London Town

What do I say about London town as I procrastinate on writing this paper. Yes, that's right, I'm in school too! I know it hasn't seemed like it, but I am actually here in England primarily to finish out my law school studies. I have class four days a week and do work on the weekends like any normal law student, it's just I have better scenery and cheaper (and still better) travel options. Yet, as I sit here working on a fifty page paper for which I must submit a draft on Thursday, all I want to do is blog. I'll try not to procrastinate for too long. So I have been to London twice now. It's farther than I imagined, but not so far that I can't make it there on a weekend. I just haven't really been doing that. It's a bit expensive to make traveling to London a habit. I do have to eat on occasion. I went the third weekend in town with Courtney and Monique. But I also went back to visit my friend Allen (whom I hadn't seen in over 15 years, and the fact that I can say I recall fifteen years ago clearly because i was a teenager is just...mind-blowing.) I love London. I thought it was beautiful and full of all the things that make me love and hate England all at once. People here are actually, perhaps, ruder than New Yorkers. They don't move out of the way when you walk. It's like playing chicken on the sidewalk. But then, there's Big Ben. (look kids! Big Ben!...If you don't know the movie I can't help you) I felt flutters in my stomach. I've only read about this place, but now the iconic images from history books and movies were right in front of me. We saw Buckingham Palace, St. James Park, the craziness that is Trafalgar Square, Westminster Abbey, and just had a really great day. It didn't even rain! (until the end just before we boarded the bus. What can ya do? it's England) I felt like such a tourist. I know I am, but I was genuinely struck by just how overcome with wonder and awe you can be in a city that is so foreign but familiar. I know all the names of the places, but I'm finally seeing them. It was exciting I'm sad to say that when we went into the National Gallery, I couldn't really really enjoy it. I love museums. I love walking around them, reading the descriptions of the pictures, taking that step back to see just what the painting says to me. But my counterparts were not so intrigued. I think it was just a means to get out of the wind and threat of rain that managed to hold off for a few more hours after that. They were more intrigued by the "blue cock" outside the building. I have to say, I found that giant thing quite amusing as well, but it was the National Gallery. And it was free which is a big step up from America and their ridiculous prices just to get inside, let alone to see particular exhibits. One day, I'm going back to London just to see the museums.

On my second trip, Allen showed me a great time. I felt like I got the skinny on what it means to be a Londoner and how to blend a little better. Granted, it will likely not happen on this trip abroad, but just good to know for later. I also took the Underground. That was the most intricate and crazy-looking subway system map that I almost had a heart attack. Whoever thinks New York is hard should really try London. But I figured it out and made my way, solo, to the Tower of London. After the Tower, I marched across Tower bridge and made a right on some random street. I mistakenly embarked on a two or three mile journey to the Globe theater. On my initial glance at the map, I somehow thought it was near tower bridge. No. It's near London Bridge and that mess was far. LOL. But I enjoyed my walk and looking at shops and streets. When I finally arrived, I'd just made it in time for the final tour of the day. And then, I let my Nerdy English Major Flag Fly. I was so excited to see the Globe. I love Shakespeare. LOVE!!!! I have read almost every single play (i think I'm missing a few towards the end of his career) And I, for my senior AP history Project, did a report on the Globe Theater and built a three foot high Globe theater out of wood. I even put a stage in that sucker. lol. I wish I still had it because I was so proud of that thing. Anyway, as I was walking around nearly crying with joy of being there, I felt the power of literature and of those with such creative minds that they actually create it. You can learn history from literature; you learn about the people. their attitudes. Their desires. Their fears. Literature is so powerful the Globe is an example of the power of the Elizabethan playwrights, such as Shakespeare. I sometimes feel at a loss to find such quality and refinement in modern works. But I digress and this short blog is getting longer and longer. Needless to say, the Globe is beautiful, even if it's a recreation. It was like stepping back in time in the best way possible. That day, when I spent so much time alone just wandering, was when I fell in love with London.

A. Baker Contest Entry

Hi Followers, please go the the address below and vote for my video submission.  I am really hoping to break into my legal career with a job working for Save the Children, and this is just the start I need.



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A. Baker Contest Entry

I must live in Bath!

During Valentine's day weekend, I was one of the only law students left in the house. Everyone else was traveling to Amsterdam or to Lisbon. I, however, had chosen this and made arrangements to spend the day in Bath. This trip was more economical and also one of the best decisions I've made so far. Bath is gorgeous!!!

We arrived around mid-day. Once again, I was on UK-study tours. The sun was high and the sky was a wonderful, brilliant blue a the bus rolled into the city. This, i knew, was going to be the perfect trip. In fact, I knew it was the perfect trip to take alone. I would be able to enjoy the city in my own way without worrying about what others wanted to do. We took a quick one hour tour through the entire town. As we walked, I was amused by the man man playing his guitar and singing classic American 80s music. People were walking calmly through the streets, enjoying their relaxing Sunday afternoon. And I felt at home. I felt relaxed and at ease with life. After the tour, I took the time to walk around alone. I found the entire place a little magical. The story behind the father and son building and designing the layout of the city. The beautiful architecture. The royal crescent and how it was conceived and built to reflect the buyers and how much of the building they wanted to own. It all made me want to be in Bath for the rest of my trip. It was designed for opulence and beauty as well as serenity. I tried to imagine what my life would be like in this place. Could I sit and write my books while overlooking the beautiful lawn that stretches out from the royal crescent like a warm carpet before a fire? Could I draw inspiration from the cafes and the Roman bath house that is a reminder that even the ancient Romans believed that this place had healing powers and was a place for repose and thought and rejuvenation. Perhaps for me it could be a place for writing and finding the creative inspiration I've been looking for. I walked up and down the streets for hours alone just enjoying the atmosphere. Finally, a group of us were permitted to enter the Roman Bath House. Though I was not a history major or an archeology major, my love of both poured forth from me as I moved from room to room looking at what had been found of this ancient house of respite. The archeologists and historians have, in some areas, recreated what they believe the house looked like during the height of its popularity. I could imagine that it was quite posh and placed you at the center of high society to be able to come here and bath in the warm, healing water. Sigh. To have seen it at that time and been able to experience it...

After I finished my time in the Roman Bath House, I stopped by a very popular dessert shop and bought some gelato. Again, I wandered slowly around, eating my gelato and thinking about how somehow, someday, I want this town to be a regular part of my life. I stopped next to a little garden and just watched the day go by. And that was one of the most perfect moments I've had since being in Europe. The world almost seemed to sit still.

Amsterdam and Bruges

So there's nothing like a wonderful trip to another country to make you appreciate history, different laws, and the beauty of chocolate. February 7 - 9, my roommates and I headed to Amsterdam and Bruges for a weekend getaway. We used UK Study tours which has to be the most helpful, and cheap, way to travel while we're here. For the price of our plane tickets to Paris, we received bus fair, hotel, and tours. This left much more room for taking in all the benefits of being in these unique European cities. On Amsterdam I loved Amsterdam and the way the city sits on these beautiful canals. Everyone rides bikes, and apparently Hollanders, on average, the tallest people in the world. When we arrived, it was pouring rain. Like sheets of rain were coming down and the wind was whipping it across my face. Sadly, I didn't have a hat and my umbrella was proving to be the most difficult. So what do we do, we decide to buy hats. :-( Womp womp, I just got my hair braided and hats are a bit difficult to make work with the increased circumference of my head. Courtney gets a cute hat, as does Monique. I, however, am left with a head that is getting rained on and it's cold. Cold. COLD!!!!! We makes the most of it though, and grab lunch as soon as we get there. Then, as if the Gods have heard my prayers the rain begins to slow and we are off to explore what has to be one of the most eclectically-styled cities. The buildings are narrow and about three stories tall. At first, I thought it reminded me of parts of Brooklyn, but, no. Not quite as the style is distinctly different from the classic brownstone. However, I'm in love at once as we march through the streets in this giant group of mostly South American visiting students.

So the second picture above involves a lot of Heineken Beer. We went to the Heineken Experiences, which is a place I would encourage all those who partake in alcoholic beverages to go to if you're ever in Amsterdam. It starts off kinda slow and uninteresting...Hops this and Barley that... but then it becomes a bit more interactive. We all seemed to have fun drinking beer, grinding barley, tasting Hop-water and drinking beer, and laughing and drinking beer. All in all, it was a good day at the Heineken Factory. :-) That night, we did go into the red light district. It wasn't quite as out of control as I envisioned, or perhaps i just have a vivid imagination. And that was Amsterdam. Give or take a few details. After Amsterdam, we went to Bruges. It has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. While walking on cobblestone streets in my boots was not pleasant, I really enjoyed the look and feel of the small city. It was a remarkably beautiful day, though it began as if the sky was going to fall. Walking around, it felt as if time had rewound to a simpler time where people had time to stroll streets, eat long lunches, and just enjoy being alive.

When we finished our day of beauty and tasty food, we headed back to England. Our mission was to stay awake on the return journey so we could experience the "chunnel". I have to say there is nothing quick or fun about the tunnel that runs under the English Channel and connects England to France. It was the longest, most absurd wait just to get on the thing. Once you're on, you're car is in the equivalent of a locker with cars parked back to back. It wasn't something to stay awake for, but I can say I saw it and experiences it. And going through customs on the other side was absolutely miserable. I've never experienced such horrible customs agents who were bitchy for no reason. They asked so many questions that were irrelevant just to try and get you to say something questionable. Then, there were a number of people on our trip, students, who spoke different languages and when they couldn't understand questions, it was as if the British agents were pissed. They treated them like idiots even though the students had all the paperwork from Oxford and Cambridge to say that they were in fact students. Why this was unsatisfactory, I do not know. I was happy when we finally left.

Police This!!!!

Making it a group effort to keep the place clean only allows the slobs to remain slobs! So I started this blog about a month ago when the "resident assistants" decided that the use of the kitchen in the house - the misuse and abuse - had reached epic proportions. Undergrads cooking in the middle of the night, the introduction of 19-year-olds to a society where drinking is legal at 18, proved to be the undoing of our kitchen happiness. Each weekend turns into a drunken tragedy with screaming, obnoxious teenagers (and occasionally American-style of legal age drunken adults) roaming the halls and bathrooms looking for new ways to be disgusting. This often ends with dishes strewn all over the house, empty dishwashers remaining empty while the dishes accumulate on counters where nasty behinds and feet rested around 3am. It's like a frat house. Unfortunately, the law students are constantly blamed for this jungle-style mess because our own RA is often MIA or just as drunk as the undergrads. It's unfortunate that the only sober person is a 26-year-old PhD student who mostly sits and eats chocolate and isn't really respected by most of his charges. SMH. I find it so disappointing that I'm here in a foreign world wishing for the comfort of my Athens apartment with my roommate and her quirky cat. Alas, I'm here where the solution has been to assign people days to to be responsible for coming back and cleaning up after each other when necessary. The kitchen police regime. Sadly, what this means for many is that they will continue to not clean and there is some nanny to come behind them and clean. It's actually quite ridiculous how a group of intelligent, educated people can easily be reduced to illogical, ignorant behavior when transported to another country. Accountability...gone. I am the oldest person in a house full of drunk young adults and it really just makes me want to scream. This will continue to come up, but I have much more important updates to make.

Losing Pounds to Gay Paris

Sorry it's been so long, but I have been having such a great time not being in the states that I lost track of the fact that I hadn't blogged in over a week. Much has happened, though only about ten percent of it is likely to be of interest to anyone other than me. Generally, Oxford is very much like being in my first year of college. I walk everywhere. Having lived in New York, I figured walking wouldn't be very different from the ten or fifteen blocks I walked nearly everyday to get to class or to work or to the club wearing four-inch heels when thin, non-platform heels were in vogue. No! I was wrong. I'm certainly not 18 or in my early twenties, nor am I carrying the same body I had then (though I think the body I have now is just as fly). It's not the same. Part of the difference is also that I'm walking miles and miles a day. There's no bodega on the corner where I can purchase small necessities or the random dinner. I have to walk half a mile to the right or a mile and some change to the left to get out of the neighborhood and purchase anything. Not really what's up. However, I'm looking forward to the pounds that I will be losing (apparently both in my belly and in my wallet). As is the nature of being a student taking advantage of such a unique experience, you are forced to part with some things whether you like it or not. The pounds on my body, I want to lose, yes. The pound in my wallet that are worth so much more than the little dollars in my bank account are making this trip a bit difficult to navigate financially. I will make it work though. Last weekend, I went to Paris. BEAUTIFUL!!!! I was so happy to be there, I wanted to do everything we'd talked about in my high school french classes. I wanted to tell Monsieur Meyer that we could indeed stroll along the Champs Elysees because now there are shops and restaurants lining it. (You didn't need to take ten points off my Paris Trip project. Punk! no, i'm not bitter.) Though the planning of this first weekend trip was a little rocky, we made it and for what was far more affordable than anticipated. Our hotel was right off the Rue de Carnot and within walking distance to the Arc de Triomphe. We went the first night to this monument because it was closest, and then headed to dinner. This is where my trip to Gay Paris turned sour for a moment. Everyone who knows me knows I have food allergies. Not to everything, and not to the typical shell fish or peanut or nuts in general. I'm allergic to Pinenuts (pignon) and eggplant (aubergine) and coconuts (noix de coco). We ordered garlic bread as an appetizer. Safe choice...not. I was eating that bread like a champ before I felt that familiar need to empty my stomach into the nearest porcelain bowl available. Something was in the bread or in the oil we poured on it. Sigh. So here I am without benadryl or anything and i'm having a nut allergy in a country where I am not fluent enough to really have a proper conversation, let alone explain that I need allergy medicine ASAP. So what do I do? I leave the restaurant with just my coat and wallet and begin to walk in the direction we'd been exploring. I walk alone. I walk quickly. I stop in a hotel and through a very thick throat ask where the pharmacy is and they reply, in English. Yes! I got into the pharmacy, which was actually quite swanky, and got some allergy medicine. Saved! but of course, I couldn't eat anything really for the next few hours while my system regained control of itself and the swelling settled. But I was alive and hadn't had to go to the hospital. Clearly that would be the worst to happen, but I felt like this trip began to target me for random not so nice happenings. The next day, we caught a tour bus that would take us around Paris, allow us to hop off at any monument and then hop back on when the next bust came, all for a single price paid up front. Exciting. We climbed the stairs of the Eiffel Tower (to the first observation deck only. those stairs are a bitch) and then we went to the Louvre. We saw the bride with all the locks on it. My friend kept calling it the "love bridge" though I'm sure the French prefer the more technical name (pont des arts). Then, we headed on to Notre Dame. smh. We get off the bus and immediately, I'm aware there are a dozen or so seagulls or miner birds or whatever swarming around the bridge we have to cross to get to the Cathedrale de Notre Dame. I cross fairly quickly, not stopping to take any pictures of any sort. What are my companions doing? Taking pictures. I think about it. I go back to join them. Then, we all proceed together. Why? Why didn't I just stay put? (because i'm an idiot) I am immediately, as we begin walking, shat upon by a bird. Yes. Shat upon. It landed on my back and shoulder. My friends were stunned and appalled and I kept thinking, as any girl would, please don't let this be in my hair. Luckily, that prayer was answered. My friends used napkins to get the poop off and then the Cathedrale was beautiful. I kept reminding myself that in some cultures, this pooping experience would be deemed good luck. I'll let you know! For now, I'm back in Oxford and back to being a student. I'll be sure to fill you in on the next adventure for the Girl Next door. I leave you with a few photos from Paris to brighten your day. It is truly a happy place to be. Hence it is called Gay Paris.