Opportunities, missed and created

I had a wonderful weekend, despite the fact that none of it was quite like I had planned.

On Saturday, I got up before the sun and was ready and waiting at the train station by 7:00, only to be told that the 7:21 train was delayed due to a signal failure. The next one wasn't scheduled until 7:51 and I had to meet my group at 8:00. Alas, I didn't get to go to Stratford-upon-Avon and Warwick castle. Considering how much I was looking forward to the trip and that it was the second time I've missed out on a CEA outing, it's surprising I didn't get more upset.

Fortunately, I've become quite adept at dealing with disappointments and making the most of a change in plans. That's exactly what I did. I got on the next train anyway, went to the Victoria & Albert museum for an hour (I absolutely loved the fashion and photography exhibits) and went to the Portobello market before it got mobbed. I bought some things for people back home, which really cheered me up.

Later, I met up with friends and we went to the Somerset House, a gorgeous riverside palace with a beautiful courtyard and fountains, and amazing (free!) art galleries which house some amazing Impressionist and post-Impressionist work. We then went to a highly recommended hummus restaurant, had a drink at the Dog and Duck -- one of George Orwell's old haunts, and finished the night with drinks at a trendy bar.

Not at all the day I had planned, but equally exciting and memorable. I'm currently working on scheduling a self-guided trip to Stratford with friends.

This next week is going to fly by. Tomorrow, in addition to class all day, I'll be meeting one of Alex's friends to see Sufjan Stevens. On Tuesday, I volunteer, have a presentation in my Popular Culture and the Media class, and will be seeing The New Pornographers. (Two great concerts back to back, I'm thrilled!) Besides volunteering, Wednesday is my least busy day. On Thursday, my sociology course is meeting at the London Museum. That afternoon, I'm leaving for Rome and will spend three nights there. I get back Sunday, just in time start another week all over again.

Yes, Rome. Did I mention I was going? It was definitely on my list of must-see places and I wasn't sure if I'd get to go because I couldn't find anyone who was free/interested/had the money. So, I took initiative and booked myself a plane ticket. I'll be going on my own, which will bring back great memories of backpacking around France and Spain. I can't wait.

I tend to do a lot of thinking, but I can't possibly figure out what I did to deserve all of this greatness. When I stop and think about it, it doesn't seem real.

The Somerset House, above. Soon, the fountains in the center of the courtyard will be converted into an ice skating rink. I watched the skaters there last year with Alex and loved it. Emily and I got tickets, and will join them on November 30. I'm really looking forward to it.

Surreal

I love London. Period.

Nikki and I had big plans to go to The National Gallery and Westminster Abbey today. We enjoyed the museum, but were dismayed when we arrived in time for Evensong only to be told it was cancelled for the evening. Not to be deterred, we walked a few blocks back to Leicester Square to look for something to do. We came across a big crowd and soon discovered they were congregating for the premiere of Shopgirl.

We decided to join the crowd and got to see Claire Danes get out of a chauferred car, sign autographs and pose for the paparazzi. It was completely unexpected and very exciting. We then had dinner looking out on the square, ran into Peter and Nick, and joined them for a drink at a classy pub in Kentish Town.

It wasn't at all the evening we had planned. I've gotten really accustomed to dealing with setbacks and looking at the bright side. As tonight proved, a change of plans isn't always a bad thing.

Apparently, I'm not meant to join the paparazzi forces. All of my pictures turned out grainy and Claire Danes is barely visible. I did get a shot of everyone else getting good pictures. Oh well. I'll write about the rich and famous instead.

A new lightness of being

Breathing in the cool night air, as completely and utterly content as one can be. Repeating the same mantra over and over in my head: This is life ... This is life ... This. Is. Life.

So little time

So many things to do. I enjoyed another Wednesday outing with Emily today. Despite many setbacks, we made the most of our day. After a visit to the Tate Britain and getting to Highgate Cemetery after it was closed, we returned to Hampstead (an area we both are absolutely in love with) and treated ourselves to a delicious dinner and fancy cocktails.

During dinner, we discussed all that we want to do and see before the semester is over and ultimately had to write it all down to remember. I worry that I won't have enough time to see and do everything I want to in London, much less other cities in Europe. As of right now, I only have one weekend left that I don't have either a trip scheduled or someone visiting me.

And, somewhere during all of my trips and sightseeing, I will manage to get some schoolwork done. I spoke to my parents this weekend -- it's been a while -- and I was updating them, separately, on life and what I've been up to. Each one said the same thing: "Good, but what about school?"

I'm finally beginning to have papers and presentations due, and schoolwork will begin to take up some of my time. Up until this point, Middlesex has demanded six hours' worth of class time from me each week, and not much more. Part of me wishes I were getting a more academically-demanding and challenging experience here. Then again, I realize that I'm probably getting a lot more out of having fun and traveling. Not everyone gets to spend five months of their life doing so. I'm a lucky girl, indeed.

I adore Emily, seriously. One day we'll get tired of being journalists and will each find great success as a novelist. Then, needing some inspiration and having money to spend, we'll both return to London. Emily will live in a charming flat in Hampstead, and I will finally buy property in Notting Hill. We'll carry on our Wednesday night traditions of museums and dinner and live happy, happy lives.

(For the time being, we're poor college students who are ever-grateful for the chance to study in London and are desperately trying to make the most of it. That means, conserving our money in whatever way possible. We do this by making purchases like scarves at places like ultra-cheap grocery stores such as Tesco. Haha.)

A good place

Walking to the library with leaves crunching under foot, the wind blowing harder, pulling my scarf a little bit tighter. Getting lost in a book, sipping steaming-hot tea, outside voices bringing me back to where I am. Riding the 121 bus, forgetting which side of the road is right and which is wrong, letting familiar neighborhoods pass by. Returning to my cozy room, chatting with friends and planning yet another evening, slipping into daydream as I gaze out the window.

So much of what's made me happy lately has nothing really to do with the fact that I'm in London. These things could happen anywhere in the world. Maybe that simply means I'm at a good place in life.

Things I'm looking forward to this week: visiting Shakespeare's hometown, my first London haircut, paying tribute to Karl Marx, starting a new book, Warwick Castle, Evensong at Westminster Abbey, quiz night, new museums, meeting Jen's parents, outdoor markets, retreating to a coffee shop and actually doing some schoolwork.

What I'm not looking forward to: being thousands of miles away for the birthdays of two of my favorite people in the world.

That's about it. Pro versus con, I think I'm doing pretty well.

They can't take that away from me

Yesterday I went to Harrods, where you can buy anything from a ₤1,000 Prada bag to an original Andy Warhol piece. The store is absolutely obscene in terms of prices and size, but is nonetheless mesmerizing. I found myself actually contemplating a visit to the shoe department, to see if they have a pair of brown boots that weren't too expensive. Hah. I'm glad I decided otherwise. If I started seriously looking at shoes, the clerks would take one look at my grubby Adidas and politely ask me to stop handling the merchandise. The point is, before long, you understand the lure of over-the-top fashion and actually respect (well, appreciate) a place like Harrods.

Afterwards, on a shopping high, I mingled with London's elite and curious tourists and went off in search of sales. Before any major damage was done, I snapped out of it and came to the realization that even a clearance on Brompton Road is still nowhere near my price range.

I strolled around Green Park for a while and before heading back to campus, I decided to visit Notting Hill. By the time I reached Portobello Road, it was dark and all of the street vendors were packing up and leaving. Since returning to London, one of my favorite walks is from the Notting Hill Gate Underground station to the end of Portobello Road, a route I took every day when I was here in December.

Notting Hill really is an absolutely charming area, more diverse than one would expect, and always bustling with people, no matter the time of day. As tourists with their arms full of purchases from the market were leaving, pubs and restaurants were beginning to fill up with locals. I love the familiarity of Notting Hill, and the memories it holds. Every time I visit, I immediately remember what it felt like the first time. Notting Hill was literally the first area I saw when I came to London, Portobello Road the first street I walked along in a foreign country. Being there reminds me of how lucky I am and how much I have to be thankful for.

I decided to walk to the Ladbroke Grove station, which is nearby Portobello Road. I turned down a lovely side street lined with beautiful townhouses, big by London's standards. I was immediately smitten and promised myself that if I ever became successful enough, I would live there. I'd already dreamed about living in Notting Hill some day, but that fantastic little street sealed the deal for me. In all likelihood, I will remain a hard-working and underpaid journalist for most of my adult life (which is fine by me), but, if by some random act of God, I hit the big time with a book or a few Pulitzer Prize-winning pieces of journalism, you'll soon find me in a charming little flat on Cambridge Gardens. (Yes, I looked the street name up. I am serious about this.) For now, I'm content with visiting and revisiting Notting Hill, enjoying the feeling it gives me every time.

I also went to a party last night, hosted by my friend Jason. I just realized this, but I was the only American there. The evening before, Jen and I were the only two Americans in a group of fourteen. A major goal of mine before coming here was to hang out with British students (or any non-American students, for that matter) as much as possible. Goal accomplished.

Getting to know you

I have a feeling that the best memories I'm going to have from London are ones that could have happened practically anywhere. It's the feeling of familiarity which I've, surprisingly, really enjoyed here.

Our team won second place (and ten free drinks!) at the quiz last night, and it was hardly different than trivia night at Johnny's Pizza. (Except the questions are harder ... at least for a foreigner like me.) During our night out, Emily and I wound up at a pub in Hampstead which was full of locals. We each ordered a pint and watched the football game, cheering along with everyone else. When I play with the kids at the shelter, I lose all concept of how we come from different places -- I could just as easily be working with kids from my hometown.

I guess it's nice to feel like I'm not as much of an outsider here. Yesterday I went shopping on Oxford Street with one of my British friends, and it was so nice to not have to look at a map or guess where this shop or that Underground station was. One of the things I most look forward to with having friends visit me is to be able to show them around, feeling like I really do live in London, even if it isn't for long.

I was planning on going to Scotland this weekend with a group of friends, but I would miss Jen's birthday, which I had promised to be here for. Instead, after celebrating with her tonight, I am planning on devoting one of my last free weekends to exploring London. I'm going to spend most of the weekend in the city on my own, visiting museums I've been meaning to, buying the first of many souvenirs for people back home, and figuring out what fun places I'd like to return to with friends. Even though I'm here for what seems like a short time, I want to know London as if I've lived here for years.

Warm Fuzzy Feeling

I attended my first volunteer session today, and I absolutely loved it. I'll be volunteering twice a week at local community shelters, basically playing with young children who live in temporary housing. Most of their parents are refugees.

The room, which was filled with about 25 toddlers and their mothers, was the most ethnically-diverse place I've ever been in. Many of the women did not speak English, or very little at all, and you had to admire them for wanting to be a part of the community and make the most of their situation. I'd really love to sit down with each woman and learn her story, how she wound up here in London. It would be fascinating.

Often when I'm around young children, I'm reminded of how innocent we all are born. It was especially apparent today, seeing how color had nothing to do with how the children played together. In my sociology courses, professors continually remind us that race is socially constructed and doesn't really exist. A lot of students seem to have a rough time grasping that concept. These kids completely understand. If only it would last.

So I'm filled with goodwill and inspiration at the moment. It's a good mood to be in, as I have an evening out planned with my lovely flatmate Emily. We're going to cast our vote for the Turner Prize at the Tate, try to find a particularly offensive and controversial billboard before it gets taken down, eat at a vegetarian restaurant, and top off the evening with drinks and conversation at a local pub.

Just in case you were wondering about the Turner Prize (I know you were), have a look-see:
http://www.tate.org.uk/britain/turnerprize/2005/

The Great Escape

This weekend was exactly what I needed. York is a lovely little town, exactly what I envisioned a tiny English city to be. Despite the hoards of tourists and designer shops, it seems like not much has changed in York for hundreds of years. Stone walls still surround the city, tea rooms are packed in the afternoon, and the church is still the most important place in town. Minutes before we had to meet at the train station, a few of us watched a ceremony of some sort taking place in St. Mary's Square. There was a group of schoolchildren being honored for something, all dressed in scouts' uniforms, and the pomp and circumstance of the entire affair made the moment seem timeless, as if it could have occurred 100 years earlier. (Yes, I took pictures. I was one of the annoying tourists that probably ruined the moment. I tried to be discreet about it, at least.)

I spent the entire weekend with Nikki, a pre-med student from San Diego who shares similar motivations and ideas about studying abroad as I do. We talked endlessly about a variety of subjects -- spirituality, cultural stereotypes, love, London -- and it was refreshing to spend so much time with someone who was genuinely interested in getting as much as possible out of her study abroad experience, rather than a good excuse to drink legally and party nonstop. Towards the end of the weekend, I also spent a good deal of time with Courtney, a dance major and another Middlesex student. The three of us plan on doing things together outside of program-sponsored events, which is nice.

I'm much anticipating this week, which makes me happy. I never quite figured out what prompted my conflicting emotions and bad mood, but they're gone and I guess that's all that matters. Back to making the most of my time here which, by the way, seems to be flying by really, really quickly.

Bad cold. I've been in all day, hoping to get better before the trip to York tomorrow.

I'm much looking forward to retreating to the countryside and getting to know some of the CEA students better. I feel like it'll be the right kind of mind-clearing getaway I need.

I still haven't figure out why I can't post pictures, but I made another webshots page:

http://community.webshots.com/user/findingme2

Enjoy. Keep in touch.

Cheer up, honey I know you can

I haven't written in a few days. That's not to say I haven't had a lot on my mind or haven't been inspired to write. Actually, my mind has been swimming with thoughts, and yesterday I retreated to a quiet coffee shop and poured out my feelings onto paper in a letter that I know I'll never deliver.

The reason I haven't updated is because I've posted somewhat basic updates thus far (This is what I did, this is what I plan to do, life is good) and have largely refrained from personal details or stark emotions, specifically negative ones.

I needed to update, however, and ultimately decided to share what's going on in my head.

I've been living a dream life lately, traveling to foreign countries, seeing amazing sights, meeting exciting people, being free of major responsibilities or worries. So it was weird when, for lack of a better term, real life hit me. Now that the adrenalin of traveling and meeting new people and starting classes has worn off, reality has begun to creep in. There aren't major things going on -- in fact, they're all relatively normal and mundane "problems" -- but, for the first time since leaving the States, I am faced with real-life problems.

I've been trying to figure out what's going on in my head, and I'm pretty sure it's a culmination of many emotions and thoughts and feelings, having been suppressed, coming out all at once. The thing about a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like studying abroad is that it's an absolutely amazing experience that one is expected to be nothing less than utterly grateful for. Therefore, feelings such as sadness -- or any negative feeling, for that matter -- seem extremely inappropriate and out of place. In addition, I normally don't like to burden others with my troubles, so I'm definitely not going to express such feelings to people I've only known for a matter of weeks.

I guess it was a given that, sooner or later, the weight of everything would become too great and I'd need an emotional release. I'll spare the details, for your benefit, and for my privacy. Basically, I feel confused and conflicted. I miss home, but I'm dreading the day I leave London. I don't have any idea of what would make me the happiest -- in terms of living, working and studying -- when I return. Right now, I don't feel like there's a particular place where I belong.

For the first time in a long time, I actually feel scared and unsure about my future.

---
P.S. Things aren't bad here -- I'm still having an amazing time and doing a lot. I saw a Jaws/Ghostbusters double feature in London, went out dancing with friends last night, arranged a meeting with a local volunteer agency, have gotten to know some British students much better, and am spending the weekend in York.

Oxford

Unlike the Stonehenge excursion, the trip to Oxford was a huge success. Emily, Karen, Christine and I (our fifth person couldn't make it, unfortunately) were dedicated from the start -- meeting at 8:00, standing in queue after queue trying to figure out where to buy tickets, and making the most of each situation. We made it to Oxford by early afternoon, and had a wonderful time.

I was struck by how well the four of us worked together as a group. For hardly knowing each other, we acted like old friends and amiably went from place to place as if we had been traveling together many times before.

Oxford is gorgeous, and worth all the hype. There are 30-plus colleges in the city -- I was under the impression that there was just the University of Oxford, and maybe one or two others -- and they're all fairly small, but boast beautiful, old buildings and world-renowned faculty members. Each school seems to house an impressive church and beautifully-maintained gardens. The streets are full of cafes and shops and the sidewalks are packed with students who happen to be a) overwhelmingly male (a welcome change from Middlesex) and b) extremely intelligent (well, possibly another welcome change from Middlesex). Needless to say, the four of us walked around exclaiming "I wish I were here ..." throughout the day.

We visited a number of schools, got a bird's-eye view of the city, shopped some, took a paddle boat around the river, had a traditional English tea with scones, and hit a pub before eating dinner and heading home. It was a wonderful day and despite a few setbacks like bad weather (big surprise, right?) and unexpected admission prices, we all had a great time. I look forward to coming back again before I leave and traveling more with the same group.

(For some reason, I'm having a terrible time uploading pictures. I'll work on it, but no promises.)

Divine Intervention

So I excitedly reserved a ticket for the Cheltenham Literature Festival to see Mark Haddon, one of my favorite authors tonight. Little did I realize that Cheltenham is a city in England and not the name of some festival in London. I discovered this too late, as it was 4:00 and it takes nearly 3 hours to get there via train. Oh well.

Danielle, the CEA London director, took us on a tour of St. Paul's Cathedral today. I absolutely love St. Paul's. When you leave the church, there are signs that thank you for visiting, hoping that your time there left you "refreshed and inspired" and encouraged to visit again. This being my second time at St. Paul's, I was happy to note that I'd still like to visit it as much as possible.

Beforehand, Danielle took us around The City, London's financial district, on a walking tour of notable St. Christopher Wren sights. My favorite was an old church which was nearly demolished -- all that remained were some old walls, and the interior had been replaced by a beautiful garden. It was an amazing little sanctuary in the middle of the city. To me, in a way, it seemed like God was more present in the natural surroundings than in some of the impressive churches.

After the tour and making the long trek to the top of St. Paul's, I separated from my group to find an internet cafe and get information on where to see Mark Haddon. Since the book festival idea was shot, I changed my plans and headed back to St. Paul's for Evensong instead. I was so glad I decided to return -- the service, which was free, was absolutely breathtaking. Being in such an amazing and historic church, in such an incredible city, witnessing such a beautiful service ... I was nearly moved to tears, again. I've never felt the same weakness in the knees and tingly-indescribable feeling since I was in the Church of the Holy Sepulchure in Jerusalem (and, yes, I realize how lucky I am to say that). For not being an overly religious person, I certainly have been blessed with getting the opportunity to visit some of the most incredible holy places in the world. Furthermore, for being somewhat of a skeptic, these places continually assure me that there is a higher being greater than us. I may not understand or know much, but of that I am sure.

Anyway, it was a perfect day. I was glad to spend some touristy time in London. Tomorrow, I'm visiting Oxford with a Belgian, an Icelander, an Italian, and another American -- a fabulous international group headed to a place I've been hoping to visit for some time now. Let's hope this excursion works out a little better than Stonehenge did.

Oh, and I took pictures! But, at the moment, I'm having trouble uploading them. Will come later.

Distance

Things haven't been that eventful in terms of outings or traveling lately. I went to Chinatown tonight, but that's been the extent of my London travels since the transportation nightmare. I have, however, been spending some quality time with people on campus. I went to a quaint pub Sunday night with my Belgian flatmate Karen and she and I shared wonderful conversation and a bottle of red wine. We've made plans to visit Oxford this weekend, which I'm much looking forward to. I've spent loads of time with Jason; last night I got to know quite a few British students really well; I seem to generally be more social and outgoing than I am at home. Already, part of me wants to distance myself from certain people before I really get attached. On the other hand, I feel like I should live in the moment, and not worry about the future. Three months is going to arrive really quickly, though, and I can't bear to think not only about leaving London, but leaving behind amazing friends, too.

This is all ironic, of course, because I was warned of this dilemma the first week I was here. At the time, I didn't want to hear it. I had just arrived overseas, and the next four months seemed to stretch out ahead of me without the end in sight.

I guess a reality check is bound to come one of these days. For now, I'm not ready nor willing to worry about it. For now, I'm choosing option B and living in the moment.

A series of unfortunate events

Today went from bad to worse. Or, at least, from annoying to overbearingly frustrating.

I didn't make it to Stonehenge. I left my dorm room at 6:45 this morning and didn't get into London until 9:00. First off, the train station was closed. No big deal. I took a bus to the Oakwood Tube Station, which also turned out to be closed. The Underground kindly provided replacement buses to Wood Green, the closest station that was operating. By the time the bus got there, however, it was 8:20, and the coach had already left for Stonehenge nearly a half hour before then.

Not to be deterred, I decided to make the most of the day and spend some time in London. Big mistake. I should have returned home and crawled back into bed. I spent as much time in the city (3 hours) as it took me getting home. The trip back to Middlesex was a huge mess. For some reason, multiple tube lines were closed and no trains were running anywhere close to where I live. After an hour of switching lines and figuring out routes around construction and delays, I made it to Wood Green where I caught another replacement bus headed for Oakwood. Almost there. I sat in the front seat on the top level of the double-decker bus, where I could see everything below me. Thus, I witnessed the car in front of us hit on the brakes and the collision that was caused because our driver was too slow to do the same. I nearly hit the glass and (in possibly the only lucky event of the day) I'm very glad I didn't--the entire windshield below was broken.

I couldn't believe it. I got off the bus, and headed towards the next closest bus stop while the other passengers stood on the sidewalk, dazed. Suddenly, another bus pulled up and everyone piled on, leaving me behind. So, completely unaware of where I was and without a map (who needs the A-Z in Stonehenge?), I stood waiting for another replacement bus and they kept passing me by. Then it started to rain. I was ready to cry from frustration.

Six buses and nine hours later, a very tired, annoyed, and cranky Katie is back, and has never been happier to be in her little dorm room. Guess who's going to the pub tonight?

---

Ah, but I did have a good time in London. I browsed through the Portobello Market, which is fantastic, and bought a 5-CD box set of classic jazz tunes for only ₤10. Even in U.S. dollars, I'd consider that a deal.

I also spent some time in Kensington Gardens and visited Pricess Diana's former residence. To add to the bizarre events of the day, I found myself in a situation where I kept beat on a park bench while a homeless man sang "When the Saints Go Marching In." We gathered a crowd, and I thought I was going to die of embarrassement. It's a long story, but a funny one at least.

This picture, taken in the park, isn't hearly as good as one of Stonehenge would have been. Oh well. It's been one of those days ...

Off to the pub for a well-needed pint.