Three Month Anniversary

Tonight I will fall asleep spooning a stack of research books, as I do most nights these days.  They don't exactly hug the curves.  I am exhausted but I feel the need to share a bit before drooling onto those dogeared, highlighted pages.  The day I read about the IR program at Regent's I began crying.  I couldn't help it and I couldn't stop.  For that brief moment, time seemed to rip open just wide enough for me to see my future-self walking around the streets of London; absorbing the culture, the sights, the sounds, the (often unfortunate) smells.  I watched myself splash through puddles in my Wellies, cuddle up in a coffee shop, and beam in awe and gratitude at every person I met because surely they were part of the mysterious fabric of life that ultimately allowed me to live out my dream and move to this fabulous city.  I knew with no hesitation or doubt that I was looking at my future and yet I couldn't fathom the thought of being so incredibly lucky.  And lo the tears did come.  I cried many times between then and the move as well out of frustation, fear, anxiety, excitement, anticipation, loneliness, nostalgia, and love.  Yet every moment of panic and dismay was worth it.  I still find myself hoping that this is not all a complete mind trip.  That I am not, in fact, moments away from a 5am wake-up call reminding me that I am three snooze buttons and ten minutes away from a long, snowy walk to Trax, which I will take to a job where I quite literally plug myself in to the corporate machine to make money for the rich and apologize to the poor for their bad luck.

Because of the wonder that is the universe, I met amazing people who linked me with incredible opportunities (you deny this but you know who you are).  As I sat in class today I found myself unable to express just how much I love what I am doing.  Not to say that I know how to do it most of the time.  I feel overwhelmed by how much I need to catch up on to get where I feel I should be at this point in my life.  But ultimately I know that I have found what it is that makes me tick, makes me think, makes me happy.  Looking back I don't know how I didn't figure out sooner that I was born with a bent toward sociology and anthropology.  Perhaps it is because I am good at math and I do have a math mind (I like real, solid, true, knowable answers) that I found myself drawn to numbers all those years.  I should have taken a hint when I came across my elementary school report cards a few years ago.  Every single teacher, and I mean EVERY one in EVERY term said what I good student, sweet kid, insert complimentary comment here, I was but that I was "too social," "too talkative," "overly chatty," and the like.  Couple that with the fact that EVERY job I have ever worked at or applied for has been in customer service and you would think I would get the picture before now.  But no.  This morning was the first time that I really acknowledged the fact that I am made to be social and study the social aspects of life.  It is simply who I am.

With the short duration of this course I know I will inevitably lack the time to fully delve into every class with the rigor and depth I wish for.  However, in just ten weeks I have learned so much about areas of research that tackle questions I have had all my life.  I am suddenly in this incredible community of professors, researchers, and fellow students where I feel I truly belong.  I am no longer listening to rich, young things discussing the ways in which we can rebrand a company to appeal to a new demographic or calculate the future value of a company to determine whether an investment is profitable.  I can now discuss the the importance of water rights in terms of power and politics, and theories of identity development in post-colonial nations and it's impact on ethnic conflicts.  And that makes all the difference.

Another Classic

We are the Village Green Preservation Society
God save Donald Duck, Vaudeville and Variety
We are the Desperate Dan Appreciation Society
God save strawberry jam and all the different varieties
Preserving the old ways from being abused
Protecting the new ways for me and for you
What more can we do
We are the Draught Beer Preservation Society
God save Mrs. Mopp and good Old Mother Riley
We are the Custard Pie Appreciation Consortium
God save the George Cross and all those who were awarded them
We are the Sherlock Holmes English Speaking Vernacular
Help save Fu Manchu, Moriarty and Dracula
We are the Office Block Persecution Affinity
God save little shops, china cups and virginity
We are the Skyscraper Condemnation Affiliate
God save tudor houses, antique tables and billiards
Preserving the old ways from being abused
Protecting the new ways for me and for you
What more can we do
God save the Village Green.

Taco Night!

When we were in Rome, Lindsey and I decided we wanted a day where we did absolutely, positively nothing at all whatsoever.  We were so incredibly tired of being tired and dirty (FILTHY actually, I don't know that a city has ever made me feel quite so gritty) and wanted a whole day of just vegging out and being lazy.  This Sunday was that day and it was spectacular!!!  I would like to report that we slept in but that would be quite the overstatement.  The previous night ended at 2:30 am Sunday and we woke around 7am (for those of you paying attention that was the same day).  Our first task was to make a big American hangover breakfast: biscuits, scrambled eggs with cheese and peppers, hashbrowns (that refused to cooperate which was sad), "bacon" or as close as we could find, and fresh-squeezed OJ.  

After our wonderful breakfast we spent a long time on the couch just chatting and planning our November challenge.  Last month was No Jeans October and laid the foundation for many ideas about what we could do this month.  The result: 5 hours of workouts a week.  Eventually we made our way off the couch and to the grocery store to get fixins for dinner.  We made veggie tacos that rocked my world. I quite literally lived in the taco afterglow all day today.  A.Maze.Ing!!!!!! 

Mind the closing Doors, Please. Mind the Doors.

I chose to reserve my judgements and refrain from posting on the British interpretations of Halloween until I experienced the holiday fully.  As it turns out, I was right from the beginning.  They haven't quite figured out the point.  I saw about 87 cats, 52 devils, and probably 156 dirty ho's but I think some of those might have just been people going out for the normal weekend.  We were the Underground lines: Circle, Northern, Waterloo, Hammersmith & City, and Victoria.  :)

From Left to Right: Waterloo, Victoria, Hammersmith & City, Circle, and Northern

Addendum Nov. 6th, 2010: The reason they suck at Halloween may be linked to the relationship they have with the 5th of November.  I'll let you decide. 

Flashback

I used to listen to these A LOT!  A chat today brought them back to mind and I can't get enough.  Enjoy!

Taco Bell Song

Ultimate Showdown