Much Improved

I am 99% better today. Quit worrying already.

It's pouring rain outside today, but it's better than the SNOW and COLD everyone else has back home. Ha ha. The only problem I'm having is a slight twinge in my hands, but it's minimal.

I am currently in Shakespeare class and I am misbehaving. Better than the last time when I was running out the door...

Not much to say-we have class tomorrow because next week we don't have class on Thursday next week thanks to the Ireland trip. So we're having makeup classes for classes we haven't had yet due to there being no class.

Get it? Got it? Good.

I am currently trying to sort out why Laurence Olivier has a towel on his head. It looks like a towel. Otherwise it's a turban, but why would he be wearing a turban?

I'll update this blog later today if anything interesting happens.

Cheers,
Bec

Apologizing Again

DISCLAIMER:
By the way, though I claim to BE sick, I am just a wee bit sick. A WEE BIT. This doesn't warrant overseas phone calls or get-well cards or everyone sending me iron tablets and e-mails wondering if I'll answer back. I am merely explaining why I didn't write yesterday; it was a minor little incident and I am pretty sure it will clear up by the end of the week, or I will have been to the nurse.

In other words, I am handling it from here. Don't worry about me (you're all worrying now just because I said not to)

(Stop it. You're worrying. You're busy over there across the ocean biting your lips and wringing your hands in worry and fear over me...)

Now the entry:
Okay, I don't have much of an excuse for Monday, but I actually have a very good reason for not writing yesterday-I'm sick with something.

Everyone else seems to have the flu/cold/communicable disease of some sort, but me? I have weakness and dizziness. So much, in fact, that I had to leave Shakespeare class yesterday or risk becoming a heap on the Gold Room floor.

It hasn't really improved much since yesterday, but it is better. I think I'm going to wait and see how this shapes up today. Seems to be worse right before mealtimes and then gets better again about a half-hour afterward.

If there were any logical explanation for my spinny feelings, I would have thought of them. This dizziness is kind of annoying; not really debilitating. What's really driving me crazy is that I can't sort out where it's coming from-these are the common explanations for the problem.

Is it the weather (sky's clear.)
Is it me not eating? (no, I'm eating everything in sight trying to prevent the dizzy.)
Low iron? (Had burgers for lunch the other day. That ain't it.)
Low salt? (nope. The food is kind of bland here; it means me adding lots of salt on the food.)

And here I run out of explanations. Anyone got better ones?

(Your forehead's going to get permanent worry lines that way. Smile. :) I'm okay. Taking it easy and slow and eating and drinking and EVERYTHING.)

Cheers,
Bec

Back From Scotland!

Hi! I'm back. As it turns out, I DIDN'T have wireless access at the hotel and so I DIDN'T get to post for three days. But that doesn't mean I didn't write anything DOWN...

Day 1-Edinburgh

Well, finally made it here, after 8 HOURS of riding the bus to get here (it was supposed to take 6, but a lorry (truck) tipped over and stopped us up in traffic for about an hour, then the wind was lashing so hard against the bus that the driver couldn’t go any faster than a crawl.)

But we are here, in Edinburgh. Lovely city from what I’ve seen of it; it’s dark and rainy tonight. Saw the North Sea out of the bus window today, lots of sheep, really high hills, and yes, we watched Braveheart on the way up here (doesn’t that just FIT?)

No, I don’t have Internet access but that doesn’t mean I can’t post these when I get back on Sunday. Had a sandwich for dinner when nobody could decide what they wanted to eat. We went to what seems to be Britain’s answer for Starbucks-Costa’s. I’ve been in two already now. The food was okay; enough to get me to breakfast tomorrow.

The rooms are tinier than back home, but the carpet (ha ha) is plaid. There’s a nice view of the street below the window here.

So, that’s about it. I’m in Edinburgh and don’t know what I’ll be doing tomorrow, but I will let you all know as soon as I can.

LATER: Me and Erin went to a real Scottish pub, and guess what the wimp (that would be me) ordered. A PEPSI. I ordered a galdarn soda from a Scottish pub…but then again, she ordered hard cider and one of us had to be less than buzzed coming back or we’d have wound up lost someplace.

Also, they had really good garlic bread. They make it way more garlicky than the Americans do. Their Kit-Kats are sweeter, too.

Cheers,
Bec

Day 2: Tour Day
We had one day to see the sights…and boy, did I see them.

Starting off bright and early at a quarter to 9 this morning, I (meaning JUST little old me: I traveled alone today) trekked along the Royal Mile (they lied. It’s more like 3) all the way past the Queen’s residence and the Scottish Parliament and up to the big mountain at the end-Arthur’s Mantle.

I’m still not sure what portion of it I climbed but I can tell you it nearly killed me. I ran out of breath three times on the way up and wouldn’t you know it, the wind was blowing like hell and there were NO GUARDRAILS.

So there I am, standing up there high above Edinburgh, bracing my little feet against the angry, violent poofs of wind, and hoping to God that this is not the end of me, alone on Arthur’s Mantle and then promptly thrown off the top by a stupid gust.

But alas, it wasn’t and I came down the other side unscathed. But lost. I had come down on the other end of it and was at least 10 blocks away from where I had started. So, instead of panicking, I walked and walked and walked until I found myself on my helpful map again. It took 20 minutes, but hey! I actually READ A MAP. HEE.

Wandering around I found the Writer’s Museum-not what I was expecting. They had Robert Louis Stevenson’s boots, his books, the bedstead from the bed he was born in, his first lock of cut hair. It would have all been terribly creepy if I hadn’t seen that they’d done it with Sir Walter Scott, too. So, mutual creepies. They wouldn't let me take pictures of anything in there.

I ducked under an archway and came out on the Royal Mile, bought a hat, realized I couldn’t wear it in public here without looking like a tourist (has the Scottish thistle on it and it says Scotland. It’s a nice hat, and I paid too much for it. But you only go to Edinburgh once.)

I went to the National Museum, where I spent about an hour just looking at all the stuff (I didn’t get to all of it. Skipped the rock exhibit and went onto the Iranian tapestry part instead.) Saw a great big sword and thumbscrews, some really old Scottish jewelry and the Egyptian exhibit (you should have seen my double take when I saw THAT one.) They had several mummies up there, but nobody to get excited about. Just mummies.

I then decided to go find Greyfriars Bobby because I know Mom would kill me if I didn’t at least get A PICTURE of the dog statue. If you don’t know the story, here it is in brief: A constable in the 1800’s had a dog and its name was Bobby. The master died and was buried in the Greyfriars churchyard. The dog followed the coffin to the graveyard… then proceeded to guard his master’s grave-for the next 14 years. The townspeople took the pooch’s care up, gave it food and lodging when necessary, and when the dog died they buried him in the churchyard, too.

This story has never failed to make my mother glow, weep, or something in between and I knew darn well she’d hurt me if I didn’t make a pilgrimage there.

The statue of the dog is on the end of the street leading up to the church (or kirk as it’s known here.) The graveyard and the church itself were a bit hard to find, but eventually I did. The dog was buried right out in front so that people could find him, and I also got shots of the master’s grave and the sexton who was running the church at the time and was responsible for the dog being buried in the churchyard. I also left a pence for Bobby, the ever-loyal poochie (I was feeling guilty because someone else had had the presence of mind to leave a dog toy there for him)

Then, after wiping a tear from my eye (or was that rain?) I proceeded up the Royal Mile to the big event…Edinburgh Castle.

Now, me being an experienced traveler, I figured castle, faugh. It’ll be a half-hour in, half-hour out (this experience all deriving from having seen ONE castle.)

Oh, boy, was I ever wrong. Edinburgh Castle is a dizzying, looping, twisting maze of knowledge and Scottish history. Tons of Scottish history. Full-haggis and scones and bannocks and all- helpings of it. I should have done it first today. By the time I found the National Scottish War Museum tucked in a back corner I hadn’t noticed, I was so wiped out I could barely admire the full Scottish regalia in the exhibits.

But I saw the Scottish crown jewels, a big cannon, a couple dungeons, several nice paintings, the Queen’s key into the castle (big key. Huge.), some prison stuff…all amazing, all wonderful, all contained in a castle built on an extinct volcano. Them Scots sure could build ‘em (high and large and damned defendable, but a real problem to traverse with increasingly sore feet.)

Two hours after entering the castle area, I stumbled down the road, grabbed a sandwich at the first place I saw, and stumped back to the hotel where I am currently writing this entry.

The only thing that may have suffered permanent damage here is my hair, which has decided gravity is for others to obey and is standing on end (or would be, if not for the lovely hat I’m wearing)

I suspect everyone else will be back soon-darkness should be falling within the hour and most places around here close at about 4. We’ll probably go out tonight someplace; I don’t know where.

Check in with you soon,
Bec

Day 3: Coming Back

Day 3 was a long, long day. We started out at 8 something from Edinburgh, and made it to the border a couple of hours later. We stayed about 10 minutes, then off we went to Hadrian's Wall/Houstead's Fort, where we all nearly got blown away AGAIN because of the wind. I had to hold hat, wallet, AND camera near my person in order not to lose them (trying to hold all three at once was a bit of a chore). I slipped and got my butt wet on the grass (no harm done) and then we let ourselves be blown back down the hill to the bus.

Then it was on to Durham. We had a huge lunch in one of the local shops, then proceeded to the cathedral, where we weren't allowed to take pictures inside. Too bad-it was lovely. I got to see the Venerable Bede's tomb, which if you don't who he is, he wrote a couple of hymns in the Lutheran hymnbook my church uses and he wrote the first histories of Britain, therefore making himself "Father of the English Language." Venerable, indeed.

Then we left, unfortunately not getting to see the castle, but as I claimed before we got there, "We SAW Edinburgh Castle yesterday. TWO castles in TWO days is too much for anyone."

Then it was 3 hours back here. We watched Ice Age on the way back. I have spent the rest of this night trying to catch up on things...including finding out that yet another dang blasted IDIOT has smoked the overhead Davenport bridge.

I wrote a story on this the first time it happened after the repair work was done...

There is a bridge that goes past the paper mill in Rhinelander. It has seen many accidents in its time; so much that it was legendary among city residents.

Six months ago, the railroad company and the federal transportation guys decided after yet another accident involving semis and this bridge, that they would fix it, as it was now deemed to be unsafe.

So they reinforced it with steel beams. They painted it with stripes. They put up signs every 5 feet. They even decorated it with little flashing lights.

When it was all finished, we citizens thought, “Yes. This bridge is perfect. No one will ever hit it again, not with stripes and lights and signs aplenty…”

But ah, just yesterday, August 16th, 2006, somebody did. Somebody hit the bridge that was supposed to be un-hittable. How the semi driver blew through the signs, the stripes, AND the flashing lights…well, the spokesman said it must have been negligence.

The bridge survived the smack, but one of the little flashing lights was broken. The steel beams were a little scratched.

One can only wonder what happens to the semi driver from here: laughed at by city officials and railroad technicians because how in heaven’s name could he have hit THAT bridge, the one decorated with doodads to prevent exactly this kind of accident occurring. His boss laughing him right out to the Unemployment office, because any boss who’d let him drive after this is insane. And everyone in the city of Rhinelander laughing at him because boy, he must have been missing a few bolts in HIS bridge…

Personally, I wouldn’t let this guy drive a go-kart. How BLIND would you have to be to knock into the one bridge in Rhinelander that was recently made impossible to hit?

Apparently, I underestimated the idiocy of truck drivers going through Rhinelander, because it's happened AGAIN. 4 days ago, some genius trucker hit the bridge.

Some residents propose lowering it. Can't. Trains go through there to the paper mill, and the fact that the street is probably inches above the water line that close to the river (which IS about 100 feet away) would mean you can't lower the sucker anyway or risk having it underwater. You can't close it down-people on the west side of town use it as a main artery, and anyway, the paper mill's front doors are RIGHT THERE.

And if lowering the darn thing would help, don't you think after 16 accidents happening there that they WOULD HAVE? Lowering it will not stop them smacking into it-it will only give them cause to blaze through there with BIGGER trucks and smoke it again.

Either the truckers are going to have to get smarter or we're going to have to send out memos.

Well, this blog entry has gotten long in the tooth, so I will say bye to the Scotland portion of things.

Cheers,
Bec

Possibly My Last Post This Week...

Nothing major happened yesterday again; tomorrow we're off to Edinburgh! And Durham later this weekend! And Hadrian's Wall!

I may not be able to write you all for several days, so don't get your kilts in a twist if I just don't show up tomorrow, Saturday, and possibly even Sunday.

I may possibly be leaving the laptop behind and if I don't then I may not have wireless where I'm going. Don't know. All kinds of that going around.

I have to be up pretty damn early so I will sign off. Will talk to you Sunday if not before.

Cheers,
Bec

Richard II

We weren't allowed to take pictures at the theatre last night, so unfortunately I don't have ANYTHING to show you.

The theater was amazing. They had rigging all over the place. The stage was set in the middle, and all the seats were set around it. That way we could lean over the railings and see everything, all at once.

The play has a lot of setup to get to the meat of things. In history, Richard II did some good things in his reign, but he made a bit of a mistake when he tried to cover up the death of someone that he'd ordered killed. He banished a couple guys-one for 6 years and one forever.

The one he banned for 6 years was pretty pissed about it, and since his dad (Duke of Lancaster) died while he was away, he found that to get his rightful estate back he was going to have to take the whole galdarn kingdom.

Meanwhile, Richard II had gone off to Ireland to try and claim it for the Crown. While he was busy there, the guy that he'd banned-Henry Bolingbroke-came back and took over the country with relative speed and ease. By the time Richard II came back from Ireland to try and salvage things, he found his entire kingdom wasn't his anymore. He was swiftly deposed.

No one really knows what happened to the real Richard II-the running theory is that he was starved to death in the Tower of London.

Shakespeare took a few liberties with history. We forgive him this-starvation isn't nearly as fun to watch as what HE set up.

The guy playing Richard 2 had white makeup on his face, fancy clothes, and red hair. Bit of a pompous ass, but not too bad considering what happened to him next.

When he was deposed by Henry Bolingbroke, the guy who becomes Henry IV, Richard, having passed off his crown pretty unwillingly, was wearing a plain white shift. He ripped off the wig and wiped off the makeup, right there on stage. Suddenly, he didn't look like the king anymore-not even remotely. He did a great monologue into a mirror and then smashed it on the floor, saying his image was shattered and he didn't know what he was anymore.

Things got more interesting when he was imprisoned. There he stood in the middle of the floor...and SAND starts FALLING from the CEILING onto this guy. For about five minutes. Cool metaphor for dust and ashes.

So, there he is, pining away his days in this lonely little cell, with sand down his shift and his hair gone and his crown, too...and then the LAST person who was loyal to him decides that he has to look good to his new king and cover up his indiscretion and STAB POOR RICH IN THE BACK. AND THEN THE CHEST.

Fake blood everywhere, as Richard is dragged across the sand still on the floor, leaving a puddle of the red stuff behind.

Then at the last scene, they drag him into the scene in his coffin and open up the lid. Hope the actor wasn't claustrophobic. It was kind of funny when things ended, the play went to blackout, and then the lights went up again, and he pops up out of the coffin, covered in sand, his white shift ruined by fake blood, his wig missing, his makeup all smeared off.

We cheered.

It was a good play-Tiff cried. I couldn't get over the way they dispatched Richard; I'm still kind of shocked about it. Stab the man in the back and then get him in the heart. Very metaphorical.

I have been tired and feeling kind of off all day, but it was worth the three hours down and three hours back.

Nothing going on today, however. I'm going into Grantham tomorrow and Edinburgh awaits me on Friday. I will get pictures of Edinburgh. I swear. They have to let me take a photo of something around here.

UPDATE: I guess something did go on today. An actor I watched, admired, and respected has died. I can't believe Heath Ledger is gone. I just can't believe it. I can't find the right words. I just don't know how to process this one. He was only 28; only 7 years older than me. I hope that wherever his soul is tonight that he's at peace.



Bec

Sorry!

I am sorry I didn't write yesterday, but nothing DID happen. Tiff is sick with some sort of thing, so Celtic Anthrax hasn't met for awhile. I studied most of yesterday (when did I get so darn good at homework?) and only really left the Carriage House to eat, seeing as it was pouring rain outside.

Today, however, is shaping up to be interesting. I and a whole bunch of other people are going to see Richard II...the play...in Stratford.

I AM GOING TO SEE A SHAKESPEARE PLAY. IN SHAKESPEARE'S HOMETOWN.

OH.

MY.

FRELLIN'.

DRAKS.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Of course I will get pictures and of course I'll report all of it to you tomorrow, as I probably won't get back until after midnight.

That said, class begins in about 3 minutes, when the teacher shows up.

Cheers,
Bec

Grantham

I and 5 other people went to Grantham today. I didn't buy much-mostly stuff I needed. Laundry soap, microwave popcorn...you get the picture...

I don't have anything to report today, other than give you a look at my memory list of the monarchs of England. This is the part I need to remember:

Norman Line
William I the Conqueror (1066-87) BATTLE OF HASTINGS
William II Rufus (1087-1100) SAVAGE, CHURCH HATED HIM, KILLED HUNTING
Henry I Beauclerc (1100-35) CRUEL, EXCHEQUER FORMED HERE
Stephen (1135-54) NICE BUT DIDN’T PUNISH ANYONE, BARONS REVOLTED AGAINST HIM
Empress Matilda (1141) ARROGANT, WAS IN POWER 7 MONTHS THEN DIED

Plantagenet, Angevin Line
Henry II Curtmantle (1154-89) SON OF MATILDA, BECKET
Richard I the Lionheart (1189-99) CHILDLESS, LIONHEART, KILLED IN JOUST
John Lackland (1199-1216) MAGNA CARTA, STUPID KING
Henry III (1216-72) ARROGANT KING, PARLIAMENT BEGINNING HERE
Edward I Longshanks (1272-1307) ELEANOR CROSSES
Edward II (1307-27) FIRST PRINCE OF WALES, FATE UNKNOWN
Edward III (1327-77) BLACK PRINCE
Richard II (1377-99) TRIED TAKING IRELAND, PEASANT REVOLT, BLACK DEATH

Plantagenet, Lancastrian Line
Henry IV Bolingbroke (1399-1413) SICK, REBELLIONS DURING REIGN
Henry V (1413-22) TOOK FRANCE, DIED OF DYSENTERY
Henry VI (1422-61, 1470-1) IDIOT, CATATONIC, DEPOSED TWICE, MURDERED

Plantagenet, Yorkist Line
Edward IV (1461-70, 1471-83) MADE THINGS GOOD AGAIN FOR ENGLAND
Edward V (1483) KILLED ALONG WITH HIS BROTHER, BY SUCCESSOR UNCLE
Richard III Crookback (1483-5) DIED AT BOSWORTH FIELD, LAURENCE OLIVIER PLAYED HIM IN A MOVIE

House of Tudor
Henry VII Tudor (1485-1509) CENTER OF REGAL POWER NOW BASED IN COUNCIL
Henry VIII (1509-47) 8 WIVES
Edward VI (1547-53) HENRY’S ONLY SURVIVING AND SICK SON
Lady Jane Grey (1553) ONE OF HENRY’S WIVES
Mary I Tudor (1553-58) CATHOLIC, LOCKED IN TOWER OF LONDON
Elizabeth I (1558-1603) AH, YOU KNOW WHO SHE IS…

I have to remember all these people for the quiz on Wednesday. Yipe.

Gotta get to bed- I still have several hours of studying to do tomorrow, despite my three hours spent today reading Shakespeare's story on Henry #4...

Cheers,
Bec

Lincoln

Well, as it turned out, we went to a castle AND a cathedral today. My particular group went to visit the city a bit, then we went to the castle, then we went to the cathedral, and THEN we went on a tour of all the Roman stuff still lying around the city.

It was long and tiring and I actually took about 500 pictures...really. I did. There were about 100 that didn't turn out and that I had to get rid of.

First, we went to the town. There was some history stuff to be found but the SHOPS were really something to see. There weren't many cars in the city center (in a city built long before cars, the cobblestones aren't really built for that kind of traffic) so we could easily walk down to the water and get a look at the bridges and canals built by the Romans across the river.









Then it was time to turn back. We went to the castle next. It was raining and windy today, so standing up on that old wall was really, really cold. We got to see where they held and then where they hung the prisoners, and where they buried them. We got to see the keep of the castle and got to see the Magna Carta (one of the FOUR original originals left in the world. No pictures of it allowed-the light from cameras would damage it. They actually kept it in a darkened room, separate from the rest of the museum. But I got a pic of a copy in the cathedral later)

We got to see a unique chapel inside the castle walls where some guy in the 1700's tried to "cure" criminals by essentially putting them in solitary confinement 22 hours a day,with an hour for exercise and an hour for chapel, hoping that they would reflect on their wrongdoings and change. Instead they were driven mad.

This guy also thought that putting the prisoners in chapel an hour a day would help them 'reflect,' but he had to restrain them. SO they made these godawful little boxes where pews would be, with seating that made you have to push up with your feet or end up on the floor. We got to sit in these boxes-it would be rough on a claustrophobic. They also put a sheet across so that you couldn't see anything but the preacher up front. It was basically a tiny wooden closet and you kept sliding to the floor if you tried to relax. We were told that this is the only prison chapel of its kind left in the country.







Having finished with the castle, we broke for lunch and then headed off to the cathedral.

HOLY.

COW.

Pictures really can't convey the size of the place, or how old it is, or how really, really, really, really, really exponent of 234 just wow this was. I spent the first three minutes with my mouth open.

We saw several tombs, most in the floor, some of the more important ones up above in big stone things. The windows were AH! The stonework was WHA! And there was just this...







Then we went to see Roman stuff about town. We saw the remains of what was a forum (just round circles) in the middle of the cobbles, right down the middle of the road.
We saw an old well, a wall, the defensive wall and the arch into the old city, and part of an aqueduct.

It was overwhelming. I think it may take weeks for me to recover.

Enjoy the pictures; I tried to vary them a little bit so that you could see everything I saw.

Fire Drills and Cheese Toasties

Our room has been re-stolen. So we're next door, and I just ordered a cheese toastie. It's an English equivalent of a grilled cheese sandwich (I gotta experiment with this English food) Absolutely divine tasting stuff, I tell ya.

Off to a cathedral, NOT A CASTLE tomorrow. Will tell all when I get back from there.

Half of the Anthraxians are leaving, and I will be going back soon, too. We've all got to be up at 8:30 tomorrow. ECH.

Oh, this morning we had a fire alarm at 7 IN THE MORNING. All of us residents of the Carriage House had to stumble, slip, slide, and yawn our way up to the front drive (about a 1/4 mile away) Some people didn't have shoes; some didn't have coats (I had both; my mind was half-awake when the alarm bells went off.) About 4 didn't get up and so we'll have to do it again.

It may have been mandatory, but I wasn't too happy with any of it.

That's about it. This weekend's going to be a long one...

Cheers,
Bec

Celtic Anthrax Triumphs!

After a tour of the manor (two more secret passageways that I had no clue were there until today. I may have to refilm some stuff) we went to a boring, non-helpful RA meeting.

Tiff made the wise suggestion that seeing as we were in the Bistro anyway, we should claim our room back from the Anglo-Saxons that stole it last night to watch Holy Grail. I went in there, ousted the inhabitants like a good little warrior, and plunked myself down across a couch.

I read homework-related stuff for the next 3 hours. I am barely caught up. I still have four plays to read in the next five days. Three articles before tomorrow afternoon. Part of my British Studies book (up until the Tudors Take Power stuff)

I did a lot of homework today; in preparation for more of it descending on me like a horde of locusts. Cue the horror music...

So, very tired, eyes hurt, think I'm gonna crash.

Cheers,
Bec

Celtic Anthrax Lost Their Headquarters

Due to the rather loud airing of "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" in our usual hangout, Celtic Anthrax has had to move ten feet over to the next room. Tonight there is are the usual five-Nicole, Tiff, me, Erin, and Brittany.

It's not made Tiff very happy but the lighting is better and there's more leg room in here.

We're not discussing anything important, really, just hanging out.

There's nothing going on tonight; Friday's when the fun starts. We're going to see a castle! That's all of 5 miles away! A real, honest-to-God CASTLE!

Of course I will get pictures for all you loyal blog people.

There's nothing to report now, so I will sign off for now.

Ah, address! If you didn't get it in the e-mail I sent to practically everyone I know, you're getting it now. Airmail should take a week to reach me.

Mailbox 47
Harlaxton College
Grantham, Lincs
NG32 1AG, England

Cheers,
Bec

MY 100TH POST!

Yes, there have been 100 posts. 100 signing ins (and signing outs.) Some complaints about the weather. Knees going bad; elbows and hands complaining. Pumpkins, marmots, some Muse worship and even green grass.

Boy, what a ride, eh?

It has been a long, tiring 100 posts, and 6 times zones, four months, and a lot of ocean away from where I started, this blog has become a venting for all of my suppressed rage (SEE, TIFF? I HAVE SOME, TOO) and a few other emotions.

Thanks for reading all of these, for keeping up with my crazy life through all these 100 posts. I'll keep spilling if you keep reading.

That said, next video posting from Harlaxton. Enjoy all the glitter...even if it is sort of dark...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCab7qMCNBw

Cheers,
Bec

Sunday Posting

Everyone is back from London. Tiff missed my cynicism (who knew?)

We're all tied down with homework that we all forgot to finish before we left. I personally have two acts of a play to read and a paper to finish for Tuesday.

Ah, I forgot to tell y'all about this little incident, although some know already. I was up till 3 on Saturday morning reading stuff online for the heck of it, and I went to the loo and my door shut behind me.

Problem was, the door was set to lock.

So, there I stood in my socks at 3 in the morning, pondering what to do. There was hardly anyone around at that hour, much less this weekend, and I wondered what I was supposed to do now.

There was the moment of panic, and then I calmly took off my socks (it was wet out), walked to the Manor in the dark, and opened the door.

Luck was SO on my side at that moment. There was some older guy walking OUT of the security office. I immediately saw my salvation.

He heard my plea, chuckled a bit at my distress, and then WALKED me down to the Carriage House AT THREE IN THE MORNING and unlocked my door for me. I may have been barefoot, but I was grateful.

After he left, I unlocked the door and left it that way for the rest of the weekend. No need for a repeat accident.

Not anything happening here. Seems like everyone's attempting to finish their work tonight. We dread the dawn...Mondays truly suck.

Gotta go! Celtic Anthrax might get to hang out after all!

Cheers,
Bec

Saturday

Today I spent several hours upstairs on the Manor's first floor (remember that the first floor here is known as the ground floor, so in America I would have been on the second floor) shooting video of all the rooms I could get into.

I'm going to put these videos out a little bit at a time; there are quite a few and I think they're all pretty much set up the same way: You'll see the room, hear me describing it and some interesting features of it, and you'll see the view outside the windows when I shot them (it was a lovely sunny day today)

The reason I'm doing this is because I don't think pictures can totally do justice to the place; I think video does it a bit better. I will eventually take pictures but you get more of a sense of what these rooms look like if I walk around and show you them. Call it a grand tour.

So, introducing the first video. This is Ridgeway Hall, named after the guy who donated the manor to become a college. This is actually the third bit of video I shot in this room; the others just weren't good enough.

And yes, the painting you can't see I have tried to take pictures of and tried to shoot video of, but I can't get a good shot of it no matter how I try. Sorry about that.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-J9aF0vn2U

Nothing else went on today; it's so quiet around here you could hear pins dropping if only someone was here to drop them.

Enjoy the video!

Cheers,
Bec

Everybody Gone

Everyone else, save about 10 people, left for London this morning. Those of us who are left behind had nothing to do all day, and some of us did homework.

Some of us did SOME (like me) and will hope to do more tomorrow and be a little less lazy.

There's not much to say-I have no pictures and the video I shot I want to post later so that I can spread them out a little.

Watched David Tennant in a movie he did about three years ago called "Secret Smile," where he played a blazing nutter of a guy. Fun to watch-he can really turn up the slimy git thing.

So, that's about it. It's raining buckets outside and the wind is rushing by. Think I'll crash and do more of nothing tomorrow.

Cheers,
Bec

Ceilidh (Think I Spelled That Right)

We had folk dancing in the Manor tonight and I have been told I have no rhythm. Oh well. The one guy I danced with didn't have any earthly clue how to waltz, so...

Anyway, it was fun. We landed on each other's feet and got into each other's personal space, got all confused about left and right and smacked into five people who DID have it right.

They're all leaving for London tomorrow (we get Fridays off around here); I couldn't afford it so I'm staying here this weekend. Hope I will get some really nice video of the inside of the manor tomorrow when everyone is gone.

My back has been killing me for a week now and I'm starting to get fed up. I had maybe, maybe a couple hours of respite this week from it (didn't hurt yesterday morning) but now I must have yanked something 'cause now it hurts again.

I hate to, pardon my French, bitch, but it's difficult when your life is ruled by how much ibuprofen you need to be able to move like everyone else in the morning. It's bloody flipping frustrating when you dance even a little bit and you know darn well that your back, knees, ankles, and probably yes, even hands will pay in the morning.

There I go whining again. Sorry. Ignore that last paragraph or so-I think I'm just tired.

So, anyway, by 9 AM tomorrow most (if not all of them) will be away for a couple of days. I am really, really hoping they leave the rooms open over the weekend (they can lock the doors up there when they need to) so that I can get some beautiful video shots up there-it'll give me enough material to post for several weeks, provided I let you have it little by little...

:)

Cheers,
Bec

Marmots

Tiffany and Nicole and I are hanging out down in the Bistro again, as we have done every night for the past several days. We're on our laptops, deciding where to go when the rest of them go to Paris (we're thinking Dublin at the moment and it's looking beautifully cheap to go there over Easter weekend)

Today was nicer-not as many classes.

The real whee of today was Professor Bujak, my British Studies professor and just about the funniest history teacher I have ever had the pleasure to meet, was sitting at dinner with Professor Green tonight. They were discussing the Black Plague with us, and suddenly the discussion got weird.

He started discussing marmots (and their usefulness in seige engines such as catapults and trebuchets) and other rodents of that sort and what would fly the best when you were attacking a walled city or castle, and exactly how long you should let the marmot have the plague before you send it over the wall (Bujak was all for waiting till it was juicy so it would make a nice splat and spread disease farther) For the next half-hour he explored the theory that the duckbilled platypus had carried the plague northward disguised as a marmot.

He also thinks that him and Professor Green should make a TV show where they pit either celebrities or American gladiators up against a marmot, and then he decided they should pit capybaras (South American rodent that's about the size of a small dog) against marmots and have the capybaras with little armor plates and nose javelins.

We laughed till we cried; it took me till ten minutes later to stop snickering every time I thought of a marmot. Even now it's bringing a smile to my face...I will never see marmots in the same light again...



UPDATE: Posted a video of the Celtic Anthrax (I think that's our title now) hanging out in the Bistro. My apologies to Erin for the bad shots of her but I have no video editing software.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXB2p051gj8

Cheers,
Bec

Tuesday

Sitting down in the chill-out area known as the "Bistro," hanging out with about half of the Anthrax Tree Lover's Club (title subject to change)
(Tiffany forgot the name for the cafeteria (refectory) and instead called it anthrax; the joke is ongoing and we're not letting it die. The Tree Lover's thing has to do with druids; someone made the comment that Druidic Christians "loved God but loved trees, too..."

I think the hours of class have cracked us up entirely. We had Shakespeare this morning-12 plays we're reading.

No pics today-it's very hard to get them when people are in the rooms I want to take video shots of. Maybe this weekend when everyone goes to London and I don't (couldn't afford it)

We're all leaving now, so I will say goodnight.

Cheers,
Bec

First Day of Classes

I am finding Harlaxton classes to be pretty darn hard. Maybe I've just never been put to the test this much, but oy. I have an entire novel to read here.

We all started out in the Long Gallery this morning, all 36 guys and 134 girls (yeah. The ratio around here is BAD) and we all were there at 8:30 in the morning to start British Studies. Then I had a short break between lecture and seminar, then I had English Novel at 3 and Medieval History at 4.

I have a lot to read for tomorrow; and unfortunately I didn't get time to take pictures today. I'm hanging out with some buddies tonight, so I have to go discuss ghosts again. I'll take some pics tonight and try to post them before I go to bed tonight, so if this looks blank now, just wait a couple of hours and there might be pics of the Stone Hallway in here.

Cheers,
Bec

Bagpipes, Green Grass, And Really Old Churches

We have all of the above here at Harlaxton. Billy the Bagpiper was around yesterday-the man can really play. We had this big welcome dinner thing in a couple of the rooms I showed pictures of the other day, and I managed to get a picture of me with him (he was really a nice guy)



The dinner was great; we had more standard stuff than we'd been having at first. They gave us chicken Kiev and steamed vegetables and this cake that was great except when you tried to cut it (frosting was a little gluey; it caused major amusement when we tried to pull two slices apart and they refused to move)

I went back to the Carriage House to change and then hung out with some people till nearly midnight discussing ghosts and other things, then I went to bed.

This morning I had promised to go to the local church to sing with the congregation, but first I had to get these wholly enviable pictures. Look and weep: we have green grass and green plants and sunshine and no snow, although it is a bit cold today.





Then I went to church. Get a load of the graveyard; then look at these shots of the church. The church was built in the 1170's (my geeky history gene loved every minute of THAT) but some parts of it are a lot newer-this archway thing is definitely not that old, and some of the windows are from the 1800's and are dedicated to various people who died.

I couldn't get a good picture of the grave in the middle of the church floor, simply because everyone was standing on it every time I tried to get a good shot. I'll try again another day. My pal from last night was freaking out when she realized she'd actually walked over three dead people buried beneath the floor (couple of infants a year old each and died a year apart, and their mother about 20 years afterwards) but I made the point that they've been dead since the 1700's and they probably don't care all that much anymore WHO'S walking over them.

By the way, the heating system in the church is 15th century (1400's, that is). It means they have two grates in the floor and heat comes up through them. It was the only place of warmth in the whole building. Most of the Harlaxton students were trying to stand on it in a little pack at the end of the service.











We have our last Orientation sessions today (thank heaven) and we meet our British Studies professors today (I've already met mine-great guy)

Not much else-everyone else is going to brunch and I guess I should too one of these times.

UPDATE: I finally found the video setting on the camera-check this out on Youtube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsPHsRtis7k


Cheers,
Bec

Day 2: Lots To Learn

I have been in the manor house a dozen times already; there are a lot of orientation sessions the first couple of days. My jet lag is better today- instead of being constantly exhausted, I am now veering wildly between terribly tired half the time and feeling great the rest. They told us it could take up to two weeks for us to adjust entirely.

It's warm here; no rain today. The day has been absolutely lovely for walking outside and I should have gone and gotten piccies of the gardens while I could, but there's plenty of time for that (maybe I'll wait till the flowers bloom in April, though we do appear to have daisies blooming in one of the courtyards)

So I got you some shots of the outside and inside of the manor, and a couple of shots of the Carriage House where I live. The Carriage House is a short walk from the manor, less than a couple of minutes up a small rise, through an archway, and up a ramp through the back of the manor.

These pictures of the inside are all from what would be the second floor in America but is the first floor here. The first/ground floor isn't all that lovely or interesting compared with this stuff.

These are in no particular order; most of the inside ones were last night and the outside shots that don't look cloudy were this morning. All the pics are labeled already in the description.

HERE! (Update of Me On The Road To Harlaxton)

This was in O'Hare, waiting for the plane.




This was on the plane waiting to leave the ground.




In Heathrow, waiting for the bus.




This was still in Heathrow, looking around at the signs.




Brit equivalent of "YIELD."




The wrong side of the road? Not to these people.




Carriage House where I live.



Manor House.







Thursday Night

I am on the plane, writing this entry. I survived customs and I survived security (which didn’t find the 4.6 ounce toothpaste that blatantly defied the 3 ounce limit-I’m still waiting to find out if the maple syrup in my checked luggage survived the same)

I also survived takeoff which, as Mom said it would, made me feel like the plane was falling apart, but we’re still up here so I guess we didn’t.

Meanwhile, the plane is coasting high above Lake Michigan, but we might be past that now. I haven’t been paying attention very well. There are still lights down there below us.

We’ll arrive in London at the equivalent of 3 in the morning Central Time, meaning I’m going to be sleeping on the plane because otherwise I’ll be mostly incoherent.

I am still terrified of completely missing the bus to Harlaxton but with so many people I am beginning to doubt I will. Famous. Last. Words.

It’s really kind of quiet up here. We’re all exhausted. I got into the airport at 11ish this morning, sat around waiting till about 3-something, then I went through the airplane counter thing, checked in my checked baggage stuff, and headed over to security. We (meaning the entire planeload going to England) stood about an HOUR AND A HALF and were thrown through at speeds never before seen by man (I had barely flung my shoes into the bin before it went flying through security, along with my coat and backpack) and then SAT for another hour and a half waiting for the plane to A) show up and B) get whatever technical difficulties it was having over with. Then we sat about another 45 minutes on the tarmac because there was ice on the wings from all the waiting around they’d been doing.

You would think, after all of this waiting, standing, waiting, flinging shoes into bins, and waiting some more, that we WOULD be a little tired. Damn right.

Nothing much more to say; I have a massive headache and I think I’m going to close my eyes for a while and rest them.

Cheers,
Bec

Early Friday Where I Am

I have slept a couple of hours, as most people have, I think, which is why we all seem a bit more perky this morning.

Despite the stories I’ve heard about airplane food, I actually liked it very much. I had some fruit stuff, cheese, spaghetti, crackers, water in a container…it was all very nice. This morning I’m having water and a breakfast bar which wasn’t bad either.
The sky is getting light over the edge of the horizon and the plane is yet again shaking from turbulence. Am still freaking out just a tad every time this happens; thinking the plane is going down in the water.

I can’t figure it out yet, but there’s land off to the side of us and I can’t figure out what piece of land it is. I just know ocean doesn’t have that many bumps.

NOTE FROM LATER: I found out when the light came up a bit that those were clouds and we were far above them. They looked like you could walk on them.

The turbulence is pretty bad at the moment, and since I’m sitting just behind the wings it’s a little terrifying to see them shake up and down with the movement of the plane.

Will be there soon; about another hour. I might actually see Ireland in the daylight…

Cheers,
Bec

Later On Friday

I made it to the bus alive, but only because I stuck with the Orange Tag Posse and we stood awhile again, first in the UK border place where they make sure you’re not some illegal trying to get in, second in the baggage claim where we found our bags quite easily but weren’t sure where to go next, and thirdly in the Meeting Place, waiting for the bus to show up.

I am sitting on the bus typing this. It’s foggy-cloudy: exactly what I expected of London. The signs are weird, the weather’s quite warm, and THERE IS NO SNOW. This is a bonus, in case you’re wondering.

Phil the driver just told us “he’s got the fridge on” so we’re going to get colder-it’s a bit hot and stuffy in here. We are apparently waiting for three poor souls who are somewhere between Terminal 3 and 4 but nobody is sure where they are.

Minutes later, we found them and started the three hour ride north to Grantham. We made it here sometime this afternoon and we are all exhausted. This place, as evidenced by the pictures, is just plain wow.

I will write more when my brain is going to let me.

Cheers,
Bec