the fire's here to stay

after reflecting upon The Phantom of the Opera for the past few days, I've realized that I really didn't like it that much. I love the soundtrack, which I have on my ipod (the Sarah Brightman version) and to be honest, I really do enjoy the movie, even though Emmy Rossum is kind of a pansy. But this show just didn't work. the girl who played Christine over-acted and the guy who played the Phantom had trouble balancing his powerful chest voice with the more delicate, tenor sections, and that made me mad. the set was brilliant though, and there's a scene where the large chandelier that's been hanging over the audience "falls" over the people and into the stage and that was pretty dramatic. probably the best part of the whole experience was sitting next to my friend Wayne (a cappella, ya'll!) because he loved it so much and was so happy that it made me happier.

Tuesday was quite the jolt back into "school" since I hadn't done anything remotely academic in 5 days. first things first, we got the terrible news that our professor, Michael Levenson, broke his ankle really badly running and has to stay off of it for 10 days which means we wont see him until the last day of our program next Thursday :( I was really sad to hear that he got hurt and also that we lost both of our professors. but wait....DA DA DA DAHHH!

My absolute favorite professor of all time, Cynthia Wall, who lives in London with her partner and fellow UVA Professor J. Paul Hunter will be taking over!!!! I'm so excited because I love love loveee this woman. YAY!

we finished the final episode of Seven Up when the kids reached 49 years old. not sure why but these peeps are aging TERRIBLY. it's honestly disgusting. one woman has more wrinkles than yzma (for example, please view the film "The Emperor's New Groove". tony cheated on his wife, half of them were divorced and remarried (and some of them divorced again), and all of the men started balding. can't wait for old age...

after lunch we met up with PROFESSOR WALL!! at the Museum of London. there was a brand new exhibition in 3 galleries about the History of London from the Great Fire (1666) to about 1850, then 1850-1940s, and then 1940s to present. they had some pretty cool stuff. lots of artifacts with tiny little placards that detailed them and some interactives "for kids" but I think we all know that I was interacting with those ones. they had a timeline around the center of the whole thing and it had a quote from one of the poems we read! William Blake, ya'll!

upon departing from the museum we immediately left for Greenwich. this would have been moderately exciting to me except that at this point my cold was reaching peak evilness and my throat felt like 1st year (please contact Daniela Solano or either of my parents for specifics). so I'm feeling terrible and we've got to take a 50 minute boatride to get there. obviously I fall asleep because death is imminent. it takes us about 15 minutes to reach the Greenwich Observatory (RIP Stevie) and then we must climb 10 minutes of the steep precipiceness that is the hill (more death). finally we reach the top-- where you can straddle the western and eastern hemisphere, a nerdy picture is taken, and we climb back down. great!

dinner at pizza express (where ELSE!?) followed by an hour-long tube ride home complete with man sprinting onto the train to catch it and then making awkward "OMG I SO TOTALLY MISSED THE TRAIN" faces.

wednesday we discuss more poetry. I have a new favorite. by david young. from "poem in three parts." favorite stanza:

Once again I do not know

how this can be turned into words

and held steady

even for a moment:

it slides across your eye

and flickers in your mind.

so gooooooood.

we then went to a photography exhibition in Oxford Circus by an artist from Lexington, VA--not too far from Charlottesville, ya'll!!--called Sally Mann. she's considered pretty controversial because her early work was inspired by her three children, in which she photographed them from ages 3, 5, and 8 in the nude. it's fine when they're young but she continued to pose them nude until they were considerably older--I think maybe 13 or something--and lots of people had problems with the exhibition. personally I found the photographs to be totally beautiful and not at all pornographic or offensive. her kids (two girls and one boy) are absolutely beautiful and have this kind of eerie precociousness about them. they have these intense faces in their photos. it was really inspiring. she moved on to capturing images of the Virginia landscape in a surprisingly well-transitioned shift. these were totally beautiful too and makes me miss Virginia (only an eeeeensy bit). we also went into a room that displayed about 8 images she had done of dead, decaying corpses but I'll just say that wasn't really my thing and I dipped out of there asap.

today is the day I start feeling really terrible and realize how sick I am. It has gone from a sore throat and body pain to full blow sinus infection very quickly. but what the fuck else is new, right? however, I decide to man-up because at 3 o clock England is playing and obvi I want to see the game. so we wander around the area for about 15 minutes struggling to find a pub with a television (that doesn't also have some private event for the game) and I end up asking a waitress at a cafe. she points us in the direction of "The Old Explorer" pub, which turned out to be a fine decision.

sadly we got there a little bit too late to get great seats but we squished into couches for the game. the people in our area were super fun and noisy and drunk (even though it was only 3-holler!) and most of them were still dressed in their suits like they had literally taken off from work to watch this game. additionally, Snakebites are offered.

my minimal alcohol consumption has lead to an increase in fatigue and general feelings of death so when we amble over to Kensington to get dinner before our class play I fall asleep in the booth on the restaurant. in my skirt. thanks, Kels for the photo? coooooool so we then make our way over to the play, Sucker Punch, directed by one Roy Williams. go tarheels?

I can't really figure out why exactly I hated this play. I'm going to assign 45% of my distate to my illness, 35% to the abysmal acting, 10% to the existence of the girl who played "Becky", and 10% to the absolutely absurd "American accent" put on by one of the characters. that was just a rough assignment of percentages, but seriously I didn't enjoy it at all and I think it had some serious potential. there were moments where I almost liked it, but mostly I didn't connect to any of the characters, I thought the writing to be rather poor, the actors said their lines too quickly and without the right amount of emotion for the line they were saying, and the plot (racial tensions in 1970s London by means of a white man coaching a black man in boxing) was a bit used, in my opinion. did I mention I was also sick?

****chelsea falls asleep at a record 10:14pm.

by this time I am close to death. i've started taking antibiotics but they haven't kicked in yet and I'm generally feeling that the end is near. much like I shall soon perish. I write the first draft of my will. jk.

Thursday morning I make it up for a meager breakfast and class where we discuss the play for 45 minutes and I contribute one comment with a nose full of snot and depression. the rest of my classmates have to grab a quick lunch on Baker Street because we have a walking tour with the infamous Roger Bowdler of Parliament and Buckingham Palace and the rest of that area but I stay behind.

I realize that this was a sad walk to miss because it's all the juicy, photo-oppy historic stuff but I really needed to sleep. I napped until about 130 and then got my things together, grabbed a quick lunch to-go (or take away, as they say here) and hopped on the Tube to meet Group A for tea and snacks at Professor Wall's flat.

her home is the cutest thing you've ever seen. I've seen her place in Charlottesville (on JPA Extended) and it was totally your standard English professor's house. This then, would be your standard English professor's summer flat in London. the kitchen/living room area is one big open room and then they have a couple little nooks for their bedroom, etc. not the biggest place in the universe but cozy and bright with lots of big windows and book EVERYWHERE. she had made us little finger sandwiches, crumpets with jam and clotted cream (mmmm), the best strawberries I've ever tasted and cherries, and some assorted cookies. also hard-boiled quail eggs which I was not interested in but which were adorable nonetheless.

after tea we came back to Regent's for a little bit and I met Molly and Caroline in the lobby so we could go see MAMMA MIAAAAAAAA AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it was a blast I had so so much fun. the girl who played Sophie was no Amanda Seyfried but then, few are. the only thing I was really disappointed in was the opening and closing "I Have Dream" songs because the actress who played Sophie didn't seem to be able to sing softly and high--like she could only belt high. so the thing started off with me being really nervous that I would be disappointed. but the rest was amazing. the woman who played Donna was unreal, she was soooooooooo good. I was also worried that all the little one liners from the movie would just be duplicated on stage but there were fresh jokes in there that were super funny.

That night I came back and, still really sick, tried to go to bed early (around 11pm) but I had consumed some Diet Coke before the Mamma Mia show and caffeine really doesn't work with me if I drink it after like 4pm. so I was exhausted but sleep didn't really come. and it was midnight. and then 1am. and then I think the last time I saw was about 2:30am. AH. both my roommates got up at 5:15am because they were going to Wimbledon and you have to get there really early to stand in line for tickets so when their alarms went off at the crack of dawn, I was up. and never fell back asleep. so I got a little bit less than 3 hours that night. lovelyyyyyy!!

While I was attempting to kill time in the morning I was also gearing myself up for my daytrip to Oxford! I was kind of starting to bum out because I hadn't really heard that very many people were going. The first two weeks of daytrips most everyone went because they were to fun places and why the hell not, but I think since this was the last weekend of the program and the last definite weekend people would be in London they had their own boxes to check off that maybe didn't include Oxford.

People on the trip to Oxford included: Chelsea, Jon and Meg (program admins who organized the trip), Chris Post, and Chris Post's Mom Dr. Barb. woooooooooooooo! crazyyyyy.

But we actually had a great time and it was a completely unique experience because there wasn't so much stress about counting a big group and worrying about who wants to see what or us all fitting and I think in the long wrong we got to do more because it took less time for 5 of us to get in, see things, and get out.

The train ride there was packed and we couldn't get seats until about 15 minutes out so I just listened to Michael Buble on my iPod to destress from lack of sleep.

Then I entered magic world. For starters, the very first pub we pass is called The Wahoo right next to one Glee Club. Ummm....yes? UVA A CAPPELLA FO LIFE! the first, and most famous college at Oxford is called Christ College. Aside from the fact that 14 of England's Prime Ministers attended, it is also, and most importantly, the site of filming for the first 2 Harry Potter films. So I got to see the hall where Harry first meets Draco (You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't wanna go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there) and where McGonagall comes up to let them into the Great Hall for sorting--here I took a picture on the staircase holding up a pen like a wand...And then we also got to go INTO the Great Hall--where I took a picture with a glass of invisible Butterbeer. Sadly, the pictures on the wall did not move and the floating candles were absent but all in all AN AMAZING TIME!

We then walked back toward the main drag for lunch at the Eagle and Child, a really famous pub where JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis used to hang out with their literary groups. I decided to be really adventurous and try to 'Vegetarian Sausage'. got a little scared when Meg suggested that the reason is was taking so long was because "no one's probably ordered it in awhile so maybe they don't know where it is..." EW MEG. but it was realllllllllly yum.

from here we wandered around other colleges, saw the Rhodes House (mansion) where Rhodes Scholars hang out, and went into lots of college's gardens and halls. lots of pretty pictures! we took a nice little stroll by the river and then made our way back toward the center of the town where Chris and his mom went over to see the track where the 4 minute mile was broken (Chris is an insane runner--runs like 15 miles every morning or something) and Meg and Jon and I did some shopping and hanging. I got a navy and dark green Oxford rugby shirt :)

Jon had his heart set on a milkshake from MOO MOOs AND on a cookie from Ben's Cookies so that happened...(meg and I played it safe and not to mention healthier) with some iced coffee.

The train ride back was more comfortable but again, just had the caffeine, so I didn't nap. When I got back to Baker Street ELIZABETHHHHH!!! was waiting for me and she came back to Regents with me while I took a shower and we got ready for dinner and a night out. We got dinner at an Indian Curry restaurant with German-Turk and then went to meet up with his friend James, who I had met the very first night.

2 hours and 34230985093 calls later Becca and Kelsey find us at Commercial Tavern. They are covered in sunburn and are verrrrrry drunk, specifically Kelsey. Becca was also the funniest any person has ever been on this night. I peed myself laughing. but I was the only one. damnittttttt. bar closed at 11pm randomly so clubbing also happened. and it was insane.

Saturday was kind of a weird day. the weather here has gotten so hot that I feel like I'm constantly melting and on the verge of passing out. we got breakfast around 10 and noodled around trying to figure out what to do, ultimately deciding to go to Covent Garden to go "shopping." Instead, we got there and immediately bumped into a table offering free samples of chips and guacamole to advertise for a new Mexican restaurant. umm...jackpot? everything I could have ever wanted. and more.

after some fake attempts at shopping we decided we had to check out the mehicano restaurant. and ohhh did we. 2 orders of guac (the kind they make right at your table) and 1 of chile con queso. i died. had to walk it off. also, I've been desperately trying to do some serious shopping damage but I just can't find anything that I really want to buy. it's very frustrating. and yet somehow the money still gets spent....

we came back with full intentions of Liz going home on the train but convinced her to come back out with us!!! Kels, Bels (Becca), and I had our first shower party (where we all pick stalls near each other and shower, nothing fishy now) and got ready to go out again. we went to Las Iguanas!! this awesome (and also Mexican) restaurant that Kelsey and Becca had been to last weekend. they had an extreeeemely generous drink special that we convinced Liz to join in on because her dad wasn't going to come until after Ghana and USA finished their game. RIP USA :( wee! we went back to the absurd bar from the night before (Commercial Tavern) and were again kicked out at 11pm- no one knows why.

Sunday was spent with German-Turk. we played in the sunshine and then met the girls back at Las Iguanas for continued drink specials and then all 4 of us went back to Camden to watch the

England/Germany game with his friend James. Becca and Kelsey hit up World's End while Selim and I tried to find James at the place he was at--Lockside Lounge. we couldn't find him so watched until halftime at one place. I should have been grateful for this heap of hotness because nothing could have prepared me for how fucked up Lockside Lounge was. it was hotter than the 7th circle of hell and I was fully prepared to die. it was also very funny to watch the boy try to keep his excitement down as Germany beat the crap out of England. RIP England.

never died but I got sick for about an hour once I got back to Regents. heat + drinking = not good. I was forced to rally for once last hurrah at The World's End but I physically could consume nothing but water. I'm gonna miss you, snakebites :(

documentation of Monday and Tuesday later today. gotta take a nap before class. sorry I've been such a lazy piece of sheet.

** I realize it seems like I drank a lot this weekend. and maybe I did. but it was my last real London weekend. and I had to do it right.

LOVE. ck.

alive and well, just running on about 8 hours of sleep...in 3 days

I know, I know. I'm fired.

It's been 5 days since I've blogged. what have you guys been doing without me!?

Since Wednesday my life has been kind of a blur. a really fun and crazy blur, but one that's led to a lack of sleep and stage one of my death, also known as the common cold. so please forgive me for being so missing in action, and let's get this thing started.

THURSDAY:

if we recall, I went to a rather violent (yet compelling) theatrical presentation of Macbeth last Wednesday.

thursday morning involved our discussion of the play as a group and our end-of-week recapitulation and basically our feelings after 2 weeks of being in London.

My thoughts are kind of all over the place. A part of me will always feel a little bit sad to be away from my family and friends. True to my theory about living, I feel strongly that life is short and my time should be spent with people I have the most fun with and care most about. Unfortunately a lot of those people aren't here with me in London. and even though I've made a few really amazing friends, there's still a tiny sense of longing for familiar faces and voices (the longing has been seriously complicated by my computer's suicide threats and the self-induced temper tantrum committed after 45 minutes of use--thus leading to infrequent skype dates).

on the other side of the coin I feel like I don't ever want to leave this place. I've always known that I was more of a "city girl" than a suburban girl (sorry, Fairfax) and I think it's safe to say that I'm not even going to mess with the country, but I'm still shocked at how easily I fit into life in London. I'm really really comfortable here. Like I blend in enough to feel at ease but the city makes me feel fresh and noticed. It's given me this energy that I can't explain. It's been kind of surreal because I never knew there was something missing but now that I feel this way it's like there was even more to me than I knew. it's inspired me to want to extend my graduate school applications to London schools!! so I'm very excited about that.

after our 2nd week recap we also had to say goodbye to one of our professors, Clare Kinney, who headed back to the states today, Monday. MISS YOU ALREADY, CLARE BEAR!

next we got lunch and then headed back to Hampstead to have a walking tour with Roger Bowdler, the funny architect. it was literally one of the most beautiful days I've ever experienced, and thank god because the walk was 2 hours long. we visited this really amazing cemetery I got real morbid taking lots of pictures weeeee!

after Hampstead we came back for dinner and I was somehow convinced, despite my severe fatigue coming on, that the Improv (in England called Impro) Show at 8:30pm was a GREAT PLAN. call it my negative attitude, call it an advanced knowledge of great humour, I did NOT enjoy this show. the first half was entirely music-themed, with the "comedians" singing songs one line or even one word at a time and the second half was not much better. I think I laughed once and it was because of something Becca said from 2 seats over. 5 pounds down the drain.

the highlight of my night was after we had left the show and after spending some time at a pub that served Snakebites (sort of) my friends wanted to stop off at KFC--wtf, ew!--and Nica and I snuck into the out-of-service bathroom. I lost approximately 4 months off my life from the stench. seriously not good. Nica then proceeded to throw french fries at all things until we got home.

FRIDAY!!

We went to the Bath Spas in the country! about and hour and a half outside the city. I had zero knowledge of the Roman Bath element to this town--because apparently I've never read a damn book--but they were STUNNING! I had no idea all the history and dirty details of the baths and how they worked (and please don't ask me to repeat them) but it was great. Unfortunately we chose to spend 10 pounds on a guided tour of the baths which sounds helpful but actually, we would have gotten these telephone-esque walky talkies that were synched up to a voice tour where you could press the number of a sign you saw while walking and it would tell you about what you were seeing. that was actually much more informative and interesting but alas, what can you do?

a few of us split off and went over to the Assembly Rooms as characterized in a few Jane Austen novels and I was pumpeeeed to see where all my favorite heroines spent their holidays :) Nica and I even joined together for some old school dancing (read we posed like we were dancing for a picture and called it a day).

we then made our way back over to the center of the town for High Tea! so precious. I had yummy green tea with mango and a coffee-walnut cake. it was very mmmm! Becca, Kelsey, and I then decided to head back early a few trains ahead of the rest of the group because Liz was coming to meet me after work!! this would have been totally fine except for one thing, and we shall call this thing: CHLOE.

Chloe and I are not acquainted. At least I'm not sure we are. She could have been the heinous woman sitting next to the extremely low-class man with the name Chloe tattooed in hideous medieval block lettering onto his neck. She could have been some random whore tattoo man had a "connection" with. I don't really care. the main issue here is that apparently, tattoo and maybe-Chloe-maybe-neglected-female sat next to us on said train ride and decided that we were too "American" for them because they made some loud, whiny comment about our nationality and, as they were getting off the train at the first stop, neck boy threw up his half-full cup of rosee wine into the air and onto the three of us and the poor gentleman who let us share his table.

Yes. you read this correctly. he threw wine at us. and said "Oh...hmm...sorry..." in a very assholey voice, to which I responded "uhhhmmm you don't sound sorry" and then he and his woman left. IS THIS A JOKE!? such disgusting human beings. lowest of lows. hope he got hepatitis C from his horrendous tat. **as a side note, I would like to just say that nobody said anything to this guy or helped us out at all when the incident occurred. in some defense, we thought it was pretty funny at first because honestly, why the hell would that ever happen, it was too weird, but come on, England, help some sisters out...

So the wine eventually dried and we got back to school to meet Lizzy! we changed and mellowed for a second before heading back out to everyone's favorite pub, The World's End in Camden.

we'll get dinner when we get there, they said.

we're not that hungry, they said.

they really should start thinking ahead.

someone, sadly, jumped onto the third rail in the underground moments before we realized we (Chelsea) had taken us on the longest possible root to Camden, so not only were we basically stranded on a line that was miles and miles away from our final destination and no longer in service, but the rest of the world inconvenienced by this suicide was also scurrying about trying to figure out a new root. it took us about and hour and 45 to get to Camden, by which time the England game was already 30 minutes underway. keep in mind, still no food.

so we got drinks and frolicked watching the game. and then for whatever reason my London confidence encouraged me to strike up conversation with the extremely sexy Italian boys who were standing behind us. (your welcome, Kelsey and Becca).

they were hilarious. the language barrier was only somewhat of a problem and only with one of them. they kept trying to buy us drinks, and my name is now in "Emmanuelli's" phone as "Chelsea (Blonde One)" great great night. Kelsey thinks so too ;)

SATURDAY:

Saturday morning was an early start. not really sure why even, since all I did was shower and read until breakfast. which I inhaled, btw, because I still never got dinner. At noon I went to hang out with Selim, the German boy (who is in fact very Turkish, his family just moved to Germany about 50 years ago). we got cheeses and a baguette from the street market and went home and made hummus and just hung out all day. don't need to go into the gory details but it I'll just say it was one of my best days here.

quote of the day:

"Woahh...that girl was realllllllllllllly tall."

"I think that was a man."

"oh."

SUNDAY:

in case no one told you silly Americans, yesterday was the summer solstice. what does this mean, you might ask? I'm pretty sure it just means it's the longest day of the year. UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR.

we raced to the train station for a 5:15 train to go "see the solstice" at Stonehenge, the famous prehistoric monument. toting delicious snacks and coffee, we made the hour and half long trek to Salisbury for 18.50 pounds. we then took a 9 pound bus ride to a randomly placed "stop" where we all got out and walked for about 3 miles (but for free!) through a hilly, hidden hole-filled, cowpie field of doom until we made it to STONEHENGE! wait--is that really it? huh...thought they'd be bigger...

apparently, this special annual event brings out a quite a lively crowd. and boy oh boy does it. about half of these individuals are the creepiest people one could ever meet. some looked homeless, some were just dressed to look homeless, some were dressed up in matching and clearly homemade costumes of black and purple fabrics with facepaint chanting Pagan rituals and with a goat skull bringing up the rear, some were insane hippies with drums and bells around their ankles and dreadlocks that dragged on the ground. you get my point. WEIRD, WEIRD SHIT.

it was basically like woodstock. only in England instead of the States. and by a pile of rocks instead of by musicians. and with about 1,000 extra psychos. still plenty of weed and acid, though, so that was a plus. JUST KIDDING MOM! I only do the REALLY hard stuff. so like the nerdy UVA kids were are we played "Fish Bowl," a variation of Catch Phrase, Taboo, and Sherades. it was sort of awesome. sort of long and stressful. my team lost 52-69.

it then began to get rather dark. and rather cold. and then really cold. and then really really cold. what the hell, is this the summer solstice or the winter one? frozen solid, ya'll!

this was supposed to be an all-night rave but most of us crashed by about 1:30am. I never actually slept but I could not pretend that I wasn't afraid that hypothermia would set in, and I thought it best to find my happy place of warmth and love in the fetal position with my eyes closed.

by about 3:30 we were all starting to chirp about how much we hated our lives, Stonehenge, and summer solstices. the sunrise (which is one of the "coolest" parts about the experience--yeah, this thing sucked, ok) was supposed to happen right around 4am. BUT OF COURSE we're in fucking England and the sun never shines because there are always clouds threatening to make it pour. so we huddled around watching the clouds cover the sun until about 515 when I started to cry because my feet were so cold.

so now we have to do the 3 mile hole-y, cowpie death march BACK to the "bus stop," take the smelly bus back to the station, and wait for our train. which, by the way, isn't until 9:45am (4 hours from now) and they won't allow us to go to the platform for food or toilets until 8:45. so we trudge into the "city" of Salisbury and collectively resemble death. no public restrooms are open at 6am. or 630. around 645 we wait in line outside of The King's Head Inn which will open for breakfast at 7am. LIARS. 7:15 we go into the restaurant, use the bathrooms, and about half of us fall asleep in the booth. we get yelled at for sleeping so Becca and Kelsey and I say "fook you" to the king and his head and traipse over to Starbucks which opens at 730. our spirits are significantly lifted by coffee and muffins and our own personal couches in the upstairs common area.

we fall asleep. we are again chastised for sleeping in a restaurant. we fall asleep again.

back through the city to the train station. onto the platform. oh shit, wrong platform.

only 3 coaches? are we even going to get seats?

molly finds 5 of us seats, 3 are left behind.

all 5 of us pass out hard core.

***

"next stop is...Woking."

***

"next stop is...Waterloo." (this is what we want)

***

yawwwwwn...

"next stop is...Wimbledon."

oh shit, you guys.

oh shit. did we miss our stop? OHHHHHH MY GOD.

just kidding we didn't. wouldn't that have been funny? (no.)

all in all, worst day of my entire life.

good news is we got to miss class (which was ok and even encouraged by Professor Levenson).

we somehow convinced our weary bodies that we had the energy to buy tickets to The Phantom of the Opera? but we got pretty decent tickets for a pretty decent price, came back to Regents, inhaled lunch, showered, and passed out until dinner.

I'm officially too tired to detail Phantom, which I saw tonight, but I promise I will fill you all in tomorrow.

missing everyone like crazy but I'm having a blast! BIG LOVE, ck.

and then it all got a little blurrier...

today, I decided to put off showering. I like the smell of London on my skin. and I'm struggling pretty hard to get up in the mornings. today was no exception. I somehow managed to drag my body to the refectory and put away yogurt and cereal and make it to class. Prof. Kinney (a Shakespeare whiz) lectured on Macbeth and the Globe Theater for 45 minutes, our thoughts were reviewed for 15, and class ended promptly at 11 when I slothed my way back up to my room and passed out until noon for lunch.

after lunch we went to SEE Macbeth at the Globe Theater and it was unreal. the director took some serious risky and risqué liberties on this one. the "Groundlings" are the people whose tickets only allow them to stand on the floor by the stage. at this play, a black sheet was tied to the stage with holes for people to put their heads through (supposed to represent Hell haha), making it more spacious for one to stand and with less people in the standing room only. it also made it possible for actors covered in stage blood and pretending to be haggard souls to emerge at random parts of the show and moan and twist their bodies around. SICK!

the actor who played Macbeth looked like Heath Ledger's (RIP!) older and slightly balding (but still extremely sexy) older brother. he had that same earth shattering smile and husky voice. mmmm! someone raised a question in class earlier wondering whether Macbeth and Lady Macbeth would be really loving or really distant or someone in between (since you could play it any of those ways). this director chose to encourage the loving version. or should I say love-making. there was a quasi pornagraphic sex scene in this version of Macbeth, and a near-rape scene between the murderous duo. wonder what Bill would have thought. it was intense. there was also A LOT of blood. but I guess that's to be expected in a play about lots of death. it was great though, despite the surprises. Additionally, upon pulling my glasses OUT OF THEIR CASE to see the show, I discovered that one of the side had broken off and one of the lenses was scratched. COOL LIFE, CHELSEA! CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO SEE THE REST OF LONDON! fuck me, right? mahalo. (miss you pants/soaps).

when we got out at about 445 I had an hour and half to kill before meeting Liz so Becca and I found a coffee shop and chatted. With 20 minutes to spare we headed towards the Tube stop 100 yards away. what's that you say? not a Tube stop? An "overground" train stop? A whaaa??

Chelsea: Excuse me, could you tell me where the nearest Tube stop is?

Friendly-ish Brit: Uhhh, haha, you're pretty far away from any Tube stop. Which one are you looking for?

Chelsea: cooooooooooooool. Looking for Barbican.

Brit: go diagonally right until you get to St. Pauls and there's a stop there but by the time you got on a to Barbican you could probably just walk there.

Chelsea: aweeeeeeeeeesome thanks.

WRONG WRONG WRONG.

we get to St. Pauls okay but Barbican was another story. 30 minutes and $10 worth of calls to Liz's cell phone I find her. we're meeting up because her mum (who sings in the London Symphony Chorus) is performing with the London Symphony Orchestra and a famous pianist and soprano. The pianist, Vladimir Feltsman, blew my mind. I've never seen anything like it. It was 45 straight minutes of him mastering the piano like he had written the piece himself. So much emotion, so much expression, so much passion. I wish I could do anything half as well has he played that piano. It was stunning. I was less impressed with the soprano singer, Sally Matthews, mostly just because I had already heard the Chorus perform that piece a few weeks back in this tiny church and I enjoyed that sound so much more than with her and the orchestra over top of them. It was obviously still really enjoyable. They did Poulenc's Gloria, a total masterpiece.

Tomorrow we get to go on a walking tour with Roger Bowdler, that awesome architectural historian from last week. Greaaaaaaaat my injured groin muscle is going to LOVE that. best be stocking up on Ibuprofin and heating pads.

more soon (and I promise one of these days I'll try to get intellectual up here)! big love, CK.

I'm so fucking fucked up in this fart pub blahhh

yesterday was the World Cup game between the US and England. but I'm sure you knew that. the plan was to go to Camden Market (where there are lots of street vendors under tents selling ill shit) and then back toThe World's End pub (the one above where I saw that show last weekend) to watch the World Cup game. I purchased my new fave ring of all time and some cool little euro shoesies!

Making our way over to the pub, we got there pretty early but the place was still packed with people (standing room only, Y'all!--don't worry, I don't actually say ya'll now, but Britt can tell you all about it). i almost immediately met this guy (called Paul) who heard my accent and asked me when I'd come to root for America. uhh, never, Paul! I'm all about ENG-GA-LAND ENG-GA-LAND ENG-GA-LANDDDDDD (my new fave drinking song)!! so he's like beautiful and funny and teaches at a high school for underprivileged kids. exxxxcellent. he was talking my ear off and being really friendly and sweet to my friends. I was pretty stoked about Paul. and then he introduced me to HIS friends, who immediately (one in particular, Becky, whose 23rd birthday it was) took and extreme and immediate disliking to me. I couldn't figure it out. then she and her friends started glaring and me with those looks that kill and whispering things that I can only imagine would haunt my dreams. not cool, becky. I was certain they hated me. it took me about 25 minutes to put it together but I sleuthed the shit out of this little mystery of hate and whispers. my dear friend Paul had a girlfriend SKEEZE WTF I HATE YOU. and apparently he "always does this" (hits on innocent and lovely girls like me) so I peaced outta his sightline asap and talked shit about him with his other friends. suck on that, Paul, youz a dick.

even though I'm acting like I was totally cool about it, at the time I was pretty distressed about this Paul business and even texted daniela, channeling emo tears of death. he really fooled me. so I attempted to drink my sorrows away via Snakebite (hip British drink). then i see this gaggle of 5 or 6 boys and immediately notice the tall one. he's got that sneaky, pretentious, evil but sexy look about him. I keep my cool. I then see a sign above the bar that says "Pimm's $10.90" (and by $ i mean pounds but my comp can't do that so like $16). and I turn to one of his friends who'd had his back to me and say something like "holy shit, is a pitcher of Pimms really worth that much?" And then I fell in love.

His name is Selim. He's German. 28 years old and in Film School in London for screen writing. he's very charming, and very funny, and has this creative pensiveness about him that I really like. he's got my number. let's see if the Deutschman can make some moves.

today was mostly a wash. didn't get much done except watch Love Actually and NOT do my reading for class. I should probs get on that.

hopefully this week will be really busy and exciting like last and I can write about actual things and not just about futbol and Pimms. LOVE! ck

lookinggg for thisssss?

i meant to blog last night but i got back at like 12:30am (so wild) and was too tired. and now I can't remember a single thing I did yesterday. sooooo blackout.

we had class 10-1230 and a visit from Sophie Laws, this awesome and not to mention hilarious old British professor who talked to us about religion's role in the history of England. after we discussed that ill play we saw and then "wrapped up" the week. OH YEAH! now I remember.

after lunch we went on a walking tour of Kensington, the surrounding Gardens, and some kids went to see Notting Hill (to Hill and Nottingbird?) but some of us were too tired and skidaddled early. the area was so awesome and wayyy posh, not to mention it's in a joining borough with Chelsea (holla). Loads of famous literary people lived in the neighborhood: TS Eliot, James Joyce, Henry James, etc. totally cool dudes, if you ask me.

When we got back we all picked up dinner from the Refectory to watch 21 Up! (the next episode--and about 3 times as long--from the series about the English kids). it was kind of sad. 2 girls had gotten married at 20, both were psycho. one guy dropped out of school and became homeless. one guy working in the freezer of a meat company. UGH. so depressing. now I hate Up.

I was ready to call it a night at 7:30 but I had to rally. We went back into Camden to the World's End pub again to scope out the scene for the Saturday England-US game. it was as rad as I remembered it being. now I really can't wait.

this morning we got up at the asscrack of dawn to go to Cambridge. the train ride there was supes fun because me, Wayne, Becca, and Molly played this ridiculous card game called "Mao" that was actually really hilarious and kind of hard. my competitive streak got the best of me yet again. I won the last game WOO! it's basically crazy 8s (you can only play the same suit or the same number) but there are a ton of extra rules that start the game and every time someone wins they make a new rule. to top it off, you're not allowed to have the rules explained to you, you're supposed to just "figure it out." VERY fun.

cambridge was crazy. very old and very beautiful. but to be honest, after I paid 2 random pounds to walk up a bajillion steps to see the view of all the colleges from the top, I wasn't really down to frolic to all of them on foot, so me, Becca, Kelsey, and Kayla just went shopping :) tehe. I found a vintage turquoise and black plaid button down that any emo, skinny black jeans wearing hipster would die for (10 pounds), a fun new lil skirt for 8 pounds, and some stirrupped leggings that cost 6 dollars. beat that! (you can't). i also got this ill t-shirt that said:

CAM

BRIDGE

ENG

LAND

weeeeeeee!!!!!!!

there was a brief moment of fear when we realized it was 6:30 and we were gonna cut it close walking home from Primark (Target meets Forever 21 meets the lowest level of Hell) so we took our first cab. nothing too crazy, but still cool.

got home in time for a weirdass dinner of curried something or other, a plate full of more peas than one should ever hope to see and CHIPS!

we were all so tired that we rented Superbad from the school movie library (they didn't have The Emperor's New Groove which was a serious disappointment as Becca and I have been repeating quotes all day--if you heard her Yzma impression with my Kronk impression you could die happy) and watched it in the campus cinema. and now I must pass out. so exhausted from walking the whole day.

BIG GAME TOMORROW! rooting for England so this place goes nutz and I can witness the madness.

missing my Mama and Papa very much. wish I could share all of this with my amazing parents. love you guys! CK

ps: will start posting more pictures again when I get a chance!!

people watching from the southbank...with whipped cream

i refused to shower this morning. it was the first in awhile where I literally had to give myself a pep talk to get out of bed. i thought we'd save sleep time by getting up a little bit later (8:30 instead of 8:15) and so have less time for breakfast (and thus eat less) but it turned out none of our computers were connecting to the internet because we didn't change our passwords for internet access so there was lots of time to kill. i think we had the longest breakfast yet.

we had a guest lecturer in class today, Roger Bowdler, an architectural historian from English Culture. i had a ginormous crush on him. there was a ring on that special finger of his but I'm pretty determined. he had that charming British sense of humor coupled with extreme knowledge of London's history. the perfect mate. he left without me confessing my love for him but DON'T WORRY: he'll be back. thrice more, in fact. i'll keep you posted on the blossoming relationship. we wrapped up discussion on The Secret Agent and then headed out for lunch.

After lunch we traveled to some art gallery in a place I can't recall. I found it extremely boring and I'm fairly sure I was in a semi-comatose state the entire time. it was about female artist's re-expressions of maps? or something? i thought it kinda sucked. i do not care to report further on the matter.

we then were left with 4 hours of "free time" which on my high school trip would have meant drink absinthe and TBC it up but instead we were way more grown up and went to the Southbank early. we were meeting there at 7:15 to see a play at the National Theater.

so we arrived around 3:30, and versed around looking at an open book fair, going into a barnes n nobley store where I read about 7 children's picture books (my favorite was Dogs Don't Do Ballet). we then decided that we were quite famished and decided to get dinner early. we ate at "Wagamama's" a japanese food restaurant where I got veggie dumplings and sticky rice and requested that a delectable-looking sauce from another dish, the "coconut and lime curry sauce" be represented on my plate. The sauce arrived in a soup bowl that could serve 5 hungry men. but it was exxxcellent. we then got ice cream that tasted like thick whipped cream (and has this little stick of chocolateyness called a "flake" and which I had to give up due to my chocoholic STEPS program). the quasi whipped cream was promptly given to my friend Kayla because it was starting to make me feel sick. for the next 2 hours we people watched from a bench. we pretty much hated on anyone who wasn't beautiful or wearing white soccer shorts. no one was safe. unwarranted discrimination is the bestest, ain't it?

after the hate fest we made our way over to the show which consisted of 3 1-hour long acts (aka long as SHIT) but it was superb. it was about this wealthy couple and their acquaintances living in London in the 1930s. they lived this extravagant lifestyle and drank themselves silly simply to avoid being considered "a bore" to one another but actually were sort of faking it all, pretending it was how they wanted to live when actually it didn't work for anyone. their life is uprooted by this totally annoying control freak named Helen who fucked literally everything up. i hated her. the lead guy in it was in Atonement and The Other Boleyn Girl! Woah so famous! he was excellent. good good stuff.

we then came home on the Tube where we passed a rather handsome young gentleman dressed in a suit vomiting into the wall of the Baker Street station and then were approached by a man who introduced himself as "a psychoanalyst who had just been robbed and needed money or a place to stay," asking us "if we were permanent residents of Regent's College. my answer was "yes we live here, no were not here permanently" and AHHHHHHHHHHHH!! psychoanalyst my arse. he was just psycho. very scary. i reported him to our program admins and the front desk who then reported him to the park police. not feeling the crazy.

SHOUTOUT to my Woodson Glax girls who are heading to the Virginia State Championships! I wish I could be there. TWB :)

i would also like to say that I miss my nooter very very much and I cannot wait to make her go see Sex and the City 2 with me upon my return.

it's time for bed over here. much love! CK

freedom is just another word for "nothing to lose"

first real day of class. was awesome. we had a reading quiz on the secret agent by joseph conrad (about this guy who is the owner of a porn shop by day, anarchist by night, and spy for the Russian embassy in secret). sounds like a blast right? it sucked. at least, the first half did. I wouldn't know a damn thing about the second half. but I'm pretty sure I got a 9/10 on the reading quiz. (thanks bonus question!) after our professors had read out the first question the fire alarm went off and 300 people had to exit the building. so typical.

our first discussion lasted about an hour and a half and we talked about our experiences from yesterday at St. Pauls, the Tate Modern, and then about the book. I successfully contributed my 2 cents. or should I say pence? sorry that's just some cute British humour. you wouldn't understand...

I have 2 professors teaching here. The first, Michael Levenson, I've had for 2 semesters but as the professor in front of a class of 300+ teaching parts 2 and 3 of "the history of English lit." he co-taught both courses with prof. Cushman. they are both great guys and amazing teachers but they seem to thrive on the energy of teaching such a big class. in this smaller class of 30ish, Levenson is still very fun and cool and has actually made a great effort to get to know the students on a 1:1. yesterday we talked briefly about my life and he seemed moderately interested. just wait till i get famous, Levenson, then you can say you knew me when my life story consisted of "fairfax, bogart, and a double major." Clare Kinney is the other professor here, born in Northern England in the countryside and very bright. she pushed her way all the way up the ranks of the education ladder to Cambridge, where we will be visiting on Friday! anyway, I really love both the professors. they are both so interesting, obviously love London, and even though they've been teaching this summer study abroad for years, it doesn't seem rehearsed. it all seems like they're starting fresh and making new comments, learning as we do. even our program admins (Jon and Meg, adorable married couple who both took this class as undergrads and who are now PhDs) contribute a lot and say the most thought provoking things. as do many of the students here. wahoowa! (ps: today's blog title is copyright Professor Kinney. took my breath away when she said it too.)

after we got lunch we started watching "the Up Series," a documentary film that began shooting in 1964 with a bunch of 7-year old british kids of varying classes to determine whether their social situations would pre-determine their lives. we watched Seven-Up! (the first installment with the seven year olds) and Seven plus 7 (the second one when the kids were 14). the series continues with new installments every seven years and is soooo interesting. the kids changed quite a bit from the first to second episodes, becoming less innocent and naive and more calculating and self-conscious. very odd combo. some of the cuties from the first episode became heinously unattractive teens going through their awkward puberty stage. so ew. i'm pumped for 21 Up! it'll be weird to see them at my own age.

after the movie and discussion we went on a walk through Regent's Park. we were going to see The Crucible in the open outdoor theater but it was mad rainy so we made alternate plans to potentially see "The Prince of Persia" but it was optional and I was thinking "not so much." The walk started out with raincoats donned and umbrellas in their protective positions but very quickly turned into a warm, sunny afternoon, perfect for a walk in such a gorgeous park. we walked past the fountain described by Virginia Woolf in "Mrs. Dalloway" (which I will be reading by the end of this trip) and then past the zoo (eee!! i saw Pumba!) and then over to Primrose Hill (typical adorable English town) and saw the house where William Butler Yeats lived (later to be inhabited by Sylvia Plath and the very house in which she committed suicide.) in every house where a famous Brit lived the historic society has posted a "blue dot" with the persons name to signify its relevance. apparently there are even walking tours that take you to all the blue dots. This one showed that Yeats had lived there but apparently England has a very serious issue with suicide and in an effort to deter people from glorifying the terrible act, they do not broadcast suicides on the news and did not include Plath's residency at the house. we then climbed to the top of Primrose Hill for the most beautiful view of the London skyline and where my camera promptly lost batteries. exxxxcellent.

we then split off into "the group that wanted to see a neat little secret-ish garden in the park" and "the group that was too tired and hungry to join them." i think you can guess which group I was in, and if you can't it starts with a "potato wedges" and ends with a "green beans and a hard-boiled egg." after dinner I then made what was to become the unfortunate decision to go with half the group back to Leicester Square to the jumbo movie theater to see "The Prince of Persia." it cost 14pounds (about $22), we sat in cramped seats lined with cheetah print, and munched on overpriced candy that quickly caused minor to elevated cases of "need to go to the bathroom NOW!" not to mention, it was starring british and american caucasian actors with english accents playing persians. how awkard. i would consider this one of the top 10 worst movies of all time. do not, under any circumstances, attempt to make any effort to see this movie. even if it's free, do not watch it. even if it's for CHARITY, don't even try. it was the worst. thanks a lot, Walt Disney, for the worst 2 hours of my life. what i would give to have been in the group that stayed.

so all in all the day was a little more tame than yesterday. and look, ma, 2 days without alcohol! woahhh. i should also mention that i made my first clothing purchase: a regent's college long-sleeved polo! for only 3pounds75p. gooooood shit :)

cheers! and goodnight, CK.