Belated birthday (at the ) big bang...and a bonus moment.

There has not been a whole heck of a lot happening 'round the Ox lately. This term is a little packed, work wise, so my life is pretty much theoryessayreadoptionbooks123456and7writeminioptionessaydodissertationresearchrevisetheory essayreadmoreoptionbooksandCRASH.

So I don't get out a lot. But there are some pretty fab people bashing around these days and we collectively decided that if we don't do something fun every once in awhile, it's about to get all revenge of the nerds up in here, aka grad students gone wild. Not like that.

A few of us had birthdays over the term break so a group of us from Kellogg + women's studies went out for a belated birthday dinner at renowned Oxford eatery, the Big Bang. To be honest I don't know if it's really all that renowned but they sure do a good job at making it seem like there's a lot of hype around them. The Big Bang is a bangers and mash (sausage and mashed potatoes) restaurant and has about a gazillion types of each, ranging from their "less delicious varieties" (I swear they said that on the menu) to gourmet items like wild mushroom and garlic veggie sausages or wild boar and pigeon ones.

We started out happy, hoping it'd live up to the hype...

But got a little frustrated when it was the slowest.service.ever. Seriously. Notice that I am wielding a knife. I wasn't entirely kidding about that grad students gone wild thing.

The food did eventually come, though, and it was lovely. Clockwise from the top on my plate we've got one of the aforementioned mushroom and garlic sausages, some purple (red?) cabbage; peas; pheasant sausage; lamb and mint sausage; creamy mash and a red wine gravy.

Whitney enjoyed her veggie sausages when they appeared at long last.

And then there was the piece de resistance, Shirley's and my (not Shirley and I's, not mine and Shirley's. you would never say I's birthday cake, or mine birthday cake, so why would the rule suddenly change because one other person is added? Some folks seem to be troubled by joint possessives) birthday cake, Bob the hedgehog.

I loved Bob. He was so roly-poly, so fully of jollity...he was also made of chocolate. So we ate him.

Bob, a part of you will always be with me...until, you know, it isn't.

I couldn't help but feel a little guilty with him there, staring up so happily, so expectantly, waiting for us to go frolic in a field or whatever hedgehogs do. But he was delicious.

Which brings me to....your bonus moment.

I frequently have "sometimes, in oxford..." moments or "you know you're in oxford when..." moments, and post them every once in awhile. Today's is:

You know you're in Oxford when....

The bit of toilet reading left in your shared bathroom is...

The 150th anniversary version of Darwin's origin of species.

Sorry for outing whichever housemate possesses such intellectual bathroom reading material...it was just too hilarious a moment not to capture. I'm not mocking the choice (okay, maybe a little), but you know, I don't get down with Darwin because Sarah Palin told me that evolution is fake and Jesus rode dinosaurs.

You betcha.

Happy New Year from the ox

Hello, everyone, and happy 2010!

It's cuh-razy that a whole decade's passed since the y2k fiasco. So much has changed in the past ten years with a lot of firsts--driving, voting, loves, college, jobs--and though god only knows what lays in store for the next ten, it's pretty safe to say that a lot will change again--another graduation, hopefully a proper job...and what else?

Anyway, we forge forth into the new decade from what was, for the majority of the past two weeks here, a very snowy Oxford.


It started snowing the night after I returned, thankfully after I'd sorted out errands and groceries and necessities for hibernation.



And the city was just under a blanket of snow. That's a sizable amount, even by michigan eskimo standards.





Funny thing about snow in England: it doesn't happen, which means that when it DOES happen, the country goes batshit crazy and just shuts down. For ten days. The colleges, the libraries, the shops , the schools...everything just stopped. It took several days for the main roads to reach some semblance of being cleared, and our road just never got plowed at all. Which brings me to...





the sidewalks (it has nothing to do with the pictures presented, just a bit of dramatic pause).
NO ONE CLEARS THE SIDEWALKS. It is utterly absurd. Apparently, unless you're going to return the sidewalk to its original pre-snow condition, with no remnants of snow or ice, you better just not bother at all. You CAN be sued for making an incomplete attempt (the assertion is that it's worse to walk on partially cleared sidewalks than never cleared), but if someone falls on your walk and you've never so much as laid eyes on a shovel, you're good.

End rant. Wacko reasons aside, this made it incredibly hard to navigate the streets even after the worst of the snow was over. Most of us just stayed inside for about ten days, venturing out only when absolutely necessary (i.e. ran out of provisions). Myself, I lounged about in my red snowflake flannel pajamas and busted through the entire series of West Wing.


Oh, but the day after it snowed and the entire country was shut down, I ventured out with my friend Ella and her cohort of teacher friends who were all off school, and we went to the University Parks, which were absolutely packed with snow-crazy Brits bulding snowmen (and just big balls of snow) and having snowball fights. It was pretty endearing how excited everyone was, actually, and how they all took to the streets like kids on a snow day to play in it, because at home it takes so much to actually shut EVERYTHING down that I don't think I've ever seen something like this, grown adults acting like giddy children on a city-wide scale.

Now, though, the snow has melted (in a period of about two days, surprisingly), the grass is green and temperatures are in the high 30's to mid 40's. I am perfectly content for this to be our winter weather.

Okay, friends, I've just given you a giant weather report, which should tell you how much I've really been up to since I've been back. What a gripping life I do lead.

My few, paltry activities have included aforementioned snow playing and West Wing marathon (is there something more intense than a marathon? it seems like a weekend stint would be a marathon, but 10 days warrants a bit more), a few social events with class and college friends, and a LOT of theory paper writing that I fully and reproachfully neglected over break (but I'm not even a little bit sorry). Pretty good, actually, just really unproductive. Again, I remain unapologetic.

Things to look forward to in 2010:

--Women and Politics option course--yes, this is a moment of nerdery but I'm excited to have a class on something I really like (no offense, rubbish feminist theory and methods course, both of which sucked more because of how they were run than the actual subject matter) with a supervisor who seems promising. Plus this is my ONLY class, which meets for one hour four times total. So not a lot of class time (but don't worry, there will be a lot of independent work on option readings, essays, the 10,000 word option paper, and oh yeah, the minor matter of the dissertation, whose deadline looms ominously on the ever advancing horizon)

--Gil's visit Feb 13-20, including Valentine's day in London and some quality time here at school.

--Duane and Becky's visit Feb 27-March 6, including a trip to Dublin, a few days in Ox, and some day trips around England if we can swing it.

--Heroes and villains bop, Feb 1. I'm thinking of resurrecting the sarah palin costume/persona, and leaving it ambiguous if she is my hero or villain (probably because it's a complicated answer).

and lots of others.

That's it for now. Oh, and happy one year obama-versary tomorrow!

xoxoxobama,

Amanda

Michelmas wrap-up

I blinked and Michelmas term was over. And I hadn't posted since mid-November. So I present to you, lovely reader(s? I won't be presumptuous), a wrap up in 15 pictures or less.

1. Kellogg housemates and I continued our sunday family dinners. Here's a photo from Michelle's night cooking. 3 authentic chinese dishes, which were both absolutely delicious and nothing like chinese food that i'd had in the states (shocker).

2. I got to meet Senator Russ Feingold at the oxford's American Institute. He gave a talk on the debate on American healthcare reform, which was in full force at the time, and I got to ask a question about the atrocious Stupak amendment. Then we chatted about Michigan football, or rather, my lack of knowledge about Michigan football.

3. Christmas time in Oxford is big. On the Friday after thanksgiving the town hosted a tree-lighting ceremony and lanterns parade through the streets of Oxford. It's definitely geared towards families with children, but our inner children enjoyed the evening quite a bit.

4. Another shot from Christmas light night. Paper lanterns, carried by children through the town.

5. Made a new BFF, Justice Sandra Day O'Connor, first woman appointed to the Supreme Court and total badass. She gave a lecture about differences between American and British justice systems, then answered (and evaded) some questions. The American society drew my name from a lottery for a drinks reception with the Justice afterwards, so you know, Sandra and I bonded over a glass of wine. Actually, she drank a glass of wine, but I had to put my glass down because my hands were shaking. Minorly terrifying encounter, but in an adrenaline pumping, I'm-shaking-hands-with-history kind of way.



6. SDO take two. Delivering her lecture with a piercing gaze.

7. Kellogg had a Christmas tea with carols and, apparently, a slightly bossy Christmas fairy. All in good fun.

8. Christmas tea, take two. Shirley, Julia and Lilit are three ballers ballin' (and a partridge in a pear tree).

9. On the last day of term(ish), Julia hosted a christmas party, complete with a baked goods bonanza, impromptu caroling, and mulled wine. And cupcakes that originally said "Happy Christmas", but you get the gist.

10. On the Sunday after term ended, we ventured to Blenheim Palace, birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill and baller crib. I made a friend there, as well.

Checking our lists twice.



11. The front of Blenheim palace. Not bad, right?



12. Our kellogg sunday dinner crew had a christmas party/secret santa gift exchange.

Note the gold crowns from our christmas crackers and everyone displaying their gifts (tilly's wearing the lovely scarf from her secret santa)



13. Right, and Shakira visited. Couldn't get a great picture of her, but we did wait two hours in the rain while the fools who run the union tried to sort out what was going on. Then she talked about puppies and rainbows or something like that.

14. And finally: the college christmas dinner.

The green thing on the left of the plate is a christmas cracker. you cross arms with the people next to you and each grab and end and pull. The thing explodes, and inside you find strange things like eyeglass strings, paper clips, or dice.

15. This is just a bit of cake, really. Happy very belated christmas, end Michelmas.

Midweek model/miniature madness

I love me some alliteration.

Last week, classmates Liz, Beth and Whitney and I ventured outside the increasingly small bounds of Oxford on a daytrip to Bourton-on-the-Water, a tiny village in the Cotswolds. We'd heard they have a model village within their village, and since everyone likes a bit of minature fun, we thought we'd use our free day to check it out. It is funny though, becaus apparently there are several model villages throughout Europe, which is sort of the opposite of how we do in the US with things like worlds largest ball of twine, etc.

I don't think this requires excessive narration, so we'll let the pictures and captions take you through it. As ever, full photos and comments on facebook.

Bourton-on-the-water, the "Venice of the Cotswolds"...because they have a river with some bridges.

Pretty river.

Pub food for lunch! Whitney, Liz and Beth are ready to dig in.

My food. I got a shrimp scampi, chips and peas. And a weird little salad-y garnish thing.

Part of the model village.

To be an accurate model, the model village needed a model village within it. And the model within the model needed a model. And the model within the model within the model...until your brain explodes.

Fearsome womonsters.

Big person, little bridge.

Super whitney, leaping rivers in a single bound. We obviously just turned the model village into our playground and stage for a photo shoot.

There was also this museum of miniatures, many of which were pretty pervy and at a kid's eye level. This one is of the old cuckold coming home Scotland to find his missus in bed with another. Who dove under the bed backwards? And with with the bottle of wine.

Creeeepy little dolls in the school yard setting.

it was a pretty straightforward trip. Good, clean (except for the minatures) tiny fun. It left us all jumping for joy:

London bridge is... not in london.

I went to London at last! Actually, it was last month, but I've just been too lazy to write an update about it.

The lovely Alison was in town for work, and since she'd already travelled across an ocean, it was the least I could do to make the short trip to London from the Ox. London is only about 60 miles from Oxford, but the trip--with the slow pace of Oxford's streets (the medieval design is obviously not car-friendly), the many stops the bus made, and the London traffic--took about two and a half hours.

The bus dropped me off near the hotel, but since I was working off of a relatively small google map and its shoddy directions (the google directions have proved highly unreliable since I've been in the UK, and I keep ending up in crazy places), I wandered around for nearly an hour before finding my hotel, oh, three blocks from where I started. I made the climb to the fourth floor (I keep finding myself living at the top of lots of stairs, which I'm taking as a universal push to get in shape), and found my room:


Aww yeah. I liked that it was about the size of a closet and every thing was pretty basic...but they made sure there was a tea kettle and cup in the room because we are in the UK, after all.

Shortly thereafter I grabbed a cab to the West End, where I'd booked a last minute ticket to see Avenue Q. The cabbie was chatty and hilarious, telling me about how his grandfather had been hairdresser to the stars in the days of old hollywood glamour. But then when he started telling me all kinds of other stories about how he knows all these famous people who do him favo(u)rs all the time, I became a bit dubious about the validity of his stories. But really, who cares?

Anyway: Avenue Q. It struck me as strange to see an American show set in brooklyn while I was in London, but you know, whatev. I knew all the music already and had seen several of the numbers on youtube videos, but I had a great time singing along and seeing the little bits of the story that didn't make it onto the internet.

The only other thing I have to say about that experience was that some of the actors' faux-American accents were WEIRD. One guy in particular had some hybrid of texan-brooklyn-minnesotan strangeness going on that was pretty distracting (and unlike anything I've ever heard before), and it made me wonder if that's what he hears when he listens to Americans speak. It was just funny because I really hate bad british accents done by americans, but I'd never heard bad (BAD BAD) american accents done by brits. Good to know it works both ways.

Outside the Gielgud theatre.

The next day I had most of the day to wander around town until I was supposed to meet Alison at 5. So I had breakfast at a cafe just around the corner from my hotel, then meandered through Kensington gardens and Kensington palace until I reached the other side, around Albert Hall and the Royal Albert Memorial.



In the gardens near Kensington Palace...maybe waiting for Prince Harry, who sometimes hangs out there? But let's not kid, folks: his brother is way yummier.


Part of the Albert Memorial... it might be nice to be important enough that the world commemorates your life with gold statues.


I made my way to the Museum of Natural History, where I chilled with the dinos, then headed to the Victoria and Albert (there he is again) museum, where I checked out an exhibit on fashion over the past few centuries. Realizing that a) my feet hurt, b) I still had several hours until I was supposed to meet Alison and c) I hadn't had enough musical theatre (because really, can you ever?), I high tailed it back to the West End & got last minute tickets to Oliver, which served as the very british antidote to the previous evening's very american show.



You are so not supposed to take photos inside the theatre. Too bad.

More west end. Hey, mj.



Then it was off to Harrod's at long last. After what seemed like an eternity wandering around the behemoth that is that store, Alison and I found each other and had high tea. It was good food and tea, and so, so nice to see a someone from home.


Fancy china

High tea happiness

We polished off about half the food before we could be bothered to snap a photo.

Annnd that was about it. I didn't see big ben or the london eye or parliament or anything like that because a) obnoxious touristy things are definitely not as fun to do alone and b) I expect that I will have visitors (so book your effin tickets) who'll want to do those things with me in the coming months. Headed to London next weekend, actually, for the Reclaim the Night rally there, and I think we'll go down early to check out some of the markets, etc, beforehand.

That's it for now. I started this nearly an hour ago thinking I'd do a couple quick updates because I'm so far behind. So next time, I'll be shorter-winded. I'll leave you with a rather apt message from the folks at Oliver:

xx,

Amanda