Effects of An All-Nighter

I love this time of year...when each day is just a little bit longer than the last. It is 8:15 here and the sky is still increadibly blue..the sun is still pretty bright. Sometimes I forget that if I were at home, I would be going on at least the fourth week of summer. Oxford is just in a time of its own, and I still get to enjoy the world of learning for a full week before I turn in my last essay and my summer vacation starts.

The real reason I probably haven't noticed that it is summer is because it does not feel like any summer that I have ever experienced in June. Today I had to wear a jacket riding into town and on the way back in tonight my face actually became cold from the wind. I noticed it even more because I forgot to wear my ipod. I also noticed how loud the cars were as the whizzed by WAY too close for comfort. Seriously, there is no reason for a huge van to need to venture into my bike lane. As if he is not taking up enough of the main road. I feel for the drivers here. I would never know how to handle ALL the cyclists....but I do know that I would want to NOT hit them..starting with an attempt to not drive in the bike lane.

It feels much more like late April...the middle of Track season. It still smells like spring here...and it makes me feel like I have a Meet to go to where I will stress out all night until the gun is shot for the start of the 4x400. I should be spending at least an hour stretching on the the multi-million dollar grass of the infield.

I like this weather. (when it doesn't rain) It is nice to not be miserable in the heat, especially with all the cycling. Plus riding a bike in shorts makes me uncomfortable and self concious. I wore a tank top out for the first time yesterday and felt completely naked. My arms seem longer, and I forgot what it was like to worry over whether I was tan enough or not. Most of the people here I've met are very fine with being white. I'm going to miss that.

I love the fact that there are no mosquitos here.

I hate the fact that there are no fireflies. One of my favorite times of summer was a night in early june when the field behind my house was swarming twinkling lights of the fireflies. My house is at the top of the hill and so there is kind of a miniature valley behind it. It looked like there were millions of them from far away...but sort of the same way that fog doesn't feel like a cloud, when I walked in the middle I only felt surrounded by ten or so.

The days of summer are long here though. Even longer than at home. Last night the sky was still somewhat blue as of 10 o'clock. It is dark soon after, but around 3:30 the shades of blue return and by 4 am the birds become as bothersome as having a single cricket trapped in my room. I can't see the sun from my room...but by 4:30 it may as well tomorrow. I know these things because lately my body feels the need to live on some strange schedule in a time zone somewhere over the Atlantic. I haven't been to bed before 4 am in at least 4 or 5 days. Obviously, I sleep in late as well. Last night I didn't go to bed so I'm hoping to be back on track this week. Although, I have considered the benefits of staying on this pattern in avoiding jet lag when I return 2 weeks from tomorrow. But it just isn't natural- or easy- to fall asleep when the birds are singing.

Sen Lecture

Whenever I start blogging, I keep remembering things that I need to make sure I put in here before I go home and don't care about keeping this thing up anymore.

Yesterday I felt like a good little Oxford scholar...attending a whopping TWO lectures.

The first was a Sustainable Development Law conference at Exeter college. I expected lots of graduates..maybe some undergrads to be there. Instead there maybe 4 other students there, 2 of which were running the thing...and one of the girls already had her Law degree from Berkeley and a husband who is a UN Peacekeeper. Her name was Cinnamon. She was surprised when I told her I was from Ky because she actually lived in Dry Ridge (less than an hour from Georgetown) while working at University of Cincinnati for a while. It is certainly crazy the people you will meet.

The speaker was from Brazil. She discussed Environmental Law..and how to help sustainable development work in the future basically. I've never really given much thought to environmental law. I'm from an Agricultural background so you would think it would be the first thing I thought about....The conference was interesting enough..I was the only undergrad there so a lot of it was definitely over my head. I got a grasp on some of the issues though to think of for later.

The next exciting event of the day was a lecture in the Sheldonian by Amyrta Sen, professor of Economics from Havard University. I read Sen for my theories of politics course last term- his lecture was titles "What Theory of Justice"....Events like this help me to appreciate how many people are just thinking about issues for essentially their entire lives. Sen is one of the most respected scholars in political theory...he has a Nobel prize in economics....and he's still writing, researching....it just goes on forever doesn't it.

One of the most debated parts in the theories of justice is the idea of the "Impartial Spectator". Is it possible to ever consider the needs of a wider community over that of your family, friends, compatriots? Part of me wants to believe that it could happen....part of me doesn't see how it ever could.

A bit from Before

I need to read for my essay.

Instead I'm catching up on my life. I find that writing all of this down has helped me reflect a lot on what I'm actually doing with my time...as opposed to letting each day get away from me as I read my life away... I've always kept a journal of things. I started writing when I was 12 for fear that I would just forget it all at some point and my children would have no way of knowing who I was- It is strange that I would think of such things at the age of 12. I remember charting down how many miles I had run for Cross Country or Track practice...what my split was for each 4x400 meter relay competition....I thought I might decided to add all the numbers up one day and see how many miles I'd put on my body. I didn't want to forget what it was like to go through middle school, as much as I think I hated it. I didn't want to forget the names of the people I went to OBI with...since most of them I would never see again. I don't read through my journals often, but when I do it amazes me how much I HAVE forgotten of my life.

I wonder how much I will remember of Oxford. I'm getting to that point in the experience where I'm ready to go home...but also very aware of how permanent "going home" is. Leaving my Oxford friends behind after only a few months of knowing them will be sad. I will handle it because that's what I got used to doing somewhere along the way when I went to boarding school where I did good to keep the same friends for a full school year. The larger reality I'm having to face is leaving my Georgetown friends a year from now. I'm not ready to face that part of life where all the memories have been made and all I'm left with is a "This buddy of mine from college" story. I've been with my friends at Georgetown essentially longer than I have with any other group of people in my life. I think of this often. But I'll put that aside for now.

It is just interesting how much I want to hold on to memories and experiences...and that this is what largely motivates me to write so much. Some of the details are boring, of course. But then again, this blog is probably rarely read word for word by many people other than myself. I can't imagine letting this time of my life slip through the cracks with no record of what I'm going through.

It hit me recently that I can barely remember my last year at Georgetown. I stopped writing in my journal for almost a year. It was as if with each new level of stress I reached, I shyed away from writing about life. Perhaps I didn't want to remember. I wouldn't know now. I sometimes feel like I stop knowing myself when I stop writing. So I have no clue now what my deep reasoning would have been for not recording at least a thought or two down when I experienced what I feel was one of my most difficult years personally....Last fall was especially a difficult time that I'm glad to be far away from now. I remember being so distraught over a few personal issues that I couldn't bring myself to do much school work at all...it wasn't as if I had a ton to do, but I really did stop caring as much as I once did about nearly everything in general. I remember never going to bed before 2 am before my 9 am classes the next day. I remember wishing everyday that time would just go by so that those few months would be only a distant memory. Its funny that the whole time period is now a blur and much of it really is only a distant memory. I guess its good that I don't write about everything. Thinking on those months, Oxford has been a very good escape for me.

While that entire last paragraph seems to have little to do with my experience in Oxford- it really was a significant precursor to my few months here. And it is something that I want to remember to some extent in terms of who I was before coming here. It is strange how people see me as generally a put together person when re-reading my blog I think I portray someone quite a mess...this is why I love to read other people's blogs. It's interesting how some of them focus on points of view, with little emphasis on personal life....and others are almost a moment by moment account of one's daily experience. I've recently been exploring some other blogs from students at Oxford. Some of it, even though my experience as a student here will be limited, I can relate to very much. Some of it...makes me realize why I may never be the academic that I secretly wish came naturally for me....It is nice to know that there are people who care about the same things I care about...And who have a need to express their life experience through writing..to an unknown audience especially. As summer has arrived, I honestly imagine myself writing to no one now. Most of my friends are hopefully nowhere near a computer...most of my family is looking forward to seeing me, rather than spending time on here trying to catch up....

Anyway....this was just one of those notes that I needed to write...to myself..i just realized it has no logical flow or common theme other than my rambling.....if there are still people reading this thing...thanks for bearing with me and "one of my moments"

Saturday of Eights

Saturday was the exciting end of Eights. I watched the boys bump from Donnington bridge then headed down to the boathouse to visit with the girls before their race. It took me at least half an hour to walk the tow path around to the other side because they weren't allowing us to ride bikes. When I got to the boathouse, the girls asked me to Marshall for them...so I started almost immediately walking to the other side. After another half hour I arrived and was told that we had y missed the deadline to send a marshall. I felt bad that I didn't get there in time but there wasn't much we could do then... I guess the good thing about this was that I made it to the other side in time to see the girls race. (otherwise I probably would have waited to long and been too late)

The were amazing!! They bumped very soon after the start as they have done every other day...and we were soon on to celebrating their victory!

The Saturday of summer eights was one of the most "typical" Oxford type things I have been too. The river was jam packed with people coming from a wide range of social groups. Along with all the University students and boat clubs...there were families around with kids picnicking in the park side...and there were several older people dressed stylishly in the Old boat crew suit coat complete with straw hat. Smells of grill out food were every where, something I cannot wait to get back to when I go home this summer. People covered all of the boat houses...pouring along the stair cases and the railings of the balcony...the atmostphere was bustling, exciting...the rowing was pretty intense. It makes a nice memory.

What's Next

Everyday I grow more jealous of people at home who are enjoying summer without an essay looming over their head. I just felt the need to mention that. Every day I wake up planning on getting right to work...and find myself able to waste more time than than should be humanly possible. I stayed awake until 3 am last night...I had cleaned my room until about 2 but then went downstairs and ended up talking to Alanna for much longer than I planned. I really needed a good chat though. I just made it sound like I was a complete disaster in terms of cleanliness- my room wasn't that bad- but I've managed to misplace a 50lb. note that I just "know" I left in my drawer. I've noticed it missing for a couple of weeks now, but have decided not to look for it because usually that doesn't really help. Recent events, however, have demanded that I find it.

The day before yesterday I checked my mailbox to find my Debit Card there waiting for me. This was strange because I didn't even realize I had lost it! Upon checking my account I 've found 60 bucks spent on it at the Tesco (a grocery store here). I'm glad to have my card back...but nothing about this situation makes any sense. Why would some one spend my money then return my card to college? Why wouldn't they just keep it? My worst fear is that who ever did spend the money kept my number for later use.....This means that I really need to shut my card down. But I have 2 1/2 weeks left here....I can't just not have access to my money. I was hoping to find my 50 pound note- at least then I would feel like I could shut the card down and have a reasonable amount to get me by until the end. The note HAS to be in my room unless it was stolen. So I'm hoping that it just turns up, as things tend to do with me. But if I'm going to shut my card down...I don't want to take out money and then find the 50 pounds and not need to spend them!!!!

Thinking about all of this just makes me angry. I'm angry at myself if I irresponsibly misplaced both my cash and my card. Secondly, I 'm angry that someone would steal from me. Either way of course, it falls back on me to have not been more careful with my money. Most of all, I'm frustrated because I don't know what to do about it next. I am the most tight person with my money out of every one I know. To spend money beyond necessity for me generally takes a lot of convincing and reasoning with my self. To think that someone else would spend my money so generously is almost ironic- or maybe it isn't exactly irony- but it is bothersome. It makes me feel like I really cannot justify doing a lot of the things I wanted to do before I left. If I had planned to spend, say 200 more bucks before leaving....well 160 is already accounted for- even if my 50 pounds has not been spent...it seems to be as good as gone as I cannot find it anywhere.

I've maintained a fairly reasonable attitude about. Really there is nothing much I can do. If I lost my 50 and don't find it, then I just have to accept that. Even if it had been strangely stolen- I really cannot know or expect it to be returned. So I just need to accept that its gone.

As far as my credit card is concerned- the money should be refunded to me by the bank. And the important thing is that I have it back. Even if I didn't realize it was lost originally. So that's that.

The bad thing is, I have a hard time just not thinking about the fact that I have lost 100 bucks somewhere. May be in the grand scheme of my life this won't feel like that much money....but when I don't even have enough to pay for next falls' tuition...100 bucks sure seems like a heck of a lot for this moment. That's 5 trips to London, at least 4 meals that I could have dined out in Oxford, 3 nights of weekday waitressing, an opportunity to do something that I may not feel like spending the money on now that it's already gone somewhere. Thinking about it is just distracting me from work at the moment. I only have so much junk in my room...it couldn't have just dissappeared.

Aside from being cut in line...losing money or being robbed is probably my second greatest source of frustration to an irrational extent.

Tonight the Regent's students are presenting the play Twelfth night. It looks beautiful outside for the moment so I guess we will be able to have it outside!! I should have worked more today. I guess there will always be work to do.

Summer Eights Week and Vivaldi's Gloria

Wednesday, May 30th 2007

Last week was an exciting time for the Regents Park rowing team- the week of Summer Eights. Even though I wasn't actually rowing in the boat for competition time, my daily schedule centered around the women's racing.

I missed the races on Wednesday, but on Thursday was able to watch the second round. Because the river isn't wide enough to have 13 or so boats race side by side, the boats line up and attempt to catch the boat in front of them (called a Bump because they used to actually hit the boat with their own) before they are caught by the boat behind them. This is not so easy...if the boat in front of ours bumps successfully...then both that boat and the boat they caught are out of the race...and our girls then have to catch the boat that was in front of both of them...So, you can see how a lot of the competition is based on skilled rowing...and a lot is based on pure luck...

My house is just around the corner from the river...so several of us from Stanely road went to Donnigton Bridge to watch the girls race on Thursday. The gun fired...and several teams went by us while our girls were nowhere in site. Finally, we saw a group dressed in red heading into the trees...this was clearly the Regents team, but we could not figure out why they weren't rowing straight. My heart sank for the team convinced that something had gone horribly wrong...but apparently, they had bumped with in the first 15 strokes of the start and just needed to move out of the way!!

It was a beautiful day, so I found my books in the SSL and went to the University Parks to read for a while before dinner. I couldn't imagine spending a day as beautiful as this one inside a library...even if it is more effective for studying. Like I've mentioned before, the sun is not promised to show up everday here..so I have to enjoy it when I can...I watched a bunch of students play ultimate frisbee. I was jealous, trying to recall the last time I had been able to play. I think it must be last fourth of July at my house. I thought about how frisbee must be a universal college pastime...if school in America were in session right now...there would sure enough be a ton of students playing in a field at any given university.

Friday was gross and rainy outside...but my housemates and I braved the weather to watch the races once again...and of course, our girls did an amazing job bumping fairly quickly into the race again.

Gloria
I couldn't hang around for long, because this was the evening of our Choir performance of Vivaldi's "Gloria". We have only been working on the piece for a few hours overs the course of 5 weeks, which is not really any time at all to learn such a piece. I have loved being part of a choir again, even if I really don't read music that well. Singing is just one of those things I need in life -for stress relief...artistic expression...or just to be part of the music...I don't know what it is. The neat thing about Gloria was that we performed it right in our own quad at Regents. The rain cleared off to make for the most beautiful setting. The concert was preceeded by free Pimms for the audience- who were all dressed up as formal hall was to follow. It was just one of those moments that is exclusive to my Oxford life. Vivaldi, tuxes, and a endless flow of Pimms shared by students and faculty in the garden before dinner.

Formal hall had an extra bit of excitement to it..complete with table cloths..and a much greater crowd than usual because of the concert. Though no event followed I spent quite a lot of time visiting in the JCR before heading home.

Fourteen down, Two to go

Tuesday, May 29,2007

Where did May go? As of today I have exactly 3 weeks left to enjoy Oxford. I cannot believe how fast time has gone by.

Today I had my 6th tutorial of the term. Its funny that I feel how I did based on the trip following my tutor from the front door of his building to his office. Generally we discuss how much its been raining...or how nice it is that it finally stopped raining...today there wasn't any small talk on our way up the stairs. His first question to me is "How did you find the reading this week?" This allows me time to elaborate on what I didn't understand...and offer up some excuse for why my essay was not that great. This week my topic was the role of culture in conflict...I just felt so scattered in the reading and this immediately was reflected in my essay. Well, at least my intro was pretty good. The hour did go by fairly fast though, and I didn't feel as much tension as the last time my essay didn't turn out so well. I'm glad he doesn't talk about being dissapointed, which is was my last tutors response when I did less than what he thought I was capable of. I guess there was some element of motivation though....I'm horrible at just feeling guilt ridden if I think I've let someone down.

We actually did talk about allergies at one point- which I am having a TERRIBLE time with at the moment. Saturday evening, the night before I begin writing the essay, I come up with a massive headache around my eyes. No matter how much I slept I felt like I just could not keep my eyes open. I had wanted to go to the rowing dinner to celebrate the team winning blades that afternoon...but instead I fell asleep around 9 pm. (yeah these are the moments when I just feel lame) I woke up when Kristie came in- and my clock said it was 11. My plan was to get back up and read for a while so I could get started on the essay in the morning....but when I finally managed to get out of bed I realized it was 2 am!! So, it appears my clock is broken. I read an article, went back to sleep at 4 , then got back up at 1pm on sunday. 12 hours of sleep total, and when I woke back up I still felt just horrible.

I have never had time in my life to be sick. My work week is not scheduled around the possibility of being knocked out for a day until I start to "feel better". I have always had the worst attitude when I comes to being sick. First, I refuse to take medicine until the pain makes it unbearable obvious that I am ill enough for it. I never had a good reason for this. Its just how I am. Secondly, I never concede to my sickness and stop my routine for it. I have always felt that if I can tell myself not to be ill, it will be so. Needless to say, getting through my essay writing last Sunday was a tedious and painful task when my eyes wanted so badly to rest. Luckily my sister happened to go home this weekend so I was able to call her on skype..and probably spent too much time talking to her and my parents. Around 2 I did started to feel better. I slept from 5am to 7am...then went about the business as usual of finishing up the essay right in time to sprint on my bike to Regent's, print my paper, and walk the hard copy down to Nuffield college.

This walk is one of the most rewarding times of the week. Every sunday night I wonder how the week went by so fast, and when will this endless writing process ever end... and every monday afternoon I think "that wasn't so bad". James, another guy from Regent's, also has my tutor for a different topic. We usually walk together, talk about how it went...how sleep deprived we are, and how our tutorial dates go,- how his threats of no tutorial have actually been successful in helping us get the essays turned in. I laughed when James said that he's never turned in essays on time until now-and how last week he turned up to a tute with out any essay at all...I'm sure if I actually went to school here I would be in the same situation a lot. I've met a lot of students at oxford who have punctuality issues.....like I really belong..haha.

It is so nice to have someone with the same tutor as me this term, someone who can understand what it's like to sit there in an hour session being expectedto know far more than I do (and justifiably, because my knowledge of history is pathetic ow)....we laugh about the moments when he asks us the details of our discipline and all we can do is sit there in silence staring at the ground...hoping he will eventually consent to helping us about with the answer. I've finally gotten to the point where I will just admit that I don't know...rather than bearing the awkwardness of complete silence for what seems like ages.

I can't imagine what Lee's response would be if I told him the essay would just have to hold off because my face hurt.

Fortunately, I pushed through an got the thing finished, and my 14th Oxford tutorial is over. Now I can just sit in the bodleian...admire the Radcliffe Camera from this gigantic window across from me..wonder why this guy next to me isn't wearing any shoes like this is his room or something....and do some much needed catching up on my blog.