlier than necessary and could have spent more time in rainless Galway.  Because, of course, it stopped raining as soon as I stepped onto the bus.  Fantastic.  I took some pictures from the bus.  Sorry they're tinted strangely, but I tried to fix them.