Sickie.

"Poetry is emotion put into measure. The emotion must come by nature, but the measure can be acquired by art. " Thomas Hardy

Yesterday we went to Brick Lane to wander the Sunday Up Market and Spitalfields Market. I go there often, but this is the first time I noticed on our 205 bus route there an old graveyard with crooked headstones peeping out of a rot-iron fence right off the city street near Finsbury Square. When the red double decker bus stopped at a light, I read the notable people buried there, etched on the outside cement wall. Thomas Hardy was one of them. Thomas Hardy! The man whose words I had to nearly memorize in 10th grade English, hidden away in a graveyard no one cares to notice. It was a rather depressing realization to see a man of such passion and inspiration to rest in a graveyard so forgotten.

I wasn't in the best mood yesterday.
I just discovered that Thomas Hardy's heart is buried in Dorset, and his body in Westminster Abbey. So maybe not the same Thomas Hardy. Oh well, still allowed for some poet research. The man had some good quotes.

Today. I'm sick, and I never get sick.
"And yet to a bad there is worse" ~Thomas Hardy
My head was pounding all day, my tired eyes hardly met anyone else's. The language barrier I often smile and work through with residents was higher than ever, and a mob of Italians thought it wise to bring their screaming children to the hostel. When sickness hits, homesickness is at its worst. I woke up from a 4-hour afternoon nap craving Egg Drop Soup, the chinese food my mom always gave us when we were ill. Alas, I found no Egg Drop Soup in the area...it must be an American Chinese thing. So I walked down the street and bought some soup and Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia. It called out to me with its "U.S. Recipe" promotion on the front...I want anything that tastes like home right now.

Keane tomorrow night at ISH, and Edward Scissorhands on Wednesday if the ticket price drops to 10 pounds. Then a night out with some ISHers on Thursday, staff party Friday, fellow BUNACer's bday Saturday, then before I know it, Tuesday will be here with Adam. I can hardly wait for it...

"A lover without indiscretion is no lover at all." -Thomas Hardy

December already?

Note to self:
Etiquette requires the greeting "Hey y'alright?" to be answered with "I am and you?"
It's taken me three months of stumbling through awkward greetings and responses to learn the proper wording. It seems simple enough, doesn't it? But I was caught off guard the first month. Why wouldn't I be okay? Do I look sick? Angry? Paranoid, maybe?
And you, is it rude if I ask if you're alright?


Another long gap since I've written, so another long entry.
Today I directed Sam Neil, the actor who plays Dr. Grant in Jurassic Park, to the accommodation office. I didn't know it at the moment because I talk to at least 200 people every day who want to know where the accommodation office is, where their business conference is, how to get back into their locked rooms, etc., and I hate to say it, but I've stopped paying attention to people beyond "Down the hallway, to the right" or "I'll call the duty manager". So to be honest, I wouldn't have recognized the guy anyway if one of my coworkers wouldn't have yelled in a whisper "That's the dude from Jurassic Park!" I looked at his IMDB then back to him several times and began to see the resemblance eventually. Noticing actors age always makes me realize how much time is going by.

Edinburgh was beautiful, frigid and creepy. Who knew it had one of the most haunted graveyards, finger-pointing witch hunts and a portal entrance to the Fairy World? Two castles and an ancient volcano, the real life Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the adulturous queen for whom the term Bloody Mary came about? What an amazing city to be in. I'm going back with Adam in a month (!) and I can't wait. I've learned that it's best to visit the cities you love at least twice because I think the first time is the honeymoon tourist phase, and the second is really getting to know the city itself. I learned that with London.

On Sunday Olesia asked me to go to a free photo shoot at a Urban Slink, a fashion photography studio. It was on the 3rd floor of a warehouse type of building and we were quickly ushered into a bright room with funky urban decor across the walls. Music was playing loudly. We had our hair and makeup done, and after I looked nothing like myself, we went into the studio. There were about six different cubicles with different setups..one was a circular bed with satin sheets, another was a staircase with bricks in the background, one all-white scene, a leather burgandy sofa, and so on. My favorite part was when he said "Okay, into the box with you." He pointed at a white cubed tunnel on the ground that I'd thought was a bench and had me squeeze my body into it. I have to say, some of those shots were smokin'! At the very end of it they brought us into a room with just a woman and her computer and you go through every single shot and say "Yes" "No" "Maybe" to narrow them down, until finally we got so narrowed down that we asked how many we were supposed to choose. One individual shot was £75!!! And it wasn't even a print, it was on a CD. We got her talked down to £50/shot and I had 4 that I absolutely adored but I had to walk away. I couldn't do it. I'd rather buy my own SLR with that and do the shots myself! Olesia ended up buying four, and they are incredible.

I'm losing touch with myself in this job. My creativity needs an outlet but I'm stalled at the front desk with this invisible barrier between me and what I want to do.
That's just a lame excuse, I know that. I'm just too much of a coward to take a step in a definitive direction.

My supervisor at KUTC said something last summer that still hovers in my mind and sooths my anxiety about career choices. No matter where you choose to live, you wake up the same, go to work, go home, sleep, and do it all over again. And on the weekends you do what you like: take trips, whatever you choose. But work is the same anywhere. I don't know that I completely agree with that, but I'm realizing that the redundancy part is true, even across the ocean. And that no matter how far I am from home and how different the culture is, I'm still myself.
I choose coffee shops over night clubs and I still need to make time to clean my room. And some nights, even though I have london at my doorstep with infinite possibilities whispering in my ear, I decide to stay at home and watch Runaway Bride with a few other girls.

Tiring of London

So many of the non-British people I talk to in London wish they were somewhere else, yet they've been here for years. My Bangledishi duty manager at work hasn't been home in six years and has no plans to return, but doesn't particularly like London. The Turk who serves my white coffee every morning at Cafe Mezze tells me stories of how beautiful Turkey is, with its 26 degrees Celsius weather and beaches, yet hasn't been home for several years. He shakes his head when I ask him if he likes living here and says "12 years is too long here. Same thing every day."

There are so many stories like these. And it makes me wonder...why are people drawn to this city only to be miserable in it? Isn't there anyone here who loves waking up to the busy streets and honking taxi cabs, the fresh bakeries and endless wanderings down roads that make no sense, the anonymity that comes with the feeling of you and the city?

Then again, these people have been here for years, and I only three months. I can see how city life could wear on a person after awhile. The morning traffic that once energized you ends up smothering you with smog, the fresh bakeries don't cease their deliciousness but begin fattening you, it takes you hours to find anything on the confusing streets you once loved getting lost on, and your relationship with London turns into a love/hate one. Or maybe just hate.

I can see it happening. But not yet for me.


Andrea, Claudia, Amir and I are going to Edinburgh tomorrow! Amir called the front desk a few minutes ago as he often does in the mornings when I work, and I heard music blaring in the background, then a shout: "18 hours baby!" Every time he calls me in the morning, there is a different music playing loudly in his room. One day it's techno, the next it's Iranian. I sometimes think he puts the phone right next to the speaker when I pick up so I know that it's him. He's going to Dubai to start his career in his father's business next month, and I'm truly going to miss him and his morning calls.

On to Scotland! Hopefully I'll have stories of kilts and haggis and accents I can't understand in my next entry. Then back to London, happily. I'm not sick of the city yet.

Before London wakes

I need to seize the opportunity to write in the wee hours of the morning before my day breezes by with current residents collecting parcels, future residents calling to ask about accommodation and friends hanging around the front desk. One of the funniest parts of living in ISH is everything that could go wrong in a building this old does. There are currently leaks above the chandelier in the lobby that someone could shower in. It looks and sounds like rain. Quite pretty, if you think of it that way. Maintenance people are frantic and shouting at each other in Portuguese trying to figure out what to do. There is a recycling bucket on top of the reception desk and heavy blankets covering every other surface. When the CEO of ISH came in he said "Oh shit." and the maintenance guy said, "Well at the moment, it's just water"

British humor. Gotta love it.
There is so much to write about, I think I will just start from the most recent and work my way back.

Yesterday we went to Bodean's BBQ in Soho. It's a KC BBQ joint in the middle of London, and the owner of it is a KU grad! That's not the best part. The best is that when we were deciding to get take away or eat in, Andrea says to me, "Kelly, don't freak out, but Josh Hartnett just walked in the door." I thought she was just joking, but I turn around and sure enough, there was my teenage heartthrob AGAIN. So, it goes without saying that we stayed, and we happened to get a table right across from him and his friends. Best dinner I've ever had in London, I must say.

We had spent the day at Brick Lane market. I have an addiction to markets, though I don't think I spend that much at them. My favorite part is the bakeries that mark all of their delectable pastries down to £1 in the last hour. Yesterday I got a chocolate/almond flaky pretzel of deliciousness.

London is ready for Christmas. They were almost ready on the 1st of November. Now they're serious. Markets are getting ready, and there are lighting ceremonies all over the city for different neighborhoods. We're going to make a night of the Marylebone High Street lighting. That's the one right next to my hostel. There will even be fireworks! Maybe that will be the special occasion I've been waiting for to try mulled wine. It's a red wine simmered with spices. Apparently a holiday favorite around here, because it's everywhere. I had a mulled latte yesterday, and plan to have several a week for the next month or so because it was heaven!

We went horseback riding in Wales last weekend and stopped off at Chepstow Castle, the oldest stone castle in Europe, and Tintern Abbey, the remains of an abbey where Woodsworth wrote Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey. Not the most original title, but now I see that maybe the beauty was too much to describe with anything more. Here are a few lines, followed by a shot of his inspiration:

Once again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur. Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.



I think it's worth a few lines, yeah?

That night we went to a little village called Hay-on-Wye, which is also known as the Town of Books or the "Woodstock of the Mind" (Bill Clinton). It's packed with used bookstore, and even boasts the largest second-hand book shop in the world! There was one that was at the bottom of the castle and there were bookshelves lining the border of the square. It was called the "honesty bookstore" and you put 50p in a little box on the wall for a hardback, 30p in for paperback. I bought an amazing Welsh wool blanket at a store, too. They have sheep like we have cows...they graze all over everywhere.

That night we stayed at the hotel that inspired the Sherlock Holmes novel, The Hound of Baskervilles. It was such an old creepy hotel, but such a perfect place for us to stay. And the following morning, we rode horses for THREE HOURS in the freezing rain. That was about 2 1/2 hours too long. My horse's name was Eclipse, and I don't think he was fond of me because every time I tugged his reins a little he gave me a look. But he didn't buck me off, that's all I really cared about. In my mind, we parted as friends.

Oh, and last but not least, we saw the "sexiest toilet" in London...It was alright. Maybe not the sexiest, though.

Election buzz

"The true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth but the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope" (Future) President Barack Obama

I was sleeping when history was made in America. News didn't break of Obama's win until about 4 am my time, but I was woken up with a phone call from Adam saying he won it. I couldn't sleep for awhile afterwards, even though I had to work at 7:45 this morning. I surfed CNN for awhile reading about the results. It's still unbelievable, and I wish I was in America to feel that energy. All eyes in London were on the election, whether people were genuinly interested in it or not. You couldn't avoid the topic. A Wisconsin student staying at ISH passed out "I voted" stickers to Americans, blue and red stars and stripe lights danced on the front of the church venue across the street for a watch party, and people filtered in and out of the ISH bar for our own party. When I walked in the bar for dinner, I felt a pang of homesickness. The room was plastered with American flags and they passed out plastic red/white/blue Uncle Sam hats. All night people asked me who I voted for. It's not considered as upfront here, because people were blunt in their asking. Many of the non-Americans had the mindset of it doesn't matter who's elected, America's and the world's problems won't be fixed by one man. It's so sad to me to see such a cynical view of America's future and potential as a world leader, but then I tell myself to look at how America's been run for the past eight years. All of the Americans were hopeful, though. As one student said to me this morning as he walked out, he's proud to be an American for the first time in his adult life, and he finally understands the concept behind the cheesy "I love America" country songs.

I'm out in Leicster Square to celebrate Obama's victory and Bonfire Night (as in V for Vendetta, I've been told.) There will be fireworks all night all across London. How fitting for the emotions at the moment!

All in a week!

Whenever I asked people what they were doing for Halloween, they usually responded with a half grimace and a shrug of the shoulders, then "That's more of something you Americans do..."
I dragged Amir, my Iranian friend and Claudia, my German friend to a Halloween party in Soho on Friday night. To prepare them, I had to brianstorm what their costumes would be. Their first Halloween costume! Can you imagine? Think of all the Halloweens you have had in your life and how your parents or siblings put on your makeup and held your hand to trick or treat, and welcomed you back from your treacherous night gathering candy with a warm mug of apple cider. Imagine not having those memories!
Amir is more conservative and didn't want to do anything too extreme, so I made him a Jack-o-Lantern. He had worn a bright orange sweater earlier in the week and it's the first thing I thought of. You can't get much more traditional than a Jack-o-Lantern on Halloween. So we shopped London all day on Friday for a green hat and found a beanie at H&M he's worn a few times since, so it wasn't even a waste of money! Then at work I colored and cut out a face and stuck it onto his sweater using rolled up "return to sender" stickers at the front desk. I must say, I was very proud of my creation. And when I told Nacho and Eva, two Spaniards, that he was a Jack-o-Lantern, they said, "A what?"
I couldn't believe it. No one's heard of a Jack-o-Lantern. When I showed them a picture they said, "Oooooh...a pumpkin!"
Claudia decided to be festive a little early, and dressed as a reindeer.

The club in Soho was alright. It was what I would expect for a big city...three levels under the domed ceiling of an old church with hundreds of people dancing. It wasn't that I disliked it, it was just nothing special to me. And my feet hurt like hell from walking over a mile in stilettos. My favorite part of the night was walking home on the famous Oxford Street, usually packed with tourists and the fabulously wealthy in London, instead crawling with intoxicated zombies and witches. As we walked up Great Portland Street, the crowd thinned and the streets were abandoned except for two drunk girls barely clothed in their superhero costumes, clinging onto each other as they stumbled and laughed their way home. They stopped on a corner to watch a guy jamming out by himself in his 2nd floor apartment, and two silent blocks later they came whizzing around the corner on the back of a bike taxi, whining about which direction to go to get home, then made the guy pull a U-turn right next to us to go the other direction.




Earlier in the week I regressed to my pre-teen years of loving Josh Hartnett, because I actually got to meet him! We went to his show, Rain Main at the Apollo Theatre and I might have actually gasped when he came onstage. After the show I planned to stalk him (yes, it is disturbing that these thoughts actually go through my mind so bluntly) and we go to the back stage door and there were about 50 other girls! Ruth turned to me and said, "What, did you think you'd be the only one?" There were strict rules to follow, as the security guard said "You can take pictures of Josh but you cannot take pictures WITH Josh." But I pushed my way to the front when he came out and was speechless. I just stared. I don't know what short wired in my brain, but I just stared and held out my ticket for him to autograph. Every night he does this, a mile away from where I live! So... Saturday night Amir, Claudia and I went to see Burn After Reading (hilarious movie) in Covent Garden, which happened to let out RIGHT when Rain Man ended, and Apollo Theatre is merely a five-minute stroll down the road, so yes. Yes, I am obsessed. Addicted, maybe, to Josh Hartnett. We went again and stood outside the back stage door to watch him like a zoo animal. Claudia said she thinks he recognized me from the previous night because I was a lunatic again just snapping pictures of him. I would hate being famous and beautiful because of crazy people like me.

What if...

Claudia and I went to the ISH bar last night to meet Joe, a 40-something business man and new friend who uses Regent's Gym downstairs. The first time I met him, I was reading a book at the front desk, and he asked what I was reading. Then I witnessed a literary explosion from him. He just went off about this book and that book and have I ever read this one. I was amused and nodded along using the skills I learned as a bartender to feign interest, not thinking I'd ever see him again, but he came the next day with a book in hand to lend to me! So after that, Joe and I started chatting every time he came in about books, then careers, then nonprofits. He is seriously involved in public service, was even nominated for recognition of his work in London. He was so nice to forward my CV on to his employer and began tapping into his connections to see if I could have any volunteer work in media or advertising. He invited me to a debate event at the U.S. Embassy on Monday night but when I RSVPed a day later, it was completely booked.

Last night at the ISH bar he introduced us to Arun, an adorable tiny white-haired Indian man who listened to stories in such an entertaining way I would watch him instead of the story teller. He would say "yes, yes" with hand motions and wide eyes then fall back in his chair laughing at the punchline.
When Arun found out that I have a degree in strategic communication and am temporarily at ISH he said "Well if I pass your CV on to companies and they like you, are you committed to working at ISH?" I had to pause because technically, I signed a six-month contract ending March 1. But I thought about it and said that if someone offered me a job in my field in LONDON FREAKING ENGLAND, I couldn't think twice about taking it.
Then he proposed something to me that did make me think twice. What if I volunteered or interned at an agency and they wanted to take me up in March when my contract is over with ISH?

This is something I secretly wished for when I made the trip over here. And I honestly don't know what I would say.

Well, I'm at work again today and disgusted with the weather. It's beautiful, sunny, and Saturday morning. A perfect day for markets, and I get to sit here all morning. It's okay, though. I'm going to Carmina Burana tonight at Royal Albert Hall which should be incredible. I was told that you have to dress up to appreciate the music, so maybe a new dress is in order...

Never thought I'd love Paris...

Paris...it seems so cliche, doesn't it?
But it's not, because cliches are overused and exaggerated, and usually cliche situations or places don't turn out as sweet as they sound.
Paris was everything people say and 10 times more.

I went there dragging my feet a bit, wishing I was going to Budapest or Amsterdam...anywhere with more substance than a fairy tale's happy ending with fluffy dogs and croissants. It's okay, I told myself. I'll always be able to say I saw the Eiffel Tower.

Then I arrived. The city is the most romantic place, extremely poetic and so so beautiful with the nature, the people and the architecture. First thing we did was take a boat cruise, which I really didn't appreciate as much as I could have because I didn't figure out until halfway through it that I could listen in English if I pressed a certain button. Then we waited in line for the Eiffel Tower.
I've been up the Hancock Building
the Space Needle.
the Sears Tower.
Hell, let's throw the top of the Hyatt in Kansas City in, too.
I've never understood what's so great about soaring thousands of feet in the air to look down at the tops of buildings and gridlocked streets. Until Paris.

I could have spent all night up there, and the next. I could have spent my entire weekend in Paris at the top of the Eiffel Tower and not have been disappointed at all. I would have told myself I could do it all the next trip: Montmatre would still be a hike, the graves would still be there in Pere Lachaise cemetery, and Paris nightlife would always be strong enough to forget the following morning. The sunset beyond the city seemed to be painted by the artists below it.

More on my Paris adventure when I'm more awake...

Watching the leaves change

I always knew I was a city girl.
Every city I've been in since I was a teenager, whether it was Chicago, Seattle, Houston, or elsewhere, I knew the energy of metropolitan life was for me. And oddly enough, when I thought of myself in a city, I never pictured a specific career I would be pursuing. I always thought about how I would spend my free time. Jogging along Lake Michigan's waterfront - going miles further than I would ever go at home - , or sipping a latte in a coffee shop shadowed by skyscrapers reading a book I still haven't had time to read.

I'm living a little of that life right now, and I love it. Though I haven't made it 10k nor finished reading nearly enough books.

I was running in Regent's Park today. The park is like a jigsaw puzzle, and every time I go I get to find a new piece of it. Today I noticed the leaves. I realized that they've been different every time. That's the only way I know the seasons are changing, my runs in Regent's. I jogged under a high ceiling of tree limbs today on a worn grass path next to the proper walkway, which was lined with benches. The ground was damp and covered in orange leaves that allowed pockets of grass to breathe in the gaps of their landings. Moss-covered trees tinted the pathway green on both sides, planted in perfectly measured distances, and the branches met at a peak like an arched hallway. I could see so far ahead of me, and I felt like I was the only person there.

In between my Regent's Park runs and long shifts at ISH, I've been planning my travels with friends. It makes me realize how little time I have here. Paris this week, Brighton the next, then it's November and a whole new month of traveling to Wales and Scotland.
All this traveling and working, and hardly any time to think seriously about my career choices. That's the reason behind this trip (or should I say justification?). I didn't know exactly what I should be doing where back in America, and I told myself that I might as well be confused about it in a different country. I've only learned that I know I want to continue my education, though I know not what in. I suppose a little progress is better than none.

Exciting news --finally figured out the slideshow tool! The pictures in the upper right show are mine, unlike the photo in this post, which I grabbed from a random site..

Simple things.

I don't blog enough.
I'm used to writing for myself...unedited, no pressure to entertain, but I know you're out there, reading this, so I always wonder if what I'm about to write is even worth reading to some people. So since I think there's so much pressure on me to write something earth changing, I decided this will be a blog for the simpler things in life.

Like the flowers on the corner of the reception desk. Every Monday the woman from the florist shop across the street brings a new vase with brand new budding flowers. Each time they're a different arrangement and I get to watch them bloom through the week. She just breezed through with them five minutes ago, swapping out the old vase. I always wonder what happens to the flowers in the old vase. Do they throw them away? Leave them on display at the store? They're still beautiful after a week. But I told the florist that I think I enjoy the flowers more than anyone because I'm next to them all day long. She smiled and said "Well, we shall turn them towards you then."

Simple things.

They're pink lilies, in case anyone out there wonders. Only two are really close to being fully open, but there are a few more on the way and the rest are all buds. We'll see how fast they grow.

Or yesterday, I enjoyed ice cream spaghetti at an Italian cafe. It was noodly strings of ice cream with strawerry syrup on top and white chocolate flakes. Absolutely amazing. It was followed by a bargain deal at a street vendor for a £19 leather coat. Then there's the Moody Blues concert tonight at Royal Albert Hall. Word is the acoustics at this venue are phenomenal...www.royalalberthall.com

Watching the Meltdown from afar

"BUSH: HELP ME OR WE'RE ALL DOOMED"

This is the headline on The London Paper's front page. Granted, I think it could be said that the publication is more gossip and sensationalism than respectable journalism, but it made me laugh out loud as I was handed a copy walking past Regent's Park tube station today after work. Not because of the epic issue at hand, but because of the humorous undertone the words screamed with. Helpless, silly America, what have you gotten yourself into?

It's very interesting to watch in a different country. Although I can try to imagine what people in America right now are feeling, I really can't grasp it. Over here i see a very different view of what's happening in this crisis, the election or anything else newsworthy in America. I wouldn't go as far as to say it is objective, because there are definite sentiments on America its citizens, but it's a different point of view than I've ever seen.

I just watch and read as much as I can and hope that our current and future leaders in Washington can pull it together and come up with a plan to get us out of this mess. As much as we can sit back and say they're all a just bunch of crooked politicians, and their policies are the ones that got us into this mess, there comes a time when you just have to look at them and say, you're a leader. Please lead, and help us out of this mess.

I'm just glad I'm earning my money in pounds.

All dressed up and nowhere to go

I sit in my room in my new dress, my new hose, new shoes and same old self after realizing that the comedy night I planned with friends is just not going to happen. Such a sad feeling. Andrea got a job at the International Students House bar, the same place I work reception at, and went in for a training session that was supposed to last one hour. It's now been 2 hours and 18 minutes. In the time that I've waited I've eaten half a frozen Tesco pizza, drank more than half a bottle of 1.88 pound wine, and sat on the front steps of my flat for about 15 minutes. Even though I'm disappointed the night has turned out the way it has, I see it as a blessing in disguise. I can't remember the last time I've had more than half an hour to myself. As I sat on the roost to my front door I thought about how I've always wished I had a front step to sit and watch the goings by, and through a connecting alley directly in front of my door I'm able to see through to Marylebone Street, a very busy area. Yet I can also look around the quiet street I'm lucky enough to live on. Students on my side, richies on the other.

This morning we went to Burough Market and found that uncountable countries' foods were merely a few steps away. Cheese wheels, blocks of fudge, all-natural wraps, sandwiches and juices made to order. I have pictures, I just need to figure out how to post more than one in an entry...
There were so many people under the tents that I began to feel claustrophobic, but I bought a loaf of raisin date and pecan bread for toast in mornings the next week and a delicious chicken sandwich. Then on to Portobello Road. I cannot WAIT to increase my jewelry collection from this place. I'm hoping to keep it all to unique, authentic pieces of jewelry rather than the plastic mass produced crap. How amazing would it be to return with a good jewelry collection from a British market?

When I got home I went to Regent's Park to feed the birds. If I was a few floors up, I'd see Regent's Park from my window. Unfortunately, I'm in the basement level and I look out a cement wall. Anyway, it took me less than five minutes to walk here:

I love this park so much. I'll be there all day tomorrow for another beautiful day. My manager at work told me this will have been the last good Saturday before winter. Great.

O, the places you can go!

I'm beginning to realize I have entirely too much dead air in my days. My work schedule is like this: one week of 7:45-3:30 shifts, one week of 3:30-11 shifts, then back to morning again.

By the way, as I write this:
Scottish dancing class upstairs mixed with the screaming rock band downstairs and others filtering in and out to the bar on this level. So many people having fun, and I sit in the middle reading Watching the English, an anthropology of British behavior. Two regular bar-goers are standing at the counter, 40 something men from...somewhere in the middle east. One's been around the hostel for years and said that the hostel used to pay double for night shifts and double or triple for holidays, and now everyone is going to the American ways. The Americans screwed everything up.

I wonder if he knows I'm American. Some people can't tell.

Anyway, the shifts of this job make it difficult to get another part time job since it would have to go with the same hours system, so I've been literally just walking between 10 and 3, has to be at least five miles a day for the past few weeks, just looking like a tourist gaping at the buildings and parks. Usually I have something small to do to feel like I accomplished something. For example today I had to go to my bank to get my ATM (or as they say, cash point) cards, and instead of taking the bus I walked there. 4 hours later, I was back at my hostel. I could do that for the next six months, but I realized today that as much as I walk I'll need a little bit of substance for my mind. So here is my feat.

British Museum. One exhibit every weekday. I'll be a genius!

So. There are around 70 exhibits in the British Museum. That's 5 levels and 15 categories, the majority of which are divided by country or geographical region. There are also changing exhibits and themes. Babylon is coming next month and I can't wait!

I started with room 1 today, Enlightenment. Learned all kinds of things about the period in the late 17th to early 19th centuries to look at nature instead of the bible for answers to life's questions. It went through exhibits of the first collections of botany and fossils. Funny thing about fossils is they were discovered when people believed the world was created around 3rd century B.C., and since fossils don't fit into the bible anywhere, people believed they were just abnormal stones, even though the evidence pointed to obvious life forms based on the classification system developed by the Swedish natural philosopher Carl Lineus...and then of the desire for foreign "curiosities" as they were called, to learn of the underlying commonalities between cultures....

yes, I read every single thing in there. It took me an hour and 20 minutes to get through one exhibit. I figured I might as well, right? It's a free museum.

Things I've learned in London so far:

No mistake on the tube is unfixable
You can never own too much black
Be polite...say please and thank you almost excessively
Accept the fact that even though you should be polite, some people are extremely rude without reason.

I'll continue this list in later posts....

Getting a bit more worldly

I finally have a second to myself. Be prepared, because this will be a long entry.

This past week I've been jet lagged, sleep deprived and starving, and constantly surrounded by people at work or at play. I suppose I'll try to remember this trip from the beginning.

Landed in London and carried about 75 lbs of luggage to a bus, then to the tube, then to the hostel. Climbed up countless stairs and bumped into everyone nearby, but we made it to International Students House, my workplace and my home for the next six months, without a wrong turn. The hostel turns out to be more organized and...bigger than I would have thought. Front desk security (where I work) directed us to the reception, which directed us to Mary Trevelyn Hall, a five-minute walk away, where my room is. When we got there we had even more walking to do to get to the room. Once we were there, we collapsed on the bed and hoped to never move again.

Alas, you have to explore once you're here. We asked the receptionist how to find Oxford Circus from here. She told us it was 10 minutes in that direction. However, "that direction" was the wrong direction, and we spent the afternoon wandering. When we tried to find Oxford Circus the next day, it really was a short walk. One of the best shopping streets in the world, right down the street from me. I'm going to have big problems.

The day after I arrived in London, I had to make a flight to Venice at 6:30 in the morning. I arrived there, pretty haughty at that moment because of what was in my mind courage and follow through to land solo in a country where I don't speak the language, but that was shattered pretty quickly when I realized I arrived in a very warm paradise wearing jeans and a sweater and no one cared to speak English.

When in Italy, you speak Italian, you foolish American.

That's the vibe I got the whole trip. But it could have been the 2 hours of sleep I had the night before combined with the jet lag. Or it could have been the fact that I was surrounded by couples and happy families breezing through the last joytrip of their summers. I thought I was an outcast in London, but being alone in a non-English speaking country is a whole other ball game. I was craving London by the end of the first day.

I met a New Zealand couple in the hostel I stayed at and it was nice just to speak to someone in my language. I probably sounded so pitiful to them, and they sat with me an hour and shared their wine.

The next day was much better after 8 hours of sleep. Saw Murano, saw Burano, ate gelato and learned to say thank you and goodbye in Italian. Rode in a water taxi, walked a loop inside San Marco, walked by the fancy pub Hemingway frequented. It was a great, beautiful, historical, mind blowing city. I'm very glad I went there, but I regret the timing. I wish I would have had someone to share it with.

Back in London, I started my job on Monday. I have big shoes to fill, because everyone raves about the American that used to work here. I sit behind the security desk and get paid to check Facebook, blog, answer a phone call, then facebook and blog some more, etc. etc., but I wish I was doing more. There are so many job opportunities in this place I would thrive in like event planning or marketing, but I just get to watch from my little desk.

Not that I'm complaining. I could have much much worse. And I get to meet so many residents! Some of them are funny, most of them are rude. About half of them don't speak fluent English. One man asked me if I'm from Spain, or have any Spanish blood. Second time that's happened on this trip. Then there were a couple funny men who just passed through and told me I have "American teeth". I said, what do you mean by that? and he said that Americans are known to take care of themselves "in the face". Hm. At least we have one thing going for us in the world.

Saying goodbyes

I'm sitting at Dunn Brothers between my best friend and my boyfriend, the two people who know me best in the world, waiting for my parents to come back into Lawrence so we can have a final lunch before they send me on my way. The anticipation for London is building up, and I'm pretty sure I'll be in denial that I'm going until I board the plane.

To pass the time I keep thinking about the hostel I'll be working and living at: www.ish.uk.org It's always a fun game for me to imagine small details of places I'm about to see for the first time, like what the desk will look like, who I'll be working with, or what the bar downstairs is like. The rooms are always empty in my imagination, though I'm sure they'll be buzzing at all hours with different languages and laughter. It's hard to believe it's less than 48 hours away.

Had a going away party last night and saw a mix of people that hasn't been together in years, and it was so comforting. It was a gathering that was timely since it seems I'll be closing the Lawrence door for awhile. Hardly anyone lives here anymore that I went to school with. People at the bars on Mass Street are younger than ever, and I don't want to ruin my college memories by hanging on to a time that's passed and allowing the town to grow sour..not that that's something I could ever see happening in my crimson-and blue-tinted glasses, of course, but that's just how it goes.

Last post in the States! Next time I post I'll more than likely be sipping tea and munching on biscuits.

Preparing for takeoff

I'm T-4 days to London and my excitement for the next six months has shifted to anxiety. I almost feel like I'm watching activity around me throughout the day instead of living it. My life is packed into two suitcases and a backpack large enough to squeeze a person in. I've made lists of things to do before I leave, but my problem with lists is I lose them as soon as I make them. So now I have little scraps of paper floating around the house and if I'm lucky I can piece them together to make some sense of where my mind was when I wrote them. My bank account is already draining and I haven't even left the country yet. AND I went to the dentist today and have an appointment to fill two cavities tomorrow. Life is hectic right now.

But on another note, I was able to watch history tonight when Barack Obama officially accepted the democratic nomination for president. I think it will be one of those moments I remember for the rest of my life...sitting with my dad, watching the first black man become a step, albeit a large step, away from the white house. I'm looking forward to learning Brits' perceptions of the election. Last time I was there, the person I was talking American politics with thought all Americans backed President Bush's decisions and thought Iraq was justified. Ha.

Off to sleep before another day of organizing.