So I've got a lot of work to do. It's actually not even close to being funny how much stuff needs to be done before Friday but I need a minute to collect my thoughts and I figured I haven't posted in easily two weeks, so I'll collect here with you all.
I've got two essays to finish up by Friday at 3. Sheesh. School is lame.
St. Patrick's Day today. I don't have time to give the day it's due diligence but we're going to have a drink somewhere tonight because I do need a drink after the past four days I've had. I had writing constipation and couldn't get my history essay to come out. It was like trying to pull an elephant with floss. I've gotten most of the work done but I had to stop or else I would start stalking the halls with a sawed off shotgun. Luckily, my friend told me to just take a step back and come back to it later. So that's what I'm doing.
Other than that, on Friday I'm heading into Manchester to spend the weekend with Danielle. Her boyfriend is flying out to China that day and then her mom is flying in on the Sunday so she decided to spend the weekend in Manchester to collect her mom and I'm tagging along so she isn't alone. We're actually spending a day in York which should be really nice. I'm looking forward to just doing nothing. The weather is finally starting to feel like something other than shit winter. It's 50 degrees today! The sun is actually hanging around and isn't getting muscled out by clouds.
After this weekend there will only be one week until Dave comes and we jet set out to Italy! I'm so excited to have him here. I can't even say. And in Italy no less. I'm not even worried about the flight (though that could be due to the fact that I don't have the brain capacity to worry about my essays AND a flight over a week away). But still, I'm taking it as a good sign. I've decided I'll have next week to worry about class work for the summer term (I've got an essay due the first week back) and then I'll be carefree with Dave for two weeks before coming back and having a serious sit down with some Modernist literature.
Anyway, I've got to get back to work (even if my head is threatening to explode). I miss you all so much. I didn't realize it until people's friends and family started to show up (Danielle's boyfriend's here and Alyssa's sister is coming soon).
Listen to Falling Into Reverie
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
Bathing in History
I spent the weekend in Bath and Stonehenge with a few other International friends of mine. It was a fantastic weekend for the most part. Bath is a beautiful city that has been featured in many films so you may have already seen Bath and not even known it! It has most recently been in The Dutchess with Keira Knightly and Ralph Fiennes. I saw it on the plane ride over here ironically enough. Most of the buildings are made from this beautiful, honey colored stone. Other than the beautiful architecture, the claim to fame for Bath is the Roman baths. Yes, Roman my friends. I saw some amazing Roman ruins. The baths are naturally occurring hot springs. The water was wonderfully warm. I didn't get into the baths (there was a sign that said the water wasn't safe to touch, let along drink-Yikes!) but I did dip my fingers in the water like a rebel.
After the Roman baths, we saw the Fashion Museum where all the pretty clothes from past decades are housed. I wanted to steal the dresses from 1925 and 1945 but I didn't. I did learn two things though: 1) Queen Victoria was a short and stout woman. 2) One should never underestimate the creepiness of mannequins. Especially in clothes from the 1980s.
Stonehenge was amazing. Lots of people have said to me, "What's the big deal? It's just a bunch of rocks." On the one hand, yes it's just rocks. But really it's more than that. The big question has always been how did they get there. The rocks were from a quarry in Wales, several hundred miles away. As Eddie Izzard joked from the perspective of someone in that time period, "Two hundred miles? I don't even know where I live anymore!" Funny but potentially true.
Really though, that's not even the best part of Stonehenge. Sure the mystery adds to it all. Mostly though, it's just the atmosphere of the whole place. It was beautiful in a sense that I've never experienced before. Stonehenge is surrounded by plains, a few roads, a car park for all the visitors, and sheep of course. Despite all this and all the people, standing up on the hill with Stonehenge, I felt completely overcome by nature. The air smelled clean for once, like the ways I've always imagined it would be. I mean, sure I've gotten glimpses of clean air before, but it's always fleeting because a big SUV just rumbled past filling the air with exhaust or Smokey McGee just walked in front of me. At Stonehenge, everything had a level a quiet to it that I've never experienced. It could have been because there was so much wind I just couldn't hear everyone else around me properly but whatever the case, it was definitely an experience.
Beyond that, I've just been thinking/beginning to conceptualize my essays that are due in two weeks. I was in my seminar today, talking about D.H Lawrence (actually I was listening to others talk about him) and I had a sort of epiphany if you will. My seminar leader kept referring to "Lawrentian ideals and conventions." It used to be my dream that I would be a good enough writer to be taught and discussed at universities around the world. Now, not only does it seem completely implausible to happen, I wouldn't want it that way. I've discovered, in a very sad but unfortunately honest way, that my time at Mizzou/in university has stifled my desire to be a writer. I still enjoy reading and writing but I don't desire to "write the next best American novel" or something that will define the period of literature that we are currently in. I don't know if it's because I doubt my abilities or if I'm just too practical now for these illusions of grandeur; whatever the reason, I'm not into it anymore. Like I mentioned in my last post, I'm thinking about baking school. I'm interested in baking as a method to make others and, by proxy, myself happy in a completely different sense. I think it is a much more immediate sense of happiness. I will have something tangible to hold on to as evidence of my success. But perhaps more importantly, I will have the intangible as well. I can't think of a more simple kind of happiness than when someone enjoys a baked good.
I don't know where all this is coming from. It's just something I'm beginning to feel. Who knows if I'm just talking a bunch of crap to somehow elevate the role of a baker in our society. Maybe I'm just spouting all this off to make myself feel better about the death of my oldest dream. No, that is too strong of a sentiment. I can't say that it's dead. In fact, it's foolish to even think so. I still want to write something worth while. Maybe I'm just realizing that my prose probably won't be on par with people like D.H. Lawrence or James Joyce. I don't know whether that's okay or not. I'm going to say it is.
After the Roman baths, we saw the Fashion Museum where all the pretty clothes from past decades are housed. I wanted to steal the dresses from 1925 and 1945 but I didn't. I did learn two things though: 1) Queen Victoria was a short and stout woman. 2) One should never underestimate the creepiness of mannequins. Especially in clothes from the 1980s.
Stonehenge was amazing. Lots of people have said to me, "What's the big deal? It's just a bunch of rocks." On the one hand, yes it's just rocks. But really it's more than that. The big question has always been how did they get there. The rocks were from a quarry in Wales, several hundred miles away. As Eddie Izzard joked from the perspective of someone in that time period, "Two hundred miles? I don't even know where I live anymore!" Funny but potentially true.
Really though, that's not even the best part of Stonehenge. Sure the mystery adds to it all. Mostly though, it's just the atmosphere of the whole place. It was beautiful in a sense that I've never experienced before. Stonehenge is surrounded by plains, a few roads, a car park for all the visitors, and sheep of course. Despite all this and all the people, standing up on the hill with Stonehenge, I felt completely overcome by nature. The air smelled clean for once, like the ways I've always imagined it would be. I mean, sure I've gotten glimpses of clean air before, but it's always fleeting because a big SUV just rumbled past filling the air with exhaust or Smokey McGee just walked in front of me. At Stonehenge, everything had a level a quiet to it that I've never experienced. It could have been because there was so much wind I just couldn't hear everyone else around me properly but whatever the case, it was definitely an experience.
Beyond that, I've just been thinking/beginning to conceptualize my essays that are due in two weeks. I was in my seminar today, talking about D.H Lawrence (actually I was listening to others talk about him) and I had a sort of epiphany if you will. My seminar leader kept referring to "Lawrentian ideals and conventions." It used to be my dream that I would be a good enough writer to be taught and discussed at universities around the world. Now, not only does it seem completely implausible to happen, I wouldn't want it that way. I've discovered, in a very sad but unfortunately honest way, that my time at Mizzou/in university has stifled my desire to be a writer. I still enjoy reading and writing but I don't desire to "write the next best American novel" or something that will define the period of literature that we are currently in. I don't know if it's because I doubt my abilities or if I'm just too practical now for these illusions of grandeur; whatever the reason, I'm not into it anymore. Like I mentioned in my last post, I'm thinking about baking school. I'm interested in baking as a method to make others and, by proxy, myself happy in a completely different sense. I think it is a much more immediate sense of happiness. I will have something tangible to hold on to as evidence of my success. But perhaps more importantly, I will have the intangible as well. I can't think of a more simple kind of happiness than when someone enjoys a baked good.
I don't know where all this is coming from. It's just something I'm beginning to feel. Who knows if I'm just talking a bunch of crap to somehow elevate the role of a baker in our society. Maybe I'm just spouting all this off to make myself feel better about the death of my oldest dream. No, that is too strong of a sentiment. I can't say that it's dead. In fact, it's foolish to even think so. I still want to write something worth while. Maybe I'm just realizing that my prose probably won't be on par with people like D.H. Lawrence or James Joyce. I don't know whether that's okay or not. I'm going to say it is.
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