London and fairy paths

London is a very big city, but I never feel intimidated by it, like I do New York. I've tried to rationalize my comfort in London and nerves about New York, I think maybe it is the skyline. New York's buildings are overwhelming you can only see the place where you stand, in London you can see out beyond the street your looking at or peek down the river way and see Big Ben. I'm not quite sure if I'd want to live in London permanently, I think I would prefer more country, but I would like to live there for a while at least. Today we went shopping at Portabello road, which is dangerous for me, while I'm trying not to spend money. If you walk far down the street you get the best antiques I found a dress from 1910! Of corse this was drastically out of my price range, but it was beautiful. I also saw all of these military jackets, some looked like they dated to the Regency era, or I suppose it could have been the Boer wars, never the less very interesting. I had to resisting stopping at everything, and I only bought a sale dress for 5p for a friend.

I'm going back into London next monday to meet with a woman who is an expert on nurses in ww1. Today I went to Primart (aka my savior in terms of buying clothing) and bought some dress pants. I should study up before I talk to her, I'm always nervous that I haven't researched enough or am misinterpreting something, and eventually someone will call me out and tell me I have no business writing. I was thinking about that the other day, if I had to be something else other than a writer how I could be happy, and I'm still not sure if I could be happy.

I was talking to my professor about Americans and the separation between indoors and outdoors. Here people utilize the outdoors more and don't think about. We walk everywhere and in Oxford the city bumps into the country. On my last day of British Detectives we went out into the middle of the country and finally walked into a small hamlet, the houses had thatched roofs and wooden beams, and finally my tutor lead us into a country pub. The pub had a backyard that was gorgeous with gardens and shurbbery everywhere, it looked at lot like a fairy's nook and the location even was like a fairy path.I want to bring it home with me, I want to bring everything home with me, except the excessively startchy meals. Sorry for all the rambling. I'll write again tomorrow.

Things a very short prose

When I was young I had a sixth grade teacher( I was not crazy about) who told her class never to use the word things. That the word things was weak and not to be used in her class. One of my peers just got a review back from my Oxford professor who said, "please talk more about the thingyness of things." Well I guess everyone has their own style.

Faith

She spoke with her hands making pictures of her prayers begging the virgin Mary for a humanly need something only a divine power could cure. As I walked a long the pews and statues people stood humbly before the relics awaiting judgement or asking for an answer. The Sacre Couer is up at the top of hill over looking all of Paris, a relic itself secretly judging from its high place. The amount of faith the pilgrims who worshiped here had, made me feel like an outsider on my own faith, secretly watching their private prayers.
Faith it is one of the hardest virtues, if it is in fact a virtue. Faith is difficult, not just in religion; but in your self, in the government, and as I discovered this weekend in the transit system. The train failed miserably creating an intresting story. When leaving Paris for London we got on the wrong subway which took us out to a shady section of Paris instead of garde norde. When we finally got to garde norde after much panicking the security told us we were too late to check in. After some alarm and emotional outbursts... he gave us a ticket for the next train free of charge. When we arrived in London the subway we were suppose to take was closed forcing us to take a convoluted system. At Paddington station they annoucned the Oxford train would be leaving from platform ten, but after sitting on the train at platform ten for half hour they announced that this was a mistake and then we had to take the elven o'clock train. Faith in the trainsit...I'm losing it.

This brings me to another point of faith- faith in people. The people in Paris are notoriously rude; however I have trouble believing that about anyone before meeting them. I put a lot faith in asking direction and meeting new people. However before I left numerous people had told me if they were rude i should remind them "we saved their butts in world war 2", this was of corse last resort...and I never once had to use it. In fact the people were all very warm..if you attempted to speak the language, which I did horribly but eagerly. One of my friends had a pen pale in France and he met up with us, which gave me the chance to talk to a local. He was very nice and spoke english well...my french on the other hand... But I had a lot of friends with me to interpret.

The city is gorgeous, when you walk along the Siene there are all these little stands set up selling art and trinkets. The area I stayed in was called Momarte it was where all the artist use to paint, and many still do, we walked through a section of all painters working on different pieces. I must confess that my favorite was along the Siene though, that is where Hemingway writes about. I was able to into the bookshop where he bought all his books, although in those days it was more like a book swap library. The topic of Heminways brings me to my last point on faith. Faith in ones self. I think this may be the hardest kind. Yesterday I got an email from a professor who read an excerpt of my book. It was pretty brutal she said I wrote too old fashion and it was distant. And that I wrote like Hemingway, but she didn't care for Hemingway. I love Hemingway's writing this I know and will not be swayed, I admire his style though never before has my work been compared to it. And when I was walking up to Shakespeare and co. I felt as though I was walking up as a writer, a new writer, yes, but I did not feel like I was an imposter. I felt like I was where I was suppose to be, and discovering new place where people of my kind had been coming for a very long time.

Distance

Muffled voices and frozen screens makes one feel very far far away. My skype connection is faulty at best- I can't seem to get a non-pixilated picture of anyone up. It is trying to show me the distance between Oxford and the Boston- here and home. I guess it is over 3,000 miles or so and skype is just letting me know. Although even my in country skypes are interrupted by bad connections. Oxford likes things to be very pretty and look very grand, but i have found the technology lacking....

Besides the distance there is also time to consider, time makes you feel far away- the empty space of time with you gone. My father has told me about a dozen home improvements he hopes to put in. In a way it is as though no time has changed when I hear my father stop talking about one of his many projects then I can start to feel far. But that is just physical things doors-pools- I'm sure there are a lot of other changes that have happened between me and the distance. My friends back home seem distracted on skype they are far, in miles and thoughts... but then how can you be on the same wave length this far apart? I'm not sure if conversation waves can travel that far...

In the meantime I have my own changes. I have my lovely sixteen pages to finish before Paris and two books to read, how these small details of my life will change me I do not know, maybe they won't. I bought a new dress today that was out of my budget, but my mother has been encouraging me buy it because I won't get another chance. It was a fun shopping excersion with one of my friends, we had both set up the afternoon to do papers but we took off and bought dresses instead. It was high table tonight so we felt justified in out decision; at least we had an occasion to wear the dresses. I should get working but it's doubtful at this moment. I miss my family, but at the same time I don't know if I can leave England in three weeks, it is one of the most beautiful places. I'll write again tomorrow.

He called out to me in his Dickion's style voice, and I could not help but think of little Jo from Bleak house. It was corse, but in an odd way proper, calling me miss and blessing me. He sat by the entrance to an Oxford college with his little dog, the gates he probably never breeched. He wanted a pound fifty, and I didn't give him a pent, but when he blessed me I couldn't help but cringe. Of corse we are taught that we can't give every time and to walk past, but I still don't know... And his dog, that brings me to another point, many of the students here think its atrocious that the homeless people here have dogs, but I still cannot decide weather everyone needs a companion. As Sir John says company company where would we be without company? And to be perfectly honest I don't know. Humans need a connection with some other living being weather it be another human or an animal it's deserved, no it's a necessity. The poor little dog must have had flees for it was tossing about on the side walk with an itch. It looked well fed though. I don't know I always rationalize people before animals.

I did most of my paper for Reading Jane Austen today. I came to the realization that I had a weak/minimal thesis, very bad start. But I think I have one now; that passion is not driven only by romantic love, but also by passion for wealth, sex, and society. It is the broadest I could get with still having a direction. I will write more tomorrow sorry this blog did put in much of my day.

Dyrham park

"The fields of the county could trick anyone into thinking that the green could go on forever, she once believed that the green could last and the ground would never go brown...I wrote that line thinking about Dyrham. I was able to revisit Dyrham park today, my favorite place in all of England. It does make you think that the green could go on forever, that there is nothing beyond it's cradling hills. I woke up at six thirty to catch a seven thirty train (this right here shows you how much I love Dyrham). Then I switched trains at Didcott where there is a large power plant, and finally road to Bath where I grabbed a cup of coffee then walked to queens square to grab the Dyrham bus. The free bus means that you are stuck at Dyrham from opening to close...but at the same time that is what i love about it, there is no hurry all your work is set aside to just be, and excist in this beautiful place.

I met a few deer who were only about thirty feet away from me. If you stay very still they come closer and closer testing their boundries. At one point I looked up at the deer standing only a few yards from where I was sitting and she looked up at me with a human like gaze then went closer and continued eating. I was able to write a bit on top of a hill to the left of the house, but I would like to go back to write the last scene of the book...when ever that happens to come, my word count is getting out of control but these are things to think about later for now I'm just focusing on writing it.

I wondered around the gift shop and bought my mother some strawberry jam, because the strawberries here are so much better than the ones at home and jam is the only way I can logically bring her home strawberries. I missed having my mother today last year it was the two of us at Dyrham...but it was just me today. I should probably go to bed. Tell me what you think of the picture I put up. Dyrham park has a photo contest not sure if it's over but if not I was thinking of submitting, I'm not much of a photographer but I like this one.

Quick blog

The bells chime from the college clock at every hour of the day. When your walking through the golden light of day it reminds me of the a church service blessing the city. When the clocks chimes at 2 in the morning, 3 in the morning-warning you to sleep when your tossing and turning the clocks are not so blessed sounding. Last night I tossed and turned until after three and slept through breakfast. It makes me nervous to sleep tonight or rather not be able to sleep tonight.

Tea and coffee has gotten me through every day here at Oxford. At three everyday we all take a break from home work, skyping, or any other activity and go to tea. We sit in the grand hall (aka the dinning hall) and have tea and biscuits(aka cookies). It's a relaxing time to talk about travel plans and essays. I try to get to tea early to have the milk chocolate top cookies.

I finally have my paris trip all booked chunnel and hostel. Apparently we are stay in the artisty quarters. My big plan is to go see all of Hemingway's old hang outs. I want to soak up all the writer juices in the air. I should go because it's well after midnight!

Knight of High table

How many times can you say you had an intellectual conversation(or at least he was intellectual) with a man who has been knighted by the queen for his work in poetry and education? There was no pressure to keep up the social ettiquite or anything....Seriously though he was very laid back and said he preferred not to use the title. Tonight was high table dinner and it was my turn to sit at the high table with the speaker Sir Christopher Ricks, fortunately i was seated right across from him and was able to talk to him for much of the night. I was able to discuss my book and how to go about writing of others pain, he said that you cannot feel the pain of others because it is their pain- your characters pain, but there are ways to convey others pain. He told me some of his stories and his old army stories after we talked about my book. Despite my nerves I was able to enjoy the conversation. After the lecture we all went down to the beer cellar and bought me a ginger beer. It was an amazing night, even if the word amazing is not very intelligent sounding.
I have a lot of papers ahead of me. They are a bit daunting and my professors keep stressing the difference between american and british papers. I'm nervous that I'm not original enough for either class, which is stressing me out, but i'm really interested in my topic for british detectives. We'll see how it goes, if anyone has literature on how Doyle uses the exotic send it my way. I've found a few things thus far but i need more! Ps this picture is not from today but i thought it looked regal like high table...

Life, picnics, and literature

Running is one of the many things you can complain about doing in many cities, but not in Oxford where your eyes are constantly distracted by the professors passing in scholarly capes or the ornate carvings in the buildings. Your body forgets that you are working because your eyes have already become a students of the surroundings quickly picking up little details. I went on my first run in months, it was short but I was surprised how easily it passed. I thought I better go running after the college cookout (which we have every Sunday night). Today was relaxing I did a lot of reading and went to coffee shops and cafes with some people that I have just started to hang out with. Most everyone in the program are open and want to meet new people, and many are also in to literature!
Yesterday I explored a new college with Marissa. We went to Magdeoln college where C.S Lewis went, they also happen to have a deer park. Trinity is gorgeous, but some of these other colleges are so grand looking.
Last night was one of the best since I arrived in Oxford. We began the night with a picnic in the Oxford park, for which I bought a bottle of cider for 1.79lbs. Then a group decided to do this literary exersive while drinking, we each wrote a line of poetry then passed in on, but we folded the paper over so that you could only see the line of the person in front of you. It was great being surrounded by people who were so interested in writing. The poems were ridiculous...yet many of them connected quite well. Apparently it is a surrealist idea that if people write together like that their thoughts are on the same wave length..interesting. In fact it was proven true a few times last night. After we went to a bar, then the guys from our group found a person handing out free passes to a club. We went down the road to a basement club. It was great because everyone was dancing. I met a british guy who was in the air force and we dance and talked for a while about england ect.. it was fun talking to a local and he was very nice. After we got back and I skyped Rachel for a while, she has a short break from her Madrid people.
The world cup is on now so I think I might head down to the beer cellar for a while!

The train stations in London have a grand feeling; making one feel very small. I feel like I am going back into time with the Victorian style dome; then when I walked into the city I'm transported into this very posh modern place with billboards and traffic. Today began with a stop to Westminister Abbey. I sound like a historians nightmare, but I just love putting my hands on old artifacts it makes me feel like I'm somehow connected to the past. Every wall was built over 700 years ago, I like to image different people making their way in and out of the Abbey what sort of occasions took place there; coronations, baptism, marriages.
After a group of us walked up to Trafalgar square to grab lunch. We ate an Italian restaurant which was relaxing, but we ended up getting charged 10lbs for bread! After I was determined to go to the imperial war museum to see the World War 1 exhibit. It was a hot day in London or rather for London (considering back home is 20 degrees higher), and we had to do great deal of walking to get there. I felt like I was dragging everyone all over the city to find it. Eventually we did find the museum and I was able to see the trenches and uniforms which was exciting! I ended up buying a set of replica iteam;s such as Wilfred Owens medical records and a newspaper from Armistice day. I also got a book of Poems from WW1, they were gorgeous, but also incredibly sad. If anyone is interested in some great WW1 poetry I found a few that really struck me. I am always questioning how to go about portraying that generation in my book, I think it is one of the most complex groups of people; wedged between two distinct eras, but with its own personality.

I think I'll do a little reading before bed. I'll sleep well tonight it was a stressful day.

Every room is different and unique at the college some are closet size others, are like palaces. Today we all cogrigated in a dorm that resembled a great gatsby flavor. The walls were dark paneled and we all sat around drinking pimms.I feel like Gatsby needs to walk out of one of the doors with his idlic white suit and offer us a cigar. It was a good way to de-stress after an agrivating day. I've been trying to plan our tip to Paris, but everything seems so complicated in booking and getting everyone settled on a place and time. Although I'm sure that the classes will have their fare share of work I love the method of learning over here; rather than an emphasis on grades the tutor want you to analyze and discuss. In both my classes we have amazing discussions and everyone takes the readings outside to dinner and pubs and we discusses Jane Austen or Sherlock Holmes, it has this amazing feeling of being right at home where I should be.

I've been able to do my writing over here too, that helps most homesickness. Writing is like meeting with an old friend every night and seeing the most wonderful movie together, weather that statement makes sense may depend upon the amount of pimms I really did have. Tomorrow off to London! I am going to the typical sights, westminister, the London bridge, and I have added to my list the Imperial War museum for research. Apparently it has an exhibit that is a trench, this should help my descriptions and images.

Last night I was cooped up in my college library reading Sherlock Holmes. Despite the fact that I had to read over a hundered pages I was content. I kept looking up at the Cathedral ceiling and the dusty old books and thinking how at home I felt. I choose cubby 19, with out even knowing it. I'm still trying to figure out the significance to the number 19 in my book, but it is certainly a reoccurring number. If you have any ideas let me know! Well London tomorrow better get to sleep!

Posh Pimms

Oxford is mounted in traditions, we ceremoniously refrain from stepping on the grass, or wearing hats into the great hall. And tonight I was able to partake in one of Oxfords most famous traditions- high table. High table is a dinner in the great hall which is lit by candle light and everyone wears their best clothes. There are about 100 different literary allusions you could make to high table, you could call it dinner at Hogwarts or dinner at Lady Catherines, and you would be correct something about does seem fictional as though you were walking out of an 18th century novel. Perhaps Oxford is just the place for making a novel out of your life.

Before dinner a garden party took place and we were served Pimms a kind of lemonade gin combo that is popular with the British for a summer treat. There was of corse water and orange juice, but most of the group indulged in our pimms. The tutors came to the party and I was able to chat with my Jane Austen tutor. The lawns at Trinity remind me of Alice and Wonderland, especially since there was a crocaqe set on the lawn. After we went to dinner and were served 3 corses including duck, and cremedlcreme with pop rocks (an odd combination). After dinner the whole group went to the pub where some nice British guys introduced me to cider and bought me a half pint which i conveniently gave away having too much of my share of alcohol. My coke spilt during a picture and one of my friends from the program generously bought me another drink... Well I guess i got to try lots of different drinks despite my objections. When I got back to my room I skyped friends and family home, I guess it's about a hundred degrees there and seventy here, lovely! I miss everyone but Oxford is an amazing city and the people I am with are so easy to warm up to. As I end every blog, I'm heading off to sleep write tomorrow!

Snip Snap GInger Beer

Class started today. Reading Jane Austen took place in my professors office that was cluttered with book. It gave the authenitc feel of an Oxford class. We spent and two hours discussing Northanger Abbey and all of Jane's different perceptions and misperceptions. It's heavenly falling into a world where I get graded for reading Austen.

We went out for drinks at a local pub that my tutor/professor suggested. I tried ginger beer it was delicious! Like grownup ginger ale just like I capture the castle said it would be. The pub was cozy and a group of my new friends all sat around and discussed our lectures and travel plans. It is comforting to have friends in a foreign place, if you have friends you are suddenly a local even if you are a bunch of Americans... it lets you blend.

London on Friday unfortunately the hostel we wanted to stay in is booked and our backup does not have enough beds... we are thinking of making it into a day trip then heading up to Cambridge on saturday. Lots of freedom to roam. I should go I have so much to read and it's getting late!

The stair case in the hall way looks like an old Abby that creaks with each step. It makes me walk a little faster up the stair to get to my lighted room from the lavatory. I've been reading Northanger Abbey for the last three hours which has certain influenced my opinion of the staircase. Catherine's room in the Abbey is described very similar to mine with a sitting room and an ancient wardrobe. The gothic feel is increased by my wardrobes tendency to creak open by itself...I think it's just from age, I am going to ignore the fact that trinity college has a ghost tours sign right out front...I need stop reading Northanger or I'll end up like Catherine!

Went on a country walk today through meadows and wild places in Oxfordshire. While we were walking we stumbled up the ruins of an old abbey. It was interesting because it was untended and open, apparently that is where King Henry 2 met his mistress. I love just stumbling on something so old. Eventually we came to a little village with only two shops, but one was sold out of sandwiches. We ended up eating in the place with no sandwiches and had cake for lunch in a garden. Afterward I went grocery shopping I felt like a local for a few minutes until the woman asked me if I were a tourist...I said I was a student it sounds much more official. In fact we have tourist at my school who pay to walk on the grounds and take picture of my quad.

Went out to buy coffee with Anne Caroll so we could study in a coffee shop, but all the coffee shops were closed except one which of corse over charged us and the woman was extremely rude. When we asked her about all the left over goods and if the prices went down 5 mins before closing she said "DO you have a problem?" Also was charged 3pounds for a coffee! They are not getting my business. After this I got us pretty lost trying to find the boat yard but it is nice because it stays light until 10 so we could see where we were even if we didn't know. We eventually found our way back and ever since it has been Northanger Abbey reading. I start class tomorrow my class is at queens college which is exciting because it means i get to explore a new college (not New college just a new college). I should go to sleep it is past 12 here and we have another 8am breakfast! Well at the meeting they said it would now open at 730 if we were so inclined..yikes no I'm good with 8. Write tomorrow!

In Oxford!

England looks like a giant quilt. When you fly over the countryside all you see is the patch works of green fields seperated by the thread of hedges. Each field is a different shade of green, some yellow green other dark forest green, but they all blend making a quilt of England. Oxford is neither city nor country, or maybe I should say Oxford is city and country, the main streets are bussling with tourist and workers, but a ten minute walk will take you to open fields and rivers.

I'm all settled in my dorm in Oxford, but it's more than a dorm it looks like a palace room. I get my own sitting room with two bay windows and the celings are about twelve feet tall.

I went exploring Oxford with some people I met today. We had lunch in a little cafe that looked quaint; I don't think our waitress enjoyed our presents as much as we enjoyed our lunch. After lunch we went exploring and got lost to find things. Eventually we ended up on the river and watched people go punting. We sat on the docks and I cleaned my feet in the dirty water. All the families seem to be so close here doing outdoors activities together. I love hearing the children with their accents, they sound so proper.

Tonight my group is going out to a pub in town, which is good because there is a wedding going on in the dinning hall, which also happens to be my building. I can hear the guest laughing and making speeches. My room over looks the quad so I have been watching all the guest come in with their elaborate hats. I have to go but I'll leave you with an image the view from my room.