its not a hill, it's a mountain when you start out the climb

well heavens. Explaining my Saturday is sort of a hilarious endeavor, but not quite as hilarious as the actual events. My good friend Hope (from UT) is studying abroad in Worcester, England, a city relatively close to Swansea. So we decided to make an excellent memory and go to Bath to see one of Jane Austen's precious cities. my train was due to leave at 6:30 yesterday morning, so friday night I called a taxi, thanks to the advice of my smart roommate, to arrange for a taxi to pick me up at 5:30 sat. morning. So as I was getting ready Saturday morning, I notice the taxi pull up around 5:20. I think, well, how kind, but it's not 5:30 yet. so I wait until 5:30, finish getting dressed, and go outside. My cab driver, that jerk, is gone. Well. plan b. I wake up my girl room mate, borrow her cell phone, call about 7 cab companies, all of which are on a 30 minute wait (ok, but who the hell needs a cab at 5:30 in the morning, besides crazy american girls going to bath on a saturday morning?) until FINALLY, i find someone who says he'll have a cab over there real quick. Actually, as is often the case here, I have to ask two times for him to repeat himself, because it kind of sounds like "o'll'aveeeovadareralequake". I go outside to wait (p.s. I'm not dressed warmly enough, just side note), and lo and behold a taxi pulls up. I think well man are they punctual and run over to flag him down. he sees me, stops, and a guy and a very inebriated young lady get out. I say to the cabbie "oh! is this taxi for me?" And he, confused says, "um...sure if you need one". So I hop in and realize, oh, my taxi is probably still on the way. Oh well, it doesn't matter. This guy is so nice and flies to the train station, making my taxi fare less than it normally is for such a trip. He asks me all about my trip and where I'm from and wishes me well, and I go catch my train. It is an uneventful ride, I finish my Anne Lamott book that I got from my sweet grandparents for Christmas, and I am further convinced of my dear love for her writing. Anne Lamott loves her dog, and this quote from her book made me smile so big, "Lily [the dog] ran off with her stick, bounded up the steep hillside, then doubled back to check in with me. She loves me the way I love Jesus, falling into a trance of dispair when she can't feel me." Another amazing quote by her: "And yet, having confessed this, I know that humans want and need exactly the same thing: to belong, to feel safe and respected. I also know that we don't live long. and that dancing almost always turns out to be a good idea..."

So, feeling lighthearted, warm, and mellow, and deeply missing my dogs, my train arrives in Bath at 8:30 am. I get off, get a latte, go the bathroom and fix my hair, and continue to read. I know that my friend Hope isn't due to arrive until an hour after I arrived. Well, it gets to be around 9:20, and I go to the information desk to make sure the Worcester train should arrive at 9:30. He says, no, but it will arrive at 10:07. I figure Hope must have messed up the time she told me, so then I continue to wait in the waiting room until about 10. I go outside and Hope doesn't come off the 10:07 train. mmmmmk. Well, there's supposedly another train at 11:07. I think "oh, I bet the 9:30 time she told me was the time she was supposed to LEAVE worcester". so I wait, and then at 11:07, no Hope. I'm freaking out at this point. The sweet train worker people let me use their phone, and I try to call the only place I know to call, Worcester University, thinking maybe they could try to call her room and see if she even left for the train. By the way, neither Hope nor I have phones yet, so we have no way to communicate. We obviously didn't think things through as well as we should have. It's a Saturday, so the University is closed, and no one answers on the phone. The train worker people tell me another train is due from worcester at 12, and maybe Hope missed a connecting train and will be arriving on this one. Ok, I say, feeling sort of scared. What if she didn't come? The train man directs me to an internet café that only charges 1 pound per 20 minutes. I pay, get on facebook, hoping Hope had left me a note or something about missing her train or not coming after all. nothing. So I leave a note on her wall, basically like "i don't know where you are, but be here please". Not helpful. I go to an old lady café nearby and watch all the old people drink their tea and eat their soup including an old lady with i'm supposing her grand daughter. I wanted to live in bath. Then I go back to the train station and, of course, hope doesn't arrive on the 12:00 train. I start to cry. I'm so woeful sometimes. I felt like a 3 year old who had slipped out of mommy's sight for two minutes and couldn't find her again for those miserable 2 minutes. I decide to go back to the internet café, pay for twenty more minutes, and leave another note on Hope's wall. I say "ok, i'm going to see the city. if you somehow get this message, let's meet at the Roman Baths at 3 pm. I hope you get this". So I go on a sad jaunt around the city. I only wanted my friend, and the beautiful sunny day would have been sunnier. Still, everything is gorgeous, and I take lots of pictures, eat lunch, and find a cute shirt that I don't buy, because i was too hesitant.

Finally, it's near 3:00, so I start to head to the Roman Baths, thinking there's no way she's going to be there. God wants to teach me something, I just knew it. He's not gonna let me find this girl. But maybe. So I go anyway, praying the whole way. As I'm walking there, I literally run into a girl walking, and she brushes me off, not looking at me, and says Oh, sorry. I look up and scream. It's Hope. Her mind doesn't register that it's me, so she just kinda stares. then she gets it and freaks outs and yells "holy crap!". We hugged and laughed, and everyone stared at us. Apparently, she had gotten in on her 9:30am train, but it came from Newport and not Worcester. and so I'd been waiting for the wrong train. We had simply missed each other. She'd EVEN been to the same internet café as me. We kept passing each other. Oh, how wonderful. She had actually never gotten my note to met at the Bath's at 3; she was just going to the Gap. We link arms, and saunter off, suddenly renewed, ready to see Bath and seriously craving chocolate. We shop and see the stunning streets and Jane Austen's old home, which is now a dentist's office, and the Circus (it's in my pictures on facebook) and the GORGEOUS Royal Crescent in front of the Royal Victoria Park at sunset. It's stunning. We find an old used bookstore and peruse the dusty smelling treasures there before going to a cute café to have a piece of chocolate and Guinness cake with a beer (for her), and some wine (for me).

(Bath Abbey)


(book store)



Afterward, we went to the Bath Abbey and see the beautiful church at night. It's even more handsome, because there aren't a million people milling about. We sit down in the middle of the courtyard and then lay down and look up at the Abbey and the stars. It's sensational. My heart soars. No other way to explain it. Then we sneak into a lovely park and roam around there before going back to the train station to catch our trains. With a hug and promise of more adventurous trips to come as well as a better planning method in the future, I get on my train and head back to Swansea.

(Me and Hope in front of Jane Austen's old home)


This is long enough that my story should really end here. So, if you're sick of reading, stop here. If not, I'll tell you about my trip back. Ugh. The train ride was insane. It wasn't heated, so by now I'm absolutely frozen, from a day of walking in freezing weather and then waiting outside for a train and then being on an unheated train. What's more, about 25 Swansea students are completely drunk and yelling at a constant loud pitch. I literally felt like I was at a UT game and we had scored a touchdown. Perpetually. A continuous touchdown. Upon arriving in Swansea, I'm exhausted from being awake since 5 am, freezing, annoyed even after my beautifully redemptive day, and hungry. I wait for the promised bus for 15 minutes before realizing it probably isn't coming. But, stubborn and completely unwilling to pay another 8 pounds for a taxi, I ask for help. I'm told by the train security guards to go to a bus stop about 6 blocks away. So I go on a 20 minute walk, find the bus that is to take me straight to the student village, and sit down with a sigh of relief. An old drunk man decides to talk to me. He asks me where I'm from, and I tell me, and he says "oh yes, chattanooga is in TN". and I say yes, and he says "and so is fairview isn't it?" And I say no i don't think so, and he says "oh no, that's from that Housewives show". And he says "what about the simpsons?" and I say "no, that's springfield in IL". "oh, yes, yes, yes...right." I had had enough of drunk people, but I decided to let this man be drunk and talk to him like a normal person. Putting on my determined mind cap is always helpful, and I felt better. Then he asks me what I'm doing the next day (sunday). And i say I'm going to church. And he laughs, "oh, God. That's what you're talking about. there really is no God, you know? You know who God is?" I look at him questioningly, and he answers by pointing to himself. "We're god." I smile and nod, "well. I don't know. If I was a god, maybe things would turn out in my favor more." He mumbles something, pats my hand, and says that this is his stop. And he gets off the bus. I decide as I'm riding home that it's really great when you realize you can't convert anyone. and everyone is entitled to their own. then you can be great friends. I like to talk about what I believe without having any sort of convincing tone in my voice....I got tired after that and stopped thinking about serious things.

a few snapshots

here are some pictures from my travels yesterday for those of you who don't have facebook










And here are a few of my room at school...

theres nothing like the gentle hum of a well-running human...

The past two days have jumpstarted my life into a routine, and so far it is running smoothly with very few stalls in my internal engine. After discovering the swansea bay and the most unique portions of the city, I realize how deeply fascinating looking history in the face is--over sitting through history classes. Speaking of history class, I had my first one yesterday. It is very much like classes in America. My teacher as of right now is intriguing to listen to, even though his content is not exactly inspiring. After class, I went to philosophy, but quickly realized how basic it is and how I have already had almost the same class but at UT. Also it is a level one class and will not be able to pass as the upper-level philosophy I still need to take at UT. So I decided to drop it and be down to 12 hours. That's all right, though--I will probably take a class or two at UT this summer when I get home if i can. It will mean I have more time to spend getting involved in clubs here (they have an ultimate frisbee club and a rock-climbing club-why oh why didn't I bring my shoes?..oh yes, no room) and sight seeing and getting to know people and working really hard at the classes in which I'm currently enrolled. Anyway, after that class, I went home, and Lindsey and I went on our city excursion as well as to the bay for sunset to take pictures. I almost cried when I arrived at the beach. It was the first time my heart warmed and I felt a little more at home.




I couldnt feel my nose or fingers the entire time we frolicked about in the wet sand (like the dogs in this picture)^ but, like a little kid who can't be pulled away from the first snow of the winter, despite red fingers and ears, I didn't have any desire to catch our bus and go home. I felt like I could breathe and like I had nothing to worry about while I was there. Lindsey and I did finally leave, after searching for sand for her missing lens cap to her camera, which she probably dropped in her frenzied excitement. We went home and made dinner together, and I went to bed, exhausted. Today I didn't wake up until 1:30-sleeping straight through-and raced to the class, which has become my favorite. it's a creative writing short story class, and my teacher is glorious. She knows what she's talking about, and she's more interested in discussion than lecturing. She appreciates everyone's responses and doesn't see any of them as right or wrong. The beauty of the short story is that it's often very subject to one's own interpretation. We get to write our own stories periodically throughout the term. I went home after class and sat next to a man pushing his baby in a stroller on the bus. The baby was wrapped in a tiny sleeping bag, and I thought how nice it would be to travel around Swansea snuggled in a sleeping bag in a stroller for a day. But only for a day.

and so it continues...

I am a lazy bum. I think this is true for all the american students right now, but I don't like to be so lazy. The night before last, I went to bed at 1 (a reasonable hour for someone like me) and slept till...3 pm. A full 14 hours. It was great and I felt very rested, so I thought. Lindsey and I went to town and looked around, which was great; I found my life saver store. The "99p store". everything is 1 pound or less. I got a mirror with a plastic green casing..we had no mirrors in our rooms...and a candle and a couple other random things that would have been very costly elsewhere. I left the store with a permanent smile on my face, content with my very basic purchases, and we went to Tesco next. This time around at tesco, I was in better spirits, and so things didn't seem quite as expensive as they had seemed two nights before when we were so exhausted and hungry. I only got some cheese and salad dressing (apparently, salad dressings are salad "creams over here) and we left again. Three different occasions, older individuals stopped us and asked us how to get to some location (of course, we had no idea what they were talking about, because...well, it's obvious). One lady was about 90 years old and probably 4'11'', but incredibly sweet, and I hated not being able to help her. Side note...what is it with little children and old people? Their foreign accents are undeniably precious. Anyway, we successfully managed to catch the bus back to university (here, they call it "uni") and then got the other bus back to the student village. Upon arriving, i went home and met my other room mate who had just returned from ireland. His name is Chris, and he is very kind. He reminds me of someone my friends at home would hang out with. So I made my dinner of a ham, welsh white cheddar cheese, avocado, honey and mustard dressing, and lettuce sandwich, talked with my room mates, chris and peter (he's polish...very sweet. but I always talk too fast for him), and then lindsey showed up with her funny room mate Evalds from Latvia. She said we were going to a party and I needed to get ready. I quickly changed and she handed me a cider (it's different than any american alcohol...it reminds me of very unclassy champagne), and we went to the party. We weren't there very long, but we met some really great people, notably annemarie and becky. Then that party started to die down, so we went to another party. It wasn't fun, so we went to our american friend, melanie's house. It was great. We talked for a couple hours about traveling and our plans and school. I went home after that and thought I'd be tired enough to go to sleep. Alas. one cannot sleep until 3 pm and expect an early bed time. This wasn't early though. It was 2 pm! So I watched one of my tv shows online that I've missed being away from home. Then i got caught up in skyping and finally managed to go to sleep at 5 am. Ugh. I slept until 11 this morning because I thought I was going to town with melanie and lindsey. Nope. They were still asleep, and they didn't want to go out today. So I went home, ate some breakfast, lounged around and...yes. fell asleep. until 5 pm today. This is why I'm lazy. I'm going to change, i really will.

in the beginning

Today was a bit more dramatic. well, actually starting last night. we went to tesco, basically a walmart, but a lot more expensive. i was looking at buying a pillow, but they were equivalent to 11 dollars in the U.S. gaaah. everything is so expensive here, and I'm not gonna lie. I'm so nervous about my money running out. How will I travel? Alas, I do not know yet. I won't be buying any pillows though :)
anyway, last night at tesco we spent about two hours buying 30 pounds worth of groceries and necessities. I so wish I could have fit from home into my bags. poop. afterwards, we were looking for the bus stop, but couldn't find it and had really heavy groceries, and hadn't eaten since lunch (it was about 9 pm at that point). It was pouring rain as we walked the streets of swansea, desperate for a ride. finally, we called a taxi and ended up paying about 24 bucks to get back to school, which was frustrating, because we have a bus pass and so it felt like we wasted that money. silly americans. I got home though and couldnt find my house and room keys and kind of panicked. It was late, and only I have a key to my room. it was raining and I didnt know anyone. And so I cried. but I knew it was mostly because I was exhausted and hadn't eaten in hours. So i went to my room and put my groceries away and showered and tried to plug in my straighter so I could look presentable the next day at orientation. my straightener blew immediately. that was the last straw, so I fell into bed and slept deeply. This morning, I woke up famished and thirsty (i hadn't had any water since noon the day before). after something to eat and a nalgene full of water, I felt so much better. Then I registered for classes, met some friendly welsh friends and the day turned out so so much better. i get made fun of for saying ya'll. it's great. this country makes me love the human race.

here we are.

Well. I think I’ve become a woman. Who ever said you have to have babies and get married before you’re a woman maybe doesn’t know the victory and triumph of successfully being independent. I’ve maneuvered my person and my scarce belongings across the ocean through train stations and airports with few mishaps—but close calls—to a new home. This is a fascinating endeavor, and everyone has been so nice. Things of note: every person who has helped me in different stores calls me “love” and “sweethaht”. This makes me feel so special, and I always flash this hopeless grin, because what perfect stranger in America would call me love? But I think they really do this with every girl, and so I shouldn’t get so excited. I’m in surreal, numb, exhausted, travel mode as I write this and I don’t think any of my experiences have fully soaked in yet. Lindsey and I arrived to London at 6:30 this morning, and we immediately hopped on the tube (subway) to Paddington Train Station in central-ish London to catch a train to Swansea. Right now I’m sitting in Paddington, surrounded by mounds of ridiculous luggage, while Lindsey has traipsed off to take a picture. A pigeon just landed on the floor next to me (this is an indoor station, mind you) and is searching for crumbs. To his dismay, I cannot figure out how to exchange my money at the moment and thus I have no crumbs to drop for him, much less for me. Other notable things: British people’s teeth are outrageously crooked…compared to American teeth, since every kid and their mother had braces at one time. At the same time, I think I have never seen more beautiful people. Europeans are not tan, rarely blond, and not really tiny/petite, which seems like the beauty standard in the US. Still, these people are so gorgeous. Perhaps it’s their style. It reminds me of how mary poppins might dress if she decided to ride her umbrella to the 21st century. I don’t know how to explain what I mean, but that’s what it seems like….
I think maybe only in Europe could I sit and listen to people all day long and feel no need to talk. They have such a beautiful, fluid vocabulary. And, bless my heart, it’s all I can do to NOT respond with my own fluttery, butchered imitation. A habit I seem to have taken to: staring. Awkward, long stares at people. Staring to the point where they look at me with that “yeeeees?” expression. I probably do it because everyone is so pretty. I don’t really know what the deal is, but I should probably stop. Well, I just figured out how to exchange money, and I had maybe the best salad I’ve ever had. Spinach, fresh mozzarella, avocado, cherry tomatoes, and pesto. It was incredible. At a train station. We are leaving for Swansea soon so I will add to this later. Farewell for now.

i have to do something while I wait...

I would just love a good hat. Also I want to stop thinking about me all the time. Its always there: am I one of those annoying people? Do I walk funny? Am I too blunt and do I make stupid jokes? As I write all of this down, I am actually furthering this problem and making my self-absorption look all the more pathetic. How come i blog in my brain and fill journal pages in my imagination all day long but then when i sit down, I can't write. it's like suddenly all my thoughts and inward blogs collide and then I'm not even really sure why I was going to write in the first place. Maybe I just want someone in the void out there to know that I think about things. I never thought I would have a blog, but now I do and it's sort of weird knowing just how many people will be seeing my thoughts. I don't think they're terribly personal, but personal enough that I'm a tad concerned about responses.

Do you ever think about how the cold is so romantic? Something about the rosy cheeks and watery eyes and the way your breath hangs in the air for longer than normal. Do you think the breath stays in the air because it has water droplets, and the water droplets freak out because it's cold and don't know where to go so they just hang there? Also everything is brighter when it snows. Which makes up for the really dark days accompanying snow days, but also sucks when it is sunny, because then you can't really see without sunglasses.

There are weird things I worry about. I worry about bad breath. But I hate brushing my teeth. And sometimes I feel like I need to look perfect because someone might take a picture. I worry about social awkwardness. I think I'm more susceptible to it because i was home schooled. I don't think i'd be a very good writer because I do this stream of consciousness type of writing instead of having complete thoughts, because otherwise, all my important thoughts wouldn't come out because I would forget them. So sometimes if I just talk, I get to say everything I want to say. Unfortunately, that's usually less than eloquent and so then I wonder if I could figure out a way to line up my thoughts appropriately, perhaps they would come out wonderfully and even make some sense. I've realized recently that I've become more and more insincere. I listen half-heartedly to people but expect those people to listen to what I have to say. I get annoyed, I don't have patience. I know everyone struggles, but i don't like it. I don't like insincerity. I want to like people a lot. Even love them. And listen to them.

I don't think all my posts will be like this. But I can't sleep, and I haven't been able to leave my house all day because of icy roads. I get cabin fever really easily. That's another thing. I think i'm pretty introverted, to the point where I don't like to be with a lot of people all the time--but I like to know people are around. that my room mate is in the next room.

You know one of my favorite things to realize about a person. That they have the capability to sleep as much as or more than i do.

soon and very soon

In the next few weeks, I will be taking a lovely flight across the deep blue to my new home for 6 months in Swansea, Wales. I'm very excited and very nervous but I think that this page will connect you to me, and I can tell you all about my adventures. The most exciting event in my life right now is the purchase of my camera, which I will be traveling with to Europa.


Isn't she lovely? It is a Canon Rebel XT slr. I think I might enjoy it immensely. I have nothing to talk about right now because nothing is happening until January 20th. When I leave. Goodbye for now.