British Word of the Day: yeahyeahyeah - A widely used response of affirmation. (American's "Uh-huh".) eg: "Yeahyeahyeah, I think I know what you're saying."
I completely do not have time to write a blog.
It's a Friday night.
I have pictures from Winchester Cathedral that I'd like to post, but I don't have that kind of time.
This term is getting curiouser and curiouser.
Spent 4 hours in the English Faculty Library tomorrow. I didn't get much done, though I went through book after book. It was horrible. I came home with just one that may prove helpful. Tomorrow, I'll hit up the Bodleian, since that's one of the only libraries open on Saturday's during term time, open from 10 - 4. I'll see what I can find in the Shakespeare section of the History section. I managed to find that area on accident last time I went in the Radcliffe Camera.
So much to do.
2500 words for Monday on how our knowledge of the conventions of theatre in Shakespeare's age affect the way we read his plays.
2500 words to go.
Oh, dear.
Cheers! (I think?)
27 March 2009
21 March 2009
a very mad party
British Word of the Day: pitch - A large, grassy area upon which various sports are played. The 'pitch' generally has borders within which football, ultimate frisbee, or croquet may be played. (American's "field.") eg: "Let's all go out onto the pitch and start a match."
Today was particularly fun.
It consisted of a lot of sugar, tea, chocolate, and charity shopping. So you may imagine.
The Mad Hatter Tea Party was a wonderful idea by our "JCR" (Junior Common Room) (students who put on events etc. for our program). Junior Deans dressed up as Mad Hatter and the March Hare, and tea was dribbled and sugar was spilled and cream was tossed every which way. But I still managed to get a decent cup of peppermint tea.
I dressed up in a simple pink dress and a flowery, feathery headpiece, and was dubbed The Snarky Iris. I was perfectly fine with this, and it added suitably to my character as the day wore on.
The snarkiest iris that ever lived.
I have some sleep to snatch before tomorrow. Though it's still early, saying "I'm going to bed" and actually climbing into aforementioned item are completely different things. Forty-five minutes usually seems to sneak in there somewhere.
But this means I may be in bed before midnight, which is incredibly appalling to some, but indubitably appealing to me.
Goodnight! (+ 45 minutes = actual bed time)
Cheers!
Today was particularly fun.
It consisted of a lot of sugar, tea, chocolate, and charity shopping. So you may imagine.
The Mad Hatter Tea Party was a wonderful idea by our "JCR" (Junior Common Room) (students who put on events etc. for our program). Junior Deans dressed up as Mad Hatter and the March Hare, and tea was dribbled and sugar was spilled and cream was tossed every which way. But I still managed to get a decent cup of peppermint tea.
I dressed up in a simple pink dress and a flowery, feathery headpiece, and was dubbed The Snarky Iris. I was perfectly fine with this, and it added suitably to my character as the day wore on.
The snarkiest iris that ever lived.I have some sleep to snatch before tomorrow. Though it's still early, saying "I'm going to bed" and actually climbing into aforementioned item are completely different things. Forty-five minutes usually seems to sneak in there somewhere.
But this means I may be in bed before midnight, which is incredibly appalling to some, but indubitably appealing to me.
Goodnight! (+ 45 minutes = actual bed time)
Cheers!
20 March 2009
technology and me
British Word of the Day: lorry - a vehicle with an open area in back to put various large items--especially good for moving with sofas and couches and large pieces of furniture. (American's "truck"). eg: Put that in the back of the lorry, it won't fit in the Mini."
Charming blog entry title, right?
That's the only thing charming about it. We took a lovely field trip to an old Roman city in the British countryside, and I whipped out my camera at the first Kodak moment only to find it refused to take pictures. It allowed me to assume it was working because the review portion of the camera was working. But the actual picture-taking portion of the camera device was not.
This put a damper on my plans to have a picture post this evening.
I shall have to describe the area, then. And, you can also "google" St Alban and his cathedral, and the area surrounding, Verulamium.
The area was:
green
lush
verdant
hilly
warm
other things
The cathedral was:
Gothic
AND Saxon in architectural style
made of brick
AND other quarried items from the old Roman town
The cream tea at a local tea house was:
luscious
delicious
decadent
inexpensive
satisfying
The bus ride was:
longer than expected
bouncy in a bus
The museum was:
small
not completely impressive
not completely necessary
somewhat interesting
soporific
The old theatre was:
pretty awesome
mossy
quite old
rocky
day-dream inducing
The day was informative, the sun was shining, and the shrine of St Alban was a lot smaller than it appeared in the lecture power point picture yesterday.
Yet, I am always learning.
The vomitorium is not where Romans went to vomit after eating gluttonously so they could go back for seconds (bingeing and purgeing et cetera.)
A vomitorium is actually a craftily widened hallway placed underneath the seats that leads out of a theatre to the outside, so that the theatre may spew out the audience at a quicker rate rather than a clump of the entertained audience attempting to fit into a single file line at once at the end of a performance in the theatre.
News to me.
I have some things to catch up on. But sleep, for once, is not one of them! I think some of the house is making an evening of the Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers. Last night it was (shocker here) The Fellowship of the Ring. Maybe tomorrow, they'll get really crazy and watch The Return of the King. Who knows?
Tomorrow, our programme is having a Happy Unbirthday Party. I'm making dark chocolate truffles for the baking competition (which is really just a ploy to get baked goods to the Alice in Wonderland tea party.) Now what shall I wear? My friend Lis is thinking of going as the doormouse, dressing all in brown and acting extremely tired. Sounds appealing. The Mad Hatter and the March Hare characters are already spoken for. I'll see what I can do.
If only I had the perfect blue dress, white apron and small kitten...
Cheers!
Charming blog entry title, right?
That's the only thing charming about it. We took a lovely field trip to an old Roman city in the British countryside, and I whipped out my camera at the first Kodak moment only to find it refused to take pictures. It allowed me to assume it was working because the review portion of the camera was working. But the actual picture-taking portion of the camera device was not.
This put a damper on my plans to have a picture post this evening.
I shall have to describe the area, then. And, you can also "google" St Alban and his cathedral, and the area surrounding, Verulamium.
The area was:
green
lush
verdant
hilly
warm
other things
The cathedral was:
Gothic
AND Saxon in architectural style
made of brick
AND other quarried items from the old Roman town
The cream tea at a local tea house was:
luscious
delicious
decadent
inexpensive
satisfying
The bus ride was:
longer than expected
bouncy in a bus
The museum was:
small
not completely impressive
not completely necessary
somewhat interesting
soporific
The old theatre was:
pretty awesome
mossy
quite old
rocky
day-dream inducing
The day was informative, the sun was shining, and the shrine of St Alban was a lot smaller than it appeared in the lecture power point picture yesterday.
Yet, I am always learning.
The vomitorium is not where Romans went to vomit after eating gluttonously so they could go back for seconds (bingeing and purgeing et cetera.)
A vomitorium is actually a craftily widened hallway placed underneath the seats that leads out of a theatre to the outside, so that the theatre may spew out the audience at a quicker rate rather than a clump of the entertained audience attempting to fit into a single file line at once at the end of a performance in the theatre.
News to me.
I have some things to catch up on. But sleep, for once, is not one of them! I think some of the house is making an evening of the Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers. Last night it was (shocker here) The Fellowship of the Ring. Maybe tomorrow, they'll get really crazy and watch The Return of the King. Who knows?
Tomorrow, our programme is having a Happy Unbirthday Party. I'm making dark chocolate truffles for the baking competition (which is really just a ploy to get baked goods to the Alice in Wonderland tea party.) Now what shall I wear? My friend Lis is thinking of going as the doormouse, dressing all in brown and acting extremely tired. Sounds appealing. The Mad Hatter and the March Hare characters are already spoken for. I'll see what I can do.
If only I had the perfect blue dress, white apron and small kitten...
Cheers!
19 March 2009
back in action
British Word of the Day: banger - meat product that comes in long skinny tubes, fried up and often accompanied with mash, [mashed potatoes]. (American's "sausage.") eg: "I'm making bangers tonight, will you make the mash?"
I'm back in England, after much traveling. The ferry took 7 hours (while it was moving). The trains took about 5 hours. The traveling took...a while. But I think it was worth it. I'm exhausted, and my room smells like cumin--my roommate went to Morocco for break, and brought me back a bag of cumin to spice up my night. and day. and afternoons. and mornings. I don't know where to put it so that it doesn't smell up the entire room it's in. I should find something that seals really well--Tupperware in the house seems to be in short supply at any given moment. There are always leftovers, and never any leftover Tupperware as a result. Maybe some sort of bag would work. Some "cling film" perhaps.
Tomorrow we go on a field trip all day to Veralamium / St. Alban's. It should be a good time. St Alban was an interesting fellow. There are only stories about him--nothing is proven, since it all happened so long ago.
In its most basic form, the story goes something like this.
Amphibula was a Christian in England when it wasn't so popular.
Alban was a kind-hearted...pagan.
Amphibula hid with Alban.
Alban was impressed with Amphibula's piety, and converted to Christianity.
Alban dressed up in Amphibula's cloak when the soldiers came to kill Amphibula, a renowned Christian of the area.
Alban was taken away, and crowds swarmed onto the bridge, the only passageway to the place of execution.
Alban became a saint in a matter of a few hours:
1. He prayed that God would allow him to be martyr, and God parted the river, allowing them to cross to the place of execution.
2. He prayed that God would give them water to drink when they crossed--everyone gets thirsty, even martyrs.
3. He was executed, and at the moment the ax chopped off his head, the executioner's eyes popped out of his skull. Some pictures depict the executioner catching his eyeballs having just chopped off the head of Alban, in a moment of spectacular dexterity.
Thus, he came to be known as St. Alban, the first martyr of the Christian church of England.
Tomorrow we will go to see his shrine in the church at Veralamium.
Today, I will try to read some love-letters of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning. Crucial to my long-essay.
Up next: Choosing My Case Study Questions During British Landscapes, Quite Feasibly "How does knowledge of the business of theatre OR the practicalities and conventions of the theatre in Shakespeare’s lifetime affect our understanding of his work?
and "'Through hymnody Vaughan Williams reached his widest audience and had his most profound impact on English cultural life’. Do you agree?
More reading. More writing. What did I expect?
Cheers!
I'm back in England, after much traveling. The ferry took 7 hours (while it was moving). The trains took about 5 hours. The traveling took...a while. But I think it was worth it. I'm exhausted, and my room smells like cumin--my roommate went to Morocco for break, and brought me back a bag of cumin to spice up my night. and day. and afternoons. and mornings. I don't know where to put it so that it doesn't smell up the entire room it's in. I should find something that seals really well--Tupperware in the house seems to be in short supply at any given moment. There are always leftovers, and never any leftover Tupperware as a result. Maybe some sort of bag would work. Some "cling film" perhaps.
Tomorrow we go on a field trip all day to Veralamium / St. Alban's. It should be a good time. St Alban was an interesting fellow. There are only stories about him--nothing is proven, since it all happened so long ago.
In its most basic form, the story goes something like this.
Amphibula was a Christian in England when it wasn't so popular.
Alban was a kind-hearted...pagan.
Amphibula hid with Alban.
Alban was impressed with Amphibula's piety, and converted to Christianity.
Alban dressed up in Amphibula's cloak when the soldiers came to kill Amphibula, a renowned Christian of the area.
Alban was taken away, and crowds swarmed onto the bridge, the only passageway to the place of execution.
Alban became a saint in a matter of a few hours:
1. He prayed that God would allow him to be martyr, and God parted the river, allowing them to cross to the place of execution.
2. He prayed that God would give them water to drink when they crossed--everyone gets thirsty, even martyrs.
3. He was executed, and at the moment the ax chopped off his head, the executioner's eyes popped out of his skull. Some pictures depict the executioner catching his eyeballs having just chopped off the head of Alban, in a moment of spectacular dexterity.
Thus, he came to be known as St. Alban, the first martyr of the Christian church of England.
Tomorrow we will go to see his shrine in the church at Veralamium.
Today, I will try to read some love-letters of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning. Crucial to my long-essay.
Up next: Choosing My Case Study Questions During British Landscapes, Quite Feasibly "How does knowledge of the business of theatre OR the practicalities and conventions of the theatre in Shakespeare’s lifetime affect our understanding of his work?
and "'Through hymnody Vaughan Williams reached his widest audience and had his most profound impact on English cultural life’. Do you agree?
More reading. More writing. What did I expect?
Cheers!
15 March 2009
En Nederland
Dutch Word of the Day: ja - [yah] - an agreement, an affirmative word. (American for "yes!") eg: "Have you just been in Holland?" "Ja!"
If you couldn't tell, my spring break is being spent in the Netherlands (the motherland.) It's absolutely wonderful, and I've certainly had my fair share of Dutch cheese, stroopwafels, and had a few windmill sightings.
Thus far, Rebekah and I have only really seen Haarlem (not to be confused with Harlem, New York) and loved it. We stopped over in Leiden to see what there was to see, and mistakenly thought that a place called Kaas Markt (Cheese Market) would actually sell cheese. Boy, were we wrong. We also learned from a local that the "Beast Market" didn't have any beasts. We are purely stupid tourists, but gathered a laugh from that one. We found Dutch cheese, nevertheless, but I heard that Gouda, Holland is now the only outdoor cheese market these days, where they have enormous wheels of cheese out on tarps for a market. A normal Dutch market worked out well enough, but Rebekah and I haven't gathered up enough courage to eat the herring yet...we'll have to try that at some point.
Right now, we're in Ermelo, with my father's cousins Jan & Coby. They're wonderful people, and we're getting the full experience, with koffietijt all the time, and koekjes (cookies) along with it.
Tomorrow, we hope to go on a bicycle tour of Ermelo, and take a small, short ferry across a man-made lake to a fisherman town...the name of which escapes me at the moment. Tomorrow evening, I may meet up with some friends in Zwolle that are studying there for the semestre--Zwolle is just a few train stops away from Ermelo. That's the great thing about Holland--you could take a 3 hour train from North to South Holland, and that's it.
You'll be hearing from me. Holland was an excellent choice. Part of me wants to live here. Part of me thinks it's just the glass of red wine talking. Maybe the cheese, too.
Cheers...or...Prost! [prohst]
If you couldn't tell, my spring break is being spent in the Netherlands (the motherland.) It's absolutely wonderful, and I've certainly had my fair share of Dutch cheese, stroopwafels, and had a few windmill sightings.
Thus far, Rebekah and I have only really seen Haarlem (not to be confused with Harlem, New York) and loved it. We stopped over in Leiden to see what there was to see, and mistakenly thought that a place called Kaas Markt (Cheese Market) would actually sell cheese. Boy, were we wrong. We also learned from a local that the "Beast Market" didn't have any beasts. We are purely stupid tourists, but gathered a laugh from that one. We found Dutch cheese, nevertheless, but I heard that Gouda, Holland is now the only outdoor cheese market these days, where they have enormous wheels of cheese out on tarps for a market. A normal Dutch market worked out well enough, but Rebekah and I haven't gathered up enough courage to eat the herring yet...we'll have to try that at some point.
Right now, we're in Ermelo, with my father's cousins Jan & Coby. They're wonderful people, and we're getting the full experience, with koffietijt all the time, and koekjes (cookies) along with it.
Tomorrow, we hope to go on a bicycle tour of Ermelo, and take a small, short ferry across a man-made lake to a fisherman town...the name of which escapes me at the moment. Tomorrow evening, I may meet up with some friends in Zwolle that are studying there for the semestre--Zwolle is just a few train stops away from Ermelo. That's the great thing about Holland--you could take a 3 hour train from North to South Holland, and that's it.
You'll be hearing from me. Holland was an excellent choice. Part of me wants to live here. Part of me thinks it's just the glass of red wine talking. Maybe the cheese, too.
Cheers...or...Prost! [prohst]
11 March 2009
Arrival of 8th week and ream of work
British Word of the Day: tick - to make a mark on a paper or form. (American "check".) eg: "Tick next to your name if you've already met with your advisor this term."
Hello, all.
Today has been particularly stressful. Trying to write up my final essay for my last tutorial (probably of my life...) is excellent. I'm reading Lady Windermere's Fan and Mrs. Warren's Profession by Oscar Wilde and G.B. Shaw, respectively. I'm thinking of writing about the role of secrets, onstage and off. Censorship became an interesting part of Victorian drama, and all plays performed were to be sent into the censor of England before they were performed. G.B. Shaw went around this by having his play performed in a small independent theatre. The censor of England found out about this, and was less than ecstatic that Shaw had circumnavigated his way around this law.
Much to do.
I'm leaving for Holland via ferry on Friday evening (an overnight ferry) and will be gone until late Wednesday evening. I probably won't get a chance to write on the blog again until after spring break.
I really, really need this break.
Thanks for reading. I'll have much to put up after the term is completely over. Hilary Term ends this week, but I have 3.5 weeks of "British Landscape" towards which to look forward. (Note how awkwardly I ended that sentence withOUT a preposition.)
A funny quote on that, from a former minister of England:
“This is the sort of English up with which I will not put.” Good work, Winston.
On that note,
Cheers!
Hello, all.
Today has been particularly stressful. Trying to write up my final essay for my last tutorial (probably of my life...) is excellent. I'm reading Lady Windermere's Fan and Mrs. Warren's Profession by Oscar Wilde and G.B. Shaw, respectively. I'm thinking of writing about the role of secrets, onstage and off. Censorship became an interesting part of Victorian drama, and all plays performed were to be sent into the censor of England before they were performed. G.B. Shaw went around this by having his play performed in a small independent theatre. The censor of England found out about this, and was less than ecstatic that Shaw had circumnavigated his way around this law.
Much to do.
I'm leaving for Holland via ferry on Friday evening (an overnight ferry) and will be gone until late Wednesday evening. I probably won't get a chance to write on the blog again until after spring break.
I really, really need this break.
Thanks for reading. I'll have much to put up after the term is completely over. Hilary Term ends this week, but I have 3.5 weeks of "British Landscape" towards which to look forward. (Note how awkwardly I ended that sentence withOUT a preposition.)
A funny quote on that, from a former minister of England:
“This is the sort of English up with which I will not put.” Good work, Winston.
On that note,
Cheers!
04 March 2009
There's always more books in the library
British Word of the Day: snigger - a quiet, grating type of laugh, usually under one's breath. (American's "snicker.") eg: "Don't snigger at me behind my back--I can hear you."
Today was another reading day. I'm onto some Sensationalist Victorian Fiction, namely The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. I've already gasped in surprise/amusement, and I'm only about 150 pages into the 650 it requires. This is due to be read by Friday, along with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. Should be an adventure of a day tomorrow.
I have much to do, so I'll have to leave it at that. The weekend will be good--rejuvenating, methinks.
My long essay proposal was due on Monday, and I'm writing on how the biographical history of the Brownings affected their poetry. There are some books in the Bodleian Library I need to order up from the stacks, so I can read them when I go--instead of sitting in their uncomfortable chairs and still falling asleep.
The "stacks" that you must order from the Bod are quite literally underneath your feet when you walk in. You STAND on knowledge to enter the library. Metaphorical and literal--just my cup of tea! (Or cappucino, depending on the day and amount of sleep snatched in the early morning.)
Cheers to Friday night - Sunday afternoon!
Today was another reading day. I'm onto some Sensationalist Victorian Fiction, namely The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. I've already gasped in surprise/amusement, and I'm only about 150 pages into the 650 it requires. This is due to be read by Friday, along with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. Should be an adventure of a day tomorrow.
I have much to do, so I'll have to leave it at that. The weekend will be good--rejuvenating, methinks.
My long essay proposal was due on Monday, and I'm writing on how the biographical history of the Brownings affected their poetry. There are some books in the Bodleian Library I need to order up from the stacks, so I can read them when I go--instead of sitting in their uncomfortable chairs and still falling asleep.
The "stacks" that you must order from the Bod are quite literally underneath your feet when you walk in. You STAND on knowledge to enter the library. Metaphorical and literal--just my cup of tea! (Or cappucino, depending on the day and amount of sleep snatched in the early morning.)
Cheers to Friday night - Sunday afternoon!
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