Don't Piss-Off The Priest

The first time I ever saw a nun, I think I was eight.  She was riding a bike in her habit and this to me was hilarious.  I honestly didn't realize that they actually wore habits or that they were allowed to ride bikes in them.  Again, I was eight.  Around this same age I had worked it out in my head that a little elf lived under the middle of each intersection and had a kind of parascope which enabled him to see when the cars came, so that he could change the lights.  Lets just say, giggling at nuns was amateur stuff in comparison.  So, there I was riding in the little pick-up with Grandma Heckathorn giggling...well, like an eight year old seeing a bike-riding nun for the first time.  Little did I know, this would not be my last encounter with one of God's humble servants.

My friend Sam invited me to go to Cambridge this weekend.  Being that I'd never been before, I took him up on the invitation.  I had looked up a few things which seemed interesting that we might be able to do, but didn't have anything specific in mind.  I like to have ideas but I'm not a fan of ridged itineraries.  We planned to meet at King's Cross Station (THE King's Cross Station from Harry Potter...nerd alert!) and would take a train from there.  After purchasing our tickets we were off.  I am a huge fan of travel by train, now that I've done it a few times.  As gorgeous country side passed,  Sam and I had a lovely chat about where his research was leading him and how school is shaping up for me.  

At Cambridge station we disembarked from the train and immediately found a map to orient ourselves and find some of the significant landmark-ish areas of the city.  We decided to head to the university campus and see what we found along the way.  As we were walking we came upon a gorgeous old church. It was called something like Her Lady of Awesomeness Catholic Church (that's a rough translation).  It had beautiful stained-glass windows, amazing gargoyles and I'm pretty sure Shakespeare's head mounted beside a buttress.  Oh goodie, old stuff!  So I asked Sam if he wanted to go in and he was down.  

To all my Catholic friends, no disrespect.  I love going to Mass and find it beautiful.  I love the tradition of Mass and the fact that the biggest change in it's delivery in the passed three-hundred years has been that it's no longer given in Latin.  I like that there is something inherently healing about holding hands with a stranger as you pray.  I like knowing I'm standing in a hallowed place while I offer and receive peace and good tidings from those around me.  But most of all, I love the fact that even though I'm not Catholic and cannot receive communion, I can still go up with everyone else and receive a blessing.  But lets just be real, priests and nuns scare the hell out of me.  And rightly so I suppose, it's their job, isn't it?

As we walked in we realized communion was being given, so we tried to be as quiet as possible.  We looked around at some of the beautiful paintings in the back of the church and admired the truly amazing architecture surrounding us.  We watched for a minute as people stood in a small line down the center isle to receive communion.  I asked Sam if he had ever received a blessing before. He said he hadn't.  So I asked him if he wanted to.  He said sure, so I explained what to do.  "Rather than put your hands out for a communion wafer, you put them to your chest and ask for a blessing.  The priest will give you a blessing and then you're good to go."  I told him I'd go first so he could see what to do.  

Apparently I didn't explain myself well enough or Sam misunderstood or both.  As I turned around to wait for Sam to receive his blessing, I watched as he took a wafer and popped it into his mouth.  I was horrified.  Not only that, but he walked directly passed the woman holding the communion wine.  It now makes complete sense why she downed the rest of the cup when it was over.  So we are standing in the side isle and I'm quietly explaining what the stations of the cross are, as we walk passed the carvings on the wall.   And then it happened.  Out of nowhere, the priest, a tiny man (all of five feet) in a huge white hat, which actually completed his stature of five feet, practically ran up to us and started grilling us very loudly, in his british accent, bad teeth getting in the way and all.  He asked if we were fit to take communion.  Of course I immediately panicked and started to speak, but he dismissed me and said, "oh, yes, you only received a blessing." Let's just be honest here, if he hadn't cut me off, I was totally going to throw Sam to the snuggle toothed wolves.  I'm pretty sure I had pee'd myself a little.  It was like this little man was staring into my soul.  And then he turned his beady eyes on Sam.  

Again to my Catholic friends, I'm sure you have experienced the terror we were facing and because of this experience,  I now fully understand the expression "nervous as a whore in church."  He then asked Sam, "Are you fit to take communion?"  Let me just say that although Sam speaks five different languages, out of them all, he speaks English the poorest.  He looked at the priest and said, "Yes." I was sure a thunderbolt from the heavens was going to come crashing through the roof.  He lied to a priest!!!  Then the priest, practically shouting, his little hat trembling at eye level, sprayed out the words, "It's too quick, sit down and say your prayers, it too quick.  You can't just take communion like that, sit and be thankful."  So Sam, with head bowed after his public scolding turned into a row and sat.  I followed.  After a second or two, after I could no longer hear the adrenaline and my heart pumping in my ears,  I looked up to make sure the priest was gone and then I looked at Sam; probably just to see if he was still alive.  "We should go." I said.  "On three." Said Sam.  "One, two, three."  I would have run, but I was sure the priest would have hurdled the pews and cut us off at the pass, so a very brisk walk it was to the door and away.  

Outside the church I gave Sam crap about lying to the priest.  He admitted that he couldn't understand what the priest was saying, so he just shook his head and said "Yes." I told him that skipping the wine was a dead give away.  His response was, "Who drinks before noon?"  For the rest of the day as we passed random churches I would ask Sam if he wanted a do-over, or I would tell him that the Presbyterians, Baptists, Pentecostals, insert denomination here __________________, would not yell at him, or that it was just a warm up and now he was really ready. Best start to a trip EVER!!  

The rest of the day was great as well, we went to an art gallery, saw dinosaur bones and fossils at a museum, ate some pretty delicious hamburgers, went to a science/discovery center (on Jesus Street oddly enough), hit up an old fashioned candy store, a book store, and most appropriately, ended the day at a pub.  On the train ride back we agreed to completely ignored each other and read the books that we had bought earlier in the day.  A fun day all around!

This was a gigantic prehistoric elk/deer, about the size of a moose!

Can't remember the kind of Dinosaur, but cool!

T-Rex scull

Candy!!

More candy, you can buy it by the piece, ounce or pound!

Snuffleupagus

If you are reading this post expecting it to be about Sesame Street, you should probably stop reading now.  This post is about men who masturbate in public.

If you just read the last sentence and your eyes started bleeding, you should probably stop reading.

If you are my parents, for God-sake, STOP READING!!

Let's be honest, I know they're going to read on, I know them too well.

In Norway Julia and I were having drinks and we were swapping all kinds of funny stories, when she told me about her experience with the New York City subway system, and the various instances in which she had encountered men, well, flogging their molly, having a wank or whatever you want to call it.  I was in disbelief that people could be so disgusting.  And there were multiple stories, multiple! including: a homeless man "sleeping" on a train packed with women, just holding his business with both hands, like it was a cup of hot coffee...in this story, the book Julia was holding immediately doubled as a shield just.in.case;  an empty train and a twenty-something business man (in a three piece suit) at the opposite end swinging his junk around like the blades of a helicopter; and finally, two-pump Johnny sitting two people down and across from her on a train...no one thought it was silly sting dude, NO ONE!!! I'm so in shock that Julia has experienced these things. I will admit that I often prompt her to tell the stories to new groups of people we hang out with, because the way she tells the stories are so funny, inevitably, I end up in tears because I'm laughing so hard!  You can't make this crap up!

Then it made me kind of paranoid, because what if I saw someone...what would I do?! On our train ride to the airport when flying to Venice, Julia and I sat across from a man watching his iPad.  Okay, lets just say this guy had "masturbates on trains" written all over him, right down to the thick gold chain tangled in his creepy, ginger chest hair, proudly displayed for the world to see.  I started watching his hands and then began to regret not taking out my contacts in favor of my glasses for the ride.  I like my eyes, I want to keep them, BOTH! I have a friend whose roommate almost lost an eye in a tequila shooting accident, I can't imagine what...silly string would do!?! The panic subsided as I saw him doze off, another quick hand check and....we're good!  Whew!  As we waited for the plane Julia told me that she was watching him too!

That was weeks ago and since then I'd really forgotten to be on the look out or paranoid in any sense of the word.  And wouldn't you know it, the minute I stop being wary, that's when it happens.  When I walk to the tube from my house, I walk down a small connecting street to avoid the busy corner.  Ahead of me were two green garage doors and in front of them stood a man with his back to me.  I just kept walking because I thought he was peeing or possibly tagging the garage, because he kept looking over his shoulder.  I saw that he had no teeth because suddenly, he was smiling.  I was half way down the road when I realized what he was doing.  That wasn't a spray paint can he was shaking, but that garage door was never going to be the same....SWEET JESUS!!  Internally, I panicked and thought about turning around and running, but he had seen me...EFFFF!  And let's be honest, I was worried that my running away would alarm him, which might cause him to think: "Why is that woman running away? What's happening? DANGER! I better run too? I'm in danger, no time to put this thing away!!" which would inevitably lead to my being chased down the street by a man with his Snuffleupagus hanging out. OKAY, Plan B: just look at the ground and walk. PLAY. IT. COOL.  I hate plan B.  There was a street's width between us, which wasn't and will never be enough space.  How did the few other people and cars on the street not see this!?!  Well, because apparently London is like Sesame Street and people are use to seeing Snuffleupagus ALL THE TIME!!!

To Norway And Back Again

London is an incredibly diverse place filled with all kinds of incredible art, music, history, and culture.  I often find myself thinking that I don't need to rush to see this or that because I have time, in an effort to avoid adopting the mindset that I have to squeeze everything in all at once.  The down-side of this attitude is that I often forget to take in my surroundings.  On a daily basis, I walk passed any number of parks, statues, houses, museums, libraries, auditoriums which are centuries old.  So I've made it a point in the last few weeks to be present and conscious of what is around me, to take in all I can.  I've also been given wonderful advice from several people, namely Suzie, to "Take every opportunity and make the most of my time away."  This has been the most useful advice I've been given, well, besides Merilyn's, which was mainly about not talking to strange men! :)  So with that I share with you one of two incredible adventures I have been fortunate enough to take, thus far,  while living abroad. 

Norway

Julia and I flew in to Stavanger, Norway on Wednesday night.  I was so excited, namely because it was the first time I'd ventured out of London and also because I was officially "traveling" Europe, something I'd always wanted to do.  So, you can imagine my excitement when I actually got a stamp in my passport!!!  I had been told by numerous people that they don't stamp passports anymore, THEY TOTALLY DO! Yes, the trip started off on a high note, and considering a stamp in my passport as a high note, things could only get better.  Julia has traveled the world, so mostly she just shook her head and smiled at my ridiculous grin and giddy elation over some paper and ink.  We were only in Norway for two nights, so we had to make things count.  The next day we wandered around the city taking in the street art, which was beautiful and EVERYWHERE!  We eventually found the Nuart show and several fun shops, in which we bought gifts for friends and a few things for ourselves.  We also found an incredible restaurant where I had THE BEST HAMBURGER I've ever eaten in my life, no joke, and a seriously large cheese selection that could constipate a mouse.  I'm seriously considering going back to Norway just for the burger and cheeses.  We also took a ferry ride to several of the small islands off the coast of Stavanger, which were unassuming and quietly beautiful; covered in pine trees with freshly painted homes in bright shades of reds, yellows and greens which peaked through the trees in striking contrast.  It reminded me of McCall and I felt very at home.  

Julia and I 

THE MOTHER OF ALL HAMBURGERS
...it changed my life!

Nuart

Street art is often not considered art because of it's subversive, anti-establishment nature and because it is accessible to anyone and tends to be the voice of a marginalized minority.  Poignant in it's content, it is often a blatant commentary on social and political issues of the day.  The street art exhibition we saw was housed in an old brewery near the water.  It had been converted into artists' studios and work spaces which are then rented by artist for reasonable prices.  The show itself was sponsored by the Arts Council and brought in well known street artists from all over the world.  Each artist was given a separate space to display their work and as we walked around the city, the artists works would also pop up in large scale all over. The best part is that the city welcomes them and their art wherever they would like to create it!

Below are pictures of my favorite artists' and their work as displayed at the Nuart exhibition:

The Nuart studio

The movement of these is incredible.
Took up an entire wall. By Dal East of China.

One of my favorite artist, 
Martin Whatson of Norway.
I love his use of color.

This was the entire back wall of the room by artist Hush from the UK another of my favs!

Martin Whatson

Hush

Artist Toyz as you can see.

One of Julia's favorite artists Ernest Zacharevic of Lithuania.
Incorporates objects, like the tire, into his work.

Incorporating half of a car into his work here.  If you look closely, you can see the kids inside the car too!

Little girl pushing on the trunk of the car.

Loved his use of light and shadow, very interesting.
By artist Strok of Norway.

Same artist outside.

I believe this is artist c215 of France.

Again c215

c215

c215

Artist dot dot dot of Norway.  His work was very large scale and was kind of menacing, but still beautifully done.

This was a building on our way back from the show.
I've never seen this technique used before; the plaster has been removed
to reveal the brick, which creates the portrait. This is so beautiful and by far my favorite artist of the entire show.  His work is incredibly sophisticated and creative in its execution.
This is done by artist Vhils of Portugal.

There are more pictures to come.  Look up these artists and the work they are doing, it's pretty incredible!  :)  Enjoy!

My Humble Abode

Settling In

It has been a busy last few weeks and I never anticipated settling into my flat would take so long.  However, I am so incredibly thankful to have a place I can call home.  The longer I'm here, the better it feels.  I am living in a place called Maida Vale, which is also referred to as Little Venice because of the canal that runs through the city. It is nestled amongst other places such as Notting Hill and Paddington in the City of Westminster.  For the most part, it's a quiet area and it's quite picturesque, as in, when you think about where people live in London, that's what it looks like.  I live on the top floor of an Edwardian/Victorian style building, which has no lift.  But, I'm over it, as it is great exercise and...okay, I can't think of another reason, but I just keep telling myself it's a good thing, while simultaneously cussing myself as I climb the stairs.  And the higher you climb, the steeper they get....so, the Thigh Master can suck it!!! 

I'm also adjusting to the fact that it takes me more time than it use to, to get anywhere.  I have to leave my place an hour in advance in order to get to school on time.  This isn't due to the fact that I live incredibly far away, I'm relatively close to the school, but due to the fact that the tube system isn't the most reliable.  If a train is there, that doesn't mean that it will leave anywhere in the near future.  Mainly it means that the driver has to pee or switch ends of the train, or the two members of the cleaning crew will, at the mind blowing speed of a snail , go through every car and pick up discarded news papers that are handed out for free at the entrance of every tube station.  Apparently they cannot do this while the train is moving, so we wait.  Because of this, I've decided to start reading on the tube.  No, not the newspaper, okay, sometimes I pick one up, but I'm going to start taking a book with me on the Tube.  I'm pretty sure I could get through the unabridged version of War and Peace in a month, easily.  Thank you London Public Transit for bringing leisurely reading back into my life!!! 

Flat Hunting

To say that I hunted for a flat may be an overstatement, it sounds much to civilized.  What I did was more like, pounce on it, wrestled it to the ground, and beat it to death with a rock.  If you have an image of Gollum in your head, you're about there.  It was a Monday and I was finishing up notes for a class and decided to get online and look for a flat.  I found a few and had sent some emails when I came across, the PERFECT flat!!!  I called the number immediately and a man named Dan answered.  I told him I was interested in the flat and asked if I could see it.  He told me he was surprised because he had only just posted the ad 30 minutes ago.  He told me I could see the place that evening or the next day.  I told him I'd be there at 8:30 that night.  I had no idea where it was, but the idea of actually visiting a place made me hopeful.  My good friend Julia was down to come with me, and I'm glad she did because without her I would not have been able to find the place.   

An aside about Julia:  I often refer to her as New York, mainly when we're walking and I can't seem to locate her except for the trail of dust she has left behind her.  It's like a game of Marko Polo when I yell into the crowd, "New York, wait up!"  She's from New York as you might have guessed and is a FAST walker.  She literally has to make a conscious effort to walk at my pace, think sloth running team and your about there.  I tell her that she walks with a purpose.  I often joke that I'm only walking slowly for safety reasons, because my thighs would rub together and spontaneously combust if I walked as fast as she does.  As I've said before, she has an uncanny sense of direction and navigates the city and the tube lines with ease.  Thank you Julia.

She found the place and we rang the buzzer (okay a few buzzers, oops) and Dan let us in the front door.  We climbed the stairs and came into the apartment. There were two other people in the space and I got a little nervous.  Mainly because I looked like I was being paid to do trials for clinical strength anti-perspirant because of a glandular disorder.  Maybe I should start carrying an inhaler, not because I need it, but because I think it would make people feel more at ease when I come wheezing in all pink-faced and sweaty.  (Love to my asthmatics!) 

I digress.  When we got there, there was another person looking at the flat...play.it.cool.  Don't start just start shouting out numbers, cause let's be honest, I'm living on a budget and it can only stretch so far.  Seeing as how I've never played anything cool in my life, I decided to look around and asked some questions, rather than have a panic attack on the stairs.  When I walked into my house for the first time I had this overwhelming sense that it was my home, and I had the same feeling when I walked/crawled into this place too.  It may have been desperation or wishful thinking, but I just knew.  

I had brought the deposit just in case I needed to put it down that night.  POUNCE!  I also threw in the fact that I was willing to pay five months up front.  WRESTLE! While talking with Dan (and his fiancé Lizzy) I mentioned that I was currently living in a hostel as my accommodations had fallen through last minute.  ROCK!!!  It turns out that Lizzy works for the Save the Children organization and she couldn't bear the thought of my living in a hostel while starting school.  Needless to say I payed the deposit that night and moved in two days later.  The apartment is fully furnished and between Dan and Lizzy there are doubles of several items, so they left almost everything I need in the apartment including pots, pans, a 40" flat screen, dishes, utensils, washer/dryer, vacuum, kettle etc.  I have been provided for ABUNDANTLY!!  Not only that, but it also provides a place for me to house guests in a way that gives them privacy or at least their own space!  I didn't realize how much I enjoyed having people over for dinner or coffee until I wasn't able to do it anymore.  So, this is a standing invitation, you are welcome in my home anytime! 

The entry, complete with IKEA shoe storage! YES!

Stairs to the flat leading down to the entry.

The left side of the kitchen, complete with dishwasher (middle cupboard), again, thank you IKEA!

Right side of the kitchen, oven, fridge, freezer (a whole one too, not just a little guy!).

Living/Dining room, it's very sparse, but I'm sure I'll find something to put on the walls!

Bathroom, it goes farther in to the left and in the cupboard is where the washer/dryer combo sits.

Bedroom, closet on the left and the rest of the dresser.

One of my favorite things about the space, this giant skylight spans almost the entire length of the room!

Celebrating the move-in and Andy's Birthday!  (L to R) Marco, Nils (white shirt), Andy and Me!

Toasting Andy on his Birthday! (L to R) Sam, Avi, Andy, Emily, Julia and Marco.

Progress

Well, it's been a while and there has been much positive progress.  I honestly believe the Lord's timing is perfect and has a beautiful, immaculately timed rhythm. I can see these divine orchestrations as they come in healing waves just when things seem impossible, overwhelming, bleak.

I had to rebook my room at the hostel once again. When this happens, I have little control over where it is that I may be staying.  Up to this point, I'd been fortunate to be able to stay in the same room for 10 consecutive days.  The room held 12 people, but for the most part all of them were relatively normal.  For the most part...
I ended up having to move rooms, not once but twice, due to the hostel being booked solid.  So the plan was to get up, pack my suitcases, check out of room one and check into room two, stay the night, repack, and move rooms again.  Please remember that there are NO elevators in this God forsaken hostel and I should also mention that there are two separate staircases that go to two different sides of the hostel and do not connect whatsoever, so if I was moved into the other side of the hostel, I may have died.  Needless to say I became best friends with the front desk staff as soon as I found this out; they think I'm funny or maybe they're humoring me because they think I'm crazy.  This might have something to do with the fact that I tried to check out a day early, I honestly didn't know what day it was.  I drug my carcass up to the desk looking like I had just gone through a car wash (furious early morning packing will do this to...well..me) only to find out that my check out wasn't until the next day. Yeah, oops!

I was dreading hauling my suitcases down one flight of stairs and up another and then down again the next day and back up.  I'm seriously sweating just thinking about the trip.  I should also mention the fact that I have looked like a homeless person for the last month, because no matter how many times I blow-dry, straighten, straighten, blow-dry my hair, by the time I get down the blessed stairs, my hair has staged a coup with the help of any moisture present and I look like I've run through a sprinkler.
Moving on.
Needless to say the Lord provided and I was able to keep from having to move twice and only up another flight of stairs on the same side of the building.  Cue chorus (movin' on up, to the top, to a delux apartment in the sky-hi-hi).
I moved into a eight bed room penthouse, okay, not really, but it is on the top floor.  I will say that it seems the higher up in the hostel I am, the further from the crazies I get, I think it's cause the air is thinner? Mouth breathers prefer the thick, dank air of the basement? I'm still trying to work this out, maybe it's because the further from the basement and into society they get the harder it is to function?  Your thoughts are welcome.
When I got into the room, it was much more open in terms of space and the people were amazing.  The first person I met was Avi. He's a doctor born in England, transplanted to India, and back to England, who happens to be looking for a flat as well.  Avi is the kindest, most generous and helpful person I've ever met.  He is selfless in the truest sense and is the one in the room that looks out for everyone.  I tease him and tell him that he's the team mom and ask if we'll have orange slices and juice boxes at half time.  He has in his own search for apartments found several places for me as well and often reminds me of things I need to do. An example of this is when I was getting things together this morning and I was thinking about what I'd forgotten to do, he said "Steph, you need to brush your teeth."  Yep, my brain seriously couldn't pull that one out.  No joke. I'm so grateful for Avi as are all the people I encountered that day were, because he reminded me to brush my teeth. :)

Then there is Samuel.  Sam is Swiss and is working at Imperial College researching polymers in an attempt to find a way to create electronics without the use of metals.  So cool! Sam is also looking for a flat. Sam is funny, kind, honest and incredibly interesting.  He has done so many things in his life and I am amazed at his desire to know more and experience new things.  He also cares for people in a similar way to Avi and I've been so grateful for theses guys!
Next there is Andy.  Andy is from Australia and is just ending his travels in London.  Andy is a construction manager in Melbourne and has some of the coolest tattoos I've ever seen.  He is incredibly well traveled and has an easy way about him.  He is also very well read, loves music and movies and is incredibly funny.  Andy is 22 and has seen so much of the world because any time he gets a break from work, he's traveling.  We celebrated Andy's birthday on the 25th and the entire night he kept saying, thank you and telling us how nice we were.  You are too Andy, that's why we're celebrating.

Finally, there is Marco.  Marco is Italian and Brazilian.  He speaks at least four languages (French, Portuguese, Italian and English) and has come to London to improve his English because he got a coupon in the mail for a week long course in London. I like your style Marco. Marco has an incredible grasp of humor and is an eager student.  He finds my English easier to understand than the British, so he is always asking questions.  One of the funniest moments with Marco has been trying to explain what tighty whities are.  Avi was pantomiming and looking up pictures, I was desperately trying to think of words like "Speedo" or "Banana Hammock" (yeah, cause that translates?), Andy was in stitches on the floor.  Needless to say it is never boring around here.

I also have to mention Nils.  Nils is German and was in my pervious room.  He is working at Fashion Week in London and wants to become a model as well as an actor.  Nils has an old soul and at the ripe old age of 21 has an incredible drive, a solid knowledge of who he is, as well as foresight and determination to create the life for himself that he desires.  He is also looking for a flat and has just enrolled in acting classes in London.

Each of these people have brought something different into my life and I can honestly say that my time in the hostel has been filled with purpose as these people have enriched my life and taught me things I never would have learned otherwise.  I was talking with my friend Julia and she pointed out that because I live in the hostel, I am able to meet people and create friendships outside of school.  And that's really the point isn't it?  In leaving one community the Lord has provided another one in which we all connected by our shared experiences.  We are able to embrace each other because there is a spoken and unspoken understanding of transition and displacement, but also of pursued dreams and desires.  It has made things so much easier knowing we're in the same boat.  It is humbling and encouraging to live amongst such inspiring and genuinely good people.
Andy and Marco will leave for there respective homes in a day or so, however, I'm confident we'll all be seeing one another in the future.  

P.S. I found a flat and have already moved in. More to come on that, but I'll say that it's a little piece of heaven and feels like a refuge.  Samuel and Nils have also found places, and Avi, I know, will find one shortly, so send some prayers his way!

Hard Times

Today is a tough day.  It's days like this I knew were inevitable, but I didn't expect one so soon.

I looked at my sister Bekah's blog today  (and if you haven't I suggest you do keepondancinglife.blogspot.com ) and I see how much is going on at home and it's hard.  So much is changing and I'm only able to see it through pictures, blogs, emails and phone calls.  I'm thankful for this, please don't misunderstand.  But there is something to be said about hugs and kisses and playing and talking face to face.  Today the world between here and home feels a universe away.

Bekah thank you for the pictures of K's birthday, it was a beautiful party.  There is so much to celebrate near and far.

All My Single Ladies...Guys Listen Up Too!

So I've been accused of being naive, of believing the best in people, giving them, all to often, the benefit of the doubt.  Basically, I'm nice. That being said, there is something in me that really feels for people who are down on their luck, having a hard time, trying without success to navigate life. I NEED TO STOP.  As a single woman in the world this can be an attractive quality to some, but mainly the people it attracts are, well, complete nutters, as the British would say. I'd like to give you a few examples of how my naivety, niceness, idiocy has created less than awesome situations for me. Here are three lovely narratives that illustrate my point quite plainly.  

Housing

During my initial search for housing in London I came across a beautiful home that was spacious, modern and only had one person living there.  I had seen the add previously but it had been listed at a higher price.  He said his name was Shawn and that he was a naturist.  I thought, cool he eats raw vegetables and he like being outside...while eating raw veggies?  So I responded to his email because the price was right and the place was beautiful.  Then I decided to double check and make sure I was positive what a "naturist" was.  After all he said I didn't have to join in, I just had to be cool with it.  I thought, "Eat all the raw veggies you want dude, wherever you want, no problem".  And then my Google search revealed:

Naturist: noun

1.

a person who appreciates the beauty and benefits of nature.

2.

a nudist.

The reason for the decrease in the price of the room suddenly registered.
Needless to say, when he responded, I politely declined. 

Bunk-mates

As I've said before, I try and give people the benefit of the doubt.  I need to be more leery and work on my "leave me alone" vibe or what is often referred to as BRF (Bitchy Resting Face), I suppose it goes without saying.  I had a person staying in my room who was older.  He was a nice enough person, but wasn't so keen on social cues.  At any time I encountered him, say coming home from school late in the evening, working on my school work, or whenever, he would follow me, say, downstairs to the kitchen and just sit, waiting for conversation.  He watched me eat, surf the internet, take out my contacts, put on deodorant (very attractive), brush my teeth, listen to music, watch a movie, do homework, and any number of other arbitrary tasks that I undertook after our brief hello.  

Gentlemen, I'd like to let you know that this is the surest way to creep the hell out of someone and make them want to buy pepper spray by the gallon.  It's not flattering, it's unnerving and boarders, no, it is a full on stalker move.  NOT COOL!

By Invitation ONLY!

So, I'm a girl, if you're just figuring this out, please unsubscribe to my blog.  And I'm totally a fan of men, again, if you're just figuring this out...and when a tall, nerdy type (like Kryptonite to Superman) approaches me in the kitchen at the hostel and starts chatting me up, I WAS NICE!  My first problem. I thought he was interesting because he was from Guernsey, the channel islands between Britain and France. I had just read a book in book club (thank you Mrs. Hannah) called "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" that took place on Guernsey, and I was ecstatic to meet a resident...and he told me I was interesting.  EFFFF!  So we ate and talked.  The WIFI in the hostel was crap for some reason, so he suggested we walk half a block to McDonalds for coffee.  It seemed harmless and he paid...girls gotta eat, right? We had quite a bit in common. One of his favorite scenes from a movie turned out to be the scene in Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory when they take the glass elevator through the roof. WHAT?!  If you know me in any capacity at all, you are completely aware that that is my FAVORITE movie!  I really didn't think that I would find a person as quirky (to put it mildly) as me, who spoke my dialect of nerd, and yet, could he be sitting right in front of me?! PLAY IT COOL, PLAY. IT. COOL. Apparently some guys are into girls who sweat while standing still?

We talked for quite a while and in an oh-so-smooth segue, he asked if the place I was staying had a couch.  My response "I'm staying in the hostel." So then he continued to ask if it would be okay for him to couch surf in my apartment once I'd moved.  I immediately got quiet.  He pointed out that I got quiet.  What was I supposed to say!?  "Oh sure, why don't we just start flat searching right now, why wait?"  

Gentlemen, this is not normal or okay in any sense of the word. So, if any of you were thinking of leading off with this, you may as well flash her and be done with it.  If she sticks around...well she won't, so I'm not even going to humor you.

So for the last few hours I've been working on my BRF so as to prevent any further situations from arising.

It isn't easy being a single lady on the mean streets of London.  

That's about it, I just really needed to get that out there. :)

If you would like more on BRF see Anna Paquin BRF on Jay Leno, very funny! 

Finding Balance, Losing Sleep, and Abundant Provision

Having been in London a full week, I have been able to take in the things around me incrementally.  The city is alive, diverse, constantly moving, it pulsates with a kind of tangible energy.  Needless to say the ADD child inside of me is easily distracted by all the stimuli and I'm constantly having to reign myself in, as no one else around me is as elated to be here or impressed by their surroundings.  I'm sure this will wear off, but I'm not anticipating it anytime soon.

At this point I've worked out a routine and have set routes from here to there.  I have class three days a week, but there are also lots of day trips and optional outings allowing opportunities for me to see more and more of the city and surrounding area.  Although I only have class three days a week, the reading is extensive and I worry that if I don't take every opportunity to read, I'll get behind.  It's a balancing act.  Often the trips we take are on our off days so I have to make decisions based on my progress on the classwork.  These trips have become my incentive to get things done right away.  Essentially they are the cheese that keeps me motivated. And yes, I said cheese, not carrot, because lets just be honest here, I LOVE cheese and would get so many more miles out of a piece tied in front of me than I would a lousy carrot!

I'm still staying in the hostel which is itself a microcosm of the city and possesses an almost hive like busyness.  People coming and going, meeting and talking, out late, up early, new faces daily. As there is no place I am able to be alone, or a place that is quiet, I have struggled to feel settled.  I have, however, found a place near campus to study.  The Kensington library has an incredible collection of art books, as well as a huge study area that requires quiet at all times.  I have never in my life been happier to be in a library.  This will be the place over the next few weeks in which I will spend countless hours, as it feels like a refuge. That being said, it has also made me keenly aware of just how easily entertained I am.  When registering for my library card, I was given a choice of designs, NO JOKE!  It's like picking the design for your credit card, but much nerdier.  Yeah, needless to say, I was pumped.  Then I began to realize what this card represented and what it would say about me. I started sweating, okay, honestly, I'm in a perpetual state of perspiration, but I did get a little nervous.  I looked over the cards and eventually picked the edgy and modern graffiti card.  Yeah, that's me!  However, the girls in my cohort thought, without a doubt, I was a dead ringer for the dinosaur card?  PSH, whatev, they obviously don't know how HIP and COOL I am.
Yeah, I scream dinosaur, I've accepted it!  :)

I have had a hard time sleeping, but take every opportunity to do so in my oh, so cozy bottom bunk, yeah, that's right, bottom bunk!  As I've been told by Alex, whom I refer to as the social director of the room, "only the cool people have bottom bunks". YES, FINALLY!!!!  With this knowledge I immediately rebooked my room in order to nail down my cool status for at least 5 more days.  Whew! I'm earning this library card one day at a time.

As I've said before, I love the girls in my cohort.  They are smart, beautiful, determined women who have so much insight and experience to bring to every discussion.  I feel privileged to be sitting at the same table.  They are also warm, considerate and caring.  After a night of very little sleep, Amity asked if I needed a hug.  I did.  I am so lucky to be in the midst of these women and have so much to learn.  I can only begin to imagine what this year has in store.  So far I've spent a good deal with Julia and Sara. Both girls are in their 30's and made me feel right at home almost immediately.  They are my go to girls and we seem to understand each other and connect on many levels. They navigate the city and all it's challenges with ease; I tag along.  I am so thankful for them!

I have been provided for in every way possible and I'm thankful daily for the Lord's provisions, whether it be a warm bed, hot shower, a quiet place to study, a friendly smile or a hug, His provisions are abundant and that has been clear from the beginning.

Learning Experience...

Okay folks, things just got real!  

I'm officially a European traveler, as I can say that I've stayed in a hostel.  Actually, I'm currently staying in a hostel.  I woke up this morning awaiting a phone call that didn't come, a phone call in regards to a housing arrangement.  I'm not going to say there wasn't a moment or TEN of panic and there were even a few tears shed.  Then I put on my big girl panties (sorry those of you who have an aversion to the word panties), spent some time pleading with the Lord for guidance and for things to just work out...and then I realized that I had some choices to make and needed to be proactive.  So, I got online and booked myself a hostel.  I was extremely hesitant about this, but was able to book five nights for the equivalent of half the rate of a single night at my hotel.  

So remember those massive suitcases I've been hauling all over? I still am.  I checked out of my room and left my bags at the hotel so that I could go to Starbucks. It's a place that feels like home to me and it also has air conditioning.  I was able to collect myself a bit while I had some coffee and then went back to the hotel.  I asked the gal to call a taxi for me and I left.  

So, riding in a taxi is an experience all in itself in London.  Lets just say that if your suitcases are on wheels you should lay them on their side when riding in a cab.  I might have a bruise from a suitcase that slammed into my knee as we suddenly changed lanes and stopped simultaneously. I was also warned that the black cabs are very expensive, so I was nervous when one pulled up for me at the hotel.  It cost me about $30 to go 3.7 miles.  Lesson learned, but I was dreading trying to lug suitcases up the stairs and was sure that the gaggle of Portuguese Middle Schoolers was a once-in-a-lifetime-pulled-it-out-of-nowhere God moment.  I'll pay the money.  Did I also mention that there are precious few elevators in London? Something I was completely unaware of before packing two enormous suitcases.  It's amazing the little things I take for granted.  Most of the buildings are older than the U.S. so elevators are precious few and mostly in more modern buildings.  When I got to the hostel, the girl at the front desk looked at me in disbelief.  I'm sure I've given every American a bad name by this point, so no need to thank me!  OOPS!  She was awesome though, and helped me tote them up the two flights of stairs to my room.  Let me say that if you are planning on coming to Europe anytime soon, start doing squats NOW!  I think I may at this point be able to "crush man's scull between thighs" (anyone get the reference? Wreck it Ralph? Anyone? No?).  I've never sweat so much in my life!  

I was the second person to arrive in the room.  Which I am glad of, as the bunks are three high. As soon as I saw them was having visions of crushing people as I came crashing through the top bunk in the middle of the night or getting a leg cramp half way up the ladder and clobbering some innocent bystander.  I digress.  I was greeted by Alex, he is British and Turkish and gave me a proper English greeting, which is a kiss on both cheeks (on my face, creeps!).  I apologized profusely as I was sweating like a whore in church.  He was very nice.  I immediately excused myself and passed out on the bed.  I slept for a few hours and when I woke up, there were more people in the room.  The room I'm in has 12 beds in total.  By now almost all of them are full.  There are people from Australia, Sweden, Finland and Germany.  Everyone is incredibly friendly and have interesting stories to tell about their travels.  I'm much more comfortable here than I thought I would be and feel that my stay will be memorable; not in the worst-mistake-of-my-life kind of way, but more in a wow-I'm-much-more-resiliant-that-I-ever-thought, kind of way.  

I have also been given a crash course in currency.  I went into a Starbucks near the hostel and met Jimmy.  Jimmy is studying architecture while working as a barista and moonlights as a currency tutor for ignorant tourist types.  Oh, and there was a quiz!  I've really only been using my debit card, so this was my first go-round with money.  The English love their coins and there are quite a few of them.  Jimmy told me all of their values and even gave me a one pence and two/five? pence because I didn't have any of those and was surprised that they were copper.  He was probably just trying to make me go away.  He also gave me cake, so there were mixed signals.  Anyway, we also covered a few different bills as they have different looks, just as our newer bills.  Then he quizzed me at the end.  I found out that Jimmy dislikes studying columns and building styles during his architecture studies just as much as I hate Math and we found common ground in that we both found them pointless.  I like to group learning currency in with Math. I did, however, pass the test, but with a B-, which in my program, is failing!

What I'm getting at is this: There are times in life when the answers don't seem clear cut or easy and the uncertainty seems paralyzing.  But you have to take risks in order to know your true capacity.  For me the challenge has been incredibly telling.  I'm stronger than I thought and there is a sort of confidence I feel knowing that I'm managing and that things are going to be okay.  It is in this that I see the Lord's provision. He provided a situation that would stretch me and test my limitations and ultimately make me stronger and more reliant on Him. I think we often see these as the times that God has "abandoned" us, but in all honesty, he's just taking the training wheels off.  He knows we can do it, but we have to believe that we can, and trust that He's not going to let us get hurt beyond the point of repair.  

  

I now have a wild night ahead of me...my "roommates" are all going out drinking and...I'm going to do some homework. Don't be jealous! :)