Bethany and I worked on our Merchant of Venice presentation today. This involved an amazing amount of printing, and watching the two movie versions we could get our hands on.
The 2004 version with Jeremy Irons and Joseph Fiennes was far better than the one we're currently watching. The BBC may have stuck neatly to the script but the actors have no life at all; they're like pasteboard dolls. And the guy who was supposed to be Moroccan and somehow turned out to be from India? We merely laughed uncontrollably.
I can't believe none of these people have cracked up yet; they either have no sense of humor or there were a lot of takes.
Today I did some homework; I was having trouble focusing on it and I'm not sure why. I'm totally sure that on Sunday, I will panic, focus, and do the work I have to do, but it seemed like today I really needed the timeout.
Tomorrow we're off to Coventry and Stratford (glee! Shakespeare! After spending an entire day watching and reading and being driven crazy by it, tomorrow I get drowned utterly in it)
Nothing much else to say; long day tomorrow, and I'll probably spend all of my time on the bus trying to get more homework done. I have so much to do I'm afraid I won't finish it.
Cheers,
Bec
29.2.08
28.2.08
Thursday
Last night was the Talent Show. It was fun; I was backstage for most of it because I was performing a poem, but it was fun. One of the guys sang an ode to one of the profs and he won. My friends did a Harry Potter thing and got third.
I didn't win at all; that's all right with me.
Belvoir Castle was weird; it had similarities to Harlaxton but it was different. There was something really odd about it...
I'm going out with some of the girls tonight so this is about all I'm going to say.
Cheers,
Bec
I didn't win at all; that's all right with me.
Belvoir Castle was weird; it had similarities to Harlaxton but it was different. There was something really odd about it...
I'm going out with some of the girls tonight so this is about all I'm going to say.
Cheers,
Bec
27.2.08
Earthquake!
Yeah, we had an earthquake in the middle of the night here. Most of us were sleeping; some of us were up, but the gist of it is that we hit a lovely 5.3 on the Richter scale last night.
I thought I was on a train; it felt like that, but then I came to full awareness and realized I was still in my room at the Carriage House and that the moving was from something else.
It was when everyone else on the floor started running out of their rooms and going, "What is it?" "It's an earthquake!" "In ENGLAND?"
Apparently the epicenter was practically just under us in Market Rasen, which is about 50 miles from here.
We're all fine here; there was apparently some damage to homes in the shire we're in but no one hurt too badly. One of the cherubs in the Long Gallery tipped himself over (but he's been put back where he belongs). Someone in Yorkshire had their chimney fall in on them, but apparently they weren't hurt too badly.
So don't panic or anything: but I just survived an earthquake.
We're going to see Belvoir (pronounced Beaver) Castle today and we're going to learn more about the Manor. Hopefully everything's still intact (ha ha).
Cheers,
Bec
I thought I was on a train; it felt like that, but then I came to full awareness and realized I was still in my room at the Carriage House and that the moving was from something else.
It was when everyone else on the floor started running out of their rooms and going, "What is it?" "It's an earthquake!" "In ENGLAND?"
Apparently the epicenter was practically just under us in Market Rasen, which is about 50 miles from here.
We're all fine here; there was apparently some damage to homes in the shire we're in but no one hurt too badly. One of the cherubs in the Long Gallery tipped himself over (but he's been put back where he belongs). Someone in Yorkshire had their chimney fall in on them, but apparently they weren't hurt too badly.
So don't panic or anything: but I just survived an earthquake.
We're going to see Belvoir (pronounced Beaver) Castle today and we're going to learn more about the Manor. Hopefully everything's still intact (ha ha).
Cheers,
Bec
25.2.08
Wells-Bath-Glastonbury-Stonehenge: DETAILS!
Yeah, lost my signal on Saturday night, so here's Saturday and Sunday's stuff:
Day 2-Wells Cathedral, Glastonbury Abbey, and the Bath Fashion Museum
Wells Cathedral
First thing we did today was mistake one church for another. It turned out that the church we started out taking pictures of assuming it was the cathedral was a smaller church down the road from the real cathedral.
Two blocks later we found the cathedral, which was kind of small as cathedrals go but it was beautiful all the same. I got some lovely pictures in there, saw the world’s second-oldest clock, and walked on some really old stairs.
We found a chocolate shop about a block away from the cathedral and I indulged my bad, sinful side by buying a couple of truffles, which I promptly snarfed down because truffles are a very big weak spot in my armor. Very big. Huge.
Glastonbury Abbey
A brief history lesson. Bear with me-this IS leading us someplace…
For those who don’t know, Henry the Eighth had a lot of wives-6, to be exact.
But while he was still on wife #1, who had been the very Catholic wife of his deceased brother, he was already looking at Anne Boleyn, wife #2. He wanted to divorce the first and marry the second, but to do that he had to get the Church’s approval.
But the Church, having considered the matter, decided they wouldn’t grant the divorce.
Henry, being rich, important, and galdarn it, the King of England already, threw the equivalent of a royal tantrum. He formed his own church, the Church of England (Anglican today in England; Episcopalian back in the States) so that he could get the divorce he wanted.
He also started, in the name of said new religion, destroying, demolishing, defacing, and taking over the Catholic houses of worship for Anglican use (talk about being bitter.) Lincoln Cathedral had the heads of statues and tombs removed; we saw the destruction on our class trip. Durham Cathedral mostly escaped unscathed (probably because it was far to the north), as did Wells Cathedral, which we saw today.
But some didn’t survive. Glastonbury Abbey was one of the casualties of Henry’s purge; it was almost completely destroyed. And that’s where we went second today.
What’s left of it is mostly walls sticking up from the ground. You can still discern the outline of where they stood in the grass when you walk across the grounds, and some of the chapels and buildings are still partially standing.
It’s a very lonely sort of place; it has a sadness to it that I can’t really begin to explain. Maybe it’s the fact that there was some sort of church there for about 1000 years, and due to one king’s anger, the whole thing now feels like a memorial to something that’s been lost. It feels so dignified even in the face of the terrible destruction that must have been done there; there’s something still remaining to what must have been a beautiful abbey.
The crocuses and daffodils were in bloom in the corners of the walls and though the sun wasn’t shining today, we got to see some of what Glastonbury had to offer. I got to see both King Arthur’s (and Guinevere, too) supposed graves, until he was moved in the 12th century by Edward I’s guys, who moved him inside what would have been the abbey at the time. Then when Henry VIII knocked the place over, he also knocked over the tomb that his ancestor had set up. All that’s left is a little square in the ground, marking where the tomb should be.
I deeply regret not getting to climb Glastonbury Tor and see the monument there (supposedly this is the basis for Avalon-you can see the hill that the Tor is on when you’re two miles away from it and Arthur is supposed to have buried his treasures there)
I also am kind of upset that I didn’t get time to search for the Arimethea thorn tree (Joseph of Arimethea supposedly arrived on these shores (some say with the Holy Grail in his possession) and at the first place where he planted his staff into the ground, according to legend, a thorn tree grew. It IS a Middle Eastern thorn tree, so you figure out how the hell the seeds got all the way to England and managed to grow here without SOME assistance)
Anyway, regret not seeing those things, but we only had an hour.
We came back to Bath and Tiffany, being a theatre major in costume design at Millikin where she normally goes to school, wanted desperately to see the Bath Fashion Museum. A whole bunch of us followed behind her, if only to watch her face when she saw some of the dresses they had on display there.
She didn’t breathe for the entire hour we were in there (think me if I got into the Library of Congress. There ya go…) Some of the dresses were really interesting and old, and even if I didn’t understand entirely how they were created or their significance to the history of costume design or fashion or whatever, I was totally there for Tiffany in her moment of GAH! LOOK AT THAT SILK! THAT LACE!
Then we went to a pub because Bethany was near fainting (diabetes) and so while she ate, we watched the Six Nations rugby match start off (Wales vs. Italy; then Ireland vs. Scotland; tonight we’re going to watch England vs. France. This should be interesting…)
I don’t totally understand rugby, having only played it in high school and spent most of the time trying to escape physical injury by running away from those who had the ball (why they put their arms around each other’s shoulders and THEN whoop! the ball goes up and over and they sort of half-tackle, run, slam into each other, and then it sort of ends up as a painful-looking mosh pit/piggy pile onto the poor soul who happens to have the ball, and if the ball does come flying out of the pile and get scooped up by someone, it all happens AGAIN.)
It’s similar to American football, but there appears to be A) a bit more tossing of the ball both between players and up into the air B) more pain to the players, as they don’t seem to wear any kind of protective gear except for teeth gear and something that should be perfectly obvious (there’s a ton of bodyslamming going on and they’re all guys, so…) and C) they seem to get knocked around but they appear to go straight back on the field, even having quick field neurological exams.
We’re going to watch the English hopefully kill the French. Again. Or there’s going to be a lot of angry, slightly boozed, English pubgoers watching the game…
Later on, we went to a pub near the hotel (there were 7 of us). Three of us refrained from really hitting the alcohol (Holly, Tiff, and me), and the rest of them drank some shots and some other drinks but none of them really got anything beyond a buzz.
England beat France in rugby; they were in the lead the entire game but clinched it nicely in the last 30 seconds with one of their guys throwing himself bodily over the end zone line for a touchdown. This was made all the more difficult due to the fact that he had half the French team hanging off his legs trying to stop him doing exactly that, and behind THEM were the English hanging onto their ankles trying to stop them stopping their guy.
Hey, we were watching for the cute guys anyway.
SUNDAY
Today we started out at the Roman baths. The Romans liked the hot springs there; they built a big complex of buildings and used the water bubbling up as a sacred pool to Minerva Salis (Celtic mother goddess or something) and the Roman construction is still holding the water in the bath after 2000 years. Their drainage system for getting the water out to the River Avon is still in operation, too.
It was really neat to see Roman stuff again; the fort wasn’t nearly as fascinating as this stuff was. This stuff was still in some form of use after all this time (we weren’t encouraged to touch the water, as it was untreated and Lord knew what was in it).
We left Bath and went down the road to Stonehenge. For some reason I thought the stones making up Stonehenge would be bigger. They were huge; don’t get me wrong, and I, like so many other people, would love to know how the heck they got those rocks all the way up there and into place.
It was an amazing place, but what really cracked me up about the whole thing was okay, there was Stonehenge, THE Stonehenge. World Heritage Site, everyone in the world knows what it looks like, big rocks in the ground…and what made the thing so quintessentially English was the sheep grazing just beyond the fence where the tourists were walking around the monument. The sheep were completely oblivious to the entire thing; they just kept nipping up bits of grass.
Yes, people, in England, the sheep ARE everywhere.
Went to Salisbury, ate lunch, but due to lack of time, we missed the cathedral there. We’re headed back now; my (ha ha) right arm is still a bit sore but I’m trying not to push it too far. So my report will end here :)
Now the status of my arms...
Despite the anti-inflammatory medication I’m on now, I still am having “flares” up and down my arms. They’re random and momentary; sharp and intense and from ten seconds to a minute long, usually in the area between my elbow and my fingertips, and on both sides pretty equally.
Don’t get me wrong-I have improved drastically in the last three days. They’re far better than what I was dealing with last week, and I’ll keep taking the pills. I was just kind of hoping to myself that the pain would go away entirely for awhile.
I can only assume the inflammation is worse than anyone believed and the pills are still bringing it under control. That’s a positive assumption, thank you very much. If the pills are supposedly to completely quell my inflammation and I am still having breakthrough pain, this is not good, and I may still have to see a rheumatologist over here. This will cost hundreds of pounds that I haven’t got. This may mean steroid shots. And that is not good at all.
I went to see the nurse on Monday morning and she gave me paracetamol, which though I have difficulty pronouncing, is usually helpful in giving me some more function in my right arm.
Pictures will come later today when I'm not in class ignoring everything that's being said...
Cheers,
Bec
Day 2-Wells Cathedral, Glastonbury Abbey, and the Bath Fashion Museum
Wells Cathedral
First thing we did today was mistake one church for another. It turned out that the church we started out taking pictures of assuming it was the cathedral was a smaller church down the road from the real cathedral.
Two blocks later we found the cathedral, which was kind of small as cathedrals go but it was beautiful all the same. I got some lovely pictures in there, saw the world’s second-oldest clock, and walked on some really old stairs.
We found a chocolate shop about a block away from the cathedral and I indulged my bad, sinful side by buying a couple of truffles, which I promptly snarfed down because truffles are a very big weak spot in my armor. Very big. Huge.
Glastonbury Abbey
A brief history lesson. Bear with me-this IS leading us someplace…
For those who don’t know, Henry the Eighth had a lot of wives-6, to be exact.
But while he was still on wife #1, who had been the very Catholic wife of his deceased brother, he was already looking at Anne Boleyn, wife #2. He wanted to divorce the first and marry the second, but to do that he had to get the Church’s approval.
But the Church, having considered the matter, decided they wouldn’t grant the divorce.
Henry, being rich, important, and galdarn it, the King of England already, threw the equivalent of a royal tantrum. He formed his own church, the Church of England (Anglican today in England; Episcopalian back in the States) so that he could get the divorce he wanted.
He also started, in the name of said new religion, destroying, demolishing, defacing, and taking over the Catholic houses of worship for Anglican use (talk about being bitter.) Lincoln Cathedral had the heads of statues and tombs removed; we saw the destruction on our class trip. Durham Cathedral mostly escaped unscathed (probably because it was far to the north), as did Wells Cathedral, which we saw today.
But some didn’t survive. Glastonbury Abbey was one of the casualties of Henry’s purge; it was almost completely destroyed. And that’s where we went second today.
What’s left of it is mostly walls sticking up from the ground. You can still discern the outline of where they stood in the grass when you walk across the grounds, and some of the chapels and buildings are still partially standing.
It’s a very lonely sort of place; it has a sadness to it that I can’t really begin to explain. Maybe it’s the fact that there was some sort of church there for about 1000 years, and due to one king’s anger, the whole thing now feels like a memorial to something that’s been lost. It feels so dignified even in the face of the terrible destruction that must have been done there; there’s something still remaining to what must have been a beautiful abbey.
The crocuses and daffodils were in bloom in the corners of the walls and though the sun wasn’t shining today, we got to see some of what Glastonbury had to offer. I got to see both King Arthur’s (and Guinevere, too) supposed graves, until he was moved in the 12th century by Edward I’s guys, who moved him inside what would have been the abbey at the time. Then when Henry VIII knocked the place over, he also knocked over the tomb that his ancestor had set up. All that’s left is a little square in the ground, marking where the tomb should be.
I deeply regret not getting to climb Glastonbury Tor and see the monument there (supposedly this is the basis for Avalon-you can see the hill that the Tor is on when you’re two miles away from it and Arthur is supposed to have buried his treasures there)
I also am kind of upset that I didn’t get time to search for the Arimethea thorn tree (Joseph of Arimethea supposedly arrived on these shores (some say with the Holy Grail in his possession) and at the first place where he planted his staff into the ground, according to legend, a thorn tree grew. It IS a Middle Eastern thorn tree, so you figure out how the hell the seeds got all the way to England and managed to grow here without SOME assistance)
Anyway, regret not seeing those things, but we only had an hour.
We came back to Bath and Tiffany, being a theatre major in costume design at Millikin where she normally goes to school, wanted desperately to see the Bath Fashion Museum. A whole bunch of us followed behind her, if only to watch her face when she saw some of the dresses they had on display there.
She didn’t breathe for the entire hour we were in there (think me if I got into the Library of Congress. There ya go…) Some of the dresses were really interesting and old, and even if I didn’t understand entirely how they were created or their significance to the history of costume design or fashion or whatever, I was totally there for Tiffany in her moment of GAH! LOOK AT THAT SILK! THAT LACE!
Then we went to a pub because Bethany was near fainting (diabetes) and so while she ate, we watched the Six Nations rugby match start off (Wales vs. Italy; then Ireland vs. Scotland; tonight we’re going to watch England vs. France. This should be interesting…)
I don’t totally understand rugby, having only played it in high school and spent most of the time trying to escape physical injury by running away from those who had the ball (why they put their arms around each other’s shoulders and THEN whoop! the ball goes up and over and they sort of half-tackle, run, slam into each other, and then it sort of ends up as a painful-looking mosh pit/piggy pile onto the poor soul who happens to have the ball, and if the ball does come flying out of the pile and get scooped up by someone, it all happens AGAIN.)
It’s similar to American football, but there appears to be A) a bit more tossing of the ball both between players and up into the air B) more pain to the players, as they don’t seem to wear any kind of protective gear except for teeth gear and something that should be perfectly obvious (there’s a ton of bodyslamming going on and they’re all guys, so…) and C) they seem to get knocked around but they appear to go straight back on the field, even having quick field neurological exams.
We’re going to watch the English hopefully kill the French. Again. Or there’s going to be a lot of angry, slightly boozed, English pubgoers watching the game…
Later on, we went to a pub near the hotel (there were 7 of us). Three of us refrained from really hitting the alcohol (Holly, Tiff, and me), and the rest of them drank some shots and some other drinks but none of them really got anything beyond a buzz.
England beat France in rugby; they were in the lead the entire game but clinched it nicely in the last 30 seconds with one of their guys throwing himself bodily over the end zone line for a touchdown. This was made all the more difficult due to the fact that he had half the French team hanging off his legs trying to stop him doing exactly that, and behind THEM were the English hanging onto their ankles trying to stop them stopping their guy.
Hey, we were watching for the cute guys anyway.
SUNDAY
Today we started out at the Roman baths. The Romans liked the hot springs there; they built a big complex of buildings and used the water bubbling up as a sacred pool to Minerva Salis (Celtic mother goddess or something) and the Roman construction is still holding the water in the bath after 2000 years. Their drainage system for getting the water out to the River Avon is still in operation, too.
It was really neat to see Roman stuff again; the fort wasn’t nearly as fascinating as this stuff was. This stuff was still in some form of use after all this time (we weren’t encouraged to touch the water, as it was untreated and Lord knew what was in it).
We left Bath and went down the road to Stonehenge. For some reason I thought the stones making up Stonehenge would be bigger. They were huge; don’t get me wrong, and I, like so many other people, would love to know how the heck they got those rocks all the way up there and into place.
It was an amazing place, but what really cracked me up about the whole thing was okay, there was Stonehenge, THE Stonehenge. World Heritage Site, everyone in the world knows what it looks like, big rocks in the ground…and what made the thing so quintessentially English was the sheep grazing just beyond the fence where the tourists were walking around the monument. The sheep were completely oblivious to the entire thing; they just kept nipping up bits of grass.
Yes, people, in England, the sheep ARE everywhere.
Went to Salisbury, ate lunch, but due to lack of time, we missed the cathedral there. We’re headed back now; my (ha ha) right arm is still a bit sore but I’m trying not to push it too far. So my report will end here :)
Now the status of my arms...
Despite the anti-inflammatory medication I’m on now, I still am having “flares” up and down my arms. They’re random and momentary; sharp and intense and from ten seconds to a minute long, usually in the area between my elbow and my fingertips, and on both sides pretty equally.
Don’t get me wrong-I have improved drastically in the last three days. They’re far better than what I was dealing with last week, and I’ll keep taking the pills. I was just kind of hoping to myself that the pain would go away entirely for awhile.
I can only assume the inflammation is worse than anyone believed and the pills are still bringing it under control. That’s a positive assumption, thank you very much. If the pills are supposedly to completely quell my inflammation and I am still having breakthrough pain, this is not good, and I may still have to see a rheumatologist over here. This will cost hundreds of pounds that I haven’t got. This may mean steroid shots. And that is not good at all.
I went to see the nurse on Monday morning and she gave me paracetamol, which though I have difficulty pronouncing, is usually helpful in giving me some more function in my right arm.
Pictures will come later today when I'm not in class ignoring everything that's being said...
Cheers,
Bec
22.2.08
Okay, So I Lied...
It appears that I can talk to y'all from my hotel room in Bath. We had a fairly windy day in Oxford and we saw all things Tolkien-first the pub where he hung out with C.S. Lewis (of Narnia fame) and a couple of other authors once a week for about 30 years. Then we decided to find his grave-we knew it was going to be a bit of a walk but we didn't mind.
It turned out that "a bit of a walk" was a couple of miles. Suffice it to say that in the end, we caught a taxi to get where we needed to go and found his and his wife's grave right where the guides said they'd be. We stayed a bit, caught another taxi back to the city center, and went back to the coach parking lot.
Then we came to Bath, which is lovely from what little I've seen of it thus far (getting dark when we got here). We're going on the optional trip to Glastonbury and Wells Cathedral. Why should we stay here when there's Arthurian legend to check out?
My signal's kind of bad here, so I'll be signing off.
Cheers,
Bec
It turned out that "a bit of a walk" was a couple of miles. Suffice it to say that in the end, we caught a taxi to get where we needed to go and found his and his wife's grave right where the guides said they'd be. We stayed a bit, caught another taxi back to the city center, and went back to the coach parking lot.
Then we came to Bath, which is lovely from what little I've seen of it thus far (getting dark when we got here). We're going on the optional trip to Glastonbury and Wells Cathedral. Why should we stay here when there's Arthurian legend to check out?
My signal's kind of bad here, so I'll be signing off.
Cheers,
Bec
21.2.08
Dryer Doors Hate Me
Now I'm totally sure of it, after spending almost an entire day NOT HURTING! (YAY!)My new medication is working. I am feeling better than I've felt in about two weeks, maybe longer.
It won't last but I'll have this to look back on...
But I am clearly still fragile, because as I was bending down to get my laundry out of the dryer today, the dryer door came back and hit me in the shoulder.
You'd say, "Yeah, okay, so what?" but IT HURT. A LOT. Like someone had stuck a knife in it kind of pain.
And then it proceeded to throb, ache, and twinge for an hour and a half AFTER I got hit with the door.
Yeah, it's weird. I have no earthly idea why something so minor hurt for that long, but I am taking no chances this weekend. I am going to avoid smacking into nouns. That means person, place, thing, or idea (can you get smacked by an idea? Possibly). If I'm going to survive in this new, weird, I'm-off-my-ibuprofen-era I am going to need to be much more careful.
Especially around dryer doors.
This also presents a new issue: Shoulder. My shoulders weren't in on the RA game last I checked. When did THEY get in on the fun? Surely the thing isn't spreading, because if it is then the prescription I've been on for 6 months is doing diddly squat and this thing is spreading like wildfire in a Santa Ana wind.
And I will SO be getting a new rheumatologist if this thing's getting worse even with the meds he's given me (next level is steroids. Yay me.)
Wouldn't you know. Mine's aggressive. It was only a matter of time before they had to hand me my doses in needles...
I'm thinking of getting a full-body X-ray, just to see if there's anything ELSE I should be aware of going on in there. I've had my head X-rayed several times, just my teeth and then my whole head a couple of years ago (nothing there-just like I thought) and my feet and hands (all perfect as of last August, save for that annoying bit of swelling on them).
This is insane. It was a bloody, stupid, insignificant dryer door. The little tap it gave me would have made everyone else in this place probably shove it back angrily. ME it causes a ruckus inside that sends me into a philosophical debate over whether my shoulders are going bad or not.
I think I'm going spare.
So, anyhoo, on happier subjects, I will not be posting tomorrow or Saturday because, once again, I'm leaving Harlaxton to go off someplace. This time it's Oxford, Bath, and Stonehenge. Next week we go to Coventry and Stratford and then I stay here for a LONG time...save a few field trips.
Not much else to say; think I covered today pretty nicely. Did my laundry, got hit with dryer door (hashed that out already) and took a test (did okay, I think) and half-packed my possessions for leaving tomorrow (got more to do once I'm done here)
So I will talk to all you people when I get back on Sunday night. Let's just hope Oxford (or Bath, or even Stonehenge) aren't full of dryer doors waiting to bite me...
Cheers,
Bec
It won't last but I'll have this to look back on...
But I am clearly still fragile, because as I was bending down to get my laundry out of the dryer today, the dryer door came back and hit me in the shoulder.
You'd say, "Yeah, okay, so what?" but IT HURT. A LOT. Like someone had stuck a knife in it kind of pain.
And then it proceeded to throb, ache, and twinge for an hour and a half AFTER I got hit with the door.
Yeah, it's weird. I have no earthly idea why something so minor hurt for that long, but I am taking no chances this weekend. I am going to avoid smacking into nouns. That means person, place, thing, or idea (can you get smacked by an idea? Possibly). If I'm going to survive in this new, weird, I'm-off-my-ibuprofen-era I am going to need to be much more careful.
Especially around dryer doors.
This also presents a new issue: Shoulder. My shoulders weren't in on the RA game last I checked. When did THEY get in on the fun? Surely the thing isn't spreading, because if it is then the prescription I've been on for 6 months is doing diddly squat and this thing is spreading like wildfire in a Santa Ana wind.
And I will SO be getting a new rheumatologist if this thing's getting worse even with the meds he's given me (next level is steroids. Yay me.)
Wouldn't you know. Mine's aggressive. It was only a matter of time before they had to hand me my doses in needles...
I'm thinking of getting a full-body X-ray, just to see if there's anything ELSE I should be aware of going on in there. I've had my head X-rayed several times, just my teeth and then my whole head a couple of years ago (nothing there-just like I thought) and my feet and hands (all perfect as of last August, save for that annoying bit of swelling on them).
This is insane. It was a bloody, stupid, insignificant dryer door. The little tap it gave me would have made everyone else in this place probably shove it back angrily. ME it causes a ruckus inside that sends me into a philosophical debate over whether my shoulders are going bad or not.
I think I'm going spare.
So, anyhoo, on happier subjects, I will not be posting tomorrow or Saturday because, once again, I'm leaving Harlaxton to go off someplace. This time it's Oxford, Bath, and Stonehenge. Next week we go to Coventry and Stratford and then I stay here for a LONG time...save a few field trips.
Not much else to say; think I covered today pretty nicely. Did my laundry, got hit with dryer door (hashed that out already) and took a test (did okay, I think) and half-packed my possessions for leaving tomorrow (got more to do once I'm done here)
So I will talk to all you people when I get back on Sunday night. Let's just hope Oxford (or Bath, or even Stonehenge) aren't full of dryer doors waiting to bite me...
Cheers,
Bec
20.2.08
Cut The Crap, Hamlet-My Biological Clock is Ticking and I Want Babies NOW!!!
After a long, long day in endless rounds of British Studies (I say four hours is too much) several of us got on a coach bus tonight and went to the nearby town of Grantham to see the Complete Works of Shakespeare.
If you don't know what that is, that's like taking all the Shakespeare plays, putting them in a blender, modernizing some bits, and watching the whole thing splat against the wall like ooze.
It was hilarious. The quote I put up above was one we had to shout to represent part of Ophelia from Hamlet having a crisis of identity. They did it all with three guys and a limited number of props-really amazing stuff. I don't think they did all 37 (I could have sworn they missed about 5 or 6) but it was a hoot to watch the Titus Andronicus cooking show (that play is Shakey's first and extremely rough and bloody-hence it's easy to make fun of)
Earlier today I went to the doctor, and after giving me new meds to try and control the inflammation in my arms, she also took three vials of my blood to test my ESR, or sedimentation rate. It has something to do with the way things get filtered; when the rate is high, things are not filtering well and I have problems. Things block up. Things get ugly like they have been for the past two weeks. So mine is probably somewhere near Jupiter...
Anyway, we'll see the results of that test next Tuesday, and that's going to give the doc here an indication of how good or how bad things are getting in there. Lately it's been bad, but the anti-inflammatory stuff she gave me should change some of that. Hopefully soon.
I'm tired, and I should be getting to bed-another way of controlling this stupid disease. No fun and games like everyone else in the building seems to be having, no late night parties, no staying up late to watch movies or do homework. I have to go to bed like a ten year old.
Sometimes I really wish things were different.
Sorry for whining; been a long day and a long couple of weeks.
Cheers,
Bec
If you don't know what that is, that's like taking all the Shakespeare plays, putting them in a blender, modernizing some bits, and watching the whole thing splat against the wall like ooze.
It was hilarious. The quote I put up above was one we had to shout to represent part of Ophelia from Hamlet having a crisis of identity. They did it all with three guys and a limited number of props-really amazing stuff. I don't think they did all 37 (I could have sworn they missed about 5 or 6) but it was a hoot to watch the Titus Andronicus cooking show (that play is Shakey's first and extremely rough and bloody-hence it's easy to make fun of)
Earlier today I went to the doctor, and after giving me new meds to try and control the inflammation in my arms, she also took three vials of my blood to test my ESR, or sedimentation rate. It has something to do with the way things get filtered; when the rate is high, things are not filtering well and I have problems. Things block up. Things get ugly like they have been for the past two weeks. So mine is probably somewhere near Jupiter...
Anyway, we'll see the results of that test next Tuesday, and that's going to give the doc here an indication of how good or how bad things are getting in there. Lately it's been bad, but the anti-inflammatory stuff she gave me should change some of that. Hopefully soon.
I'm tired, and I should be getting to bed-another way of controlling this stupid disease. No fun and games like everyone else in the building seems to be having, no late night parties, no staying up late to watch movies or do homework. I have to go to bed like a ten year old.
Sometimes I really wish things were different.
Sorry for whining; been a long day and a long couple of weeks.
Cheers,
Bec
19.2.08
Finally...The Wales Report
We left early Friday morning for Wales and started off the day in Chester, which is on the border of Wales. It was quite a nice place; the wall that used to guard the city now is a walkway down to the city. The entire place is basically built on this old wall that's smack dab in the middle, and there are stairs leading down off of it to places. Even houses are built into it; you could have your house in one place and your job down the wall at the end of it.
Then we arrived in Llandudno, which is on the sea. It has the feel of a retiree's resort town; there's a pier with little shops on it going out into the ocean, and the streets in the town are all full of interesting shops.
We went out to a pub there (strangely, in both Scotland and Ireland there was singing in and around the pubs, but the Welsh didn't sing) and then I went back to the hotel and after having taken more painkillers, I spent a half-hour in the shower trying to get some relief from my nasty arm pain.
Then I dropped off to sleep with King Lear on my chest.
Friday morning we had a lovely breakfast in the hotel, and went to Caernarfon Castle (that's pronounced Car-narv-on, like the guy who funded Howard Carter's expedition to dig up Tut). Then they let us loose. We were all over the castle; up towers and down hallways and in and out of passages. That was a blast. We found out, yet again, that though they built lovely castles, the people in the Middle Ages had trouble with stairs. They were narrow, they were uneven, and they got worse the further you went up. At least it was lovely and sunny, or I could have complained about the wet, too.
Then we went to a place called Portmeirion. This must be Welsh for "odd town," because though the place was lovely and the buildings built wonderfully, the atmosphere was just...weird. I can't explain it. It just felt sort of floaty and out of place.
But then, ah, then we found the beach.
The town is up on a high bit of rock overlooking this HUGE expanse of sand, surrounded by mountains. It's a tidal flat-where I stood was going to be flooded about an hour to two hours after I left it. You could see the ripples in the sand where the waves had been.
I was practically giddy; it was so cool. Not even the picture of a palm tree or the flowers could compare.
Then we went to Llechwedd Slate Caverns. Wales is known for slate mining; we had a short tour of it, though I have to admit the accents on the characters being portrayed through a rotten sound system were so thick that I could barely understand what was being said. I got the gist: they mined slate and it was dangerous.
The good thing is, however, I got a sheep there. His name is Ianto, after Ianto Jones in Torchwood (it's a show in Wales with Welsh names. His seemed to fit the sheep.) He officially became the Welsh mascot of the trip. Wales may have a dragon on their flag, but they should have a sheep. The darn things were everywhere; on the hillsides, in the fields, off the fields, around the corner...SHEEP.
It didn't help that we girls squealed every time we spotted a lamb bouncing around.
We got back to the hotel; Holly and I got something to eat and then I crashed about 8 that night and barring only waking up briefly twice, I got up about 7 in the morning.
My arm was really, really feeling good. I mean it. Sunday morning I woke up and barring the obvious leftover twinges, I wasn't hurting non-stop anymore.
But morning brought its own interesting news: In the middle of the night sometime, one of the guys had turned his shower on, gotten distracted, and left for three hours. He flooded his hotel room, funny enough probably while he was jumping in the ocean.
He came down to breakfast looking pretty sheepish (ha ha.)
Then we went to Swallow Falls, which is a really big waterfall in what could be nicely termed as the middle of nowhere. It was icy on the stairs down to the falls; probably because we were up in the mountains.
Betwys y Coed was next. It's a little town about 5 miles down the river, but it still has rapids running all the way through it. We stayed for a bit-I got chocolate for myself and a souvenir for Mom that she's going to laugh at (probably really, really hard, since her sense of humor is as warped as mine. Sorry, Ma.)
Then we were headed back here, and that's when things went a wee bit sour.
We had watched one movie (The Kingdom-little loud but not too bad) and a few minutes later were kind of asking for another one. One of the professors got a bit rude; said he didn't want to watch another one and that he didn't want to be subjected to that much noise with that sound system.
There was silence for a bit, then we disregarded him and tried to start Wedding Crashers. The DVD was having problems; meanwhile, the professor who'd been complaining was on the cell phone talking to someone.
Then we saw him get up and go up to Bronwyn, who was our trip chaperone, and talk to her for a couple of minutes, and then he sat back down.
The TV was abruptly shut off without explanation, but one of the girls came back and said that this professor had called the principal of Harlaxton and complained, and then when he apparently didn't get a decent response out of him, went to Bronwyn and said that he wanted his money back for every trip, all of them, if any movie was turned on.
So, in retaliation, the entire back of the bus sang songs for an hour, everything from Bohemian Rhapsody to Happy Birthday.
I think most of the students at this moment think he overreacted to the situation; some of us say that some of the students in the back did, too. I personally think that if he'd wanted a nice, quiet trip with his wife someplace he shouldn't have climbed onto a bus with a bunch of 19-21 year olds. That's just asking for trouble.
He's got enough money as a professor I don't see why he just can't go independently and quit yelling at us when we want to have something to alleviate our boredom during a long bus ride. Throwing a tantrum like a five year old didn't impress me at all; merely made me think that maybe he should get off and find his own way back to Harlaxton.
But that's my take on it.
Today I visited the doctor; who suggested that fatigue might have been a factor in my flareup (I get tired, my immune system goes AH! and everything starts to kind of PSH on me.) She's going to try and get me better anti-inflammatory stuff; meanwhile I am to not push my arm beyond what it can take and get to bed at night. And take steady doses of ibuprofen.
That's all for today-think I'm pushing my limits a bit here.
Cheers,
Bec
Then we arrived in Llandudno, which is on the sea. It has the feel of a retiree's resort town; there's a pier with little shops on it going out into the ocean, and the streets in the town are all full of interesting shops.
We went out to a pub there (strangely, in both Scotland and Ireland there was singing in and around the pubs, but the Welsh didn't sing) and then I went back to the hotel and after having taken more painkillers, I spent a half-hour in the shower trying to get some relief from my nasty arm pain.
Then I dropped off to sleep with King Lear on my chest.
Friday morning we had a lovely breakfast in the hotel, and went to Caernarfon Castle (that's pronounced Car-narv-on, like the guy who funded Howard Carter's expedition to dig up Tut). Then they let us loose. We were all over the castle; up towers and down hallways and in and out of passages. That was a blast. We found out, yet again, that though they built lovely castles, the people in the Middle Ages had trouble with stairs. They were narrow, they were uneven, and they got worse the further you went up. At least it was lovely and sunny, or I could have complained about the wet, too.
Then we went to a place called Portmeirion. This must be Welsh for "odd town," because though the place was lovely and the buildings built wonderfully, the atmosphere was just...weird. I can't explain it. It just felt sort of floaty and out of place.
But then, ah, then we found the beach.
The town is up on a high bit of rock overlooking this HUGE expanse of sand, surrounded by mountains. It's a tidal flat-where I stood was going to be flooded about an hour to two hours after I left it. You could see the ripples in the sand where the waves had been.
I was practically giddy; it was so cool. Not even the picture of a palm tree or the flowers could compare.
Then we went to Llechwedd Slate Caverns. Wales is known for slate mining; we had a short tour of it, though I have to admit the accents on the characters being portrayed through a rotten sound system were so thick that I could barely understand what was being said. I got the gist: they mined slate and it was dangerous.
The good thing is, however, I got a sheep there. His name is Ianto, after Ianto Jones in Torchwood (it's a show in Wales with Welsh names. His seemed to fit the sheep.) He officially became the Welsh mascot of the trip. Wales may have a dragon on their flag, but they should have a sheep. The darn things were everywhere; on the hillsides, in the fields, off the fields, around the corner...SHEEP.
It didn't help that we girls squealed every time we spotted a lamb bouncing around.
We got back to the hotel; Holly and I got something to eat and then I crashed about 8 that night and barring only waking up briefly twice, I got up about 7 in the morning.
My arm was really, really feeling good. I mean it. Sunday morning I woke up and barring the obvious leftover twinges, I wasn't hurting non-stop anymore.
But morning brought its own interesting news: In the middle of the night sometime, one of the guys had turned his shower on, gotten distracted, and left for three hours. He flooded his hotel room, funny enough probably while he was jumping in the ocean.
He came down to breakfast looking pretty sheepish (ha ha.)
Then we went to Swallow Falls, which is a really big waterfall in what could be nicely termed as the middle of nowhere. It was icy on the stairs down to the falls; probably because we were up in the mountains.
Betwys y Coed was next. It's a little town about 5 miles down the river, but it still has rapids running all the way through it. We stayed for a bit-I got chocolate for myself and a souvenir for Mom that she's going to laugh at (probably really, really hard, since her sense of humor is as warped as mine. Sorry, Ma.)
Then we were headed back here, and that's when things went a wee bit sour.
We had watched one movie (The Kingdom-little loud but not too bad) and a few minutes later were kind of asking for another one. One of the professors got a bit rude; said he didn't want to watch another one and that he didn't want to be subjected to that much noise with that sound system.
There was silence for a bit, then we disregarded him and tried to start Wedding Crashers. The DVD was having problems; meanwhile, the professor who'd been complaining was on the cell phone talking to someone.
Then we saw him get up and go up to Bronwyn, who was our trip chaperone, and talk to her for a couple of minutes, and then he sat back down.
The TV was abruptly shut off without explanation, but one of the girls came back and said that this professor had called the principal of Harlaxton and complained, and then when he apparently didn't get a decent response out of him, went to Bronwyn and said that he wanted his money back for every trip, all of them, if any movie was turned on.
So, in retaliation, the entire back of the bus sang songs for an hour, everything from Bohemian Rhapsody to Happy Birthday.
I think most of the students at this moment think he overreacted to the situation; some of us say that some of the students in the back did, too. I personally think that if he'd wanted a nice, quiet trip with his wife someplace he shouldn't have climbed onto a bus with a bunch of 19-21 year olds. That's just asking for trouble.
He's got enough money as a professor I don't see why he just can't go independently and quit yelling at us when we want to have something to alleviate our boredom during a long bus ride. Throwing a tantrum like a five year old didn't impress me at all; merely made me think that maybe he should get off and find his own way back to Harlaxton.
But that's my take on it.
Today I visited the doctor; who suggested that fatigue might have been a factor in my flareup (I get tired, my immune system goes AH! and everything starts to kind of PSH on me.) She's going to try and get me better anti-inflammatory stuff; meanwhile I am to not push my arm beyond what it can take and get to bed at night. And take steady doses of ibuprofen.
That's all for today-think I'm pushing my limits a bit here.
Cheers,
Bec
18.2.08
I'm Mean, I Know
Positives:
I have pretty much complete use of my arm back.
I have my photos of Wales.
Negatives:
Arm's not perfect and I am still going to see the doctor tomorrow.
I'm not posting Wales stuff because I have about 400 pages of stuff to read in the next two days.
We are currently at mid-semester here. Papers are coming due in a couple of weeks, we have a quiz on Wednesday, I have to read King Lear in his entirety by 10 tomorrow morning.
When I am not swamped, buried, and otherwise drowning in homework I swear on all the sheep in Wales that I will post the stuff. Just not today...or tomorrow, probably.
Cheers (and terribly sorry, too),
Bec
I have pretty much complete use of my arm back.
I have my photos of Wales.
Negatives:
Arm's not perfect and I am still going to see the doctor tomorrow.
I'm not posting Wales stuff because I have about 400 pages of stuff to read in the next two days.
We are currently at mid-semester here. Papers are coming due in a couple of weeks, we have a quiz on Wednesday, I have to read King Lear in his entirety by 10 tomorrow morning.
When I am not swamped, buried, and otherwise drowning in homework I swear on all the sheep in Wales that I will post the stuff. Just not today...or tomorrow, probably.
Cheers (and terribly sorry, too),
Bec
17.2.08
Better...Will Post More Tomorrow
My arm has improved a lot since last you heard from me (mostly in the last 12 hours,) but I am wary of these things. Just because I feel better now and was able to finish my presentation that's due tomorrow doesn't mean that tomorrow I will feel the same.
That said, I would show you lovely photos of Wales but one of my friends has "borrowed" my camera and not given it back. She can't hide from me here. I will find her.
But tomorrow, because I am very tired and cranky and need to sleep in order to keep being able to type with both hands-it is nice to have both of them working again.
I will give you a full report tomorrow, provided that I am not locked in battle with my camera or my arm.
Cheers,
Bec
That said, I would show you lovely photos of Wales but one of my friends has "borrowed" my camera and not given it back. She can't hide from me here. I will find her.
But tomorrow, because I am very tired and cranky and need to sleep in order to keep being able to type with both hands-it is nice to have both of them working again.
I will give you a full report tomorrow, provided that I am not locked in battle with my camera or my arm.
Cheers,
Bec
14.2.08
I Hate V-Day
I hate Valentine's Day.
It's raining.
And yes, I'm still in pain, and I'm back on two ibuprofen again. I miss being drugged already.
Think I'll watch Christian Bale kill a bunch of people in Equilibrium. I need a good bit of stylized, completely fake,( but ultimately satisfying) shooting and killing for the good of all humanity.
YAY!
I won't be writing again this weekend; I leave tomorrow for North Wales and won't be back till Sunday night. Cheers!
Talk to you all again soon.
Ta,
Bec
It's raining.
And yes, I'm still in pain, and I'm back on two ibuprofen again. I miss being drugged already.
Think I'll watch Christian Bale kill a bunch of people in Equilibrium. I need a good bit of stylized, completely fake,( but ultimately satisfying) shooting and killing for the good of all humanity.
YAY!
I won't be writing again this weekend; I leave tomorrow for North Wales and won't be back till Sunday night. Cheers!
Talk to you all again soon.
Ta,
Bec
13.2.08
4 Ibuprofen Later, I Am Feeling FINE.
Yes, darlings, I am doped up on a red alert level of painkiller at the moment. 4 is the maximum of the little orange babies I can take at a time and MAN are they working...for about another hour and a half. Then I shall come down. It won't be pretty, but HEY. I am out of pain for the next 90 minutes. YAY!
That said, if I could remember the assignment for Novel class I was supposed to finish while on high doses of painkiller (that would be why I took them in the first place,) I would write it down and finish the bloody thing.
But because I can't (could be the ibuprofen making my memory faulty) I'm happily watching Christian Bale fanvids and thoroughly enjoying myself. Nothing like a dark-haired Welshman with cheekbones that could cut ice. Ah.
My pain, when I am not high as a kite on ibuprofen, is not getting better. It hasn't improved at all, in the slightest. Not a smidgen. Started up on Saturday and hasn't let go of me since. I have no idea what's causing it; I have no idea if I will wake up tomorrow and have my arm back weakened but working. I have no idea if it's the arthritis getting worse or if it's something else entirely. All I know is that it hurts now, constantly, unless I am on something.
Yesterday was tough-I am currently veering between crying jags and fits of temper and nothing appears to be helping it (you try having a stable emotional state when everything takes twice as long to do.) I have a paper due tomorrow, I have a presentation due on Monday and I'm unlikely to finish anything unless I am zippity-do-dah high on ibuprofen. I can't stay at these levels all day; I'm only supposed to do this a max of three times a day. They only work four hours. So that gives me twelve hours where I am turned, quite literally, into a high-functioning addict.
I just hope next Tuesday gives me some relief. I can't live like this much longer.
That said, my arm is starting to hurt even through this druggie haze of mine, so I will stop here.
Ta,
Bec
That said, if I could remember the assignment for Novel class I was supposed to finish while on high doses of painkiller (that would be why I took them in the first place,) I would write it down and finish the bloody thing.
But because I can't (could be the ibuprofen making my memory faulty) I'm happily watching Christian Bale fanvids and thoroughly enjoying myself. Nothing like a dark-haired Welshman with cheekbones that could cut ice. Ah.
My pain, when I am not high as a kite on ibuprofen, is not getting better. It hasn't improved at all, in the slightest. Not a smidgen. Started up on Saturday and hasn't let go of me since. I have no idea what's causing it; I have no idea if I will wake up tomorrow and have my arm back weakened but working. I have no idea if it's the arthritis getting worse or if it's something else entirely. All I know is that it hurts now, constantly, unless I am on something.
Yesterday was tough-I am currently veering between crying jags and fits of temper and nothing appears to be helping it (you try having a stable emotional state when everything takes twice as long to do.) I have a paper due tomorrow, I have a presentation due on Monday and I'm unlikely to finish anything unless I am zippity-do-dah high on ibuprofen. I can't stay at these levels all day; I'm only supposed to do this a max of three times a day. They only work four hours. So that gives me twelve hours where I am turned, quite literally, into a high-functioning addict.
I just hope next Tuesday gives me some relief. I can't live like this much longer.
That said, my arm is starting to hurt even through this druggie haze of mine, so I will stop here.
Ta,
Bec
12.2.08
Anyone Got A Meat Cleaver?
This will be short again-sorry. Still sorting out problems here and still in pain and getting frustrated. Need to scream.
AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH.
That's better.
The only bright spot in this whole fiasco is the deleted scene from Stargate Atlantis' Trio, which aired last week. When the scene was deleted and we heard about it, we fans caused all holy hell and we were promised that we would read, see, or hear the scene when the episode had aired.
Hence, deleted scene, resolving about 11 years of Sam/Jack speculation that has caused the back of my head to go flat from being whammed into the wall in frustration. They told us they hooked up, plain and simple. Nice straight answers.
In pain. Must stop. Talk to you later.
Ta,
Bec
AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH.
That's better.
The only bright spot in this whole fiasco is the deleted scene from Stargate Atlantis' Trio, which aired last week. When the scene was deleted and we heard about it, we fans caused all holy hell and we were promised that we would read, see, or hear the scene when the episode had aired.
Hence, deleted scene, resolving about 11 years of Sam/Jack speculation that has caused the back of my head to go flat from being whammed into the wall in frustration. They told us they hooked up, plain and simple. Nice straight answers.
In pain. Must stop. Talk to you later.
Ta,
Bec
11.2.08
She Doesn't Mean Any 'Arm...
Sorry-Fawlty Towers joke there...o ha.
Went to the nurse, who sent me to the doctor, who told me to call my mother, who's calling the US doctor, who's going to tell Mom to tell me to tell the nurse to tell the doctor what medication I need for my arm.
Got that?
I am hoping everything works itself out and that I just magically get better, because I AM worn out already and it's only Monday.
We'll see how it all pans out. I'm pretty sore tonight, so I think I'll end this here.
Ta,
Bec
Went to the nurse, who sent me to the doctor, who told me to call my mother, who's calling the US doctor, who's going to tell Mom to tell me to tell the nurse to tell the doctor what medication I need for my arm.
Got that?
I am hoping everything works itself out and that I just magically get better, because I AM worn out already and it's only Monday.
We'll see how it all pans out. I'm pretty sore tonight, so I think I'll end this here.
Ta,
Bec
10.2.08
Ireland
Here's my faithful report on my trip to Ireland, as I didn't have Internet at any point during the trip:
Blog Entry: Wednesday night/Thursday
We left Harlaxton at 6 on Wednesday night, arrived at the ferry at 2 in the morning, got on said ferry, tried to sleep for the four hours it took to cross the Irish Sea, then got back on the two coaches (which were ferried with us), went two blocks into Ireland, had a good breakfast, and got back on the bus to go to Blarney.
One thing you must know about Ireland-they have palm trees. I am so, so not kidding around here-they never have anything but rain; they never freeze, and so palm trees are a pretty common sight throughout Ireland.
That said, I did get a picture of one...
We went to Blarney Castle; basically a ruin. The stairs inside were narrow, wet, slippery, and misshapen. And uneven. I spent the entire time terrified that one slip would cause a domino effect on the people behind me. They also went on forever. The rooms were small and cramped and the floors were really uneven; several of us almost fell down because we weren’t watching where our feet were going.
At the top of all of this was the Blarney Stone. Yes, I kissed it. Almost went on my head down to the ground (I did see it at one point as I leaned over) but I did kiss it. So ha.
Laura, Bethany, and I went and drank tea in the teashop down the road (I had an Irish scone! Good stuff!) and then we went on to Killarney.
As would be expected, there were two hotels. As we suspected (and still can’t sort out why) the light switch for the bathroom in these hotels is on the outside of the room, meaning that if someone were in there with the door shut and you wanted vengeance it would be sickeningly easy to just FLICK the light off and leave them naked in the dark.
I suspect this was invented by nasty people who do such nasty things, but I can’t be sure.
We went to an Italian restaurant and got pizza. It was considerably cheaper than getting separate meals for everyone, and it was good, too.
Blog Entry: Friday
We did the Ring of Kerry today. Lots of stuff we saw; saw a mountain range that we approached yesterday known as the Mcgillicuddy Reeks.
Saw the Kerry Bog Village, where I thought the peat burning was pretty awful-smelling, but since Laura couldn’t finish her Irish coffee, I did. It was pretty good-I’ve never had whiskey before, so that was new.
We then went to Dingle Bay-really lovely views there. Got great photos.
Went to Waterville, where I walked on a purple beach, dipped my bare feet into the Irish side of the Atlantic (COLD!), picked up a couple of shells, got a picture of Charlie Chaplin’s statue, and got sprayed in the face with temperamental Irish weather.
On to Sneem, where I basically bought a lot of souvenirs for everybody, including me. I bought a necklace for myself that Bethany says has a real stone in it, and she thinks it’s either jade or jasper (her dad used to be a jeweler.) It’s gold plated and has this round sea-green stone in it, which has the gold come down over the top and twist into a Celtic knot right over it. I love it a lot; the green actually matches the color of the Irish Sea. Here's a picture:
Went next to Ladies View, where I got some amazing shots of lakes in a valley way, way below me, and then we went to the waterfall, where we almost left some people behind. The waterfall was a series of rapids that went on for about a quarter-mile down the trail; we were walking backwards to the flow of the water, so we encountered little rapids first and came to the big waterfall at the end of the trail.
We went out to a pub in Killarney and I, true to form, got a Coke. We heard real, honest-to-God Irish music. It was really great.
Blog Entry: Saturday
We’re traveling most of this day from Killarney to Dublin; we’ll get about three hours to see Dublin’s sights before A) everything closes or B) the sun goes down.
Decisions have been made between Bethany, Laura, Erin, and I, and the Book of Kells is going to get our first look; if we get to anything else tonight it’ll be a miracle (maybe we should go see the cathedral first and get one?)
Anyway, I bought another nice thing for Mom today, and a bottle of Irish herbal rub for my hands. They’re still a little sore; not as bad as yesterday but not as good as last week.
And for those who are asking, yes, the grass is very, very green here, and the mountains are really something. In the more mountainous areas, there are entire fields full of rocks and stones. The land there appears to only be good for sheep and cow farming; you couldn’t even hope to grow crops there with all those rocks in the ground.
We should be in Dublin soon; at least in the next couple of hours.
Ta,
Bec
Blog Entry: Sunday
We didn’t get much time in Dublin-most everything closed up at 5 and we got there at 3 thanks to road work and the resulting traffic jam. Saw the Book(S) of Kells (8th century Bibles and several other books) and it was really lovely; the colors were very vivid. We also saw a library upstairs that was very old (I geeked out) and some lovely bird drawings from the 1830’s.
After a slight disagreement concerning dinner, Bethany and I went to an Indian restaurant. I finally figured out the name of the flatbread I had at Sant’s house last year, and I ate some pretty good curry, had some tea, and a nice conversation.
This morning we got up sickeningly early. As I was lying in bed rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I yelped. Turns out the right hand is not as good as I thought it was, and even on what I consider to be pretty high doses of painkillers, all this typing is really, really hurting me. I’m noting the right wrist is looking a lot bigger than the left at the moment-this I consider a problem. I have skinny wrists-a little swelling goes a long way.
After four hours on the ferry, we got on the bus and traveled to “I’m Not Even Going To Try To Pronounce or Spell it-Ville," but I will cut and paste its name here.
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch
It MEANS: "St. Mary's Church in the hollow of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio near the red cave."
It isn’t the longest town name in the world (Thailand’s got a longer one, apparently) but it was long enough for me to get a headache trying to take a picture of the bloody sign that had the name on it. I couldn’t seem to get both ends in the picture, and after 7 or 8 tries I finally got it right.
We were only there a little while, and then we came back here. I am distancing myself from everyone, trying to get a little peace and quiet after 5 days of being smashed in a bus with other 30 human beings. I love my friends; I love traveling, but hey, even I need a break!
I’m pretty tired tonight but I will write more tomorrow when I am able. My arm is still kind of sore and I’m debating going to the nurse tomorrow because (hee) I’m worrying a tad about it.
Ta,
Bec
Blog Entry: Wednesday night/Thursday
We left Harlaxton at 6 on Wednesday night, arrived at the ferry at 2 in the morning, got on said ferry, tried to sleep for the four hours it took to cross the Irish Sea, then got back on the two coaches (which were ferried with us), went two blocks into Ireland, had a good breakfast, and got back on the bus to go to Blarney.
One thing you must know about Ireland-they have palm trees. I am so, so not kidding around here-they never have anything but rain; they never freeze, and so palm trees are a pretty common sight throughout Ireland.
That said, I did get a picture of one...
We went to Blarney Castle; basically a ruin. The stairs inside were narrow, wet, slippery, and misshapen. And uneven. I spent the entire time terrified that one slip would cause a domino effect on the people behind me. They also went on forever. The rooms were small and cramped and the floors were really uneven; several of us almost fell down because we weren’t watching where our feet were going.
At the top of all of this was the Blarney Stone. Yes, I kissed it. Almost went on my head down to the ground (I did see it at one point as I leaned over) but I did kiss it. So ha.
Laura, Bethany, and I went and drank tea in the teashop down the road (I had an Irish scone! Good stuff!) and then we went on to Killarney.
As would be expected, there were two hotels. As we suspected (and still can’t sort out why) the light switch for the bathroom in these hotels is on the outside of the room, meaning that if someone were in there with the door shut and you wanted vengeance it would be sickeningly easy to just FLICK the light off and leave them naked in the dark.
I suspect this was invented by nasty people who do such nasty things, but I can’t be sure.
We went to an Italian restaurant and got pizza. It was considerably cheaper than getting separate meals for everyone, and it was good, too.
Blog Entry: Friday
We did the Ring of Kerry today. Lots of stuff we saw; saw a mountain range that we approached yesterday known as the Mcgillicuddy Reeks.
Saw the Kerry Bog Village, where I thought the peat burning was pretty awful-smelling, but since Laura couldn’t finish her Irish coffee, I did. It was pretty good-I’ve never had whiskey before, so that was new.
We then went to Dingle Bay-really lovely views there. Got great photos.
Went to Waterville, where I walked on a purple beach, dipped my bare feet into the Irish side of the Atlantic (COLD!), picked up a couple of shells, got a picture of Charlie Chaplin’s statue, and got sprayed in the face with temperamental Irish weather.
On to Sneem, where I basically bought a lot of souvenirs for everybody, including me. I bought a necklace for myself that Bethany says has a real stone in it, and she thinks it’s either jade or jasper (her dad used to be a jeweler.) It’s gold plated and has this round sea-green stone in it, which has the gold come down over the top and twist into a Celtic knot right over it. I love it a lot; the green actually matches the color of the Irish Sea. Here's a picture:
Went next to Ladies View, where I got some amazing shots of lakes in a valley way, way below me, and then we went to the waterfall, where we almost left some people behind. The waterfall was a series of rapids that went on for about a quarter-mile down the trail; we were walking backwards to the flow of the water, so we encountered little rapids first and came to the big waterfall at the end of the trail.
We went out to a pub in Killarney and I, true to form, got a Coke. We heard real, honest-to-God Irish music. It was really great.
Blog Entry: Saturday
We’re traveling most of this day from Killarney to Dublin; we’ll get about three hours to see Dublin’s sights before A) everything closes or B) the sun goes down.
Decisions have been made between Bethany, Laura, Erin, and I, and the Book of Kells is going to get our first look; if we get to anything else tonight it’ll be a miracle (maybe we should go see the cathedral first and get one?)
Anyway, I bought another nice thing for Mom today, and a bottle of Irish herbal rub for my hands. They’re still a little sore; not as bad as yesterday but not as good as last week.
And for those who are asking, yes, the grass is very, very green here, and the mountains are really something. In the more mountainous areas, there are entire fields full of rocks and stones. The land there appears to only be good for sheep and cow farming; you couldn’t even hope to grow crops there with all those rocks in the ground.
We should be in Dublin soon; at least in the next couple of hours.
Ta,
Bec
Blog Entry: Sunday
We didn’t get much time in Dublin-most everything closed up at 5 and we got there at 3 thanks to road work and the resulting traffic jam. Saw the Book(S) of Kells (8th century Bibles and several other books) and it was really lovely; the colors were very vivid. We also saw a library upstairs that was very old (I geeked out) and some lovely bird drawings from the 1830’s.
After a slight disagreement concerning dinner, Bethany and I went to an Indian restaurant. I finally figured out the name of the flatbread I had at Sant’s house last year, and I ate some pretty good curry, had some tea, and a nice conversation.
This morning we got up sickeningly early. As I was lying in bed rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I yelped. Turns out the right hand is not as good as I thought it was, and even on what I consider to be pretty high doses of painkillers, all this typing is really, really hurting me. I’m noting the right wrist is looking a lot bigger than the left at the moment-this I consider a problem. I have skinny wrists-a little swelling goes a long way.
After four hours on the ferry, we got on the bus and traveled to “I’m Not Even Going To Try To Pronounce or Spell it-Ville," but I will cut and paste its name here.
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch
It MEANS: "St. Mary's Church in the hollow of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio near the red cave."
It isn’t the longest town name in the world (Thailand’s got a longer one, apparently) but it was long enough for me to get a headache trying to take a picture of the bloody sign that had the name on it. I couldn’t seem to get both ends in the picture, and after 7 or 8 tries I finally got it right.
We were only there a little while, and then we came back here. I am distancing myself from everyone, trying to get a little peace and quiet after 5 days of being smashed in a bus with other 30 human beings. I love my friends; I love traveling, but hey, even I need a break!
I’m pretty tired tonight but I will write more tomorrow when I am able. My arm is still kind of sore and I’m debating going to the nurse tomorrow because (hee) I’m worrying a tad about it.
Ta,
Bec
6.2.08
Elbow Grease
This may very well be my last posting this week, thanks to the Ireland trip and the high possibility that I won't have wireless in either Killarney or Dublin. No matter-I will write down everything I can and relay it all to you either Sunday night or Monday morning.
That said, yeah, about the elbow grease. I need some. Maybe it would make my elbow feel better; I don't know. All I know is I have been on painkillers since I got up this morning and I am wondering if I can make it through this exam today without threat of tears. I hope not. It hurts, but just to the point of annoying. Really annoying.
Currently listening to Jeff Buckley. For those who don't know, he was a singer in the 1990's who basically wrote one really amazing album, got started on a second, and died before he was able to finish it. His music has pretty much influenced every artist that came after him; his stuff is brilliant. I really like what I've heard so far.
I got into him because Brandon Boyd, lead singer of Incubus, calls him his favorite singer, and Matt Bellamy went to see him at Reading 1994 and said he listens to him a lot. These two guys are my favorite singers; so I thought that listening to their favorite singer was probably a good idea. Turns out it was.
Got an exam in an hour-joyous. I am really, really not ready for this thing...
Cheers. I will talk to you as soon as I can again.
Bec
That said, yeah, about the elbow grease. I need some. Maybe it would make my elbow feel better; I don't know. All I know is I have been on painkillers since I got up this morning and I am wondering if I can make it through this exam today without threat of tears. I hope not. It hurts, but just to the point of annoying. Really annoying.
Currently listening to Jeff Buckley. For those who don't know, he was a singer in the 1990's who basically wrote one really amazing album, got started on a second, and died before he was able to finish it. His music has pretty much influenced every artist that came after him; his stuff is brilliant. I really like what I've heard so far.
I got into him because Brandon Boyd, lead singer of Incubus, calls him his favorite singer, and Matt Bellamy went to see him at Reading 1994 and said he listens to him a lot. These two guys are my favorite singers; so I thought that listening to their favorite singer was probably a good idea. Turns out it was.
Got an exam in an hour-joyous. I am really, really not ready for this thing...
Cheers. I will talk to you as soon as I can again.
Bec
5.2.08
Hi!
There was no news yesterday. None. It's supposed to come TODAY now; I'm getting impatient. I want to be right for once and they're just holding off on me.
My new fanfic is getting lots of reads over on the Doctor Who fanfic site I post to. I'm glad-I wrote that one so fast I was worried the quality had suffered.
Ireland trip begins tomorrow night, so I will post before leaving here. I will have my laptop but no one knows if wireless will be available. We'll see...
Watched four episodes of Stargate last night. I'd forgotten what a joy that little pastime used to be, but getting the DVD's here would be a pain because we're in the wrong region (it'd be an import here, and those cost more because of taxes and such.) Mom, if you're reading this, BIRTHDAY PRESENT. Please. If you pay for half I'll pay for half. I can't stand this 'not owning the DVD's' thing. I need them like air...
Not much else going on-sounds like it rained last night because the cars driving by are splashing.
I will let you know that I was right as soon as they let ME know I was right.
So, cheers to you all. I will update this later today when the news comes in from Stargate-dom.
UPDATE: I WAS WRONG. A person I never even considered has gotten the job of Atlantis commander, mostly because I thought that the characters would kick him into next week when he tried to stand up to them (go, Ronon, go). Woolsey has become the leader of Atlantis-let the snarling fights between him and Sheppard and Ronon begin...
For those not in the know, Woolsey is getting better, but is still a jerk who doesn't always understand that the regular space travelers know more than he does (hint: Who knows more about the Wraith-the guy who faces them once or twice a week or the guy who's never SEEN one?) And he's from the oversight guys who are trying to run Atlantis, so stupid projects that would never work are probably coming down the line for the Atlantis team.
It's going to be a hellish year on certain people's patience, that much I can say.
Cheers,
Bec
My new fanfic is getting lots of reads over on the Doctor Who fanfic site I post to. I'm glad-I wrote that one so fast I was worried the quality had suffered.
Ireland trip begins tomorrow night, so I will post before leaving here. I will have my laptop but no one knows if wireless will be available. We'll see...
Watched four episodes of Stargate last night. I'd forgotten what a joy that little pastime used to be, but getting the DVD's here would be a pain because we're in the wrong region (it'd be an import here, and those cost more because of taxes and such.) Mom, if you're reading this, BIRTHDAY PRESENT. Please. If you pay for half I'll pay for half. I can't stand this 'not owning the DVD's' thing. I need them like air...
Not much else going on-sounds like it rained last night because the cars driving by are splashing.
I will let you know that I was right as soon as they let ME know I was right.
So, cheers to you all. I will update this later today when the news comes in from Stargate-dom.
UPDATE: I WAS WRONG. A person I never even considered has gotten the job of Atlantis commander, mostly because I thought that the characters would kick him into next week when he tried to stand up to them (go, Ronon, go). Woolsey has become the leader of Atlantis-let the snarling fights between him and Sheppard and Ronon begin...
For those not in the know, Woolsey is getting better, but is still a jerk who doesn't always understand that the regular space travelers know more than he does (hint: Who knows more about the Wraith-the guy who faces them once or twice a week or the guy who's never SEEN one?) And he's from the oversight guys who are trying to run Atlantis, so stupid projects that would never work are probably coming down the line for the Atlantis team.
It's going to be a hellish year on certain people's patience, that much I can say.
Cheers,
Bec
3.2.08
Sunday
Not much going on around here today. I watched a Muse concert (Reading '06-it's a beauty of a performance) and got thoroughly hepped up when Matt Bellamy went down on his knees with the guitar, as if I hadn't seen the concert three times already. Sheesh. Some days I worry myself about myself...
But you have to admit, that IS a pretty sweet move when it's done right (I've seen clips of him overbalance and have to push himself back up with his head because his hands were still busy playing the guitar. Which just makes me admire the man all the more.)
Anyway, I did get some homework done today; I think I'm set for tomorrow.
Everything is sort of twinging tonight so I think this entry's going to be frightfully short. I'm already on quite a bit of ibuprofen so that I can sleep tonight, because the thing that comes foremost to your mind when you're attempting to get comfortable is, "Damn, I hurt." This doesn't help you sleep in the slightest; it's just useless information that you were already perfectly aware of and didn't need reminding of, because in reminding you about what you were trying to forget, the pain, however annoying, gets more so when you are trying to ignore it.
Round and round we go, until you get out of the bed and placate the beast with enough ibuprofen to knock the pain out of the way so you can sleep so you don't hurt like hell tomorrow.
And now my hands are hating me. Sorry for all the whining again.
Cheers,
Bec
But you have to admit, that IS a pretty sweet move when it's done right (I've seen clips of him overbalance and have to push himself back up with his head because his hands were still busy playing the guitar. Which just makes me admire the man all the more.)
Anyway, I did get some homework done today; I think I'm set for tomorrow.
Everything is sort of twinging tonight so I think this entry's going to be frightfully short. I'm already on quite a bit of ibuprofen so that I can sleep tonight, because the thing that comes foremost to your mind when you're attempting to get comfortable is, "Damn, I hurt." This doesn't help you sleep in the slightest; it's just useless information that you were already perfectly aware of and didn't need reminding of, because in reminding you about what you were trying to forget, the pain, however annoying, gets more so when you are trying to ignore it.
Round and round we go, until you get out of the bed and placate the beast with enough ibuprofen to knock the pain out of the way so you can sleep so you don't hurt like hell tomorrow.
And now my hands are hating me. Sorry for all the whining again.
Cheers,
Bec
2.2.08
Well...
Today was not a day where I did anything important, except this: through various sources and connections I have, I managed to wrangle an early edition of the new Stargate movie due out on DVD next month. Let me just say, without throwing spoilers, this puppy is pretty darn good. It ties things up with a very neat red bow, just the way Stargate always does.
I would tell you, but if I did someone might kill me.
And here and now I make a prediction: Through logic, deduction, and a good wracking of my poor brain, Colonel Caldwell is going to be the new leader of Atlantis in the fifth season. This I predict. We'll see if I'm right on Monday afternoon.
At this point, I'm 95% certain I'm right because they said whoever's taking Atlantis' helm from Carter is:
a recurring cast member, now becoming a regular.
Someone who was on the short list last year to become leader of Atlantis.
Which means it's someone we know, who was on the roster already to become Atlantis' boss and lost out to Carter.
2nd in command on Atlantis is Shep, and 3rd is...Caldwell. Shep doesn't want the job (he said as much last year when Carter came in); and since he's already a regular, he isn't going to get it, either. None of the SG-1 members are going to get it. None of the current Atlantis members are going to get it. And they're hiring an actress to play a new military character...bingo. She's got Daedalus, the lucky girl...Caldwell's getting Atlantis at last.
It's not Weir and it's not Beckett because at the beginning of last season they were either in limbo or dead.
Tomorrow looks to be shaping up to be exactly like today. Waiting for Monday. I so want to sit there and tell everyone I was right on this one...
Cheers,
Bec
I would tell you, but if I did someone might kill me.
And here and now I make a prediction: Through logic, deduction, and a good wracking of my poor brain, Colonel Caldwell is going to be the new leader of Atlantis in the fifth season. This I predict. We'll see if I'm right on Monday afternoon.
At this point, I'm 95% certain I'm right because they said whoever's taking Atlantis' helm from Carter is:
a recurring cast member, now becoming a regular.
Someone who was on the short list last year to become leader of Atlantis.
Which means it's someone we know, who was on the roster already to become Atlantis' boss and lost out to Carter.
2nd in command on Atlantis is Shep, and 3rd is...Caldwell. Shep doesn't want the job (he said as much last year when Carter came in); and since he's already a regular, he isn't going to get it, either. None of the SG-1 members are going to get it. None of the current Atlantis members are going to get it. And they're hiring an actress to play a new military character...bingo. She's got Daedalus, the lucky girl...Caldwell's getting Atlantis at last.
It's not Weir and it's not Beckett because at the beginning of last season they were either in limbo or dead.
Tomorrow looks to be shaping up to be exactly like today. Waiting for Monday. I so want to sit there and tell everyone I was right on this one...
Cheers,
Bec
1.2.08
Friday Classes
We had class today; a rarity around here. We were making up for Wednesday of next week when half of us go to Ireland, some of us go other places, and some of us stay here.
I will be going to Ireland; I may have wireless, I may not. It remains to be seen.
Due to massive infighting in Celtic Anthrax today, my whole night has been spent *gasp* catching up on homework. I have figured out that Richard III really, really, REALLY needs a good timeout with his mother. Possibly even a spanking could be arranged. The man actually sits there on his horse and disrespects the woman (she's kind of asking him why, by his subtle design, he had killed every male member of the family and one female).
He basically tells her to shut up and go away and stop nagging him.
This has me thinking to myself that if any other really nasty person in history, say, Attila the Hun, had been in the same position he would at least have bowed down, kissed her hand, and said, "Mummy, I've been bad. I suck. But forgive me?"
It just proves to everyone what a bastard he really is when he can look at his own mother and tell her to shut up, especially after killing brothers and cousins and nephews and God knows who else. The man either is heartless or he has a hell of a lot of nerve. Probably both.
Rich gets cut down in battle anyway, so he gets punished for his crimes against...well, everyone, but I kept thinking the man deserved it merely because his mother was trying to make him confess and the humpbacked idiot sat there and ignored her pleas.
And now it appears I should be getting to bed, as it IS nearly midnight. Talk to y'all tomorrow.
Cheers,
Bec
I will be going to Ireland; I may have wireless, I may not. It remains to be seen.
Due to massive infighting in Celtic Anthrax today, my whole night has been spent *gasp* catching up on homework. I have figured out that Richard III really, really, REALLY needs a good timeout with his mother. Possibly even a spanking could be arranged. The man actually sits there on his horse and disrespects the woman (she's kind of asking him why, by his subtle design, he had killed every male member of the family and one female).
He basically tells her to shut up and go away and stop nagging him.
This has me thinking to myself that if any other really nasty person in history, say, Attila the Hun, had been in the same position he would at least have bowed down, kissed her hand, and said, "Mummy, I've been bad. I suck. But forgive me?"
It just proves to everyone what a bastard he really is when he can look at his own mother and tell her to shut up, especially after killing brothers and cousins and nephews and God knows who else. The man either is heartless or he has a hell of a lot of nerve. Probably both.
Rich gets cut down in battle anyway, so he gets punished for his crimes against...well, everyone, but I kept thinking the man deserved it merely because his mother was trying to make him confess and the humpbacked idiot sat there and ignored her pleas.
And now it appears I should be getting to bed, as it IS nearly midnight. Talk to y'all tomorrow.
Cheers,
Bec
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