6/12/13
I really did have the best intentions. But then I started getting busy.
So, what's been happening to me, you ask?
First and foremost- I went to London on June 6th.
And here's what I've discovered. One day is not nearly enough time to see London. Not nearly enough. So after driving the 2 hours there (oh the traffic! It was terrible! We sat through 5 green lights because the line didn't move at all!) we walked around, and our tour guide pointed out Buckingham Palace, Parliament, the Eye of London, and Westminster Abbey. And you know, it was nice, I took some pictures. Then we went to the Churchill War Rooms. Then I and some of my friends wandered about London, went inside Parliament, and got ice cream. And then we went home. I'm serious. It was crazy short. I felt like I was there for a grand total of five minutes. I discerned from that five minutes that it was a rather large city, with very pretty buildings, a lot of unnecessary red telephone booths, a brownish river, and expensive churches. And on that last note, don't you think churches should be free? Westminster Abbey was 20 pounds, or around 30 dollars. Does Westminster know what I can do with 30 dollars? I could buy eight lattes, fill up a tank of gas, buy a really cute dress (which would last for the next five years), or eat a ton of food. Or I could stand in a church for 30 minutes and stare at some stained glass, and try to take pictures of the stained glass (which would turn out dim and blurry). I mean, ok, it would have been awesome. And I really wanted to see the Poet's Corner (where famous English literary figures are buried- think Dickens, Wordsworth, ect). And I wanted to see the World War One tomb of the Unknown Warrior, You are probably wondering why I didn't just get over it, and pay the thirty dollars. Well, actually, it was closed. I would have gone in. Yes, before I realized that it was closed, I considered trying to convince them that I was seventeen to get an eight pound ticket. But I knew this was wrong. Even though it would have totally worked. It would have been wrong. I was going to go in and pay my 20 pounds and go see the Abbey. But And it was closed.
But Parliament was both open and free. So the group of us, mostly Hillsdale people, went over their and watched a House of Commons debate. The debate didn't seemed to be an issue of great national importance. This I know for two reasons.
1) There were about ten people in the room. Seven of them were more focused on their phones and ipads more than on the speaker. One member might have been asleep, or blinking for quite a long time.
2) The speaker in question was getting quite riled up about the apparent "bumblebee crisis" and the need for government action to save the bumblebees, who apparently are getting sick and dying from farmers' pesticides. There were a lot of statistics going on, and he seemed to take the whole insect destruction thing as an affront to his personal honor. One thing that struck me was his call for more government scientists to research this problem, as right now only seven scientists were devoted to the problem. I guess I don't know a lot about science, but that really seems like plenty to solve this one problem.
I just don't even know.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
The weekend :)
6/4/13
Dear blog
readers
It’s Tuesday. I’m not sure what happened to
this whole, “I’m going to write a detailed, descriptive, and intelligent post
every day.” I think the problem has been a combination of mild laziness and
mild forgetfulness. So, let’s go over my weekend, and Monday.
On Saturday, the OSAP group went to Windsor
Palace. We were leaving at nine, but I got up early to take photos of Christ
Church Meadows and get a book from my library. Christ Church Meadows is a park
open to the public, which is a five minute walk from my house. It’s technically
part of Christ Church College grounds, but you can only see parts of the
buildings from the park. Anyways, it’s not just a dinky little park with two
slides and a swing set. It actually doesn’t have a slide or a swing set. It’s
just a lot of paths that go through meadows and trees and by the Thames River. To
run around the biggest loop is about a 12 minute run for me, if that’s any
indication of its size. From this, I’m guessing it’s about a mile and ½ loop,
but who knows. But the park is absolutely stunning, and has a field full of
cows in the center. Ducks and geese are also a big part of the wildlife, and I’m
keep seeing a deer hanging out with the cows. I’m not sure if the deer is tame
or what, but it’s living the dream. It’s completely safe in the cow field, and
it can eat their food. A lot of people do their homework there (not with the
deer, but in the park), or have picnics when the weather is nice. But I got up
early to take pictures, because when I run there, I always want a picture, but
I’m running so I can’t take any. It was a big life problem. So Saturday fixed my picture dilemma. I also
petted a women’s dog there, and it sat on my foot. It was glorious. After that
I successfully found my book at the library, and then hurried to the bus. The
bus ride was about an hour, and I did a lot of staring out the window. The area
surrounding Oxford is very pastoral, with rolling fields of greens and the
like. Unfortunately, I also felt a little carsick. But I had a quick recovery
once I got off the bus, and we made our way to the castle. The castle was not
exactly what I envisioned. I guess I assumed it would be more chateaux than
castle, more elegant than medieval. But
it was pretty medieval. Knights’ armor hung on many walls, along with a lot of
swords and guns. Don’t get me wrong. The castle was still beautiful. Beautiful, and ready to fight a small war
with its wall displays. After viewing
the castle, Amanda and I walked down around the city. We ate, we shopped, and
spent a lot of time in bookstores. After we all came back, I just worked on my
reading for my upcoming paper.
On Sunday, I went on a run with the
Athletic Club. They were booking it, though, so I didn’t run with the main
group for a very long time. I just kinda turned around after a certain point. After that I spent a large amount of the day in the
Christ Church Park reading, and then came back to do some more reading. It was
super exciting. But a good day.
Monday brought library and tea. And I
ran eight miles instead of the four I intended to do. I got a little lost at
one point, but it was a good run. Well, I actually have to go and finish this
paper which is due tomorrow, but more is to come!
Saturday, June 1, 2013
a stream of consciousness post
5/1/13
I saw boat racing last Saturday. It was on the Thames River close to my house. I had no idea how the racing worked or what was going on, but my friend Amanda and I ate a brownie. It was tasty. If I was on a rowing team, I'd want to be the one yelling, "row...row...row...row...row...row." And just to spicy things up, I'd yell, "row...row...row...banana...row..." and insert other random words into the rowing pattern. It'd be both unexpected and sassy. (Though, there would be limits to this, I couldn't very well say, "row...row...row...row... superfragilisticexpialidocious...row..." because we'd lose the race. Not a good rhythm for speedy rowing.)
I ran eight miles on Sunday with some Athletic club people. It was tiring. But fun. We ran by the Thames River. I worked on my paper.
Monday is drawing a complete blank for me here. I think it rained a lot.... I went running for 25 minutes in the morning... Oh yes! That day I studied in a coffee shop, and had really good peppermint chai. Then I went to the library, and then after that my friend Ashley came and ate dinner with me. We had pasta. She brought French bread and I ate a disproportionate amount of it.
Tuesday it definitely rained a lot, and I went and got tea with my friend Amanda. It was fun. I tried to get a lot of work done. This failed. I was going to go do a workout, but it was raining. And I was hungry. So I ate a lot of food instead.
Wednesday was a day of desperate essay finishing. I didn't leave my room, except to do a brief run. Went to bed at one in the morning.
Thursday I was exhausted from essay writing and got up at 5:30am, but I thought my tutorial went well, and received positive feedback on my first paper. I seriously considered running, but instead ate a lot of food. Was really tired. Then we all went to Plays in the Pub, where we read a play out loud about suffragettes in the 1920s with some Oxford students. We all had roles. I was the male waiter, as I refused all larger roles. They also wanted me to speak in a British accent, but this too I refused. Came home around 11pm, and slept for 12 hours.
Friday was yesterday. And I did a lot of stuff. I got some books from the library. I tried to read them at Starbucks, got hopeless distracted, came home, read some more, ate some dinner, and then went running. And then I just chilled after nine, which was nice.
I'll describe today tomorrow.
Thanks for putting up with this random out-flowing of words.
I saw boat racing last Saturday. It was on the Thames River close to my house. I had no idea how the racing worked or what was going on, but my friend Amanda and I ate a brownie. It was tasty. If I was on a rowing team, I'd want to be the one yelling, "row...row...row...row...row...row." And just to spicy things up, I'd yell, "row...row...row...banana...row..." and insert other random words into the rowing pattern. It'd be both unexpected and sassy. (Though, there would be limits to this, I couldn't very well say, "row...row...row...row... superfragilisticexpialidocious...row..." because we'd lose the race. Not a good rhythm for speedy rowing.)
I ran eight miles on Sunday with some Athletic club people. It was tiring. But fun. We ran by the Thames River. I worked on my paper.
Monday is drawing a complete blank for me here. I think it rained a lot.... I went running for 25 minutes in the morning... Oh yes! That day I studied in a coffee shop, and had really good peppermint chai. Then I went to the library, and then after that my friend Ashley came and ate dinner with me. We had pasta. She brought French bread and I ate a disproportionate amount of it.
Tuesday it definitely rained a lot, and I went and got tea with my friend Amanda. It was fun. I tried to get a lot of work done. This failed. I was going to go do a workout, but it was raining. And I was hungry. So I ate a lot of food instead.
Wednesday was a day of desperate essay finishing. I didn't leave my room, except to do a brief run. Went to bed at one in the morning.
Thursday I was exhausted from essay writing and got up at 5:30am, but I thought my tutorial went well, and received positive feedback on my first paper. I seriously considered running, but instead ate a lot of food. Was really tired. Then we all went to Plays in the Pub, where we read a play out loud about suffragettes in the 1920s with some Oxford students. We all had roles. I was the male waiter, as I refused all larger roles. They also wanted me to speak in a British accent, but this too I refused. Came home around 11pm, and slept for 12 hours.
Friday was yesterday. And I did a lot of stuff. I got some books from the library. I tried to read them at Starbucks, got hopeless distracted, came home, read some more, ate some dinner, and then went running. And then I just chilled after nine, which was nice.
I'll describe today tomorrow.
Thanks for putting up with this random out-flowing of words.
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"
6/1/13
This is an odd summer for my parents. They'll have 23 days of utter quiet in the summertime months, interrupted only by the barking of determined little dogs and the roaring hum of the lawnmower. I don't think they've ever had a summer quite like it. The last summer without the near constant presence of children (or teenagers) was in 1991. 1991. Sure, they got rid of us for 20 glorious days in 2008, but then we both came back for the rest of the summer. This year, they'll just have me. And I'm much less noisy. And no longer a teenager.
Its really an odd summer for me as well. I feel a little stretched out by all my traveling. Not only physical traveling to live in a city thousands of miles away from home, but a sort of time travel. The medieval architecture here is almost overwhelming at points, and I look around at the stained glass and Gothic spires, and almost feel a need to introduce my alien presence.
"Why hello, building from the 14th century, pleased to meet you." The buildings replies are normally quite stoic. I get a brief feeling that monks are watching me.
But this feeling doesn't last for long, as I'm always jolted out of it by the bustling presence of Oxford itself. A tourist asks for directions, a motorcycle zooms by, a tour guide speaks loudly, a street performer sings looking for change. And I'm surrounded by tourists, students, and a seemingly endless swarm of people that are undoubtedly in the 21st century. Quite honestly, the hoards of people are the biggest shock in coming here.
So then, I read. I read about Britain in years of 1914-1918, and I can almost see those Brits walking about Oxford, albeit a much slower paced Oxford. Men in academic dress, small motorcars occasionally passing, and the whistle of a train in the distance. A sign hangs asking, "Daddy, what did YOU do in the Great War?" The sign is a bit wasted here. Enlistment rates were good at Oxford, and most students instantly became officers, experienced or not. (It was said that the life of football, ruby, and rowing had prepared the young elite men perfectly for war. That kicking around a football ball could be transferred to the battlefield, and indeed, one officer tried to kick a football to the German trenches to inspire his troops. He was killed instantly. The football in question is in the Imperial War Museum. I'm not quite sure whether to feel anger or pity at the young officer's stupidly brave and entirely unnecessary last kick.) Unfortunately for them, officers had the highest death rate. It gives me pause to remember how many died, and how that world changed so drastically. Its quite sad, even for someone as far removed as me.But I don't think we can ever be removed from human suffering. Its something we all know to varying degrees, and sympathy seems to be an involuntary reaction to the suffering of others, whether it be a crisis occurring ten years ago or two thousand years ago. Its when we don't feel sympathy that something has gone wrong.
At this point, perhaps I should try to escape my musings and actually try to tell you about my week. Lets see. I did a lot of writing and reading. I know. Super interesting to the outside observer. Perhaps instead of going in a day by day scenario, I'll just give you a stream of consciousness post.
This is an odd summer for my parents. They'll have 23 days of utter quiet in the summertime months, interrupted only by the barking of determined little dogs and the roaring hum of the lawnmower. I don't think they've ever had a summer quite like it. The last summer without the near constant presence of children (or teenagers) was in 1991. 1991. Sure, they got rid of us for 20 glorious days in 2008, but then we both came back for the rest of the summer. This year, they'll just have me. And I'm much less noisy. And no longer a teenager.
Its really an odd summer for me as well. I feel a little stretched out by all my traveling. Not only physical traveling to live in a city thousands of miles away from home, but a sort of time travel. The medieval architecture here is almost overwhelming at points, and I look around at the stained glass and Gothic spires, and almost feel a need to introduce my alien presence.
"Why hello, building from the 14th century, pleased to meet you." The buildings replies are normally quite stoic. I get a brief feeling that monks are watching me.
But this feeling doesn't last for long, as I'm always jolted out of it by the bustling presence of Oxford itself. A tourist asks for directions, a motorcycle zooms by, a tour guide speaks loudly, a street performer sings looking for change. And I'm surrounded by tourists, students, and a seemingly endless swarm of people that are undoubtedly in the 21st century. Quite honestly, the hoards of people are the biggest shock in coming here.
So then, I read. I read about Britain in years of 1914-1918, and I can almost see those Brits walking about Oxford, albeit a much slower paced Oxford. Men in academic dress, small motorcars occasionally passing, and the whistle of a train in the distance. A sign hangs asking, "Daddy, what did YOU do in the Great War?" The sign is a bit wasted here. Enlistment rates were good at Oxford, and most students instantly became officers, experienced or not. (It was said that the life of football, ruby, and rowing had prepared the young elite men perfectly for war. That kicking around a football ball could be transferred to the battlefield, and indeed, one officer tried to kick a football to the German trenches to inspire his troops. He was killed instantly. The football in question is in the Imperial War Museum. I'm not quite sure whether to feel anger or pity at the young officer's stupidly brave and entirely unnecessary last kick.) Unfortunately for them, officers had the highest death rate. It gives me pause to remember how many died, and how that world changed so drastically. Its quite sad, even for someone as far removed as me.But I don't think we can ever be removed from human suffering. Its something we all know to varying degrees, and sympathy seems to be an involuntary reaction to the suffering of others, whether it be a crisis occurring ten years ago or two thousand years ago. Its when we don't feel sympathy that something has gone wrong.
At this point, perhaps I should try to escape my musings and actually try to tell you about my week. Lets see. I did a lot of writing and reading. I know. Super interesting to the outside observer. Perhaps instead of going in a day by day scenario, I'll just give you a stream of consciousness post.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Alive and Kicking
I want to post something just so
everyone knows I’m alive and kicking over here. Well, alive and reading might
be a more accurate phrase. I actually don’t kick things that often. I don’t
play soccer and I fume rather than lash out when angered. Thus, kicking is
rarely a part of my life. But reading, on the other hand, is what I’ve mainly
been doing, despite some temptations to watch Netflix (which, to my deep chagrin,
I’ve totally succumbed to). Tomorrow I have an essay to conquer, and I hope I
will inform you about my previous past couple days in the rain.
In other news, I’m thinking about “defriending”
people on Facebook who annoy me, but I’m slightly afraid they will notice and
think I am mean. I’m also been thinking about the legitimacy of conscientious
objectors during wartime, wartime tales of Belgium atrocity, and about the role
of social pressure on ideas of duty and patriotism. And about how I’m quite
grateful there is no major war occurring right now, as I know too many
young men that I don’t wish to die, or to be put in harm’s way at all, or to
get military style haircuts.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Running, Happiness, and Competition
5/26/13
I have no extraordinary skills, no prize-winning talents or hidden abilities. My intelligence, looks, or social skills do not seem to distinguish me particularly from many of my college peers. I'm smarter than some, but others are certainly smarter than me. Most people seem to believe that life is part of a competition, a competition to get the best grades, get the most friends, get the best job. If you fail, certainly you'll be left behind in a world that doesn't care about you, drowning in an abyss due to your inability to become outstanding amongst the masses.
The thing is, I don't really care about competition. Well, that is, not anymore. For a long time, I care very deeply about competition. It was a bit unhealthy really. I had to set the curve in all of my history classes. I had to put in the most consistent training for running. I had to make varsity. Gradually, though, I saw the price of my competition driven life. It was happiness and self-worth dependent on something I only had partial control over. You can't give yourself more natural intelligence nor can you suddenly acquire running talent. You can of course, expand your God given gifts with tough work and perseverance. But there comes a point where the tough work is drudgery and the perseverance is unrelenting stress. I've reached that point before, and to be honest I find myself on the edge of the line between work ethic and insanity often. But I try to remind myself about life. Life is fleeting, and I could die tomorrow. Zach often just tells me to relax, and he's often brought me back to the realization that life should be lived with happiness in mind. Not of course the fleeting happiness of eating vanilla ice cream (which is delicious) or watching a lot of episodes of the Vampire Diaries (which is a really entertaining show). Though we shouldn't lack appreciation for these small bits of daily happiness, we long for something more lasting- we find true joy in helping others, in friendship, in love, in family. From my somewhat limited understanding of human life , it seems to me that these loves are what we reflect on as we lay dying. We don't think, "Ah, you know I'm really proud of that one trophy I got." I guess this is all pretty obvious. But its really hard to remember sometimes.
I guess what promoted this quasi philosophical blog post is running. I ran eight miles today. It was happy, and with very step I felt more alive and more myself. Running is a strange sort of hobby, because it brings both instant happiness, and a more lasting happiness that comes in the quiet moments of self-reflection that running brings. I used to be very focused on personal records, competing with teammates, and getting to point where I could finally stop being ashamed of my times. While there certainly isn't anything wrong with wanting to improve running times, it becomes a problem when your best is only good if others think its good. I had numerous 800 prs last year, and I was more in shape than I had ever been in my life. But every race just made me hate myself, and deride the worth of my running. It wasn't as fast as them, wasn't considered fast, and all my effort was for nothing. I was so wrapped up in a competition I forced on myself that I forgot running was fun and brought happiness without the benefit of a fast pr. Today I remember that running is fun, and nothing can change that- even if I run slowly, and stop to inspect a bunch of garden flowers. Which I totally did.
I have no extraordinary skills, no prize-winning talents or hidden abilities. My intelligence, looks, or social skills do not seem to distinguish me particularly from many of my college peers. I'm smarter than some, but others are certainly smarter than me. Most people seem to believe that life is part of a competition, a competition to get the best grades, get the most friends, get the best job. If you fail, certainly you'll be left behind in a world that doesn't care about you, drowning in an abyss due to your inability to become outstanding amongst the masses.
The thing is, I don't really care about competition. Well, that is, not anymore. For a long time, I care very deeply about competition. It was a bit unhealthy really. I had to set the curve in all of my history classes. I had to put in the most consistent training for running. I had to make varsity. Gradually, though, I saw the price of my competition driven life. It was happiness and self-worth dependent on something I only had partial control over. You can't give yourself more natural intelligence nor can you suddenly acquire running talent. You can of course, expand your God given gifts with tough work and perseverance. But there comes a point where the tough work is drudgery and the perseverance is unrelenting stress. I've reached that point before, and to be honest I find myself on the edge of the line between work ethic and insanity often. But I try to remind myself about life. Life is fleeting, and I could die tomorrow. Zach often just tells me to relax, and he's often brought me back to the realization that life should be lived with happiness in mind. Not of course the fleeting happiness of eating vanilla ice cream (which is delicious) or watching a lot of episodes of the Vampire Diaries (which is a really entertaining show). Though we shouldn't lack appreciation for these small bits of daily happiness, we long for something more lasting- we find true joy in helping others, in friendship, in love, in family. From my somewhat limited understanding of human life , it seems to me that these loves are what we reflect on as we lay dying. We don't think, "Ah, you know I'm really proud of that one trophy I got." I guess this is all pretty obvious. But its really hard to remember sometimes.
I guess what promoted this quasi philosophical blog post is running. I ran eight miles today. It was happy, and with very step I felt more alive and more myself. Running is a strange sort of hobby, because it brings both instant happiness, and a more lasting happiness that comes in the quiet moments of self-reflection that running brings. I used to be very focused on personal records, competing with teammates, and getting to point where I could finally stop being ashamed of my times. While there certainly isn't anything wrong with wanting to improve running times, it becomes a problem when your best is only good if others think its good. I had numerous 800 prs last year, and I was more in shape than I had ever been in my life. But every race just made me hate myself, and deride the worth of my running. It wasn't as fast as them, wasn't considered fast, and all my effort was for nothing. I was so wrapped up in a competition I forced on myself that I forgot running was fun and brought happiness without the benefit of a fast pr. Today I remember that running is fun, and nothing can change that- even if I run slowly, and stop to inspect a bunch of garden flowers. Which I totally did.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
My First Tutorial, and assorted other activites
5/25/13
Good morning! Yesterday was wet, windy, and generally nasty outside. I wore two coats, with my rain jacket tucked inside my wool jacket. I don't know if it is the contrast of warm to cold weather, but since in England I've become increasingly sensitive and angered by cold weather, even by those 40 degree days I wouldn't even notice in the States. Friday was a generally good day. I started it off by going out to breakfast with some of the Oxford track girls, who mostly discussed their recent "match" against Cambridge. (It was apparently a slaughter, and not in Oxford's favor. Also many of the girls got suck in Cambridge because the bus left without them, and they had to take a taxi. To Oxford from Cambridge. Apparently the Athletic club is paying that bill.) I felt a little awkward during the conversation but I think I managed not to seem too weird during it. At least they were discussing a topic I understood, despite heavy British accents. After that I worked on my paper, ventured out into the rain, and went to my tutorial. My tutorial went well, I suppose. I wasn't sure what to expect but I felt mostly prepared. Dr. Neill asked me to explain my argument to him, and then we discussed the pros and cons of the counter arguments. The paper, if you are interested, pondered the question of how the balance of power in Europe did or did not contribute to the outbreak of the first world war. Afterwards, I went home and ate a pizza. (It was a small pizza, but I did eat the whole thing by myself.) After chilling about with my housemates for a while, I went to hangout with Amanda, a girl I had just met the day before and seemed exceptionally nice. She lives just down the street and is also part of the OSAP program. After talking to her and her housemate Anne, I felt a familiar sort of vibe in the room. And I knew. I found myself interrupting the conversation suddenly. "Sorry for this interruption, but I just have to ask, if you don't mind. Are you two home-schooled?" They looked a little surprised and then smirked. "Yeah, we were." I'm starting to think now that my family attracts homeschoolers to our presence. If you think about it, only 3% of people are home-schooled. But my sister and I count at least four homeschoolers among our close friends, a group hardly more than 35 people. That's four times the national average. So I talked to Amanda for two hours, and then went back to my house to find a bit of a mess. You see, my roommates got roaring drunk for Vince's birthday. To their credit though they are respectful drunks, and were safely (and quietly) in bed by 1:30. As long as they stay quiet past a certain hour, I'm totally fine with it. I don't particularly want to join them ( I believe in a more moderate approach to drinking for myself, specially amongst people I just met), and sort of hope it isn't a regular occurrence. Anyhow, today I got up and did a workout with the club. I talked to the coach as well, and we decided I should only do one or two workouts a week of low intensity as I build my base. It seems smart to me. Tomorrow is a long run, and hopefully I won't get lost if the group leaves me behind. I'm kinda regretting not running more before I came to Oxford. After that, I took a shower at the boys house next door (our shower doesn't work yet (they are trying to fix it) and I was getting tired of taking baths) and then walked over with my housemates to see the rowing event on the Thames. It was super crowded but cool to see. Anyways, the rest of the day I've been doing reading and the like, and I am about to go to bed. Night y'all.
Good morning! Yesterday was wet, windy, and generally nasty outside. I wore two coats, with my rain jacket tucked inside my wool jacket. I don't know if it is the contrast of warm to cold weather, but since in England I've become increasingly sensitive and angered by cold weather, even by those 40 degree days I wouldn't even notice in the States. Friday was a generally good day. I started it off by going out to breakfast with some of the Oxford track girls, who mostly discussed their recent "match" against Cambridge. (It was apparently a slaughter, and not in Oxford's favor. Also many of the girls got suck in Cambridge because the bus left without them, and they had to take a taxi. To Oxford from Cambridge. Apparently the Athletic club is paying that bill.) I felt a little awkward during the conversation but I think I managed not to seem too weird during it. At least they were discussing a topic I understood, despite heavy British accents. After that I worked on my paper, ventured out into the rain, and went to my tutorial. My tutorial went well, I suppose. I wasn't sure what to expect but I felt mostly prepared. Dr. Neill asked me to explain my argument to him, and then we discussed the pros and cons of the counter arguments. The paper, if you are interested, pondered the question of how the balance of power in Europe did or did not contribute to the outbreak of the first world war. Afterwards, I went home and ate a pizza. (It was a small pizza, but I did eat the whole thing by myself.) After chilling about with my housemates for a while, I went to hangout with Amanda, a girl I had just met the day before and seemed exceptionally nice. She lives just down the street and is also part of the OSAP program. After talking to her and her housemate Anne, I felt a familiar sort of vibe in the room. And I knew. I found myself interrupting the conversation suddenly. "Sorry for this interruption, but I just have to ask, if you don't mind. Are you two home-schooled?" They looked a little surprised and then smirked. "Yeah, we were." I'm starting to think now that my family attracts homeschoolers to our presence. If you think about it, only 3% of people are home-schooled. But my sister and I count at least four homeschoolers among our close friends, a group hardly more than 35 people. That's four times the national average. So I talked to Amanda for two hours, and then went back to my house to find a bit of a mess. You see, my roommates got roaring drunk for Vince's birthday. To their credit though they are respectful drunks, and were safely (and quietly) in bed by 1:30. As long as they stay quiet past a certain hour, I'm totally fine with it. I don't particularly want to join them ( I believe in a more moderate approach to drinking for myself, specially amongst people I just met), and sort of hope it isn't a regular occurrence. Anyhow, today I got up and did a workout with the club. I talked to the coach as well, and we decided I should only do one or two workouts a week of low intensity as I build my base. It seems smart to me. Tomorrow is a long run, and hopefully I won't get lost if the group leaves me behind. I'm kinda regretting not running more before I came to Oxford. After that, I took a shower at the boys house next door (our shower doesn't work yet (they are trying to fix it) and I was getting tired of taking baths) and then walked over with my housemates to see the rowing event on the Thames. It was super crowded but cool to see. Anyways, the rest of the day I've been doing reading and the like, and I am about to go to bed. Night y'all.
Friday, May 24, 2013
The Last Two Days!
5/24/13
As I write this, I'm cooking some pasta. I also bought a pineapple to eat, which I already cut up for dinner. I'm just really excited about the pineapple. Today I have my first tutorial meeting and my first essay due. Obviously since I'm writing this instead of frantically writing my essay, everything is going a lot better than expected. Let's start with some random facts about England.
1) They don't refrigerate their eggs. The eggs are just in a normal grocery aisle, sitting on the shelf, oblivious to the fact that they are supposed to be in the refrigerated section.
2) The water works in mysterious ways. There are two faucets on every sinks. One faucets lets out scalding hot water that could quite possibly burn you at any second. The second faucets lets out icy cold water. How do you wash you hands? In fear.... I guess to be fair, I think you are suppose to plug up the sink, and allow the two temperature waters to mix together in the bottom in order to wash your hands.
3) Instead of saying "Track Club", the Brits say "Athletics Club."
And that concludes the random facts of the day. Well, very quickly I'll tell you about my Wednesday and Thursday. My Wednesday was good! After writing, trying not to fall asleep, and general mental chaos in the library, the highlight of my day was going to a meet with the orienteering club. For orienteering, you are given a map of a forest and a compass. With these tools, you have to locate several points in a particular order. The fastest finisher wins. Its essentially the same as trail running if you get very lost. Here's the tricky part though. While there are trails through the forest, the points you need to locate can be completely off a trail. So really, you have look at the topography of the map and the compass to figure out where the marker is suppose to be in the middle of the woods. It can be extremely difficult. My first point I found in about 10 minutes, though I did run into a tree (I was trying to catch myself from falling down this very steep hill, but I caught myself with a tree to the face.) My second point took me 45 minutes to find, mostly because I couldn't figure out where I was on the map, so I decided to run around randomly until I discovered it. (Eventually, a little old lady competitor helped me. No shame in that. Later I was told the "chicken with your head chopped off" approach of running around randomly is about the worst thing you can do. Good to know.) The third one I never really found, so I just finished. Did I get a time? No. It was quite odd for a race. Maybe it was just because I was so slow, but there wasn't a finish line really nor was anyone keeping time. You just kinda approached the group that had finished, and everyone was like,"nice job, did you have fun?" Honestly though, I wasn't surprised after the "start." The organizer of the race just asked us when we had gathered, "Is everyone ready? Ok, good." Then he waved his hand in the general direction of the forest. "Alright, go head." And that's how the raced started. I was trying to get my sweater off when it happened. Anyways, the club was all really nice. It was also surprisingly male dominated. (8:2 ratio of guys:girls). I got back around 9:30 to my house, ate a couple rolls and some cerel, and called it a night.
The next day the OSAP group went to Stratford on a bus, and we had a walking tour when we got there about noon. But it was FREEZING! I was wearing my wool coat and I swear it felt like a gusty Michigan winter out there. It just wasn't pleasant at all to be outside, especially with the random downpours. So after the walking tour, a couple of my friends from OSAP (Alex, Mia, Jessica, Frances, and David) went out to a pub and ate a two hour lunch. It was nice and warm. Then we wandered around a bit, and then went to a butterfly garden that Frances wanted to see. We stayed in the gift shop for like an hour as she went in, and then we went back to a pub for drinks. I didn't realize until after that we never did manage to eat any dinner that day. Anyways, after a glass or two of wine (or beer, as some others got), we headed to see a Shakespeare play As You Like It. I thought it was really well done, surprisingly musical, and had a very unexpected hipster vibe. (Like literally, most of the characters dressed like flower children or hipsters). After the play, we took the bus back, and I finally got back to my house around 1am. Long but good day.
As I write this, I'm cooking some pasta. I also bought a pineapple to eat, which I already cut up for dinner. I'm just really excited about the pineapple. Today I have my first tutorial meeting and my first essay due. Obviously since I'm writing this instead of frantically writing my essay, everything is going a lot better than expected. Let's start with some random facts about England.
1) They don't refrigerate their eggs. The eggs are just in a normal grocery aisle, sitting on the shelf, oblivious to the fact that they are supposed to be in the refrigerated section.
2) The water works in mysterious ways. There are two faucets on every sinks. One faucets lets out scalding hot water that could quite possibly burn you at any second. The second faucets lets out icy cold water. How do you wash you hands? In fear.... I guess to be fair, I think you are suppose to plug up the sink, and allow the two temperature waters to mix together in the bottom in order to wash your hands.
3) Instead of saying "Track Club", the Brits say "Athletics Club."
And that concludes the random facts of the day. Well, very quickly I'll tell you about my Wednesday and Thursday. My Wednesday was good! After writing, trying not to fall asleep, and general mental chaos in the library, the highlight of my day was going to a meet with the orienteering club. For orienteering, you are given a map of a forest and a compass. With these tools, you have to locate several points in a particular order. The fastest finisher wins. Its essentially the same as trail running if you get very lost. Here's the tricky part though. While there are trails through the forest, the points you need to locate can be completely off a trail. So really, you have look at the topography of the map and the compass to figure out where the marker is suppose to be in the middle of the woods. It can be extremely difficult. My first point I found in about 10 minutes, though I did run into a tree (I was trying to catch myself from falling down this very steep hill, but I caught myself with a tree to the face.) My second point took me 45 minutes to find, mostly because I couldn't figure out where I was on the map, so I decided to run around randomly until I discovered it. (Eventually, a little old lady competitor helped me. No shame in that. Later I was told the "chicken with your head chopped off" approach of running around randomly is about the worst thing you can do. Good to know.) The third one I never really found, so I just finished. Did I get a time? No. It was quite odd for a race. Maybe it was just because I was so slow, but there wasn't a finish line really nor was anyone keeping time. You just kinda approached the group that had finished, and everyone was like,"nice job, did you have fun?" Honestly though, I wasn't surprised after the "start." The organizer of the race just asked us when we had gathered, "Is everyone ready? Ok, good." Then he waved his hand in the general direction of the forest. "Alright, go head." And that's how the raced started. I was trying to get my sweater off when it happened. Anyways, the club was all really nice. It was also surprisingly male dominated. (8:2 ratio of guys:girls). I got back around 9:30 to my house, ate a couple rolls and some cerel, and called it a night.
The next day the OSAP group went to Stratford on a bus, and we had a walking tour when we got there about noon. But it was FREEZING! I was wearing my wool coat and I swear it felt like a gusty Michigan winter out there. It just wasn't pleasant at all to be outside, especially with the random downpours. So after the walking tour, a couple of my friends from OSAP (Alex, Mia, Jessica, Frances, and David) went out to a pub and ate a two hour lunch. It was nice and warm. Then we wandered around a bit, and then went to a butterfly garden that Frances wanted to see. We stayed in the gift shop for like an hour as she went in, and then we went back to a pub for drinks. I didn't realize until after that we never did manage to eat any dinner that day. Anyways, after a glass or two of wine (or beer, as some others got), we headed to see a Shakespeare play As You Like It. I thought it was really well done, surprisingly musical, and had a very unexpected hipster vibe. (Like literally, most of the characters dressed like flower children or hipsters). After the play, we took the bus back, and I finally got back to my house around 1am. Long but good day.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Track Club, A Giant Cookie, and My Essay
5/21/13
Well, today was an eventful day. I got up at 8:30, rather painfully. My back hurt from dragging that suitcase, but I got eight full hours of sleep so I forced myself to get up. By the time I got to the library, it was 10am. I got some terribly slow essay writing done (and that's honestly what I should be doing right now). The essay is just a lot harder to write than I'm used to because all my resources aren't in the same places. I think I've figured out how to plan a little better for next time, but right now all this library hopping is killing me. I start writing something, but want to verify my facts...but the book I need is always in the other library. Its really a downer. I have 1200 out of a 2000 words, but I'm still quite worried. Its a very very rough draft. My essay is just a monster! A monster that's going to eat me for lunch. Speaking of lunch... For lunch today, I wandered around New College, finally buying myself a giant chocolate chip cookie, and eating my packed lunch in the garden. It was lovely. I'll have to coordinate eating lunch with my fellow OSAP members, or eventually a Brit or two, but today was fine just as it was. After lunch... I returned to the library, where I fought off drowsy with little success and extreme distractedness until 4:45. Then I started to make serious progress until I had to head to track club, about 30 minutes later. Track club was excellent. To be honest, I only realized I did a workout out on the Roger Barrister Track about 30 minutes ago, and I wish some of my more talented friends could have been in my shoes, as I lack the proper appreciation (and skills!). Anyways, we all met up and chatted a bit. I found a fellow newbie (who had never gone to a track session before) who was into ultra marathons and sad that the track workout would make her sprint. Anyhow, we did some skips, some familiar and some completely bizarre, and then did striders. Then we were on the track and started the workout. I was a bit concerned about this, as I didn't warm up at all and was wearing shorts (it was relatively cool out). So I just went moderately for the first rep (decreasing reps of 20 seconds, starting at 3:40 minutes, with two minute rests). It felt fine for being completely and hopelessly out of shape. I only did four reps of the workout though (I figured my body had enough) and then a light cool down. I was one of the slower girls, but not the slowest, and doing my reps at seven minute pace was just fine by me. So it was fun, no-pressure sort of situation. Do I have a race tomorrow that I should have gone easy for today? Yes. But whatever. I'm a free-agent. I liked it a lot, and the next session I can make is on Saturday. Anyhow, I got back at 7:50pm, chatted and ate with my new housemates and got up stairs around 9:30, worked a little on my essay. Now I'm going to bed. Tired.
Well, today was an eventful day. I got up at 8:30, rather painfully. My back hurt from dragging that suitcase, but I got eight full hours of sleep so I forced myself to get up. By the time I got to the library, it was 10am. I got some terribly slow essay writing done (and that's honestly what I should be doing right now). The essay is just a lot harder to write than I'm used to because all my resources aren't in the same places. I think I've figured out how to plan a little better for next time, but right now all this library hopping is killing me. I start writing something, but want to verify my facts...but the book I need is always in the other library. Its really a downer. I have 1200 out of a 2000 words, but I'm still quite worried. Its a very very rough draft. My essay is just a monster! A monster that's going to eat me for lunch. Speaking of lunch... For lunch today, I wandered around New College, finally buying myself a giant chocolate chip cookie, and eating my packed lunch in the garden. It was lovely. I'll have to coordinate eating lunch with my fellow OSAP members, or eventually a Brit or two, but today was fine just as it was. After lunch... I returned to the library, where I fought off drowsy with little success and extreme distractedness until 4:45. Then I started to make serious progress until I had to head to track club, about 30 minutes later. Track club was excellent. To be honest, I only realized I did a workout out on the Roger Barrister Track about 30 minutes ago, and I wish some of my more talented friends could have been in my shoes, as I lack the proper appreciation (and skills!). Anyways, we all met up and chatted a bit. I found a fellow newbie (who had never gone to a track session before) who was into ultra marathons and sad that the track workout would make her sprint. Anyhow, we did some skips, some familiar and some completely bizarre, and then did striders. Then we were on the track and started the workout. I was a bit concerned about this, as I didn't warm up at all and was wearing shorts (it was relatively cool out). So I just went moderately for the first rep (decreasing reps of 20 seconds, starting at 3:40 minutes, with two minute rests). It felt fine for being completely and hopelessly out of shape. I only did four reps of the workout though (I figured my body had enough) and then a light cool down. I was one of the slower girls, but not the slowest, and doing my reps at seven minute pace was just fine by me. So it was fun, no-pressure sort of situation. Do I have a race tomorrow that I should have gone easy for today? Yes. But whatever. I'm a free-agent. I liked it a lot, and the next session I can make is on Saturday. Anyhow, I got back at 7:50pm, chatted and ate with my new housemates and got up stairs around 9:30, worked a little on my essay. Now I'm going to bed. Tired.
Monday, May 20, 2013
It's a Monday.
5/20/13
I discovered that my mom is still reading my blog. You can always count on mothers. Thank you Mom :)
Well, today was a day of emotional turmoil.
8:30 am- I got up at 8:30, after meaning to get up at 7:30 to run. Oops. "No matter!" My inner dialogue proclaimed. "The day is still young, I have plenty of time to move into my new housing."
10:00am- "My load of laundry in the washer is almost done. Packing is almost done. This is going so smoothly!" I thought peacefully, as I checked my room for the final items
12:15pm- "What in the world is the matter with this dryer! How can my clothes still be wet? How!?" I make desperate eye contact with the strange European dryer. It doesn't reply.
12:22pm- I open the dryer cautiously, and feel my clothes. Still wet. I glare at the dryer. "You evil evil dryer."
12:30pm- "It's a lovely day out, I'm going to go for a walk!" I wander into a church and admire the architecture.
12:45pm- "Dryer! I knew you could do it! Thank you little dryer! See, it wasn't so bad!" I hug my clothes. But not really. But almost.
1:00pm- I look at the three flights of stairs down to the main floor of my house. I look at my suitcase. I sigh.
1:20pm- "How can literally no one know how to get to Thames Street on a bus! Seriously! I should have googled it before I left...." I look around. "Screw it. I'll just walk."
1:45pm- "I need a map."
1:47pm- "So I was going in the wrong direction for the past ten minutes. Huh."
2:10pm- "My arms! My legs! My back!"
2:15pm- "Ok, I made it. Time to nab the best room."
3:30pm- "HUGE SPIDER HUGE SPIDER HUGE SPIDER!!" Promptly burst into tears. Seriously consider moving all my stuff into a different room.
3:35pm- Vacuum up the spider.
3:45pm- Finish my intense search of the room for any additional spiders. "Where are you hiding. I will find you."
3:50pm- "I should eat lunch now."
4:00pm- Watch Vampires Diaries as a stress relief. "Why did you do that Damon? Why?"
4:40pm- Arrive at library.
7:30pm- Get bored at library, walk to old house (St. Giles) for a extra bed-sheet.
8:05pm- Walk down a creepy alley, walk very quickly away. Mental note: "Don't go down there!"
8:10pm- Arrive back at Thames St. house , meet a new housemate Austin.
9:10pm- Talk to Zach, and Mom.
11:00pm- Work on paper and blog :)
I discovered that my mom is still reading my blog. You can always count on mothers. Thank you Mom :)
Well, today was a day of emotional turmoil.
8:30 am- I got up at 8:30, after meaning to get up at 7:30 to run. Oops. "No matter!" My inner dialogue proclaimed. "The day is still young, I have plenty of time to move into my new housing."
10:00am- "My load of laundry in the washer is almost done. Packing is almost done. This is going so smoothly!" I thought peacefully, as I checked my room for the final items
12:15pm- "What in the world is the matter with this dryer! How can my clothes still be wet? How!?" I make desperate eye contact with the strange European dryer. It doesn't reply.
12:22pm- I open the dryer cautiously, and feel my clothes. Still wet. I glare at the dryer. "You evil evil dryer."
12:30pm- "It's a lovely day out, I'm going to go for a walk!" I wander into a church and admire the architecture.
12:45pm- "Dryer! I knew you could do it! Thank you little dryer! See, it wasn't so bad!" I hug my clothes. But not really. But almost.
1:00pm- I look at the three flights of stairs down to the main floor of my house. I look at my suitcase. I sigh.
1:20pm- "How can literally no one know how to get to Thames Street on a bus! Seriously! I should have googled it before I left...." I look around. "Screw it. I'll just walk."
1:45pm- "I need a map."
1:47pm- "So I was going in the wrong direction for the past ten minutes. Huh."
2:10pm- "My arms! My legs! My back!"
2:15pm- "Ok, I made it. Time to nab the best room."
3:30pm- "HUGE SPIDER HUGE SPIDER HUGE SPIDER!!" Promptly burst into tears. Seriously consider moving all my stuff into a different room.
3:35pm- Vacuum up the spider.
3:45pm- Finish my intense search of the room for any additional spiders. "Where are you hiding. I will find you."
3:50pm- "I should eat lunch now."
4:00pm- Watch Vampires Diaries as a stress relief. "Why did you do that Damon? Why?"
4:40pm- Arrive at library.
7:30pm- Get bored at library, walk to old house (St. Giles) for a extra bed-sheet.
8:05pm- Walk down a creepy alley, walk very quickly away. Mental note: "Don't go down there!"
8:10pm- Arrive back at Thames St. house , meet a new housemate Austin.
9:10pm- Talk to Zach, and Mom.
11:00pm- Work on paper and blog :)
Saturday, May 18, 2013
What I forgot to mention :)
5/18/13
Scanning my old posts I realized that I never updated you on how my track adventure went! So yesterday, I went down to the Roger Barrister track( you know where the four minute mile was broken) trying to locate the track club. Never really found the club... but did find out how to contact the club! And I emailed them, and they are doing a track workout on Tuesday. I really have no details at all, but I'll show up and see what happens. I'm also going on an adventure with the orienteering club, which I'm oddly excited about. You go and start at some random point A in a park, and have to get to point B using only a map. Its like a race with no directions! I just hope that they come looking for you after a certain time period after you get lost... But its going to be an adventure I'm excited to meet some British people this upcoming week. I'm a little nervous about my new apartment, because all my other roommates are from the same college and I hope it's not really clicky or really loud.
Scanning my old posts I realized that I never updated you on how my track adventure went! So yesterday, I went down to the Roger Barrister track( you know where the four minute mile was broken) trying to locate the track club. Never really found the club... but did find out how to contact the club! And I emailed them, and they are doing a track workout on Tuesday. I really have no details at all, but I'll show up and see what happens. I'm also going on an adventure with the orienteering club, which I'm oddly excited about. You go and start at some random point A in a park, and have to get to point B using only a map. Its like a race with no directions! I just hope that they come looking for you after a certain time period after you get lost... But its going to be an adventure I'm excited to meet some British people this upcoming week. I'm a little nervous about my new apartment, because all my other roommates are from the same college and I hope it's not really clicky or really loud.
Thinking about Social Awkwardness
5/18/13
I'm invariably awkward around people. Sometimes it concerns me, to be honest. And perhaps that's the source of the awkwardness. I guess its the universal desire for acceptance that's to blame. If I'm talking to a person I've known for years, someone I feel super comfortable with, the words just flow out. I'm not making excuses for who I am, I'm not analyzing your every glance for possible dissatisfaction, I'm just chatting. And it's wonderful. But if I don't know you as well, or if I feel that you've judged negatively in the past, I can barely get the words out. They come in a waterfall of frantic phrases, poorly thought-out, or in sporadic bursts of meaningless words. Then I just shut up, as if I remain silent for a while, you'll have forgotten what I've said. I realized this year that the reason is because I'm afraid. Rationally, lying in my bed at night, I don't particularly care what anyone thinks about me. I know that I'm trying my best to be a good, kind person- and that I'm not much worse (or much better) than anybody else. That I don't deserve rejection. But I guess beneath that there is the irrational fear of my heart. What if I was made in such a fundamentally strange way that only a few people will ever understand what I'm talking about? And what if everyone who truly understands me, and loves me, dies in a tragic bus accident? Then I'll have to be alone, sputtering my way through conversations for the rest of my life, only talking to my fat grumpy cat Cheesepuff (and I don't even like cats) and publishing a terrible books about rainbows as I grow increasingly spastic and lumpy.
You, my reader, are probably very concerned about me right now. If you aren't, that's ok. But I just want to let you know that I had a perfectly good day today, and nothing particularly awkward happened. I'm sitting content in my room, after eating some chips and watching a Harry Potter movie in Oxford with a group of fellow study abroad students. I guess its just being in a different place, physically removed from all your former connections, brings out both your strengths and weaknesses. I am very good at giving tourists directions to random places in a city I've only lived in for five days. (And on that note, I'm never living in city with tourism..) I'm bad at forming deep connections (or even modest connections) quickly or without a large amount of social awkwardness. I think this is the reason I avoid large social events like the plague. Everyone else : "Do you want to come to this really cool party on a boat that goes down the Thames in London?" Me: "Oh, thank you so much for inviting me, but I think I'll pass. Next time for sure!" Me (in my head): "Why is that fun? You want me to go all the way to London with you people so I can feel incredibly self-conscious for hours and then end up taking care of drunk people?" (And my inner voice was right about the latter... apparently the some of them do not remember the Friday night boat party. Perhaps it still would have been fun. I really don't know though.) I don't think I'd go to any social event at all (aka a gathering with more than 3 people I know very well) without Kathleen's influence. I think this is why God blessed me with such an amazingly sociable sister. Unlike a lot of sisters I've heard of, she has consistently and without fail included me in any social group she's been a part of. I think this is why I can communicate at all with normal people. This is also how I've become connected with a wonderful group of people, a few of which I consider lifetime friends.
Anyhow, if you are still reading this little sappy except about my sensitive soul, I could tell you about what I actually did today. I went to New College, ate some lunch, did a little exploring, went to the library. Read a bunch of books, went running, answered some emails, talked to Zach, ate dinner, watched HP, and now am writing this. Done. It was a great day, and my run through the park was beautiful! 60 degrees with shade and slight wind.
I'm invariably awkward around people. Sometimes it concerns me, to be honest. And perhaps that's the source of the awkwardness. I guess its the universal desire for acceptance that's to blame. If I'm talking to a person I've known for years, someone I feel super comfortable with, the words just flow out. I'm not making excuses for who I am, I'm not analyzing your every glance for possible dissatisfaction, I'm just chatting. And it's wonderful. But if I don't know you as well, or if I feel that you've judged negatively in the past, I can barely get the words out. They come in a waterfall of frantic phrases, poorly thought-out, or in sporadic bursts of meaningless words. Then I just shut up, as if I remain silent for a while, you'll have forgotten what I've said. I realized this year that the reason is because I'm afraid. Rationally, lying in my bed at night, I don't particularly care what anyone thinks about me. I know that I'm trying my best to be a good, kind person- and that I'm not much worse (or much better) than anybody else. That I don't deserve rejection. But I guess beneath that there is the irrational fear of my heart. What if I was made in such a fundamentally strange way that only a few people will ever understand what I'm talking about? And what if everyone who truly understands me, and loves me, dies in a tragic bus accident? Then I'll have to be alone, sputtering my way through conversations for the rest of my life, only talking to my fat grumpy cat Cheesepuff (and I don't even like cats) and publishing a terrible books about rainbows as I grow increasingly spastic and lumpy.
You, my reader, are probably very concerned about me right now. If you aren't, that's ok. But I just want to let you know that I had a perfectly good day today, and nothing particularly awkward happened. I'm sitting content in my room, after eating some chips and watching a Harry Potter movie in Oxford with a group of fellow study abroad students. I guess its just being in a different place, physically removed from all your former connections, brings out both your strengths and weaknesses. I am very good at giving tourists directions to random places in a city I've only lived in for five days. (And on that note, I'm never living in city with tourism..) I'm bad at forming deep connections (or even modest connections) quickly or without a large amount of social awkwardness. I think this is the reason I avoid large social events like the plague. Everyone else : "Do you want to come to this really cool party on a boat that goes down the Thames in London?" Me: "Oh, thank you so much for inviting me, but I think I'll pass. Next time for sure!" Me (in my head): "Why is that fun? You want me to go all the way to London with you people so I can feel incredibly self-conscious for hours and then end up taking care of drunk people?" (And my inner voice was right about the latter... apparently the some of them do not remember the Friday night boat party. Perhaps it still would have been fun. I really don't know though.) I don't think I'd go to any social event at all (aka a gathering with more than 3 people I know very well) without Kathleen's influence. I think this is why God blessed me with such an amazingly sociable sister. Unlike a lot of sisters I've heard of, she has consistently and without fail included me in any social group she's been a part of. I think this is why I can communicate at all with normal people. This is also how I've become connected with a wonderful group of people, a few of which I consider lifetime friends.
Anyhow, if you are still reading this little sappy except about my sensitive soul, I could tell you about what I actually did today. I went to New College, ate some lunch, did a little exploring, went to the library. Read a bunch of books, went running, answered some emails, talked to Zach, ate dinner, watched HP, and now am writing this. Done. It was a great day, and my run through the park was beautiful! 60 degrees with shade and slight wind.
Friday, May 17, 2013
DAY FOUR!
5/17/13
Not the most eventful day yesterday to be honest, but today is off to a good start. Yesterday, I had a couple more orientation type events, such as touring New College, learning about the British way of life, and how to use the beautiful, huge, disturbingly confusing library. Since the 16th century, Oxford's received a copy of every book ever printed in the English language. (And any different editions or reprints of the the same books). This puts it at about 12 million books in various libraries disconnected throughout campus, though the majority of them are in underground vaults beneath the city of Oxford. Absolutely insane. Also you have to take an oath not to start any flame in the library or to take out any books (its a non-lending library). This oath is the result of the founder, Bodleian, who was very concerned about the library becoming damaged or lost. This meant the poor little Oxford scholars up till the advent of electricity had no heat (no flames, remember), and finished their reading when it got dark (no candles either). I'm convinced they never got around to installing heat- it was absolutely freezing in there this morning! Right now I'm enjoying a cup of coffee and eating my packed lunch at a cafe to defrost. Then I'm going back. It's been explained to me like a million times, but I wasn't sure how exactly to put books on hold before I left (you can't check anything out, so you are suppose to hold the books with the library, however, when I asked, I think the librarian thought I was crazy). Later today I plan on ambushing the track club, and get some information there. I'll take a picture of the track for the running fans :) I also think I might go listen to the famous New College Choir. And then I'll work on homework, and go to bed. (I'll probably also eat dinner somewhere in there :)
Not the most eventful day yesterday to be honest, but today is off to a good start. Yesterday, I had a couple more orientation type events, such as touring New College, learning about the British way of life, and how to use the beautiful, huge, disturbingly confusing library. Since the 16th century, Oxford's received a copy of every book ever printed in the English language. (And any different editions or reprints of the the same books). This puts it at about 12 million books in various libraries disconnected throughout campus, though the majority of them are in underground vaults beneath the city of Oxford. Absolutely insane. Also you have to take an oath not to start any flame in the library or to take out any books (its a non-lending library). This oath is the result of the founder, Bodleian, who was very concerned about the library becoming damaged or lost. This meant the poor little Oxford scholars up till the advent of electricity had no heat (no flames, remember), and finished their reading when it got dark (no candles either). I'm convinced they never got around to installing heat- it was absolutely freezing in there this morning! Right now I'm enjoying a cup of coffee and eating my packed lunch at a cafe to defrost. Then I'm going back. It's been explained to me like a million times, but I wasn't sure how exactly to put books on hold before I left (you can't check anything out, so you are suppose to hold the books with the library, however, when I asked, I think the librarian thought I was crazy). Later today I plan on ambushing the track club, and get some information there. I'll take a picture of the track for the running fans :) I also think I might go listen to the famous New College Choir. And then I'll work on homework, and go to bed. (I'll probably also eat dinner somewhere in there :)
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
First true day in Oxford
5/15/13
I received my first assignment for my tutorial (due May 24th), accompanied by a particularly long and scary list of potential reading materials. While I will not be able to start it until Thursday, I have two weeks so that should be plenty of time to write it. Today we had orientation, with (among other events) a two hour walking tour of the city. Its an absolutely beautiful city, which I will have to show everyone my pictures of when I get back. There are 38 different individual colleges which make up Oxford University. I'm a member of New College, one of the oldest colleges founded in the 14th century. Google it if you want a better idea of how crazily stunning it is. I'm planning on joining some clubs or going to New's dining hall to meet some true Brits in the next couple days because right now I live with mostly Americans. Maybe soon I'll run around the parks or city to get a better sense of direction, as I'm still not completely comfortably working my way around the city yet. It's crazy being here, and I have to go get dinner soon. I'll write more later, when I can charge my computer (yeah, my adapter doesn't take three pronged plugs, so I have to go get one tonight).
I received my first assignment for my tutorial (due May 24th), accompanied by a particularly long and scary list of potential reading materials. While I will not be able to start it until Thursday, I have two weeks so that should be plenty of time to write it. Today we had orientation, with (among other events) a two hour walking tour of the city. Its an absolutely beautiful city, which I will have to show everyone my pictures of when I get back. There are 38 different individual colleges which make up Oxford University. I'm a member of New College, one of the oldest colleges founded in the 14th century. Google it if you want a better idea of how crazily stunning it is. I'm planning on joining some clubs or going to New's dining hall to meet some true Brits in the next couple days because right now I live with mostly Americans. Maybe soon I'll run around the parks or city to get a better sense of direction, as I'm still not completely comfortably working my way around the city yet. It's crazy being here, and I have to go get dinner soon. I'll write more later, when I can charge my computer (yeah, my adapter doesn't take three pronged plugs, so I have to go get one tonight).
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Airplanes, Rain, and a Peppermint Latte
5/14/13
There isn't much to say about my flights, except for the fact that I survived. My first flight to Chicago got delayed by almost an hour, so I stressed out a little about missing my actual flight to London. I didn't know what gate to go to when I landed in Chicago, so I asked this very nice man, who tried to point me in the general direction, and I got confused and started towards these stairs. Next thing I know, this super angry women is yelling at me, because apparently you have to wait in line before you can go down the mysterious stairs. (They actually led to a shuttle to the gate I needed, but I was confused and sleep deprived. ) Once I made it to my flight to London (with a whole 20 minutes to spare), I discovered a man sitting in my seat. So they moved me to economy plus, which meant I got extra leg room, essentially. This did not, however, help me sleep. (We experienced unsettling turbulence). As I write, I haven't slept since Sunday night.(On the other hand, I did read the Hobbit in one sitting). Then once I landed, I amazed myself by actually finding the bus, and finding the OSAP office. (Finding my apartment took me longer, but with the help of a nice British women with a blue umbrella, I located it.) My apartment (for this week at least, its a long story, but the living situation I requested is only available starting next week) is AMAZING! Its in a great location, and has really pretty windows, and I have a room all to myself. And on the plus side, its close to a lot of little sandwich shops, cafes, and other eateries. As I wandered about Oxford this afternoon, that's what made everything a little bit more awake and a little more cozy. A coffee shop, only a block from my apartment, made me the perfect peppermind chai latte. It makes me feel happy on the inside.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Traveling vs Logic
Did I mention I don't like flying? As I told my dad yesterday, "I can't fall asleep on the plane, because I need to be awake in case the airplanes crashes." Logic: 0 points; Michelle Logic: 1 point. Another worry for me is making the four blocks from the place the shuttle drops me to the study abroad office. It really shouldn't be a concern, but I'm super concerned about those four blocks. More concerned than I am about plane crashes, or finding the shuttle. Logic: 0 points; Michelle Logic: 11.375849384 points. (And yes, I'm making up random numbers to score this. I don't want logic to win because I use a systematic scoring process.)
However, both my dad, Zach, Meagan, and Kathleen have reassured me that the plane will probably not crash. It's a nice thought.
However, both my dad, Zach, Meagan, and Kathleen have reassured me that the plane will probably not crash. It's a nice thought.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Packing!
5/12/13
Packing really should not be such a long and involved process. Especially for someone with organizational problems. Its not that I intend to lose things, or that I intend to finish everything in a frazzled burst of energy. It just happens not to be on the forefront of my mind, and then all of a sudden, I discovered all my things have run away to another mysterious dimension or that valuable days have past, and I'm thrust into complete disorganization. I'm amazed I get anything done, to be honest. I don't use a planner, but a series of indecipherable stick notes in random books or the hurried scribble on my hand to remind myself to attend a certain event or to complete a certain task, often weeks in advance. And then I wash my hands, or I never open the random book, and I wake up on a Tuesday going, "What am I forgetting?" And somehow, at the last hour of the last day, I remember. And by a miracle of some sort, it always gets done. A fear is that others realize how close I was to entirely forgetting about that party or that important homework assignment. But packing! Packing! I will conquer you. So many things to forget, so little time. Yet, perhaps by the hair of my teeth, I won't forget anything.
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