A Little Too Revealing

Some of my work

2010-07-17T21:05:00.001-04:00

I wanted to be able to share some of the videos I had only posted on facebook, just in case anyone cared to see them.

First off is my multichannel project for Video 2, called "Discrete Definitions"

Then we have my final project for Video 2, "Labors of Love," a short documentary on the process of making my final project, and the evolution of love as we grow up (at least through college):

Last is "Word Association," my final project from Video 1, which was an experimental project intended to test our skills on FCP:

A Letter to My Father

2010-02-15T19:28:00.004-05:00

Dear Dad,

We watched a collection of Warner Bros. shorts in my History of Animation class this week, and ever since I can't stop thinking about Looney Tunes. And when I think about Looney Tunes, I think about you.

It made me realize that I don't thank you often enough for being such a wonderful father. Sure, there's the grand gestures made on your birthday, or Father's Day, the cards and ties and Brooks Brothers shirts. But I should thank you more than that, because you are an amazing parent on more than two or three days a year.

Watching Bugs and his pals come to life again immediately brought me back to the family room couch, before we shifted everything around, when both overhead lights worked in that room. I remembered discovering humor with you, watching your face as the jokes cracked smiles, and then chuckles, and realizing that same reaction occurring myself. The excitement of sharing these cartoons -- of their belonging just to us. And now, the notion that these cartoons came out when you were young, that you shared part of your childhood with me -- that makes it even more special.

It's the little things, the quiet moments, that I treasure the most. I remember late nights when I was sick, finding comfort in the long cartoon blocks on Cartoon Network. The experiences are intertwined, memories of Marvin the Martian and electric blankets and Coca-Cola running together. I have always been thankful for the lessons you've taught me, for the guidance and acceptance throughout my life. But revisiting these cartoons made me grateful for the less obvious gifts. My sense of humor and love of whimsy were definitely products of those countless ours with Chuck Jones and Tex Avery. And I know I should hold my common sense in highest esteem, but really, if I could only keep one thing it would be my sense of humor.

So thank you, Dad. Thanks for sticking me in front of the boob tube, for letting my brain rot for hours on end. It has made me who I am today, and made me aware of how indebted I am to you for that. I feel blessed, knowing that these cartoons endure through time, that Elmer Fudd will always be hunting wabbits, and that they are a part of my past, present, and future with you.

Love,
Maggie

James Cameron, World Emperor

2010-02-11T16:47:00.003-05:00

A few days after I got home for winter break, I went with my father to see Avatar, the highly anticipated new film by James Cameron. Lame-o that I am, I saw it in 2D -- I find 3D disorienting, and could go into a whole discussion of my thoughts on the new direction of theatrical exhibition, but I'll save that for another post -- and was thoroughly entertained. It wasn't the newest of stories (I swear to God, if I hear one more joke about "Dances With Aliens," I'm gonna smack someone), but it was well-paced, relatively well-acted, and of course, the art direction was mind-blowing, even in traditional 2D. I walked out of the theater feeling like I hadn't wasted those three hours, even if Avatar wasn't the best film I had seen all year.

That was in December.

Cut to mid-January, the start of the new semester. To finish off my college experience, I elected to take four film classes this semester, on a variety of subjects. And since the first day of class, I have experienced an unrelenting barrage of mentions of Avatar. There has not been a single class day that has gone by without a reference to the film in one, if not all of my classes. Sometimes it's a passing comment, sometimes it's the instigator of a larger discussion. And frankly, it's driving me crazy.

Now, as I said before, I'm not an Avatar-hater. I have my qualms with the movie, specifically the script, which relies on tropes of the sci-fi genre and has some troubling racial and Orientalist elements in the depiction of the Na'vi (hey, it's my thesis topic, I'm a little sensitive to these things now). But overall I liked the film. I just don't think it's the type of game changer that should be literally discussed ad nauseum.

In defense of my professors, I understand that the film is revolutionary in many ways. Cameron invented technology specifically for this film, and will no doubt make bundles of cash in the coming decades, much as George Lucas has enjoyed the profits from his technical studios. Once again Cameron has made a film with enormous global appeal, smashing box office records left and right, and surpassing his previous cinematic icon, Titanic. The film has an tremendous cultural imprint, and is very much of the current historical moment, with its themes of environmental conservation, and ostensibly a promotion of multiculturalism. And of course, the sexy blue cat lady, played by arguably sexier in real life Zoe Saldana.

The thing that frustrates me about this constant chatter over Avatar, is all the films that are ignored because of it. I am a fan of blockbuster films, but in an environment like a film class, I want to discuss films that challenge the medium. For all of the whiz-bang effects and snazzy 3D, Avatar is a rather formulaic action/adventure film. I concede that for the industry as a business, it is a revelation, a new standard, a wake-up call for ad-execs. But it provides the same type of characters, the same type of story, the same type of editing as, I don't know, Bad Boys. In my classes I want to comb over films that confront me with issues, that are difficult to get through, that refuse to conform on at least some level. Isn't that why we go to school -- to challenge our minds, to make ourselves work through puzzles in the hope of achieving some sort of better understanding of the world and its workings?

The obvious film to mention in contrast is Kathryn Bigelow's The Hurt Locker. I saw this film way back in August. It is a film that refuses to settle for tried and true formulas. It is a war film that has no epic battle scenes, a suspense film where the pay-off is often the lack of explosions, a character-driven story where we learn more from actions of a few scant minutes than the backstory presented at the end of the picture. And most importantly, the end of the picture is unsettling to some degree. It does not fulfill our expectations of the happy American ideal. The Hurt Locker is also not my favorite film of the year, and certainly not the most challenging film I've watched, but for a relatively mainstream release, in my mind it offers far more to dig through than Avatar. (random trivia: Bigelow and Cameron were married for a few years)

Or at least let's talk about the problems with Avatar, or even its successes, in terms of their intricacies, instead of throw-away lines like "doesn't this remind you of Avatar?" and "I bet you're all thinking of James Cameron." Tell me why it reminds you. Give me details I can pore over, or debate. Do films like Avatar provide a cinema of attractions for today? Is 3D spectatorship the same as 2D? Why in particular has this film become a catch-all for pop-culture references? Why does it have this incredible grip on society (for a creepy example: http://www.cnn.com/2010/SHOWBIZ/Movies/01/11/avatar.movie.blues/index.html)?

I don't have the answers to these questions, but I'd like to talk about them. With the Oscars coming up, my daily ordeal is probably only going to get worse. Maybe the only option is to just buck-up and smile my way through the endless references. Oy vey.

To end on a mildly corny note, I guess what I really want is to have 3D discussions about Avatar or none at all. Oddly enough, it's all the two-dimensional references that are making me nauseous.

A Little Too Revealing, Mark II

2010-02-11T16:37:00.003-05:00

I've decided to start this blog up again. Now obviously the content's going to be different, since I'm no longer studying abroad, and therefore having adventures of a decidedly more domestic flavor. I'd been toying with the idea of blogging again for some time, but never knew what on earth I would write about, since I wasn't in Europe anymore. Then my brother Dan suggested that I stop worrying about what to write about, and just write. So here I am.

I can't promise that this will be consistently interesting, or topical, or coherent. But with graduation a scant few months away, and the rather imposing spectre of unemployment looming ahead of me, I'll probably have more free time than I know what to do with by June. So I'll try to get into the habit of blogging now, in the hopes that at least when I'm unemployed, I can tell myself I'm being productive by posting nonsense on the internet.

I could go into more depth about what I think I'll be posting about, but I'm pretty sure no one is particularly interested in that. So I'll just end this "re-opening" post here, and move on to an actual post.

I guess the best motto for this new blog is articulated by one of my favorite childhood authors, Roald Dahl: "A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men."

So let's get this nonsense started.

Last Post in Scotland

2008-12-20T17:25:00.003-05:00

I have to admit, I'm pretty exhausted after writing that massive post about my trip to Rome. But I really do want to have a sort of "wrap up" post about this semester, before I head home tomorrow. I got back to Glasgow late Tuesday night, and spent most of Wednesday and Thursday studying for my Scottish Lit exam on Friday morning. Di and I did step out of our rooms briefly on Thursday for a goodbye hot cocoa party with our Norwegian friend Hanne, who is a real sweetie, and one of the people I'm going to miss. She made the cocoa the old fashioned way, with powder, milk, and sugar. Di and I were very impressed.

Last night Di and I went to 12 Hour Cheesy Pop at the QMU. We were there from around 8:30 PM until 2:45 AM, which I'm fairly sure is the longest I've partied ever. It was a blast, with the usual cheesy pop fare, a set from The Foundations (of "Build Me Up Buttercup" fame), a Christmas carnival, an all night snack bar, and my favorite part, the "hedphone disco." I'm really happy we got to dance in the hedphone disco since we missed the experience during Freshers Week. Di and I saw a couple of people we knew at the union, but I think a lot of people have already gone home. After we left the QMU and hobbled over to get a cab (I was wearing heels, and have the blisters to show it -- ow), I stayed up with Di until she caught a cab at 5:30 to the train station. Her flight was scheduled at 9:00 AM from Edinburgh, although I think it got delayed. I crashed as soon as she left, got up at noon, and spent the rest of the day getting ready to leave tomorrow.

EDIT: I forgot to include the random acts of kindness that cemented my view of Glasgow's hospitality. On Thursday night Di and I had our final Ashoka dinner, and during the meal the staff repeatedly stopped by our table to chat, and upon finding out it was our last time there, to say goodbye. I didn't realize we'd become such regulars! At the end of the meal the manager (who had at least said hello almost every time we'd come) came over to talk, and as a goodbye present for being such good customers, he gave us an Ashoka cookbook. For free! It was very sweet, and pretty much made my day.

Then today, when I went to check-in online and print out my boarding passes, I stopped by Bagel Bite to grab some lunch. Di and I also frequented that shop after our workouts, and the man who owns it was working the counter when I came in. While waiting for my bagel to toast, we had a brief discussion, and again, upon finding out Di had already left and I was leaving, he gave me a 25% discount, and threw in a caramel shortcake to boot. I think I might miss that Glasgow hospitality.

So after a semester abroad, what have I really learned? Well, I certainly know a great deal more about Australian and Scottish cinema, and have added to my repetoire of random movies very few people have seen. I've doubled the number of countries I've traveled to, and saw a whole bunch of artwork that solidified my interest in sculpture, baroque, and neoclassical art. I've learned what a pint of magic is, what's in neeps and tatties, and where to find good haggis.

But I suppose the most important lesson I've learned is how to handle the unexpected on my own. I was lucky to have Diana, but she was just as new to this as I was, and I think I've gained confidence in being able to figure out situations. Life seems to have a tendency to throw dilemmas and conflicts in your face when you're least ready, and being in a foreign country only heightened the confusion. But somehow I made it through relatively unscathed, and I count my lucky stars for that.

Would I do it again? I think so -- for all the homesickness and the ups and downs, I firmly believe this semester in Glasgow was a worthwhile experience. Sure, there are some things I might do differently if I could go back again, but in general I'd say I'm satisfied.

Who knows if I'll keep this blog up after I get home, or what it will turn into if I do. But thanks to all who read along during my adventures -- you deserve a medal for slogging through my dense and nonsensical prose. Seriously, though -- thanks for all the words of encouragement and support. It kept me connected to home. That connection will be literal in a mere 24 hours -- sweet.

Time Wasters

2008-12-20T16:32:00.002-05:00

While I would love to say that my main motivation in writing this entry is the overwhelming sense of duty I have about keeping my audience (if I have one) updated, in fact the real reason is much pettier. I'm basically hanging around, waiting for 1 PM tomorrow to arrive. My day has been a little more hectic than initially expected, but overall, I keep returning to my computer screen and really, even I can watch only so many youtube videos.

But before I talk about the past few days in Scotland, I should really cover my trip to Rome. So let me fetch my trusty notebook, full of bullet points about Di, Xixi and my activities from December 13th to the 16th.

Xixi showed up around 11 AM on Saturday morning (our flight was leaving Prestwick at 4 PM), and we tried to get lunch at Ashoka. Unfortunately, they didn't open until noon, so we had paninis at Morton's instead. Riveting, I know. Anyway, after lunch we went on an epic journey across the street to a newsagent and got a Mars Bar, then went back to Jack McPhees/Mario's Place (the restaurant signs list both) and after some initial resistance to the idea, got them to fry the candy for us. Now I've had fried oreos before (at Penn's Spring Fling), so I was used to the concept of fried dessert. But the fried oreos use funnel cake batter, as opposed to the saltier, fishier batter they use in chippies. However, the fried Mars Bar was actually not salty enough for me -- it was sort of just melted. I definitely prefer oreos, and I'm really glad we only got one bar -- I would have experienced cardiac arrest if I had tried a whole one. But it was something we all needed to do before we left -- a tiny, often neglected piece of Scottish culture.

We headed downtown to Central Station to catch a train to Prestwick (which is significantly cheaper than the bus, a fact I didn't discover until last week, argh). Aside from a possibly insane, definitely horribly ill elderly man on the train who was hacking up phlegm/his lung, the train ride was smooth and pleasant. I ended up sitting in the middle seat on both flights, which was fine because Di and Laura slept both ways, and I did work and read.

Our flight got in around 8, and after finding our way to our hostel, we went to dinner at a nearby restaurant. I had gnocchi for the first time in probably half a year, and it was fantastic. Actually, aside from a salad I had the last night which was gross (it was salty!), the food in Italy was amazing. Just fresh and flavourful. Dan was after me to try limoncello, and I gave it a shot at dinner. Suffice to say it's not the drink for me.

The hostel, Hotel Lella, was not exactly what I expected, but ended up being a perfectly nice place. It was situated in an old apartment building, sharing the space with private tenants. In our three days there, I only saw one guy running everything, and so we became convinced that he just never slept. But there were three beds in the room, we had our own bathroom, and breakfast was included (and brought up to our room each morning). Plus, there was a neat old lift in the building, which could only fit the three of us across, but had sliding doors and a elevator cage. We all thought it was really cool.

On Sunday we covered most of the ancient/ruins that we wanted to see. Our first stop was at St. Peter in Chains, where Michelangelo's "Moses" is. It was sort of a preview to the rest of the trip, with me being overly enthusiastic about the art we saw and Di and Laura nodding along to keep me happy. But seriously, it was really amazing to see all the artwork I did. I managed to find a lot of the pieces that we studied in my class last semester, and to actually be in the same room as these masterpieces was beyond belief. The trip also served as a catalyst for my new obsession with the sculptor Gian Lorenzo Bernini. We saw a bunch of his more famous pieces, and I'm kicking myself for not going to Villa Borghese and seeing more of them.

Anyway, after St. Peter in Chains we walked down to the Colosseum, which, despite its enormity, managed to sneak up on us. We strolled through there and Palatine Hill, and generally enjoyed the grandeur of the view and the beautiful weather. There were oranges growing on Palantine Hill, in stark contrast to absolutely nothing growing in Glasgow this time of year. After lunch (my first real Roman pizza), we walked over to the Trevi Fountain, and I threw in a coin to guarantee my return to Rome (hint, hint, Mom and Dad). Then over to the Spanish Steps, where Di was manhandled by several vendors (one literally grabbed her by the elbow). Then over to Piazza Barberini, where we saw Fontana del Tritone and the Fountain of the Bees, both by Bernini. We took a quick breather and I had my first real Italian cappucino (best I've ever had), and Di ended up with a Coca Light (their Diet Coke) that cost 5 euro -- yikes!

We were over in Piazza Barberini to see the Capuchin Monks Cemetery. It was a truly surreal experience, and hard to describe without you actually seeing it. I got a book of postcards because they don't let you take photos inside. The cemetery is actually a series of intricately designed rooms covered in sculptures made out of the bones of over 4000 monks. Some are still fully constructed and dressed in their habits, but most of the designs use only one or two types of bones (collar bones, vertebrae, etc). Di and Laura thought it was beautiful, but I couldn't quite get past the idea of these being the remains of people.

After the Capuchin monks we strolled back across the Spanish Steps to Piazza del Popolo, and browsed the holiday market in the square. I had gnocchi again for dinner (and was made fun of for it), and then we ended up back in Piazza Barbarini for drinks. Di had a "sex on the beach" and I had a "grasshopper." The waiter actually cracked a joke about Di's drink, something we'd pretty much been expecting all semester, so I'm glad that somebody commented on the drink's name.

On Monday Laura split off to meet her old Wellesley who is now running the American Academy in Rome, and Di and I took the metro to Vatican City. We saw the Vatican Museum in the morning, and my pictures tell most of the story. The only thing that couldn't be photographed was the Sistine Chapel, which defies real description. We had studied it last semester, but the sheer size of it is striking. It is a beautiful piece of work, and I could have spent hours looking at it and injurying my neck.

We had a very expensive lunch (tourist area) after we met up with Laura, and then went to St. Peter's Basilica. The lighting was terrible inside because it was raining heavily all day, so my photos don't adequately represent the size and scope of the Basilica. We came up into it from the Grottoes, where the tombs of several popes are, including John Paul II. But coming up the stairs into the Basilica -- it's just awe inspiring. The ceiling is leagues and leagues above you, and everything is so intricate and artistic and wonderful. Bernini had a big hand in the construction and decoration of St. Peter's, including the design of St. Peter's Chair, the baldachin, and the tomb of Pope Urban VIII.

Eventually we left the Vatican and headed over to Piazza Navona, where I saw more Bernini -- one of my new favorite pieces, the "Fountain of the Four Rivers." The four figures represent the major rivers of the world (at the point of its design) -- the Danube, the Ganges, the Nile, and the Rio de la Plata. A really dynamic and equisite piece of sculpture. From Piazza Navona we went to the Panteon, which was gorgeous, but not as dramatic as it could have been if we had seen it during the day. I had my terrible dinner that night, but made up for it by getting fantastic gelato (I think we got gelato on Sunday, too).

Tuesday we sort of meandered about. I had asked at a tourist information booth where to find Bernini's "The Ecstasy of St. Theresa," and so we headed over to Santa Maria in Vittorio. Again, mind boggling beauty, and I consider myself very lucky to have had the chance to see it. The rest of the day was spent seeing the market at Campo di Fiori, revisiting Piazza Navona in the sunlight, and trying to go to Castel de St. Angelo, which was closed due to the intense rainfall of the previous week, which caused a lot of flooding around the Tiber. We ended the day with gelato, then hopped on our flight, and went back to Glasgow, and back to studying for our exams.

Overall, my trip to Rome was an incredible experience, and has only made me want to study art history more. I definitely need to go to more of Italy, especially Florence, and at some point I would love to come back to Rome, since I'm positive there are many, many things I didn't see. Another stamp in my passport, another amazing collection of memories. Ouch, that was cliche.

Just a Quick One

2008-12-20T15:34:00.002-05:00

I just wanted to give the link to my Rome photos. They're under a different account because I used up nearly all of the space on the picasa account linked to this blog. I'm going to take a little break and pack a bit more, but I really intend to give a full explanation of my time in Rome, and a few thoughts on my last days in Scotland.

Here's the album: Roman Holiday (no, really)

OH MY GOD MAGGIE UPDATED

2008-12-11T18:28:00.005-05:00

... Is what I imagine you all are saying right now. And when I say "you all," I am in fact referring to the 3 people who have yet to abandon me due to my abysmal habit of letting my blog slide for, oh, over a month. I have neither adequate excuses or apologies for this situation. The least I can do is attempt a brief summary of the past month and two days.

The most exciting part of the past month was definitely my family's visit. But before I get to that, I'll just post the link to my pictures from Amsterdam and my trip to the Edinburgh Zoo with Kara and Di. Here ya go: Two Unrelated Adventures

Now on to the epic visit. I had a couple of weeks between Sam and Jess's visit and when my parents and Dan showed up, and of course I had an essay due. Miraculously, I had it finished in time to meet my family in Edinburgh for the weekend. As the pictures will partially show, we went to the Museum of Scotland, Holyrood Palace, Greyfriar's Bobby (the pub, not the churchyard), and The Writer's Museum. Dan kept threatening to make me climb Arthur's Seat with him for exercise, but luckily his plans were thwarted by his tendency to oversleep. On Saturday we also took a day trip out to Rosslyn Chapel, a gorgeous medieval church known to most as the site of the end of the Rose line from the Da Vinci Code. Unsurprisingly, very little filming actually occurred there during the shoot for the movie. But the architecture was absolutely stunning -- the amount of intricacy put into the stone carvings was incredible, especially in the ceiling, which has a collection of suns, moons, and stars. Unfortunately, like many historical sites I've encountered in my travels, photography was not allowed. Another down side to Rosslyn Chapel was the lack of heating, not helped by the fact that stone does a pretty poor job of insulating. But, as we all agreed, one of the best parts of the Chapel was the fact that we had visited it, and Charlie had not. Take that, family Scotland expert!

Another funny anecdote was when my mom and I went to Clarinda's for tea. My mother had wanted to go the last time we were all in Edinburgh, when I was nine and the family was visiting Charlie during his Fulbright year. In the rush to see as many touristy/historical sites as possible, she was unable to get a cup of tea at Clarinda's (named after Robbie Burns' paramour), and so I promised I would go with her during this trip. And who should greet us when we opened the door to the tearoom? Di and her mom, Jenny, who was also visiting that weekend!

On the way to Glasgow on Sunday we went north to Perth and saw Scone Palace (pronounced "skoon"), the ancient crowning site of Scottish kings. It's now a manor estate for a lord and his family, but they do have some wonderful artwork and china there, including a sculpture by Bernini. It had also snowed a bit when we arrived in Perth, which is completely unrelated to the contents of Scone Palace, but allowed me to throw some snowballs at Dan, and so it's worth mentioning.

Sunday night we went to a concert called "Mozart by Candlelight" at the Royal Concert Hall, which was actually my first professional classical music concert. It was a new experience, but I really enjoyed it. Maybe I'll try to go to some of the shows Matt went to last year in Philly. Afterwards we went to Ashoka, an excellent Indian restaurant on Ashton Lane, and after Mom and Dad went back to the hotel, I showed Dan The Loft and he got to have yet another Guinness (his new favorite beer).

The rest of the week, was split between class and seeing my family. Dan left on Monday because he had to get back to work, but my parents and I had some hilarious adventures during the rest of the trip, not to mention some fabulous meals. Monday was Two Fat Ladies (one of the women remembered me from my earlier visit with Sam and Jess), Tuesday was La Parmigiana, Wednesday was Paperinos (with Di), and Thursday was The Ubiquitous Chip, where we opted for an authentic Scottish meal, instead of Thanksgiving dinner (not that we had much choice). On Tuesday, since I didn't have class, we drove out to Ayr to get the Rabbie Burns experience, and then to Paisley to see their museum. I'm not that interested in the Paisley pattern, but I did enjoy the exhibit on the Scottish artist Alexander Goudie. I only wish I could find some of his prints. On Wednesday we saw the Glasgow Cathedral (go St. Mungo!) and the St. Mungo's Museum of Religious Life and Art, which I found fascinating and very informative. Afterwards we went to the famous Willow Tearooms, designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh. Unfortunately, the famous room is only used for special affairs -- but at least we got the feel of the place.

Overall, I was extremely happy to see my family, and it has served as a way to tide me over until I get home. Since the visit I've been mainly writing papers for my two film classes. I did manage to get over to Edinburgh last Wednesday with Di to see Xixi play in her symphony concert, which was a lot of fun and a nice break. We also went to Edinburgh this past Saturday to see the National Gallery, which was small, but had a couple of interesting pieces, including works by Botticelli, Raphael, and Titian.

I turned in my papers today, so I'm officially 2/3 of the way done with my classes. Di, Xixi and I are headed off to Rome on Saturday, coming back on Tuesday. I can't adequately explain how excited I am about seeing all the artwork and architecture, as well as the nicer weather. It's supposed to be 50 degrees there!

Some more confusing pronounciation and spelling differences:

manuever vs. manouevre
filet is pronounced "fillit"

As soon as the photos are up on Picasa I'll post a link to the pictures from the visit. And I promise I'll update when we get back from Rome. It'll be a good study break when I'm cramming for my Scottish Lit exam!

EDIT: Here are the pics -- A Family Affair

Amsterdam

2008-11-09T15:14:00.002-05:00

I spent 48 and a half hours in Amsterdam from Thursday to Saturday.

I went to the Anne Frank house.

And since Dublin...

2008-11-09T14:52:00.003-05:00

The week after Di and I got back from Dublin was filled with preparation -- for paper deadlines, for Sam and Jessica's visit, and for Halloween. I had my first essays due on November 3rd, so I had to watch movies and reread books and articles, but somehow I managed to bang them out.

In more exciting news, Di, Kara, Kristie and I went to see Quantum of Solace on October 31st, since it comes out in the UK a couple of weeks early. I enjoyed it, but not nearly as much as Casino Royale. The plot was a little all over the place, but I still think it ranks above many of the lesser Bond films, especially Die Another Day.

The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to work out my costume. I went as a mime for Halloween, and had all the necessary clothing (black pants, a striped shirt, and a beret I bought in Paris), but I needed to find makeup. Unfortunately, I was pretty late to the game, so the only thing I could find was white eye-shadow. And that's what I smeared all over my face, along with purple eye-liner (I don't own any black), and a little mascara on my lips because I didn't have black lipstick (in retrospect, I might have slightly poisoned myself by doing so). I'll put my pictures up soon and let you all judge if the results match the effort. I think it turned out okay.

Di was Sarah Palin, and put a lot of effort into her hair. It's amazing that Palin does it everyday -- I can't quite figure out how anyone does an up-do like that. We met up with Kristie and her roommate Mel at Oran Mar, or "the church bar" as most seem to call it. We all walked over to this house party Kristie's friend had been invited to. Supposedly the house once belonged to the creator of the Scottish soda Irn Bru, and now was just a house rented by a group of international students. We all thought that it was a pretty open party, but it was fairly quiet when we arrived, and everyone seemed to know each other. It also was a BYO, so after a few minutes of appreciating the decoration, Di and I decided to bail, and head over to Halloween Cheesy Pop at the QMU. I heard that the party picked up a bit later, but we were already entrenched in the QMU line at that point.

The line was down the block and around the corner when we got to the QMU. We waited on it (in the freezing cold) for a little less than two hours. Luckily, the people behind us were very friendly, and we chatted with them to pass the time. Finally, after being pushed and shoved up the stairs to the main doors, we got in, got drinks, and danced the remaining two hours of Cheesy Pop away up on the balcony. A Finnish man we had been waiting in line with followed us around and kept spitting on my neck as he tried to whisper in my ear, and when he left, asked Di if we were lesbians (I was in the bathroom at the time). He later reappeared (again, I wasn't there -- I was talking to someone in the bar) and asked Di to dance, as well as asking her if she usually dressed like a school teacher. CREEP.

Saturday was a day of recovery, and finishing up my essays. Di and I went back to the QMU for a concert that evening, by this folk singer Seth Lakeman. One cool thing about the concert was the Swedish all-female country band that opened for him. Sort of like the Dixie Chicks from Sweden. All in all the concert was okay, a little long for an artist I didn't know, but there was this crazy woman sitting next to me who kept drumming on the table with her hands off-rhythm. By the end of the night she was up on her feet and dancing really awkwardly, almost in my face because of the tight space. I just ended up feeling bad for her husband, who was quietly and politely sitting next to her, and looking unhappy about the entire situation.

After Sam and Jess showed up we hung out on Sunday and Monday. We went to the Burrell Collection, which was neat because there were some pieces by Rodin, Manet, and Degas there, so the Art History student in me was happy. We also went to the Ubiquitous Chip and the Loft for dinner and drinks with Di, and I'm definitely taking my parents and Dan back to the Chip. Excellent food all around.

On Monday we had tea at the Buchanan Tea Rooms (since the Willow Tea Rooms close at 5, and I had been in class until then), and then had dinner at Two Fat Ladies, a tiny seafood restaurant on Dumbarton Rd. More great food, especially the cullen skink, which is the Scottish equivalent of New England clam chowder.

Tuesday night a bunch of Americans stayed up to watch the election in the TV lounge in the reception building. Di and I bought a LOT of snacks that we didn't even come close to finishing, and alcohol that we didn't drink. It was exhausting to stay up until 5:30 AM, but we saw all of it, from the exhilarating moment when they announced Obama had won Pennsylvania, to the wonderful speeches from both candidates. I'll admit it, I teared up a bit. Okay, a lot.

Wednesday was November 5th, so Guy Fawkes Day, so Di and I watched V for Vendetta in the afternoon. Glasgow, in a hilarious move, actually postponed their fireworks until Thursday because of the Celtic v. Manchester United match. Di and I walked down to the Loft to see the match on the big screen after we finished the movie.

That about covers it, I think. I still have plenty of photos to put up, but at least I'm basically up to date on the text side.

A Much Needed Update

2008-11-09T14:27:00.003-05:00

Gah, I'm so behind on this thing. When Sam and Jessica showed up the blog got pumped down a few spots on my list (with good reason). So, where was I?

Oh yes, so Di and I finally made it to our hostel in Dublin. We stayed at the Abraham House, along a row of other hostels and cheap B&Bs in the center of the city. It was a perfectly nice place, clean and respectable. We stayed in a room that held 10 girls, and there was a bathroom en-suite, so just for that it wins points over the Young and Happy Hostel in Paris. There was a bit of hilarity connected to the hostel room, since the main door wouldn't stay closed unless you locked it (and since there was only one key, this lead to getting up at 3AM to let people in), and the bathroom door had the tendency to stay shut unless you really worked the doorknob (also leading to 3AM tug of wars with the bathroom door).

At any rate, after a good sleep on Saturday night, we got up fairly early on Sunday and headed into town. I have now learned to mistrust the "included breakfast" hostels advertise. This was even worse that in Paris -- orange juice, coffee, and toast. Just toast. At least they had a variety of spreads, but it was a pretty meager offering. You get what you pay for, I guess.

Di and I walked over to O'Connell Street again, encountering the famed Spire, built in 2003 for no apparent reason. It's just ... very tall. Dublin is also a very touristy city, and on our three block walk from our hostel to O'Connell Street we saw about 3 or 4 gift shops. Unsure of the layout of the city, Di and I bought tickets for those sight-seeing double decker buses. It was nice to have a bit of a tour, but in retrospect an unnecessary buy -- Dublin is a very manageable city for walking around.

We got off at Dublin Castle, which does offer tours for its private chambers, but it being Sunday, they were closed. So we strolled around the grounds, and then, perusing our map, realized we were close to Christ Church. We managed to see both that and St. Patrick's Cathedral on Sunday, which was great, considering my love of cathedrals. I've yet to get to St. Mungo's or Glasgow Cathedral in Glasgow, but they're on my list.

We spent the rest of Sunday (and frankly, Monday as well) strolling around and taking in Glasgow. Monday was the Dublin Marathon, so it made navigating our way to the National Gallery a little difficult, but we managed it. The National Museum and the Natural History Museum are closed on Mondays (darn it), so there's still plenty to see if I want to go back. And the shrine to St. Valentine was closed, so Di and I couldn't go and glare at him for making such a depressing holiday. Our nighttime adventures also make less than exciting reading (although we enjoyed them). On both nights after dinner (Italian on Sunday, and Mexican on Monday) we went to a pub in the Temple Bar district, had a drink or two, and then went to the movies. We saw High School Musical 3 and Eagle Eye. On the plus side, I discovered a beer I actually like -- Paulaner, a German wheat beer.

But probably the most ridiculous part of our trip was the Guinness Storehouse. No one would say that Di or I was a fan of beer, and Guinness is definitely not even close to drinkable for me. But we went because everyone said it was a necessary experience, and I did have a good time. The entire museum is built around a pint-shaped atrium, and as you can see in the album there's plenty of things to read and interact with. Aside from the incredible pompous atmosphere (the yeast used in Guinness is a "national treasure"; the story of the transportation of Guinness is the story of transportation itself) it was kind of a fun trip. Of course they give you awful stuff to taste, but in the end they do offer a free pint in the Gravity Bar, which is at the top of the Storehouse and provides a 360 degree view of the city. Di and I opted for a free soft drink, instead of a pint of Guinness.

My favorite part was definitely the small exhibit about the advertising for Guinness throughout the years. But that's just me being a dork. Although it's pretty amazing to think that doctors were once really ok with just saying that "Guinness is good for you."

The Oscar Wilde memorial was also fantastic. It's just a statue of him in Merrion Square, across from the American College of Dublin, where he lived for a time. But the statue utterly captures his entire attitude, and is completely fitting. So props to Dublin on that one.

I know I'm forgetting loads of stuff, but that's the price of my laziness, and not updating for two weeks. Next post is everything since Dublin.

I Don't Think I'm Very Good at This

2008-11-02T05:14:00.003-05:00

Especially since I continue to update this blog sporadically, and then have to account for a lot of things that have happened in between posts. But at least my Dublin photos are up!

Luck o' the Irish

Right now I'm waiting for a call from Sam and Jessica, letting me know that they're either at their hotel in Glasgow or on the way. I got up early and everything for them, but nothing yet. Oh well, at least it's motivated me to actually write in my blog. I guess if they call I'll just come back to this later, maybe post the entry in halves.

Anyway, so after the incredibly wet, yet exciting adventure Di and I had last Saturday afternoon, we packed up and got ready to go to Prestwick for our flight at 11 PM. The plan was to take a bus from Buchanan Bus Station to the airport, and we were all set to catch an 8:50 PM bus. It was still raining hard, however, so we didn't really want to walk back down to the subway station. I arranged for a cab to pick us up at 8:20 (calling them a full two hours before), but it never came. We missed our bus and had to call another cab to take us straight to Prestwick, which was much more expensive, but at least we didn't miss our flight.

The flight itself was fine, although our plane seemed to be populated almost entirely with Irish football hooligans, spouting racist epithets and singing way too loudly for that time of night. Right before we took off a soggy baseball cap fell on my face, seemingly out of nowhere. I asked around to see if it was anyone's, but no one ever claimed it, so I just left it on the plane. We got into Dublin around 12:30 on Sunday morning, shortly before the clocks changed over here (they have a different date for daylight savings time, so for this week only the time difference between NY and Glasgow is only four hours -- crazy). There were some shenanigans with locating a bus into the city centre, but finally we made it to O'Connell Street, one of the main thoroughfares of Dublin.

Oops, there's Sam and Jess -- more later!

Predeparture Info

2008-10-25T14:14:00.003-04:00

I thought I'd sneak in a blog before Di and I head off to Dublin tonight. There are a couple of things I forgot to mention between my War and Peace sized Paris entries and the rushed attempt at summarizing my life previous to them.

Some things of note: My friend Nick celebrated his birthday earlier this month with a "subcrawl," and invited me and Di along. A subcrawl is an extension of the "pubcrawl" concept, where you go from bar to bar, getting at least one drink at each. The subcrawl takes this even farther, so that the party goes to a different pub at each stop on the "Clockwork Orange" (Glasgow's subway system). It sounds like a fun idea, and it was to a degree, but the amount of time between pubs left me feeling ill more than hammered. And it's a lot of liquid to put in your stomach, since there are 15 (or so) stops in all. Probably the coolest part of the subcrawl was the stipulation that you had to "subway surf" to each stop, meaning no one was allowed to sit down or hold onto anything on the tube, you just had to ride the bumps out. And since the subway is so small, and we were all getting increasingly inebriated, this was no small feat. Oh, and we got to see the stadium where the Rangers play, so that was kinda cool. Di and I made it just about halfway before wimping out -- it was a Wednesday afternoon, and under no circumstances could either of us be called a "party girl."

I used way too many quotation marks in that last paragraph.

Di and I did attempt to go out another night to one of the clubs on Sauchiehall St., the Garage. It's supposed to be a major hotspot for Glasgow's student community, but apparently that's not really true on a Monday night. It's probably our fault for picking a Monday night at all, but that's when the spirit filled us, so off we went. The experience was sort of lackluster, and after paying for some expensive drinks we hit the dance floor, to be surrounded by sketchy creeps and a multitude of gay men. We left early, again. :)

As for classes, things have been heating up in terms of my workload. I have two essays due in a week, and I've finally been down to the resource room in the Film and TV studies building. It's pretty nice, and has a good collection for some of the more obscure films that my classes cover, but I still miss Van Pelt Library at Penn. On a related note, I'm starting to wonder if my Scotland, Film and TV professor things I'm a little slow. He keeps coming up to me during the break in our seminar and asking if I understand everything, if I need anything explained. The odd thing about it is he never asks the other American student, Zach, who sits right next to me. I think Professor Goode is trying to be nice, but it generally comes off as condescending. Then again, he's the professor who never makes eye contact when lecturing, instead staring at the ceiling on his left side. So maybe it's him being socially awkward, instead of patronizing.

Oh, I almost forgot -- last weekend Kara, Xixi, Di and I went to the Glasgow Science Centre. I need to put those photos up on Picasa -- for those of you on facebook, they're already up. It was a sort of silly trip, since the Centre definitely targets a younger audience, but we all enjoyed messing around with the exhibits. Plus the Centre is right on the river Clyde, which made for a really pretty view. It's also next to the BBC Scotland building, which made me, and no one else, very excited.

All right, I need to finish packing, but I'll leave you with an account of today. Di and I are taking an 11 PM flight to Dublin because we had already bought tickets to a Celtics match before we booked our flights. So after a delicious lunch at Ashoka (rated one of the best Indian restaurants in Glasgow -- I highly recommend it), we took the subway down to Buchanan Bus Station, and after walking a couple blocks to the correct bus stop, grabbed a bus to Parkhead, where Celtic Park is. It's been very wet for the past couple of days, but today was just a torrential downpour. Di and I were already soaked when we walked down to lunch, but trekking over to the stadium was even worse. My shoes had puddles in them, and my jacket had changed color completely. Thank god it's waterproof.

We finally made it into the stadium, which has overhangs covering the seating, but leaves the pitch open to the elements, so the wind was pretty tremendous. I felt awful for the players, though they put on a great show. The Celtics were playing Hibernian, from Edinburgh, and it was amazing to be surrounded by vociferous fans. Thankfully, the most rabid ones weren't in the nosebleed section with us. We were right next to a pole, but could see around it for the most part, and I don't think we missed much because of our location. The best part was the reaction of the tiny Hibernian-supporters section, who were completely surrounded by security guards. All in all, it was a fantastic experience, and both Di and I will probably try to get tickets again.

When we finally got back to the bus stop, we were probably 102% water, and incredibly cold. The weather created traffic problems, so it took at while to get a bus back to City Centre, but we managed to hop on one that actually dropped us off only a block or so from Murano. Some dinner, a hot shower, and a change into fresh clothes later, and here I am. I think I'm going to buy a Celtics scarf or jersey or something. It was really incredible to be a part of that, and I definitely felt like it was something you don't get in the U.S., although now I kind of want to go to an American football game. Anyway, it was a great prelude to another international adventure.

Now I should go blowdry my hair.

Omelet du Fromage?

2008-10-13T14:17:00.003-04:00

I went to Paris for the first time this past weekend. I had been two France two years ago for Penn-in-Cannes (which was a stupendous experience), but had only spent a few fleeting moments in Charles de Gaulle in a mad dash to make my connecting flight home from Nice (well, as much of a mad dash as you can make when in an aircast).

Anyway, here's the collection of notes I made over the course of the weekend:

10/10/08
"Oh what a day -- unexpected and frustrating at times, but still pretty cool. Got up at 3:45 AM to catch a 4:30 taxi from Murano to Glasgow Prestwick Airport. Arrived at Prestwick around 5:15 (it was raining, big surprise).

Check-in was very easy, took at most a minute, since it was so early that there was literally no line. Ryanair is so budget, our names were handwritten on our tickets.

I'm beginning to think that British candy bar companies only came up with about 5 unique ideas and just rebrand them with a catchy title -- what's the difference between all these caramel, nougat and cereal bars? Mars Planets vs. Galaxy Maltsers vs. whatever else they call them. Interestingly, I have seen white chocolate Twix, which I should try.

The flight was fine, and I actually slept a little. An adorable but surprisingly loud 2 year old girl sat behind me. Xixi was in the aisle, I was in the window seat, and the girl woke both of us up several times with her vocalizing. Paris-Beauvais, the airport we flew into, was covered in fog, and after trying to land several times, they had to divert the plane to Lilles Airport, with the promise of buses back to Beauvais. As it happened, Lilles is 2 hours away from Beauvais by bus, and then another hour to Paris. They also said there was a direct route to Paris, which turned out to be a shuttle to the train station at Lilles. Never mind the fact that the shuttle bus couldn't fit all 250 people on our flight, and the company only sent one. And the fact that the train tickets were 55 Euro (or 37.50 for students, as we found out). Xixi and I shared a cab with two other women from our flight to the train station.

The train station looked very familiar -- I feel like I've seen it in a movie or something. I tried to read Waverley on the train (since I was supposed to finish it by Monday) but passed out again. We finally got to Paris around 2 PM, arriving at Gare du Nord. After struggling to figure out the metro system, I caved in a bought a cheap guidebook from a newsagent. Xixi and I found the route to the Eiffel Tower, and headed over.

We got a fairly cheap lunch at a brasserie across from the metro station, indulging in our first honest to goodness French meal. Xixi got a cheese platter and I got a savory crepe (makes me think of Penn, oddly). She also got chocolate fondant for dessert. Mmmm. We trekked over to the Eiffel Tower, but unfortunately the top was filled to capacity, so we could only go to the second floor. The view was amazing, and I took many, many photos. Actually, taking tons of pictures was pretty much par for the entire trip. Link below.

Another trip on the metro, with several switches to get to the Latin Quarter, where the hostel was. We stayed at the Young and Happy Hostel, where Jacqueline lived for a couple of weeks a few years ago. It was clean and fine, though I'm clearly too spoiled to live the backpacking life for too long. At the hostel there was an advertisement for an airport shuttle for 17 Euro a person, which seemed like a pretty good deal. But it turns out that's a lie, it's only for CDG and Orly. Beauvais is so far away it would cost nearly 100 Euro. So we ended up taking a shuttle for much less from a far away metro stop on Sunday. Took a little longer, but it was significantly cheaper.

We had dinner near our hostel (kebabs) and walked around the Latin Quarter before we got some dessert (I had creme brulee, Xixi got chocolate mousse). I would say on the whole I ate very well while in Paris. After more strolling we headed back to the hostel, where we were surprised to find most of the beds in our room filled with sleeping people, even though it was only about 10:30. Apparently they were all as tired as we were."

10/11/08

"Accomplished a lot today, basically all I wanted to do. Fell asleep right after writing last night -- tried to read some Waverley, no use. I guess I'll have to finish it tomorrow. Since I went to bed so early, woke up before my alarm at 7:50. Got dressed and headed downstairs to get the breakfast included in our stay at the hostel. Breakfast was a croissant, mini baguette, orange juice and the option of coffee, tea, or hot chocolate as well as the choice to have cereal. I forgot how much bread they consume here. I had coffee for the first time on this trip -- so much better than the stuff they have in Scotland, even the cheap stuff the hostel serves. After breakfast, we headed out to the metro at Place du Monge, and over to the Louvre.

We got to the Louvre at 10, and there was almost no line! It was very easy to get tickets, and we saw the Mona Lisa with very little crowd. Also saw the Venus de Milo, Dying Slave, among a variety of other works. I almost saw the Code of Hammurabi, but got separated from Xixi in the Egyptian section (she went to the bathroom, and I waited on a bench on the other side of a large statue, but she didn't see me sit down, and so went on without me). She had my cellphone and my wallet (ask if you want a full explanation), but I had checked my backpack, so I could use the international calling card and a payphone to call my cell and told Xixi to meet up at the information booth under the pyramid.

While waiting for Xixi I ran into Corey Feldman, a kid I went to Hebrew school with, who also goes to Penn and I had Hebrew with freshman year. What are the odds? He's in Tel Aviv, on break now and visiting Paris. Crazy.

After finding each other again Xixi and I walked all the way down the Champs de Elysees, saw the Arch near the Louvre and the Arc du Triomphe. Had lunch at a cafe on a street off of the Champs, had a salad for the first time in months. They gave me frites, too, which was a little odd. Later on we got ice cream -- vanilla caramel brownie, mmm. After we got to the Arc we took the subway down to Notre Dame.

I'm absolutely in love with Notre Dame. I kept having flashbacks to Disney's Hunchback, but honestly it was overwhelmingly beautiful. I love Gothis architecture, I only wish I had gotten to take a tower tour. In fact, we almost didn't get to go in -- there was a demonstration of some sort around the corner, and police in riot gear showed up and closed the cathedral. We then walked all around the isle and tried to go to Saint Chapelle, but that was closed early, too. On the plus side, when we walked by Notre Dame again, there was almost no line, so we got to go in right before mass at 6:30.

We had dinner at Cafe du Esmerelda -- duck confit with (once again) frites. We walked around some more, found a patisserie (chocolate eclair for me, brownie for Laura and a brioche for the next day, which she accidentally squished in her bag, :(), and headed back to the hostel. We're watching the World Cup Qualifying match between France and Romania now."

10/12/08

"Up at 9 AM, free breakfast again. Xixi and I walked around the Latin Quarter, got chocolate to take back at a local chocolatier (white and milke with macadamia nut) and a raisin baguette at a patisserie (for lunch). Laura got a proper brioche and a cute chocolate ghost with mixed chocolates in the middle.

Then took the subway over to Porte Maillot, caught bus to Beauvais (about an hour long ride) for 13 Euro. Easy check-in again, real tickets this time, and easy security check. But our flight was delayed by (you guessed it) fog -- the first flight of the day had to be diverted, so all later flights were pushed back. Finally got on plane, easy ride home and after a bus and subway and walk to Murano, finally got back to my room. What a trip!"

Here's the photo album again. Kudos if you made it all the way through this post:

Two Days in Paris

Plenty to catch up on

2008-10-13T13:16:00.002-04:00

Hi again. I know it's been far too long since I updated (in fact, Sarah yelled at me for not blogging frequently enough), and I don't really have an excuse for my behavior except for the adjustment to classes. I probably can't recall or cover all of my activities since Rosh Hashanah, but I'll try to highlight a few. So let's think back, back, waaaaaay back to a couple of weeks ago:

I went back to Garnethill Synagogue for the second day of Rosh Hashanah. My experience with the Orthodox service was even less fulfilling this time, and I actually left the service before the conclusion of Musaf because I felt that I just wasn't getting much out of it.

Because of this I looked into my options for Yom Kippur, and decided to try the Glasgow Reform Synagogue (GRS). It took a lot of finagling to get a ticket for the service, mostly because of some decidely unhelpful people at the Movement for Reform Judaism (MRJ). The day after Rosh Hashanah I spoke to a very nice woman at GRS who told me that it would be fine for me to attend Yom Kippur, and gave me the bus routes to get out to Newton Mearns (yet another Glasgow suburb), but that I should call the MRJ to get a free ticket since I was under 30, and GRS needed my information for security reasons. So I called MRJ, and got an answering machine. I played phone tag for the next two business days (Friday and Monday), and couldn't get a hold of the woman at MRJ. Finally on Monday afternoon I called their main number and managed to get ahold of someone else in the department, who told me that it was too late, they had already sent the list of guests to GRS. Completely frustrated, I called GRS back, and thankfully they were very accommodating, and took down my information immediately, telling me that I could pick up my ticket at the door before Kol Nidre.

I was interested to see what the British definition of reform Judaism would be, especially since there seems to be no Conservative Movement in the UK. But it was pretty much like the services I remember from Larchmont Temple (from my brief visits during bar mitzvah season), with a fair amount of English, but fewer songs. I would say I was more comfortable than I had been at Garnethill, but the tunes were still different, and strangely enough, the custom of beating your chest during the al-chaits was not practiced, so I felt a little weird doing it by myself (but still did so -- there are some things you stick with). Overall, my experiences during the High Holidays here confirmed that I should belong to a Conservative synagogue, and will avoid observing them away from my family, since I really missed them.

Other miscellaneous events over the past couple of weeks:

- Di, Kara and I went to the Big Pub Quiz night at the QMU, where we lost severely due to our lack of knowledge about British-specific pop culture. Metric measurements, British TV shows, and British zoology knocked us out early. We'll have to get a native on our time for the next time.

- Classes are good, but not too demanding at this point. All that will change in about a week, when I have to write two papers after almost half a year of not doing anything of the sort. Should be fun.

- As for extracurricular activities, I actually haven't done any theatre here. I'm not just very impressed with what they have to offer -- it all seems sort of slapdash and thrown together. But I am looking into learning how to produce for Subcity, the student radio station. It's got a very good reputation (relying on students and volunteers) and supposedly I'll get a very high level of training. I've already been submitting reviews to the website for the music team, though it appears I'm gradually assuming the role of token mainstream girl. What can you do, it's what I listen to.

I'm going to break off here and devote a full post to my Paris trip, which was this past Friday to Sunday with Xixi. Hopefully this will tide Sarah over in the meantime. :)

Paris Pictures

2008-10-12T19:46:00.002-04:00

So tired ... full explanation of trip to come. And maybe a reference to what I've been doing for the past week or so. But here's the link to the album to tide you over. Now I'm gonna go pass out:

Two Days in Paris

Shana Tovah, Meh-Glasgow (A Good Year, From Glasgow)

2008-09-30T15:18:00.003-04:00

Whew. So I just got back from a bit of a whirlwind first day of Rosh Hashanah, by far the most exotic and energetic of my life. I thought I should write it all down while I remembered the smaller details, though I'm sure I've already forgotten a bunch of things.

This morning I woke up to rain (surprise, surprise), and after quick breakfast to hold me through services, walked down to Oran Mor, the supposed meeting place for the Jewish Society students. The flyer I was given says: "For those who don't want to go alone, we ar emeeting outside the Oran Mor at 10am to walk into town." As a side note, the Oran Mor is the church-turned-pub/theatre that I think I mentioned before. Still haven't been there, but it looks like they also have a nice restaurant.

Anyway, it was a good thing that I was wearing comfortable heels, because I ended up manuevering through lots of puddles, only to wait in the rain for 15 minutes. No one showed up. Thanks, JSoc. I of course neglected to look up the address of the Garnethill Synagogue, and so had no idea where to go. But I headed across the street to the Grosvenor Hilton in hopes of finding a conceirge desk to put me in the right direction. Surprisingly, there was no conceirge that I could see in the Hilton, but a friendly cab driver told me he could get me to Garnethill, although he didn't know where the synagogue was.

After the cab ride I realized exactly how long of a walk it really would have been (probably a half hour or more), so I'll probably take a cab tomorrow, too. We headed up Garnethill St. and the cabbie asked a bystander where the synagogue was. As it happened, we were right next to it. So it seems that somebody up there was looking out for me. After generously tipping the cabbie, I headed into the synagogue.

The random bits of information I've collected about Garnethill Synagogue are very interesting. Apparently it's the oldest synagogue in Glasgow, founded around 1860, though it's clearly been renovated since. The sanctuary is utterly gorgeous, with a domed ark and beautiful stained glass windows. It can probably hold around 200-250 people, but that was for a long time ago. The Jewish population of the UK has been shifting down to London and Manchester, or at least moving out to the suburbs of Glasgow, leaving the cities of Scotland with very small congregations. Someone sitting near me commented on the large turnout Garnethill had for the high holidays, and there were approximately 50 people there.

Garnethill is an Orthodox Synagogue, and so obviously this was the first time I've spent Rosh Hashanah not in a Conservative setting. And boy did I miss it. The women sat in the balcony, and I felt utterly disconnected from the service. This could also be because of the average age of the congregation, which tended towards the elderly. The rabbi read very, very fast through Shacharit and the Torah service, although Musaf took forever. Almost all of the melodies for the songs were different, which might also have added to the separation I felt.

Other random observances:
-The women wore amazing hats, which sort of reminded me of the Church-hat phenomenon you see in movies (and I suppose in some churches)
- Along with the prayer for the state of Israel, there is a blessing for the Queen. I suppose it's logical, but I never thought about it.
- There was much less "announcing" in this service, from the page numbers to the specific prayers.
-The rabbi's sermon was very short (under 15 minutes).

The neat thing about the congregation was their singing. A bunch of the men got up during Musaf and harmonized for each song, almost like a barbershop quartet (though I think there were more of them). It was very pretty, but the rest of the congregation didn't really join in, which made me miss the interactive aspect at home.

I was probably more homesick today than I have been in a while. I really missed being with my family, from the comfort food of the night before, to leaning over to someone during the service. It was tough to read the immortal line "all ye people clap your hands" and not have a brother to snicker about it with. I miss you all a lot.

During the service a kind woman came over to me and pointed out (who I thought to be) Ms. Jesner. In fact, it was another woman whose husband was driving me to the Jesners for lunch. The Jesners don't belong to Garnethill, in fact they live out in Giffnock, a suburb of Glasgow almost 40 minutes away by bus. But the Jesners were wonderful, welcoming people who served a scrumptious, home cooked meal (despite being kosher food, which you can only really get sent from Manchester). No apples and honey (they said that's only done at dinner), but challah and honey, matzah ball soup, roasted vegetables, chicken, meat pastries, fruit, chopped liver, fresh melons, brownies, wine, home-made ice cream, and an apple-pie meringue (which was interesting, but yummy). Two American students from St. Andrews were also there for lunch, one from Poundridge and one from Philly! Funny how small the world really is.

The Jesners have two daughters and a son, though the son is in Japan, and so wasn't home for the holidays. Their Uncle Harry (not sure if he was actually related), a 90+ year old semi-famous band leader was also there, and he was pretty amusing. Apparently the BBC made a TV documentary about him last year. Harry Margolis, I'll have to look it up.

I was there nearly all afternoon, from about 2:00 to 6:00. The Jesners were nice enough to give me their number and said I could come back anytime, which was really sweet. I finally caught the bus/subway back to Hillhead, rushed home to do tashlich on the foot bride, and finally take off my heels. That's not even all of my adventure, but that's all I can manage at this point. It's back to the synagogue tomorrow, and then I imagine I'll just take a nap.

L'shana tovah, everyone.

I'm So Lazy

2008-09-26T12:35:00.002-04:00

I keep telling myself to do a blog post, but the minute I sit down at my computer all energy seems to rush out of me. It's basically a miracle that I'm writing this right now. :)

So much to catch up on, I'm going to have to be pretty selective. First off, classes. The semester finally started here on Monday, and after all the anxiety and finagling of enrollments last week, I'm surprisingly very happy with my classes. I've managed to take film classes I'm actually interested in, and at the moment I'm only in class 3 days a week. I could get used to this UK system thing.

The two film classes that I'm so excited about are both in non-American cinema, which is a requirement for my cinema studies major at Penn. I'm taking Australia in Film and Television, and Scotland, Film and Television. A somewhat humorous aside -- both of my professors are named Ian, and their last names are Craven and Goode. Kinda weird. The classes are relatively small seminars, meet once a week for five hours each (screening time included) and in both cases I've had some great discussions. The themes and issues of Scottish and Australian cinema actually seem very similar, and I'm interested in seeing if the similarities continue throughout the semester. Both of my professors are very accommodating and the native students seem welcoming and friendly. So far, so good.

The last class is Scottish Literature 1A, which is the most introductory class you can take. It's a large survey with probably about 100 kids in the class (which is smaller than some of the lectures I've had at Penn), and our seminars/recitations/tutorials or whatever you call them start next week, provided we actually get assigned them before next Tuesday. I really wanted to take Celtic Civilizations 1A, but the cinema classes screwed with my schedule. I'm not totally into the Scot Lit class so far, but it's high time that I took an English class, and hopefully this one will prove more enticing as we get into the material. We're looking mainly at the 19th and early 20th centuries, with texts from Sir Walter Scott, James Hogg, Robert Louis Stevenson, Hugh MacDiarmid, and Lewis Grassic Gibbon. Unfortunately, not all the books are available in the book store, so I have to go hunting for "Sunset Song."

Oh, yeah, the book situation. My film courses have way too long a reading list for me to actually purchase the books, and I wasn't particularly interested in lugging them home after the semester, so earlier this week I headed over to the library to survey the situation. The Glasgow Uni library is a pretty nice place -- 12 floors, too many computers to count, and a lot of little study cubicles. Unfortunately, there's no Mark's Cafe, only vending machines, and you're not allowed to bring coffee or tea in, even if there's a lid on the container. There's a "eating and drinking" section right by the entrance that made me feel like I was in the cordoned smoking section of a restaurant. But I digress.

The library has a significant "short loan" section immediately on the left as you enter. There you can take out books for 4 hours, 24 hours, or a week, complete with self-service check in and return. I found the books I needed for this weeks Australian reading, and then went to the regular lending desk to find out about the photocopies my professor had said he'd made for us. What I discovered was that each article had its own folder, with the article literally taped down to the folder, so you can't feed it into the copy machine. No two-sided copies for me. You also can't take more than two folders out at a time, regardless of the fact that my professor assigned five readings. So I took out the first two, went upstairs to the photocopy room on the third floor, and went back down to return those two and take out new ones. God, do I miss bulk packs.

Other exciting news from the week? On Wednesday I went to Edinburgh for the Scottish-students meeting of the Penn-Cornell-Brown UK Centre. They reimbursed me for my bus ticket, which was under 10 pounds, and bought me a cup of hot chocolate from The Hub, where the meeting took place. It was a lot of administrative stuff that I don't need to go into, but the women running the meeting were very nice, and they'll be back up the week of Thanksgiving for another meeting, this time stopping by Glasgow. If I want to get reimbursed for my cultural bonus (75 pounds provided by Penn to do some culturally British things) they'll pay me back in cash then.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with Xixi, walking around Olde Town and the campus of the University of Edinburgh and wishing I had brought my camera along with me. I didn't remember much of Edinburgh from my previous trip 10 years ago, but when I went this week I really noticed the difference between Glasgow and Edinburgh. They just have a very different tone from each other, something that I'm not sure I can really describe. Anyways, we went to a neat little cafe called Chocolate Soup for dessert after dinner, and then I boarded back on the bus to Glasgow.

A random anecdote from my travels: Wednesday was the first time in my life that I've had to pay to get into a bathroom. It was 20p to get into the Buchanan Bus Station "w.c." (water closet), and at first I was pretty annoyed that I had to pay. But when I thought about it, I realized that the bathroom was much cleaner than the bus/train stations I've been to in the States. The bathroom in Penn Station is utterly ridiculous, and several times I've wondered if bums run in there during the day to have toilet paper fights or something. I'm not sure whether it's worth it to pay -- what do you all think?

As for my evenings, I went to Jewsday Tuesday, which was awkward, but fun. At least I sort of know some of the people I'll be walking to schul with next week for Rosh Hashanah now. I also went to the Student Cinema and Television Society (SCATS) social yesterday, but I'm currently battling a cold, so I didn't hang around that long. Tonight Di, Kara, Kristie and I are heading down to Buchanan St. to see the new Liam Neeson movie, Taken. It looks pretty mediocre, but I love Liam Neeson, so I'm still excited.

On final random note. In the library I found that all of the toilets say "for sanitary use only." Does anyone else think that is either highly unnecessary, or highly confusing?

A lot to look at...

2008-09-20T20:52:00.002-04:00

Sorry for the enormous amount of pictures, but I had to cover all of Freshers Week, as well as all the pictures of the campus I need for looking back on this trip twenty years down the road. Hope they're not too boring:

http://picasaweb.google.com/ashs2ashs/FreshersWeek#

Chapter 1: Review

2008-09-20T09:26:00.002-04:00

So I'm sitting here in the university library waiting for Di to finish up with her auditions for the Canterbury tales, and I figured I'd use the time to share some lessons I've learned from my experiences so far. I desperately need to update the blog about the bajillions of things that happened during Freshers Week, but these tidbits don't really have a place in that post, so I'm sticking them here. So ... yeah, more info on the past week to come (since I'm sure everyone is waiting with baited breath) plus pictures! However, for the moment, I leave you with this:

1. As an American in the UK, you must be careful to refer to pants as "trousers," or else risk complimenting someone on their underwear.

2. British keyboards have some small differences that are just bothersome enough to slow down my typing. For example, the "@" symbol and the quotation marks are switched, leading me to frequently type my email address as cited material. The shift key is smaller, the enter key farther to the left and bigger, and both the $ and the £ symbols appear.

3. Napkins refers explicitly to sanitary napkins, while you use servilletes (or something like that) at meals. Haven't actually come across this confusion yet, but I was warned about it.

4. I have yet to see true "skim" milk -- only "skimmed" aka 1%.

5. I also cannot find Sour Patch products, which is depressing. Thank god I have the crispy M&Ms to tide me over.

6. 70s-style concrete buildings remain ugly, regardless of their country of origin.

The rest of my lessons are mainly about how I love Victorian architecture, and just old stuff in general. Everything here has such history, most of which I will only learn the littlest bit about. There's a lot to see, and not a lot of time to see it, and that's before I even leave Glasgow.

Oh, also -- I really hate when the American students try to put on British accents while talking to natives. Seriously, you're not fooling anyone.

Pictorial Representations, pt. 1

2008-09-15T12:21:00.003-04:00

The first batch of photos, care of Picasa:

http://picasaweb.google.com/ashs2ashs/FirstWeeksInScotland#

Oh What a Strange City

2008-09-14T07:26:00.002-04:00

Now on to happier topics -- trying to remember all the random things I did this week. This will probably be a little spotty, since some things obviously stick out more than others.

I did go see Rocknrolla, the new Guy Ritchie film. I don't know if it has opened in the States yet. I liked it less than Snatch, but I thought it was very entertaining, and Guy Ritchie always has fantastic dialogue. I'd recommend it if you're looking for a throwaway action movie. The neat thing about going was the location, on Ashton Lane, the local hot spot of pubs and bars. The theater is a tiny two-screen venue, with leather armchairs and sofas and screens smaller than the ones in the Larchmont Theater (for those who don't understand that reference, these were probably about a third of the size of regular movie screens). The night before I had been to the bar about the movie theater, called "The Loft," which is a huge space with two giant television screens (larger than the movie screens below it). I was actually lucky enough to be able to watch the final sets of the Murray/Nadal match, which was fantastic since there were some rowdy Scots cheering along with me.

Later on this week Di and I had lunch with two of her fellow Butler University Program students, Nick and Kara. Apparently Nick is a bit of a Youtube star (mongoos150 is his username), but he's also a student at University of Arizona. Kara is from Portland, Oregon, and is studying to become a vet. Anyway, we had some very cheap Indian food, which was a great bargain. We then took a tour of campus (provided by the International Orientation program), and after resting at the dorm for a bit, went out to the Queen Margaret Union and the Glasgow University Union.

Glasgow Uni's two student unions have very different personalities, and within one night of visiting both, I think I know where I belong. The GUU is a very popular place, but it immediately struck me as reminiscent of the frat houses I trolled along with the rest of the freshmen back during NSO at Penn. The QMU on the other hand, was full of awkward, yet eager and friendly people dancing and singing along with the "cheesy pop" played by the DJs on Friday night. To encapsulate the personality types of the place, last night Di and I decided to stay in. Around 8:00, a group of GUU "helpers" burst into our flat armed with vodka and Irn Bru (the official soda of Scotland, more on that later). They gave us and our flatmates free drinks, and proceeded to try to peer pressure us into going to the GUU that night, or at least to the party downstairs in Flat A.

Not wanting to be complete losers, Di and I headed down to Flat A, which was full of students, except for the ones who actually lived there. More GUU-men pushed and pushed and pushed to get us to go there, despite our repeated attempts to explain our desire to just relax tonight, and assuring them that we would go out later in the week when we wanted to. Finally, enough was enough, and Di and I headed back upstairs. On our way out we saw a girl struggling to move in, her giant suitcases too much for her to handle. We grabbed some of her bags and helped her up to Flat H, where we discovered two QMU girls casually talking to some students. They opened the door for us and started a conversation that was very calm and friendly. They remained just as friendly when we told them we were staying in, and threw in a listing of their events for this week as a reminder or option. Overall, the difference between the representatives of the unions was marked. Guess where we're going tonight if the International Society's night out is lame?

Yesterday during the day, Di, Kara and I went down to City Centre to shop around, and explore the area. Of course it was raining, but the area is very cool, and we found a Sainsbury, which was the best part of it. I bought a prepared meal that was probably the best dinner I've had here (except for the lamb saag).

Oh, time for random facts/instances:

- Nick, Di and I encountered a strange sight on Friday: a elderly, completely bald woman walking down the street, wearing a pink tracksuit with the jacket open to reveal her bra and sagging breasts. She casually strolled by us.

- Kara and Nick apparently saw a drunk man kick a rat who was running down the street.

I wish I had more than that -- I'll have to start writing them down, or else I'll forget the good ones. As they say here, cheers!

One Week

2008-09-14T07:19:00.002-04:00

So I've officially been in Glasgow for a week, which is crazy to think (imagine how I'll feel when I hit a month). I've got loads to catch up on, so I'll probably split my recollections up a bit. First, my impressions of the registration system at Glasgow Uni (as they call it here).

Trying to sign up for classes here is the only thing that has made me wholeheartedly believe we do it better in America. The reluctance to divulge information on classes and the curriculum for this semester is mind-boggling. For most schools in the U.S., some form of advanced registration would have occurred last spring, and then you would be able to revise your schedule online for the weeks leading up to classes. Sure, there might be some cancellations or changes in professors or scheduling, but you would know that before walking into your first class.

But I have about a week until classes, and I literally have no idea what the Film, Theatre, and Television department is offering this semester. The only course catalog offered describes lower-level classes, and nothing is offered for the upper level classes (online or in print). After going to the department to ask them directly, I was told they couldn't give me any information (either because they themselves don't know it, or because disclosure to students is not allowed for some reason). I won't know anything until this Thursday, when I go to the enrollment meeting and have to make a decision on the spot.

It just seems ridiculous to me -- why have everything be rushed at the end? If you have a cap on your classes, deal with it early. Then you'll be better able to help out those who are searching for other classes or looking to appeal for a spot in the class. Oh well, not much I can do but complain about it. Hopefully on Thursday I'll finally have a schedule to report back.

Some Sort of Orientation

2008-09-11T11:57:00.002-04:00

Much to my surprise, I find that I have a little bit of "blogger's guilt" (I put that phrase in quotes as if I've heard it somewhere else ...). I actually feel bad that it's been a few days since I've updated, so here's a somewhat complete recap of my first few days in Glasgow.

Over the course of the past couple of days I've managed to grocery shop (finding both Oreos and Crispy M&Ms -- though both took some effort), ride the subway to the City Centre, watch a football match in a real pub, and visit the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. Throw in two days of lecture-hall orientation and a bus tour, and that's been my week in short.

I assume that it'd be pretty tedious to list everything I did in detail, so I'll only recount some of the coolest/strangest moments to date. One of each happened to me last night. After walking around all afternoon with Diana unable to find Sauchiehall street, Di and I went to dinner at the highly recommended The Wee Curry Shop. Delicious lamb saag, and excellent service. However, just as we were finishing up, a lone elderly man at a table behind us began a conversation. It started off as normal enough. Di and I had been discussing the various theatre programs in high school and college that we had participated in, and the man inquired about our experiences, mentioning he was a part-time actor/singer/musician. But within a couple of minutes the conversation became more of a monologue on his part, and soon he was describing his arthritis, OCD habits, and dissatisfaction with the current generation's penchant for swearing. Finally both our checks came, and the man laid a wet kiss on Di and my hands before exiting the restaurant, stopping briefly to chat with the perturbed maitre'd. It was definitely one of the odder experiences of my life, and I worked in NYC this summer.

But after washing our hands and heading out ourselves, Di and I headed over to this local pub Tennent's to watch Scotland vs. Iceland in a World Cup Qualifier. Tennent's brew is on tap all over the University area, so it was neat to actually go into the pub it comes from. This was a legitimate pub as well, packed to the brim with, um, exuberant football fans. We met a couple of other international students there, and ended up being some of the only women in the place, tucked into a corner booth. It was so packed Di and I had to go across the street to go to the bathroom, because it was easy to get out the door than across the pub to their own restrooms. I tried Magner's hard cider, which wasn't that different from the Woodchuck I've had at home. I knew, however, that I was in a real Scottish pub when the bartender looked at me blankly upon my request of a Seabreeze. I had a Smirnoff Ice instead.

It was really thrilling to be a part of the action. Men screamed and cursed at the television screens, and everyone seemed to be having a great time. I didn't really interact with the patrons, but I'm pretty sure they were less than interested in conversation at that point. It was however, the first honest to goodness drink in a pub I've had (we had been to bars the previous nights).

To finish up, some random facts I've learned in the past couple of days:

- No joke, Scottish people really do say "wee"
- To follow that, in our first orientation we were told that the subway here is called "The Clockwork Orange" because of its color and because "it runs in a wee circle"
- "Outwith" replaces "outside," as in "outwith of these dates"
- someone actually said "heaven forfend"
- Sauchiehall Street (which I believe means "willowy place near water") is pronounced sock-ee-hall

Hopefully I'll be more consistent with my postings as the semester goes on -- there should be another soon because I've also got plenty to complain about. For the moment, however, I have to get dressed to go to a ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee), the Scottish equivalent of a barn dance.

Departures and Arrivals

2008-09-06T17:14:00.001-04:00

It's almost 10:20 PM Glasgow-time, and way too many hours since I had proper sleep. I wish it didn't come off as so much of an excuse, but hopefully the notes I took over the course of my travels will be coherent enough to counteract the brevity of my introduction.

(Literally transcribed from my notebook, with exception of annotations in italics):

Leaving for Glasgow today, via NWA flight to Amsterdam. Flight was almost an hour late departing, but served both Club Crackers and Oreos with dinner, so clearly this is a good omen. Sat next to young man, possibly from Netherlands, reading book (in Dutch?) about what I assume are great/controversial leaders in world history. Socrates, Napoleon, Gandhi, MLK Jr., Churchill, Hitler and G. W. Bush made the list.

Slept a little, though now I feel kinda gross, plus I spilled powered non-dairy creamer down my leg. Also, I always feel very awkward about the amount of trash I have to hold onto on airplanes. I'm one of those people who prefers to eat in a clearn, uncluttered space. The fact that I have to wait for the attendants to come by and offer me a trash bag is disconcerting. Same with dirty plates at buffets. Can't just put is somewhere myself, and avoid the hassle? Or at least, my own mental hassle?

Also, sat across aisle from girl who looks like she could be related to Carly (Daucher). Turns out the guy was from Turkey.

Ate a Danish mmm and a smoothie at Schiphol (sp) Airport (I discovered later that I had spelled it right all by myself). Amazing how many signs in English only.

Public restrooms very nice -- stalls more like little rooms (full length, floor to ceiling door), would have taken a pic, but had some reservations about taking photo of restroom (maybe I'll get over that). After each call I make, cell phone has a little message "please wait" instead of date/time -- any ideas on why?

Met Katonah randomly taking same KLM flight to Glasgow. (Katonah is the only other Penn student studying at Glasgow this semester)

Delayed one hour!!

Forgot WebSurf!! But emailed them, called Mom, cross your fingers. (Mom was a hero and scanned in the letter, and it all worked out)

Scottish football players sitting behind us in boarding area. I can't understand a word. This doesn't bode well.

Coming through wisps of clouds, seeing all this beautiful green countryside, farms and villages and hamlets -- so much green ... and a field of windmills! Lots of trees. Gliding in towards the city. This is going to be home for the next four months ... everything is rich colors. Last time I was more interested in Legoland than the real land.

So much unmarred countryside -- lots of isolated houses. Suddenly this sprawling city emerges, very different.

And right before we land -- a field of cows grazing! (We flew right over them, but the cows were completely unperturbed by the noise ... probably used to it by now, I guess).

Now that the introductions are out of the way...

2008-08-29T18:01:00.004-04:00

I'm leaving for Scotland in about a week, but I actually don't want to talk about that. I'd rather discuss something more nationally relevant. Aka, the election.

Now I hate talking about politics with people. I generally dislike arguing, and I've found that unless two people fundamentally agree on a variety of principles, the discussion inevitably turns into an argument. Neither side is going to convince the other to change their mind, so why strain a relationship by attempting to do so? Granted, this is a bit of a generalization. I'm sure there are people out there who have perfectly pleasant bi-partisan chats. But I've yet to be a part of that type of conversation.

What I really want to talk about is not about the specifics of the election -- who you support, what issues are important to you, etc. What's been sticking in my mind is something much simpler than that, something that, conceivably, should resonate with every American, regardless of party. And that is the fact that last night Barack Obama became the first black American to accept the nomination for President.

It struck me suddenly yesterday. I had been so caught up in the hubbub of the election -- the attack ads, the VP selections, the constant media coverage -- that I had forgotten the monumental significance of Obama's candidacy. And I don't mean that in the sense of him being "the messiah of American society" or whatever overblown adjectives you can throw at him. I freely admit to being an Obama supporter, but in this case my praise is not for him, but for America as a whole.

I can't pretend to have the age or the education to fully appreciate or discuss the magnitude of this achievement. I can't quote statistics, cite other historical firsts, or act like I was born any time near the Civil Rights movement, much less have been a part of it. But I can say that more than any other point in my life, I feel like I am living history, that I was witness to something I will proudly tell my grandchildren about. And I imagine that my feelings are only a fraction of those who truly own the moment -- the people who stood up and fought for the equality and standards that I take for granted.

But just think of it, think of how far we've come. Think of the sacrifice and the efforts over the centuries of this country's existence, all the losses and setbacks before this point. Suddenly there is a direct connection between an American history textbook and real life.

It might be silly for me to end on a grand, sweeping note. As I said above, I'm not really qualified to talk about the historical or political gains involved in this situation. I'm just an average American, who's goddamn grateful to be a part of a nation that still views freedom as a real destination, regardless of the type of path we cross to get there.

Um, hello.

2008-08-29T17:51:00.003-04:00

Anyone who knows me well will be a little confused by my decision to start a blog. I'm not very good at keeping a written journal, and even when I had a livejournal back in ye olden days I was reluctant to post particularly personal stories on it. So a blog looks like a pretty bad idea.

But the idea had been sort of stewing in my head for most of the summer, from a modest poetry blog to a grand retelling of all of my escapades. Combine this egoism with my recent decision to baa along with the other study abroad students and have a travel journal and you end up with another addition to the blogspot family.

So prepare for more of the above pompousness (pomposity? That can't be right). With luck I'll accidentally be funny, and with a miracle maybe insightful. To all those who stick around to read, critics and groupies (yeah, right) alike, thanks in advance.

M