a Canterbury tale

	Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote,
	The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
	And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
	Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
	Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
	Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
	The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
	Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
	And smale foweles maken melodye,
	That slepen al the nyght with open eye-
	So priketh hem Nature in hir corages-
	Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
	And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes
	To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
	And specially, from every shires ende Of Engelond, to Caunturbury they wende, The hooly blisful martir for the seke That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke

Cathedral and St. Augustine Abbey ruins

If you don't know already, those are the first lines from Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales. I had to memorize these first lines in Middle English and recite them in a class I took on the 14th Century, and it was actually really fun. (If you've never heard anyone read these lines in the Middle English before, I've included the youtube video at the bottom of the page.) For the few of you who don't speak Middle English, here's the gist: Once spring comes along in April, and the weather starts getting really nice, people grow a little antsy and start thinking about leaving the house and going on a pilgrimage. A lot of those people, from all over England, head out to Canterbury to visit the cathedral where St. Thomas a Beckett was martyred. And there you have it.

Today I joined in that very long tradition of pilgrims to the shrine in the Canterbury Cathedral.  Just like Chaucer explains, once the weather turns nice and the warm breezes blow I get antsy and feel compelled to leave the city, enjoy the clean country air, and visit some cathedrals.  Today was the loveliest day I could have chosen for such a pilgrimage.  My journey was actually quite short. Since I took the fast train from London, it was only a 50 minute, rather comfortable and boring, pilgrimage.  There certainly wasn't enough time to tell any tales (and I was alone anyway), but I did enjoy the beautiful countryside.

papers, travel and melancholia

This week has been a good week.  The paper got done, with an hour to spare, and even though I hate it, it was accepted to be presented at the Popular Culture Association/ American Culture Association National Conference this April in San Antonio.  On Wednesday I registered for the conference and booked a nice, inexpensive hotel room in San Antonio and found some really cheap plane tickets that will take me from London to Utah, Utah to Texas and Texas back to London for only $980.  Incredible.  I also applied for funding with my school for the conference, and I should hear back about that in about 3 weeks.

So that's pretty much set to go.  I'll be leaving for Utah on March 31 and I'll be back in London just in time for the Royal Wedding and research juries.  I haven't bought the tickets yet because I am a little worried about taking that much time off before the juries, which will decide whether or not I can be upgraded from the MPhil to a PhD.  But this is where I am extremely grateful for that wedding because it sounds like the juries will have to be pushed back, hopefully more than a week.  

This week I also started classes. One is a research methods class, and I found out that I have to give a presentation on my somewhat non-existent research on February 8th.  My other class is about melancholy, how it shows up and what it means in culture.  We had a somewhat interesting discussion on this etching by Albrect Durer called "Melancholia I" (no one has ever found "Melancholia II" or "Melancholia III", but it's supposed that this might have been part of a series originally)

The image is of a very heavy, weighed down angel, solemnly musing with a darkened face and curious bits lying around it.  Apparently some German art historians spent decades trying to figure out what it all means. I think the satisfying conclusion is basically that melancholy is not a useless state of being, but a noble state, especially for the scholar and philosopher.  It's a balanced paradoxical state, as evidenced by many of the images in the etching:  the angel with wings who is too heavy to fly, the unringing bell, the hourglass with equal amounts of sand in each half (time that has stopped), the starved dog at rest (the dog was often a symbol of lust, apparently, which was also associated with melancholy, and yet here he is docile and conquered).  It is an image of paradoxical movement and stasis, and I guess that's what melancholy is.  I don't know, that's basically what I got out of the hour long lecture.  I'm excited for next week because we'll be talking about the Gothic, which is kind of my thing. 

I'm really struggling right now with my own research.  The idea I had originally is not proving very fruitful, and I keep discovering book that have done all the things I thought to do.  I'm stuck and I'm falling into that overwhelmed state where I'd rather sit and stare at a wall than spend a day reading a book that might end up being useless to me.  I'm scared of wasting time when I'm doing the research, so I'd rather do nothing.  Plus I might not be as interested in the topic as I thought I was.  I'd rather be doing anything than reading WWI history.  It might be time for a refocus, but it might also be too late for one. 

On a final note, Stephen Fry has been making a documentary and tweeting his locations, which for the last week have been in my neighborhood. Alas, all of my attempts to find him, including a sprint to the British Museum this morning, have been fruitless.  Maybe I'll get lucky this week.  I've been listening to his The Ode Less Traveled, a book about writing poetry.  He has exercises in the book that have been very challenging and fun, and I'm hoping it will help me think more creatively.

happy new time

It's a new year! And with new years comes new plans and new goals and a whole new feeling of life. Or it should, and it usually does for a few days. But it is now day 5 of the new year and it doesn't feel much different from the old year in many respects.

I spent the end of the old year in Germany with my best friend, traveling around in the frigid temperature, splurging on dinners and chocolate and spas, and I've returned with no money. It was a good time, except for the fact that I was ill throughout most of it. A cough turned into a cold half way through and I could hardly keep my itchy watery eyes open the three days we were in Munich. At the time I didn't think I was having much fun, but I miss it now. I miss being with my best friend who makes me laugh and smile and who loves me. I miss the expensive dinners and the chocolate too. I don't miss the cold however, and I think we probably could have had just as nice of a time in a warmer climate.

I was very happy to come back to London. The weather has been nice the last couple of days, and it's London for crying out loud. I always forget that I live here. There's still so much I haven't seen yet of this place, but I'm kind of holding out for warmer weather and a little more money in my pocket before I make too many excursions. I can't wait to see London

in the spring.

For now I'm trying to write a paper, and not doing a very good job of it. I'm not sure if I like my topic, and the research I'm doing isn't sparking any new and interesting insights. I am slightly worried because I submitted this paper topic for the Popular Culture Association conference in April, and it got accepted. Also I need to try to impress my professors so that they'll help me figure out a way to finance another 2 years so I can finish the PhD. I'm a little stressed out, and I haven't really written anything these three days. Tomorrow will be it though. Tomorrow will be the day of writing and I'll get 2000 words done. we'll see.

I've been reading blogs and people do such a good job of making their lives sound fun and interesting. How can I do that? I thought maybe I should just have a more fun and interesting life, but then I realized that it doesn't matter as long as I can make it look fun and interesting. Sort of like one my friends who always said that the pictures of our adventures made us look like such fun people, even though we didn't really feel that fun. Enthusiasm is the trick, you see. So my number one goal this year is to be more enthusiastic, and to blog enthusiastically about my boring life. Maybe if I do that I'll start seeing my life as not boring but totally awesome. I have an inkling that it actually is kind of cool.

Want some pictorial evidence? Here ya go:

That's me on Christmas day in Rothenburg, a beautiful little city in Germany. It was cold and snowy but very picturesque and lovely. That's neat, right?

Here I am eating lunch at the Schloss Nymphenburg palace. That was kind of cool. I ate venison that the waitress called Bambi (she forgot the English word). mmm Bambi.

the ubiquitous Christmas curfuffle

It's been a weird week. On Saturday it snowed and snowed and snowed. The airport couldn't handle it so it shut down and people have been stranded at Heathrow ever since. I've been obsessed with the weather because I'm supposed to fly to Germany on Friday morning, which means I haven't really done much on my essay that's due after the break. To be honest I haven't really done much of anything.

Everything feels odd right now, right on the cusp of Christmas. There's a lot of stress in the air, especially by the British Library, which is right next to the main international train station. There's a queue wrapped around the block, people waiting to get on a train to get home for Christmas. There's also people stressing over the holiday in general. People trying to get to parties, trying to buy gifts, trying to stay happy. There isn't really a lighthearted Christmas cheer in the air, but there is a quiet perseverance, a stubborn resolve to stay cheerful for the holidays. That's admirable, really. Maybe that's what the true meaning if Christmas is: a stubborn resolve to make it through to the New Year.

It's an amazingly difficult time of year. The weather is at its worst right when most people want to travel. Everyone is sick (including me. I've had this stupid annoying cough since Saturday). No one has any money, and yet we're all expected to buy gifts for the people we love. People who are alone feel especially lonely. And yet we're supposed to try our very hardest to stay Christmassy. In an article for the Observer, David Mitchell, one of my favorite comedy actors/writers, comments on this issue I think rather astutely:

Santa knows I'm not the first person to say this but the problem with the mass-produced goodwill of the modern Christmas, where we're constantly wished happiness by carrier bags, receipts, coffee cups and TV channel idents, is that it can feel like a denial of all the things we're fed up or angry about. Charities exhort us to "think of those less fortunate than ourselves" while corporations rub our noses in goodies only affordable by those more fortunate. We're expected to endure stressful family gatherings and gruelling catering tribulations and count ourselves lucky in the process.

It's a tricky thing to do, and I'm not sure why yet we do it. Well, I'm trying my damnedest to stay Christmassy and cheerful, even though I'm freaking out about my trip falling through, not seeing my best friend, and losing all the money I've put into it. Saturday and Sunday were Part A and Part B of a nice Christmas party. We got full, had loads of leftovers on Saturday and so decided to come back on Sunday and finish it all up. The only downside to the weekend was that horrible storm on Saturday. I was out in the snow for 2 hours, not wearing enough clothes, not having an umbrella and getting completely soaked through. Someone smacked me in the face with their umbrella, I got lost, the plans I had made for the afternoon fell through. All of that was pretty stressful and I don't think I was able to flip my mood around and be super happy the rest of the evening.

I remember at one point, however, when I was finally on the homestretch to my friend's apartment, trudging through the snow, I thought "This what Christmas has always been about: trudging through the snow, being cold and miserable, on the way to a warm house full of friendly faces. People have been doing this for hundreds of years, I can do it now."

Another attempt to stay cheery may have worked a little better. I got the last two tickets to see the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra play a Christmas concert last night, and it was just delightful. The music was lovely, the company was lovely, the dinner before hand was super tasty. I finally got to see Harrods all lit up and pretty and I got to see a part of town I haven't seen yet. The concert was really fun, and it was partly a sing-a-long which I just love. It ended up being a really nice, Christmassy evening.

The next few days are probably not going to be so cheery. Fortunately, it looks as if the airports and airlines are finally getting back on track. Lufthansa Flight 921, the same one I'll be taking on Friday, was not cancelled today and actually arrived before schedule in Frankfurt. It looks as if all the Lufthansa flights are going, so that's very promising. The one thing I am worried about now is that the flight leaves at 6:20, and the earliest I can get to the airport by train is 5:00 am, which I think would have been enough time if there weren't 60,000 stranded people milling about the place like zombies. So, if my flight is confirmed, I think the best thing would be to take the tube out there on Thursday night. This is going to suck really bad, but I have to give myself plenty of time to get through the whole mess. The crappiest part of that plan is that I'm getting sick and have already not been sleeping much the last few nights because of a cough. Well, I guess today I'll be cold medicine shopping.

As far as doing anything else today, I don't think I will. I'll just carry on as if I'm flying on Friday and get all packed and ready to go. If I do decided to take the tube out tomorrow night and I'm all ready, I have a ticket for a screening of Scott Pilgrim with a Q&A with Edgar Wright. That's in Brixton at 8, and it might be good to have something distracting and fun for a couple of hours. I can do that, come home and get my stuff and head to the airport.

So there you have it. The ubiquitous Christmas curfuffle. I noticed last night some of the original lyrics to "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" were interesting: "Someday soon we all will be together, if the fates allow, until then we'll have to muddle through somehow." And so that's what I wish for all of you, may you muddle through this Holiday Season with as much stubborn resolve as possible. We'll get through it, it will be over soon. I promise.

now that's Brighton, not Bath

This last week my friend Sara and I decided to go to Bath to see a play done by her favorite theatre company. She was busy during the day on Saturday so we left around 2pm. It took 2 hours to get there and by the time we did all of the things to do and see in the city were closed. I didn't get to go into the abbey church, which was one of my favorite buildings to study when I did gothic stuff, we didn't get to go into the Roman baths or any of the museums or anything. Fortunately we could do a tour of the bell tower of the church and there was a Christmas market going on in the church square that we could hang out and walk around in before the play at 8pm.

So I asked Sara if she knew where the theatre was yet, and she said she hadn't looked it up and figured we could ask someone. So she pulled out the tickets and they said, "Brighton Ballroom, Brighton UK". "uhhhh..." I said. "Are we in the wrong city?" Indeed we were in the wrong city. We ran to the nearest internet cafe we could find and discovered that Brighton would be a 4 hour train ride away from Bath and we would miss the whole play altogether. So we tried to make the most of it. We at dinner and walked around the little city like 6 times, tried to do a little shopping at the Christmas market, and finally found a carousel, which isn't the worst thing to find on a cold winters night. The lights were cheering, and it was fun.

We eventually got on a train around 9pm and got home just after 11, and even though I was cold and tired I didn't get to bed until 2:30. I don't really want to blog about it, but I should note that I had a conversation that night that probably changed my whole future. Isn't it interesting when you want something so much, and you pray for it and hope and work for it, and imagine just what life will be like when you get it, and then when you don't get it you're entirely relieved? That's happened to me twice this week, and I've really never felt so unfettered and hopeful in my whole life. Even though I lost something and that makes me sad, something better is going to come along, and I know that in my heart.

I also realized a very important thing last week: I am in a research program. I should be doing more research. Stupid realisation, I know, but it might just make everything different. I struggled so much with my last paper because I felt like I hadn't got enough from my course, but really I just hadn't done enough research. One of my professors said the other day that it's not what you know, but how well you can find what you need to know. I need to take that to heart. So today I'm going to try to get entirely caught up with my course reading so that I can start getting ideas and move out to do the research that will lead me to an excellent paper.

Go and dance yourself clean

It's been a slightly eventful week. I didn't have any classes so it was technically a vacation week and I managed to get some fun stuff worked in there. On Wednesday my Only London Friend (or OLF) and I went to see LCD Soundsystem. It actually turned into quite a little adventure, and it was my first time out of my Zone on the Tube (and I did it wrong so it cost me like 8 pounds in fees). OLF had class until 6 and the show started at 7 and so I met up with her at her school, then we got some delicious Chinese take out (I got the roasted duck on rice, of course) and headed to Crouch End and the Alexandra Palace. When we got there, there was seriously a mile long queue. I have never seen a line so long in my life. I decided to walk to the front to see if I could find a different line for picking up my tickets and I walked and walked and walked, leaving poor OLF behind. (Ha, ok, I'm sorry Sara, if you're reading this, I'll stop calling you OLF. I just thought it was really funny. It's probably not.) Anyway, FINALLY we got in, right in the middle of Hot Chip's set. Sara and I immediately started dancing and didn't stop until the end of LCD Soundsystem's set, but we decided to leave before the encores since there were probably 20,000 people there and we wanted to make sure we got on the bus before everyone else decided to go. I figured since this was my third time seeing them that I'd live, and I did.

I really loved it and I will see them again if I ever get the chance. I love how much fun everyone has at their shows and how much you can dance and totally lose yourself. I love how their songs have a proper amount of tension leading up to a fantastic moment of release. It's euphoric, and I'm totally addicted. I think I liked this show better than the one in New York. They played all my favorite songs, and I was in GREAT company (instead of totally alone like the NY show). Sara seriously is the funnest person.

Also, I have a total crush on this guy. He is adorable in concert.

So the next day on Thursday I went to see a taping of the Graham Norton Show. It was supposed to be the highlight of my life and it turned out to be rather meh. No one makes me laugh like Graham Norton, and so even though the guests sucked, I thought I'd still have fun. I just found out that Stephen Fry and Bette Midler will be on next weeks show and it broke my heart. I LOVE Stephen Fry like no one else. Instead I got stuck with Colin Ferrall (who told nothing but the most boring stories. He has no personality at all), Daniel Radcliffe (who was late and then really annoying, and just ugh) and then a comedian I've never heard of and then Rihanna, who was cute and everything, but I just genuinely don't care about her music. Also I had to stand outside in the freezing wind, and those who keep up with my Twitter area already familiar with the fact that I was not wearing the proper clothing for such an event. It was really really horrible. It hasn't been that cold or windy in London since I've been here. I honestly don't know if it was worth it.

Anyway, on my way to the show I saw this poster in the train station. It made me laugh, because it obviously does not work.

I don't think it does a very effective job of pushing polite behaviour because the Tube is still full of fools who refuse to budge from their convenient spot right next to the door and impede anyone from coming in or out of the train. In New York I seriously got yelled at for doing that one day when I wasn't paying attention. The poster is just too polite, and I think this one will work much better.

Fortunately at the Graham Norton show I was able to fight my way to the front of what had been a very long queue and had turned into a throng of people rushing the door, and I got the best of the worst seats!

HA! The suckers I had to push over to get to the door didn't get to be on the telly at all, but I DID!

So, since Wednesday and Thursday were exhausting I decided to stay in and work on my paper on Friday, and it didn't turn out well. Friday will be one of those days to forget forever.

Moving on, today I took my FIRST real train ride out of the city! I went with my ward to the London Temple. We took the train from Victoria Station to Lingfield and then a short taxi from the station to the temple. I mention this because it was also my FIRST time in a British taxi! And the first time ever driving on the wrong side of the road, and yes, it is the wrong side. Seriously, driving on the left side is totally counterintuitive, and it's the one cultural difference I'm having a hard time getting past, especially since I've almost got hit crossing the street several times because of it.

Anyway, the temple was lovely and I got to talk to more people from my ward, and hopefully made a couple of friends. I enjoyed myself immensely. Here's a picture of me and Sara in front of the temple. We stood a bit too far from the camera, so you can't really see us well, but that's ok because I didn't get a chance to shower this morning and was a bit of a mess.

And that's it for my week off of school! I start back up again on Tuesday and I'll be killing myself trying to get this paper done. I think i might have made some headway in brainstorming with my sister for a bit, but we'll see!

London calling

It's coming on a month since I blogged last, and even though this last month has probably been the craziest and most eventful in months, I haven't felt stable enough to sit down and write a blog. Or maybe I should say I haven't felt like I could give my full attention to such a task. Until right at this moment: the first time in nearly a month that I have been totally and completely by myself.

I had 2 goals I needed to accomplish this summer. The first was to live in New York and the second was to not pay rent for at least two months. New York: check. Being homeless: so far so good. Since I wrote last I have spent part of a week in a hostel in Boston, a night in a friends apartment in New York, part of a week in a lovely home in Maryland, a night in my old apartment in New York, a few nights on my sister's couch in Salt Lake, a couple of couches in Provo, a bed and a couch in Kamas, another few nights back in Salt Lake and now I am house sitting for a nice girl with a lovely cat while she enjoys a cruise. I'll be here for 2 weeks and then I'm back to couch surfing.

I kind of really don't mind this lifestyle. I don't mind living out of a suitcase and I don't mind sleeping on couches. The best part is that I haven't paid rent for a month now, and I'm getting paid to stay at this girl's house for the next two weeks. Sweet deal, yeah?

After the summer is over I'll hopefully be starting one of my biggest adventures yet: moving to London to do a PhD at the London Consortium (part of Birkbeck College) in Humanities and Cultural Studies. If I can find the money to go it will be a dream come true. Last week I had an interview over the phone with the professor I would be working with and they emailed me two hours later telling me of my acceptance. I honestly couldn't believe it. I was slightly worried about the interview because I could hardly understand the British accents over a speakerphone, and I was uncertain of a few of their questions, even though I tried to answer as if I did understand what they said. Thank goodness for the last 15 years of my life watching Beatles movies, Monty Python and Doctor Who, or I may have been completely lost in that interview.

Guys, I'm moving to LONDON!

Well, maybe. I hope. It depends on a lot of things that I'm working on right now. My goal is to get all the paper work figured out this weekend and send it all in on Monday.

I was looking at the courses I'll be taking this fall and I got all giddy and light headed just thinking about them. Here are some of the course titles: "Coldness: Toward a Political Thermodynamics of Culture", "Down: Meloncholy, Depression and Regeneration", and "Scratches, Traces, Spacings". Does that sound awesome or what?? Ok, maybe I shouldn't get too ahead of myself. I still have to raise thousands of dollars to go.

I was just thinking the other day that I didn't want to wait a year to go back to school and now I may not have to. It feels good to think that I don't have to put my goals on hold. I'm excited.

goodbye new york

Today is my last full day in New York City. Tomorrow I'm going to Boston for a few days, then I come back on Wednesday and leave again early the next morning for Baltimore. I get back from Baltimore on Monday and then fly home Tuesday morning. It's sure to be quite the week, especially with the 22 hours of travel time I'm set to endure.

So how did I spend my last day in New York City? I refused to leave my apartment. I watched a World Cup game, did laundry, packed, ate, and watched episodes of Merlin and the new Doctor Who. I might go out in a little while to get ice cream and say goodbye to this city, but who knows. I feel no remorse for staying in today. I rather enjoyed my time alone, and I had a hell of a time sleeping last night so I just wasn't feeling up for the fight that is going out into the city.

Yesterday was the perfect way to end my time here. I spent most of the day laying out in the sun at the beach, then I went and saw a CocoRosie concert that was pretty amazing. I seriously had to recover from it all today before I go to Boston. I have some great pictures from those two activities, but I seem to have lost my camera cord and so I can't upload them right now, but I will when I get back to Utah.

I'm not sad about leaving, but I feel bad that I don't feel more sad. Granted, I only spent about two months in New York, but that love/hate relationship with this place has stayed pretty balanced, and I'm excited to go back home. I think I have a better understanding of what home means now, and I'm glad that I have been fortunate enough to grow up attached to a certain piece of land called Utah, to have roots in a place. I recently finished reading The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton, a thoroughly depressing novel, and one that left me weeping, but there was one passage near the end that struck me and made me feel extremely grateful that I have a home to go back to.

That was the feeling that possessed her now--the feeling of being something rootless and ephemeral, mere spendthrift on the whirling surface of existence, without anything to which the poor little tentacles of self could cling before the awful flood submerged them. And as she looked back she saw that there had never been a time when she had had any real relation to life. Her parents too had been rootless, blown hither and thither on ever wind of fashion, without any personal existence to shelter them from its shifting gusts. She herself had grown up without any one spot of earth being dearer to her than another: there was no centre of early pieties, of grave endearing traditions, to which her heart could revert and from which it could draw strength for itself and tenderness for others.

This I felt was the saddest moment of the book, and where I started weeping. Unlike Lily Bart, I had grown up with a spot of earth being dearer to me than another. I have roots, and I plan on establishing a place where my children feel that they have roots. This is a point I have actually thought about for years, since I read Wendell Berry's The Unsettling of American: Culture and Agriculture where he talked about the importance of being tied to the land, and how our American nomadism is actually harmful to us. I think there can be a balance. I love to travel and to see different places and sometimes I wish one place or another could be my home, but it's not. As dumb as people might think it is, I am pulled back to Utah because it houses my dearest memories, it was the "centre of early pieties, of grave endearing traditions to which [my] heart could revert and from which it could draw strength for itself and tenderness for others." It's true, and I don't think many people deeply understand this principle unless they had a very special piece of land which they could call home. I know that my experiences growing up on a ranch shaped who I am, living so closely to a beautiful piece of earth gave me balance and established my moral center.

And so I'm excited to go back to my homeland, and I'm extremely happy that I've been able to spend this time here. I needed it. And I plan on coming back soon because I've met amazing people and established what could be long lasting friendships. I guess in a weird way I've set down roots here to which I can return. I've become acquainted with a remarkable city, and I'm lucky I had the opportunity to do so.

So, goodbye to you New York and your trash, your loud and obnoxious people, awful smells, and oppressive heat. And goodbye to your wonderful food, your museums, the beautiful Central Park, and the kind and remarkable people who call you home. This was fun, but I gotta go back home now. I have family, friends, pets, mountain thunderstorms, sunsets, fishing, swimming at Mona, my car, and cheap delicious Mexican food waiting for me back in Utah.

bunch of little randoms

The week since I last posted about the David Byrne concert has been slightly insane. I quit my job last Tuesday so that I could focus more time on the class I'm teaching and on my thesis. Then I started teaching, and that has been quite the experience so far. I've been putting a lot into that, and I'm hoping it's showing. I have the tendency to ramble or say things without thinking (thus insulting people and spouting off inappropriate things) but I think I'm improving. Maybe I just needed some practice.

I feel slightly hypocritical because I am requiring my students to post 3 blog entries every week and I didn't even post anything last week, but I suppose I have my excuses. For one thing, this class takes a lot out of me, and when I sit down to blog it's usually complaints about all the things I have to do which is not interesting. In fact, I have the suspician that this post is very uninteresting as well. But that's ok, it's just a bunch of randoms. I spend hours preparing for the two and a half hour class, the equivelant of 3 fifty minute class periods. When my mom asked me what I did yesterday and I told her "prep for class and teach" she didn't believe it was all I did, but it was. It's a good thing I love it so much.

I hope that what I try to get accross to my students is working. I hope that they learn how important it is not to just feel and experience art but be able to read and talk about it as well. Maybe I'll keep working on making that point throughout the semester. I can't even begin to say how enriched my life has become because I can read and talk about art. I can examine it and understand it and reach new levels of experience that I wouldn't have by simply taking it at face value. I think we need to start analyzing right away.

I went to Moab last weekend with my good friend Brittany. We had a good time camping, and there were some interesting people to be around. I finally got to go to Arches National Park and enjoy the beautiful arches. I don't like hiking as much and that's because I'm lazy, but it was a wonderful experience.
Here's me at Delicate Arch

Where I am standing under this arch is actually quite precarious. I kept imagining myself sliding down the side and smashing my head open on the rock below. I don't know how so many people can visit and not all die. It just takes one slip.

I have to say that I love the desert. I didn't used to. Not until a couple of years ago actually when I read an article in a class about how our love for green is really just a social construct and that we should try to find beauty in the delicate blends of browns, reds, grays, and of course the bright blue of the sky, found in the desert. It's such a peaceful place as well. This is one of my favorite photos I took on our hike to Landscape Arch:

What a wonderful place to be. I'm glad that I discovered how gorgeous the desert can be.

Postcards from Italy

I left Italy a week ago. I suppose I should write that post about what I did in Rome for three days. Maybe instead of going into the whole thing with loads of details I'll just give a basic list. Fortunately I was familiar enough with the city that we were able to get an incredible amount of stuff done. I don't feel as if I really missed anything big. The only interesting things left to see were outside the city and would have required another day or two, so I think we did pretty well. So here is the list.

Day One:
Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore
Esquiline Hill
Foro Romano
Palatino
Coloseo
Piazza di Campodoglio
San Clemente
Teatro di Marcello
Jewish ghetto
Trastevere
Santa Maria in Trastevere

Day Two:
St. Peter's Basilica
Castel Sant'Angelo
Piazza Navona
Pantheon
Santa Maria Sopra Minerva
San Luigi dei Franceschi (Calling of St. Matthew by Caravaggio)
Basilica di Sant'Augostino (where we saw andother Caravaggio)
Santa Maria della Paca (with the cloister designed by Bramante)
Sant'Ivo Sapienza
Trevi Fountain
Spanish Steps
Piazza Barberini

Day Three:
Vatican Museums
Sistine Chapel
Gianicolo
San Pietro in Montorio
Spanish Academy
Santa Maria in Trastevere (went inside this time)
Ponte Sisto
Capo dei fiori
San Andrea di Valle
Largo Argentina
Pantheon
Giolitti
Via del Corso
Piazza di Venezia
Vittorio Emanuele II monument
Colosseum
San Pietro in Vicoli
Basilica Santa Maria degli Angeli (baths of Diocletian)
Santa Maria della Vittoria (w/ St. Teresa in Ecstasy)
Santa Suzanna.

Va be'

I had a good last evening in Florence. We went to eat at a place called Dante where students drink for free. The gorgeous waiter flirted with us and then a group of young men were there for a birthday party and they asked us to take a picture with the birthday boy. They were pretty funny and all of them incredibly attractive. Dinner was great, and cheap, and afterwards we went over and I had my last gelato. I got strawberry, dark chocolate and yogurt and it was the first time that I ordered gelato without sounding like an idiot. It was delicious, and then we came home and I watched an Italian sketch comedy show that was hilarious, even though I could only understand about 25% of what was going on.

I really am going to miss these Italians. I think I can relate to them so much better than Americans. I really like the way they think. I like how they have parties and want to get everyone around them involved, like those guys tonight and the ones in Siena yesterday. I just love them so much. It must be the Italian in me. These really are my people, and they make so much more sense to me than anyone else. I get the way they think, and when I'm walking around the city, pushing past annoying toristi and walking out into the street when it's obviously my turn to go, I feel like an Italian. I've said this before after living in Rome, but I really see an ebb and flow working in the city. You just do what feels right. You know when you can cross the street without a signal telling you that you can. You know when to step off the narrow sidewalk into the street when you're passing by someone, and when the person passing by should step off the sidewalk to let you pass. Everything is communicated without all of the ridiculous awkward politeness. You just go and try to stay out of people's way. And Italians really are polite. They'll smile at you on the bus, or give you a knowing look when someone is being annoying near by. They make you feel comfortable, like you already know each other, like you're already friends. And they'll always include you in their party, not by asking but by taking a picture with you, laughing and joking with you, dancing with you. I think this last trip to Italy has made me realize more than ever how much I love being an Italian, and how much I love these people.

I will come back someday and stay for a longer period and really learn the language, by actually using it like I have been without being scared, and I'll visit where my family is from and try to connect to that heritage a little better. This place is really part of me, and I can't see myself staying away from it for too long.

Out of town

The last four days have been spent outside of Florence. We took a train early on Saturday morning to Rome and stayed for three days. On the way back last night we added up all the major sites we saw and it was 50. 50 in 3 days is pretty damn good, I'd say. I think the fact that I knew my way around the city was very helpful. I don't have the time now, but I'll write about our Roman adventures soon.

We got back last night and then went to Siena today, one of my favorite places in Italy. It has such a completely different feel from Florence, which has been its long time rival. Sienese art is very different than Florentine. It's quite decorative, extremely busy and uses every space available to tell its proud Sienese history. It fascinates me because while we are so used to seeing Florentine art because it was the seat of the Renaissance, Sienese art is not as well known, and so it seems so very foreign. Siena is also a gorgeous little city without any cars on its roads (you have to be a permanent resident to drive through its streets) and the major piazza in the city slopes downwards, resembling some sort of amphitheatre. Since today was a national holiday we saw an incredible amount of families in the piazza. I have never seen so many Italian children in my life. I didn't realize so many existed, and they were all crazy and happy. It felt like being part of something sitting out there in the middle of the piazza. A fairly large group of drunk Italian men were singing and dancing to accordion music and after embarrassing several young tourists by dancing with them they proceeded to take their little party through the streets. Oh, also may I note that a very nice smelling and handsome man got on our bus with a darling little puppy on the way there. You could tell how much he adored her. He held her and kissed her when she whimpered and talked to her the whole way there. So sweet. With that and the dancing men and all the little children today I felt a good deal of love for Italians. They are great people, and I'm going to miss them.

While we were in Siena we also saw the Duomo, which has some incredible decorative architecture. Every stone in the building is alternated black and white, so it's all striped, and the floors are amazing mosaics telling the story of the city. The actual church was supposed to be only a trancept of a much larger church, planned in the 14th century. They started building this massive church to rival the Duomo in Florence, and they finished the walls of the nave before the plague hit the city and killed half of its population. They therefore had to stop construction, but those walls are still there. As we were going through the museum there was a little door open in one of the rooms. You had to descend some stairs and then there was a narrow passage. There were no signs or anything indicating what was there, so we followed it up a tiny spiral staircase and found ourselves on top of the unfinished nave, with an amazing view of the city and the Tuscan countryside. I couldnt believe how gorgeous it all was. I felt very fortunate to be there at that moment. I love Siena.

Tomorrow is my last day here. I need to go see the convent of San Marco. That is the major thing. I also need to buy my train ticket to the airport and pick up a few more things. So far my trip has been pretty much perfect. Everything has gone to plan and I've had a really lovely time. I am certainly not looking forward to the plane trip home, but it will be nice to get back to my life. I have a lot that I need to do when I get back. And I need to change some things in my life that have not been making me very happy. I'm going to quit my job and focus my time and energies on my thesis and on preparing myself to apply to Phd programs and also to plan out the class I am teaching this summer. Ugh. I need to not think about it and just enjoy the hell out of Florence tomorrow. I really love it here.

Lost in Florence, Day 4

This morning I headed out thinking, "wow. I can totally make my way around Florence now without getting lost." And throughout the day I learned just how wrong I was in thinking that. I started off by going to the Ufizzi. I had tickets for 9:00 am, and I was finished by 10:30. So I came back home, my feet really aching and decided to stay in until 1 or 2 and rest for the next part of the day. Then I decided to go climb the Duomo, which didnt end up happening. From the piazza Santa Maria Novella I headed in, what I thought, was the right direction and found myself instead in the San Lorenzo leather market where I was sucked in and bought a bag. I haggled the lady down 50 euro, so that was cool. I also saw the inside of the church San Lorenzo. Then I meant to head right over to the Duomo which I knew was just down the road. Only I turned down the wrong road, got all turned around and found myself again in the piazza Santa Maria Novella. Then I headed back into the maze, this time sure I was in the right direction and all the time looking up for a glimpse of the enormous dome, and found myself in the Piazza Republica. If I hadnt noticed that's where I was I would have ended up at the river, way way off from the Duomo. So by the time I actually got there I was exhausted and did not want to climb up the thing. So instead I just went in, payed 3 euro and went into the crypt where they unearthed the earlier parts of the church, then I went around to the Duomo museum and paid 6 euro to go in there and see a Michelangelo and a Donatello. Then I bought more shoes. Then I was knackered and headed back home, rested for an hour and then went out again, this time trying to find the Santa Croce church, which by some miracle I did. I met up with Jendar and her friend and we went to one of the most darling little pizzerias I have ever seen. There are only 4 tables inside and one man taking orders and cooking up the pizzas right in front of us. We were the first ones in there and the guy was so adorable and nice. He made our pizzas in the shape of hearts. :) Afterwards we walked over to an old palazzo where they had a very informative Galileo exhibit that wasn't really on Galileo at all. It was about the history of the western world's view of the universe. But they did have Galileo's telescope, which was cool.

So back home, to sleep, then I'll take it a bit easy tomorrow. There are three more things I have to do: go to San Marco, San Miniato al Monte, and climb the Duomo. San Miniato is tomorrow morning's activity, then lunch break, then San Marco and the Duomo. I think that is very doable.

Italia, La giornata 3

I did a lot today, but had no itinerary to begin with, which made the day a bit of an adventure. I woke up and took a while to get going but eventually got out of the house with the intention of shopping. So I walked over one of the bridges thinking I would find a store where they sell Birkenstock sandals (which are very popular over here with all kinds of different styles, so I figured I should just get some) but the store that I read had them was super high end and I went in with my cheap old sundress and gross shoes and the woman just kept following me around and staring at me. I got out of there fast and decided to walk up to the Piazza Republica where there is supposed to be an H&M. As I was looking for it I found myself at the Orsanmichele, one of the oldest buildings in the city. In fact, Piazza Republica is in the center of the old Roman city and used to be where the most ancient part was, until they tore down all the old buildings 100 years ago and stuck the ugly Piazza and loggia up. Too bad. Fortunately they didn't tear down Orsanmichele. It used to be a big loggia where the grain market was held, then they walled up the arches and made it into a church.

Anyway, I finally found H&M and fortunately for me, baggy clothes are in fashion here right now. Which means that I was actually able to find things that fit. I bought an oversized t-shirt (pretty 80sish) with a parrot on it and some linen pants. Then I walked down to the Ponte Vecchio where all the jewelry shops are, crossed over and headed back towards Jendar's apartment. Then I passed the Brancacci chapel where some of Massaccio's most famous works are, and it looked open so I decided to go and buy a ticket. It was noon and I was able to get a reservation for 1, so in the mean time I came back to Jendar's and ate and changed.

The chapel was pretty wonderful. I loved it. It was cool to see those paintings that had such a strong influence on so many people. They showed a movie that was forever but it was informative enough. After I looked at the chapel I decided to head back over the bridge and see what was there for me to see. I heard there was a yarn shop, but when I went to the address it wasnt there anymore. The shopkeeper there was pretty darling when he told me that they had gone. I quickly fell in love.

So I crossed the bridge and walked up until I entered the Ufizzi piazza. I decided I might as well go in, even though I wanted to try to do things I've never done, so I bought a ticket for tomorrow morning so as to avoid waiting in line. Then I found myself at the Piazza Singoria with all the other tourists in Florence. I figured I might as well go into the Palazzo Vecchio since I hadn't before, so I did that. I was impressed with the inside and thought of all the crazy italian men who had run the city over so many years. There is a little veranda in the corner of the building with a great view of the south side of the river, and that I was really nice. The weather was not nearly as painfully hot today as it has been the last few days.

After Palazzo Vecchio I wandered up to the Duomo and was thinking about climbing the dome but i was so tired and hungry that I couldn't bring myself to. So i bought some shoes instead. I like them, but I won't be able to wear them for this trip because they rub my toe a little bit and i got a blister just from walking back home. It's a shame. And I decided to save the Duomo for tomorrow after the Ufizzi.

So I came back, got some more gelato, this time dark chocolate and blackberry, and made some great dinner for me and Jendar, and watched MTV. Italian mtv is pretty awesome. They actually play music videos. Then Jendar and I decided to go to the Serial Killer Museum, so we walked over there. It was ok. I didn't get any information I didnt already know about serial killers and it was long and boring, but I'm still glad I went. On the way home we stopped at the loggia in Piazza Signoria and listened to some street performers for a little, then came back home. And now I am exhausted. Tomorrow is the Ufizzi, the Duomo and San Marco, then we are getting some pizza and going to the Galileo exhibit. So, i better get all the sleep I can so I can be there on time at the Ufizzi. Ciao!

Italy, Day 2

Today I got up early and went with Jendar to where she works, Villa la Pietra. We took a tour of the garden and then ate at the cafeteria there, which was all really really good for being a cafeteria. Well, I guess the fact that we are in Italy probably makes a difference. After lunch I took the back down to Florence and then up to Fiesole. I was planning on walking, but it is literally like climbing a mountain. They call it a hill but it is just as high as Y mount. So I took the bus. On top of the mountain and just off the main square is an old Roman theatre. But it was closed today. :( I may go back tomorrow. I was almost defeated since that was the whole reason why I went up. But I decided to just keep looking around instead of going back down. I'm glad I did. I walked up the rest of the hill to the very very top where the old Etruscan and Roman acropolis were and where had been built a monastery and church later on. I had a hard time figuring out how to get in, but I finally managed to and it was very special. Before I got to the church I walked (hiked) past a little park with a gorgeous view of Florence and all the Tuscan countryside. I seriously could see forever. Looking at the city in that context was interesting.

So the church was tiny inside, recently restored, and just as lovely as can be. It was free, which was a plus because I hate paying to get into churches. Just off the nave were lovely cloisters and another (free!) museum, a Franciscan missionary museum so it was full of stuff from China. It also had Egyptian stuff like a mummy. cool. and some great Etruscan pottery. There was an Etruscan wall there too that the church had used instead of tearing down. It was very impressive, as ancient engineering feats tend to be. I loved this building so much. Probably because no one was there and it was free.

Below the church was a path that lead down the hill through a wooded park. Gorgeous. I strolled down it and in the main piazza I went into another church. It was again really lovely and nice and cool. (It has been SOO hot the last few days. Way up into the 90s. and the churches are usually the coolest places to be.) There was a huge group of German tourists there who were really really loud. I kept running into them in places, and when they showed up I left. After that I wandered down the hill to the north where there was supposed to be a cemetery. I wandered a bit too far, past the road I was supposed to go down (easy to do since it seems like none of those tiny roads are labeled), and found a little park with benches overlooking the north side of Fiesole. (Florence is to the South).

When I finally found the cemetery it was extremely interesting. All of the headstones have little tiny photographs of the people who died. There was also a loggia (a covered arcade used for hanging out it. Florentines love them) and I was a bit suprised to find that inside it was full of tombs, not just on the walls, but in the floor as well. It was weird walking on all of those graves like that.

After the cemetery I walked back down the hill to San Domenico to see the church. Inside was a painting by Fra Angelico that I really loved and was glad to see. Then I caught the bus, went back to Florence, got on another bus and came back out of the city to Villa la Pietra. I changed into a little nicer attire and watched a production of the Comedy of Errors in the "limonaia", the building where they store lemon trees in the winter time. It was fun, part of it in Italian and part in English. And I actually saw some kids there that I knew from an italian class a long time ago and who are living in Italy now. Weird. After that was a reception with free yummy food and drinks. It was a nice evening. Then we came back down, stopped by the gelateria and I got myself yogurt & nutella and coccoarancia (chcolate orange) gelato. Nearly died again. Love it sooo much. yogurt flavor is definitely my favorite so far.

I dont' know what i'll do tomorrow, but I think shopping is in store... I'm going to buy me some sandals and I know exactly what ones I want!

Italy, Day 1

Mamma mia. I am exhausted. I have slept 4 hours in the last 2 days. Very tired, but I am glad I made it! Florence is lovely....except that it was so freaking hot today and I'm just not used to the heat yet. But I've already ate gelato twice. I had mojito and tropicale on a cone, and then later I had yogurt and strawberry. The yogurt and strawberry nearly killed me, it was so good, and the tropicale was lovely and refreshing, but the mojito just tasted like lime and not mint at all.

Anyway, tomorrow I'm going to Villa la Pietra, where my friend is doing her internship, to have a personal guided tour of the gardens and works, then we're going to eat there and maybe I'll take a bus or walk up the hill to Fiesole to see the Etruscan ruins. Then later on at Villa la Pietra there is a play with a reception after that I am invited to. I'm gonna dress up all pretty. I can't wait.

the last three weeks, in case you were wondering.

The last time I blogged was on my birthday, three weeks ago. It's not surprising since this month has been one of the busiest months of my life, and even now that school is done I can't really stop. Still have papers to grade, still have to work, have to get my life back into some kind of order and jump on my thesis work. I thought that I'd give a rundown of all the things I've done this month.

My birthday was on Friday the 3rd and I had a nice dinner with a lot of friends, went to gallery stroll and had cake at my house with more friends. My little sister came down and visited me for the weekend and I got to see people I hadn't seen in a long time. Very awesome.

I left for New Orleans on Tuesday April 7, so I had to get my Great War paper done before then since it would be due the day after I got home, and I managed to do it! I took the bus to Salt Lake, my sister took me to the airport. I ended up taking the same plane as 3 professors from BYU, which ended up being really fun. I sat next to one who was sitting next to a lady that worked for the FBI, and she was extremely interesting to listen to. I also sat next to an old man from New Orleans who had a disgusting burn on his hand that made me sick. He kept buying those little bottles of wine, and after the third he started talking to me. He told me all the things he thought I should do in the city, all the places I should go to eat and the things I should see. The drunk old man's information was very useful to me later, I found.

The night we got into New Orleans I went out to dinner with my professors at a place called Daisy Duke's. It was ok food. I got a seafood omelet and had my first experience with crawfish. LOVED it. I also had grits, which didnt taste like anything to me. (I would try them at another place where they were soooo much better, not runny, and super delicious and buttery). It was weird and fun to hang out with three older married professors. It was a good way to start out the week since I would be hanging out with other professors and I got used to it, I felt very comfortable and could hold my own in a conversation, which definitely came in handy later.

On Wednesday I presented my paper and it went really well. I got some good feedback from the people there and felt pretty good about it. Then Dr. Sederholm, Dr. Perry and I went to the House of Blues and bought tickets to see the Vivian Girls for that night. Then I went to some panels and then went out to dinner with Dr. Sederholm (whom I began to call Carl, which was weird to me) and his friends. I felt really weird at first and almost didn't go, but eventually felt comfortable and had some really interesting conversations. It was a good night. Afterwards we went to the Vivian Girls show and it was pretty awesome.

On Thursday I hung out with my roommate and a guy who was there to present from BYU. It was fun, we just walked around and looked at stuff, went to the French Market and bought some bracelets. Then I ate a beignet. And my life has never been the same since. I went out again Thursday with the same group and had some great conversations yet again. And then I ate a crawfish etouffe and my life has never been the same since. I ate that three more times before I left on Sunday. I had never even heard of this stuff before. Amazing. After Carl's panel we took him to get beignets and then walked around and down Bourbon Street, which is always fun. I think he enjoyed himself, so I'm glad he hung out with us.

On Friday we went on a "Ghost Tour" of the French Quarter, which was boring. But I got to go into a bar that was once a brothel and was allegedly haunted by a dead prostitute. So, well worth the 20 bucks, yeah? I did get to learn a little bit of history, which actually did make it worth going, since I'm a geek for local histories.

I was supposed to come home Saturday, but I decided to extend my flight until Sunday so that I could go to more panels on Saturday and see a little more of the city. I ended up spending the morning in a cemetery, but I think I should have gone on the street car to see the big old houses outside the city, but alas, I went to the most awesome cemetery in the country instead. I'm happy for my decision. I also ended up going to four more panels and talking to a lot more awesome people.

This was definitely one of my favorite trips, especially because I got most of it funded. I still need to bring in receipts and get it all straightened out, but I'll get the hotel and registration paid for at least. I also think it was really good for me as far as figuring out what I want to do with my life. I want to go to conferences and talk to amazing people, and share the work I do and buy the most current books and be involved in that world. And I think going to this conference proved to myself that I can hold my own, that I can contribute. It's made me want to work harder to do all those things I want to do.

Coming home was hard. I had to get up at 3 in the morning to get to my shuttle at 4, the flight was at 6 and I had a 2 hour layover in Atlanta. When I got back I had to take the bus to Provo which was another 2 hours. I didn't get home until 4 that afternoon, and on just 2 hours of sleep. Very not fun. Then I had finals week: a paper due on Tuesday, a final and projects due on Saturday and another paper and a presentation on Saturday. Plus I had to work 20 hours before Saturday. It was a hard week, but I made it through. I couldn't believe how tired I was. By Sunday I had no energy left whatsoever, and this week has been me just taking it easy, enjoying the nice weather, working a bit and spending time with friends. It's been a nice little recovery period.

Now it's back to work.