Mission impossible

Even though the mission-- to go to London and have a massive night of dancing-- doesn't seem so difficult at the start, beware because this proves to be a mission impossible if I've ever seen one. You could say it was our own fault. We didn't have advance tickets, we arrived at midnight when the queue was literally wrapped around a corner and another street, and we were a group of 4 guys and one girl. But my god! You would think that Oprah was inside giving away free Mercedes Benz-- except only to females! We tried begging, bribing, buying bottles of anything for the bouncers, but unless my 4 friends were going to have immediate sex change operations, we didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting into that club.

Disappointed isn't even an accurate description of this night. FREEZING is a bit closer. By the time we reached the front of the line, only to be turned away, we had been waiting for a good hour as our fingers were gradually hardening into icicles.

Better yet, we could have finished the night somewhere else, in a less posh and more sausage friendly club, but Frenchy (the original-- oh yes, he made a brief comeback as an extra in this episode) insisted that he was tired of the bullshit and wanted to go back home. We didn't really have much choice but to follow him. He did in fact have an absolutely lovely 2-level flat overlooking the Thames, but then again he was never one to live in cramped quarters. I was only TOO happy that I do NOT share those lovely quarters with him! It seems as though the year-plus gaps between our meetings always seem to allow sufficient time for me to erase all of the self-serving, rude and pretentious qualities I see in him. Apparently, my mind has an erasable function but reality does not. He never changes, and it only takes one meeting to realize that love really is blinding. If I needed any reminder of what I am NOT looking for in a partner, I need look no further. At least the "friend" category allows for some breathing room.

The mission wasn't altogether regrettable, however. A closer look at the impossible can sometimes be a good thing.

Burns night

The place: King's College
The menu: HAGGIS and whiskey!
The occasion: Burns night in honor of Scottish poet Robert Burns
The highlight: Men in kilts
Accompanied by: fellow classmates C.W. DeWitt (Harvard) and O-Masa-sama (Gaimusho); not too shabby!


The Selkirk Grace:

Some hae meat and cannot eat.
And some would eat that want it:
But we hae meat and we can eat,
Sae let the Lord be thankit.

Sleepless in Cambridge

Tomorrow will be two weeks since the first night back in my definitely-not-a-double-but-bigger-than-a-single bed in Cambridge. Last night was about the fifth consecutive night I have not been able to sleep a full night in said bed. It seems a bit past the jet lag stage, but I'm not sure what else could have brought on this state of insomnia. Nerves, perhaps, but at this point I'm too tired to really feel anything at all! I've been exercising like crazy to try to make myself tired, so at least my waistline is loving this experience. I've tried counting sheep, drinking warm milk, and staring endlessly at my alarm clock. If anyone has other tips, please help out a sleepless EngRish GiRL.

Life has otherwise been quite normal. I resumed classes on Thursday, and it appears that my schedule this term will be much busier than the last. I have essays to write, presentations to present, and more reading than I'll ever be able to finish. It still doesn't help to fill the empty hours after my brain is completely fried and my eyes can't take another look at the computer screen, but it does make the days go faster. I've spent a lot of this week catching up with friends after the long break, and it seems that everyone is pretty keen to have an active social calendar as well. I am going to two formal hall dinners this week, and then waiting anxiously for the weekend, which I'll spend in London with the likes of Satoshi Tomiie and Jimmy Van M for Renaissance night. It's been too long since a really good night of deep house :-)

So, at least the sleepless nights have not been breeding boring days. I'm pretty sure that would be much worse!

Best friends, best times

A tribute page to my long-time girls...

Over the past winter break, FINALLY, after way too much time in many cases, I was able to meet up with my best girl friends from high school and uni. I was reminded, as always, that there is nothing like being with your best friends, and it was the one thing I have been missing so much! We did our share of reminiscing about the old days, but also made some new memories, as well as planned for the coming days of weddings, more reunions, and London visits.

And not only that, but we can sure still get around!

K's engagement/Christmas party was a trip back to the redneck times with some good ol' guitar playin', drinkin' and singin', and this time even with our parents in attendance!

Snowboarding with McK ended in a day of slushy snow and a well-placed bruise the size of a small planet on my right butt cheek.

New Years Eve in NYC with Linds and Linda was a night of drama in the worst way, perhaps, but ended up in lots of laughs because of it. But December 30th was just as much a night to remember in New York's trendy Marquee: "It’s been called the best club in the known universe; whether you feel the same way pretty much depends on whether you can get through the door. If you’re not a celebrity, a model or a millionaire it’s about as easy as getting a green card." Thanks to Arnaud, we became instant celebrities, models and millionaires and pranced are way straight in. See pics!

Amandallo and I in Atlantic City together sounds like trouble in itself, but add my mother and two pups that we smuggled into the Showboat, and there you have a catastophe waiting to happen. Luckily we kept Laverne & Shirley quiet as we wheeled them through the casino in our luggage.

And last but not least, our little 5-some (minus K-Fo) reunion in Nazareth (Nazo), PA. Somehow, I think over the course of 3 days I went up a pants size. Who ever thought that a diet of purely cheesesteaks and pizza could make your gut feel so huge? Add a few dozen $1.20 beers and $2.00 mixed drinks to that equation, and my liver and intestines are very happy I've moved from home. We even (gasp!) WALKED to the bar from my house, which is unheard of in my little town. Anyway, being together for 3 days makes me yearn for the Dakota days... though maybe at least we can get half our room together soon in a NY flat? To be continued...

Day tripping

There is no other word to describe Cambridge this past week except DEAD. Few by few we trudge back to campus begrudgingly from our winter break getaways, only to find that it is even colder, grayer, and emptier than the Wolfson we left.

Clearly, the only solution to this dilemma is... another getaway!

Thus Frenchy B and I took off to London for the day. Though London is a mere one hour train ride from here, trips were a rare commodity in my mind, with even an invented quota of sorts I had set for myself since the train ride is fairly costly for just an in-and-out trip. B and I, however, are true rebels, and I managed to devise a way to get us a very nice discount on this and future trips into the city. Unfortunately it is a well-guarded secret which I can only divulge if you come to London with me. So until then, tough luck.

The day's plan was to see the exhibit on Henri Rousseau at the Tate Modern and to help B lose his musical virginity, both completed with extreme success! If you can get to the Tate Modern before February 5, I highly recommend the Rousseau exhibit. I've always been a fan of Rousseau but always had misconceptions about his work. First, he doesn't only paint jungles. Second, he never traveled all over the world through jungle after jungle for inspiration for all of his landscapes. He actually painted them based on the greenhouse in Paris' Jardin des Plantes and never even left France. Anyway, I have decided to spend my future fortune on originals of Carnival Evening and The Snake Charmer for my future home kitchen-slash-art gallery. I am convinced they would make lovely complements to the Mona Lisa on my refrigerator.

The rest of the museum did a good job of stretching by all lengths of the imagination what I would consider art. I have nothing against modern art ala Rousseau or Andy Warhol, but as B put it, "I don't want to have to think about why it's art." After all, when more people are looking at the fabulous cityscape view than the art, there is something wrong, no?

The trip continued, as mentioned, with one musical virgin and one musical nympho. The show of the day was Blood Brothers, one of the longest running musicals in London. Perhaps it's lost its polish? I had read mixed, but mostly good reviews on it, but a part of me just couldn't really get into it. My conclusion is that instead of the tragic ending, the narrator should have been shot well before the first scene, and Eddie should have married Marilyn Monroe. Being the musical junkie I am, I can't say I didn't enjoy it, especially because it's always fun to help someone lose any kind of virginity, but perhaps a 3rd run at Les Mis would have been a better choice?

I suppose any good trip just like any good fantasy must come to an end, and so it did. Back in my room at Cambridge, I'm at least content to know that a quick escape is only a cheap one-hour trip away.

Back to the grind...

I know, another 2 very interesting weeks pass, and still no blogging. Well, this time I do have a decent excuse, because I actually had the time to blog. To put it simly, using my mother's dial-up internet is like waiting for a dinosaur to have a baby. I just couldn't take it anymore. And uploading pictures? Just forget about that. Someone please tell Mom that highspeed internet is a very appropriate investment in this day and age!

Now, after a highspeed six weeks of break, I've brought the gears back to Cambridge speed, which is slow oh so slow! Maybe not for long, though-- after all, I do have a thesis to write and lists of books to read. I just haven't started yet. I just got back yesterday, so sleeping until 12:30 today seemed excusable, given the jet lag and amount of traveling I did over the past six weeks. I can't say I am ready to go globetrotting again for the time being (at least another month until I go back to Tokyo to visit S).

The highlights of home mostly revolved around eating, making the amount of time revolving around exercising here a must. Apparently I came home looking like a "victim of Eichmann" according to my not-so-politically-correct mother, so she made sure to fill me up with lots of goodies. I spent the rest of my time catching up with my high school and uni friends, some who I hadn't seen in almost two years. But I was pleasantly reminded that you can go for ages without seeing your very best friends, and still, after all that time, nothing has really changed. More to tell re: two best friends from high school engaged, one very drunk New Years Eve in New York City, $30 won at Texas Hold 'Em in Atlantic City, tons of puppy love, and a whole weekend of the "local flava"-- aka the bars in my town.

I have tons of pictures and tons of stories, so as I'm sure I won't have much to tell from Cambridge, I'll start going through the details next entry!

Happy New Year, everyone!