Congratulations to Shea and Andrew!
A lovely wedding on Saturday, filled with old and new friends, old and new memories, reminding ourselves of the meaning of love and hope and promise. A wonderful day with two dear friends in Staunton on Sunday, sitting under a breezy ceiling fan and talking for hours, just like we have on and off for four years, since those days in Stith. And today, looking forward to seeing Zan.
I have very little to complain about in this life.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Round and Round
I just feel so frustrated right now. Not unhappy, there's a difference, but so damn frustrated. I think maybe I've been gone too long. I have this itch to start working on my thesis again, but all of my books and resources are in Williamsburg. And, since I can't do that, and since I'm currently unemployed until August (which sucks, by the way. I really miss having my own income, and this is the first time since sophomore year of college that I haven't had a paying job... or two. And at least before that I had 9-3, five day a week, volunteer position at the Smithsonian, which felt like a job.), I feel that I ought to be being creative and productive in other ways. The problem is that I'm feeling overly critical of myself lately. I try to read fiction and think, "This is your chance to do all of those things you say you would do if you weren't in school!" So, guiltily, I put the book down.
Then, I grab my camera all set to get back into photography, take a picture and think, "This is crap." I get out my clay, make a new ring, all shiny and pretty with a crystal in the middle, and think, "I could have done better." I try to write fiction or poems and think, "These sound young/pretentious." All of my creative ideas are falling flat with me. I feel like I'm being cut off at every pass, with every idea and every person.
I'm a spinning top looking for a clear direction.
Barring that, here are a few of the photos that I did find decent-ish.
(Sphinx, Sphinx, and the outfit I'm wearing to Shea's wedding tomorrow; photos are mine, please do not repost without attribution)
Then, I grab my camera all set to get back into photography, take a picture and think, "This is crap." I get out my clay, make a new ring, all shiny and pretty with a crystal in the middle, and think, "I could have done better." I try to write fiction or poems and think, "These sound young/pretentious." All of my creative ideas are falling flat with me. I feel like I'm being cut off at every pass, with every idea and every person.
I'm a spinning top looking for a clear direction.
Barring that, here are a few of the photos that I did find decent-ish.
(Sphinx, Sphinx, and the outfit I'm wearing to Shea's wedding tomorrow; photos are mine, please do not repost without attribution)
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Just our hands clasped so tight
The image of clasped hands can mean so much. The clasped hands of a nervous girl waiting for her entrance in a play two years ago; the clasped hands of a girl in a theatre, waiting with excitement for a much-anticipated show; the clasped hands of that same girl yearning with all she has to be a part of what she sees in a theatre in Stratford-Upon-Avon. And more: the clasped hands of lovers, meeting and parting again and again; their clasped hands as they embark together into the dark.
What can I say of Stratford-Upon-Avon and the RSC? To me, this is everything I want. This small English town, full of life, energy, shops, history, and above all, Shakespeare. Being here again I feel the same emotions I felt nearly two and a half years ago when I saw the Henry VI Trilogy— such an intense knowing that here is where I want to be, that this type of theatre is what I want to help create. I’ve been, in small ways, beginning to inch towards that goal, but it is still so distant. But being here I remember again how certain I am that I know what I want in life, and I remember why I tell people that I want to be a dramaturg, or to some a literary manager, or an artistic director—whatever words they can best understand my dreams. It’s not some abstract thing to tell people so they won’t question me further about my plans after graduate school: these are my plans.
In the past two days, I have seen both King Lear and Antony and Cleopatra. King Lear was flawless, and Antony and Cleopatra striking. The RSC is… beautiful. I am perfectly convinced that they can make me love any Shakespeare play; I was lukewarm towards King Lear before, but now! The image of Lear standing in the rain with his fool is one I will never forget. And Antony and Cleopatra—watching this show was sheer joy. At times I could still mouth along with the lines.
When we bought our tickets for 1 Henry IV, an Englishman in front of us said he had seen a crap version of A&C at the Globe, but that the one at the RSC was quite good. When we asked him what was wrong with it he said, “Antony is supposed to be a colossus and they played him as if he were a bank manger, while they played Cleopatra like a tart.” He continued, “They are both supposed to be majestic, and the power struggle between them makes the play dynamic.”
How incredibly accurate. Of course, in the play, each is a little proud and a little crazy, and the politics of the world barge in on their happy harmony causing rather terrible rows, but that makes the play fun to watch. What’s theatre without some conflict?
But these are not two hormonal teenagers like Romeo and Juliet, nor is this the superficial love of Miranda and Ferdinand. Antony and Cleopatra are both older, they know their own hearts and minds, they have both had past relationships (Antony with Fulvia, Cleopatra with Caesar), and while those loves were not untrue, what they have for each other is so certain as to cause them to follow each other into the dark.
Today my mother and I went to the Shakespeare birthplace, and in one of the several introductory rooms, the film narrator said, “No other playwright has so impacted our lives like William Shakespeare.” I thought to myself, “Some lives more than others.” For without Shakespeare—and the subsequent club Shakespeare in the Dark (to which my dear friend Mike Johnson inadvertently introduced me before we even knew each others names), my dreams of working at a Shakespearean theatre, the hours spent both with my books in academic study and in the playhouse itself—my life would be a much lonelier, poorer place. Here’s to the Bard.
For the lad of all lads was a Warwickshire lad!
~Ode to Shakespeare, David Garrick, 1769
What can I say of Stratford-Upon-Avon and the RSC? To me, this is everything I want. This small English town, full of life, energy, shops, history, and above all, Shakespeare. Being here again I feel the same emotions I felt nearly two and a half years ago when I saw the Henry VI Trilogy— such an intense knowing that here is where I want to be, that this type of theatre is what I want to help create. I’ve been, in small ways, beginning to inch towards that goal, but it is still so distant. But being here I remember again how certain I am that I know what I want in life, and I remember why I tell people that I want to be a dramaturg, or to some a literary manager, or an artistic director—whatever words they can best understand my dreams. It’s not some abstract thing to tell people so they won’t question me further about my plans after graduate school: these are my plans.
In the past two days, I have seen both King Lear and Antony and Cleopatra. King Lear was flawless, and Antony and Cleopatra striking. The RSC is… beautiful. I am perfectly convinced that they can make me love any Shakespeare play; I was lukewarm towards King Lear before, but now! The image of Lear standing in the rain with his fool is one I will never forget. And Antony and Cleopatra—watching this show was sheer joy. At times I could still mouth along with the lines.
When we bought our tickets for 1 Henry IV, an Englishman in front of us said he had seen a crap version of A&C at the Globe, but that the one at the RSC was quite good. When we asked him what was wrong with it he said, “Antony is supposed to be a colossus and they played him as if he were a bank manger, while they played Cleopatra like a tart.” He continued, “They are both supposed to be majestic, and the power struggle between them makes the play dynamic.”
How incredibly accurate. Of course, in the play, each is a little proud and a little crazy, and the politics of the world barge in on their happy harmony causing rather terrible rows, but that makes the play fun to watch. What’s theatre without some conflict?
But these are not two hormonal teenagers like Romeo and Juliet, nor is this the superficial love of Miranda and Ferdinand. Antony and Cleopatra are both older, they know their own hearts and minds, they have both had past relationships (Antony with Fulvia, Cleopatra with Caesar), and while those loves were not untrue, what they have for each other is so certain as to cause them to follow each other into the dark.
Today my mother and I went to the Shakespeare birthplace, and in one of the several introductory rooms, the film narrator said, “No other playwright has so impacted our lives like William Shakespeare.” I thought to myself, “Some lives more than others.” For without Shakespeare—and the subsequent club Shakespeare in the Dark (to which my dear friend Mike Johnson inadvertently introduced me before we even knew each others names), my dreams of working at a Shakespearean theatre, the hours spent both with my books in academic study and in the playhouse itself—my life would be a much lonelier, poorer place. Here’s to the Bard.
For the lad of all lads was a Warwickshire lad!
~Ode to Shakespeare, David Garrick, 1769
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere
I have noticed that people fall on one side or the other: Prince Hal or Hotspur. They are passionately devoted to one while being lukewarm towards the other. Truly, as Hal says, "two stars keep not their motion in one sphere."
I am now a Prince Hal girl. After six years of being pro-Hotspur, my mind has been completely changed in the course of an afternoon. I've always liked Hal, but been a die-hard fan of Hotspur. Today's performance of 1 Henry IV at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre in London has changed all of that.
But to begin at the beginning! The past two days have been incredibly fun. Yesterday my parents and I went to Cardiff, Wales, to see the Doctor Who Exhibit and to visit places where both Doctor Who and Torchwood were filmed. The Doctor Who Exhibit was lovely-- I got to see Daleks, Cybermen, Clockwork Men, a Weeping Angel, costumes worn by David Tennent, John Barrowman, Billie Piper, Freema Agyeman, Kylie Minogue and Catherine Tate, plus about a thousand different props. Then, just a short walk from the exhibit, was TORCHWOOD TOWER! It was covered in strawberries to advertise some festival or other, but there it was! We took obligatory pictures, then headed down to Mermaid Quay to see the restaurant where Owen and Diane had their first date in an episode, and we ourselves ate lunch at a Cafe Rouge (one of my favorites from my days in Bath). Just after lunch, we found Ianto's Door, the true entrance to the hub, where Gwen delivers the pizza in the episode "Everything Changes." We also noticed that the entire area was called Roald Dahl Plass, which made me very happy since I love Roald Dahl's stories.
After spending time Doctor Who-ing it up, we took a bus to Cardiff City Center to take a look at Cardiff Castle and walk the grounds. So full of history-- they had this fantastically creative film that used no words, but depicted the past 2000 years through the journal of a girl from 2010. It's a bit difficult to explain, but it was awesome. It ended with the screen rising, giving the audience a view of the Keep, and the last thing to become visible was the Welsh Flag flying proudly in the blue sky. I almost cried, it was so beautiful.
We finished up the day back in London with dinner at this great Indian place called Punjab.
Today was spent in London. My dad had to go back home today, sadly, but my mom and I still had a good time. I got to see Garrick's Theatre Royal Drury Lane (yes, the real one, except it was rebuilt in 1812) though we didn't get a chance to take the tour, we visited Platform 9 and 3/4ths at King's Cross Station, we walked around Kensington, and, most importantly we saw 1 Henry IV at the Globe.
1 Henry IV has been my favorite Shakespeare play since I was seventeen years old and still in high school. It perfectly combines comedy, drama, and history, and effortlessly switches between the two, even within the same scene. It's a gorgeous play. So, you can imagine how excited I was to see that it was playing at the Globe! As we bought our tickets I excitedly quoted to my mother lines such as The Douglas killing the King's wardrobe piece by piece, Glendower and his spirits in the vasty deep, and, most importantly, told my mom about the wonders of Hotspur.
But then! Oh then-- Hal. In almost a flash, my love of Hotspur faded as the actor playing Prince Hal began to shine (as brightly as the sun, some might say). The actor playing Hotspur was fine, but either he didn't get very good direction or I just didn't like his interpretation of the role, whereas Prince Hal-- I have no words. He was superb, sublime, everything you could want in the wayward, noble Prince of Wales. His charisma stole every scene, and his interactions with Falstaff-- well, goodness! Falstaff was played by Roger Allam, so of course he was the creme de la creme, as well. I seriously have never loved Prince Hal more, whether on the stage or on the page. A thoroughly captivating three hours.
And the Globe! After my independent study in Renaissance Performance, seeing a play at the Recreated Globe Theatre just made my day. We bought food outside and took it in, we sat in the middle gallery (my mom refused to be a groundling, and given all the schoolgroups in the yard I'd say it was a good choice), and guh. The staging, the jig, the music, the cannon, everything! While it wasn't quite Andrew Gurr's The Shakespearean Stage come to life, it very nearly approximated it.
We ended the day at pub called The Prince of Wales (I joked that it was in honor of Prince Hal) with a Steak and Ale Pie and mash. How wonderfully English! And tomorrow it's off to even more the Bard-- Stratford-Upon-Avon, where they joke that they have one industry: Shakespeare!
I am now a Prince Hal girl. After six years of being pro-Hotspur, my mind has been completely changed in the course of an afternoon. I've always liked Hal, but been a die-hard fan of Hotspur. Today's performance of 1 Henry IV at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre in London has changed all of that.
But to begin at the beginning! The past two days have been incredibly fun. Yesterday my parents and I went to Cardiff, Wales, to see the Doctor Who Exhibit and to visit places where both Doctor Who and Torchwood were filmed. The Doctor Who Exhibit was lovely-- I got to see Daleks, Cybermen, Clockwork Men, a Weeping Angel, costumes worn by David Tennent, John Barrowman, Billie Piper, Freema Agyeman, Kylie Minogue and Catherine Tate, plus about a thousand different props. Then, just a short walk from the exhibit, was TORCHWOOD TOWER! It was covered in strawberries to advertise some festival or other, but there it was! We took obligatory pictures, then headed down to Mermaid Quay to see the restaurant where Owen and Diane had their first date in an episode, and we ourselves ate lunch at a Cafe Rouge (one of my favorites from my days in Bath). Just after lunch, we found Ianto's Door, the true entrance to the hub, where Gwen delivers the pizza in the episode "Everything Changes." We also noticed that the entire area was called Roald Dahl Plass, which made me very happy since I love Roald Dahl's stories.
After spending time Doctor Who-ing it up, we took a bus to Cardiff City Center to take a look at Cardiff Castle and walk the grounds. So full of history-- they had this fantastically creative film that used no words, but depicted the past 2000 years through the journal of a girl from 2010. It's a bit difficult to explain, but it was awesome. It ended with the screen rising, giving the audience a view of the Keep, and the last thing to become visible was the Welsh Flag flying proudly in the blue sky. I almost cried, it was so beautiful.
We finished up the day back in London with dinner at this great Indian place called Punjab.
Today was spent in London. My dad had to go back home today, sadly, but my mom and I still had a good time. I got to see Garrick's Theatre Royal Drury Lane (yes, the real one, except it was rebuilt in 1812) though we didn't get a chance to take the tour, we visited Platform 9 and 3/4ths at King's Cross Station, we walked around Kensington, and, most importantly we saw 1 Henry IV at the Globe.
1 Henry IV has been my favorite Shakespeare play since I was seventeen years old and still in high school. It perfectly combines comedy, drama, and history, and effortlessly switches between the two, even within the same scene. It's a gorgeous play. So, you can imagine how excited I was to see that it was playing at the Globe! As we bought our tickets I excitedly quoted to my mother lines such as The Douglas killing the King's wardrobe piece by piece, Glendower and his spirits in the vasty deep, and, most importantly, told my mom about the wonders of Hotspur.
But then! Oh then-- Hal. In almost a flash, my love of Hotspur faded as the actor playing Prince Hal began to shine (as brightly as the sun, some might say). The actor playing Hotspur was fine, but either he didn't get very good direction or I just didn't like his interpretation of the role, whereas Prince Hal-- I have no words. He was superb, sublime, everything you could want in the wayward, noble Prince of Wales. His charisma stole every scene, and his interactions with Falstaff-- well, goodness! Falstaff was played by Roger Allam, so of course he was the creme de la creme, as well. I seriously have never loved Prince Hal more, whether on the stage or on the page. A thoroughly captivating three hours.
And the Globe! After my independent study in Renaissance Performance, seeing a play at the Recreated Globe Theatre just made my day. We bought food outside and took it in, we sat in the middle gallery (my mom refused to be a groundling, and given all the schoolgroups in the yard I'd say it was a good choice), and guh. The staging, the jig, the music, the cannon, everything! While it wasn't quite Andrew Gurr's The Shakespearean Stage come to life, it very nearly approximated it.
We ended the day at pub called The Prince of Wales (I joked that it was in honor of Prince Hal) with a Steak and Ale Pie and mash. How wonderfully English! And tomorrow it's off to even more the Bard-- Stratford-Upon-Avon, where they joke that they have one industry: Shakespeare!
Monday, June 14, 2010
Fairy Tale Castle
Edinburgh ended nicely, with a tour of The Real Mary King's Close (a neighborhood from the 17th-century preserved underground) and a bit of shopping on Princes Street, but for the past two days my family and I have been residents of Dalhousie Castle in Scotland. It's been truly magical. I have my own room (The Cockpen Room) and my parents are in a room called Robert the Bruce. My room is lovely-- very eighteenth-century with soaring ceilings, a canopied four-poster bed, and its own balcony.
The castle was built around 1300 and originally belonged to the Ramsay Clan. King Edward I (Edward Longshanks) of England stayed here before beseiging somewhere, King Henry IV actually DID beseige here, and Queen Victoria took tea in the Library. The whole thing is dripping with history. We walked the grounds this morning and found an old watchtower, which we were later told was built 700 years ago, too. It's in ruins now, but you can go in and look up to the sky. The whole things looks so Arthurian. Kay mentioned that the castle should rent out medieval costumes for people
like meto wonder the grounds in, and honestly I think they would make money off of that venture.
The castle also has a Falconry. They have the most beautiful birds of prey, and we talked to a few of the falconers about how to care for the birds, the different types, and how to train a bird for the sport of falconry. My favorites were the owls. The big ones are so majestic and the little ones are so cute. We watched some people learning to fly them, but I opted to try archery instead of falconry. The morning was beautiful for it! By chance, I ended up being the only person signed up for archery, so I got a private lesson (or private 'tuition', as the falconer put it). I got to shoot for almost an entire hour. Most of my arrows hit the target, but they were all hitting in the bottom right-hand corner on the black or blue instead of in the red or on the yellow bullseye. As we were nearing the end of the hour, I told the falconer about my love for Shakespeare (she was shocked that Shakespeare was popular in the USA... yeah), so as I prepared my final arrow she shouted, "Get a gold for Shakespeare!" and I DID! I somehow hit the bullseye! It was absolutely fantastic!
The afternoon was spent eating lunch in the Orangery, visiting the oh-so-21st-century spa (though the power went out briefly and they had to guide me around the medieval corridors with a candle, that was pretty cool!), and seeing yet ANOTHER wedding. Apparently Scotspeople get married any old day of the week, and wedding season also equals bagpipe season. This wedding was gorgeous, too, but how could it not be, at a castle? Also, the falconry offers the use of an owl to fly your wedding rings down the aisle in a silk bag straight to the best man. Super cute.
Dinner at the castle is at their restaurant called The Dungeon, which is, predictably, in the dungeon. The food is excellent-- I had the duck both nights, and tonight I had a strawberry consumme and Jammy Dodger for dessert. The duck, oddly enough, came with popcorn. I have now eaten popcorn with a fork.
We leave tomorrow for London (the best city on Earth) and I'm very excited to ride the Tube, revisit the Tower, possibly the Globe, Covent Gardens, and especially Drury Lane, but somehow I can't shake the feeling that all of this is just a jaunt away from Bath. I was looking at a magazine in the spa today and saw a Mark's and Spencer's add and thought, "Oh, yes, I should go there when I get home," and 'home' was Bath. I'm a little sad that I don't actually get to visit Bath this trip... how strange. I was rather happy to leave there when I did. But now... I kind of want to go back for a visit, though I know it couldn't possibly be the same. But a Snakebite at the Huntsman, a walk down the towpath, high tea at the Pump Room, and a stroll up Milsom Street would certainly be welcome. Even Oxford would be like a familiar hug, the England I know and love, the England where I lived.
The castle was built around 1300 and originally belonged to the Ramsay Clan. King Edward I (Edward Longshanks) of England stayed here before beseiging somewhere, King Henry IV actually DID beseige here, and Queen Victoria took tea in the Library. The whole thing is dripping with history. We walked the grounds this morning and found an old watchtower, which we were later told was built 700 years ago, too. It's in ruins now, but you can go in and look up to the sky. The whole things looks so Arthurian. Kay mentioned that the castle should rent out medieval costumes for people
The castle also has a Falconry. They have the most beautiful birds of prey, and we talked to a few of the falconers about how to care for the birds, the different types, and how to train a bird for the sport of falconry. My favorites were the owls. The big ones are so majestic and the little ones are so cute. We watched some people learning to fly them, but I opted to try archery instead of falconry. The morning was beautiful for it! By chance, I ended up being the only person signed up for archery, so I got a private lesson (or private 'tuition', as the falconer put it). I got to shoot for almost an entire hour. Most of my arrows hit the target, but they were all hitting in the bottom right-hand corner on the black or blue instead of in the red or on the yellow bullseye. As we were nearing the end of the hour, I told the falconer about my love for Shakespeare (she was shocked that Shakespeare was popular in the USA... yeah), so as I prepared my final arrow she shouted, "Get a gold for Shakespeare!" and I DID! I somehow hit the bullseye! It was absolutely fantastic!
The afternoon was spent eating lunch in the Orangery, visiting the oh-so-21st-century spa (though the power went out briefly and they had to guide me around the medieval corridors with a candle, that was pretty cool!), and seeing yet ANOTHER wedding. Apparently Scotspeople get married any old day of the week, and wedding season also equals bagpipe season. This wedding was gorgeous, too, but how could it not be, at a castle? Also, the falconry offers the use of an owl to fly your wedding rings down the aisle in a silk bag straight to the best man. Super cute.
Dinner at the castle is at their restaurant called The Dungeon, which is, predictably, in the dungeon. The food is excellent-- I had the duck both nights, and tonight I had a strawberry consumme and Jammy Dodger for dessert. The duck, oddly enough, came with popcorn. I have now eaten popcorn with a fork.
We leave tomorrow for London (the best city on Earth) and I'm very excited to ride the Tube, revisit the Tower, possibly the Globe, Covent Gardens, and especially Drury Lane, but somehow I can't shake the feeling that all of this is just a jaunt away from Bath. I was looking at a magazine in the spa today and saw a Mark's and Spencer's add and thought, "Oh, yes, I should go there when I get home," and 'home' was Bath. I'm a little sad that I don't actually get to visit Bath this trip... how strange. I was rather happy to leave there when I did. But now... I kind of want to go back for a visit, though I know it couldn't possibly be the same. But a Snakebite at the Huntsman, a walk down the towpath, high tea at the Pump Room, and a stroll up Milsom Street would certainly be welcome. Even Oxford would be like a familiar hug, the England I know and love, the England where I lived.
Friday, June 11, 2010
One and One Hundred (and Scotland!)
Well, everyone, this blog is one year old today! Happy Birthday, blog! And, by random coincidence, I believe this is also the 100th post I've written here. Now, normally I'd take a moment reflect fondly on the passage of time, how much has changed since last June, everything I've learned about history and myself, how happy I am with life right now etc., except that I'm in Scotland. And frankly, that's probably far more interesting than anything else I would say about this past year (on my blog, anyway. *innocent smile*).
I arrived in Edinburgh yesterday. It was, predictably, cloudy and cold when we landed and I immediately wished I had brought a warmer jacket. Our room wasn't ready at the hotel, so we wandered up Princes Street for a bit. I got a Hot Chocolate Milano from Caffe Nero (oh, how I've missed those!) and I saw some lovely stores that I've really missed, such as Barrett's Shoes, Boots Pharmacy, and Debenhams (which carries Jane Norman, one of my favorite stores in Bath!). It remained cloudy. The wind picked up. Luckily, our room was soon ready and as we walked back towards the hotel the sun began to peek through the clouds. By dinnertime, the sun shone broadly and the walk to Rose Street for dinner was actually quite nice. We ate at a pub called Dirty Dick's, est. 1859. Fantastic food (I had a Steak and Ale Pie and Sticky Toffee Pudding) and a really hilarious waiter. After dinner I pretty much crashed into bed, but not before noticing that it was still light out at 9:30 at night.
And still light at 4:00 AM. Yes, that's when I woke up for a good hour and a half. Talked to Zan online, browsed Facebook, prayed for sleep, and finally it came! I actually got up a little before 9:00, and then we were off onto the Hop-On Hop-Off Bus Tour. Today we spent most of our time at Edinburgh Castle. BEAUTIFUL. I got to see Mary, Queen of Scot's bedchamber, the room in which James VI/I was born, the Crown Jewels of Scotland, the Stone of Destiny, and (the most romantic part!) a traditional Scottish wedding in Saint Margaret's Chapel. The Chapel itself was built in roughly 1150 and is not much bigger than a good-sized walk-in closet, but crowded inside we could see bridesmaids and friends, and outside a bagpiper played. Then from around a medieval gate appeared an old-fashioned Rolls Royce and inside sat the bride and her father! The bagpiper and bridesmaids came down the path to greet the bride, then in procession they walked up to the chapel. The whole thing was absolutely gorgeous, and at the end they fired a cannon.
My mom and I spent the rest of the afternoon touring around the city. We saw, among other things, the Scottish Parliament (an odd, African-themed building), the Royal Mile, the filming of a Bollywood movie, a man dressed as William Wallace just chilling on the street, the outside of museum called Dynamic Earth which advertises a 3-D video narrated by David Tennent, and Holyrood Palace, where the Queen resides on her visits of state. Tomorrow we plan to go back to a few places for a more in depth look, plus perhaps we will visit a Scotch Whisky tasting place, Mary King's Close, and (if we're lucky!) take a ghost tour. There's also this graveyard with a touching story about a dog who sat by his master's grave everyday for 14 years before he himself died; the city has erected a statue to the dog, and the cemetery has a shop called "The Creepy Wee Shop in the Cemetery," so we might go there tomorrow also.
I've decided I quite like Scotland. I knew I loved the Highlands, but due to the rain and cold and jetlag yesterday I felt a bit dubious about Edinburgh. But after today I feel quite certain that I will love this place, too. Mostly it just feels really, really nice to be back in Britain after so long away. :)
Heading out to dinner now! Three cheers for pub grub!
EDIT: Ended up at eating at Pizza Express. Bliss! Also, it's 10:45 at night and still not completely dark outside.
(Pictures to come!)
I arrived in Edinburgh yesterday. It was, predictably, cloudy and cold when we landed and I immediately wished I had brought a warmer jacket. Our room wasn't ready at the hotel, so we wandered up Princes Street for a bit. I got a Hot Chocolate Milano from Caffe Nero (oh, how I've missed those!) and I saw some lovely stores that I've really missed, such as Barrett's Shoes, Boots Pharmacy, and Debenhams (which carries Jane Norman, one of my favorite stores in Bath!). It remained cloudy. The wind picked up. Luckily, our room was soon ready and as we walked back towards the hotel the sun began to peek through the clouds. By dinnertime, the sun shone broadly and the walk to Rose Street for dinner was actually quite nice. We ate at a pub called Dirty Dick's, est. 1859. Fantastic food (I had a Steak and Ale Pie and Sticky Toffee Pudding) and a really hilarious waiter. After dinner I pretty much crashed into bed, but not before noticing that it was still light out at 9:30 at night.
And still light at 4:00 AM. Yes, that's when I woke up for a good hour and a half. Talked to Zan online, browsed Facebook, prayed for sleep, and finally it came! I actually got up a little before 9:00, and then we were off onto the Hop-On Hop-Off Bus Tour. Today we spent most of our time at Edinburgh Castle. BEAUTIFUL. I got to see Mary, Queen of Scot's bedchamber, the room in which James VI/I was born, the Crown Jewels of Scotland, the Stone of Destiny, and (the most romantic part!) a traditional Scottish wedding in Saint Margaret's Chapel. The Chapel itself was built in roughly 1150 and is not much bigger than a good-sized walk-in closet, but crowded inside we could see bridesmaids and friends, and outside a bagpiper played. Then from around a medieval gate appeared an old-fashioned Rolls Royce and inside sat the bride and her father! The bagpiper and bridesmaids came down the path to greet the bride, then in procession they walked up to the chapel. The whole thing was absolutely gorgeous, and at the end they fired a cannon.
My mom and I spent the rest of the afternoon touring around the city. We saw, among other things, the Scottish Parliament (an odd, African-themed building), the Royal Mile, the filming of a Bollywood movie, a man dressed as William Wallace just chilling on the street, the outside of museum called Dynamic Earth which advertises a 3-D video narrated by David Tennent, and Holyrood Palace, where the Queen resides on her visits of state. Tomorrow we plan to go back to a few places for a more in depth look, plus perhaps we will visit a Scotch Whisky tasting place, Mary King's Close, and (if we're lucky!) take a ghost tour. There's also this graveyard with a touching story about a dog who sat by his master's grave everyday for 14 years before he himself died; the city has erected a statue to the dog, and the cemetery has a shop called "The Creepy Wee Shop in the Cemetery," so we might go there tomorrow also.
I've decided I quite like Scotland. I knew I loved the Highlands, but due to the rain and cold and jetlag yesterday I felt a bit dubious about Edinburgh. But after today I feel quite certain that I will love this place, too. Mostly it just feels really, really nice to be back in Britain after so long away. :)
Heading out to dinner now! Three cheers for pub grub!
EDIT: Ended up at eating at Pizza Express. Bliss! Also, it's 10:45 at night and still not completely dark outside.
(Pictures to come!)
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
And the Living's Easy...
The past few days here at home have been blissfully lazy. Of course, trying to do absolutely nothing induces panic attacks (I think my body and mind don't know how to completely relax), but I've been wonderfully unproductive. Nights at Mexicali Blues with Kay, burgers by Brian, a cookout at Pete's, a shopping trip to Old Town with my mom, and hours of reading fiction, quietly curled up under my warm comforter. And tomorrow-- so soon! at last!-- I finally return to my brave island across the Atlantic!
My heart is jumping up and down with anticipation and joy!
My heart is jumping up and down with anticipation and joy!
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Here Comes the Bachelorette
Last night was Shea's Bachelorette party. I think I can say with confidence that it ended up being one of the crazier nights I've ever experienced and I stayed sober the entire time! Trust me, someone had to. Basically, it was your typical bachelorette party. We stayed at Embassy Suites in Dupont Circle, dressed in all pink (except Shea who was in white with a pink "Bride-To-Be" sash and a little veil), drank pink drinks, and had silly accessories like penis-shaped whistles. Those were pretty funny, actually, and we realized they could be useful as rape whistles if necessary.
After getting ready and taking some pictures, we all headed out to the first of three (gay) bars. Honestly, I have to say the gay bar idea was excellent. We made so many friends, as all of the guys were thrilled when they realized we were a bachelorette party, we were pretty much the only women in the bars, and best of all NO ONE tried to touch us inappropriately. They were just all so nice, buying Shea shots, taking pictures for us, and giving us funny life advice. The first two bars that we went to were great, I really enjoyed them. But around the third bar the night got pretty sketchy pretty quickly.
I was the only one of us sober at that point, and the bar, called "Secrets" was a gay strip club, legit naked men and everything. It was really quite disturbing. I preferred the drag show in the basement to the strippers upstairs. Also, they stamped our wrists after IDing us (like most clubs) and the stamp said "S/Z" and I LCST nerded out on the doorman, because S/Z is a book by Roland Barthes that deals with sexualities. He analyzes in five tropes a short story called Sarrasine by Balzac, in which the main character falls in love with a castrato. Barthes' S/Z, then pulls it apart and illuminates themes of beauty, sexuality, and humanity. It's more complicated than that, but yeah.
Anyways, I think I'm the only person on earth who goes to a gay strip club and asks the doorman about a cultural theorist.
I was quite pleased when we finally left that bar, since it was a bit like watching a car wreck, and we headed back to the hotel. But dealing with two drunk girls (I rode back with Brooke and Alli) was a bit difficult. Brooke got sick in the cab (she managed to get out before actually throwing up, luckily), so she headed straight upstairs to the hotel room once we got back, but Alli refused to go upstairs since she was being very friendly with these foreign guys who thought we were prostitutes since we had on heels at 3 AM and it ended with a very slap-stick-esque elevator chase, with me on one elevator, a sketchy guy on another, and Alli on the third. The elevators were made of glass so we could see each other and we kept running on and off of elevators and floors. Alli and I escaped though, and made it safely back to the room and locked the door. Gah. I am not cut out for sketchyness. Give me a nice round of mini-golf or a late night watching movies any day. But Shea had a wonderful, wasted time, and that's what matters.
And hey, the stories I got from this night will last for ages!
Friday, June 4, 2010
Meetings and Partings
To paraphrase A Muppet Christmas Carol:
"Life is made up of meetings and partings. That is the way of it. I'm sure that we shall never forget Jeffrey Fine, or this first parting that there was among us."
In Atlanta, just five brothers and sisters now, surrounded by their children, spouses, nieces, and nephews- one of the strongest and most loving families God ever created- gathered to cry, to celebrate, to eat wonderful food, to laugh and tell stories, to catch up with family they hadn't seen in years... but amid all of the hub-bub and happy-noisy-continuous talking of a house full of Fine's, it couldn't be forgotten that something was missing-- the loudest, happiest, most talkative voice of all.
In the corner there was an empty chair...
And a Corvette without an owner.
Let light perpetual shine upon him.
"Life is made up of meetings and partings. That is the way of it. I'm sure that we shall never forget Jeffrey Fine, or this first parting that there was among us."
In Atlanta, just five brothers and sisters now, surrounded by their children, spouses, nieces, and nephews- one of the strongest and most loving families God ever created- gathered to cry, to celebrate, to eat wonderful food, to laugh and tell stories, to catch up with family they hadn't seen in years... but amid all of the hub-bub and happy-noisy-continuous talking of a house full of Fine's, it couldn't be forgotten that something was missing-- the loudest, happiest, most talkative voice of all.
In the corner there was an empty chair...
And a Corvette without an owner.
Let light perpetual shine upon him.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Celebration of Life
We'll be washed and buried one day, my girl
And the time we were given will be left for the world
The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague
So let the memories be good for those who stay
I've decided that June needs to be a celebration of life in all of its aspects.
It's amazing how life continues on and on in the wake of everything. I spent a few more days in Williamsburg packing for this month, watching Doctor Who with Mike, and helping out with another day of shooting Oates. The shoot was across the river, so I got two lovely ferry rides, so peaceful across the water with the seagulls following the boat. Zan and I named one Chris Walters. :)
My parents are in Dublin, Ireland right now. They went to identify my uncle's body and to sign the proper paperwork to have him sent back home. Tomorrow I'm flying to Georgia for my uncle's memorial service with the whole family. I felt very despondent about it all last night, but I realized, while writing an e-mail, that a funeral is just a celebration of the life of someone special. So, June will begin with a celebration of Jeffrey Davis Fine.
Then I get home and the next day I have Shea's bachelorette party, where we celebrate Shea and the fact that we are young and that we have such wonderful friends. I will switch out my clothes of mourning for a bright pink dress and probably a lovely pink cocktail, too. And at the end of June is Shea's wedding, where we celebrate love, life, and a future of happiness for Shea and Andrew.
In between times, I want to live in such a way that I will never look back on this June and feel like I wasted the time by wishing for July to come quickly. I want to celebrate the fact that I get to travel, that I get to spend some time in the nation that I adore, and even better, in my favorite city on earth: London, the city where my heart resides even when I am elsewhere. I want to celebrate the sun and the rain, the fact that I'm 22 and healthy, all of my friends. I want to celebrate my wonderful family: Josh, who I just had a fantastic lunch with, my mom and dad, and even Sphinx-cat, with whom I was reunited earlier today. I want to celebrate the freedom of my everydays, to read, to write, to sketch, to work on my foreign languages. To sleep late, even!
I want to celebrate that I have found such happiness with a wonderful guy who always makes me smile, even from afar. I want to celebrate how lucky I am in this life, young and in love.
And the time we were given will be left for the world
The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague
So let the memories be good for those who stay
I've decided that June needs to be a celebration of life in all of its aspects.
It's amazing how life continues on and on in the wake of everything. I spent a few more days in Williamsburg packing for this month, watching Doctor Who with Mike, and helping out with another day of shooting Oates. The shoot was across the river, so I got two lovely ferry rides, so peaceful across the water with the seagulls following the boat. Zan and I named one Chris Walters. :)
My parents are in Dublin, Ireland right now. They went to identify my uncle's body and to sign the proper paperwork to have him sent back home. Tomorrow I'm flying to Georgia for my uncle's memorial service with the whole family. I felt very despondent about it all last night, but I realized, while writing an e-mail, that a funeral is just a celebration of the life of someone special. So, June will begin with a celebration of Jeffrey Davis Fine.
Then I get home and the next day I have Shea's bachelorette party, where we celebrate Shea and the fact that we are young and that we have such wonderful friends. I will switch out my clothes of mourning for a bright pink dress and probably a lovely pink cocktail, too. And at the end of June is Shea's wedding, where we celebrate love, life, and a future of happiness for Shea and Andrew.
In between times, I want to live in such a way that I will never look back on this June and feel like I wasted the time by wishing for July to come quickly. I want to celebrate the fact that I get to travel, that I get to spend some time in the nation that I adore, and even better, in my favorite city on earth: London, the city where my heart resides even when I am elsewhere. I want to celebrate the sun and the rain, the fact that I'm 22 and healthy, all of my friends. I want to celebrate my wonderful family: Josh, who I just had a fantastic lunch with, my mom and dad, and even Sphinx-cat, with whom I was reunited earlier today. I want to celebrate the freedom of my everydays, to read, to write, to sketch, to work on my foreign languages. To sleep late, even!
I want to celebrate that I have found such happiness with a wonderful guy who always makes me smile, even from afar. I want to celebrate how lucky I am in this life, young and in love.
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