Things I miss about America:
- family and friends... duh.
- my bed
- REAL Mexican food
- ketchup
- ranch dressing
- the dollar
- seat protectors in public bathrooms
- 8.5 x 11 printer paper
- drinking fountains
- driving
- hockey
- my pets
- American units of measurement
- iced tea
- Hershey's chocolate that tastes like it's supposed to
- Pandora
- Hulu
- Kix
- familiarity
- being involved in theatre
- Disney movies
- Costco
- Target
- the California atmosphere
- drivers on the right side of the road
- the overarching lack of pretension
- having a cell phone that wasn't originally manufactured in 2003
- Goldfish crackers
- Top Ramen
- artificially orange mac n' cheese, straight from the box
- In N Out
- Pacific Standard Time
- understanding cultural references
- American slang/vocabulary
- flip flop weather
Things I'm going to miss about Oxford:
EVERYTHING.
But more specifically...
- my cell group
- St. Aldate's church
- British accents
- the Oxford fashion
- walking
- 222 and 224 Abingdon
- the Bodleian
- the covered market
- knowing that there's always somewhere new to explore within walking distance
- being intellectually challenged
- reading voraciously
- having time
- not operating at a break neck pace
- going to pubs
- G&Ds ice cream
- tripping on the cobble stone paths everyday
- multitudes of cafes, all with excellent tea and coffee
- Tesco
- the overwhelming amount of history and antiquity
- the architecture
- my skylight
- having silent, gesticulative conversations across kitchens with whoever is in 224
- the evil swans and geese
- Big Issues
- the fact that London is only a £1 bus ride away
- Bangers and Mash
- Digestives
- £2 meal deals
- ridiculous house parties well into the wee hours, regardless of the day of the week
- copious alone time
- being constantly pushed outside of my comfort zone
- how much more soft spoken the general populace is
- meeting new people
- Olive's sandwiches
- the constant flow of events/speakers/lectures/plays/concerts/etc.
- the culture of conversation
- condoned/encouraged jaywalking
- the ease and opportunity of travel
That's all I've got for now. I know there's more belonging in each category, as well as sizable lists of things I don't/won't miss about each place. But there it is. I think it's funny that a large portion of the things I miss from America are food items. I shall feast upon my return.
Grace and peace.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
One month.
That's how long I have until I fly back to the States. This fact has been sinking in, and I've frantically begun to wring every droplet out of Oxford that I can muscle. I'm taking the extra time to explore a nook of the city centre that I had neglected thus far, I'll take my camera out and snap a few discreet shots of the sights that I pass everyday. But I still have time for that. Oxford is not going anywhere in the next four weeks. The buildings will be just as majestic, the cobble stone paths just as precarious, the city centre just as bustling. The faces with which I have grown familiar are disappearing, though. I will continue to briskly walk my familiar routes, but no longer with the chance of crossing paths with a friendly face, from which would issue an American or British accent. Both are leaving. The Hilary term ends this week and the Oxford student population is dispersing, natives to their homes and visitors to their travels. With the end of the week comes the onslaught of goodbyes, perhaps forever. Hence my desperation. Oxford, albeit brimming with historical value, quaint antiquity, and unique beauty, is only a city, and a city is only as precious as its inhabitants. And the inhabitants that I hold dear are moving on. They were never meant to become permanent fixtures, but I can't help but desperately wish that my snapshots could hold more than just an image of them. So yes, I still have a month left. At the end of this week I will be leaving Oxford to travel, and I'll return to Oxford when those travels are finished. But I know that much of the hold that this place has on me will dissipate in my time away. So I'm grasping and scraping and treasuring and pondering.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Told you so
Don't say I didn't tell you that I would neglect this... because I did. Sowwy. I have been wretchedly busy with school work. It is the beginning of the 6th week of term (out of eight), so it's been just a tad hectic.
I'm at a point right now where I am pretty equally torn between looking forward to returning to California in April, and wanting to stay here forever. :) The wonder and awe of being here has worn off enough that I can feel the dull ache of missing the familiarity of home and all of the people I love that look forward to my return. But there are so many wonderful things and people here that I have become involved with and have come to love, and I know that I won't be able to see those involvements and friendships through to their full potential... and that also makes my heart ache. One of the most precious things that I have found here in Oxford is the small group that I'm involved with at St. Aldate's, the church I attend. I meet with these wonderful, uplifting, godly people once a week in Bible study and prayer, and then I generally see them at other church events twice more throughout the week. My time with them is invaluable and I cherish each one of them. God brought me to them, no doubt about it. One of the girls, Claire, actually just got baptized tonight! :) It was beautiful, and I'm so glad that I got to share in witnessing it. Another thing that I don't want to leave here is my upcoming involvement in a group of artistic, creative people that want to get together and create art through the Spirit. Dom, the guy that's organizing it, announced his idea for the group a few weeks back at church, and the idea resounded in me. I always try to dedicate my creative acts and works to God, but the idea of fellowship in the Spirit and art sounds amazing. We're meeting for the first time this week, and we may only meet every other week. If that's the case, that means I'm only going to meet up with this group four times. :( What a tease! It pains me that I cannot stay here to see these relationships and projects and growths come to fruition. *sigh*
On a much more superficial note, I went on a blind date two nights ago. XD It was a University sponsored event that you could sign up for, and they'd pair you with someone. When I got the notification for it in my email newsletter I thought, why not? I figured, how often do I have the chance to go on a blind date with a foreign guy in a foreign country? And if it turns out to be awful, I'm flying away in a couple months, ne'er to see him again. So I signed up for it, lol. The guy's name was Max, and he is studying PPE (philosophy/politics/economics). He actually isn't British, but German, and very cute. Beautiful brown eyes and not afraid of eye contact = yesplz, kthnxbye. I'm pretty sure they paired us up because I put on the little form that I had to fill out that I was studying Theatre, and one of the hobbies he wrote on his form was directing for theater, so that was really cool. Yay theater peeps! We met at a local ice cream shop and talked for 2+ hours about theater, politics, Christianity, the church, California, Germany, homosexuality, Oxford, travelling, art, and everything in between. It was surprisingly pleasant and not awkward. So yeah. Another thing to cross off the bucket list there. And for those of you romantics out there wondering if we fell in love and plan on seeing each other again, we didn't and we probably won't. It was just a pleasant evening getting to know an interesting new person with a fresh perspective on life, and nothing more. ;)
I've got to be off now. Time to make a presentation.
Future events to keep a sharp eye out for on facebook, Twitter, and here: day trip to Bath & the Cotswolds, Ne-Yo at the Union Society, day trip to London for my final art tutorial in the Tate Modern (!!!), finishing of the Hilary term, travel break to Scotland, Ireland, and Wales, and returning to Oxford for another three weeks of studies. :)
Until next time.
Grace and peace.
I'm at a point right now where I am pretty equally torn between looking forward to returning to California in April, and wanting to stay here forever. :) The wonder and awe of being here has worn off enough that I can feel the dull ache of missing the familiarity of home and all of the people I love that look forward to my return. But there are so many wonderful things and people here that I have become involved with and have come to love, and I know that I won't be able to see those involvements and friendships through to their full potential... and that also makes my heart ache. One of the most precious things that I have found here in Oxford is the small group that I'm involved with at St. Aldate's, the church I attend. I meet with these wonderful, uplifting, godly people once a week in Bible study and prayer, and then I generally see them at other church events twice more throughout the week. My time with them is invaluable and I cherish each one of them. God brought me to them, no doubt about it. One of the girls, Claire, actually just got baptized tonight! :) It was beautiful, and I'm so glad that I got to share in witnessing it. Another thing that I don't want to leave here is my upcoming involvement in a group of artistic, creative people that want to get together and create art through the Spirit. Dom, the guy that's organizing it, announced his idea for the group a few weeks back at church, and the idea resounded in me. I always try to dedicate my creative acts and works to God, but the idea of fellowship in the Spirit and art sounds amazing. We're meeting for the first time this week, and we may only meet every other week. If that's the case, that means I'm only going to meet up with this group four times. :( What a tease! It pains me that I cannot stay here to see these relationships and projects and growths come to fruition. *sigh*
On a much more superficial note, I went on a blind date two nights ago. XD It was a University sponsored event that you could sign up for, and they'd pair you with someone. When I got the notification for it in my email newsletter I thought, why not? I figured, how often do I have the chance to go on a blind date with a foreign guy in a foreign country? And if it turns out to be awful, I'm flying away in a couple months, ne'er to see him again. So I signed up for it, lol. The guy's name was Max, and he is studying PPE (philosophy/politics/economics). He actually isn't British, but German, and very cute. Beautiful brown eyes and not afraid of eye contact = yesplz, kthnxbye. I'm pretty sure they paired us up because I put on the little form that I had to fill out that I was studying Theatre, and one of the hobbies he wrote on his form was directing for theater, so that was really cool. Yay theater peeps! We met at a local ice cream shop and talked for 2+ hours about theater, politics, Christianity, the church, California, Germany, homosexuality, Oxford, travelling, art, and everything in between. It was surprisingly pleasant and not awkward. So yeah. Another thing to cross off the bucket list there. And for those of you romantics out there wondering if we fell in love and plan on seeing each other again, we didn't and we probably won't. It was just a pleasant evening getting to know an interesting new person with a fresh perspective on life, and nothing more. ;)
I've got to be off now. Time to make a presentation.
Future events to keep a sharp eye out for on facebook, Twitter, and here: day trip to Bath & the Cotswolds, Ne-Yo at the Union Society, day trip to London for my final art tutorial in the Tate Modern (!!!), finishing of the Hilary term, travel break to Scotland, Ireland, and Wales, and returning to Oxford for another three weeks of studies. :)
Until next time.
Grace and peace.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
YOU SHALL NOT PASS
I was going to start this post with some creative narrative that has been brewing in my subconscious, but my brain has been wiped of all other thoughts than the FREAKING DELICIOUS ORANGE CHOCOLATE FUDGE I AM EATING RIGHT NOW. I got it from a little shop called Fudge Kitchen that makes unique fudge flavors and sells them by the slab. Their tagline is "devilishly different". This is an exquisitely decadent orange chocolate DREAM. Om nom freaking nom. The fact that I'm simultaneously listening to the sultry sounds of Robin Thicke doesn't help my concentration level either. I am just completely distracted by indulgence at the moment. However, I shall endeavor to unscramble my thoughts.
This morning I woke with a promise in my heart of getting to meet/listen to/be in the same room with Sir Ian McKellan. He was the guest speaker at the Oxford Union Society this evening, and I am a member of the Union Society. So although I was extremely sleepy and faced with the prospect of having to finish another paper, I kept calm and carried on as Ian would want me to, I'm sure. After an entire day in the Bod, I finished my paper (whew) and started reading the next play on my docket. Before heading over to the Union Society, I went to a meeting for the small group that I've gotten plugged into through my church. This was only my second week there, but I love it. God has been so faithful and blessed me immensely by surrounding me with people that are seeking after Him with fervor. Tonight we listened to a sermon about the Kingdom of God, and what it means to be able to accept it as a child would. It was a wonderful time of fellowship. I bailed a little bit early with Andrew and one of my new British friends Fez, so that we could get to the Union early. As we approached the gate, droves of people were walking in the opposite direction and I thought I heard somebody say, "It's full,". And lo and behold, it was full. I tried not to get there wretchedly early because I thought it would be uncouth and very American of me, and what did I get in return? No Ian. :( As we were walking away, I'm fairly sure that I described my current state of mind to Fez as "incredibly depressed". He thought that was a bit over dramatic. I explained that I'm a theatre major, so that happens sometimes. But even though the distinct lack of Sir Ian McKellan in my life sicklied o'er my native hue of joy (Hamlet reference! Anyone?), the evening turned out to be quite a lovely and enjoyable time. Andrew, Fez, and I pub hopped with some of my neighbors from 224 Abingdon, and we had a wonderful time of talking and laughing. :) It was definitely one of my favorite nights that I've had in Oxford thus far (which is saying a lot considering I would get a wave of disappointment every so often because Ian was talking so close by and I couldn't hear his epic voice). Most ridiculous moment of the night: at one of the pubs, I went to the bathroom and got trapped in the stall. Yes, I got trapped in a bathroom stall. It figures, right? And you're probably thinking, "Deanna. Why didn't you just crawl out from underneath?". Well let me tell you, mister or miss high and mighty reader, that I could not crawl out from underneath because the stall door was an actual wooden door that reached the floor. My only chance of getting underneath the door would have been to become a liquid. And let me also tell you, o ye of little faith, that the walls and doors of the stalls were very tall. There was only about a foot and a half of open space between the top of the partitioning walls and the ceiling. But somehow, God only knows how, I managed to step on the (very short) toilet, scale the utterly smooth wall, hoist myself over the wall into the neighboring stall, and fall onto my feet. I managed to leave this ridiculous situation with only one bruise/welt and an absurd story. I would say that it was worth it.
Bullet points of noteworthy happenings from the last week:
- God is awesome, and completely faithful.
- My first tutorial went swimmingly.
- I didn't meet Sir Ian McKellan.
- I went to a pub and listened to a funk band. Not half bad for Brits trying to do funk.
- There's a guy that works at a coffee shop that I frequent who is a combination ginger-British-hippie-Jesus-Weird Al.
Until next time.
Grace and peace.
This morning I woke with a promise in my heart of getting to meet/listen to/be in the same room with Sir Ian McKellan. He was the guest speaker at the Oxford Union Society this evening, and I am a member of the Union Society. So although I was extremely sleepy and faced with the prospect of having to finish another paper, I kept calm and carried on as Ian would want me to, I'm sure. After an entire day in the Bod, I finished my paper (whew) and started reading the next play on my docket. Before heading over to the Union Society, I went to a meeting for the small group that I've gotten plugged into through my church. This was only my second week there, but I love it. God has been so faithful and blessed me immensely by surrounding me with people that are seeking after Him with fervor. Tonight we listened to a sermon about the Kingdom of God, and what it means to be able to accept it as a child would. It was a wonderful time of fellowship. I bailed a little bit early with Andrew and one of my new British friends Fez, so that we could get to the Union early. As we approached the gate, droves of people were walking in the opposite direction and I thought I heard somebody say, "It's full,". And lo and behold, it was full. I tried not to get there wretchedly early because I thought it would be uncouth and very American of me, and what did I get in return? No Ian. :( As we were walking away, I'm fairly sure that I described my current state of mind to Fez as "incredibly depressed". He thought that was a bit over dramatic. I explained that I'm a theatre major, so that happens sometimes. But even though the distinct lack of Sir Ian McKellan in my life sicklied o'er my native hue of joy (Hamlet reference! Anyone?), the evening turned out to be quite a lovely and enjoyable time. Andrew, Fez, and I pub hopped with some of my neighbors from 224 Abingdon, and we had a wonderful time of talking and laughing. :) It was definitely one of my favorite nights that I've had in Oxford thus far (which is saying a lot considering I would get a wave of disappointment every so often because Ian was talking so close by and I couldn't hear his epic voice). Most ridiculous moment of the night: at one of the pubs, I went to the bathroom and got trapped in the stall. Yes, I got trapped in a bathroom stall. It figures, right? And you're probably thinking, "Deanna. Why didn't you just crawl out from underneath?". Well let me tell you, mister or miss high and mighty reader, that I could not crawl out from underneath because the stall door was an actual wooden door that reached the floor. My only chance of getting underneath the door would have been to become a liquid. And let me also tell you, o ye of little faith, that the walls and doors of the stalls were very tall. There was only about a foot and a half of open space between the top of the partitioning walls and the ceiling. But somehow, God only knows how, I managed to step on the (very short) toilet, scale the utterly smooth wall, hoist myself over the wall into the neighboring stall, and fall onto my feet. I managed to leave this ridiculous situation with only one bruise/welt and an absurd story. I would say that it was worth it.
Bullet points of noteworthy happenings from the last week:
- God is awesome, and completely faithful.
- My first tutorial went swimmingly.
- I didn't meet Sir Ian McKellan.
- I went to a pub and listened to a funk band. Not half bad for Brits trying to do funk.
- There's a guy that works at a coffee shop that I frequent who is a combination ginger-British-hippie-Jesus-Weird Al.
Until next time.
Grace and peace.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Catching up
Current state of being? Freshly showered, just finished skyping with the 'rents, eating mini Cadbury Creme Eggs, sipping water, listening to a combination of obscure indie music and the downpour outside tap against my skylight, avoiding starting my first Oxford essay, eying my warm bed slyly, and reveling in God's faithfulness. And now add that the correct spelling of "eying" is weirding me out... shouldn't it be "eyeing"? Apparently not, because there is a red squiggly line showing up under the one with two e's. Fine. Eying. Sounds more like what Canadians do at the end of their sentences, but whatever. Other than my dissatisfaction with the English language, I am utterly content in this moment. Which is really what we have to take life by, isn't it? Moments. Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough worry of its own. We aren't promised another hour, let alone another day. Moments. ...and on that uncharacteristically profound note, I shall move on to the moments that I have been experiencing since I last blogged. :)
Again, everything is blurring together, so I'll just hit some highlights that stand out in my mind. On Tuesday last week, I and most of the people in my flat took a tour of the Oxford castle. Yes, castle. Boom baby, I WAS IN A CASTLE. Which actually, from the 18th century until 1996 was a prison. And now it's a hotel. Oh, irony. Regardless of the irony, it was actually quite interesting to learn the history surrounding this place. AND our tour guide was dressed in a period costume. Totes worth the £7. Quote from that day that I deemed worthy to make note of: "I would eat human. But I wouldn't eat insect. That just grosses me out." - Jason.
On Wednesday, I had a somewhat busy day. First off, I had to go to the Bodleian Library to swear my oath and get my library card. Yes, you read correctly. To get access to the Bodleian Library, you have to swear an oath to not remove any book from the premises and to not set fire to the place. The fire thing is pretty self explanatory... books = paper = flammable. But in regards to not being able to take any of the books, it's by order of Sir Thomas Bodley, the chap that we can thank for the library. But the best part of the Bod (as we locals call it) is that it's a legal deposit library. That means that ever since Tommy Bodley struck a deal with the Stationers' Company in London in 1610, a copy of every single book published in the UK gets sent to the Bod. The lady that gave us a brief rundown of the history said that currently they receive about 1,000 new books a day. Craziness, right? And I get access to every single one of 'em. :D So after hitting up the Bod for the first time, I trekked over to my college's campus for a tour from the JCR president. And at this time I have to take a timeout to explain that last sentence:
Oxford University is comprised of over 40 different colleges. When you apply to Oxford University, you get acceptance to a college. You're only in if a college wants you. The way that the university and the colleges interact is very similar to our federal and state goverments: the states (colleges) are completely their own entities with their own rules, while still remaining under the general jurisdiction of the federal government (university). This being the case, every college has its own separate campus/location/whatever you want to call it. So most of the gorgeous walled courtyards and regal buildings that you see when you look at pictures of Oxford are various colleges. One of the quickest ways to spot an Oxford tourist: "Where is the university campus?" When you walk through Oxford, the campuses are all around you.
So anywaysssss, I then got a tour of my college's grounds. I belong to St. Catherine's College, aka: St. Cat'z, or Catz. It is the youngest mixed college (I'm the baby, gotta love me), therefore I am at the one college that does NOT have epic ancient looking buildings. All the facilities are very "modern"... and by modern, I mean that they're outdated, geometric, and scream 1960's. But don't get me wrong, I am a proud St. Cat'z girl. :) I bleed... umm... *looks up college colors* plum and sky blue? ...hm. I'll have to make sure that Wikipedia isn't leading me astray. I'll get back to you on that. Moving right along, that evening Tupac hosted a welcome dinner for all of the OPUS students that were members of St. Cat'z or New College at the St. Cat'z dining hall. But this wasn't just any dinner. First of all, it was formal: cocktail dresses and tuxes, if we could manage it (I definitely managed. Holla.). Second of all, it took place at high table, which is no small matter (Google it. I'm tired of explaining the idiosyncrasies of Oxford.). Third of all, there was a pre-dinner alcohol schmoozing thing. Fourth of all, there were three wine glasses at each place setting... three wine glasses for three different types of wine. Fifth of all, we had assigned seats. Sixth of all, there were four courses. Seventh of all, I'm tired of numbering, so I'll just go back to stream of consciousness. Long story short, this was a fancy dinner. I happened to get my assigned seat across the table from Dan the Giant (my really tall flatmate) and Aimee (one of my first friends from APU), and right next to the aforementioned St. Cat'z JCR president, Aiden (kind of like a student government president, but dealing more with social things). So I got to sit next to one of the only British blokes there! :D Yay British blokes! I tried not to grill him about student activities, BUT he was in a play last semester and he is part of a painting club on the weekends. So it's definitely safe to say that I failed in my endeavor to not interrogate him. But he was very friendly and responsive... and progressively so throughout the evening, as more and more wine varieties were brought forth and consumed... but then again, so was everyone else. Heh. [Side note: It has surprised me how integral alcohol is to society here. Not necessarily getting drunk, but alcohol. Every college has it's own bar. There are probably more pubs than there are toilets. People regularly will have a beer with lunch. There is no problem with professors having students over for drinks. The way that events are advertised are by what alcohol will be served. I got an email from my JCR mailing list about a whiskey tasting event. Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol.] But the most noteworthy thing about this fancy schmancy dinner? The HOUR of toasts that happened after we finished dessert. We literally toasted each other until every single person at that table had been toasted/made a toast. All the while everyone is standing and taking a sip of port after every toast. So everyone at this table is slowly getting drunk with sip after sip of port, and anecdote after anecdote of everyone's first impressions of Oxford. It was hysterical (Yes, I had to make a toast. I was literally the last person. I thought I was going to slip by unnoticed, but Aimee toasted me. That beezy. So I made a pathetic, somewhat rambling and uninspiring toast to who knows what. Trust me, it was bad. Give me a script and I'm great. Ask me to improvise... *shakes head*). So that was definitely an experience that I will remember for years to come. :) After the dinner was over, we went pub hopping and met up with the other members of 222 and 224 Abingdon that had had their fancy dinner on Monday night. There were drunken Irish men singing very loudly in the pub that we ended up in. It was wonderful. :) (Gosh, that's a long section. Told you it was a busy day.)
Moving on to Thursday, I began by dropping of my laptop to finally be fixed (And thank the Lord, Emmett is back to his normal self and I now type to you on him (twss).). Then, after getting a bit lost, I met my primary tutor for the first time. Okay time for another timeout:
I am not taking scheduled classes with other students here at Oxford. I am instead meeting with two different tutors one-on-one, once a week. Basically, I meet with my tutor initially to figure out more specifically what we'll be studying over the term. Then I get assigned lots of reading and a 2,000 word essay to prepare for our next meeting in a week. Over the week, I read until I want to vomit, and then I write my essay. I meet with my tutor, turn in my essay, discuss it, expand beyond it, and then get assigned a massive reading list and essay for the following week. Lather, rinse, repeat. This type of studying affords for very thorough coverage of a very narrow topic. Much different than how education is approached in the States.
So yeah, I met my primary tutor, Richard Rowley, for the first time on Thursday evening. Initial impressions: 1) I got lost because we met at his flat, aka: his place of residence. It was a little odd to meet with a teacher where they live... kind of like an episode of The Twilight Zone. And, 2) He is much younger than I was expecting. I imagined some wizened old Oxford scholar, but he's probably in his early 30's. This also played into my Twilight Zone complex. But other than being slightly weirded out (by the situation, not by him... don't worry, he's not sketchy at all), he seems like a very knowledgeable and cool guy. I think that we'll have some great discussions about Shakespeare, which is what my tutorial with him is about. My first essay is about the soliloquy, specifically in Hamlet and King Richard III. Like I said, very specific and thorough studying. That evening, after my meeting with Richard, I went to the student night at a church I had attended on Sunday. I unfortunately got there a bit early, and the doors weren't open yet, so I was left alone with my awkward self not knowing what to do while everyone else who was early talked, because they knew each other. Luckily, a lovely girl named Anna had mercy on my poor, awkward personage and introduced herself. :) I absolutely loved the student night. There was delicious food, excellent worship, and a meaty sermon. AND friendly people that weren't fazed by my super quiet shyness of not knowing anyone. Success! Between the Sunday service and the student night, I have found the home church in Oxford. :) Oh, and on the way home that night, a homeless man asked me if I wanted to dance. I politely declined.
So pretty much since Thursday, I have been reading for my tutorials in various cafes and the Bod, which I really like. It's an excellent place to power through some reading in peace. After all, I don't have to worry about arsonists waltzing into the place and lighting it up like a Christmas tree.
I actually have a bit more that I could wax poetical about, but my writing abilities for the night/morning are drained. So until next time folks.
Grace and peace.
Again, everything is blurring together, so I'll just hit some highlights that stand out in my mind. On Tuesday last week, I and most of the people in my flat took a tour of the Oxford castle. Yes, castle. Boom baby, I WAS IN A CASTLE. Which actually, from the 18th century until 1996 was a prison. And now it's a hotel. Oh, irony. Regardless of the irony, it was actually quite interesting to learn the history surrounding this place. AND our tour guide was dressed in a period costume. Totes worth the £7. Quote from that day that I deemed worthy to make note of: "I would eat human. But I wouldn't eat insect. That just grosses me out." - Jason.
On Wednesday, I had a somewhat busy day. First off, I had to go to the Bodleian Library to swear my oath and get my library card. Yes, you read correctly. To get access to the Bodleian Library, you have to swear an oath to not remove any book from the premises and to not set fire to the place. The fire thing is pretty self explanatory... books = paper = flammable. But in regards to not being able to take any of the books, it's by order of Sir Thomas Bodley, the chap that we can thank for the library. But the best part of the Bod (as we locals call it) is that it's a legal deposit library. That means that ever since Tommy Bodley struck a deal with the Stationers' Company in London in 1610, a copy of every single book published in the UK gets sent to the Bod. The lady that gave us a brief rundown of the history said that currently they receive about 1,000 new books a day. Craziness, right? And I get access to every single one of 'em. :D So after hitting up the Bod for the first time, I trekked over to my college's campus for a tour from the JCR president. And at this time I have to take a timeout to explain that last sentence:
Oxford University is comprised of over 40 different colleges. When you apply to Oxford University, you get acceptance to a college. You're only in if a college wants you. The way that the university and the colleges interact is very similar to our federal and state goverments: the states (colleges) are completely their own entities with their own rules, while still remaining under the general jurisdiction of the federal government (university). This being the case, every college has its own separate campus/location/whatever you want to call it. So most of the gorgeous walled courtyards and regal buildings that you see when you look at pictures of Oxford are various colleges. One of the quickest ways to spot an Oxford tourist: "Where is the university campus?" When you walk through Oxford, the campuses are all around you.
So anywaysssss, I then got a tour of my college's grounds. I belong to St. Catherine's College, aka: St. Cat'z, or Catz. It is the youngest mixed college (I'm the baby, gotta love me), therefore I am at the one college that does NOT have epic ancient looking buildings. All the facilities are very "modern"... and by modern, I mean that they're outdated, geometric, and scream 1960's. But don't get me wrong, I am a proud St. Cat'z girl. :) I bleed... umm... *looks up college colors* plum and sky blue? ...hm. I'll have to make sure that Wikipedia isn't leading me astray. I'll get back to you on that. Moving right along, that evening Tupac hosted a welcome dinner for all of the OPUS students that were members of St. Cat'z or New College at the St. Cat'z dining hall. But this wasn't just any dinner. First of all, it was formal: cocktail dresses and tuxes, if we could manage it (I definitely managed. Holla.). Second of all, it took place at high table, which is no small matter (Google it. I'm tired of explaining the idiosyncrasies of Oxford.). Third of all, there was a pre-dinner alcohol schmoozing thing. Fourth of all, there were three wine glasses at each place setting... three wine glasses for three different types of wine. Fifth of all, we had assigned seats. Sixth of all, there were four courses. Seventh of all, I'm tired of numbering, so I'll just go back to stream of consciousness. Long story short, this was a fancy dinner. I happened to get my assigned seat across the table from Dan the Giant (my really tall flatmate) and Aimee (one of my first friends from APU), and right next to the aforementioned St. Cat'z JCR president, Aiden (kind of like a student government president, but dealing more with social things). So I got to sit next to one of the only British blokes there! :D Yay British blokes! I tried not to grill him about student activities, BUT he was in a play last semester and he is part of a painting club on the weekends. So it's definitely safe to say that I failed in my endeavor to not interrogate him. But he was very friendly and responsive... and progressively so throughout the evening, as more and more wine varieties were brought forth and consumed... but then again, so was everyone else. Heh. [Side note: It has surprised me how integral alcohol is to society here. Not necessarily getting drunk, but alcohol. Every college has it's own bar. There are probably more pubs than there are toilets. People regularly will have a beer with lunch. There is no problem with professors having students over for drinks. The way that events are advertised are by what alcohol will be served. I got an email from my JCR mailing list about a whiskey tasting event. Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol.] But the most noteworthy thing about this fancy schmancy dinner? The HOUR of toasts that happened after we finished dessert. We literally toasted each other until every single person at that table had been toasted/made a toast. All the while everyone is standing and taking a sip of port after every toast. So everyone at this table is slowly getting drunk with sip after sip of port, and anecdote after anecdote of everyone's first impressions of Oxford. It was hysterical (Yes, I had to make a toast. I was literally the last person. I thought I was going to slip by unnoticed, but Aimee toasted me. That beezy. So I made a pathetic, somewhat rambling and uninspiring toast to who knows what. Trust me, it was bad. Give me a script and I'm great. Ask me to improvise... *shakes head*). So that was definitely an experience that I will remember for years to come. :) After the dinner was over, we went pub hopping and met up with the other members of 222 and 224 Abingdon that had had their fancy dinner on Monday night. There were drunken Irish men singing very loudly in the pub that we ended up in. It was wonderful. :) (Gosh, that's a long section. Told you it was a busy day.)
Moving on to Thursday, I began by dropping of my laptop to finally be fixed (And thank the Lord, Emmett is back to his normal self and I now type to you on him (twss).). Then, after getting a bit lost, I met my primary tutor for the first time. Okay time for another timeout:
I am not taking scheduled classes with other students here at Oxford. I am instead meeting with two different tutors one-on-one, once a week. Basically, I meet with my tutor initially to figure out more specifically what we'll be studying over the term. Then I get assigned lots of reading and a 2,000 word essay to prepare for our next meeting in a week. Over the week, I read until I want to vomit, and then I write my essay. I meet with my tutor, turn in my essay, discuss it, expand beyond it, and then get assigned a massive reading list and essay for the following week. Lather, rinse, repeat. This type of studying affords for very thorough coverage of a very narrow topic. Much different than how education is approached in the States.
So yeah, I met my primary tutor, Richard Rowley, for the first time on Thursday evening. Initial impressions: 1) I got lost because we met at his flat, aka: his place of residence. It was a little odd to meet with a teacher where they live... kind of like an episode of The Twilight Zone. And, 2) He is much younger than I was expecting. I imagined some wizened old Oxford scholar, but he's probably in his early 30's. This also played into my Twilight Zone complex. But other than being slightly weirded out (by the situation, not by him... don't worry, he's not sketchy at all), he seems like a very knowledgeable and cool guy. I think that we'll have some great discussions about Shakespeare, which is what my tutorial with him is about. My first essay is about the soliloquy, specifically in Hamlet and King Richard III. Like I said, very specific and thorough studying. That evening, after my meeting with Richard, I went to the student night at a church I had attended on Sunday. I unfortunately got there a bit early, and the doors weren't open yet, so I was left alone with my awkward self not knowing what to do while everyone else who was early talked, because they knew each other. Luckily, a lovely girl named Anna had mercy on my poor, awkward personage and introduced herself. :) I absolutely loved the student night. There was delicious food, excellent worship, and a meaty sermon. AND friendly people that weren't fazed by my super quiet shyness of not knowing anyone. Success! Between the Sunday service and the student night, I have found the home church in Oxford. :) Oh, and on the way home that night, a homeless man asked me if I wanted to dance. I politely declined.
So pretty much since Thursday, I have been reading for my tutorials in various cafes and the Bod, which I really like. It's an excellent place to power through some reading in peace. After all, I don't have to worry about arsonists waltzing into the place and lighting it up like a Christmas tree.
I actually have a bit more that I could wax poetical about, but my writing abilities for the night/morning are drained. So until next time folks.
Grace and peace.
Monday, January 10, 2011
The honeymoon is over
Sorry I've been out of contact, folks. I ran into a bit of laptop problems... and when I say a bit, I mean a pretty significant and extremely obnoxious, ill timed problem. Meh.
Let's see. The day after I arrived in Oxford, I had a NINE HOUR orientation to the OPUS programme (the program that I am studying abroad through). The director is dignified Indian man named Deepak. He is now being fondly and somewhat irreverently being referred to as Tupac by myself and some others. He doesn't know. :) Tupac was the MC of the orientation day, and although he had lots of excellent information, he could have also presented it in a more compact manner. It was somewhat depressing to sit in a room for hours while watching all of the daylight hours slip away through the windows. But then again, good and vital information was had. After the orientation was over (finally), I was able to borrow a phone from the good people of OPUS that I will be utilizing for the duration of my stay in Oxford. I am 99% sure that I had an exact replica of this phone 5 or 6 years ago. It is an interesting experience to regress in technology, to say the least. Upside: it has Snake on it. Holla.
It's difficult to sort through which things have happened on which day over the weekend. Basically I've been hanging out a lot with my flatmates and the people living next door. My flat (222 Abingdon) is essentially a Siamese twin to the flat next door (224 Abingdon), and it's safe to say that the peeps over there are in the same echelon of awesomeness as the peeps over here. They are also part of the OPUS programme, so they're all Americans. Four of them go to APU: Daniel Hildebrand (deadpan humor galore... think Zak Galifianakas), Alan Stauffer (sarcastic punkass, but laughs easily and can take what he dishes out), Jonathan Monson (also extremely deadpan sarcastic whilst being friendly), and Lauren Bugg (sweet and bubbly, but holds her own amongst all the sarcasm). The other four are Maggie (outgoing, goofy, and adorable... sensible with an edge), Kate (bubbly, friendly, also adorable), Mel (a little cutie that packs a punch), and Parker (goofy, laughs easily, good sport, will tease/sarcasm you with a smile on his face). All seriously chill, fun, sarcastic people... just how I like em. :) Two nights ago Andrew and I invaded their flat for their family dinner, and last night after my flat's family dinner I made Kookie Brittle and a bunch of us hung out over at their place. Excellent times with excellent people.
Other than that, I've just been exploring and getting my bearings in Oxford. I can now confidently say that I know the majority of the main street names and major landmarks. I look forward to exploring and finding all of the back alleyways now. :) I had lunch at The Eagle and Child this weekend, the place where The Inklings used to chill. :D So cool! And the food was delicious: Bangers & Mash (Google that ish). I am also working my way through the cafes of Oxford. It's my personal goal to try every one of them before I leave... we'll see how that goes. There are TONS. A group of us also hit up the Ashmolean this weekend. The Ashmolean is one of Oxford's free museums, and what I saw of it was gorgeous. Someone gave me this advice: "When you go to the Ashmolean, sample it. Go in and look at a room, leave, have a coffee, and come back the next day. Don't give yourself cultural indigestion." Better advice could not have been given. We only looked at two rooms, and that was plenty to take in... there were just so many beautiful artifacts. Even the simplest utensil or weapon reflected gorgeous craftmanship. There was pride and care in the construction. NNNGAH, I love museums and galleries. I greatly look forward to returning for another sample of the Ashmolean very soon.
I think that about covers the basics of my first weekend in Oxford. :) OH, other than my lame laptop problems. Long story short: my power source got fried, so I've been without laptop access. This evening I went on a wild goose chase to try to diagnose the problem, and it resulted in an ill spent 5 pounds, a drained cell phone battery, sore feet, and a near emotional breakdown. But I got the information I needed at long last, and my power source will be replaced shortly. So I've had my first miserable experience in Oxford. Thus, the end of the honeymoon. But I'm definitely still in like. ;)
Grace and peace.
Let's see. The day after I arrived in Oxford, I had a NINE HOUR orientation to the OPUS programme (the program that I am studying abroad through). The director is dignified Indian man named Deepak. He is now being fondly and somewhat irreverently being referred to as Tupac by myself and some others. He doesn't know. :) Tupac was the MC of the orientation day, and although he had lots of excellent information, he could have also presented it in a more compact manner. It was somewhat depressing to sit in a room for hours while watching all of the daylight hours slip away through the windows. But then again, good and vital information was had. After the orientation was over (finally), I was able to borrow a phone from the good people of OPUS that I will be utilizing for the duration of my stay in Oxford. I am 99% sure that I had an exact replica of this phone 5 or 6 years ago. It is an interesting experience to regress in technology, to say the least. Upside: it has Snake on it. Holla.
It's difficult to sort through which things have happened on which day over the weekend. Basically I've been hanging out a lot with my flatmates and the people living next door. My flat (222 Abingdon) is essentially a Siamese twin to the flat next door (224 Abingdon), and it's safe to say that the peeps over there are in the same echelon of awesomeness as the peeps over here. They are also part of the OPUS programme, so they're all Americans. Four of them go to APU: Daniel Hildebrand (deadpan humor galore... think Zak Galifianakas), Alan Stauffer (sarcastic punkass, but laughs easily and can take what he dishes out), Jonathan Monson (also extremely deadpan sarcastic whilst being friendly), and Lauren Bugg (sweet and bubbly, but holds her own amongst all the sarcasm). The other four are Maggie (outgoing, goofy, and adorable... sensible with an edge), Kate (bubbly, friendly, also adorable), Mel (a little cutie that packs a punch), and Parker (goofy, laughs easily, good sport, will tease/sarcasm you with a smile on his face). All seriously chill, fun, sarcastic people... just how I like em. :) Two nights ago Andrew and I invaded their flat for their family dinner, and last night after my flat's family dinner I made Kookie Brittle and a bunch of us hung out over at their place. Excellent times with excellent people.
Other than that, I've just been exploring and getting my bearings in Oxford. I can now confidently say that I know the majority of the main street names and major landmarks. I look forward to exploring and finding all of the back alleyways now. :) I had lunch at The Eagle and Child this weekend, the place where The Inklings used to chill. :D So cool! And the food was delicious: Bangers & Mash (Google that ish). I am also working my way through the cafes of Oxford. It's my personal goal to try every one of them before I leave... we'll see how that goes. There are TONS. A group of us also hit up the Ashmolean this weekend. The Ashmolean is one of Oxford's free museums, and what I saw of it was gorgeous. Someone gave me this advice: "When you go to the Ashmolean, sample it. Go in and look at a room, leave, have a coffee, and come back the next day. Don't give yourself cultural indigestion." Better advice could not have been given. We only looked at two rooms, and that was plenty to take in... there were just so many beautiful artifacts. Even the simplest utensil or weapon reflected gorgeous craftmanship. There was pride and care in the construction. NNNGAH, I love museums and galleries. I greatly look forward to returning for another sample of the Ashmolean very soon.
I think that about covers the basics of my first weekend in Oxford. :) OH, other than my lame laptop problems. Long story short: my power source got fried, so I've been without laptop access. This evening I went on a wild goose chase to try to diagnose the problem, and it resulted in an ill spent 5 pounds, a drained cell phone battery, sore feet, and a near emotional breakdown. But I got the information I needed at long last, and my power source will be replaced shortly. So I've had my first miserable experience in Oxford. Thus, the end of the honeymoon. But I'm definitely still in like. ;)
Grace and peace.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
I made it!
I'm heeeeeeerrrrrrree!! :D And it is glorious. Oxford is so incredibly beautiful and quaint, it's unreal. I seriously feel as if I'm walking on the set of a movie or a fairytale when I walk the streets. What I've seen of the architecture thus far is stunning, and it's rainy and gloomy, which is the kind of weather I live for, AND there are British accents everywhere! So it's safe to say that I'm in like with Oxford. I don't want to rush this relationship, but I have high hopes that I'll be head over heels in no time at all. :)
I flew out of SFO on Wednesday, with my mom, Eric, and Aaron to see me off. I was hoping to sit next to someone normal on my flight, and maybe even a young, good looking fella. Well I was sitting next to a fella... youngish... not normal. He was probably in his late 20s, average height, slightly overweight, wearing a blue and white gingham shirt, dress pants, and trying to appear occupied on his Blackberry. As soon as I sat down and neither of us opted to say hello, I figured that we were going to sit in silence awkwardly the entire time. I was almost right. He was one of those people that stared at me when he thought I couldn't see him... and thought I was looking at him when I was looking out the window (He had the window seat, so I had to look past him to see the takeoff and landing). After the takeoff was complete, I began to lose interest in the ever shrinking ground below, so I decided to return to my book I had begun during the complete awkwardness before we took off (I'm rereading Pride & Prejudice. I thought it was apropos.). Right when I turn to my book, he decides to ask me a question. "Were you staying in San Francisco?" ..."Uh, no. I'm from the Central Valley." ... *awkward silence*. That was the grand total of our interaction on the flight. Other items of interest: he was reading a book written by George W. Bush and ordered a Vodka Cranberry and drank it through the stirrer like it was a straw.
We landed in Minneapolis for a layover. As far as I could tell, only one other person was on both of my flights with me. I know this because as I was looking for my connection, I felt like this he was following me. And then about halfway there he passed me, and we were the only ones in an empty hallway to the international flights and he turned around awkwardly to glance at me. Apparently I had become the follower. But I digress. My flight to Heathrow-London was on one of the big international planes with two aisles. I of course had the middle seat in the middle section. Figures. But God, with His hilarious sense of humor decided to put me between two fairly attractive males that were both close to me in age. I was definitely chuckling on the inside. The fellow to my left was a slight, friendly 18 year old British guy named Matt on his way back home. He was an excellent person to sit next to: he initiated the conversation and talked periodically, but didn't feel the need to chat my ear off the entire time. Although at one point he felt the need to explain that he wasn't usually this scruffy looking... that he usually went clean shaven. And then he told me that he was considering getting a tattoo, and flashed his bicep at me to describe it. XD Ohh goodness. The fellow to my right was a tall, strawberry blonde haired and bearded, and moderately grumpy guy named Eric, from Arizona. Pretty much the only interaction I had with him was when neither of us could figure out what to put on the UK Landing Cards we were required to fill out. I lent him a pen. He was thankful.
After the long and somewhat restless 8-9ish hour flight from Minneapolis to Heathrow, I waited in line for about 45 minutes to get through the UK Border. The person that checked my paperwork and passport was a bit sarcastic about me being a theatre major. Whatever. At least I don't have to look at passports all day. :P It was extremely rainy and overcast when we landed. :D Exciting! I had to take a bus to a different terminal to be able to catch my bus to Oxford, and the drive from terminal to terminal was quite the introduction to British driving. The double decker bus would go way too fast and stop way too sharply for the inclement weather and slick roads... but we didn't hit anything. My bus ride to Oxford was much more civilized. Another girl from APU, Karly, was on the same bus as me, so it was nice to see a familiar face. And the bus had Wi-Fi! Craziness! When I wasn't frantically responding to fb messages and emails, I stared out the window at the English countryside. It looked just like how I imagined it would... just how England should look. :) Muted grassy pastures with bare trees, and aged cottages every so often. It was beautiful.
Once I got off at the final bus stop in Oxford (called Gloucester Green, but pronounced Glawster Green), Karly and I had to walk through an alley and across a square to employ a taxi. As soon as the taxi driver heard us talk, he knew exactly what program we were a part of and where we needed to go (he had obviously been making this route for other Americans all day). He said, "Wait. Let me guess. You need to go to Hertford College and then wait and have me take you to your lodgings." Haha, he was a friendly, wiry old man that was very helpful with our luggage, and not too crazy of a driver. He even called me "pet" when I left. When I arrived at my flat, it didn't look like much on the outside, and I swung open the door to find a very narrow but deep and tall residence. The kitchen is well stocked with dishes, utenstils, etc. There is a washer and dryer. Everyone else had already moved in, but nobody was home. So I checked the bottom bedrooms and saw the were already occupied. So I walked up a flight of stairs. Occupied. Another flight. Occupied. Two more flights. I got the last open room on the top floor. Four. Flights. Of. Stairs. I'm going to be so in shape. Here are some pictures I took of my room after I got all unpacked.
I flew out of SFO on Wednesday, with my mom, Eric, and Aaron to see me off. I was hoping to sit next to someone normal on my flight, and maybe even a young, good looking fella. Well I was sitting next to a fella... youngish... not normal. He was probably in his late 20s, average height, slightly overweight, wearing a blue and white gingham shirt, dress pants, and trying to appear occupied on his Blackberry. As soon as I sat down and neither of us opted to say hello, I figured that we were going to sit in silence awkwardly the entire time. I was almost right. He was one of those people that stared at me when he thought I couldn't see him... and thought I was looking at him when I was looking out the window (He had the window seat, so I had to look past him to see the takeoff and landing). After the takeoff was complete, I began to lose interest in the ever shrinking ground below, so I decided to return to my book I had begun during the complete awkwardness before we took off (I'm rereading Pride & Prejudice. I thought it was apropos.). Right when I turn to my book, he decides to ask me a question. "Were you staying in San Francisco?" ..."Uh, no. I'm from the Central Valley." ... *awkward silence*. That was the grand total of our interaction on the flight. Other items of interest: he was reading a book written by George W. Bush and ordered a Vodka Cranberry and drank it through the stirrer like it was a straw.
We landed in Minneapolis for a layover. As far as I could tell, only one other person was on both of my flights with me. I know this because as I was looking for my connection, I felt like this he was following me. And then about halfway there he passed me, and we were the only ones in an empty hallway to the international flights and he turned around awkwardly to glance at me. Apparently I had become the follower. But I digress. My flight to Heathrow-London was on one of the big international planes with two aisles. I of course had the middle seat in the middle section. Figures. But God, with His hilarious sense of humor decided to put me between two fairly attractive males that were both close to me in age. I was definitely chuckling on the inside. The fellow to my left was a slight, friendly 18 year old British guy named Matt on his way back home. He was an excellent person to sit next to: he initiated the conversation and talked periodically, but didn't feel the need to chat my ear off the entire time. Although at one point he felt the need to explain that he wasn't usually this scruffy looking... that he usually went clean shaven. And then he told me that he was considering getting a tattoo, and flashed his bicep at me to describe it. XD Ohh goodness. The fellow to my right was a tall, strawberry blonde haired and bearded, and moderately grumpy guy named Eric, from Arizona. Pretty much the only interaction I had with him was when neither of us could figure out what to put on the UK Landing Cards we were required to fill out. I lent him a pen. He was thankful.
Once I got off at the final bus stop in Oxford (called Gloucester Green, but pronounced Glawster Green), Karly and I had to walk through an alley and across a square to employ a taxi. As soon as the taxi driver heard us talk, he knew exactly what program we were a part of and where we needed to go (he had obviously been making this route for other Americans all day). He said, "Wait. Let me guess. You need to go to Hertford College and then wait and have me take you to your lodgings." Haha, he was a friendly, wiry old man that was very helpful with our luggage, and not too crazy of a driver. He even called me "pet" when I left. When I arrived at my flat, it didn't look like much on the outside, and I swung open the door to find a very narrow but deep and tall residence. The kitchen is well stocked with dishes, utenstils, etc. There is a washer and dryer. Everyone else had already moved in, but nobody was home. So I checked the bottom bedrooms and saw the were already occupied. So I walked up a flight of stairs. Occupied. Another flight. Occupied. Two more flights. I got the last open room on the top floor. Four. Flights. Of. Stairs. I'm going to be so in shape. Here are some pictures I took of my room after I got all unpacked.
This is the view from the door:
My bed:
Bedside table/Dresser:
Closet/Armoire thingy:
Desk and Sink (I have my own sink in my room!):
Sink area:
Window at the foot of my bed (it has a lovely view onto the street):
Skylight! :D
I like it. :) I'm living with not 2, not 3, not 4, not 5, not 6, but 7, count em, 7 other people. 5 boys and 3 girls total. It's my first foray into co-ed housing, and I'm actually pretty excited about it. Barring cleanliness differences, I look forward to the laid back nature that boys bring with them. Because housing drama is for squares. There are 3 toilets and 2 showers. Should be interesting. But thus far I really like all of my flat mates. They're really chill. The only other APU student that I'm living with is Andrew Keahey, and it's nice to have a familiar face around. I share the top floor with Jason and John. Jason is a friendly guy that is an Urban Studies major, which is basically anything and everything, as per the description given to me from his own mouth. John is a half Japanese, more soft spoken but just as likeable guy. Good neighbors. Next we have Ryan and Dan. Ryan is the kind of guy that won't really start a conversation with you, but is extremely responsive and friendly if you talk to him. Dan is TALL. 6'7" worth of man. Haha, poor guy is hanging off his bed. Then of course there's Andrew. :D And finally we have Jessica and Sheila, my other estrogen representations in the flat. Jessica is a friendly, redheaded girl from USC, and Sheila is a just as friendly, Indian girl who goes to school in St. Louis. All in all, I'm really satisfied with my living situation thus far.
Well, it's currently 12:45am and I'm still jet-lagged, so I think that's it for now. I know. It's a lot. My entries will most likely not continue to be this lengthy once my tutorials kick in... I can almost guarantee it. I will leave you with this: if you wish to contact me while I am in Oxford, you most certainly can! :D
Send me letters and packages and photos of you and things to decorate my walls!
Deanna Hudgens
222 Abingdon Road
Oxford
OX1 4SP
UK
Or call my cell phone! (Be sure to use an international calling card)
011 44 7913 489118
Or Skype me!
username: dancinfool370
Please DO NOT call or text my regular cell phone number. I left it in the States.
Also, please remember that I am 8 hours ahead of you. So do the math before you call me, so that you don't wake me up. Please.
I miss you all already and wish that you could share this experience with me.
Grace and Peace.
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