Postings From Across The Pond

Final Post

2005-08-05T21:07:00.000+01:00

Well, I’m back in the States at long last. Actually, I’ve been back for quite some time, but have been prevented from putting up this final post by a cold I got on my trip home (not surprising, since my journey included an overnight megabus trip from Dundee to London followed by nineteen hours in airports and airplanes), and then by a weekend babysitting my little sister, and then a week trying to catch up with family and friends, and now a week in Traverse City, Michigan, with the extended family on my dad’s side, which has been an absolute blast and is now drawing to a close. (Three baby cousins make life lots of fun.)

My final few days in Europe, in case you’ve been sitting on the edge of your seat for the past month waiting to find out, were fantastic. I stayed at Sara’s house in Forfar with Hannah and Miriam, who came to meet me at the train station in some fantastic get-ups that looked like several circus clowns had held them at rubber chicken-point and switched wardrobes with them. We spent the afternoon at Glamis Castle, where we had the most fun taking silly photos out in the gardens. (Although the tourguide inside the castle did tell a story which I hypothesize J. K. Rowling might have used as inspiration in her books—about a woman who was killed by the castle’s owner and whose ghost is known as the Grey Lady.) The next day we went up into the glens for a hike along a waterfall, which was like something out of a fairytale. All in all, a wonderful weekend.

Another bit of drama I never did mention (preferring to let my parents hear it first from my mouth rather than my website) were my two excursions into the land of hitchhiking, which I would never have risked except in small villages in Scotland, and with great deals of caution. The first and more stereotypical instance occurred when we were trying to catch our bus to Crianlarich to catch the train to Mallaig to get a ferry to Armadale to get a bus via Portree to our hostel in Uig, on what you can see was a day of rather tight travel, and all busses out of Stirling had been Cncelled by the G8 riots. After Kate and I stood at various bus stops in Callander and had a number of passers by warn us that no busses were coming and suggest we consider hitching, we decided to try it, so I ran across the street for a black marker and Kate drew up a sign reading CRIANLARICH. After some clever comments from more passers by (“I’m just walking” and “You’ve got it spelled wrong!”) we were given a lift by a bicycler on his way to catch the very same train we were aiming for.Fortunately, we just made the train.

The second time was on our way back from viewing Loch Ness from the recommended vantage point of Urquhart castle, when I misread the timetable, had us waiting for a late bus back to Inverness which actually only ran on Sundays, and we ended up stranded in the parking lot with no more busses and no other way home. Luckily, there were a few cars parked in the lot, so we approached one of the couples taking a moment to take in the loch and asked if they were heading to Inverness. After some initial dubious hesitation, they turned out to be really sweet people from Minnesota who seemed quite thrilled to help us out, and who were, in fact, on their way to Inverness. So luckily, both instances turned out for the best.

And now, I’m back for another few weeks to see friends, spend time with family, spend ten days at Running Camp, and read loads of plays in preparation for Senior Theatre Festival next year. I’m also hoping to put together a Harry Potter book 6 discussion group sometime this summer—I attended a midnight release party with my little sister, which was great fun, and finished the book by the following midnight. (If you’ve also read it and are interested in discussing the book via e-mail or, if you’re in the area, attending the discussion group, feel free to shoot me an e-mail.)

And as a concluding post for my European Adventure, I include my list of British words and phrases for your perusal, which can be located either below or at Britishisms. Enjoy, and thanks for joining me on my journey!

Britishisms

2005-08-05T20:51:00.000+01:00

Food and groceries:
Cash register.........Till
Line up...............Queue
Shopping Cart.........Trolley
Saran Wrap............Cling film
Aluminum..............Aluminium
Cookies...............Biscuits (Only “cookies” if chocolate chip)
French Fries..........Chips
Chips.................Crisps
Zucchini..............Courgette
Eggplant..............Aubergine
Vegetables............Veg
Juice/concentrate.....Squash
Popsicle...............Lolly/Ice Pop
Candy..................Sweets
Jello.....................Jelly (Hence their perplexity at “peanut butter and jelly sandwiches”)
Jelly.....................Jam (They’d think a PB and jam sandwich was weird, too. Just don’t eat ‘em. Poor saps.)
Dinner.................Tea
Dessert................Pudding (As in “Are we having cake for pudding tonight?”)
Jam Pudding.......Roly Poly
Somersault..........Roly Poly
Roly Poly............Woodlouse
Ladybug..............Ladybird

Driving on the other side:
Truck...................Lorry
Highway..............Motorway
Trunk of car........Boot
Hood of car.........Bonnet
Gasoline..............Petrol
Parking lot..........Car park
Back-up noise...“This vehicle is reversing!”
Cell phone..........Mobile

Household words:
Apartment............Flat
Elevator...............Lift
Trash Can............Bin
Trash...................Rubbish
Restroom.............Loo/Toilet (And if you ask them for the “bathroom,” they look at you like you’re crazy)
Wrench...............Spanner
Flashlight............Torch
Diaper.................Nappy
Band-Aid............Plaster
Commercials......Adverts
TV......................Telly
Vacuum..............Hoover
Exit.....................Way out
Backyard............Garden

Clothing:
Sweater...............Jumper
Overalls..............Dungarees
Underwear..........Pants
Pants...................Trousers
Sneakers.............Trainers

School:
Professor..............Tutor
Study....................Revise
University............Uni (not “college”, and never “school”)
Math....................Mathes
H.........................“Heych”
Z.........................“Zed”
Period (.)..............Full stop
Datebook.............Diary
Delinquents.........Chavs/Townies

Games:
Soccer..................Football
Sledding...............Sledging
Clue (the game).......Cluedo
Where’s Waldo?.......Where’s Wally?

Fun Words to sound British with:
Lots......................Loads
Tired....................Knackered
Have a crush on..........Fancy
Fancy/uppity..............Posh
Sketchy................Dodgy
Overtly gay.........Camp
Red (hair)...........Ginger
Fight....................Row
Bad guy...............Baddie

Phrases:
Sleep in.............................................Have a lay-in
Make fun of......................................Take the mickey/mick (out of)
Make fun of (2).................................Have a go at
Don’t feel like...................................Can’t be bothered
Hi/What’s up?/How are you?...........(Are you) all right?
Thanks/hi/bye/all purpose phrase.....Cheers
What are you talking about?.............What are you on about?
Figured it out.....................................Sussed it
Catch on............................................Cotton on
Joe Schmoe.......................................Joe Bloggs
Half past five....................................Half five
I might. I might have.......................I might do. I might have done.
As if it was normal..........................As you do
Are you kidding? ............................Are you having me on?
A unique occurrence........................One-off
I don’t care.......................................I’m not fussed
Murphy’s Law.................................Sod’s Law

Words we just don’t use:
Spot on
Brilliant
Bloke/Chap
Quid (slang for monetary “pound”, as “buck” is to “dollar”)
Pardon? (Never say “what?” Incredibly rude, you see.)
Bless him
Cheeky

Scotland Update

2005-07-09T08:13:00.000+01:00

Saw Loch Ness yesterday. Had a good hard look for Nessie. May have encountered her, but am not at liberty to say.

Seven days to Harry Potter book 6, for those who are counting. Or, really, for those who aren't--if you are, you already know! I'm going to the midnight release with my 8-year-old sister, what about you?

Safe But Concerned

2005-07-08T11:17:00.000+01:00

For anyone who hasn't been keeping quite exact track of my whereabouts and was worried, I was nowhere near London yesterday morning. I was on a ferry from the Isle of Skye to Harris when we heard the news about the bombings, and are a bit concerned about our departure through the city on Monday, but otherwise ok. Also, of course, we're concerned for those who have been affected, and hope you will join us in praying for them and for the saftey of the city and the world over the next few days.

Turning aside for a moment from the mad things people can somehow manage to do to one another, we have been having a fantastic time in Scotland. We have noticed police in significant force in some places, especially Edinburgh, where a park was bordered with ranks in riot gear, and we heard stories of people being boxed into alleys to keep them contained, and riotting in Stirling disrupted our travel plans a bit by cancelling the busses we were trying to take. But so far our itinerary has continued relatively unimpeded, and has included such events as a ride along the West Highland Railway, as seen in the Harry Potter movies, and I even got my picture taken on the Hogwarts Express. Fun! Yesterday we went out to the Callanish standing stone circle, the largest in Scotland and very awesome, and also nearby two smaller circles which I got to appreciate in quiet and delighted solitude, as the wind swept over the foggy moors. We've met many wonderful people, and are excited for our last few days before our hopefully uneventful return to the States.

Last night we were excited by the presence, in our strangely deserted hostel, of a tv and a stack of videos, as we've been craving some cinematic escapism for quite some time now. We went to the video store across the street, bought several British chocolate bars, some takeaway Thai food, and rented Ocean's Twelve and Wayne's World, and changed into our pajamas, only to discover that the VCR had been broken. So we were reduced to watched bad British TV (the Bill, a cheesy cop show). Alas...

Harry Potter Experiences

2005-07-05T10:29:00.000+01:00

Waiting to check out of our Edinburgh hostel, and just wanted to pass along a few HP-relate experiences I've had, fr any of you joining me in counting down the days until book 6 (11!):

Took a double-decker overnight coach full of British folk of all ages, back to London. Knight Bus, anyone? They even served us hot chocolate and lemonade!

Was unable to make it through the ticket barrier to catch my train to school, and watched it pull away. (Ticket wasn't usable before 9:30, so the barrier wouldn't open for us...) Did NOT take a flying car there, instead.

Last night, sat in The Elephant House, the cafe where J. K. Rowling wrote the first book.

So fun!!!

Bonnie Scotland

2005-07-04T20:20:00.000+01:00

Back in e-mail contact after a week at a monastery in Taize, France, which was absolutely fabulous! A couple thousand people from all over the world meeting to pray and sing together and study the Bible. I got to say goodbye to all my dearly beloved Meeting House friends, and dd a lot of thinking, learning, and growing. Spent the last weekend staying in specil quarters with a few other girls spendng the weekend in silence, which was quite cool.

Now the Fox and I are in Edinburgh, about to begin our whirlwind tour of Scotland--our last country before returning home in a week! There's a bit of hullabulloo over here because of the G8 summit, but we should get out of its way tomorrow as we head off to emoter locations. Free iternet access here again, so exciting, but there's a bit of a queue so I'd best be off. Much love, and see those of you in San Diego soon!!!

Finally, A Real Update!

2005-06-24T17:46:00.000+01:00

Hooray for free internet! I can't quite tell you how excited this makes me! I do have to warn you in advance of a few things, though: (1) It's been a long time since I've written, and lots has happened in between; you may want to take this entry in in four to twelve separate sittings. Or prepare a few meals before you begin, to keep up your stength as you read. (2) I'm typing on a French keyboard, which has several key differences (ha ha, I hope you apprecited that pun) from the American keyboard; Chiefly, the A and the Q are transposed, as are the W and the Z, and the M is up next to the L. All the numbers require a shift (if you hit the keys without one you get the punctuation) and the punctuation is all awry. So if things look a bit funny because I miss a mistake or two, consider it a cultural experience.

And now, on to the updates! Looking back over my past hasty posts, I seem to have managed at least a general overview of our Greek adventure. One point I don't think I mentioned was how similar the climate and plantlife was to that of Southern California. (They must be on the same latitude, or something...) If you ignored the architecture, most of the time we could have been back in San Diego. Which was a bit trippy.

I also didn't get to very detailed descriptions of our fellow boat mates. The Canadian couples were fentastic! When they joined us at the table to await the arrival of our skipper, they announced "Your parents are here!" One of the husbands, Leo, was a carbon copy of that one actor from the Waiting For Guffman/Best In Show/Mighty Wind films--you know, the one with the blck hair ans the super thick glasses? And they really did say "eh?" all the time, and "aboot." Hee! Lorraine, the Puerto Rican actress, was quite a character--so full of energy and attitude. She led us in yoga on the beach, and spent much of the time we were sailing perched on the bow, wind and mist in her curly black hair. Kathy, the other canadian, was supercool, had what Kate describes as a penchant for souvenirs, and was taking seven weeks off work for her first experience of Europe. She hung out with Kate and I for a lot of the time, and joined us in enormous crepes, shopping, and scrabble at a Greek cafe, among other adventures.

Our few days alone in Santorini were also nice. By then we had definitely internalized the rhythm of the country, where dinner starts around 9pm at the earliest and can drag on for hours, which had sounded insane when Sotiris described it at the start of the trip, but by the end was a hard habit to break when we departed for countries with earlier bedtimes (or at least dinner times). We stayed in the hotel of this darling Greek couple with a 6 month old baby, who were so sweet we stayed for the full three nights we had reserved despite the fact that we spent the 20 minutes before bed our first night there scooping up little brown beetles from my bed and depositing them in the hallway.

We took an 8 hour ferry back to Atehns for a final night in Greece, exploring the agoras (Roman and ancient) and getting kicked out 15 minutes before closing time in the midst of a cacophany of bells and whistles (literally). That night we had a roommate in our hostel, who was described as "another American guy" at reception and turned out to be this middle-aged, highly excitable, slightly off-his-rocker middle shcool teacher from Miami who claimed to teach geography and world history but couldn't pronounce the names of the Eastern European countries he was going to visit, and had hung up, to dry, a tiny baby t-shirt and a pair of underwear, having been forced to buy the former when unable to find a washcloth at a local souvenir shop, qnd then accidentally employed the latter instead. He was just eccentric enough to have Kate and I a bit concerned about sharing a room with him, but when we went down to recption to request a swap we were informed, quite rudely, that the hostel was now full and that out options were to "take your stuff and leave or stay in the room". We did the latter, and aside from a nightmare Kate had that he was strangling her, all was uneventful.

The next morning we had a flight to geneva, which was only half of the return ticket on our flight from London to Greece. We were a bit worried by their initial hesitation to check our backpacks only halfway along our route, but we finally persuaded them to do so and were soon flyin over the alps nibbling swiss chocolate.

When we arrived at out hostel, we were warmly greeted and directed to the entrance by a Parisian guy named Adil who was working at the taxi stand next door. He offered to answer any questions we might have about the city, and ended up leading us on a three-hour tour of the city when we asked if he could recommend a restaurant for dinner. There turned out to be a crazy international festival of music and food going on all weekend throiughout the city, so we spent the night serenaded by all vqrieties of music and then the next day walking around looking at booths from all around the world and eating Angolan chicken and plantains.

Tyhe next morning, we took a series of trains up to the tiny alpine village of Lauterbrunnen, awhich Kate had visited last summer with her family, where we befriended the cool British crepe guy and slept in a hostel whose beds were arranged seven-dwarf style (aka side by side with no gaps between them; picture one long bed) with a bunch of Korean students and a rather creepy Swiss old man who wandered around while we were brushing our teeth cooking soup and muttering to himself in an unknown language. The next day we explored these awesome waterfalls inside the mountain, which had cqrved out crazy tunnels and were viewable via other tunnels. Then we took a gondola up to Gimmelwald, where we stayed at a classic backpacker hostel 5with, again, the seven dwarf beds), watched the summer solstice sunset tint the clouds and mountains ruby red, and stargazed in a hot tub while eating more swiss chocolate and discussing gender roles with two South Africans, a Georgian, a San Diegan, and a Norweigian. Amazing!

The next day we took a few more gondolas up to the top of Schilthorn and ate vegetable soup in a revolving restaurant with a view of most of Switzerland, and then went for a hike amidst wildflowers, waterfalls, and cows, snacking on crackers with authentic Swiss cheese, and then went back down to Lauterbrunnen for the night.

The next day we took five trains to get to Annecy, stopping for a few hours in Geneva so I could visit an ear doctor specialist to have my right ear vaccuumed out (did I mention my and Kate's adventure to find a hospital on our last night in Geneva before Lauterbrunnen, where we sat from 10:30 pm to 1 am to find out whether I had an ear infection and Kate had a virus?). And now we're in Annecy, in a hotel on a hill overlooking the city, right next door to a chateau which we visited this afternoon, and which contained exhibits of art and the animations of this french guy from the 70s, back when they did it all by hand. So cute! Last night we had spinach crepes for dinner, and a lemon and sugar one for dessert--yummy!

So, that pretty much brings us up to the moment, at which I stand in our hotel lobby, as I have for the past few hours, typing away, as thunder begins to roll in the distance. Tomorrow we're off again, to spend one night in Chqlon sur Saone before joining my Meeting House friends in Taize for a week's chilling with the monks. So my next post will probably either be from Scotland, or maybe Sussex as we pass through to pick up Kate's laptop, or maybe even not till I return to San Diego.

As a final note, can I just point out that Kate and I have taken to checking out our felloz travellers' backpacks like some people check out members of the opposite sex... Seriously, one of us will turn to the other and say, in a low voice, "Hey, look at that one." And then we'll both look over and groan longingly, and then look at our own pile of luggage (which, to give us credit, we have managed to handle so far) with quiet sighs, and vow that on our next journey our possessions will fit in our pocket. So, future travellers, although you hear it from everyone, be warned!

And for now, c'est tout!

Cue Angelic Music

2005-06-23T19:59:00.000+01:00

Kate and I have just arrived at our hotel in Annecy, France, after a long day of lugging our bags all the way down from the Swiss Alps, to discover the Holy Grail of European backpacking in the 21st century: FREE INTERNET! It's been a hot, sticky, and tiring day, so we're off to find some dinner, or ice cream, or something, but I have a sneaking suspicion we'll be spending a few hours on this puppy tomorrow to give our inboxes a good scouring and update friends and family about our whereabouts and recent adventures. Until then, ciao! (The universal European goodbye)

Leaving on a jet plane

2005-06-18T12:21:00.000+01:00

In the athens airportat a (free!) internet portal. Off to Geneva!

Having A Blast in Santorini!

2005-06-16T13:55:00.000+01:00

Those of you aware that santorini is an island now half underwater as the result of a volcanis explosion will be able to appreciate this entry's title's little pun. And as this is the last island on our tour of Greece, Kate's expression of hope that we will "go out with a bang" will hopefully not be too literally fulfilled...

But it's true, we two travellers are having a grand old time so far as we explore Europe and revel in the freedom of this time in our lives. Santorini is beautiful, of course--the site of most of the photos you see in the postcards--but really all the islands have had their own unique charm. We started off in Athens, and our boat trip took us to Poseidon's Temple, as well as the quiet island of Kythnos, where we sat in the hot springs and hiked up to a mountaintop village, the rather boisterous island of Syros, where we docked right into a harborside taverna where the patrons partied and smashed beer bottles (apparently) until sunrise, much to the dismay of the lighter sleeprs onboard (trained by my months living up the hill from the drunken revelries at East Slope Bar, I was out like a light from the moment my head hit the pillow), and the island of Paros, which Kate and I grew quite familiar with after several days of crisscrossing by boat, foot, and bus.

I wish I could convey to you the superb randomness of the conjunction of people who travelled together for that week on the boat. Kate's description of it as a game of CLUE approaches the effect. Our skipper topped it off, though--a tanned Greek man who hid behind his sunglasses for most of the trip in stoic silence, but when he did open his mouth it was to let loose either deeply philosophical musings on the nature of life and travel (examples: "There is no such thing as adventure, there is only trouble" "Convenience is always an enemy to learning") of hilarious jokes delivered in a deadpan manner and Greek acent which made them almost unbearably funny, and which no typewritten example could possibly do justice to.

Shoot, once again I've run out of internet time. But more stories shall follow soon, so please stay tuned. I love you all and hope you're well, and can't wait to return home and see those of you I have missed so desperately for the past six months.

Greek Island "Adventure"

2005-06-09T18:02:00.000+01:00

The "adventure" is in quotes because, according to our tourguide, there is no such thing as adventure--there's only trouble. this came out during the first night of our trip boating around Athens, during which he waxed philosophical on many matters concerning travelling over a dinner of various delicious Greek appetizers. We joined the yacht several days ago, along with a Puerto Rican theatre major grad student named Lorraine, a Canadian DNA-analyst named Kathy, and two older Canadian couples--Dan & Connie and Leo & Marylin. All of whom are absoltuely fantastic people. Our skipper, Sotiris, is also fabulous. We've been sailing around the Cyclades over the past few days to superb sunny weather (a bit toasty, but sailing along kicks up a nice cooling breeze) and eating delicious greek foods like tzatziki, gyros, feta cheese, greek salad, eggplant dip, etc. Having a wonderful time, and taking lots of pictures, which I shall try to post when I'm not on such a pricey internet connection. Will also hopefully post more updates and details at that time. much love!

The Great Adventure Begins!

2005-06-03T19:59:00.000+01:00

Kate Fox and I have set off at last for the final chapter in our semester abroad--40 days of travel around Europe! Today we made our way to Delphi to consult the oracle. Quite an adventure! Goodness, these posts might be quick until we get somewhere with more internet service. Until then, we're safe and having fun so far! Tomorrow--Athens.

Sigh of Relief...

2005-05-19T17:28:00.000+01:00

...as I hand in my final essays for the term--hurrah! That's three drama reviews, a six-page analytical essay on the structural use of the flashback in Dogs Barking and Top Girls, and a seventeen-page learning log for Creative Drama. Now all I've got left to finish off this term, academically at least, is a Metaphysics exam. Wow. The semester has simply flown by. Today is my day of rest, in which I think I'll start Harry Potter book five so I'll be all prepped for the sixth book coming out on July 16th! Toby has taught me how to bake a Yorkshire Pudding today, which is rather exciting. And last night, after a picnic dinner with the Skeptics folk, a few of us went to the fringe festival to see Bonnie In Brighton, a new play about an American girl who travels abroad and ends up living in Brighton for a year. Her experience differed just slighlty from mine, however, in a few small details, like her coming upon several thousand ecstasy pills and raking in thousands of pounds as a drug dealer, for instance. Other than that kind of stuff, though, quite apt. ;-)

Anyway, just wanted to let any of you who are still reading this thing in on my celebrations today! My friend Savannah, who is in slightly ritzier on-campus accomodations than I, gave me a congratulatory card today with a voucher for a relaxing bath in her flat's tub, complete with bath fizzies, candles, and a glass of wine. Fun. Ooh, I also did actual laundry today, another cause for celebration.

Oh, I did make it to that rabbi's talk on the Tprah perspective of free will, which was quite interesting. Learned lots of things about the orthodox Jewish belief system that I never knew. And the rabbi was quite a funny guy, as well. If you're interested, I'm happy to go into further detail.

That's all for now. Love as always!

Almost Done?

2005-05-17T12:17:00.000+01:00

Although I still have nearly two months before my flight back to California, there is a definite sense of drawing to a close about this week as I write my final essays to be handed in the day after tomorrow. This weekend my dad, Pam, and Allie fly over to visit for a week, and after an oral exam next Monday I will join them in London for sightseeing and theatre before a tour of Stonehenge and a weekend in Brighton. Then I have a few days to study for my Metaphysics exam, pretty much immediately after which I will depart from the University of Sussex, quite possibly and tragically forever, for a month of exciting adventures across Europe in the company of the Fantastic Fox, visiting such countries as Greece, Switzerland, France, and Scotland. So there is much in store for the next several weeks, after which I will most assuredly be ready to come home and relax amidst family and friends.

It's hard to believe I'll soon be leaving all the people and places I've come to know and love in my semester's stay here. Luckily, I'll get another chance to see the Skeptics folk when Kate and I meet up with them for the week in Taize. But my darling flatmates and pseudo-flatmates, it may be a long time before I ever see again. Alas! I will definitely miss this place...

In another hour I have my final class at Sussex. My essays are at the moment each about 2/3 done, and will be handed in on Thursday. The Brighton Fringe Festival has started up, which is quite exiting! I went to my first Fringe show the other night, entitled Death of A Tomato Salesman, in the company of my Metaphysical Materialist friend Justin. The show itself had potential, I thought--an interesting premise, involving a tomato-obsessed man who, following some unorthodox psychological treatment, went from believing that processed tomatoes (and I do hope, as you read this in your head or aloud to your imaginary friends (or mine...), you are not pronouncing the word, as you might be inclined to do, "tom-ay-toes", but rather, in the proper fashion, as "tom-AH-toes") were the only cure for the selfishness of mankind, to believing that they were, in fact, the original forbidden fruit which had first caused our sinful state. The acting and script were a little rocky, and there was far too much sexual innuendo for my personal tastes, but I count the evening worthwhile for the five-hour-long philosophical discussion the play initiated (rather unsurprisingly, actually, given the company), concerning contemplation on the relative merits of selfishness and selflessness, the concept of inalienable human rights, the criteria of justified belief, the proper meanings of the terms "true", "know", and "exist", and the wisdom or foolishness of various courses of action depending upon one's metaphysical beliefs. Which is, of course, always enjoyable.

That's most of the excitement of the moment. I've posted some more photographs on my parallel page for your viewing pleasure, which you can access, as usual, by clicking on My Photos. These mainly depict various fun group activities I've participated in over the past few weeks, as well as a couple of shots from my recent Creative Drama performance (which went splendidly well, thanks! We had a huge audience, and were really happy with our final performance. It was also quite cool to see what all the other groups had been working on.)

Well, off to work a bit on my essays before my final class (Writing For Theatre), a talk on free will by a famous rabbi, and Bible study this evening. Have I mentioned I'm going to miss this place?

Home Sweet Homestay

2005-05-10T12:59:00.000+01:00

There is something about being in a home, even if it isn't your own, which is incredibly comforting, pleasant, and utterly unlike that of being in on-campus housing. I've been trying to pinpoint the cause of this difference, and I think a lot of it has to do with the separation between living and working which a home allows but a campus prevents. When you live in university, you're always at work, you always could, and probably should, be working. So anytime you aren't, there's a mild feeling of guilt about it. Also, everyone you live with is also working all the time, so even when you're taking a moment off there's probably someone else nearby doing work. You can never wholly escape from it. While in a home, you have physical separation from the workplace, and functional separation as well. A home is designed for living, while campus accomodations are designed around work. For instance, in my flat our rooms work fine for studying but are nearly impossible to hang out with a group of people in, and our common area has a dining table suitable for a quick meal, but not enough space for everyone to eat together, and horribly uncomfortable chairs clearly not intended for an evening's social gathering. Also, at home there are usually people (perhaps your parents, or younger siblings) who leave their work behind and are able to do as they please in the evenings, so even if you have homework there are other people in the house who are relaxing, so there's an overall atmosphere of peace rather than productivity.

Ok, forgive the ramble. I'm just trying to get a handle on why it was so relieving to get off campus for a weekend to stay with a family, and why I'm really glad I'm living in an off-campus house next year (although Trimble suites, with at least one sofa in the common area, were a bit better). But aside from the general benefits of homes in general, the one I visited last weekend--that of Debbie and Steve Isaac in Petersfield, Hampshire--was a particularly nice one to visit. They had three kids: the oldest girl, Carly, is 17, and the twins, Hannah and Fraser, are 14. They were all incredibly welcoming, friendly, and polite, and accepted me into their lives immediately. The home itself was lovely, particularly the garden, which was absolutely stunning! It was a square yard closed in by brick walls and hedges, with a patio near the house. The rest was grass interlaced with twisting beds of flowers which broke the yard into winding paths. The flowers were gorgeous--tulips and others in a purple and red color scheme--and they also had a trellis with roses and a trampoline. Plus, they had sweet peas starting up as well. Add a hammock and a climbing tree and you've pretty much got my ideal garden. I ended up spending a good portion of the weekend when the rest of the family was busy just sitting out on the grass appreciating the beauty and serenity of it.

But there was lots to do, as well. When I arrived Friday afternoon, Carly and four of her friends were preparing for a fancy-dress rugby ball that evening. After we had seen them off to that, Debbie and Steve walked me into town and took me out to dinner. When we got back, we watched a rather odd reality TV show called Playing It Straight with Fraser as we waited for Carly to return with the gossip about the ball. Saturday morning Fraser and his friend Jess went over to the nearby town of Chichester for some busking (playing music on a street corner) to raise money for a World Challenge trip to Vietnam and Cambodia. So we went along to listen for a bit, and also visited a village called Bosham which was quaint enough to make you cry, and took a guided tour of Chichester cathedral. It was a gorgeous day of giant fluffy clouds rolling impressively across the sunny sky, and the countryside, all yellow with flowers on the rolling green hills, was so beautiful I thought I might explode. I could definitely live here, I thought.

That afternoon I accompanied Debbie out to visit her friend in the hospital (I sat on a hill outside and wrote) and to get some flowers from a plant nursery. We watched an elimination ballroom dance program called Strictly Dancing, and then Steve and Debbie went out for the evening and I spent some time with Carly, Hannah, Fraser, and Jess. We played pool and watched Cold Mountain, a civil war movie with Nicole Kidman which was pretty good, except for the implausible suddenness with which the main characters fell in love.

Sunday morning I got to watch some home videos from a trip the family took travelling all around the world for six months a few years ago, which were amazing. We took Fraser, Hannah, and Jess to tennis lessons, and then I walked around a lake right across the street from their house, in this gorgeous heathland that has been set aside as a public park. It had fields and trees to play in, and ancient burial mounds, and a playground, and tons of people out enjoying the morning. Yup, without a doubt I could live here.

That afternoon we went into town for the VE Day celebration, at which Jess, Hannah, and Fraser were playing in their school orchestra. It was the cutest little fair in the town square, with cotton candy and little rides and old army vehicles and veterans dancing with their wives in period costumes, and the whole town out to celebrate. What a wonderful atmosphere! We walked back home for a last cup of tea in the garden, and then, sadly, it was time for me to catch a train home. Indeed a wonderful and worthwhile weekend!

Oh, and don't worry, I learned from my mistakes with the trip to Rome and made extra sure I had brought along my camera. Unfortunately, I had neglected to charge it before I came, so it ran out of batteries the moment I turned it on and once again I was unable to get any photos of this fantastic experience. Alas!!! But perhaps I can get the Isaacs to send me some so I can share a bit of the experience with you all visually...

This morning I finally turned in the Matrix essay, which I finished last night and ended up being quite happy with. Thursday evening are the performances of our Creative Drama projects, so we've been working hard to get those ready. We got to see all the other groups' pieces yesterday, and they were all quite good, so it should be a fun night of theatre. And a relief to be done with them. After that, I have another week to turn in my last three papers, and then my dad, Pam, and Allie come out to visit for a week, which I'm incredibly excited about! Then only a Metaphysics exam will stand between me and a month of travelling Europe with Kate Fox. And then, I'll return once more to my very own home, and be quite reluctant to leave at the summer's end. Except for the excitement of the Ministry House, and the return to the UPS theatre world, and...

So it goes.

The Matrix Had Me

2005-05-05T11:27:00.000+01:00

Sorry it's been so long since last I posted. I have been deeply immersed in the writing of an "essay" for my science fiction class. We were given permission to do something more creative to fulfill the assignment, and I decided to do something I've been wanting to do for a long time, and rewrite the second and third Matrix movies. Which has been a fun process, allowing me to gain an even deeper appreciation of the first movie and its many layers and complexities, and to do some creative writing in the process. At the same time, putting together the plot of two entire movies, while attempting to remain true to all characters and principles established in the first one, has been quite a complicated and time-consuming process, and there have definitely been moments when I wished I had just chosen some boring but simple traditional essay topic. Anyway, the thing is nearly done at last (just have to go through and cut out 700 words, and write a 300-500 word autocritique) and soon I shall be unplugged once more! Or at least, released into a wider Matrix of the remainder of my essays and projects for the term.

The time over the past week I have not spent working on the Matrix sequels has mostly been devoted to rehearsals for my Creative Drama project, which is the group performance I've been working on for the past few months, and which we perform a week from today... (yikes!) It's been a rocky process, as we usually start each meeting by tossing out at least 50% of what we did in the last one. But what we have kept has become increasingly honed, and I think by the time we finally perform it we will have a piece we are all quite proud of.

This weekend I will be in the neighboring county on a homestay, which should be quite exciting. And towards the end of the month, my Dad, Pam, and Allie will be coming to visit! Hooray! A few days later I'll have my final exam, and then it's off to Greece, Scotland, and Taize with the Fantastic Fox! And then back home... When put that way, it seems like my time here is almost over, but there are still over two months to go. Wow... I just tallied it up, and the total number of days I'll be home over the summer is a mere 24. Which I'm sure will be nowhere near enough... Life rushes on, doesn't it? Ah, well. I wish you all love and joy and a few of those moments when time stands absolutely still.

Procrastination Post

2005-04-23T14:39:00.000+01:00

The funny thing about procrastination is that putting off getting things done only makes you less disposed to do them with each passing moment. If you start things way early, you know you have plenty of time to do them, so they don't stress you out, and you just get them done for the sake of having them out of the way. But if you put something off until the last minute, then you know that the moment you do start thinking about it you'll have to face the stress of the imanent deadline, and so you continue to do everything possible to delay that moment of confrontation. For instance, write lengthy didactic paragraphs exploring the nature and ramifications of procrastination on your weblog when you really should get started on that 2000 (or is it 3000?) word essay that's due in science fiction this Friday.

And really, I should be excited about this essay, because my tutor has given me permission to do it in the format of a movie pitch for the second and third Matrix movies, making the highly desirable assumption that the travesties which call themselves those sequels had never been made. Which is something I've pondered before and have a great deal to say about. And if I knew I had a few weeks until the thing was due, I'd probably be jumping to get started on it. But since I've left it until a week before, I've instead spent the morning I set aside for writing the paper cleaning my room, washing dishes, organizing my journal, answering e-mail, and now, writing in my weblog, in order to avoid commencing. Alas.

While I'm here, though, I'll briefly summarize the things I've been up to in the past week since I descended from my month-long Easter vacation back into the midst of classes, essays, and reading. The weather has been ridiculously summer-y, and since once again I'm in an area where sunny days are few and far between, the sunshine-glistening afternoons have been fully exploited by the student body, which has seized every excuse to spend time outside studying, socializing, eating, drinking, walking, etc. I have joined in this process to a large extent, sitting out on the hillside outside my window to read and write and watch the sunset, taking an exploratory walk with Justin (on which we met a herd of cows and got into a lengthy discussion on language, intelligence, and the difference between humans and animals), taking this week's book discussion group onto the lawn outside the Meeting House, and taking two days to go into Brighton and augment my wardrobe in preparation for the summer, as I brought mainly winter clothes on my journey here.

Much to my excitement, the current clothes fashions here in Brighton mirror styles I have always been a fan of but have previously been unable to indulge my interest in from the usually available assortment. Primarily, long flowy skirts, and shirts of various styles in an assortment of bright, solid colors like purple, teal, and magenta. So I now have the garments with which to face the oncoming of summer, and have finally pacified the child inside me who has been sulking since she outgrew her fairy costume and I failed to buy her another one.

Ooh, one other source of excitement has been a series of e-mails from the women I'll be living with next year. Lahlae sent out the suggestion that we all take an online version of the Meyers-Briggs Personality Test (which any of you should take if you haven't yet, and I'd love to hear what you test as) and share our results with one another. Now of course, I'm a huge proponent of this test, so the mere suggestion of using it was enough to give me great excitement about the living situation for next year. But more promising yet, as the results filter in, our personalities are all similar enough that it looks like we'll be seeing eye-to-eye on a lot of things, while remaining different enough to promise variety in the household as well. Crazily, there are three of us INFJs, even though that's one of the most rare of the 16 types, forming under 2% of the general population, and everyone else is within 1 or 2 letters of that type in various directions. That is, we have, so far, 3 INFJs, an INTJ, an ISFJ, an ENFJ, and an ESFJ. All Js, which bodes well for house cleanliness... :) The woman in charge of the house is also an INFJ. It's almost eerily coincidental... But very cool.

I've also been made acutely aware over the past week of how fortunate I have been in the people I have come to know and befriend over here, through my flat and the Meeting House. It has been their support and general wonderfulness that has made my study abroad experience so exciting and enlightening, and I'll be incredibly sad to have to part with them all. At the same time, the passing of the half-way mark of my time away from home also has me looking forward eagerly to seeing once more the much-missed faces of my family and friends back in the States. I hope you are all doing well and enjoying your own approaching summers (especially any UPSers with a few short weeks until finals), and are well aware of how much I miss and appreciate you. Love always!

I Don't See Any Ire...

2005-04-17T21:40:00.000+01:00

I return safely from yet another adventurous venture beyond Britain’s borders, flanked once again by the obligatory twelve hours of travel on each end (taxi-coach-coach-plane-bus-taxi and back again). This time, the destination was Ireland, where I stayed in a cottage eight miles outside of Dublin with Ben, Toby, Clare, Sofia, and Jess (three flatmates and two virtual-flatmates). It was my first-ever and much-anticipated journey to the Emerald Island, and it was everything I ever imagined it would be.

The cottage was delightfully isolated on a grassy, sheep-inhabited hillside over a mile from the nearest bus stop, a fact I deeply appreciated despite the difficulties it caused when we wanted to do things like explore Dublin or buy groceries. But we managed, and were much the fitter for it by the end of the week. About a quarter mile from the cottage was a trailhead leading out onto Tibradden Mountain and a rocky trail to explore Ireland’s wilderness. Supposedly, this trail led to a megalithic tomb named Fairy Castle, which, as you can imagine if you have any familiarity with my fascination with mythical creatures and really old rocks, I went out seeking immediately and eagerly. But alas, the fairies had hidden their secrets too well, and I never did manage to find it.

Ben lent me the Harry Potter books to re-read in preparation for the upcoming release of the sixth book, and while he read the fifth book for the first time I managed to make my way back through the first four, sparking, along the way, much discussion about the books amidst the two of us and Toby and Jess. The six of us also noticed an uncanny similarity between our own adventures and the Lord of the Rings trilogy, leading us to dub one another with the names of our corresponding characters (Toby, who organized the trip and carried the tickets, was christened Frodo, the Ringbearer; his best friend and trusty sidekick Ben became Samwise Gamgee; the mischevious duo Clare and Sofia were Merry and Pippin; Jess was dubbed Aragorn for reasons too complicated to explain; Jay, who was supposed to join us on the trip but had last-minute visa issues, henceforth became Gandalf, and I was known as Legolas). The best part was when Toby, Ben, Jess and I journeyed up Tibradden Mountain on yet another fruitless search for Fairy Castle, and were hit by a freak, 100-meter-wide storm of stinging hail that could only have been sent to us by Saruman.

Other than that, we did make the journey into Dublin one day, to see the Natural History and National museums and do some shopping. We also discovered the sordid truth behind the Irish bus system’s insistence on EXACT CHANGE ONLY (it’s secretly run by a consortium of leprechauns and beavers), made friends with a number of deer, sheep, and rabbits, and spent far more time than was necessary on the comfy sofas, revelling in the availability of a television by watching British soaps and, much to my shame, Britney Spear’s cinematic debut Crossroads.

In spite of that last bit, it was a highly enjoyable trip. The scenery was absolutely fantastic, and precisely as I pictured Ireland would be, which so rarely happens. And I got to spend some time sitting and writing in a grassy, boulder-strewn glen surrounded by fir trees and bathed in the trickling music of a nearby waterfall. What more, really, could I have wished for? Besides, of course, at least the briefest glimpse of Fairy Castle.

Check out pictures now posted in My Photos.

Not Quite Kissing The Ground...

2005-04-08T23:10:00.000+01:00

...but coming pretty close; I'm incredibly glad to be safely back in England after 14 hours of travel via metro, coach, plane, train, underground, and two more trains to return to campus. Fortunately there were no problems with my journey today aside from the length, and the coach to Pescara airport took us over three hours of gorgeous Italian countryside which I otherwise wouldn't have had a chance to see. Nevertheless, the first sighting of soggy grass fields and the first blast of icy British air were a surprising comfort, and I find I feel a lot more grounded over here than I did in Italy. I guess, in my few months here, I've settled at least a bit...

But not for long, because tomorrow morning I journey back down to London to fly out of the same airport I arrived through today, and it's off to Ireland for a week. Which I'm really excited about! I'll tell you all about it soon enough, I'm sure. Until then, ciao ciao! (See, I did pick up a little Italian... ;)

Roman Holiday Extended

2005-04-07T23:09:00.000+01:00

Here I am still in Rome, in the midst of yet another travel adventure which will make a good story once it's all over with and I'm safely where I need to be. Really it will. In the meantime, unfortunately, I'm stuck in Rome for another night after travelling the two hours via metro and bus from the city to my airport only to discover that it's been closed down until tomorrow at midnight to let all the dignitaries fly in, and that all flights had been transferred to different airports. But of course departed at the regularly scheduled times. Which meant there was no way I would make the 130-mile journey to the correct airport in time. And, as the next flight back to London from there was booked up, my only option was to transfer to a flight heading back tomorrow. So I trekked back to Rome, caused quite a shock to Kate by reappearring outside her classroom just as she expected my plane to be taking off, and am staying with her for another night and really hoping all goes smoothly tomorrow. I'm thanking the cautionary voice that told me to leave a day's travel cushion between my return from Italy and my departure to Ireland, so hopefully as things look at the moment I'll still be able to make that flight with no problems. Knock on wood for me, though, will you?

On a more upbeat note, on the way to the airport Kate and I were passed by a lengthy cavalcade (is that the word I want?) of darkly tinted cars with the American flag and insignias speeding, lights flashing and sirens blaring, from the direction of the U.S. Embassy to St. Peter's, and Kate's pretty sure one of the shadowy figures she glimpsed through the windows was George Bush. I should have stopped him to see if I could hitch a ride to England on Air Force 1 while he's not using it.

Un Giorno Perfecto a Roma

2005-04-06T08:37:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was one of the most wonderfully random and glorious I could possibly have imagined. On the way to Kate's 9:30 class, we stopped in for a quick cappuccino and cornetto (pastry), consumed in a mad rush while standing at the coffee bar, which is a traditional Italian breakfast. I journaled and read while Kate was in class, and then we headed out for some sightseeing, grabbing tasty paninis on the way.

We passed through the Campidolio on our way to the Forum, and spent about an hour just wandering through the ruins, exercising, as Professor Walter Lowrie would have encouraged, our historical imaginations. Although mainly just a pile of brick and marble rubble, enough of the original structures remained to give a general idea of how the ancient Roman city center would have looked, and to make my jaw drop once or twice as well. It was pretty insane to see tourist just sitting around chatting and resting their feet on hunks of marble with intricate carvings made a couple of thousand years ago.

Then we went up onto the Palatine Hill, where the rich Romans and emporers built their palaces. Also mostly ruins, but very pretty ones, especially with all the interspersed fields of clover and wildflowers. We found a solitary spot devoid of tourists, where I frolicked amidst flowers, butterflies, and ancient ruins. Amazing.

Next stop was the Collosseum, where we didn't have much time before Kate had to make her way to her next class, but we were kind of encircled by a passing tour group and managed to incur a good deal on knowledge about the structure's ancient use.

Kate's class, which is on the Baroque period, was a site visit, so the class met outside the Palazza Spada, the residence of a cardinal of the 17th century, which contained an extensive art collection and a courtyard with a really neat "perspective gallery" (a hallway of about 8m made to look 30m long by tilting the walkway and shrinking the more distant arches and columns--so cool!). Kate's teacher gave some in-depth lectures about the techniques and symbols employed in a few of the paintings, and then the class went over to a church (which happened to be right next door to the Taverna where Kate and I got our unintentionally fishy pizzas my first night here) to see a beautiful statue of Saint Cecilia, patroness of music.

We then wandered home, on the which journey, inspired by the impulsiveness of the Fox, we did things like peer through keyholes, wander into secret gardens, follow cute old men up random side streets, buy one of each of all the pastries in a shop window and eat them as we walked down the road, offer to help old ladies carry home their groceries, and get told off (we think) in Italian by invisible, unidentified persons behind mirrored glass through a lifted slot for twirling around in an abandoned stone tollbooth pretending it was a time machine.

As we neared Kate's apartment, we discovered our path to be impeded by the winding, five-hour-long line to view the Pope's body, which snakes through all the streets we would normally have taken. So, after a few minutes of being swept through that madness, we took a wide path around it and finally made it home, where Kate's flatmate had prepared a delicious dinner of chicken fried rice and potato, egg and apple salad. Yummy!

(Kate and her flatmates have a system worked out by which they each cook one night of the week, which is a grand way to get variety in your diet, a break from cooking, and a very fun and homey atmosphere, which I greatly appreciate.)

So that was yesterday. On the other two days since I last wrote, I went to the Sunday morning mass in Pope John Paul II's memory, attended by tens if not hundreds of thousands out in St. Peter's square. My favorite part was the sharing of the Pace (aka peace), in which everyone turned to their neighbors and warmly shook hands, and for that moment, the entire crowd was connected. It was beautiful. We also went to Vespers and Mass inside the basilica that afternoon.

The day before yesterday we went to an open-air market to buy fresh fruits, veggies, and eggs for our dinner night (for which we cooked a spinach, swiss cheese, and onion quiche as well as one with chicken, artichoke hearts, sundried tomatoes, fresh basil, and parmesan cheese). Kate showed me the area around her school, which is in the midst of such monuments as the Pantheon and the Trevi fountain, and then while she was in class I got some delicious gelato and visited the Area Sacra, a square of ruins where Caesar was assassinated, which is now a cat sanctuary. I went down to visit the offices and nursery of the sanctuary, and ended up getting a lengthy tour of the place by an exuberant volunteer.

Those are the highlights of my trip so far. In a little bit we're going to go down to see if the Vatican is open, so hopefully I'll get to see the Sistine Chapel and such. And then tomorrow, believe it or not (I sure don't), I head back to England. Sad. But, then it's off to Ireland, which has been a dream of mine for quite some time. I can't quite get over how fortunate I am to have all these amazing opportunities, and I want to thank everyone who has made this trip possible and supported me through it. Amore,

Bella Roma

2005-04-03T08:30:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was my first in Rome. It started with an early morning trip via metro and train to the airport, but all went smoothly on the journey. I flew over the Swiss Alps, which were incredible! Kate met me at the airport, and we took a bus and then the metro to the hostel I'm staying in and checked in there. Then we went back to Kate's apartment, which is adorable, and had a little snack before heading back out. We spent the afternoon in a park called Villa Borghese, sitting in the sunshine under the Italian trees (possible laurels? but anyway very different from British ones) making daisy chains and reading. Then we walked around a bit, through the Piazza del Popolo and along the Via del Corso, until it was time for dinner (which they don't do over here until at least 8:30.)

We found a little restaurant district with lots of cute little places with cobblestones and checkered tablecloths, and Kate managed to find one filled with Italians as opposed to tourists, where we tried to order pizza in Italian, and weren't as successful as we could have hoped--Kate ended up with smoked salmon on her pizza, and somehow I ended up with anchovies. But we managed, and had a delicious tiramisu for dessert.

We walked home along the Tiber River around midnight, and saw lots of people at St. Peter's, which was right on the way home, so we went down to the plaza and there was a service going on and lots of people and news cameras, although everything was in Italian so we weren't sure whether or not the Pope had died or if this was a continuation of the vigil. But we stayed for a while, and then went home and checked the news to learn that he had. It's now the next morning and they're holding a memorial mass right now, so I'm going to head down there for a bit. More later, and my love as always.

Back in Brighton...

2005-03-30T20:37:00.000+01:00

...for a two-day visit with Amy, before we head back to London to catch our respective flights, she to home and I to Rome. Yesterday was another eventful one in London, with Kate, Amy and I making up for a late start by whizzing through our whirlwind tour of planned activities. We started off at Speaker's Corner, which was completely deserted, possibly due to the heavy fog and threatening rain. We walked through a chilly and quite empty Hyde Park to Buckingham Palace, then frolicked through daffodils on our way to Westminster Abbey, breezed by Big Ben and the House of Parliament and Number 10 Downing Street (the Prime Minister's house) and paused briefly at the National Gallery, where Kate and I spent one and a half of the two hours we had until closing time sitting in the cafe deep in carrot soup and conversation. Then we met up with Amy, who had briefly departed to try to meet Harvardian friends at a nearby tea room which turned out to be rather sketchy and devoid of said Harvardians.

We headed off into the rain to the London Bridge area to find the Anchor pub, apparently frequented by many a literary great of old. After walking through a glorious neighborhood filled with crazy signs like "This is not a photo opportunity" and a giant "TAKE COURAGE", as well as some warnings about thieves which had Amy worried, we found the pub, and sat and drank and talked for a few lovely hours under the watchful eyes of a portrait of Shakespeare. We then went in search of an Indian restaurant for dinner, and managed to find The Bengal Clipper, at which we were attended by about seven waiters, all of whom seemed quite miffed at our failure to order drinks. We ordered a chicken curry, a chicken kebab in egg, and a spinach and cheese dish and split them all, which made for exciting variety.

At the end of the meal we glanced at our watches and were shocked to discover it was past 11, with poor Kate scheduled to leave in four hours to head to the airport and back to Rome. We raced through the rain in search of the Underground station, which was unfortunately just off the edge of the map we had brought, and all got soaking wet, since Kate and Amy decided that if I was going to refuse to get under the umbrella, neither of them would use it, either. In this sopping rush we undertook our viewing of the Tower of London ("Look, there it is!" "Where?" "That castle thing!" "That's not a tower!" "I'm soaking wet!" "Well, use the bloody umbrella!" "No!" "We have to go, guys!" "Bye, Tower!") Which I think is the only way to view such quintessential landmarks, personally...

We did manage to find the station, finally, just before midnight hit and our day passes expired. On the ride home, as we dripped slowly dry and laughed at the madness of our day, a young man slipped in just as the doors were closing on an interim stop before our own, and we remarked admiringly on his skill and agility. It was not until after we had exited the train that we realized he had had just the height, build, hair color, and cheeky smile of our Masked Avenger from the Santa Barbara road trip! And to top it all off, as we turned the corner to our apartment, a security guard car drove slowly up beside us, slowing when we slowed, stopping when we stopped, and rolling down his window. He pulled over and parked as we turned back up the street to avoid him, and as we crossed to the other side of the street to find an alternate route home, we realized it could only have been Mr. Giggles. You know, I bet he's the Masked Avenger's arch nemesis! In any event, they both clearly felt the call of the conjunction of me, Kate, and Amy, and spent the first two of our days in London travelling to encounter us there from whatever part of the world they had currently been respectively rescuing and terrorizing.

We decided to stay up with Kate as she packed and prepared for departure, to keep her company and see her through the taxi cab fiasco, in which the cab company she had called to reserve a taxi from the previous day called ten minutes before her scheduled departure to inform her that they had no taxis responding in the area, and to give her the number of another company to call. That company, too, first agreed to pick her up and then later called back saying that no one was available, although eventually they pulled through with someone, and fortunately Kate was able to make it to the airport on time to catch her flight. Amy and I promptly crashed, and headed off the next morning to catch the megabus to Brighton, where we are now. We cooked a yummy dinner of pasta with veggies, and watched the first two episodes of the delightfully cheesy 1981 BBC TV series of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. More adventures to come, as always! Love to you all!

Day Two In London

2005-03-29T03:13:00.000+01:00

Well,this time the computer has all its letters, although perhaps that is because it appears to be one of those which is very careful with how it spends those letters and is not willing to relinquish a single one without a fight, which means I have to type with pretty alarming force. So if a letter or two is missing somewhere, you'll know the explanation and forgive, I hope. For insnce, this sentene has been tped without going ack to add the absent letter Silly thing. Anyway, for that reason this will be another brief post. Main exciting highlights of the day today: climb up to the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, several hours wandering through the Tate Modern Museum, and seeing Noel Coward's Blithe Spirit in a West End theatre. And, generally, just the coolness of getting to do London in the company of the marvelous Kate and Amy.
Yesterday's top moments included a huge and inspiring (Protestant!) Easter service at All Soul's (I've become rather used to the Anglican service by now), and dinner and dessert at this crazily decorated Turkish restaurant. And a good night's sleep at long last. But tomorrow is another big day, and the keyboard is driving me mad, so I shall say good night for now, and further updates later. Love always.

Brief Note From London

2005-03-28T01:25:00.000+01:00

Hello friends! I'm sitting in an apartment in London, in the midst of the insanity created by eight people temporarily cohabitating in a two-person apartment, typing on a keyboard which is missing the letter "c", while Kate and Amy try to work out the intricate topography of sharing a twin mattress. Oh, my goodness. Kate and I are operating on two hours of sleep after a night of clubbing in Brighton and an early morning of church. This is madness. Went to a crazy Turkish restaurant tonight with about five million lampshades. More to come. Much, much more... Be afraid.

Good night!

Sunshine Days

2005-03-18T22:12:00.000Z

Well, classes have ended for the spring term, and I now have a month-long break stretching gloriously before me, of which I hope to take full advantage. Exciting activities so far have included a potluck dinner with my Bible study group, for which I prepared a tuna noodle casserole with no prior experience and only half the ingredients as they were actually called for in the recipe, but which nonetheless turned out rather well (thanks, Coach Singer!), a run along dusty farm-trails amidst fields of cows, the chance to read some completely unobligatory books on free will and audience dynamics, the commencement of a new and rather risky play which I'm not altogether sure how to continue, which intends to portray God's love for humanity and its implications for our lives, and several opportunities to enjoy the weather, the countryside, and some philosophical conversation in the company of Justin, fellow cartographer of metaphysical landscapes. Upcoming adventures include the arrivals of Kate Fox and Amy Wong into my welcoming domain, followed by a trip to visit the Fox in her new Italian habitat and a week in Ireland with the flatmates and friends. So, much more excitement to come.

Wow, is that all? No ten-paragraph-long rambling? I must be losing my touch... Don't worry, I'm sure I'll make up for it in the next one. In the meantime, love and wishes of sunshine to you all (and cinnamon lollipops to those who will appreciate them),

Another Week Whirls By

2005-03-13T15:10:00.000Z

Since my return from Wales, the weather has shifted from snow to springtime with a mischevious abruptness. Daffodils, crocuses, snowdrops, and their many-colored cousins emerge in hesitant force and, after a day or two of wary glances at the clouds floating oh-so-innocently across the sky, decide winter has gone for good and devote their full energy to reflecting the gleaming sunshine and dancing in the breeze. This was the ninth week of the spring term, and I have only one more week of classes before a month of Easter vacation is upon me. Time has sped by so fleetingly, I must be having fun. And indeed I am, of course. The past week has brought all manner of excitement.

I had a presentation in Writing for the Theatre on Tuesday on Dogs Barking, a play by Robert Zajdlic, which went quite well. On Wednesday, I went book-shopping in Brighton for my Science Fiction class, which was quite a fun experience--rode the train out there and spent about an hour wandering through the maze of cute shops and cafes they call the Lanes, doing as much scoping-out-in-preparation-for-upcoming-visitors as actual book-shopping. Then I came back to campus for a spontaneous hot chocolate and conversation with Sara, later joined by Gavin. I dashed home to prepare a hasty salad for our potluck to celebrate the last Skeptics of the term, where we discussed the Trinity. And although, as Skeptics always does, we had to conclude long before we had heard nearly everyone's full viewpoint nor reached any type of conclusion, there were some very interesting and insightful points raised. Among them the idea that the reason we view God as existing as multiple Persons is that we observe Him in many different places (in ourselves, throughout the universe, in the person of Jesus) and each time we observe Him, He's not just a force or fragment, but a full Person. If that makes sense. (But if you're interested in hearing more about that point/the discussion, let me know and I'll be happy to expand.)

After Skeptics a few of us headed over to watch The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui, by Bertolt Brecht, a very interesting play which he wrote in 1941, while in the process of fleeing to America from Nazi Germany. It's basically a transparent allegory of Hitler's rise to power, in which a gangster named Ui gains control of Chicago, and later begins to expand into the neighboring city of Cicero, through the compliance of the blackmailed but outwardly respectable political leader Dogsborough, by promising to protect the members of the Cauliflower Trust from the outbreak of vegetable-related violence suddenly spreading across the city (at the instigation of the very heavies he is offering to provide protection). It must have been an enormously daring piece of theatre at the time it was written, although the villainizing of Hitler and those who allowed his rise to power seems a bit trite with modern historical hindsight. Still, it was a good bit of theatre, well-written, surprisingly funny, and entertaining to watch. My one quibble was that, in keeping with the spirit in which it was written, I think Brecht would have preferred the story to be applied (as it certainly could have been) to more contemporary political situations, rather than so strictly related to its original WWII background. Otherwise, though, very interesting indeed.

Thursday I went to a lecture put on by the astronomy department about the use of galactic clusters in gaining deeper understanding of the Big Bang, which ended up being way over my head, but which was impressive to watch in large part because the lecturer, having become confused about intended time and thus mis-scheduled her babysitter, was forced to give the talk while simultaneously keeping an eye on her 18-month-old son, who toddled around at her feet exploring the projector and waving around a pointer stick. A very vivid demonstartion of the type of woman able to juggle both motherhood and a serious scientific career.

On Friday I met with my Creative Drama group and, as the result of a flash of inspiration I had received about our project the day before, we finally began writing what I think will be the basic outline of our final production as it will eventually end up. It's an interesting combination of a loop of stylized "daily life" interactions (people walking along, buying coffee, greeting each other, holding open doors, missing busses, crossing streets, etc.) interrupted by a dream sequence with a series of visions of differing degrees of realism, all revolving around the potential importance of seemingly insignificant moments and tiny interactions. It's kind of a combination of the various techniques and storylines we've considered throughout the process, and I think it will be really effective once we've got it all put together. We're thinking of using video projection and city-street sound effects as well. So I'm pretty excited that that seems to finally be coming together.

Also on Friday I went for my first run since Camp last August, which felt so nice. It's a great place to run because there are beautiful trails here starting the moment you get off campus or even before. I'm hoping my getting into shape for Running Camp this summer can thus begin a bit earlier than usual. After my run, we had our usual Friday afternoon discussion group, this week's chapter being on Sin and Grace and the meaning of the phrase "As in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive." Again, if you're interested in a recap of the discussion, or in getting involved in it yourself vicariously through me, I'm happy to oblige. After the discussion I spent a few hours sitting out in the windy sunshine reading Player of Games (the Iain M. Banks book I bought in Brighton for SciFi) before heading out to watch some of my new friends walk across glowing coals for charity--quite a sight to see, but apparently not the slightest bit painful!

Saturday eight of us headed out to Gavin's for a six-mile walk in the countryside, with a stop midway through at a pub, and tea with scones and other goodies (although they say "scons", claiming that only the most "posh" of people call them "scones") while we watched ENgland beat Italy in a rugby match once we got home.

Just a bunch of little events, really, but it's been a while since I've written so I wanted to let you know what I've been up to, in case you were wondering. And don't worry, I only very rarely consider the fact that most people have stopped commenting on my periodic posts to be an indication that nobody's reading them anymore--I figure some of you are still out there, reading in silence and going on your way. Alternately, I'm writing for my own memory's sake and the grammatical practice. Which is fine too. But if you are still popping in for an update every now and again and would like to let me know as much, a quick comment never fails to bring a smile to my face.

In any event, I'm looking forward to my upcoming month-long Easter holiday, peppered with such excitement as visits from Kate and Amy, a trip to Rome, and a week in Ireland with some of my flatmates and their friends. My love, as always, to all of you, wherever you are and whatever you're up to, and I hope all is well in your life.

A Weekend In Wales

2005-03-08T01:58:00.000Z

Surgeon General's Warning: If you have not eaten recently, it is recommended you do so prior to beginning to read this post, lest you risk perishing by starvation before reaching the end of it.

Translation: This will be a long one.

Well, I have arrived home safe, sound, and slightly more culturally enriched from yet another guided excursion, this time to the neighboring country of Wales (which is snuggled up along the southwest border of England, for those who weren't quite sure). And quite a full adventure it was, too. So full that you might need to digest this recap in several sittings. Therefore I shall commence my description forthwith.

It all began with a train ride to London Thursday night, in order to be present for the departure early Friday morning. And as I was there for the evening anyway, I figured I might as well seize the opportunity for some London theatre, and had thus procured for myself a seat at Andrew Lloyd Webber's new musical The Woman In White. Although my seat was up in the nosebleeds and my view was obscured by a number of handrails forcing me to contort in my seat to actually see the actors, the show was quite enjoyable. The set--a mechanized collection of giant curved white walls on which backdrops were projected with impressive technical skill, leaving the stage itself wide open to the actors--was quite well-done, I thought, and the music was fantastic, of course (although you can't help picking out bits which seem pulled straight from some of his previous shows, but I suppose that's unavoidable).

The plot, which focused on a pair of sisters (a pretty one and an "ugly" (read, she has brown hair (gasp!) and is tall (no, that too?!?)) one) both in love with a young artist (guess which one he falls for) but the pretty one has promised to marry this rich guy who turns out to be a jerk, which they would have known if only they had listened to the ethereal Woman In White who's been floating around the whole play warning them (and who happens to be the spitting image of the pretty sister). Don't worry, the ugly sister gets her moment of romance (art-boy falls for her eventually, once her sister's been pushed out of the picture and she puts on a revealing enough dress), although it doesn't last long before she's forced to give him up again. Hm, sorry, is my cynicism towards shallow appearance-based romance showing through? Really, though, other than that, it was a really good show.

After the play, I headed on to a nearby youth hostel to spend the night before heading out early the next morning to meet my fellow tourists. There ended up being 26 of us, all told, boarding the coach and heading off to the land of the red dragon. On the way, we passed through Windsor, and right by Runnymede (the field where the Magna Carta was signed).

We crossed over the River Seven on the longest bridge in the UK, and headed to our first stop: Caerleon, site of a number of Roman ruins from the days when the Empire stretched this far north. We saw the remains of an old ampitheatre as well as the only remains of Roman barracks in all Europe. There was also a Roman Legionnaire Museum with various bits of armor and other artifacts. Unfortunately, we only had an hour to take all this in before it was off to our next destination of the day: Caerphilly castle (the second biggest castle in Britain, after Windsor). The castle was pretty neat, and quite well intact. Very castle-y. Then we had some time to wander around the town, and I took the opportunity to buy some of the local, apparently famous Caerphilly cheese (a crumbly, feta-like cheese which turned out to be quite tasty) and have a soundly British dinner of fish and chips.

That night we stayed in a hotel in Cardiff (the capital city). The next morning we went, first, to the National Museum of Welsh Life, an outdoor museum consisting of thirty-some houses and other structures built across Britain at various points in history and reconstructed stone by stone on the site. So you could wander around from house to house, see the furniture of the times, ask questions of the museum representatives sitting in front of the various fires, and generally get a feel for life in different kinds of houses in various centuries. I thought this was a very neat form of museum indeed, and with good old Walter Lowrie (my Roots of Western Expression professor)'s encouragement to "Use your historical imagination!" echoing in my mind, I found myself delving deeply into the life experiences of my British ancestry. My favorite places were the tiny Unitarian chapel from 1777, the one-room schoolhouse from 1880, the recreated Celtic village, and the row of 6 iron worker's houses each decorated in the style of a different year from 1805-1985 leading you in a time-travelling journey from one to the next.

After that we were taken to Brecon Beacon National Park for a glorious walk through the countryside, past a number of waterfalls and quite a few herds of mostly friendly sheep. Quite stunningly beautiful--the pictures can't hope to do it justice, of course. That night we stayed in an environmental study center in Abergavenny, which was quite nice, actually. We were dropped off around 7 and left to our own devices, so I, having seen a sign for a theatre as we drove through the town, decided to venture out to see if I could locate it and take in a local show. Which I did manage, in fact, to do. They were playing Orpheus In The Underworld, a rather racy (at times) and slightly cheesy modern musical version of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, which was a glorious bit of amateur community theatre which was quite impressive, actually, for what it was. And always a fun experience, not only watching the play, but watching the local regulars who see every show and know the actors and get all the inside jokes they've scattered throughout the script.

The next morning we started off at the Big Pit National Mining Museum (or Pwll Mawr, as it is in Welsh--w is a vowel over there (makes sense, if you think about the name, really) which makes for some disconcerting-looking words), with a tour of an old coal mine. The most interesting part of that, besides being amazed and disturbed by the cramped, dangerous, and otherwise generally unpleasant working conditions, was the rant our tourguide (an ex-miner) went off on about what a stupid idea it had been to close down the mines, and how they'll just have to open them up again when they run out of other energy sources, which will happen any time now. Amazing how he can stick those sentiments in between telling us how hard the work was and how many terrible ways one could die in the mine shafts.

After lunch back in Abergavenny, we headed off to our final stop of the trip--Tintern Abbey, the now-abandoned Cistercian monastery made famous in the title of Wordsworth's poem (Lines Composed A Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey). It was destroyed by marauding Protestants (the cathedral, not the poem), so the roof is gone, the statues have been removed, the stained glass smashed out of the windows, many of the stones carried away for other uses, and grass now covers the floors. Basically, all that remains is the hollowed shell of the chapel, being slowly but surely reclaimed by its surroundings. Except, of course, for the nearby giftshop! Once again, we had only an hour to enjoy the peace, solitude, and beauty of the ruins, which barely gave me the time to compose my own poetic response to the atmosphere--admittedly rushed and a bit stilted, but nonetheless, I thought, as good a way as any to enjoy the time there. I include my poem below, hoping it won't be judged too harshly, as I did have to make sure to be back on the bus in time to avoid spending the rest of my days amidst the crumbling stones.

Lines Composed Inside Tintern Abbey

Nature, sprung directly from God's hand
This man-made stone creation doth reclaim;
For all its soaring pillars, proved less grand
Than He for whom 'twas made's eternal name.

Now glass no longer hinders the sun's glints
Through pointed arches upwards racing, filled
No more in second-handed human tints,
But by Creation, dipped in sunset's gild.

A roof no longer blocks the soul's ascent,
But shining Heaven pours in from above,
And on the breeze which through the church doth vent
Soar winged messengers of God's Natural love.

For men move on, religious tables turn,
One order waxes as another wanes,
But from these stony ruins may we learn
That in all times and places, God remains.

Not Wordsworth, but hey. Anyway, after the Abbey, it was time to head home again to Londontown. We arrived there around 8pm, and I began the final portion of my adventure--getting back to campus. Which proved a more harrowing process than was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, the underground line I needed wasn't in operation for the evening, so I had to take a rather more roundabout route to Victoria station. Once I arrived, I was unable to find the scheduled 20:32 train to Brighton on the display board, realizing just a minute too late that the 20:32 to Hayward's Heath was the train I in fact wanted, as all trains from Hayward's Heath to Brighton had been suspended and temporarily replaced with a bus service. I then settled in for the hour's wait for the 21:32 to Hayward's Heath, but before the proper platform was displayed I noticed Brighton up on the board as the destination of the front four cars of the 21:17 slow train, and decided to take my chances with that. After some confusion regarding which cars were the "front four", I managed to find a car announcing Brighton as its destination on the scrolling marquis above the door. A moment later, just as the train pulled away from the station, however, the announcement suddenly changed to a different destination entirely. Concerned, I traversed the train in search of a car still headed for Brighton, but was unable to find one. I did manage to band together with several others also aimed towards Brighton, and after some conference amongst ourselves and with an attendant a few stops down the line, decided to wait there for the aproaching Hayward's Heath-bound train, which, we were assured, would get us there quicker.

The rest of the journey was pretty long but uneventful--we managed to switch trains, and then locate the desired direct bus to Brighton, and, from there, there was fortunately a train running into Falmer. So four hours later, at midnight, I finally dragged myself across campus and home for the weekend after a journey very nearly as long and arduous as this story, having reminded myself many a time that, as I learned with my bus adventure a few weeks ago, travel troubles in a foreign land are not an inconvenience, they're a valuable cultural experience.

My goodness, now it's late and I must be off to bed. The posting of the photos, thus, will have to wait for another day. So do check back for those. In the meantime, I hope all is well, and that you have enjoyed this painstakingly detailed recounting. My congratulations to you for emerging in however many pieces you currently find yourself to be.

Post Script: Photos have now been posted and can be accessed by clicking on My Photos link on the right-hand sidebar.

X Eye ting! Gnus ^ 03/02/05

2005-03-02T23:26:00.000Z

Translation for those of you not hip to the rebuses:

"Exciting News Update"

Just a few quick notes of various levels of excitement:

Awoke this morning to shocking amounts of snow, which continued to fall throughout the day. Those of you who've spent long periods of time on the icy East Coast will probably roll your eyes at my Southern Californian naivete, but I still get really excited by the prospect of walking through the tumbling wintry confetti, which gives me a certain storybook thrill of adventure. Although I wasn't expecting the supreme difficulty of navigating a snowy,
downwards-sloping parking lot when I rushed out of the flat this morning only marginally on time for a meeting with my Creative Drama group, which almost resulted in my becoming much more closely acquainted with the slush upon which I was so perilously treading than I was at the moment prepared for.
Did manage to successfully make it to my group meeting, and devised a structure for our presentation next Monday which might just be worthy of carrying over to our final production. In our quest to explore the process of formation of identity and the concept of the self, we've hit upon the idea of showing the crucial although often insignificant-seeming moments of clash between various ideological systems, and have decided to do so, at least for the moment, by connecting random short scenes with snapshot images appropriate to both the ending of one and the beginning of the next. What we have so far looks really neat.
Read C. S. Lewis' The Great Divorce, which is simply a fantastic book and worth a periodic re-read.
Tasted the full golden glory of a peanut butter and honey sandwich on whole grain bread, which has been left for an hour to allow the honey to crystallize. If you have not yet experienced this incredible phenomenon, I advise you to do so at once.
Saw a production of Shakespeare's As You Like It put on by SUDS (Sussex University Drama Society), an entirely student-run society that puts on some really fabulous work. They put on Little Shop of Horrors a few weeks ago, which was quite good, but tonight's show was simply fantastic. So playful and fun to watch, and done, in the spirit of the original, with significant cross-dressing (Rosalind was played by a man, reintroducing the original additional layer of gender play to the production, as was Audrey, while Silvius was played by a woman. And the girl who played Celia was professional quality, quite truly. They also really used the silly love-ditties scattered throughout the script to good effect. Wonderful!
Was presented with a book entitled "Free Will: A Very Short Introduction" by Gavin and Sara, a gift I will treasure forever. It's hard to articulate how precious it is when you are given, not just an appreciated object, but an expression of such clear and deep comprehension of one's self.

On a slighlty less XI* note, I appear to be coming down with some kind of illness, which has me sore-throated and losing my voice. But, back on the upside, tomorrow afternoon I head to London, where I'll stay the night after seeing the new Andrew Lloyd Weber musical Woman In White, to depart early the next morning for three days in Wales through the Arcadia University study abroad program! Quite exciting, indeed! So, expect more fun photos and recounting of touristy adventures in a few days' time. Until then, my beloveds, a wonderful weekend to you all, and infinite affection and well-wishes from my corner of the universe (provided your understanding of the geometry of the universe provides for the possibility of corners).

The Crux: Part Two

2005-03-01T17:38:00.000Z

Warning: For those of you who, lulled into a false sense of infrequency by my failure to post much while in the midst of essay-writing a few weeks ago, haven't checked the blog in a while and are just joining us, I recommend you go back a few days and read the previous installment entitled The Crux before continuing. And now:

I want to start off by saying "Thanks!" to all of you who have so far contributed to the conversation regarding the philosophical matter at hand--I knew I could count on you! For those who have pending responses, I look forward to them eagerly. Can I just say that the possibility for such encounters as this--a meeting of my favorite and most respected minds contributing to a pot-luck banquet of deep thought across continents--is quite certainly the most fantastic benefit to the invention of the internet I have yet encountered. Wouldn't the ancient Greeks have been proud?

That said, I have exciting news! This week's topic of study in Metaphysics, coincidentally enough, just happens to be precisely our current area of inquiry--free will and its possibility relative to determinism, non-determinism, and logic in general! Isn't it fabulous when things coincide like this? Thus, with the reading for yesterday's lecture and the lecture itself, I now possess some valuable ingredients to add to our menu.

First of all, there are some useful technical terms, which of course aren't necessary but are nice to have sometimes just so we all know when we mean the same thing and when we don't. Plus, they make you sound so cool and philosophic. So, in case you were wondering:

A compatibilist is a person who believes free will is compatible with determinism--that is, that you could have free will in a deterministic universe. (My analysis of the two types of compatibilists indicates that they achieve this belief through funny definitions of either free will or determinism.)
An incompatibilist, not surprisingly, believes that free will is incompatible with determinism.
A libertarian is an incompatibilist who believes that we do have free will (and thus, believes that the universe is not deterministic).

But the really interesting addition is an organized outline of precisely the "logical possibility" question I've been trying to isolate, as set out in several slightly different formulations in the article The Impossibility of Moral Responsibility by Galen Strawson. You can probably guess from the title what his verdict is regarding logical possibility of free will, which he bases on something he calls the Basic Argument. That argument looks something like this:

Our actions are a function of how we are, mentally speaking.
If (1) is true, we can only be truly free in our actions if we are truly free in our mental state, to a certain extent.
We can only be truly free in our mental state if we have chosen our mental state.
But we cannot be said to be choosing our mental state unless we already exist mentally, already equipped with some principles of choice (P1)--preferences, values, ideals--in the light of which we choose how to be.
So in order to be truly free in our choice of a mental state, we must be able to freely choose our P1.
But in order to choose P1 we must have some principles of choice P2 in the light of which we choose P1.
This sets off an infinite regress, because in order to be free you must make a choice, but in order to have a choice you must have principles on which to base it, but you must also have chosen those principles, and so on.

This is the issue. So my previous question about logical possibility of free will can be restated with respect to this line of reasoning by asking whether the infinite regress is vicious--that is, whether it means that choice and thereby freedom is logically impossible or not.

There's a slightly different formulation of this argument later in the article, with some useful conventions upon which to frame the discussion:

Suppose one is in a situation in which one must choose between actions A and B. One will make this choice based on one's character or personality or motivational structure--one's CPM. One's desires and beliefs will provide reasons for A and B. One's CPM tells one which of those reasons to side with, and thus which action to choose. So in order to have freedom over one's choice, one must be able to choose one's CPM. Posit a self, S, which is independent of and yet has control over the CPM. The problem is, S will also have some structure on which it must base its decisions of what kind of CPM to construct. So in order to be free, one must also be able to choose one's S. And once again we hit the regress.

This can be looked at from the other direction, in a sense (instead of going back from the final effect to original causes, you can go forward from the original cause to try to get to the final effect), by starting with an initial S (self, or soul, or whatever). Now, imagine this initial S has no predispositions whatsoever--because only then can its choices be truly free. Is it possible for an S without predispositions to make a choice between various possible sets of principles, in an intentional rather than a random fashion? The difficulty we have with this concept is that our choices always are based on reasons. But are reasons inherent to the meaning of choice, so that an absence of reasons makes the choice meaningless? I think that is the real root of the question. And it seems to me that you can have a meaningful choice without reasons. In fact, that's exactly the meaning of the word choice. Reasons are things that back up the choice that is made, but the reasons themselves do not constitute the choice. Does this make sense? (I'm not sure, but it seems to me it might.)

But it's one thing to be able to call something a choice, and another to call it a moral choice. Can you have a moral choice in the absence of predispositions? Well, the S would have to start off knowing about "right/good" and "wrong/evil". Does knowing what dispositions and actions are "right" constitute a predisposition of itself? I think not--being disposed to do the "right" would be a predisposition, but knowing what the "right" is might not require a disposition to do the "right"; at least, so it seems to me. So I guess the proposition I'm making, without being entirely sure whether it's sound or not, is that something can be without predisposition, but can still have comprehension of good and evil, while maintaining a free choice between doing the good and doing the evil, but remaining morally responsible for that choice. If that is possible, then we have our leap from freedom into the land of determinism. If that leap is possible, it doesn't matter if the whole rest of the process is determined, because at that point a free choice has been made.

So, what do you think? Make sense? See a hole? Let me know! Thanks again for humoring me and brightening my life (whether you happen to be a philosophical type or not). Much love.

Cultural Experimentation

2005-03-01T13:00:00.000Z

Thought I'd add a brief interlude amidst the superb philosophical discourse that's happening on this blog to note a few of the ways I've been seizing my newfound freedom from obligation to experience the many opportunities available to me through my presence here--on campus, in England, away from my usual routines. For instance:

I've taken several fantastic if rather bracing walks in the area surrounding campus. Last Friday I took a picnic lunch across the road to the village of Falmer and ate on a park bench by a duck pond and quaint old stone church, and then ended up continuing my walk for four hours, past the village farmer's market and through the valley of Stanmer Park to the village of Stanmer, where I found a darling tea room and enjoyed a hot chocolate and British pastry, and then headed back to campus, stopping on the way back to mount a hillside for a bout of frolicking and singing praise to God. On Saturday I took another walk through Stanmer Park with Sara and Savannah, and on Sunday after church we went into Falmer to visit the duckpond, and ended up tramping home through falling snow as the sunny skies suddenly vanished behind ominous dark clouds. (See My Photos for images from the various walks described above.)
Friday night I baked a spinach and onion quiche from scratch, crust included, which I considered quite an accomplishment despite the simplicity of the process.
I finally had a chance to walk around The Lanes, one of the central shopping spots in the nearby city of Brighton. Basically a British Telegraph, for those Bay Area folk among us, or a downtown PB for the San Diegans. Lots of cute crazy shops and stalls all crammed together with masses of people wandering about browsing. This was while meeting my group for the Creative Drama long-term project we're working on. We mostly spent the time in two cafes discussing our plan of attack (the first one having closed while we were still working away, forcing us to move on), but we did peruse one antique shop in search of inspiration in old photographs (quite in vain, unfortunately).
Experienced the film 28 Days Later, a British zombie cult classic which was actually not bad.
Tasted Marmite, a distinctly British spread apparently placed on toast as a ritual of self-immolation, although apparently there are those who have been brought up on the stuff and absolutely love it. Apparently their advertising is based on the slogan "You love it or you hate it," and unfortunately, I found myself decidedly in the latter camp.
Was subjected to the inescapable evening pastime of British youth, namely clubbing, and found myself enjoying the experience far more than I had expected. In some ways it resembled the dark rooms, colored lights, and huge crunching masses of people dancing in clusters of your typical high school dance, but without all the fear of judgment and desperate need to be accepted, which made all the difference in the world, and then some. It gained the crucial Liz Seal of Approval as an Activity That Is Enjoyable Without Requiring The Aid Of Alcoholic Influence, although I wish for their sakes that more of those participating were aware of that fact. Nonetheless, I had fun, and may in fact voluntarily repeat the experience at a later date.

That's all I can think of at the moment. I hope you have enjoyed this brief descriptive interlude. And now, back to our regularly scheduled philosophical ponderings.

The Crux

2005-02-25T12:13:00.000Z

Calling all my fellow philosophers! (And, much to my delight, there are a good many of you who read this blog regularly and on whom I know I can rely for your individual insights on the matter to be raised below.) I know that out there we have materialists and dualists, theists and atheists, egoists and altruists, determinists and proponents of free will. And it is about this last matter that I'd like your contributions, if you can spare the mind and moment to post them up. Because, in my philosophical conversations and subsequent solitary ponderings, I have hit at long last what seems to me to be the central crux of the question of free will. Or if not, at least the farthest I've ever got along in the examination of the idea.

This crux, as I'm calling it, has nothing to do with the question of whether free will is physically possible. That's going to depends on your metaphysics, and whether you believe that non-physical substances can exist and can have interactions with physical things. So set that question aside for just a moment, because in order for free will to be physically possible, it must first of all be shown to be logically possible. So to examine the question of its logical possibility, let's just assume for the moment that it could be physically possible (an assumption, never fear, my materialist friends, to which I will not hold you outside of this consideration).

Ok, so, assuming free will is physically possible, how can it actually exist, logically, in the form in which we perceive it to exist? Because, all right, let's look at an individual moment of decision. In that moment, say you have to make the choice between two actions, A and B (for instance, saving a drowning person or running away from the flooding river). And you have a number of inclinations which might lead you to choose A (compassion, affection, desire for praise), and others that might lead you to choose B (self-preservation, fear, anger at the person because just before they fell into the river they insulted your mother). So what you're really choosing is which of those inclinations to follow and which to ignore or at least outweigh. But then you must have certain criteria or beliefs based on which you will make that decision--a belief that helping others is more morally good or socially beneficial or evolutionarily sensible than looking after yourself, or vice versa. And you can continue to work yourself back and back, but eventually you will reach a point at which whatever basic principles you hold will dictate one choice to be more rational than the other. And ok, which basic principles you hold at bottom might be dictated by entirely physical causes--what your parents have taught you, what your personality is more inclined towards, etc. But it's the point between deciding which choice is rational based on this combination of principles, beliefs, inclinations, and facts, and deciding to make that choice, that I'm interested in at the moment. Because here, perhaps, lies the possibility of free will.

See, the tricky thing about free will, assuming it's physically possible, is that it still always seems like, whatever point you're at in the decision-making process, you're always making choices either based on certain reasons, which then means the choice is dictated by those reasons and not really a free choice, or based on no reasons, in the which case it's a totally random decision with no reasons, which also does not seem like free will. But if the only way to make a decision is based on reasons or based on no reasons, and neither of these seems to involve anything that resembles our concept of free will, then it seems like free will cannot logically be possible, because there's no situation in which it could come into use.

But this is where I go back to the moment of decision between recognizing which is the rational choice, and deciding to follow the rational choice. This is the moment of choosing whether to act rationally or irrationally. And how do we make this decision? To make it based on reasons would be to beg the question and presuppose that we should make decisions rationally. Before we have decided whether to act according to rationality or not according to rationality, we can't use either rationality or irrationality as the criterion for making that choice. It is just as logical to say it would be irrational to act irrationally, and so we should, as it would be to say it would be rational to act rationally, and so we should. And somehow, this seems to me to resemble the logical paradox of free will--we cannot make the decision based on reasons. Do we then decide between rationality and irrationality entirely randomly? Or does something else exist behind rationality and reasons, upon which this decision can be in some way (although of course not rationally) based? Does this make sense? I hope so. Anyway, this is the point I have reached, so I'd welcome all insights into the different directions one might go from here. What do you all think about this moment of decision between rationality and irrationality, assuming such a decision could be made? Is it possible? Upon what would the decision be based? Or how would it be made? And, if you can discover, conceive, approximate, or otherwise consider this process, can it used to be applied to the possibility of free will?

I look forward to your replies!

A British Bus Adventure

2005-02-25T01:49:00.000Z

I think one of the benefits of being in another country is that even the experiences of deepest inconvenience and annoyance can be viewed as some combination of adventure and cultural experience. Case in point: Today I decided to take the bus to ASDA (the British Walmart) which is the local grocery store of choice. The trip should take about 40 minutes--twenty minutes to get to the transfer point, ten minutes waiting around for the second bus, and ten minutes to pop up the road to ASDA. Well, I had completed the first two legs relatively successfully (I must admit I did miss my first stop, but I saw it as we passed and fortunately the next stop was not far down the road), and managed to board the second bus, confident that I was now nearing the end of my journey and would have plenty of shopping time before my Metaphysics lecture that afternoon.

I had not, of course, wagered on the possibility that it would be the bus driver's first day, which it was, nor that she would miss her turn, which she did. And then, as luck would have it, as she attempted to return to the place where she lost the route in order to get back on track, she found herself driving along right behind a bus of the same line travelling the opposite direction (away from ASDA and towards the town centre). And the driver of the other bus, seeing her right behind him and assuming, I guess, that he was behind schedule and she was supposed to be on this return route, continued past the huddle of people waiting to get into town, gesturing back towards our approaching bus. When our busdriver stopped to let a passenger off, this crowd, who were, admittedly and most unfortunately, standing out in the sleet and having been just passed by the bus they were supposed to be taking, wanted to know how they would now make it to town. After quite some time of conference over phones and walkie talkies, the crowd got on the bus and, without any clear indication of what was now going on, we continued down the road. After a few turns it became apparent that we were headed in quite the opposite direction of the ASDA, the bus having apparently suddenly reversed its route. As I began to consider whether I should stay on the bus until it got to the city centre and turned back around towards my desired destination, or get off at an upcoming stop and try to find a bus going the proper direction, an official-looking man boarded the bus and, a few stops later after further walkie talkie communications, asked how many people on the bus had been planning to go to ASDA. Four of us raised our hands, and he told us we should get off the bus there, and cross the street to transfer to another line, which would take us in the right direction. So eventually, we did manage to make it there. And really, I saw parts of Brighton I might otherwise never have seen, and got a good story out of it to boot. So although the journey did end up taking about twice the time, I suppose in the end it wasn't a total waste after all.

So that was my main adventure of the day. I also watched two movies--the Stargate movie (Toby has all the Stargate episodes (this is a sci-fi TV series about a wormhole to other planets, which is actually quite interesting) on DVD, so I occassionally join him, Ben, and Jay in their process of watching them all) and Justin's philosophical Waking Life, which was a very interesting, artistic, and intellectual movie, so if you like that sort of thing, I definitely recommend it. It touches on a lot of philosophical questions, with a focus on dreaming and reality and communication. And then afterwards Justin and I got into a discussion of free will and whether or not one should believe we actually have it. No real resolution yet, but we're working our way towards one, perhaps, and it's an interesting conversation in the meantime. Then I returned home to fashion a dinner of veggies and soy mince, which is actually quite tasty! Anyway, those were my adventures of the day. Not Stratford or anything, but I think the little experiences are just as important as the big ones in cultural experience. Don't you?

Freedom & Flurries, Collaboration & Cooking

2005-02-23T22:56:00.000Z

Well, what with essays and major homework projects done until May and the latest bit of travelling properly recorded in photo, blog, and journal formats, and all my reading for the week done, things are looking almost eerily quiet here on the not-quite-homefront. Never in the past two years at least have I descended so far on my to-do list--I've even got books on there to read for my own personal enjoyment! Yes, this is definitely a part of why I came here--to isolate myself from the wonderful madness I would otherwise be joyfully but hopelessly drowning myself in at the moment. It's not that I have nothing to do. I just don't think I'm the type. But I finally have time to do all the things I always wish I could, but never quite have the time for. So I'm looking forward to a few weeks of that, at least.

In other news, the snow has continued in fits and flurries here, much to my chilly delight. It's just so fascinating to wake up, glance out my bedroom window, and see frosty flakes of whiteness meandering through the sky. It never sticks around long, but we do get a little while of powdered dusting before the sun comes along again to melt it all away. I took a walk in the stuff yesterday, which was quite fantastic.

Today I had a meeting with my group for Creative Drama. We're working on our main project for the class, a performance of about ten minutes we are to write and then perform at the end of the course. I'm really excited about the project, although it's definitely a challenge. We got into groups pretty randomly, which I don't think was the best way to go about such a long-term project. Really, I think, we should have each shared what kind of work we were interested in doing with the whole class, and then people could have joined up with others with compatible goals. Because really, you all have to be passionate and invested in the direction your piece is going, or else you'll never get anywhere. At least, that's my analysis of the situation after the first week of working on the project. We had an interesting starting point (looking at old photographs and finding the stories they suggested/inspired) but without any real idea of where we wanted to go from there, what we wanted our work to do, and why we were concerned with photographs or stories, we were basically getting stuck.

So at today's meeting we talked about our own personal opinions, passions, and beliefs regarding the purpose of theatre and the kinds of questions we would want audience members to come away asking themselves. It was a very helpful process, and I feel like I really clarified to myself why exactly I'm going into theatre and what I want out of the theatre I make. The trouble is, although the three of us in the group have a lot in common in terms of goals and beliefs, we also have some fundamental differences. For instance, while I feel the whole point of theatre is to encourage audience members to form their own definitive opinions, one of the other girls in the group doesn't really have or seem to believe it's important to have strong opinions. Which, as those of you who've known me for more than a good five minutes can probably attest, are the only kind of opinions I have. So that seems to be a perhaps insurmountable conflict. The one possible solution I can forsee would be to examine the very opinion about whether or not you should form strong opinions, by looking at a couple different people with different approaches to opinion-forming. Which could be very interesting. We ran out of time today, so we'll have to meet again on Saturday to clarify our plan of attack and work out something to show the class for Monday. But I think we made a good start today. And really, it was worth it for the insight I gained into my own beliefs and goals even if none of it ends up in the group project.

Also had a lovely dinner with the Skeptics folk tonight. Tomorrow I venture out to the grocery store to gather supplies for some culinary experiments, including a quiche complete with crust from scratch, and possibly a vegetable lasagna. (Any tips/suggestions, Mim?) Which should be a welcome change from the rather monotonous and makeshift diet composed mainly of tortillas, rice, beans, cheese and scrambled eggs in varying combinations to which I've been driven by the lack of time for a trip to ASDA the past few weeks. Then I've got a Metaphysics seminar, and tomorrow evening I'm meeting Justin to watch Waking Life, his favorite philosophical movie. Should be fun. May love and joy rain (or even snow!) upon you, now and always.

To Sing About Tourist-y Things

2005-02-22T02:09:00.000Z

It’s been rather a tourist-y weekend indeed! But I think every once in a while, even in the midst of trying to spend a semester here so as to blend in with the natives and experience authentic British culture, one has to embrace one’s tourist status and see that side of things as well. Accordingly, I have spent the past weekend in the very throes of tourism. The result—excitement, exhaustion, a few new friends, about a billion new photos, and an even greater appreciation for this country I am spending the semester wandering through.

It all began last Friday with a trip into London to see the philosopher Hilary Putnam speak on "The Epistemology of Just Warfare." Although the talk wasn’t until 5:45, the megabus necessitated that we leave at 12:30 that afternoon, to arrive two hours later and a good three hours prior to the talk. My travelling companion, a fellow American student of Metaphysics named Justin Horn, and I passed the hours on the bus discussing Aristotle’s theory of virtue and the relative merits of rationalism and religion.

Upon arrival we decided to spend some time exploring until it was time for the talk, and I proposed a walk along the Thames to the Globe Theatre, which I was interested in viewing close-up. Along the way we also passed Westminster Cathedral, Big Ben, and the Houses of Parliament. It was a lengthier walk than I expected from the map to reach the Globe, and when we arrived it turned out you had to pay a rather hefty admission fee to even enter the theatre, so I figured I’d wait to pay about the same price for a theatre ticket and actually get to see a show there, and simply took a few photos of the outside.

We now had only a short time until we had to head across town to find the lecture, but as the Tate Modern museum was right next door, and had free admission, we decided to pop over for a quick peek. The building was intimidatingly huge. We wandered about for a bit poking gentle fun at the authoritative nonsense printed on the descriptive wall tags, but just as I had begun to contemplate the artistic merits of the guard seated in a chair against one wall of the gallery, it was time to head out.

Past time, in fact, since we had realized too late that I had failed to bring my map of London or the address of the place where the lecture would be held. So we had only our combined hazy memories leading us to Euston Station, Gordon (?) Square, and Something Williams (?) Library. This all being halfway across downtown London, it might have been wise to leave ourselves more then half an hour to get there. Things were tight as we arrived at the proper underground station with only the vaguest sense of which direction we needed to proceed in. Fortunately a friendly law enforcement officer let us glance over his map. Still, without the address or precise name of the venue, and with only five minutes to spare, things didn’t look promising. Especially when every building on the appropriate street resembled a library. But when we finally found the proper building, and discovered that the talk had in fact been moved to another building several blocks away, still we did not despair, but, sprinting through the darkening streets, made it to the correct lecture hall just as Mr. Putnam began to speak.

The talk itself was rather interesting. Putnam’s proposed criteria for a just war basically involved (1) the knowledge that war would be the only effective means to stop a certain bad event, and (2) the knowledge that war would be successful in stopping that thing without replacing it with an equal or greater bad thing. Which seem like pretty sensible criteria, although they raise the question of what bad things are worth going to war over. If nothing else, the philosophical atmosphere and collection of characters had definite theatrical potential.

When the lecture concluded, we had another megabus-enforced period of several hours’ wandering about London. Fearing another mad dash, we decided to do our wandering near to and with constant locational awareness of the megabus station. Hungry, we sought out a place to eat dinner and pass the time, and managed to find an Indian restaurant which seemed harmless enough from the outside. The interior contained several amusing aspects, however, one of which being its rather absurd resemblance to the gaudily decorated cafe described as the Valentine’s Day meeting place of Cho Chang and Harry Potter in the Goblet of Fire. Also, the waiters were a rather forceful breed, subtly but constantly urging you to order more food, while trying to remove what they’ve already served you as quickly as possible. When we decided to keep our half-eaten appetizer even after they had delivered our main courses, I think every waiter in the restaurant came to our table on at least two separate occasions each to try to remove it.

We managed to pass quite a bit of our evening under those waiters’ watchful eyes, but finally we had to depart, and, after another half-hour in another bar/restaurant nearby, we caught our ride home. On the bus, as we continued our discussion of materialism and the concept of free will, a random fellow passenger popped up from the front of the bus to deliver a brief lecture on the non-determinist nature of quantum physics. Wonderful!

We returned to the University around 1:00 that night, and I returned to my flat to pack for the next morning’s early departure. I met the coach the next day at 9am, to discover several acquaintances would also be taking the trip, including Linda and Miriam from my theatre class and Savannah from the Skeptics/Nuthurst group. I read and dozed on the three hour trip to Stratford. When we arrived, we were first taken to the cottage of Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare’s wife, and given a tour of the interior. On the way there, we were given a general overview of the life of Shakespeare...by a guide! ... who invariably spoke! ... all his sentences! ... in spaced intervals! ... of three words! ... And each phrase! ... was delivered! ... as if it were! ... the most exciting! ... information imaginable! Quite, quite amusing.

We then drove into the town centre for a walking tour, which passed by Shakespeare’s birthplace, school, church of burial, and the houses his daughters lived in. We also saw the theatres of the Royal Shakespeare Company, and walked along the banks of the Avon River. We then had several hours to wander about by ourselves, so I explored the town a bit, then sought a late lunch of vegetable pasty (in a cafe playing Man, I Feel Like A Woman—the official song of travelling and adventure!) and triple toffee ice cream. That night we grabbed dinner in The Dirty Duck, one of the pubs the RSC actors frequent after their shows, and then saw an incredible production of Julius Caesar at the Swan. We spent the night in a nearby youth hostel—quite a nice one, in fact—sleeping in bunk beds in those fun little sheet-sleeping bags.

The next morning we had breakfast at the hostel—an amazing buffet with very British repast, including baked beans in tomato sauce, which is a common breakfast food here, which I find a bit odd. On the other hand, they looked at me like I was crazy for eating my beans with RICE and a tortilla I had melted CHEESE inside of—what madness!

We then headed over to Warwick Castle, a very well-preserved castle complete with armor, torture devices, furniture, wax figurines courtesy of Madame Tussaud, and live actors playing medieval characters. Ooh, and a haunted tower! It was a really neat (albeit majorly tourist-y) site, with lots of historical facts and exhibits. My favorite parts were the mill, tucked away on a lovely spot by the side of the river, and the ramparts, from which you could see miles of surrounding countryside.

After Warwick we traveled a few more hours to Oxford, where we were dumped with a map of the town and two and a half hours in which to explore. I wandered around with Savannah in a circling path to see as many of the more notable colleges as we could. Many of them were closed to visitors, with rather grumpy old men standing guard to fend off the tourists, which was unfortunate. We peeked into Magdalen College, which seemed to live up to its name as one of the prettiest. We found a few we could actually look around in, visited Blackwells, the biggest bookstore in England (or something—3 miles of books, supposedly), and finished things off by paying three pounds fifty for admission to Christ Church College, which was well worth it, as you’ll see if you check out the photos. Overall, Oxford was a very darling town, especially once you got off the main road. An intriguingly eclectic mixture of architecture spanning a millennium at least makes for a very unique atmosphere. And Savannah got excited whenever we saw someone around our age: "Look! A real live Oxford student!"

Well, that was essentially my weekend. It was mainly one of spending a few short hours in a bunch of places I could have spent an entire day exploring—very whirlwind. But at least I have a conception of the various places now, and if I ever get a chance to return I’ll know my way around. And I definitely got plenty of photos, which you can view by clicking on the link on the sidebar or here.

Tonight I completed and printed off all my essays for the week, which means, except for reading, I’m done until May. Hooray! This means, hopefully, I’ll have some more time over the next few weeks for exploring, experiencing, and planning trips for the Easter holiday. Today’s snow flurry was very exciting, since this part of England gets snow only rarely. Some snow still remains on the grass, cars, and tree branches, and additional flurries of reinforcements fall periodically. The air feels so crisp and smells so fresh! It’s glorious. Ok, anyway, unfortunately I’ve rambled rather mercilessly long, so I’ll cut things short for now. My love as always!

It's Snowing!

2005-02-21T16:42:00.000Z

Not merely tiny snowflakes drifting from the sky and vanishing on contact with the earth, as has occurred several times since I've arrived here, but huge clumps of snow falling thick and fast and rapidly forming a downy white blanket to cover the earth. Glorious! Just wanted to let you know that, and that a detailed description of my exciting weekend just past is imminent in appearance on this blog (probably by tomorrow). In the meantime, if you simply can't wait that long, you can at least view the photos by clicking on My Photos over to the right.

Off to watch the snow fall!

Phil Me With Osophy!

2005-02-14T02:21:00.000Z

As the title suggests, the time between the last post and this one has been overwhelmingly philosophical in nature. Which, by my standards, is an invariably positive situation. The main reason for this philosophic theme has been the Metaphysics essay I've been diligently working on over the past few days. It's not due until a week from next Thursday, but as I have another essay due that week as well, plans to go out of town the preceeding weekend, and no clue what the expectations are in this country and how they might differ from those to which I'm accustomed, I figured getting the thing done early would be a highly beneficial accomplishment.

So, much of my spare time has been spent in reading for and pondering the essay (which is on George Berkeley's theory of empirical idealism (the theory that matter doesn't exist, all that really exists are minds and ideas, and that what we call material objects are really just ideas in the mind of God) and why it presents just as skeptical a picture of reality as does materialism). All yesterday I locked myself in my room to read commentaries on Berkeley's theory and type up my essay, my only glimpses of the outside world consisting of periodic glances out the window to admire the fantastic and ever-changing sky through my window (and a two-hour respite in the evening for some student-produced musical stylings in the Meeting House). At the end of the day I had 2800 words of a 2000 word essay. So this evening (after a lovely, relaxing morning of church, lunch, a GLORIOUS walk through Stamner Park, and a cup of tea) was spent cutting and reorganizing the essay to fit the limit. Which it now just about does. So now I just have to find someone who knows how they grade ("mark") these things and get them to read through it for me and make sure it's ok.

But that's only the tip of the philosophical (and metaphorical) iceburg. In addition, there was a Skeptics Anonymous discussion of reincarnation which continued over into a nearby cafe and a conversation on free will's requirement of a supernatural aspect of reality. I also attended this week's meeting of the Philosophy Society, which was on the qualities inherent to an Infinite Being. And there was the Friday discussion group on the meaning of the verse "I am the Way and the Truth and the Life; no one comes to the Father except through me" (which is, admittedly, veering over into theology), and of course, the meeting of my Metaphysics seminar on Thursday afternoon.

I even went to see a theatrical production at the Arts Centre on campus which was arguably philosophical in nature. It was called Disembodied, by the David Glass Ensemble, and was one of those "darned modern productions" you hear so many complaints about by the more conventional theatregoers of today, with no discernable plot, periodic interludes of music and disjointed sound effects, a public restroom as a central location, bits of the set constantly falling to pieces, stylistic movements, and frequent repetition. But it was cleverly done, the physicality was fantastic (the main actor had extensive training in mime and dance), and there was a post-show discussion that cleared up a lot of the ambiguities. So overall, it was a pretty interesting experience.

But perhaps the most exciting development in my philosophical activities was the formation of a plan to go to London next Friday to hear Hilary Putnam (one of the most famous philosophers of our time, as I can only assume you're aware) speak on The Epistemology of Just Warfare. I'll be accompanied by a fellow student of philosophy, another American in my Metaphysics class, and one of the few (sometimes the only), besides myself who regularly contributes to class discussion. We'll be taking the megabus, which is cheaper than the train but takes longer and is less frequent, meaning that we'll actually end up arriving in London a few hours before the talk and staying in town a few hours after it's done, providing time for some exploration around town, which should be really fun. Quite looking forward to that excursion.

The weather gets ever warmer, the days longer, and the first daffodils peeked out their golden curious heads this morning. I hope spring is similarly revealing itself in your own locality, and I wish you a victorious Valentines Day. A bientot!

Shrove Tuesday

2005-02-08T21:49:00.000Z

Well, I was introduced to another central part of British culture today which I thought I would pass on to my loyal readers. In fact, it's so central, my flatmates were pretty shocked to discover that the rest of the world has never heard of such a thing as: Pancake Day. Yes, while we celebrate Mardi Gras with a carnival of disguises and reckless abandon, the British spend their last hours of freedom before the spartan days of Lent feasting in near-sinful decadence upon that most nefarious of luxuries, the pancake. The purpose of this tradition, which apparently goes back hundreds of years, is to use up all the "rich foods" in the house, such as, apparently, eggs, milk, butter, and flour. Which seem to me more like staple baking supplies rather than dangerous tempting substances. But maybe that's just my overindulged American mindset. Anyway, I prefer this type of tradition to drunkenness and debauchery any day of the week (especially Tuesday), so more power to the British, I say!

To initiate me into this apparently universal tradition, I was invited to a pancake party at the home of Sara (fantastic Scottish woman from Skeptics--see Nuthurst photos for a visual), who lives on campus in Lewes Court, in an amazing room with a stove and oven right there in the bedroom. Crazy! A bunch of the folks from last weekend gathered. Apparently no one quite knew the proper proportions for pancakes, by which they really mean a thin, large, crepe-like disc made with flour, milk, and eggs, and topped with lemon juice and sugar in liberal proportions. These are meant to be not turned by spatula, but flipped at great peril by an abrupt upwards jerk of the pan, as seen mainly, in my experience, in books and humorous movies. A rather disastrous but hilarious enterprise therefore ensued, with rather deformed, rubbery, and partly blackened results which were nevertheless quite tasty, if not the most aesthetically pleasing foods I've ever consumed.

I had to leave this gathering early to head off to Bible study, but when that finished I got one more taste (ha, no pun intended!) of the festivities as we all headed down the hall to the center of the Christian Union's pancake delivery project, which allowed students to phone up and order free, freshly-made pancakes delivered right to their doorstep. So I spent another hour praying over and delivering pancakes. Am seriously considering exporting this fantastic tradition to the States. Anyone interested in helping me? Try it--thanks to the time difference, if you read this in time you still have the chance to be the vanguard of the American Pancake Day Movement! Spread the pancake love to your friends and family. Happy Lent to all, and to all a good night!

Nuthurst, or, Paradise: A Precursor

2005-02-07T23:49:00.000Z

I find myself lacking the words to adequately describe the amazing experience that was this past weekend at the Micklepage Farmhouse in the tiny countryside village of Nuthurst. And lacking words is a situation I do not often find myself in. Of course, I'm sure there will be words aplenty in this post whatever I say. But they shall not do the experience justice, that I know already.

Basically, seventeen pilgrims spent the weekend living in simplicity, peace, and fellowship in an old(e) country farmhouse, separating ourselves from the responsibilities and hecticness of life to live in communal bliss we'd each end up wishing, by the end, we never had to abandon. The weekend was led by Gavin, the University chaplain, who also brought his darling 6 1/2 year old daughter, Emily. Meals were provided by Gudrun, the other chaperone-type, and were absolutely and universally delicious, from the salad (iceburg lettuce dressed with olive oil, garlic, and salt) to the pudding (their word for dessert, and including such delicacies as fruit pie and treacle tart). Speaking of food consumption and introduction to British delicacies, I also consumed my first crumpets for breakfast on Saturday morning. Quite tasty little sponge-bread things. Mmm...

Friday evening after dinner we all sat around reading one another our favorite poems (I read "Sea of Faith" and "The Midnight Tennis Match"). We then had some prayer, and then people busted out keyboards, guitars, and even a flute and we sang the night away. The next morning after breakfast we read each other the prayer that most spoke to us from a packet of them we had been given the night before. The prayer I chose:

"For giving me desire,
An eager thirst, a burning ardent fire,
A virgin infant flame,
A love with which into the world I came,
An inward hidden heavenly love,
Which in my soul did work and move,
And ever ever me inflame
With restless longing heavenly avarice
That did incessantly a Paradise
Unknown suggest, and something undescribed
Discern, and bear me to it; be
Thy name forever praised by me."
(Thomas Traherne)

My other choice had already been taken by the time my turn arrived, but I'll share it here, too, because you, dear reader, are central to its meaning for me:

"I thank you for anything which happened to me which made me feel that life is really and truly worth living.
I thank you for all the laughter which was in today.
I thank you, too, for any moment in which I saw the seriousness and meaning of life.
I thank you very specially for those I love, and for those who love me,
And for all the difference it has made to me to know them, and for all the happiness it brings to me to be with them.
Through Jesus Christ my Lord, Amen."
(William Barclay)

You can't get much more apt than that, for my blessed life.

After reading our prayers, we headed down the road to the local pub, where I was introduced to the wonderful world of actually playing chess with strategy, rather than reckless abandon. In other words, I was introduced to the wonderful world of losing miserably. But it was fun, and quite enlightening. A conversation about the philosophy of quantum physics which began on the walk back continued into lunch and touched on the timelessness of God, dimensions of infinity, and tetrachromatism and ultrared perception as a metaphor for sensing the presence of God.

After lunch a rather intense but fascinating conversation regarding judgement versus acceptance on the part of Christians developed, and eventually had to be forestalled by a walk through the countryside before the darkness descended. When we returned, dinner was nearly ready, which was followed by further conversation, and then Four Weddings And A Funeral was played in one room while a poker game started up in the kitchen. Once again, the fun and fellowship continued until late into the night for those who chose to remain.

The next morning Gavin and Emily baked a giant batch of communion bread, with plenty left over for breakfast, after which Emily and I played a card game and a few rounds of hide and go seek. We had a quiet church service in the barn nearby, with Taize chants, rereadings of our selected prayers, and sharing of our experiences of God, which we had written down earlier so we could read one another's aloud. Then we had some time to frolick and play outside, swinging on the swing and chopping wood. I sat and reflected for a bit in my journal, and then we had our lunch on the picnic table outside, cleaned up, and headed back to the University.

In case you haven't been keeping precise score: time to relax and reflect + good food + a little girl to play with + being surrounded by people who think and question + poetry readings + singing + prayer + amazing conversations + exploring the countryside + sitting by the fire + plenty of dishes to wash + a weekend of simple but devoted focus on God + lots of laughter + getting to know people one on one + incredible insights shared + playing in the outdoors + freedom of schedule and activity + a group of amazing, kind, loving people living together in harmony = just about the most ideal situation I can imagine. So when I say I could have spent a year there, at least, you can believe I'm not exagerrating in the slightest.

Hope that all gives you at least an idea of what the weekend was like. For a more visual representation, you can click over to My Photos for some pictorial documentation.

I wish each of you the opportunity to experience the conjunction of so many of your own personal sources of profound joy sometime in the near future. Thank you for being the loved ones for whom I thank God every day.

Triumphs and Travels

2005-02-04T17:30:00.000Z

Triumphs include:

Successful completion of my first assignment, the Science Fiction presentation, which went, much to my delight, extraordinarily well. I managed to stay within the time limit, appear relatively knowledgable, and was even able to answer all the questions at the end of the presentation. Fortunately, they mostly concerned the short stories by Asimov, which I had actually read and could describe in detail, rather than the sunsequent stories by other writers, most of which I had been unable to get ahold of myself, forcing me to rely on the notoriously dubious authority of internet synopses. As I closed up my laptop and went back to my seat, the tutor remarked: "That was a very good presentation." So all in all, success, I believe.
Completion of a first and satisfying draft of the proposal for a summer research grant I was nominated to apply for, much to my initial concern, as I had no ideas for a topic to research nor foreseeable time in which to complete the proposal. Duty-bound, however, I was unable to shrug it off, and so it has hung over my head since I learned about it in October, nary a moment to spend on it from then until now. Until two nights ago, actually, when I finally decided to set aside a day and just get the bloody thing overwith so I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. Consequently I did a bunch of research, wrote a personal statement and proposal for use, and was much relieved to indeed complete a respectable draft by the end of the day. Sent it off for approval and suggestions to my advisor and others, and am actually excited a bit by the prospect of the project now that I have it all planned out, although it would mean much less time at home this summer, which would be unfortunate. So really, I'll be happy if I get it, and happy if I don't, which is probably the best situation to be in. The basic plan would be to research Fringe Festivals in EUrope, Canada, and the U.S. in order to formulate some kind of report about the process through which they allow people to produce new and experimental work. So we'll see where that goes...
Decided for certain my living arrangements for next year--or at least, where I'll apply to live, hoping my application is accepted. I had two options of off-campus houses, both enticing for different reasons, but I eventually decided that while one would probably be a more ideal situation for my personality on a long-term timescale, the other would provide a unique and strengthening situation that I might never have the opportunity to experience again, and was thereby the best choice for my senior year of college. So yet another long-hanging weight lifted this week.
Also finished my presentation on the work of a practicing theatre artist (I chose Caryl Churchill, mostly because I preferred a single playwright to a collaborative group, and I've read a few of her plays and knew I could find plenty of information on her, although she turned out to be a very interesting choice, because there's a lot about her situation and style that I found very similar to my own (although of course there are also some major differences)) But anyway, that's another thing I've known I'd have to do for a while, and have finally been able to check off the list.

As for the travels, they're coming up--I leave for Nuthurst in about half an hour. Am looking forward to it mightily, but I should go and pack now, so I shall leave you until my return, when I'm sure I shall have numerous tales of adventure to share. Until then, a wonderful weekend to all!

Bits and Bobs

2005-02-01T01:37:00.000Z

A classic British term to describe the anticipated collection of random updates and observations to be included in today's post. (Incidentally, for the benefit of you in the States, as well, apparently, as the entertainment and edification of my British colleagues, I have begun compiling a list of British terminology unfamiliar to us Americans, which I shall share once I have got it into a somewhat complete state (so perhaps not until towards the completion of my surveillance I mean stay here).)

Hm, well, first of all, I spent the major part of my weekend holed up in my room working away on such projects as posting the pictures described in the previous post, responding to e-mail, and researching for and compiling my first assessed assignment here in the United Kingdom--an oral presentation for my Science Fiction class, to be delivered tomorrow morning at 9am. Fortunately, I have the benefit of having watched my classmates make similar attempts in the previous two class sessions, so I have some idea of what is expected of me. Nevertheless, it's a daunting consideration, not knowing precisely what they expect over here and in what unanticipated ways it might differ from what I'm used to back home. But the presentation (on Isaac Asimov's Laws of Robotics and their impact on subsequent science fiction) is now complete, and has been thoroughly organized and rehearsed, which means, hopefully, that by this time tomorrow that will be one down, ten to go in terms of graded coursework for the term.

Having barely finished my presentation, I headed down to the Christian Union tonight to have inspiration not just strike, but veritably avalanche upon me. The vision of a play I got is tenuous enough to be difficult to describe just yet, but is clear enough to me for some serious work the next time I have a moment. It basically involves an ensemble piece composed of a collection of poetic and visually metaphoric vignettes depicting a spiritual journey with God. If that makes sense. It does to me, which is really all that matters at this point. The poetic quality is very different from anything I've attempted before, which is both intimidating and exciting. So I'm looking forward to starting work on that.

Coming up this weekend is a retreat with the Skeptics Anonymous group to a country farmhouse, for conversation, prayer, walks, drinks in a local pub, movies by the fire, homecooked meals, and more. Very exciting! Hopefully from this weekend, in addition to solidified friendships, philosophical insights, and spiritual growth, will emerge more photographs to be posted on the neighboring blog, including, as per request, more countryside, as well as proof of both my presence in this faraway land and the existence of these ethereal Skeptics. Oh, man, though, if you want countryside, just wait until I take my camera on a walk or two around the area. Can't wait to share with you all the glory of Stamner Park, Falmer Village, and of course, the South Downs. Brilliant!

Other minor updates: I don't think I mentioned before my attendance of the International Student film screening of "L'Auberge Espagnole", a French film with the English title "Pot Luck," about a French university student who spends a year studying abroad in Spain and living in an apartment with flatmates from Spain, Italy, Germany, England, and America. A great film--highly amusing and almost painfully accurate, at many points, in its depiction of the study abroad experience, in everything from the bureaucracy of the application process to the joys of transporting your entire life in duffel bags to the complexity of the shared, multicultural living space. Of course, there's the usual movification of things, but it's a good enough film that I recommend it to any of you who can get your hands on it, and I trust you can jusge for yourselves which parts of it apply eerily to my own experience, and which are utterly irrelevant.

I think that's all for the moment. I cooked myself some curry last night to last me the next few dinners, and it turned out to be a pretty rousing success. All in all, getting the hang of this living situation. The best to all of you, as always. Keep up the e-mails and comments. My love pours back to the States and gets all over your brand new beanie cap.

She Thinks In Technicolor

2005-01-29T23:57:00.000Z

In glad response to requests for visual corroboration of my previous ramblings (as physical evidence, I'm presuming, that I'm not really just sitting in my backyard inventing marvelous fantasies (a state of affairs the revelation of which would bring my family a sizable shock, I would wager)) I present the first set of photos from my adventure so far. Images depict:

Katherine's Birthday Party
Flatmates and Friends
My Bedroom Inside and Out
Campus Views
The Homestay
London Orientation
Departure from the States

These images are available at

http://www.herpicturedthoughts.blogspot.com

which can be accessed anytime by clicking on "My Photos" under "Links" in the sidebar on the righthand side of this blog. More photos will be added periodically. Hope they're enjoyable and informative! (Do let me know if there are issues with the page--does it take too long to load, do some photos not appear, etc.) Love always!

An Organized Ramble

2005-01-27T20:23:00.000Z

A title with a double meaning, referring first of all to the numerous walks organized this week as part of University Health Week, which I have appreciatively been using to acquaint myself with the campus' glorious and fascinating surroundings, and second of all to this post, in its anticipated format as a lengthy discussion of a number of events, experiences, thoughts, and feelings expected to make up for in verbosity the uncharacteristic terseness (as noted by the responsively poetic Grandpa Fred) of my previous entry. Onwards, then...

My weekly schedule has pretty much solidified itself, having become, over the past few weeks, satisfactorily filled by just about the right number of activities and events--enough to keep me busy and engaged, without, I hope, overwhelming me. These include: my classes, as aforementioned, but perhaps never precisely detailed in schedule-distribution, as well as a number of meetings, services, and discussion groups, mostly of a religious nature, run through my second home on campus, an architectural anomaly of round concrete with square panes of individually monochromatic stained glass circling the gray walls, topped with an obliquely conical turqouise roof and called, quite appropriately, the Meeting House.

Basically, a run-down of my regular weekly schedule looks like this:

Monday

Creative Drama workshop 11-1
Metaphysics lecture 2-3
Taize service 5:15-5:45
Christian Union 7-9

Tuesday

Science Fiction 9-11
Writing for the Theatre 2-4
Cell Group 7-9

Wednesday

Skeptics Anonymous 5-6

Thursday

Metaphysics workshop 3-4
Alpha Group 8-10

Friday

Book Discussion Group 1-2:30
Philosophy Society 4:30-6:30
Ben & Jay's radio show 9-10

In case you were wondering...

Of course, other activities of a less regular nature are interspersed within this schedule, including hanging out with the flatmates (which usually takes the form of either watching a movie or sitting in our dining room (we haven't got any kind of living room, so most hanging out takes place in awkward configurations of wooden chairs squeezed amidst two tables in the too-small room between our kitchen and our bathrooms) having hours-long conversations about all manner of randomness... they also frequently spend late nights out together at one of the local clubs, an enterprise I have yet to muster the courage to accompany them on, although I'm sure it's only a matter of time, and I suppose it's a necessary cultural experience).

Other recent activities have included the aforementioned organized Health Week walks--the trek over the Downs was one such walk, and I went on another yesterday through Stamner Park, a bit of woods just over the hill from campus full, as we discovered with the help of the Biology tutor leading the walk, of fascinating flowers, shrubs, and trees characteristic of the local landscape. A very interesting walk, although it was so cold it was occassionally difficult to concentrate on the specific leaf or twig under observation. It's been quite chilly here, with a few more momentary flurries of snow over the past few days (although nothing lasting) and ice beginning to form over the dewponds.

Another fun event was the birthday party of Katherine, a Canadian girl in my Cell Group (aka Bible study), which was last night from 7-10. She had prepared huge plates of sushi, sliced veggies, and homemade cookies, as well as three double-layer chocolate cakes, and organized a number of party games for the 30-40 people who showed up. Games included that one where you get a name placed on your back (some figure from history, popular culture, fiction, mythology, the Bible, etc.) and try to guess the identity by walking around and asking other people yes or no questions, and the one where you tie balloons to your ankles and try to pop everyone else's while keeping yours intact, as well as a number of games involving sitting in a circle with one person in the middle who tries, by various means, to get into one of the seats, thereby forcing someone else to be stuck in the center. Great to have an evening of fun where no one found it necessary to chemically alter themselves in order to have a good time. I had met a lot of the people before through Skeptics Anonymous or Christian Union, and it was fun getting to know them better through some silly games. Great musical selection as well--such classics as "I Will Survive" and "YMCA".

Let's see, as an update on the homesickness front (these will probably continue until it fades completely, if it ever does, or at least reaches some kind of plateau), in general I am content to be here and enjoying the many things I'm learning and doing and people I'm meeting. There are still twinges of wishing I was at home, mostly when I wake up in the morning or when I'm walking from place to place and otherwise unoccupied, and I think they're partially homesickness and partially that desire to escape the responsibility of school and homework and just get to sit home and read books and have fun, both of which are quite possibly exacerbated by my curtailed and busy Christmas vacation. Which really just means I will appreciate being home when I get there (and will probably spend a good deal of my time when I return refusing to leave). In the meantime, I'm glad I'm here and am looking forward, also, to the many adventures I will have before I return to family, friends, and familiarity.

Only one other thing clouds the otherwise sunny situation--that terrible nemesis of the literarily minded: the dreaded Writer's Block. One of my many goals in coming here was to seize the opportunity presented by less academic and theatrical temporal obligation in order to spend at least an hour a day at the task of "playwrighting," whatever form that took. The first few weeks here were too filled with the errands of getting settled in here to allow for that, but this week presented the first snippets of available free time. Dutifully, on Tuesday I sat before the blank screen of my computer, an hour set aside, and attempted to begin. I have a play I'm halfway through, which I could have continued work on (the fairytale play where the actors emerge from the audience, for anyone I've explained it to) but I've recently wanted to prove to myself that I have the ability to pursue my true purpose in writing, which is to write plays with some sort of useful purpose and spiritual truth. The fairytale play, while fun, is essentially fluffy and without much underlying meaning, so I decided to try to start something new and slightly more meaningful. And was confronted, quite brutally, with a mind as blank as the screen before me, and a seizing fear that perhaps I don't have what it takes to follow through with this life goal of mine.

Now of course, you can't expect inspiration to come on command, nor a play to be written in a single hour, and if God has playwrighting planned for me then He will give me the inspiration and the ability. But it was a scary thing, sitting there staring at the computer, writing words I knew to be absolute worthless garbage, and envisioning the crumbling of all the work and study I've done so far and all the plans I had for the future. If they're meant to crumble, of course, let them crumble. And perhaps they are not--one day's difficulty is no indication one way or the other. But what a scary thing to watch. Scary enough to have kept me from trying again the past few days. The trouble is, when I'm so busy I know I'll never have time to write, a million ideas occur to me, but once I finally have the time to write inspiration runs dry, and the ideas I wrote down in more imaginative times are either nonsensical, uninteresting, or impossibly daunting. Alas.

Anway, otherwise all is well here. The sunsets are incredible, and yesterday I saw a fragment of rainbow shining in a wisp of cloud on an otherwise sunny day. Have you ever seen such a thing? It's quite breathtaking. Pictures of people and places, as well as some descriptions, will be posted, I hope, in the next couple days. Until then, I hope you are all happy, healthy, and working your way successfully along towards whatever you see in your own future. My love as always.

A Haiku

2005-01-24T20:55:00.000Z

Some snow fell tonight
But it lasted briefly, not
Much longer than this.

Yes, But What Was The Downside?

2005-01-23T02:27:00.000Z

Well, yesterday's planned activities with the Philosophy and Astronomy Societies were unfortunately abandoned--the former because I was deep in conversation with some flatmates, and the second because it was too cloudy for observation. But those opportunities should arise again, and I shall most certainly seize them. Furthermore, this morning did bring a different adventure in the form of a guided walk through the South Downs, a series of hills in the midst of which, nestled in a valley, sits the university campus. A small handful of us made it up Boiler House Hill to the sports complex early on a Saturday morning (a notable task on a campus where most people spend not just weekends but most nights drinking in pubs or partying at clubs--drinking age here is 18, folks, and that's so much the culture that there isn't much else to do around campus on the evenings, although fortunately I've found a small group of people who prefer to watch movies or hang around and talk most nights).

We left campus through the neighboring village of Falmer, which is absolutely miniscule and one of the cutest things you'll ever see. Most of the houses and walls are made of flintstone, which makes up a good portion of the landscape here, along with deposits of chalk. There's a church built in Norman times that looks like a miniature castle, right next to a duckpond and surrounded by grass and benches. From there we took a trail bordering some farmlands up a hill to South Downs Way, a walking trail kept up, I believe, as some kind of nature reserve. It basically winds its way up and down the downs, along ridges and through valleys, past snatches of woodland and flocks of sheep, through a number of fences in gates which divide the landscape into individual farms and fields. We saw a depression used as a settlement in Stone or Iron Age times, complete with the remains of some earthworks, as well as dewponds lined with clay to catch the rain and dew that will otherwise permeate the chalk and sink underground, so the cows and sheep have something to drink. Also learned the meaning of a few Sussex-originated words, like bourne (a spring that spends part of its time underground), dean (a settlement in a valley), twitten (a small alleyway), and weald (a flat plain between areas of higher ground). The weather stayed sunny, although chilly and brisk, and we ended up doing a lollypop loop of about 13 kilometers, which I guess is about 8 miles. Quite pleasant.

There are a few more walks in the nearby countryside coming up this week, including some led by biology tutors (their word for professors) which focus on the local flora and fauna, which should be very interesting, so hopefully over the next few days I'll get a pretty good idea of the university's surrounding areas. I'm looking forward to lots of walks and picnics while I'm here, especially given the openness of my schedule. And the nice thing about arriving this time of year is, the weather will only get better and the days longer. Hm, quite a pastoral entry, this. Next thing you know I'll be spouting off rhyming couplets about daffodills, so I'd best be off to do some reading for class before I become entirely Wordsworthian and go prancing off into the sunrise with a wreath of daisies in my hair, never to be seen again.

Ask And You Shall Receive

2005-01-21T09:29:00.000Z

Over the past 24 hours I have experienced a major turning point in the process of overcoming culture shock and homesickness.

Previous events like phone calls from home, putting up photos and pictures in my room, getting all my classes worked out, and the weekend homestay have had their effects, gradually decreasing the difficulty of being so far from home. But still a vague hint of foundationlessness lingered in all but my best of moments. Until yesterday.

It all began around noon, when the absurd and unnecessary difficulty of simple tasks like opening a bank account here drove me to a brief session of sobbing and praying in a field on the edge of campus, asking God whether there was any reason at all for me to be in this country, and begging for feelings of peace and comfort to replace my still occassional feelings of loneliness and sourceless fear. After this necessary release of pent-up emotion, I calmed down and cleaned myself up for a quick lunch with Katherine, one of the girls from the Bible study I just joined.

When I got back to my flat after lunch, I encountered Jack, one of my flatmates, in the kitchen. In the few minutes he had before he needed to head out for the afternoon, he started asking me some questions about my beliefs about the Bible, in pretty strikingly direct answer to my recent queries about whether God had any point for my presence here.

Then at 5 I headed off to the first meeting of Skeptics Anonymous, a group of people dedicated to discussing difficult questions of faith, led by Gavin, the university chaplain. We made a list of topics to discuss in the upcoming weeks, issues like tolerance, the Old Testament, the Trinity, and the soul. (As a beverage-related side note to make proud, respectively, both Christine and Ms. Visconti, I consumed at that meeting not only an entire cup of tea (I am in England, after all...) but also a few sips of the proffered Polish fermented honey--yes, folks, that'd be mead.)

In addition to these two reassuring answers to the question of my purpose here, I was further blessed to receive a similarly unmistakable response to the second half of my prayers as well. The vague sinking feeling I've found it so hard to find either explanation or cure for slowly but surely faded entirely away over the subsequent few hours, and seems to be gone for good. Walking around today I felt a level of comfort and belonging which, a mere twenty-four hours earlier, I didn't feel I would ever achieve here. Incredible.

Today I spent much of the time getting on top of my classes. I don't think I've mentioned yet the absurdity of my class schedule: I have a mere eight hours of class a week, with seven of those occurring on Monday and Tuesday. The one remaining hour is on Thursday, meaning I have not only Wednesday but also Friday off every single week--that means three day weekends all the way around. Furthermore, not a single one of my classes appears to have sessions more than five weeks into the ostensibly ten-week summer term. Not to mention the month-long vacation in between the two terms. Craziness! Not that I'm complaining, of course... Plans are already formulating for various adventures throughout Europe, including a week in a cottage in Ireland with some of the flatmates and co., a trip to Italy with some of the girls I met through Arcadia, and, of course, visitation of my various acquaintances from home who are over here in Europe for the semester. A major source of excitement has been the arrival of my dear Kate Fox to this side of the Atlantic, and a little chou-tete named Christine's imminent appearance as well. Not to mention the Marvelous Marlo! Ah bon!

Anyway, after a day spent obtaining the various books I will need for the term through the internet, library, and bookshop, watching Blade Runner for my Science Fiction class, and attending my Metaphysics seminar, I finished off the evening with a few rounds of Twister with my flatmates and some of their friends, apparently a Thursday tradition, at least starting this term. Quite amusing. Tomorrow's excitement includes a meeting of a discussion group for a book on fundamentalist Christianity, a lecture and discussion on insanity put on by the Philosophy society, and a meeting with the Astronomy Society for, weather permitting, some telescopic observation of a comet in Auriga (constellational home, for those of you familiar with my nominal plans for female offspring number one, to my favorite star, Capella). It's amazing how many stars you can see out here, far from huge American cities. And how often you get clear nights, considering the frequency of cloudy days.

Funny how quickly you can go from feeling convinced that you've made the completely wrong decision about what to do with your life, to feeling like you are in pretty much the most ideal situation you can imagine. Glory to God!

There's No Place Like Home(stay)

2005-01-18T01:15:00.000Z

I have returned to Sussex after a lovely weekend in the small town of Chandler's Ford, which I spent with a wonderful, kind, and welcoming couple who were kind enough to take me in. They showered upon me every imaginable kindness and comfort. Barbara, an excellent cook, prepared fried fish with veggies the first night, vegetarian shepherd's pie the second, and, for Sunday dinner, made a combination of foods anyone familiar with my eating patterns will find it difficult to believe I didn't directly dictate--macaroni and cheese, cheesy baked potatoes, mozzerella and tomato pizza on a shredded potato base, salad, tuna, and hardboiled egg. All of which was incredible. Martin took me out to meet a fellow student and her host father in a local pub on Friday evening.

On Saturday they took me sightseeing around the area. We visited Southampton, an important port which saw launchings of such momentous enterprises as 2 million D-Day troops, the Titanic, and the Mayflower (the latter of which was memorialized in a park at which we stopped). We also went to Winchester Cathedral, a magnificent and fascinating structure, as well as to Jane Austen's house, where my own personal highlights were seeing her writing table (tiny!) and, from her bedroom, the view out the window she must have gazed upon while pondering her literary endeavors. On Sunday, after a brisk walk to the top of a hill for a view of the countryside, their two grown sons (24 and 26, I believe) came over to visit with some friends, which was quite an interesting experience, as they were all rather exuberant (and friendly) youths. I also watched some hilarious British TV (their versions of Survivor (called Scream If You Want To Get Off), American Idol (called Stars In Their Eyes) and Who Wants to Be A Millionaire (same title, different host, questions, and contestants)). And hey, it wasn't just vegetating, it was cultural research! We also watched Thelma and Louise, which was much fun.

Overall it was a wonderful experience. The culture shock I experienced last week is fading pretty well, but homesickness is lingering on a bit longer, I think exacerbated by the brevity of my time at home over Christmas. So it was nice to have people cooking for me and driving me around, some time to just relax on a sofa and watch TV, a few days away from school, and just generally a home around me for a little while. It was so good I might sign up for another homestay through the University of Sussex.

Know, though, I do miss you all, especially my dear dear parents. If you're at home now, take a look around and thank the people that make it what it is. I guess I've developed a tendency to sign off with an encouragement to appreciate your surroundings, especially if they're familiar ones, but I think a lot of what I've gotten out of this first week has been exactly that. We take these things for granted, often, and it takes their absence to make you realize their value. I love you all.

Philosophy is Phun!

2005-01-14T14:21:00.000Z

I've finally worked out my course schedule in its entirety, having eliminated Quantum Mechanics and Relativity in favor of hopefully less daunting subjects. I am now enrolled in Creative Drama, Writing for the Theatre, Metaphysics, and Science Fiction. The former two are, of course, delightfully theatre-y, and, even better, pertain specifically to playwrighting in one form or another. So those should both be exciting and beneficial. Metaphysics (the philosophy of the nature of reality) is a far preferable alternative to Quantum Mechanics, and although I missed this week's lecture, and the reading a bit dense and difficult (we're currently looking at the nature of truth, a rather slippery topic to look in the face), the seminar yesterday was glorious and envigorating as philosophy never fails to be for me. What's more, my mention of it in the flat sparked off a four-hour long debate late into last night regarding realism, free will, parallel dimensions, and the like. Which was awesome. I haven't attended a Science Fiction class yet, but it seems like it will be a pretty interesting topic of study.

Yesterday's activities also included a trip to the chaplain's house in the nearby countryside for snacks, tomato soup, and a movie (we ended up watching Casablanca). I met some really neat people, and now know the times during the week for their meeting group, called Skeptics Anonymous. The chaplain is a pretty hilarious and very friendly guy. So all in all yesterday was a very high-excitement day.

Tonight I head over a few hours west to stay with a family for the weekend through Arcadia's homestay program. Should be much fun, provided I can get ahold of the other girls I'm supposed to be going with, including the one with the tickets. But that means I probably won't be reachable over the weekend until I return around 7 or so Sunday night. I'm sure I'll have lots of exciting stories once I do return, though. Happy weekend to all of you!

Plugged Back In

2005-01-12T16:49:00.000Z

Success!

I have managed to connect the internet in my bedroom.

Henceforth there shall be no escape from my prolific ramblings.

Mwahahahahaaaa.....

(One small hitch marred the otherwise flawless process which ensued once I had procured the proper cord. After I had turned on my computer and was about to sign on, a sickening pop accompanied the sudden aroma of melted plastic. Fortunately, my laptop was the source of neither of these concerning phenomena, and it still in perfect working order. The same cannot be said, unfortunately, for my voltage converter and plug adaptor, which was deposited, smoking, in the flower bed outside. I am currently powered by the kindness of almost-strangers, specifically my flatmate Clare (one of the THREE curly-brown-haired girls currently residing in my flat, much to my delight--embrace your curl!), who has lent me her laptop power cord.)

Apologies and Assurances...

2005-01-11T21:07:00.000Z

...to anyone who might have been alarmed by my previous posting, in conjunction with my failure to properly relate my phone number. Even though I did specifically caution you not to worry. I forget that none of you underwent a seemingly infinite series of orientations all of which made frequent references to the inevitable experience of culture shock, its symptoms and effects, and its transitory nature. Fortunately, however, I did undergo such a series, and if they taught me nothing else, I came away with an awareness of the possibility of such feelings as I experienced two days ago, and a resolution not to let them defeat me.

Nevertheless, I was deeply touched and encouraged by the offerings of advice and concern, support and supplies, poetry and pumpkin squirrels I received via blog comments and e-mails. You are all more appreciated, beloved and valued by me than I can express. Thank you.

I promise life is looking much sunnier today, not only literally (although that's also the case) but also in terms of most of the previously daunting areas mentioned in my previous entry. For instance:

I have eliminated Quantum Mechanics and Relativity from my schedule, and replaced them with Metaphysics, which I think will be a much better subject for the open-ended structure of a British University education. I also attended Writing For Theatre, which seemed, from the first lecture, to be a straightforward class from which I will gain much, with a helpful and kind tutor (their word for professor). The tricky thing about the British educational system is that your are left, much more, to your own devices. The main difference is, instead of being assigned textbooks and told which chapters to read for a given class, you are told the general area in which to focus and expected to choose your own area of concentration and choose the books you read accordingly. Which means (and Janel and Christine will understand my apprehension here) a much greater amount of time in and reliance on the library. On the plus side, you get to study what you're really interested in, and actually have time for it, so I'm sure once I've become acquainted with the system and with the library I'll be much more comfortable here. I still have to add in one more class to get my schedule full, which will hopefully happen over the next few days.

I took a trip into Brighton yesterday for some shopping, with verbal directions thanks to my indispensable and ever-helpful neighbor, Ben, a few hours to spare, and an all-day bus pass, and managed to find my way around and procure most of the items of which I was in need. I located a British 99 pence shop, which is of course twice as expensive as its American counterpart but amusingly similar in title and helpfully diverse in content. Most valuable, I think, was the package of stick tack, with which I was able to spatter my room with photos of all of your wonderful (and often delightfully silly) faces. So my walls are no longer frighteningly bare. I've also taken to propping open my bedroom door.

Thanks to my father, the mystery of the inoperable telephone number has been solved. (If for some reason you don't receive an e-mail with the finally corrected version of that, and would like it, let me know.) Thus I was able to speak to both of my parents--a surpassingly comforting experience. Merci, ma famille!

I still haven't cracked the riddle of setting up internet in my room (the computer is currently unable to find a dialtone) so I'm still forced to make great treks in order to bridge the communication gap electronically, but hopefully that will soon be resolved.

I continue to meet many helpful and friendly people. Tomorrow I'm off to a movie night at the Chaplain's house with some folks I met at church, which I'm really looking forward to, and there are also philosophy student meetings I now know about since I'm enrolled in Metaphysics, which will hopefully provide another place to meet people and engage in some good conversations. Be assured, however, that you are all missed incredibly, in my emotional high points as well as my occasional lows. I hope you are doing well and appreciating that which is familiar in your environment--something you take for granted, often, until it disappears. I love you all.

Lost Child

2005-01-11T00:39:00.000Z

A week into my residence in the United Kingdom, and my first day of classes has left me with the unmistakable feeling of being alone and tossed by the waves in a vast open ocean. The hardest thing, I think, is being so utterly devoid of anything familiar to grab hold of. I took all the advice of packing lightly to heart, but am now regretting my obedience, feeling that the hassle of carting around an extra bag the past few days would have been worth the consolation I now feel I would get from having a few things I recognize scattered about my rather barren bedroom. Call it culture shock, or homesickness, or jet lag, or whatever you want, but I'm at a point where those cautions against giving up and going home, which I thought so absurd when being warned against them in my many orientations, are actually becoming pertinent. Now, noone need worry, I don't think, about when to pick me up at the airport--I'm sure this is a highly temporary condition, which I will soon be over and laughing about. I'm trying to keep a positive attitude while it lasts. At the moment, though, my attempts to see the excitement and adventure of this experience are being combatted by more pessimistic considerations. Like:

My room feels like a jail cell, with its bare white walls and its location at the far end of a cramped hallway between a series of admittedly lavender fire doors which must nonetheless remain constantly and oppressively closed.

I am at the opposite end of the possession spectrum from usual--instead of feeling that I have more in my room than I'll ever have time to use, I am lacking in basic necessities like bath towels, cooking utensils, and dental floss, and have absolutely no clue how to transport myself someplace from which I could procure them.

I have vast swathes of free time, a condition incredibly alien to me, and none of the books I've been long wanting to read or people I never get to spend enough time with, or, really, anything much to do at all.

I'm intimidated by the openendedness of the course structure, through which most work is self-guided rather than teacher-directed--which will, I'm sure, eventually be a breath of fresh air, but at the moment deprives me of yet another potential source of stability in an already unstable and unfamiliar circumstance.

Basically, I am lacking, at the moment, in things to rely on. There are a few small and random things--the lavender doors, the kindness of the people I'm living with, a warm and cozy bed... And of course, there is God--and maybe this is an important growing experience, removing all the other things I usually rely on and forcing me to rely solely on Him, and I'm sure in the end I'll be stronger and thankful for it. And indeed, things like prayer, reading my Bible, and the wonderful and welcoming church service I attended yesterday morning have helped to an extent. And I'm sure in the long run I will recover and soon begin to feel grounded and enjoy myself. But at the moment, and I record this only to get it out from echoing uselessly round in my head and in the interest of completeness in the recording of my experience abroad, and not to cause any of my beloved friends and family who might be reading this concern, I'm feeling a bit lonely, lost, and overwhelmed.

That state wasn't helped by my Quantum Mechanics class today, with its Calculus references I struggle to go back three years to find a context for, and the feeling that everyone in my Creative Drama class already knows each other. Nor by the shortness of the days here, with the rain and early darkness leaving me little time to find my bearings in this new location. A moment of reassurance today did come in Creative Drama, when we spent forty minutes playing theatre games--thank goodness, something I recognized!

Anyway, really, I'm sure I'll be fine soon enough, and I'll definitely be glad to get my whole class schedule worked out, as well, hopefully, as my bedroom a bit decorated, my concept of the town and bus schedule solidified, and a routine set. Must be off now, I hope you are all happy and well and grounded wherever you are. Love always.

The Magic of England

2005-01-09T08:02:00.000Z

Yes, of course, you think, it probably is a bit magical, what with all the green hillsides, the ancient castles, the stone circles and Arthurian legends. But in fact, I'm referring to the once-fantastically-popular card game of Magic, which you might remember from about 1995, or more recently if you're that sort of person. Over the past few days, my flatmate and neighbor, Ben, has been teaching me the game as he played it with Toby (also just learning) and today I was able to show off my newly acquired knowledge by creaming him royally in the first three games I played with this Magic pro. Luck of the draw, of course, each time, but I found it funny, and decided to quit while ahead and stop playing.

Today was a pretty lazy day, involving sleeping through my alarm and watching a 1959 horror film called "The House On Haunted Hill." Two more of my flatmates arrived today--Sofia, who is from Greece, and Jack, who I believe is from Wales. I've also met two other girls in their circle of friends--Helen, also from Wales, and Ruth, who I assume is from England someplace. So mostly I've been hanging out with them. Oh, also had my first British pub experience last night, kind of--we just went into the nearby on-campus bar for a bit to play this gambling-Clue-quiz game, so it was a taste of the ambience (smoky, mainly) more than a full-blown experience quite yet... But I'm sure more will soon enough follow.

I cooked my first proper meal today--eggs with onion, spinach, basil, and mozzerella--although Jack, the dutiful vegetarian, informed me I really should be eating something else with it to get a fully rounded meal. I've got a British accent stuck permanently in my head (so the Curse of the Colin Voice still lives, Luba, if you happened to be reading this and wondering), and am hard-pressed already to keep my American intonations when I speak. Which I don't do a lot of, still trying, as I am, to find my niche, and being perfectly content to sit in quiet hysterics in response to the outlandish stories, scattered puns, and unexpected turns of phrase which the conversation is spiced with, if not actually composed of.

I've set up my phone, finally, and got my number, so if I haven't e-mailed it to you and you'd like it, shoot me an e-mail and I'll pass it along. Ok, I'm going to wrap this up now to try to stay true to my promise of keeping it shorter from here on out. There are so many new and different things here, it's hard to know which of them to describe. If you think of anything crucial you feel I've left out, e-mail or comment and I'll be glad to fill in details. Hope these remain (assuming they began such) interesting in some way--if they get boring and I'm including too much detail, feel free to let me know that as well. Hope you're all well. Classes start in two days--exciting but scary. Till then, likely, unless something fascinating occurs in the interim.

Elizabeth

Am I Oriented Yet?

2005-01-08T03:46:00.000Z

After five days in the country and more orientation meetings than I could shake a stick at (in my current travel-weakened state, at least) I have finally found the time and facilities to make my first British post. How exciting! Even the simple act of typing this message attests to the strangely disorienting minor differences inherent to this mainly similar and yet surprisingly divergent nation. On this British keyboard, there is a pound sign above the number 3, and the quotation mark nestles comfortably, as though it belongs there and always has, directly above the number 2, while the "at" symbol has been demoted to a position amidst the morass of punctuation to the right of the alphabet. Hey, so have the tilde and the number sign! Ok, this might seem trivial and pointless in the face of the many seemingly more significant experiences I have undergone in the past five (or seven, counting travel) days. But it illustrates a key point about the transition from America to her former motherland, Great Britain--it's the tiny things, the little differences you never would have expected and which don't seem to matter in the telling, which really drive home your foreignness in a way larger things, like being surrounded by unfamiliar accents and bombarded with cars from unanticipated directions, are less able to do. Not that those things don't have an impact. Indeed, my first moment of culture shock hit before I had even set foot off American soil, as I stood in line to board my final of four planes to London among the hoard of returning British holidayers and found myself awash in a babble of fast-paced, lilting chatter, with nary an American accent to be heard. And thus commenced, as I shall now begin to describe, in what will hopefully (though unlikelily) be relatively brief terms, the introductory days of my upcoming six months in England.

After a final plane trip beside two increasingly inebriated Brits with very little sleep to relieve my time-zone-muddled brain and body, I arrived at the London airport around 7am local time, to wind through a maze of corridors until I reached the veritable minotaur of the labyrinth--The Customs Official. Determined not to admit any unnecessary riffraff to her beloved homeland, she threw question after pointed question my way, much to my sleep-deprived dismay. ("What is your name?" "What is your favorite color?" etc.) In the end, however, she permitted me to pass, and I impressed myself by managing my way, by train, tube, and luggage-laden trek, to the Study Abroad office, and then to my hotel. As it was right across from Kensington Gardens, and I feared taking a nap would hopelessly derail any hopes of establishing native sleeping habits, I instead passed the afternoon with a delightful stroll through the Gardens, conducting undercover reconnaissance on crucial details such as the side of the path to which the locals tend to keep. I also met my roommate for my time in London, a delightful girl from Colorado with whom I ended up having much in common.

The next few days, amidst the requisite hours of sitting in lecture halls being oriented to everything from British candy conversions (Mars Bar = 3 Musketeers, who knew?) to Parliamentary politics, we took some time to imbibe the local culture through activities such as a boat ride down the Thames, a rousing performance of STOMP, and a meander through the British Museum (where I was delighted to discover my ability to read at least five words in the top line alone of the Greek section of the Rosetta Stone!). But after a few days, it was time for myself and the three others on their way to Sussex through the same organizational service to depart, on train, for our home away from home on England's charming southern coast.

We arrived amidst a sea of fellow Americans and their accompanying luggage, so generally voluminous that our minibus driver, with a glance at my own relatively small collection, inquired whether I was "sure I was really American." I was then led to my room, about which I had been moderately nervous, having been warned that my particular area of residence contained the rather more dilapidated, less modernized flats. My worries were soon to be dispelled, however, most fortunately, by my pleasant if slightly miniaturized (by American standards) accommodations. A small but fully equipped kitchen and dining area neighbor the two hallways off which the flat bedrooms project. My flat will contain (once everyone arrives) six people, myself included, with four on the hallway above and one other off my hall below. (Although the flat contains two separate levels, they are not directly on top of each other, but are rather arranged as two conjoined steps in a staircase of flats covering the surrounding hillside.) My room contains a bed, wardrobe, bedside table, desk, and chest of drawers, as well as two chairs, all small but in quite good condition, and overlooks a nearby grassy knoll and, over the intervening campus, the bright green hillsides of the surrounding Downs. To the flat's crowning glory, as far as I'm concerned, every door in the place is painted a charming lavender. Those who know me well enough will understand that, with a purple portway and a verdant view, I couldn't be cozier. The campus, situated in the midst of bright green "downs" (high, grassy hillsides, as far as I can tell) which, so far, have been tossed in a cool and windy intermittent mist, is similarly well-suited to my tastes.

Since we arrived here, I have met one of my flatmates (my next-door neighbor), a British fellow named Ben, who has been consistently polite and helpful, and his friend Toby, to the two of whom, much to my delight and amusement, I sat for three hours listening last night as they quipped and babbled in rollicking British accents. I've also met a number of other international students, mostly American although I have found a few from Canada and even one, today, from Holland. Most of the British students (including the rest of my flatmates) have not yet arrived, but should begin to do so tomorrow and the next day.

All right, that brings you, minus the content of an overwhelming number of frequently repetitive orientation meetings which are finally, mercifully, drawing to a close (much like this posting), up to date on my activities thus far. I apologize for the lengthiness of this account, and commend you heartily if you have managed to reach this point with only minimal skimming. In the future, hopefully, with more regular internet access, I shall be able to keep these a bit shorter. But I hope they have and shall continue to provide you entertainment, enlightenment, and a sense of the excitement inherent to travel in another country. To my faithful and enduring readers, I wish a happy holidays if you're still on them, an appreciation for the comforts of home if you're there, and a sense of adventure and appreciation for unexpected details wherever you might be. Until next time,

Elizabeth

P.S. Thanks to all of you who commented on my previous entry. A ray of sunshine illuminating my life in this cloudy if wonderful country. Keep it up! (And to those of you who didn't--it's not too late--start now!)

Ahem.

2004-12-09T21:44:00.000Z

So, here is my solution to the question of how to keep people who want to be updated on my comings and goings satisfied while not flooding e-mail inboxes with my admittedly occassionally verbose prose. At the moment I'm not entirely sure how often I shall have the opportunity to post, which will depend upon the internet availability situation, as well, of course, as the level of busyness which I reach. But hopefully these factors will not combine to prevent relatively frequent updates. I hope you enjoy this tale of my months abroad. Comment if you read it so I know people are checking. And don't forget to keep me updated, perhaps by e-mail, or even, if you're feeling nostalgic, by letter! on what you are up to wherever you are up to it at.

Next time I write, it shall be in the year 2005, thousands of miles distant. Until then...