Yo

It's not that the past couple of weeks haven't had things happen in them - dealing with ideas for jobs, and doing my first journal paper review which was a very interesting and slightly scary experience, and slyly indoctrinating my girl scouts into the ways of Oxfam Unwrapped (most satisfactory, as was seeing the probing questions they asked about things), and buying Christmas presents, and having various holiday season festivities, and learning about the madness that are cookie swaps, and being taught to make jap chae (omg so good), and of course proofreading Nick's thesis which led to the discovery that I can be a really picky proofreader if I put my mind to it - but I've also been spending rather too much time inside my head, and what's there isn't really fit for public consumption. I'm not sad or upset or anything like that - just been mulling over lots of things, not quite sure to what end.

Anyway - off home soon, which will be interesting in itself - so happy holidays and all that.

Winter has come

So, Nick has gone and winter has come. The two, I admit, are somewhat unrelated - but I thought it made for a nice literary/pathetic flourish :-) And actually, winter hasn't really come properly either, to be honest - we've been alternating days of proper cold and frost on the grass with days like today, which were around 15C and sunny and lovely, so...

Lack of posting has been mainly through lack of time and energy than lack of things to talk about. There's been lots of little things going on, keeping us busy both during the week and at weekends, and somehow blogging got pushed back.

Still on a weather-related note for a moment, I seem to have missed the wonderful autumnal foliage colours that I got to see last year. Not sure if it's because the rain got in the way, or the being in LA, or just being generally distracted and driving rather than walking/cycling around - but it's a little sad. Hopefully there will be some to make up for it next autumn!

But we have been getting outside, honest! For example, one morning we went for a nice walk in the woods behind the Princeton Battlefield. It was very pretty - cf. photo:



and involved an optional crossing of a very shaky rope bridge (look familiar, Chris?) which I REALLY did NOT enjoy doing but sort of felt I had to, to prove a point or overcome my fears or some such motivational crap. Might opt to remain unmotivated and unproven next time though.



And, just to show you how in touch with nature we are, we also spent a few minutes observing and photographing a rather hair caterpillar-type creature, appropriately decked out in Princeton colours:



Our being-in-touch-with-nature-ness actually goes even further - have I ever waxed lyrical about my farm scheme thingy? No? Shame on me!! So, here, instead of (or as well as) having deliveries of veggie boxes, you can also buy a 'share' in the farm (sadly to be paid upfront, covering 6 months) and each week you go to the farm and pick up whatever has been collected that week, of which you get, unsurprisingly, a share; and there are also other crops that you can and pick yourself in the fields, also within measure; and it's all very nice and wholesome and local and ethical (probably) and organic and means that clutching obscure root vegetables while pondering their fate has remained a viable activity for me rather than being simply an Oxonian memory. ANYway. The point of this was, that in mid-November the scheme ends and before they close down the farm for the season, they have the 'annual pig-out', whereby we members could go and roam the fields and collect any leftover produce for our own benefit.

This sounds very nice, and very fun, and the weather happened to be absolutely lovely that Sunday morning, so we naively set out to get a few veggie things for the winter ahead. Oh reader, we were naive indeed! We had no trowel, nor garden shears, nor towers of bags and containers as all the other infinitely more prepared people had. Nor did we have any knowlege of many vegetables, and roamed the fields wondering what was chard and what was weeds. We did manage a few successes, such as snapping broccoli heads off, and unearthing small celeriacs, and our personal favourite, digging out carrots with our bare hands. While watching our neighbour doing it with a trowel and being about 10 times faster than us. We concluded that farming is helluva hard work, and it's no surprise that people get the urge to give it up. Yes, it feels very satisfying to stand up clutching a punnet of carrots that you yourself have extracted, but it also feels very painful on your back - and that was just after a few minutes, done for fun, not for a living....

What else...mainly we just lived like a normal couple, which was the whole point of it really. Occasionally went out with friends, or went to see them for dinner/coffee (yes! I have that kind of friends now! Amazing what a difference a year makes). Cooked lots - we tackled my collection of random snipped-out recipes and gave them a go, which was fun, if not always successful. You should have by now seen (on FB) the glorious picture of the glorious roast chicken, among other things...And of course, we had our first American Thanksgiving (I'd gone to see Nick in Europe last year) with my family in NYC, which was nice in both a culinary and a sociable sense.

And in the last few days, we've just been dealing with a seemingly endless stream of conference deadlines, forms to fill in and send off, applications for jobs, conversations about The Future, and the like. Obviously I am incredibly sad to be here on my own again, but there is so much to do - more deadlines coming up, more work stuff, more applications to be made, more thinking to be thought - to say nothing of the Christmas shopping - that I hope to get through the next few weeks relatively unemotionally. As for the new year...can't make any promises I'm afraid!

It is perfectly possible to get around LA by bus

Last week (was it last week? Maybe two weeks ago. Anyway, recently) we had a little trip to Los Angeles. It was good - it was good to have a bit of a break (I worked out that apart from trips home and to the UK, I hadn't had 5 consecutive days of holiday in a good two years) and it was interesting. And I loved it that it was so hot - up to 30 degrees (celsius) at some points!

There are photos on flickr and FB, and here are some random impressions on it all.

First: it's a loong way away. Well, 6 hours, which somehow doesn't seem so bad when you're going to the UK - but it feels wrong to be on a plane for six hours, and still be in the same country when you land. This land is a big land.

We were staying in Westwood, which is where the UCLA campus is (because of Nick's conference) and I think it's a great area to stay in if you're not desperate to be near the beach, or in a very glitzy place or suchlike. Because of the students, there's loads of cheap places to eat, cafes, ladidah coffee shops (in one - a very small one - we counted 4/5 macs and a customised dell), and somewhat interesting shops.

Also, crucially, there are many many buses that go to most places you want to get to, at acceptable intervals and very low prices (75 cents or $1.25), thus proving wrong all those who say that you can't possibly survive without a car as a tourist, or that you will miss out on many things if you.

Exhibit A: we got the bus to the splendid Getty Center and were there in 15 minutes. We loved it. You take a little train-tram thingy up the hills, and you end up in this complex of museum rooms and terraces and gardens. The museum, which spans several centuries of art, is just the right size to be interesting and finish before you're bored or tired. The terraces give you 360 degree views of the Santa Monica bay, the surrounding hills, the 405 freeway, and downtown LA in the far distance. The gardens are really pretty. Heck, even the food was good, and how often can you say that of museum cafes? We spent a good 4/5 hours there. Oh, and it was all free. Hurrah for multimillionaires, I guess...

Exhibit B: I went to and from Hollywood very easily, with the trip taking just 35 minutes, and going past all the pretty villas on Sunset Blvd, the gated compound of Bel Air, and bits of Beverly Hills. Ok, so at times I felt a little out of place on the bus, I confess, but it's probably my fault for being a bit snobbish. I definitely never felt unsafe or too uncomfortable - though I was very obviously the only non-local. I have to say, I wasn't keen on Hollywood at all - I had been warned that it is a little tacky and touristy, but I think this is a bit of an understatement....it was a zoo. Overrun with tourists, and with people hawking wares photos special rides souvenirs tickets vouchers and godknowswhatelse. The famous sidewalk with all the stars? Well, that's where we all walk, so it's not exactly practical to take a closer look or search for a particular name. There are some very lovely vintage buildings though, such as this one -



And I guess at least I can say I've been.

Exhibit C: On Sunday we took a bus to Santa Monica, and, again, got there relatively quickly and easily. I loved loved loved it. I loved the pedestrian avenue, I loved the enormous beach, the tacky arcade, the ocean, the dolphins that randomly turned up to play for us, the sunset - everything. It was basically what you imagine when you think of LA, and I hadn't actually had had much of it until then - in fact, a distinctive characteristic of the city seems to be to connect items of interest and/or beauty (a museum, a farmers' market, Hollywood, whatever) with enormous patches of great squalor and - not quite ugliness, nor run-downness, but...unkemptness maybe. Not particularly nice to walk about, or look around, which is sad, because I like walking randomly around places I don't know.

When I wasn't busy critically appraising the public transportation and the urban layout of the city, I turned my attention to other worthwhile pursuits. I walked around the UCLA campus a bit, which was pretty in what I assume is the style de riguer at Californian universities, since I also saw it at Stanford - a sort of cross between Romanesque and Mexican estate, cf. photo (and admire the sky while you're at it! No photoshop involved). Also overrun with tanned leggy blond people wearing too short shorts and flip flops (of both genders). Actually now that I think of it, not just blond, but pleasingly a zillion times more diverse than, say, Princeton.



I also had the great joy of meeting up with a friend of mine from the MPhil who now lives out there, in Long Beach to be precise - he took me out there, via a fun detour down Rodeo Drive (so I can say that I've seen it!), and it was another part of the city I really liked - more in the way of awesome old buildings, nice looking cafes and bars, and a sort of marina/quay type place where we had dinner.



All in all, a successful trip - not necessarily on my top 10 places to rush back to perhaps, but fun, and pleasing, and timed just right.

Binge gigging

So, where were we...last week was a cornucopia of excitement and gigs, starting from the Saturday - Patti Smith was doing an 'event' at the Metropolitan Museum, to tie in with this exhibition. To be honest we weren't entirely clear what she would do when we got the tickets, but I had a very good memory of a concert of hers in Naples a few years ago and I was keen to see her again, whatever she did.

The exhibition was of portraits of Americans taken in the 50s, and the theme of her show was a celebration of this sort of retro Americanness, the Americanness of the time I guess. This manifested itself in the form of songs - hers and others' - and reading poetry, and bits of prose. Which would be really cool - except that she was all giggly and nervous and I don't know what, and kept relying on her daughter who was there playing the piano and who had apparently helped arrange the whole thing, and it was sort of endearing, but also a bit annoying and surprising, to be honest. Maybe she just wasn't used to this setup? Because when she sang, she was awesome. It was the voice and the energy and the awesomeness you expect. It was a really interesting switch. And then at the end she read out Ginsberg (of course) and it was really very amazing, and you really realised what the Beat poets were aiming for, writing poetry that read like jazz music, totally mesemerizing. My favourite moment, I think.

Then, a couple of days later, Alan Bennett was giving a talk here at the university. Again, it wasn't clear what he'd be doing, but I was massively excited nonetheless as I loved Untold Stories and his diaries and last year I heard a wonderful rendition of the Lady in the Van recited by Alan Bennett himself and Maggie Smith which made me love him even more (especially since it was during one of my miserable flu bouts). Anyway. So off we went, and the best thing was that he started off with a comment on how he last year he had needed quite serious surgery and it was all done on the NHS and it had been great and hurrah for socialised medicine - which got him a huge applause and pleased us greatly. He talked a little bit about his youth, and then started reading from Untold Stories, occasionally giving some context or commentary to what he was reading - and it was nice to hear him read, but having read the book not too long ago, it wasn't quite as thrilling as one might have hoped. He took a couple of (mostly inane) questions at the end, and that was it. It made me a little sad actually, to see him, as he is a bit old, and a bit frail - not decrepit or anything like that, but clearly older rather than younger, and you just wanted to go and hug him...

At both events, we were struck by the behaviour of the audience. They seemed almost fulsomely overappreciative, exaggerated in their applause, their sometimes grating laughter which frankly sounds rather fake especially when what was said was not very funny to begin with, their naughty giggling when someone said the word fuck or mentions sex as if they were 6 instead of 60 - it drove us insane at times. Am I being too harsh? But really, there were times when I just wanted to turn around and slap someone. Or maybe I should become less cynical and rejoice that my fellow humans are relishing the moment. Maybe.

But wait! There is more. One morning during my usual manic cycling through the four radio stations I have memorized, trying to find one that played music rather than moronic adverts for products we will never need ('We wrap children too!' - this being a mudwrap service to make you look temporarily thinner - but I digress), one morning, as I was saying, I happened to hear that AC/DC were playing in Philly the following week. I foolishly mentioned this to Nick, thinking that it might be too hard or expensive to find tickets - but I was proved wrong on both counts, and last Wednesday I found myself headed down 95 to commune with rockers of all ages, feeling quite out of place without a band t-shirt or red light-up devil horns to my name....

So there I was, at an AC/DC concert, of which I know maybe three songs, and do not feel any particular attachment to - but I was willing to see if they put on a good show, which I fully expected them to. And it was a good show! We also happened to have very amazing seats (oh yeah - bizarrely, this was a seated thing, of course everyone was standing, but we had assigned seats which made it a lot less chaotic, and harder to dance around, and meant there was no moshing which was a bit sad - all in all a bit odd, but less danger of bruising or squashing I guess) which were maybe a few dozen yards from the stage, so we didn't really need to rely much on the big blow up screens. It was a proper show, with flames and giant props and lights and all. They are definitely out to entertain and get us to have fun, and that's great. They are also a little aged though, and seemed to need frequent breaks to breathe and drink water and get their stuff together...still, Angus is definitely a great guitar player, and did amazing solos, and I salute that ;-) If I can get to 55 or 62 and caper about like that....So, all in all, it wasn't the most stimulating gig from a quality-of-music point of view, but it was a lot of fun.

And with that, I take my leave.

Dr Displaced, or How I learned to stop whingeing and love the postdoc

A year! Today is not only the birthday of two very good friends, and of one of my godmother's adorable sons, but we also mark one year since I came here. I remember all too well the gut wrenching moment when I grabbed Sandra's arm at Heathrow and just started bawling desperately, and then how I had to quickly compose myself again to deal with the fact that my hand luggage was too fat and I had to leave more stuff behind and stop crying so I could focus. And then what with one thing and another I didn't actually have that much time before boarding, which was good, as it gave me less of a chance to mope.

You know that my first few months here were, well, pretty grim. And not just because of the constant getting ill. There is no way I would have got through it without you all - you know who you are - the Skyping, the letting me cry abundantly, the always being there, the care packages, the everything. And also the little things, the friendly comments on FB and on this blog, the random encouragement - it all helped. I missed everything and everyone so much, it was physically painful, and it got worse once Nick was back in England. So, thank you for pulling (or should that be pushing?) me through it.

Of course, everything started coming together eventually. Nice people at work became friends rather than just colleagues - and for that I am deeply, deeply grateful. My flat felt more and more like home. I finally got round to driving and improved my life 300% overnight. It stopped being snowy and 10 below zero all the time. Basically, I snapped out of it, I guess, and can now view the prospect of my second year here with great equanimity, indeed even pleasure, as things will be reassuringly familiar the second time round...

So, what have we learned this year, boys and girls?

Skype is one of the greatest inventions of the century. Fact.

I am capable of driving, even on motorways, and sometimes I even enjoy it.

I also possess a very embryonic sense of spatial awareness, though now that I own one I will never abandon my GPS.

Nope, still don't miss teaching.

I'd rather pay more taxes and not have to worry about the cost an ambulance, needing prescription medicines, or being ambushed by a massive pothole.

New Jersey ain't so bad. Cf. the farms, the shore, the endless amusement derived from the local riche.

But NYC is something else.

I can bake, some of the time.

I can also shovel snow.

There is so much stuff available to watch on the web, I barely register the lack of a TV. (ok, so the UK doesn't have Hulu, but then we don't have the iPlayer, so we're equal)

The subject of the multiculturality of this country, and the integration or otherwise of so many different nationalities and ethnicities, deserves a post of its own really. I'll just note here that one of the things I like best, and I think exemplifies this best, is the way that noone blinks twice when faced with an unusual, foreign, oddly spelled surname, but just takes their best guess at it - very refreshing.

It's very civilised to have all customer service numbers be 1800, and not be kept waiting for a zillion minutes, and have problems solved when you do speak to them.

It's less civilised to have it be barely possible to buy groceries without needing a car and/or a loan from the bank.

It's even less civilised to be charged to receive calls on your mobile.

NYC is one of the greatest cities ever (hm, have I mentioned this before?).

I think I passed the test.
When I applied for this job, I kept saying that one of the reasons I wanted to come here was to see if I could do it - if I could come out here, on my own, and go through with it. I admit that for the first few months I gave the impression of being anything but 'with it', and I probably was a little melodramatic.

But tonight, let me gloat: I'm here, and I'm happy.

Rushed update

Things that have been keeping me busy: revising a report on my past year's work which somehow grew to 17k words; cooking random new recipes, not all of them with massively successful outcomes; seeing my girls dissect owl pellets and get very excited about it; wandering around Prospect Park in Brooklyn and enjoying it immensely; watching lots of Mad Men; admiring the changing colours of the leaves, which look especially good against the very crisp, clear blue skies, especially when I go to work in the morning; cursing the stinginess of the city council that gives us potholes on the streets and dodgy slates on the pavements; feeling ashamed about how cheap petrol is; appreciating the benefits of having a great public library.

What a very active post! The time for reflection is nigh, fear not...

If you cut me, I bleed green

But not because I've suddenly become Irish, or an alien: the green in question refers to Girl Scout green, since the past week or so seems to have been rather consumed by various GS-related events and activities. Or rather, various GS-related events and activities seem to have consumed me in the past week.

It started innocently enough, with the first troop meeting of the year. We now have 10 girls instead of 5, and I think paradoxically it's a great improvement; the girls are less wild, because it's harder to egg everyone on when the group is larger, so I'm happy. Also we have two moms helping out with meetings, and one of them in particular has a very calm, soothing voice, slightly mesmerizing actually, so I look forward to working with her more.

Then we had the leaders' meeting (and remember this comes after a week where I'd already spent a total of almost 9 hours in various GS-related training sessions), which somehow took three hours, what with organising the coming year, and putting the finishing touches on the camping schedule. Then later in the week more last-minute scrambling to get essential camping supplies such as balloons and rope and make name badges.

Thankfully one evening was spared by the madness and we escaped to Philly for a Regina Spektor gig. It was really nice - although she doesn't go in much for audience interaction (apart from having to apologise the two times she forgot her lyrics), or indeed showiness (she was wearing a sort of black shirt-dress, nice but very low-key) - the woman can sing! (and play the piano) It was really very beautiful and fun and good, even if the venue was overridden with girls that looked about 16 and were all dressed up and screamed at an incredible pitch for every little thing. I suppose it's good that there is some youth who go in for sensible demure singer-songwriters who write fun and clever lyrics rather than Britneys and Miley Cyruses (did you know that she sings too? They keep playing her song on the radio, it's terrible), but it was a little overwhelming.

And then, finally, the big event that all this had been leading to: the camping weekend! This took place at a campsite about half an hour from here, and about 12 troops of all ages were there, some just for the day activities, other staying overnight for one or two nights. Apart from a couple of days at a festival a few years ago, I hadn't been camping since I was 15 or so, so I was looking forward to and dreading it in equal measures. Maybe a bit more of the latter actually, once I spotted the 'How to stay safe in bear country' page in our camping booklet.

The campsite was beautiful. It's Scouts only and is run by a very fun, energetic couple who are really into it. I got there before K. and the rest of my troop and had some very peaceful moments just being away from everything, in the quiet-that-isn't-really-quiet of foresty places, and felt nicely set up for the weekend. Over the course of which, we did lots of fun things: a bumpy nighttime ride on the back of a haywagon (a great way to see a forest at night without getting too freaked out), archery (yes, I suck), marshmallow roasting :-), the girls did boating and lots of running around, singalongs, etc.

There were also some difficult moments of course, ranging from trying to get 7, 9, and 10 year olds to get along, to getting anyone to listen to us, having to frantically contact parents of girls who have changed their mind at the last minute about staying overnight, and, of course, waking up in the night to the sound of rain and the slow dripping of cold water on your face and/or sleeping bag. The rain really annoyed us actually, it started raining the evening of Saturday, which meant a rush in the semi-darkness to store everything properly, and went on through the night (hence the damp awakening) and all Sunday morning as we were trying to pack up and clear everything away - not ideal, and it meant we were deprived of our lovely campfire on one of the evenings.

But! On Sunday morning we had a special guest, one Anna Goodale of the US Olympic rowing team, who won gold in Beijing as well as a slew of other world championships. The idea was that she would come and give a talk to the girls and be inspiring, but she went well over that. She turned up before 8am (she lives in Princeton as US Rowing is based here), hung around where the girls were making breakfast, helped out, chatted to them, asked them lots of questions - she was so charming and so nice and so good with them! I was in awe. Her talk was great too - pitched just at the right level and with such a good narrative arc, the woman didn't start rowing until she went to college and a couple of years later she was on the national team!! It's refreshing to hear of Olympic champions who have achieved greatness without having necessarily had to sacrifice their whole childhood to it. Not that she doesn't have to work hard now - training twice a day, 6/7 days a week...Anyway, her talk was great, she also had a video of the Olympics race where they won gold, which she played for us and sort of commented along which was cool - and she brought her gold medal along, which was big and heavy, and let all the girls touch it, and signed autographs for them, and was generally really down to earth and friendly - we were all completely bowled over.

On a more reflective note, I am constantly impressed by the skills and maturity some of these girls display - and not just my own, but many of the ones throughout the troops. They organise activities for the younger ones, get them excited about owl pellets, teach them about outdoor cooking in a really engaging manner - it's fun to be around them, and sometimes you get distracted by how grown up they seem and start to think you can treat them like mini-adults...until their next attack of petulance. Oh well - better than nothing...

Also, I enjoyed the opportunity to spend some time with the other leaders. In fact, I have to say that getting to know these women better, and learning from them, is for me one of the biggest perks of my volunteering. I think it's hard for people my age to come across really inspiring role models who are not their mothers - what we need is people who are a few steps ahead of us, but not too far away generationally - say 10/15 years older maybe - to give us a sense of what the next few years of our life might be like, and what challenges and balancing acts we are likely to encounter. Anyway, it's hard to find these people sometimes. I've been extremely lucky in the past couple of years in having had one such person land in my lap with whom I share not just a field of research but also a sense of...uhm, I don't know what word to use, (in)appropriateness? basically the point is that I can talk about anything without feeling awkward or embarassed or like I'm being judged! Although said person will always remain my biggest inspiration, I feel I have a lot to learn from these other women I am getting to know, too. They may not be my role models in every sense - I am rather disinclined to produce a seemingly endless supply of offspring, for instance - but they have so much energy, so much ability to multitask, to have lots of amazing projects on the run at the same time, and keep a family together, and make sure all their multiple children are having lots of great experiences, and in many cases have really cool jobs too - I definitely look up to them in that respect, and I feel ashamed that at my slightly younger, more unencumbered age, I often lack the willpower to even finish revising a measly article.

So ends the account of the past few days. I think I am still recovering from the camping in some ways, but I am pleased that I did it, and really it wasn't so bad: apparently all those years of Girl Scout camp have somehow left their mark, and I still have it in me...

Shame-faced update

Uhm, ok, so, when was the last time I wrote? Quite a while ago it seems....sorry. It's not that things haven't been busy or interesting - just not all of it is appropriate blog material. I had a nice Labor Day weekend, where among other things I went to my friend-through-GirlScouts Karen's house for a bbq. I seem to have been ending up at her house a lot recently, I like her and her family very much and it's kinda nice to be absorbed into a 'real' family, even if it is so different from my own, what with having 3 small children and all.

Then Nick got here two weeks ago, which is great, of course - we seem to have found a satisfactory arrangement for things like desk space, drawers, etc so that is a relief :-)

At the end of his rather hectic first week here, we drove down to Cape May, basically the southernmost tip of NJ, for the wedding of an ex-housemate of mine. Cape May is very pretty, if slightly twee - I'm not sure one could stay there for more than 3 days without being overcome by violent feelings towards flowered wallpaper and the Ye Olde Seaside Towne 'vibe' - and the wedding was so so lovely and happy and generally wonderful to be a part of, despite the somewhat heavy influx of London lawyer types there.

The past week has been busy with Girl Scout stuff; I am now trained to have the girls sell nuts and magazines (though, thankfully, not 'Nuts' magazine), as well as being certified in Adult, Child, and Infant CPR and First Aid and defibrillator use. It was a little tiring to sit through 3 hours of the latter for two nights after work, and getting home closer to 10 than 9, but it is useful to have these skills I suppose (as well as being required!) and it is interesting in a way to chat more to the various Girl Scout leaders/moms, and get to know them better.

Also we have been revelling in the joys of NJ farms, picking blackberries and apples and enjoying one of the farms' 'Apple Days' today which, though admittedly would have been most exciting for children, wasn't so bad for us either - apple picking, a corn maze, farm animals to coo over, roast pork sandwiches, wagons, pumpkin patches...I think the farms around here, and the great ways they find to let you interact with them, are one of my favouritest thing of NJ.

That, and going to the shore to play extremely violent videogames :-)

Whizzing through the colonies

Having soon shelved our ambitious plans of travel to Alaska and Nova Scotia, due to excessive work and tiredness, the parents and I resized our holiday schedule to a rather more modest set of 3 long weekends where I only took the Friday off, which is a half day anyway so it's not as bad. In said long weekends we aimed for place within our reach, namely NYC, Washington DC, and Pennsylvania, which also happen to be among the original colonies, but that has nothing to do with it - geographical proximity was our main concern.

You've all heard me rave about how much I love NYC more than enough. And every time I go I fall in love all over again. I can't see the dirtiness, or the chaos - I just see amazing architecture, and electrifying energy running through everything, and it makes it the perfect antidote to Princeton suburbanness. I felt quietly smug when my parents had to admit that it was a lot nicer than they remembered it from 20 years ago, and really enjoyed their time there. I am overcome by the urge to live there for a while - it just makes me so happy to be there.

We did all sorts of things - saw West Side Story on Broadway, which is one of my favourite musicals, and it was great; had the chance to spend some proper quality time with both my cousins, which my parents also greatly appreciated; went to the newly-opened High Line, which is a park on a disused elevated train line downtown, and has amazing views out onto the water (yes, even if it is 'only' NJ), and glorious sunsets; went to the Met which had an exhibit on Afghan artifacts with some truly stunning objects - you can see some of them here, my personal favourite was the folding crown, for easy transport :-) . Genius.

Another weekend saw us in Washington DC, which is about a 3hr drive from here. I'd been once before - when I was 12 and my cousin was graduating from Georgetown - but I didn't remember much. Two things stand out there, in my opinion - the amazing museums and the amazingly monumental public architecture. We only managed two museums, and opted for 'local' ones, ie things we would be less likely to find, say, in Europe - so the American History and the American Indian museums. And despite spending many, many hours in each, we still had to operate selectively and miss out some of the things on show.

The most interesting thing of them, I think - and this goes with the observations on the monumentalism of the public architecture - is this underlying current of trying to fashion some sort of History for the country, making sure everything is recorded and possibly glorified and triumphantly displayed.



I guess I can sort of understand the big monuments - most capital cities tend to go in for this kind of thing, after all - though it is a bit overwhelming to walk down the Mall or similar and be assaulted by memorial after memorial, giant white column after giant white column. But in the museum, the careful display of Chelsea Clinton's ballet shoes, or Abraham Lincoln's pocket watch, or some random president's pyjamas - that I find harder to get my head around. It's like there is a need to make up for the missing centuries of History, and so everything has to be clawed back and used to fashion some.

I'm not trying to be critical - there is no judgement involved, just slight puzzlement. After all, it is true that this country took in a vast amount of people, and tried to get everyone settled somehow, and that is astounding. And I guess it's not much different from the ancient Romans et al coming up with suitably awe-inspiring stories of who founded what and how special they were. But it's oddly fascinating to see it applied in the relatively recent past.

Other than that, the DC weekend was also marked by the very pleasant reunion with a family we were friends with in Germany, and hadn't seen since we'd left - and we'd managed to track each other down again via FB :-) It was really nice to see them again after 17 years (!!) and try and catch up on everything that had happened in between. We also dropped by in Baltimore to see another family friend, and so got a a glimpse of the city's waterfront, which is very pretty.

Finally, we spent two days in Lancaster County in Pennsylvania to see the countryside and the Amish way of life. That, too, was fascinating in its way. We didn't go on any 'guided tours' but we did drive around the countryside loads and went to various museums and bookshops and obviously saw a lot of Amish people around and tried to get a sense of what everyday life is like. I have to say I have mixed feelings about it all, but I think it may be inappropriate to vent my doubts in public, so I'll keep them to myself, and you can ask me about it if you really want to know more.

And with that, ends the account of my 'summer holidays', though Nick and I have a couple of weekends away planned while he's here, so there is plenty to look forward to!

Oxford is a state of mind

As proof that this blog does not forget its roots (aka its title), I interrupt the scheduled summary of my holidays with a few scattered thoughts that have been going through my head recently, things that I have been mulling over far more than is good for me, and which have led to a shocking epiphany (albeit one that had been building up for a while). It's happened. I got over it. I don't care that I'm not in Oxford any more. I don't feel like I am in exile here, or just in a kind of suspended status until some unlikely return. I live here, my life is here, it's not a bad place to live, and I can just get on with it.

Shocking, I know. And about time. I'm not sure quite what did it. I guess partly it was, inevitably, the passing of time, and with it the increasing feelings of familiarity with my surroundings, the people here, the places to go and the roads to get lost on.

Also something (the umbilical cord?) sort of snapped when I was last in the UK in July, and I was only in Oxford very fleetingly - and it didn't hurt. Unlike the other times. I didn't mind that I wasn't there for longer. I could acknowledge that though it was an enormous part of my life, and the home of some of the people I love most, it was no longer *my* home, and I just had to deal with it. And it felt weird, but also a little liberating.

I guess this last part also has a lot to do with it - who is or isn't there. I think it may not be a coincidence that these revelations have been building up over the span of a few weeks when first Rob, then Nick, have moved out of Oxford, and if they ever return, it won't be as students. It's not quite that my years there acquire meaning only via boyfriends - that would be a bit excessive even for me. But, ultimately, a lot of said years were shared with them, and memories, and growing up both academically and as people, in the good and the bad.

Seeing Rob leave (well, metaphorically, since I wasn't there of course) really hit home, as the last link to all the Catz years and of course a strong emotional tie to the place - there is really no denying now that we are grown up and done and moving on to whatever comes next.

And now Nick is leaving too, and it's like I'm leaving all over again, since so much of my current/more recent life is so tightly bound with his. And it's sad - it really was the last thread hanging - but it doesn't hurt, and that for me is a big achievement.

And of course I still care about the people who are in Oxf, and want to know the exciting things that happen to them, and want to be there to lend a friendly ear/shoulder when needed, but the fact that I won't necessarily know about everything that happens every day, the little things - I don't mind. That is what happens when you move away. It does not change the underlying strength of the friendship. My friends will always be my friends, wherever we are, and in whatever way we manage to communicate.

Oxford is a state of mind now: most of the people who made it what it has been for me have left too. I've had a year here to develop friendships and networks and interests and love for Princeton, and it's about time I started nurturing these rather than feeding off the past...

Caring and sharing

My faithful readers, such as they are, will have noticed that I have been silent for almost a month before the previous post. This was due to the joyful occasion of having my parents visit for three weeks here. Though we didn't go on any massive holidays, going away only at the weekend, it did somewhat cut into my 'random' time, especially because I was at work during the day, so I felt I had to spend proper time with them in the evening.

This is not the place to discuss in any detail how the three weeks went, though I will say that it wasn't as bad as I feared, and in fact a lot of fun was had at various points (yes, so there was a minor breakdown or two as well, but that was to be expected), and it even feels a little weird now that they are gone (not that I will be living on my own for very long......*grin grin grin*).

Instead of musing on the psychoticness or otherwise of my family relations, I shall dwell on more interesting (? well, more safe for public consumption at any rate!) episodes of the past three weeks. First and foremost: I drove on the motorway!!! Thrice!!! It had many lanes! And trucks that I overtook! And ramps to get onto and off of! And I was a little scared! But somehow - well, with my dad's direction in part - I did it, and nothing bad happened, and though I am not particularly interested in taking it up as a hobby, it's good to know that I can do it if necessary, and avoid wandering round minor roads all the time. Related to this is the acquisition of a GPS speaking thingy, I was torn about it since it seems a bit of a cop-out to me, but at the same time it is SO nice to drive about without having to deal with getting lost in the NJ countryside all the time, picturesque as it is - I feel I've had more than my share of that for a while....

I baked a couple of times while they were here and it was well-received, which is nice, given how competitive my dad and I are in the kitchen :-) I was even rewarded with an electric whisk to facilitate said baking, which, though not strictly necessary, is not unwelcome! (but I was in Williams and Sonoma at the weekend and could be found lovingly stroking what I really have my eye on [warning: awful flash], when the time is right...)

Also my dad decided that I really needed a pressure cooker, a thought which to be honest had never even entered my mind, but there you go. I now have one, and it is rather neat, and cooks things very fast, though it makes a very scary hissing noise while it does so, and there is a constant mild undertone of fear of explosions and scaldings to the cooking process, but never mind. I will get over it.

Still on the subject of food, I took my mom to see Julie & Julia which we rather enjoyed, especially the parts about Julia Child, and it confirmed my opinion that Meryl Streep is the bearer of much, much acting greatness.

This post seems to revolve around food a lot and those who know my family know it's the way in which we communicate best, so no surprises there :-) We also did a bit of travelling in nearby regions, but that will be the subhect of another post...

Stevie Gerrard and I have the same birthday

Though he is two years older.
And that, my friends, is the most important factoid to have emerged from my stay in Liverpool.

I jest, of course. But only just. :-)

No, really Liverpool was definitely the suprise destination of the year for me - I was going there for a conference, and it seemd like a good idea to stay an extra couple of days with Nick as a mini-break, but we weren't sure what we were going to find. Well, we found there is plenty to do, and in fact left a lot not-done, because there wasn't enough time!

Actually, the beginning of my stay there wasn't so great, because the conference accommodation (oh how I wish I didn't have to google the spelling of this word every time!) wasn't in a particularly pretty place, and the campus, while having nice Victorian buildings here and there, is also not in a particularly pretty place. But when you move more towards the centre, it all goes ex-industrial-waterfront-done-up just the way I like it, like Bristol or Southwark (though not quite as finished yet) and it's all very beautiful and a bit dramatic, especially when you look out towards the sound (assuming you are well braced against the wind!), and the old warehouses are all cleaned up, and it made me very happy.



To cut costs, and spare my stomach a bit, we had decided to rent a short stay apartment and slightly sold out and went with a big brand, the Staybridge Suites. It was another very pleasant surprise, so I want to give them a bit of a plug here. They were cheap. The room was biggish and comfortable, had a great kitchenette, free wifi, huge flatscreen tv, a view onto the water, and it came with breakfast, and wine/snacks happy hour on weekday afternoons. And it was only a few minutes' walk to where it was all happening. Including a Tesco where one could buy dinner ingredients. We felt very smug about our great plan and I would definitely pick them again, even if it would probably be more Guardian-reader-like to hunt down a private local landlord instead.

And with that out of the way...the two comments we probably uttered most often were 'Everything is so cheap in the north!' and 'Everyone is so nice in the north!' because, well, I think it is/they are! Prices seemed lower, and people friendlier, and more willing to engage in human contact even if they didn't know you - I liked that very much.

Also, there is just so much to do there, as I said! Much walking around the wharves (sp?) and gazing at the water, of course. And walking around the city centre watching Liverpudlians engage in what is clearly the municipal sport: competitive shopping, with added heels for the women (recession? what recession?)






And the museums! A nice little Tate outpost, with changing exhibitions (we saw one on colour, very jolly); the Beatles Story of course, which we went to despite ourselves, and enjoyed it; the Walker Art Gallery, which is like the National Gallery in quality but smaller, and so less overwhelming (and had live jazz playing!) and more pleasing; and the 'World Museum', which would probably be more fun for children, as it tries to cram in loads of things about history and natural history and world cultures and Lord knows what else - though one should never turn down a good dinosaur. And we had to pass on the Maritime Museum, and the Slavery Museum, and a few more besides probably.

Not satisfied, we also had a little outing to Chester, because of the Romanness of it (I, for one, had been hearing of it for years and years and years in relation to the fact that the Romans left a legacy of place names in Britain and the standard example is Chester, from castrum, etc etc etc).



At first, said Romanness is quite underwhelming: there is a barely noticeable amphitheatre, only partially dug out, with a very sad looking guide dressed like a centurion (or was he a gladiator? can't remember) giving tours to schoolkids. But then we went to the local museum (Grosvenor Museum), which was, well, small and perfectly formed. At least as regards the Roman section, which is the only bit we saw. It had a good amount of stuff, and really good explanations, and hands-on things (I now understand how abacuses work!!), and even a thick file giving loads of further information about Roman culture and history and how to read inscriptions and even bibliography for those interested - really nice.

Apart from that, it's a cute town generally, a typical English cathedral town, with city walls that go all around and that you can walk on quite easily. Sadly I didn't run into any wags, though. All in all, I'd definitely go back to either, or both, places.

As a coda, it was interesting for to attend this conference on the Liverpool Uni campus, as it was a chance to see how the other half, or more like the other 90%, lives when they go to uni - there is an enormous Student Union building which I guess is where every other university student apart from Tabs hang out - with a bar and a cafe/social area and tvs and a little shop with useful things and some other large socialising room and useful services like ticket sales and career services and the like, all under one roof...I wonder if I would have liked it more or less. Maybe in that kind of setup it's a lot easier to meet loads of people and eventually find a bunch that you like, but maybe also easier to disappear if you want, slip through the cracks, and not be coaxed into any kind of sociability? Which isn't necessarily a good thing. I will never know if I 'did' university the 'right' way or not...

Curioser and curioser

I have seen the future...and it is scarily, scarily, middle class. Maybe even upper m.c. I have just got back, walking down my lovely street and feeling rather suburban, with bunnies in the yards, and fireflies fluttering (do they flutter? hover? anyway.) about, and all very pretty. I have spent a few hours of the late afternoon at a neighbour's house, since she had invited people on the street for a potluck dinner at her place, and since I am still trying to get to know people, I thought I'd go.

And this is where the scary UMC-ness comes in. Now, most of you know that I really like giving dinner parties, and gathering people I like around food I like (though I really ought to do it more). In fact, cooking for friends is one of the things that makes me happiest, and one of the greatest pleasures of being mistress of one's entire house/apartment. And I know that as I get older, it will be a more frequent occurrence. But this thing tonight...with people of varying ages, all older than me, all so terribly proper - the architect, the retired physicist, the psychiatrist, the woman who will do x-rays of incredibly rare 15th century Celtich harps - discussing house prices, and schools, and insurance policies, and holidays in the south of France (yes, it appears that even from here, it's the done thing for sensible middle class liberals) - it was like the Ghost of Dinner Party Future, and it was almost enough to make me not want to host another dinner party, ever.

I thought I had finally come round to the idea of being A Real Grown-up, but I guess not...


Moving swiftly on....

Among the various bits of neighbourhood gossip, and who is moving where when and having what children, I acquired the knowledge that Toni Morrison lives in the neighbourhood, which is kinda cool. I shall keep an eye out for her now.

Up next: some reflections on Liverpool.

Two weeks later...

...I'm still trying to catch my breath, but alas, I seem to be getting more and more exhausted, so much that on Sunday night I actually wimped out and went to bed at half ten! Oh, the days of all-nighters (well, the nights of all-nighters I suppose) are so, so far away...

Also I am about to set off again for Europe, so this post will be rather bitty and wimpy, just like me I guess...

Things that have been keeping me busy include blueberry picking (yum!), rather successful attempts at baking (muffins! yum yum), doing a large amount of driving to pick up V whom I saw again over Independence Day weekend - 70 miles each way! And I didn't get lost or get myself into any trouble! It was very pleasing. We also tried to go to the shore, or rather, we got there (Belmar) and, cartoon-like, as soon as we had paid for parking, it started thundering....and never stopped, so we gave up. Sniffle.

Also I had my first American 4th of July - we went to a big open area where they were doing fireworks, which weren't bad, but a bit scary in that they were waaay too close to where people were sitting, and bits of spent firework and ash kept falling on us. Hm. All in all, it was fun, and less oppressively patriotic than I feared.

Also making the most of the NJ summer (it's lovely and hot here) and the fact that everyone I know except me lives in proper houses which have bbqs and sometimes even swimming pools :-) Summer is definitely the time to be here...

Off I go to finish packing!

[actually I have been doing a lot of thinking and introspection, about this displacement thing, which I really need to get round to writing about sooner rather than later...]

And after that...

...the fun never stops!

[here is the promised diaristic post]

Seriously, I don't think I've had time to catch my breath since, oh I don't know, the end of May. Ok, I know that sometimes in the past I have been known to complain about not having anything to do and being lonely, but surely there must be a happy medium somewhere!

From Ann Arbor, I went straight to a small town in NJ where my very good friend V was staying. I hadn't seen her in six years due to various geographical mismatches, and her penchant for being in very random and dangerous corners of the world, so it was amazing to see her again, and surreal that it was in small-town suburban NJ! We had a lovely, if brief, 24 hrs there where we basically just talked the whole time, sparing just a few hours to sleep, and tried to catch up on everything from the past few years. It made me very happy. I then boarded a random coach that got me to Philly, where I crashed on a kind friend's sofa and dragged myself out of the house at the crack of dawn (well, almost) to bag a ride back here with one of the bosses at work. Needless to say, a little exhausted.

There followed a week notable mostly because of the incessant, depressing, rain/thunder/lightning weather, and my attempts to work hard, which were in the main successful. And at the end of that week, I welcomed my second proper-guest-who-is-not-Nick, a friend from undergrad whom I hadn't seen properly in ages. He was here until this gone Monday.

It was actually really really good to have him visit (and no, I'm just saying this because you're reading it! :-P ) - weird how you can not really see someone for years, and then just click back into your old comfortable ways when you meet up again. It's like something V had said the week before - sometimes it doesn't really matter if you can't keep up with the day-to-day stuff, as long as what's really important, the deep connection and affection, is still there. And indeed, we spent an awful lot of time talking away, about all things big and small, and a not insignficant amount of my questioning him about his work - partly because I think it is one of the most awesome jobs ever, and partly because I realised, much to my shame, that I don't actually know that many people who are not employed in academia in some way...

So, in between going to work most days, we managed to fit in quite a few fun things, photographic evidence of which will probably be on Flickr and/or FB soon:

- we randomly encountered a regatta at the lake near my house, which was a bit like being down by the river in Eights week, except the average age was rather older (note: there is a point in life after which it is not, repeat, not acceptable to wear lycra), and there was no Pimms

- I finally went for a walk along the canal towpath, which is indeed very beautiful, and only a few minutes outside Princeton! Among other things, we encountered some cool turtles, as you can see (photos nicked from Chris):



- we tried to rock the Princeton nightlife, but really I should've known that would only lead to bitter disappointment

- The shore! The beach! (as I said in the previous post) As well as sunbathing, we also had a fun time playing shooting videogames, though the gun thingy was awfully heavy and I'm sure it cramped my style. Our fun was a little marred by the fact that it started thundering as we were wanting to head back, and we didn't actually leave the parking lot for a good 20/30 minutes - in the end Chris realised that I would never have the courage to drive in the dark+rain+thunder and very kindly took charge of the situation. Given that suicidal fireflies also got added to the mix, it was very nice of him to do so...

- and on Saturday...a Warriors-inspired pilgrimage to Coney Island!! Well, Chris wanted to go because of The Warriors, and I am always up for boardwalk tat, so...it was incredibly good fun, first we stopped off at Brighton Beach, which I remarked felt like being in Odessa - not knowing that it is indeed often called Little Odessa, because it is home to a large Russian-and-other-ex-Soviet-countries population. It was pretty amazing - all the signage in Cyrillic, plenty of elderly ladies sitting outside on the pavement chattering away, and I swear that both there and Coney Island I barely heard a word of English spoken all day. Coney Island was just the right mix of elegiac and dilapidated and tat and brilliant - we walked up and down the boardwalk lots, played a lot more shooting videogames (House of Dead rulz), Chris went on the Wonder Wheel (I felt queasy just looking at it, I admit my wimpiness), I tried to get more tanned, and we generally just took in the atmosphere, the randomness of the people, and tried to channel the Warriors, though I think it was a little less dingy now than 30 years ago. Maybe. I can't quite do it justice - hopefully the photos will help a little.



Needless to say, Sunday we were shattered (and hungover, and a little sunburnt, and possibly also food-poisoned), and then Monday the visit was over - but we definitely hit a high point with our beach goings!

Now a week of frantic work is going on, though it's one day short since we have Friday off for Independence Day - I am going to be brave and drive 70 miles and hopefully not get lost to pick V up and hang around with her at the weekend. And then another busy work week, during which I am giving a talk at work that I am freaking out about not insignificantly, and then probably a day or two in NYC, and then....England! Hurrah.

Right. That is all I think. Thanks for making it this far!

Thalassa, thalassa

And to think that the answer to my problems was there all along, just 40 miles away: on Friday after work Chris and I drove to the famed (infamous?) Jersey shore, as I had been craving beach and sea and sunbathing since, I don't know, April or something. And as I was lying there in the sun (pretty hot despite it being gone 5pm!), listening to the impressive Atlantic waves, it all just....came together. I was happy, I was caaaalm, relaxed, blissed out - all the stress of the past week, and even more of the past few months went 'puff' and disappeared somehow, or at least, it didn't matter any more. Maybe I should have thought of going there earlier in the year? It was a great feeling, and I want to try and hang on to it for as long as possible.

[A more diaristic post will follow shortly.]

Testing the waters

After Nick left, I headed over to Ann Arbor for my first conference presentation on something that isn't prepositions - a weird feeling! I was flying to Detroit (in a tiny tiny airplane - like the ones they use in remote Norway, except this is a Newark-Detroit flight, not a random rural service, wtf?!), and Detroit airport was a bit of a sad sight - it's a really cool building, architecturally (though there is a creeeepy passageway with changing lights and darkness and matching music which is just WEIRD) - but you can tell that it's aimed at a particular kind of business traveller, who may not be coming that way for much longer....a lot of the announcements are also in languages which I took to be Chinese and either Japanese or Korean; among the shops is one for golf type things; and also souvenir stores such as "The Henry Ford Shop" and "The GM Shop". It was all very poignant.

Not that Ann Arbor seems to notice any of these problems - it felt not unlike being in Princeton - small university town, somewhat low on diversity, lack of sensible stores and lots of antique and vintage shops instead (very nice ones though, I must say - and amazing second hand bookshops!). Overall, I was rather taken with both the town and the campus (which are fairly interchangeable anyway) - it felt like it had its own character, especially in the range of non-homogeneized shops, and like it would be fun to be a student there - it was a bit hard to get a good sense of what it's like in full swing as it was out of term time. The university seems to favour a building style that looks a bit like the bastard child of Keble and the Parthenon - lots of red brick and columns, as you can see.




And of course, no respectable university is complete without a quad which channels Oxbridge/the Ivy League, as in the one below, which is, perhaps unsurprisingly, the Law Quad.



I also managed to fit in a short tour of two museums there, the Natural History Museum which was full of rather endearing, retro dioramas, and the Art Museum which had, among other things, a spendlid array of furnishings and decorations made by Tiffany for a house originally in NYC - cf the photo below, apologies for the slight fuzziness. It's always nice to be surprised by wonderful objects where you're not quite expecting them!



But as I said, I was there for a conference, and the title of the post refers to the fact that I was basically dipping my toes into what is a new discipline for me - I've been interested in it for a while, but always as an external observer, never as an active participant. I'm going to be a bit vague here because it is after all a public forum, but a few random impressions of my first humanities conference follow. So many women! So few men! [insert my oft-repeated rant about the gender imbalance in my discipline - it's not like you haven't heard it before...] Scene that you would never see at an NLP conference: the keynote speaker arranging her pearls in the mirror so they wouldn't tangle with her name tag and she would look good for her talk; said keynote speaker, and others too, displaying a rather high degree of glamour, such as Prada handbags, and pashminas which matched the trim of their coats. (Not sure what it says about ME that I noticed these things....)

Also the average age was a bit higher than I expected, there were grad students there, but not as many - which perhaps didn't help with the socialising, which was a bit difficult anyway. I stood out a bit, perhaps for the wrong reasons, such as my reluctance to engage in any of the dense jargon being bandied about, and the fact that I didn't have a handout, and my slight disbelief at the content of some of the presentations (be it because of the amount of data used, or the quality of it), but hey...I guess a new field is always hard to break into especially if one just turns up uninvited and unintroduced, so I am not too upset about it. Maybe a little disillusioned, as I always thought this topic was a lot of fun, and now I'm not so sure anymore...

New York Times II

Needless to say, my cousin's wedding was spectacular and perfect in every detail - the only thing that one could have complained about was not in her control, and that was the weather: it rained a lot, all day. After a hectic morning on a wild goose chase for a suitable pashmina for my outfit (I know one ought to avoid them if at all possible, but I am now realising that they are actually rather useful objects...), which culminated in three very sodden people trying to feel better by eating hot soup in a hotel room, we regained our composure(s) to put on our finery and head over to the church. Not that this was straightforward: it involved us getting to my uncle's flat (in the rain), gathering a host of relations from various corners of the city, making sure everyone had shelter from the rain, realising at almost-the-last-minute that I had left my 3inch heels (yes, I'm crazy, I know) at the hotel (thanks Nick...), trying to discover if anyone had the keys to the flat...eventually we piled into a sort of limo/SUV hybrid and made our way downtown, after some discussion with the driver as to where exactly we were going.

The reception was lovely, the food was really good, the speeches absolutely tear jerking, the dancing fun (if perhaps not quite as plentiful as I would have expected), the drinking more than satisfactory: in short, it was all good, and we went back in limo again, too.
[more details available upon request!]

The next day was one of debriefing and hangovers - it was nice to spend a bit more time with the family in now more relaxed mode, with this huge thing that had been sucking up their energy finally out of the way. We'd only been in the city three days, but we certainly felt all our energies were drained! Sadly I don't have any photos to show - both the church and the venue were rather dark so I didn't take any pictures, I'm waiting for some nice ones to turn up somewhere!

New York Times I

So on Wednesday we set off for 'the city', discovering the profound truth of just how hard it is to find parking at P. Junction on a workday, and cursing the rain somewhat. After being upgraded to an enormous room, which atoned a little for the horrors of the rain, we set off for the first much anticipated event of the week: an 'event' with Amanda Palmer and Neil Gaiman at Housing Works Bookshop in SoHo. As an aside, I will note that it is a beautiful bookshop in a beautiful building, with extremely high quality second hand books which made the Oxfam volunteer in me green with envy (I had originally written puce, because it sounded nice, but then discovered that it is not a shade of green at all. Sad.). And that there were a LOT of women. Almost all women, in fact.

The general idea of the event was that Neil Gaiman would read bits from what he's written for this book, and Amanda Palmer would play some songs, and they would do some Q&A, and it would all be nice. And it was nice! He reads really well, and she is awesome and looked beautiful rather than deranged (and sadly quite clothed, unlike, say, her performance at Coachella [youtube link]). Sadly she didn't play many songs because a long, long time was spent on auctioning a signed copy of the book - yes it was for a good cause, but it did drag only slightly too mcuh and it would have been good to hear a few more songs, since we couldn't go to the actual gig later in the week.

Anyway, when she plays she gets really intense, aggressive almost towards the piano, like she wants to climb on it or something - and her voice is amazing. Maybe in that respect it was nicer to see her in a more intimate setting with less tech stuff in the way (I can't really say unplugged because it was an electric keyboard...but the ukelele was definitely unplugged!) as it gave us a better chance to appreciate her voice. All in all, it was a great night, the Q&A was lots of fun too though right this moment I can't remember any instances which stand out particularly :-(

Thursday was very much a family day - my great aunt (the one who turned 90 in March) and my aunt (x Fulvia: la sorella di mio padre...) had flown over for my cousin's wedding, so I spent most of the day with them as I don't know when the next time I fly home will be. Then there was the wedding rehearsal which wasn't quite what I expected - I had, perhaps naively, thought it would be something like a dry run or dress rehearsal of a show, instead it was very bitty and I'm not sure it actually left us much wiser than before. We then headed here for the dinner. It is a Persian restaurant, and I am including a link to it because it was very good. There were also speeches, which were sweet and emotional.

And then, the next day was the wedding - but we will leave that for another post...

Princeton Times II

(Part I is here)

Because of course we hadn't had enough fun and games and American-type things on Saturday, the next day - after brunch with a friend, and a somewhat eventful drive to Trenton - we went to watch a baseball game at the Trenton Thunder home ground. A bunch of Girl Scouts were going, and it was cheap, and seemed like a fun thing to do. It was also a beautiful day, which helped. I had vague memories of baseball from my childhood, and was surprised to see that the pitch (well, the diamond really) seemed to be a lot smaller than I remembered. This being a 'family day', there were a lot of corny little things going on in between moments of play, where local businesses sponsored prizes for fun-fair type games - very cute - and even one or two exciting moments in the game itself.

Oh, and for the record, apparently my driving isn't so bad, and it definitely helped to have someone act as navigator and telling me where to turn: it greatly cuts down my getting lost, and I am now seriously wondering whether I should invest in a GPS talking thingy, because it made me feel so relaxed to not have to worry about getting lost!

What else...oh yes, we had some of my friends over for dinner, and inspired by the no-meat requirements of a couple of them, I decided to go all Southern Italian and cook various kinds of vegetables antipasto/contorno style: zucchine alla scapece (fried courgette marinated in vinegar and mint), melanzane a funghetti (fried aubergine with tomato), peperoni arrostiti (marinated roasted peppers), to be eaten with nice bread, followed by a radicchio risotto (not Southern Italian, I know, but still very yummy), and doused with excellent local micro-brewery ales (yes, nice ale over here too!). I was very pleased with our efforts, especially since I hadn't tried many of these recipes before, and it's always good to be reminded that one can rustle up a perfectly nice dinner without using any meat.



The rest of the week was spent in NYC, but that is matter for another post....

Princeton Times I

Argh, I have so much to recount, and am so behind, and have been so busy...so I apologise in advance for the potential lengthiness of the next few posts, and/or the fact that they might appear in quick succession.

So. Where do I start? Last time I blogged, I was expecting Nick's visit, which has now sadly come and gone. But it was very fun, and very busy, and tinged with great Americana experiences...

The weekend of my birthday coincided with the Princeton Alumni Weekend. Unlike our Oxford gaudies, which have only a few years' worth of alumni turning up, this is an annual event that alumni from ALL years flock to - with special focus on those celebrating anniversaries (if that is even the right word) that are multiples of 5. So these masses of Ivy League elements descend upon the town, and each year (where year here is year of graduation rather than matriculation - why can't they all be like us I don't know) has a distinctive jacket/blazer type object which of course has to be orange and black, and possibly also incorporate a tiger. Much as I love the colour orange, and am guilty of its overuse in various aspects of fashion in the past, this is often rather vile even for my taste. But you get tons of then swarming about, wearing name tags, high-fiveing and hugging each other in various Princeton landmarks such as cafes and sandwich shops.

But the best is yet to come! In the afternoon, said jacketed alumni appear in the P-rade (get it? 'P'-rade? for 'P'rinceton? Hoho. So witty.) : each year marches down through campus, culminating in the class of the current year, and with the multiples-of-5s having a bigger float/band/similar. Oh.My.God. What a show. Full photographic evidence and commentary is available on an album at my Facebook page - be warned, there are over 80 photos, and we left in 1986 as we'd been there two hours and weren't sure we couldn't take any more!

This is just a small example of what we could see

Many thoughts arise from this event, above and beyond the inevitable comments of the effect of lots of black and orange patterns on the eye. In no particular order -

* the oldest alumnus was from 1925. 1925!! He was adorable. And rode in a golf cart. There were quite a few from the 30s, actually - mostly in golf carts, but some stoically walking with the golf cart following them anxiously - for the most part rather spry and lively. Very admirable.

* by far the most touching group was 1944, where a placard informed us that 89% of that class had served in WWII. And not all of them had returned - their family members were marching in their place, carrying signs telling us in what battle they had lost their life. It was very sad, and sort of made it hit home for us Europeans, seeing the names of familiar English or Italian places on the signs. I guess we forget that there was a time when US interventionism was really a rather good thing, and that despite the best efforts of one's partisan grandfathers, we probablly really needed the American helping hand (I simplify wildly obviously, but this was more or less the bottom line of my thinking). Also, it reminded us that the war started affecting the US a lot later than Europe, which one tends to forget - we were looking at the 40s groups wondering when the war would make an appearance, and were momentarily surprised when it took so long.

* on a lighter note, it was incredible to see the extent to which these grown men and women were willing to look ridiculous, from wearing tails to dressing like Barbie and all things in between. Really this goes hand in hand with the general degree of wild passion that the alumni clearly feel towards their old university - and this is what really got me. I had a great time in my college and I love Oxford and I am grateful for all the amazing opportunities it has given me. But I don't know if I love it to the extent that I would march in a parade 40 years later, wearing tiger ears or tails. And make all my children march with me, looking equally silly. More than one person has told me that Princeton is particularly renowned for having such adoring alumni. Obviously I can't really say what the reason is, not knowing what goes on behind the gilded doors (actually this is a bit harsh - the University is very good at sharing its events and resources with the general public), but clearly there is something very powerful at work there.

* and of course this feeds into a more important issue, namely that of alumni donations: clearly having such large and passionate alumni ensures that your endowment stays healthy, and explains why so many of the facilities are so spiffy. Oxford doesn't stand a chance to even match a fraction of American-style fundraising if it can't master the same kind of enthusiasm in us. And frankly, as long as my college's telethoners call me and say, upon me telling them that it isn't a good time to talk, "Great! Let's chat for a few minutes", my enthusiasm will remain rather lukewarm. They (the Princetonians, not Oxford) seem to have turned even donations into a competitive activity: many of the years marching had placards noting how much they had donated that year, that decade, since their existence, etc etc, with the clear intent of coming out top.

The day's events were concluded by a firework display set to music - it sounds cheesy but actually it worked really well, different kinds and colours of fireworks going off in time to the music - I am used to nice fireworks displays in Italy, but this was pretty amazing too.

And so endeth the first part. For more adventures, read here...

A week into the new era

Due to an impending visit of Nick's, and a mass of events of all sorts related to this visit, I figure I won't have much time to write in the next week or two so this is a passing hello...so, I've been driving myself around for a week now, and can I just say IT FEELS AMAZING! Yes, the first half of the week I was pretty terrified, and gripped the wheel almost to the point of painfulness; and I still get terribly lost, and frustrated when I do (though increasingly less so); and I stress about people behind me, and irritating them, and getting honked at.

But overall...it makes me so happy! Especially when there is noone behind me, and something soothing is playing on the radio, and I end up driving around the countryside semi-randomly, in the sunshine - dare I say it, it's rather enjoyable. And I hadn't realised quite how much not being independent depressed me. Now I sleep better, wake up not feeling like a zombie, do not have to spend half my working day trying to stay awake, and most importantly I am the one in charge of my work hours - I don't have to arrange everything so as to have to leave at a certain time, I can go with the flow, stay as late as I like - and this means I'm more relaxed, and I work better.

AND I was able to go to the Amish market (very cool), and do things with Sarah after work without making anyone go out of their way to take me home, and I went to a proper supermarket yesterday (though I got very overwhelmed by the bigness of it all, and it's hard to shake off years and years of 'buy just what you need', so I didn't quite stock up on stuff as I might have done), and to buy shoes, and to TK Maxx, and all without being really beholden to anyone. I know I keep saying it, but it's really a strange, good feeling - like now I feel more unconstrained, more myself, I can't quite explain it. But it's A Good Thing.

I probably wouldn't be quite so exultant if I lived in a big city, or a place with proper public transport, but since I don't...to finish on a topical note, here is the link to photos of the Memorial Day Parade that was held on Saturday.

A new era

I was going blog the other day; I went as far as writing the post, and even revising it, but after a few hours I changed my mind. It was a very depressed/depressive, whingeing post in which I complained about a variety of objectively rather minor issues with great enojoyance of the wallowing in self-pity. I'm glad I didn't - although it is true that there were little things that were getting me down, and I was feeling rather emotionally drained for a variety of reasons, I need to stick with my intention of keeping this a cheerful blog, and also apply some non-Italian reserve and avoid airing my dirty laundry in public.

ANYway, the title of the post refers to a Very, Very Important Event that has occurred in the intervening time between the last post and now: I have a car! I can drive it! AND as of tomorrow I will be driving myself to work! It's crazy how everything has happened in the space of a week - I bought it last Saturday having contacted the seller only the afternoon of the Friday; I got the paperwork sorted early in the week; had my last 4 hours of lessons; and now it's all go!

Actually, it wasn't quite so breezy as that - my second driving lesson was a bit dispiriting, as the instructor had to keep telling me to be more confident on turns, be faster, not upset the flow of traffic, and generally be a bit more aggressive and trusting in myself. So I left that lesson feeling that all the skill in parking and easing out of my crazy driveway was useless if I never had the balls to drive properly.

Everyone was very comforting and pointed out that I had only been driving for 4 hours and I couldn't expect perfection straight away, but of course that didn't prevent me from developing all sorts of panic and stress two hours before my lesson today. But! The instructor immediately boosted my confidence by suggesting that we drive in my car instead of his --> i.e. with no double pedals! That alone made me feel a lot better about my driving, and though it was still by no means perfect, he thinks I'm ok to drive myself to work...so by the time you will have read this, I will have done my first solo commute!

I still can't quite believe this is happening - that I have a car, and that I can be in control of my life, and my schedule, and be FREE to go to people's houses, go to the mall, go to whatever supermarket I want, and all the hallmarks of a normal Princetonian life that I have had to miss out on until now. It's just so so exciting. That, combined with the steadily lovely weather, and the upcoming visits from various people (and one just past - I saw Laura last week!), and the fact that I am managing to stick to my plan to cook delicious meals even if just for myself, makes me really rather happy.

Sure, things aren't perfect - among the things that were disgruntling me this week were a bad meeting with the Scouts, where I was solely in charge and was wholly incapable of exerting any discipline on the girls (but I've since rationalised that, and thought of so many ways to make it better), and the fact that work is sort of slumpy at the moment and failing to engage me emotionally - but I try not to dwell on that (with a little help from my friends). Sometimes I do worry that I'm turning into a strange cross betweeen Pollyanna and a fortune cookie, with all this zen positive thinking, and it still doesn't come quite naturally to me, but who knows, maybe by the end this will be another skill to add to the list of those acquired during this US life...