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.  

Someday We'll Be Together

I forgot to mention that Vicky and I went back to the V&A on Tuesday!  There was a slight delay when we got on the Circle Line to South Kensington because of "an incident with a passenger under the car."  No joke.  That's how they phrased that.  

We basically did the bottom floor (meaning all of Asia) and the Mary Wilson exhibit.  The Supremes exhibit was awesome for the clothes that they had on display, but it was strange how they situated it within the context of social change.  While I know that Motown was big because it brought "black music" to the forefront 

when Barry Gordy founded it and it was significant for its cross cultural appeal, I thought that placing the Supremes next to Martin Luther King, Jr. and the whole Civil Rights Movement was strange.  The exhibition kind of failed to link the two together.  Nonetheless, it was really cool to see the clothes and hear the music.  How could you not love it?  I also didn't know that Mary Wilson was pretty much the only constant Supreme from the beginning.  Cray cray.  In the first picture is the loaf of Wonderbread that the Supremes had their picture put on in order to sell vouchers for people to enter the Annual Motown Talent 

Contest in 1965.  They had the clothes they wore on several album covers, performances--notably when they performed for the Queen of England, and from post-Diana days.  Of course, though, they didn't just have the dresses they wore!  They also had the headpieces, WIGS!, and shoes.  So cute: all the shoes had the name of their owner written inside.  All in all, it was an interesting exhibit.  Vicky and I had fun with it.  Even though it was a bit small. 

Also, there were these two women who reminded me of Edina and Patsy from Absolutely Fabulous as they basically pressed their noses up to the cases and sang and danced along to all the songs.  

Afterwards we walked down the street to the Science Museum since it was free and we had a few hours left.  It wasn't my favorite museum, but I wasn't expecting it to be.  We actually spent a lot of time in what I think was meant to be the children's section, but it was still legit.  It basically talked about identity and genetics and

whatnot.  That was interesting.  I've also got to mention that they had one part about gender and how children learn their roles socially.  God bless the Science Museum for making little feminists everywhere!  They also had this trophy for the winner of the British Swearing Tournament Challenge.  Amazing.  That cat on the right has seven toes.  Trippy.  Anyway, after we poked around this floor for a bit, Vicky and I climbed the stairs two stories up (about 60 stairs) to "The Future."  If that was the future, I'm ending things now!  When we got up there, people were basically playing video games where you had to direct someone to a toilet.  I'm not kidding.  

It's Been One Week (and then some..)

On Thursday my friend from high school came into town from Galway with some of her friends to stay with me.  Of course, only she stayed with me and the rest stayed at a hotel nearby.  Anyway, on Thursday when she hadn't called by about 10pm I began to get worried and checked Facebook to make sure that I had given her the correct phone number to reach me.  NOPE!  I had given her the wrong cell number twice.  Two different wrong numbers.  So, I decided to wait at the train station for a bit just randomly hoping that she would just magically turn up.  Of course, she didn't.  Since I wouldn't randomly turn up at a London train station hoping that the person I hadn't spoken to would be waiting there either.  As I realized this, I took the escalator downstairs and ran into Adam on his way back from badminton.  So we walked back together.  I wrote on Allison's sister's wall hoping to get the correct number and also posted on Allison's wall, and we managed to meet up the next day after my American Underground Cinema class.  

I'm sure you all love to see samples of what I watch in my classes, but I really can't justify a sample from my American Underground class.  The most memorable film was 36 minutes of flashing lights.  It really  hurt my eyes when it would flash black, which is strange because usually it hurts to be subjected to bright lights, but this was the opposite.  Anyway, no one in the class really enjoyed them.  We also watched some Ken Jacobs, but on small screens they don't work very well.  Those were more interesting.  I can liken the effect onscreen to looking at a snowglobe in close up while moving around.  Shapes would begin to take form as things moved, but they were all transient.  Really, quite interesting but somehow eerie.  If you want to know what Ken Jacobs is all about, check out the online collection of his films 'til the end of the month here.  That website's always got underground shizz on if that's your thang.  (Perfect Film is the most famous.  And DON'T WORRY!!  Ken Jacobs is pretty important, so it's not time ill spent.)

After I got out of that class, I was free as a weekender!  Since Allison was still with her travel buddies, Jen and I went to Borough Market down the road and stocked up on deliciousness.  Jen got some fudge while I got a chorizo sandwich for lunch and then bought some peaches (not as good as the ones from my backyard), apples (really crisp), a cheese between Camembert and Brie, tomato bread, as well as some razcherries from this stand that has an array of fruits, nuts, and yogurt covered things.  On the way back from Borough, Jen and I stopped at Patisserie Lila where we picked up some cupcakes as part of my neverending quest to find delicious cake.  When we got back, Allison and I took a walk down the South Bank and crossed the Millennium Bridge to stroll around St. Paul's and guess what we saw!?  They were filming the upcoming Sherlock Holmes movie.  Niice.  So, we rubbernecked for a bit while Allison took pictures of Robert Downey Jr. and we tried to figure out which one Guy Ritchie was.  It was impossible until we saw him and Robert play punching.  Quaint.  We came back to the halls and looked through the seven guidebooks I have and found a place to go to dinner called As Greek As It Gets and made our way over to South Kensington for it.  We ended up getting the plate for two, and while the food was good, it really was just a huge pile of meat.  We thought it would be more like a plate to make your own gyros.  False.  But the chicken was AMAZING.  After we got back, Allison and I went to pick up the cupcakes and then met up with some of my flatmates at Guy's bar.  The cupcakes were dry.  The search continues.

Saturday was lovely weather and so Allison and I set out to Portobello Road.  (Portobello Road.  Street where the riches of of ages are sold.  Anything and everything a chap can unload is sold by the barrel in Portobello Road.  You'll find what you want in the Po-ortobe-ello Road.--Bedknobs and Broomsticks)  That clip gave me false ideas about what to expect.  But I wasn't disappointed.  It was crazy crowded there.  Sooo many antique dealers and tourist crap peddlers.  It's not a street market, really.  A lot of the shops are actual stores in buildings.  On the other side of the street, however, there are stands.  But it's not your typical winding marketplace.  It's just one, long, somewhat overwhelming street.  Anyway, for lunch Allison got Ghanian food for lunch and I had a butternut squash tart.  Both were so good.  As we wound our way back up, this woman was selling her jewelry for £5 each, so 

Allison got a 1950s necklace and a set of earrings.  Best part, though, was when we stopped at Hummingbird Bakery and got cupcakes.  FINALLY!!!  Moist, delicious cake.  It was really awe-inspiring after so many strikeouts.  Allison and I couldn't stop talking about it the whole way back.  She got red velvet (only red because of a whole bottle of food dye, didn't you know?) and I got a Nutella cupcake.  So you know I was in seventh heaven.  Also, FACT: Magnolia cupcakes in NYC are overrated.  But Portobello Road was really fun.  The buildings there are so lovely.  All are painted these really fun colors: pinks, turquoises, lavenders!  All my faves!  Afterwards we took the tube to go to Spitalfield's Market in East London, but were dismayed to find that it was closed and planned to go on Sunday.  We popped into some vintage shops that were full of selection but tremendously overpriced.  We walked back to the halls and then went over to Borough Market, which is a completely different scene than on Fridays.  Basically we could hardly move and it was ridiculous.  We ended up getting some fudge though.  Allison got all the different types, but I only got chocolate covered honeycomb (marvelous), chili chocolate, and sea salt caramel.  After we came back, Allison's friends phoned and we decided to all meet up for some dinner.  We ended up going to the Anchor (the historical pub from my first post) and eating there.

The next day, Allison and I got an extremely late 

start to the day.  We ended up meeting with Cristina after she got off work and going for a walk in the park because it was so beautiful outside.  You probably don't understand how luscious it was outside.  We were literally walking around coatless.  I got home and checked the weather: 73º!!  (I still don't know how to do Celsius..)   Everyone was outside just basking in the marvelous sun.  Cristina said it was the best day she could remember in a long time.  And she felt ALMOST like she was in L.A.

In my Fathers in Film course, last week 

we watched 8 Femmes, which was really enjoyable and completely ridiculous.  It's essentially a whodunit musical set in 1940s France.  Bonus: It was partially inspired by George Cukor's 1939 The Women, which is absolutely not to be confused with the 2008 The Women.  Apparently there's also some play that it's based on, but I can't quite remember what it's called at this moment.  There was one moment when I was absolutely reminded of everyone's beloved Bride and Prejudice when

 they burst into the first song.  "No Life Without Wife" is so much like 

"Papa T'es plus dans l'coup," how could you not love it?  This is the same class for which we watched The Silence of the Lambs this past week.  Nearly all the reading we do for this course is Freud.  All I can say about Freud without hesitation is that he's quite eager to fit everything into the Oedipal Complex.  It's quite obnoxious.  (I'm sorry, but I can't talk about Bride and Prejudice without inserting everyone's favorite number here.  You can thank me later.  It's also come on my itunes shuffle three times in the past week.  So, that's significant.)

With all the discussion of films, you might think that I'm not getting in my share of live entertainment.  Fear not, readers!  In the past week I've gone to not one, but THREE, live things.  Whoa!  Dream big.  Last Tuesday, Adam and I went to a debate at St. Paul's Cathedral called "The Battle for Truth?" that was described in the leaflet as: "DOes science lead inexorably to atheism?  Is religious faith irrational?  In this opening discussion, four leading philosophers and theologians consider the nature of science and religion, and how they can clash in the search for understanding."  (That link has the broadcast if you want to listen.  It was played on London's Christian radio station.)  I'm not gonna lie to you.  I didn't really listen to the debate at all.  I thought it would be really interesting, but not so much.  I basically just sat in the cathedral and looked around at the surroundings and kept thinking to myself, "What a beautiful venue.  But the acoustics are terrible."  They really were.  Basically, there was a slight echo so that whenever one of the debaters spoke, it was muffled by what they had said about 3 seconds before.  Sad.  But, I feel pretty good about tuning out because Adam said it wasn't very good and that they all seemed to be coming from the same place.  He knows a lot about this stuff aka he's read some of the materials the debaters were discussing.  (And it's not like I wasn't listening at all.  Even I could gather that what they were saying wasn't terribly varied.  I feel justified.)

Last night I went to Oedipus starring Ralph Fiennes at the Olivier Theatre. 

 Many of you may remember Ralph Fiennes from his stellar work in Maid in Manhattan (A.K.A. J-Lo's greatest movie after The Wedding Planner.).  I've never seen Oedipus in real life and it was pretty good.   It's weird, but whenever I read the play I always imagine that when he comes out after having pierced his eyes that he comes out blind.  False.  This production brought him back out in his bloodied glory.  OOC (Out of Control for those who don't know me..).  Apparently the show is sold out, but we had gotten tickets through the agency Wash U hired.  Well, too bad when this other girl and I arrived, our seats had been given away.  So we went to the box office where they said that the company had returned the tickets a few weeks before.  (I guess they only returned our two tickets?  Strange and wondrous.)  In the end, we managed to get better seats that we had originally been given.  And we got reimbursed too.  Baller.

Last Wednesday the same agency had also bought us tickets to go to the Comedy Store, which is basically improv.  It was pretty good.  I thought they sometimes did sketches a bit too long and I don't particularly care for musical improv, but overall, you could tell that the performers were quite talented and it was enjoyable.  One of my favorites was when they did this bit about a tiger javelin thrower and each performer had to say one word as they answered the questions (so it was like 3 people being one, yeah?) and the interviewer asked about the tigers, and they said it worked best with tigers that spoke French.  Well, the interviewer proceeded to ask what kinds of things the tiger says most while running around the living room during training: "Ouvrez la porte." and "Où est ma soeur?"  Comedy!

I've found that the British have a remarkable sense of humor when telling people to abide by rules.  For example, on my walks to and from class, there is a sign next to the Tate Modern (on the Thames) that says: 

"Music Has the charms to soothe the savage beast."--William Congreve  

but here it can be a nuisance to our neighbors.

It's a sign for noise pollution.  Awesome, right?  Their cigarette boxes also have warning labels, but they are not like the Surgeon General's Warning required on American ones.  These are far more explicit.  Two of my favorites: "Smoking can cause a slow and painful death."  and "Smoking can reduce blood flow and cause impotence."  Pwahahahahahaha.  I love them.  There really are far too many people who smoke in London.  It's quite awful, especially in many of the areas around my halls where they're completing construction and they're essentially funneled all the foot traffic into one aisle so that it is nearly impossible to free oneself from the clouds of smoke.  It's abhorrent so early in the morning.  And in the afternoon.  And at night.... 

Speaking of smoke, my building keeps having fire drills.  There was one Thursday night, Sunday evening, and Monday evening.  Apparently the one on Monday was due to a real fire..  That's what people are telling me.  In general, though, I find the British far more concerned about potential fires than Americans.  I make this statement based on the obscene number of fire doors that they have in every building.  It seems really unnecessary--sometimes they are placed within 5 feet of each other.  For serious.  Today during the 10 minute break in my seminar, I waited 5 minutes to go into the main building for the toilet, and was swept into the current of people being evacuated.  Perfect timing?  Interestingly, the building where my class was taking place, which is in a slightly set off wing was not emptied.  So eventually we all went back inside and class had continued despite 95% of the class's absence.  I didn't get to use the restroom during break.  

This is another picture of the beautiful day that was Sunday.  Probably won't happen again, so I'm documenting here to let you know it was for real.  Doesn't it look like a painting? 

London is the greenest city in Europe.  (Cristina tells me this every time I see her.)  

"Souvent Me Souvient" (the Motto of St. John's in Cambridge)

A thousand apologies for not updating sooner.  It's been crazy busy over here what with classes picking up a bit and catching up with folks from home.  (That's right.  Make it known that you're going to be in London and people start crawling out of the woodwork like no other..)

In class this week I've watched two winners of the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival.  Monday I watched Vozvraschcheniye (The Return), which 

won the prize at the 2003 festival, for my Fathers in Film class.  It was about a father who comes back to his family after being away for 12 years and takes his two sons on a trip.  He essentially gives them a crash course in "how to be a man."  So this is kind of weird, but I really liked the older son in the movie, so I went to IMDB (Internet Movie Database--the cinephile's Wikipedia) and then found out that he had actually drowned on the date of the Russian premiere.  He was born in 1987.  It was crazy (and also eerie considering the role of water in the movie) and sad.  On Wednesday in my Third Cinema and Beyond class, we watched the winner of the 1966 Golden Lion: The Battle of Algiers.  It's about the Algerian struggle for independence from France that had taken place only four years before, so it was still very recent in the audience's memory.  There's one scene where three women take three bombs into the French section and set them off.

I was surprised after the film when all the other students immediately began referring to the Algerians as terrorists because it was impossible for me to see them that way.  I'm including the clip because it's the most famous segment of the film (1:22-the end--more on "The Battle of Algiers 6of13").  The amount of power that the women were given in the effort is remarkable--they were nearly always the ones who carried the weapons that men used to carry out plans.  I thought it particularly significant considering the amount of restrictions placed on women in other aspects of Muslim culture.

I also saw non-Venice Film Festival movies.  Fear not!  On Saturday, Laura America, Vicky, Neil, Adam, and I went to the cinema to see Tropic Thunder.  It was pretty...okay.  I thought it was going to be a lot better than it was considering its high rating on RottenTomatoes.com and also just because I had only read good things about it.  (Although, Adam had told me he only heard mediocre things.  So, he wins.)  Everyone in the audience thought everything was hilarious, and I will admit that it did have its moments.  Tom Cruise was really funny in it.  I actually wouldn't have even known it was him unless I had read that Entertainment Weekly Article about the whole film.  On Friday in my American Underground Cinema course we watched at least six films by the experimental director Stan Brakhage.  All of his movies are silent, which is not to say that it was silent in the way that people usually think of silent movies (which is not silent at all, but merely has an unsynched soundtrack).  These were totally devoid of sound, which worked as a way to intensify the images.  There was nothing to distract from the images and really made you reflect.  We watched Window Water Baby Moving, which shows the birthing process.  Without leaving anything to the imagination.  (She actually said some people watch the movie in biology courses.  That's how rrreal the images are.)  Then we watched The Act of Seeing with One's Own Eyes, which is made entirely of footage from actual autopsies.  They're both really graphic.  It was only after making us sit through these two films that my professor announced that they were not representative of Brakhage's work at all.  He usually works with painted film, which is really quite lovely.  He made this one just after he was diagnosed with cancer.  I really enjoyed it.  Mothlight, however, is his most shown one.  In fact, my professor says that in Introductory level courses about avant-garde cinema, they always show it.  (He describes this as "what a moth sees in its lifetime if black was white and white was black.)  Apparently the correct way to view it is to watch it on 16mm and then examine the film itself, which includes actual pieces of moth pressed between the film.  (I've become a bit of a snob going to Wash U where they make sure to only show films if the original film is available.  Everything we watch here is on DVD.  Tant pis.)

Saturday I had to watch The Birth of a Nation, which was three hours and ten minutes of terrible.  It's based on Dixon's novel The Clansmen, which essentially glorifies the creation of the KKK during the Reconstruction era.  I really have no more to say on the subject.  I'm not even going to include a clip because no one should have to sit through that.  But here's a quotation that pretty much sums up the movie's message: "The former enemies of the North and South are united again in common defense of their Aryan birthright."  D.W. Griffith (the movie's director) and his whole posse are too racist to be fo'real.  

This week was quite an adventure in socializing!  On Tuesday (since I have no lectures/screenings) I met up with Kawai.  Many of you may remember Kawai from her previous appearance as Alex's BFF.  Why, yes.  It's the one and the same.  Only she's blonde now.  (When I asked her why, she said she gets sad when she has dark hair.  And "for her sanity" she keeps it light.)  We started off by showing her my room and then we set off to take the bus (which Kawai is in love with) to Piccadilly Circus.  Kawai insisted on us having tea at Fortnum & Mason, which was delightful.  Unfortunately, London seems to think it's okay to start getting ready for Christmas, and it irks me quite a bit.  The entire bottom floor was fooling customers into purchasing white, sparkly ornaments.  I just wasn't having it.  (It's not just 300 year old department stores that are too pumped for the jelly-bellied pimp in the red suit, restaurants all over town are proclaiming that they are accepting Christmas reservations.  It's kind of gnarly.)  Afterwards, we winded our way over to Chinatown where we actually went to a Korean restaurant.  Kawai's still a vegetarian.  Somewhat non sequitur, but you wanted to know--I'm sure.  Afterwards we went over to Oxford Circus on the bus and encountered one of my biggest problems with London: people are ALWAYS out on the streets.  I really think that people should be in working more often.  I'm not kidding.  You really have to work at navigating the throngs of people.  Anyway, Kawai and I first stopped at the biggest Primark in London (maybe--the world!?).  Kawai wanted me to make sure to tell people this and then followed that instruction up with "That's really ghetto fabulous."  (Primark is like Forever 21 but with waaay more people and a home section.  A.K.A. Chaotic like Britney and Kevin.)  I came away with a cardigan for £8.  Then we went across the street to this other store that is slightly pricier but with waay less people so it's worth it.  I got a pair of Houndstooth flats.   Successsss.  Kawai thought we had earned a drink so we went over to Waterloo where there was some bar she had wanted to go to, and then we separated.

On Wednesday, Kawai and I met up to go to a pub for some eats and drank.   Remember a few posts ago when I tried to get a panini at that pub but then sheepishly left before I got up the nerve?  Well, that's where we went!  I got the sandwich I had wanted before, and it was really kind of disappointing, but oh well.  Food in London, in general, is not much to talk about. Actually, that's not entirely true--the non-British food is quite good.  I don't really think British people like to eat (probs why Londoners are so thin)

and so they make their food really quite bland.  Anyway, after Kawai had finished her cheese plate we separated.  I went back home to get ready to meet up with Lili and go to Cristina's housewarming party.  (That's right!  It was essentially an NDA reunion on an exceptionally small scale but in a foreign country, so I think it all evens out.)  We haphazardly met up at the Green Park platform and hopped back on the train and rode out to Zone 3 (Big Deal!) to get to Cristina's house.  It was really fun to be all together and Lili was tweaking out at how British Cristina sounds now.   We ended up going back on the tube with another American (Lili's new BFF Gabriel).  Lili and Gabe were quite acrobatic on the ride home, as you can see.  I have to say that the highlight of the night was when a Briton (Oliver from the coast) told Lili and I that we didn't look American because we didn't dress as badly as Americans do.  I think that's just about the biggest compliment I've received in a long while.  (To prove his statement, the other American in my class was wearing sweats, a sweatshirt, and Uggs in screening today.  Disaster.  Londoners do not wear sweats to class.  That is all trash--i.e. all American.)

Friday, Kawai and I met up to go to Borough Market, which is this outdoor market, à la Farmers Market behind my hizzle.  It was pretty awesome and Kawai got this vegetarian burger that she said tasted "really natural" and I got a snausage roll with cranberry sauce.  It was okay.  I also got cake, which was better than the Sainsbury's cake but I'm still on a quest for glorious cake magic.  She got yogurt and chocolate covered nuts.  That night I ended up meeting up with Cristina and her housemates at a gay nightclub for Paolo's birthday.  (Paolo is Cristina's Italian housemate.  In fact, their house is quite diverse.  The facebook invitation said their housewarming party was being thrown by "An American bimbo.  A Romanian pickpocket.  An Italian mafioso.  A common Northerner.  And a Welsh sheep shagger.)  Anyway, all I realized is that the Brits really DO love their eighties more than is probably necessary.  But the club was ridiculous in that it had about 7 different rooms all with different names: The Love Lounge, the Indie Room, the Pop Lounge, etc.

On Sunday, I was meant to meet up with a girl from Wash U at King's Cross Train Station to take a train to Cambridge.  I left my building and started to go through a cordoned off area to get to the tube station when a police officer came up to me to point out that the Police Line was there to keep me out of the area.  Whoops!  (The story is that some guy was shot in the head outside the nightclub in the tunnel that's down the street. SeOne.  It's actually the club where KCL hosted the Autumn Ball that my fresher floormates went to on Wednesday when I was at Sin.  Anyway, it happened at about 5:30 in the morning and seems to be pre-meditated.  DON'T WORRY!)  Anyway, when I got on the train I realized that I had forgotten my phone in my room, and when I didn't see her on the platform, I figured I would just take the train and meet her as she alighted on the other end.  Too bad when I got off and waited, she was nowhere to be found.  So, I figured since I was already there I might as well make the most of the time there and so I set off to explore the wonders of this town that Pauline Frommer's says "would barely have a pulse without its university."  When I started walking down the main drag, which was about a mile from the train station nothing was open.  So I looked at one of the randomly located maps and decided to walk to Castle Mound because who doesn't love a good castle?  Well, I walked along the street probably another mile and a half until I looked around me and realized the street name had changed and I had no clue where Castle Mound was.  So I turned back around and walked back to the city center and basically just went shopping and purchased nothing.  On the way back to the city center, I passed by Round 

Church, which I later found out was constructed in the 12th century and is the oldest of four remaining circular churches in England.  Awesome!  When I was back at the "heart of Cambridge," I did go to an open-air market and purchased some Jamaican ginger bread.  It's good, and tastes really fresh.  I was walking back toward the train station when I stopped into "MannaMexico" for some eats.  Well, I certainly wouldn't have called this Mexican food for the gods, but different strokes.  They did provide me with a "salsa" (a.k.a. brownish-red sauce) that nearly burned my tongue off.  Good thing I didn't ask them to make it spicy!  So, then I consulted my guidebook and saw that I wasn't too far from the one thing that Frommer said shouldn't be missed: some stained glass windows at King's College.  I walked the mile over to the college to find out that the college would not be open for another hour, and what was I going to do in this town for an hour?  (Besides it would have cost £5 to be inside from 1:15-2:15 and who knows if I would have been able to take photos?)  So, I bagged it and picked up a delicious chocolate petit-four and headed back to the train station.  When I got back I immediately took off my boots which had been giving me blisters as I trudged back and forth, and then took of my jeans to put on more comfortable bottoms.  Well, I looked at my legs and noticed that they were ridiculously blue, and I thought I had walked too much and my veins were about to explode.  Then I realized it was the first time I had worn my jeans, and it was the dye bleeding.  NOT my insides.  Anyway, did I mention it was raining the whole time I was there?

Oh well!  An experience is an experience!  And now I've done it!  (I don't want you to think that it was complete bust.  It really does have some lovely architecture and could be a dream come true on a day with good weather.)  

Tonight I went on a Jack the Ripper walking tour with some Wash U kiddies.  It was interesting since the tour guide was really funny.  But it was difficult to understand his explanations of theories surrounding

Jack's real identity.   (And they certainly are numerous!)  At the beginning of the tour he warned us to not respond to the "chemically unfortunate" people standing outside pubs who usually make remarks to the tour as it goes by.  Sure enough, as we walked past the pub that the guide said Kate Moss had been linked at the nostril with someone a few years back, some guy slurs to us, "He didn't do it.  He was a lesbian."  Because lesbians don't kill people?  What I did gather from the tour, however, is that Jack the Ripper was mosdef not the guy to meet on a walk home from your prostitution post.  Interesting factoid: the average prostitute was old, puffy faced, and missing a few teeth.  She wore steel toed workmen's boots to deal with difficult customers or competition and would have been in a few fights in her day.  Additionally, sex on the wall was called the "four penny knee trembler."  Cute, right?  Afterwards, Linh (the girl I was supposed to meet in Cambridge) and I went to a pub near our halls and she told me she read that they charge money for attractions in Cambridge because they want to discourage tourists from coming.  It's working!

British Pronunciation for Beginners

1) Schedule=shedjule.  Cristina thinks that this pronunciation sounds both lazy and sexual.

2) Hegemony=hegemony (assuming American would be hejemony)  I don't know why they pronounce it with a "g" sound.  It's ugly.

3) Machismo=muhckeezmo.  Do you think they also pronounce it "Macko Macko Maaaan.  I've got to be a Macko Man"?

4) Process=prOcess (American would be praw-cess)  It's awkward, but not out of line.

5) Herb=Herb (that means the "h" is heard)  I'm okay with this pronunciation as Sister Viviana told us about it in seventh grade, but Laura America seems to find real problem with it.

6) Tube=tyoube (I wouldn't bring this up but I got redirected one day, and I said, "How am I supposed to get to the tube stop?"  And the police officer said, "Well, I can help you get to the tYOUbe stop.  But not the tube stop."  Rude.

7) Taboo=tuh-boo

8) Oedipus=Eedipus

British/American Glossary

1) Jelly=American Jell-O.  

    a) Jam=American jelly

    b) So I think that in "The Night Before Christmas" maybe she meant "his belly jiggled like  bowl full of jam."  Who knows?