Having finished my first assignment, I granted myself a "break" day--napping, journaling, and hanging out with a particular group I'm determined to integrate myself into. Mostly I just sat around while they started their research for the next case study already, and discouraged, yet still unmotivated, I meandered up to bed.
*original title from recordrecord
It was crunch time, so I devoted the entirety of my day to finishing research and constructing arguments and being scholarly. Half way through the day, desirous of a change in environment, my roommates and I set off in search of a coffee shop, only to find out that the few around close extremely early, so we ended up at a pub, with beer and chips, and worked furiously (freely) on our research. Once I hit 1200 words (of the 2250), I walked back home feeling confident that I was halfway there--but alas, I still didn't finish until 5 am.... I need to break this habit quickly.
I hardly got any work done on my case study, because all day I was anticipating a skype-date reunion with Dan, Meredith, Chris, and Nate. At 5 pm Oxford time, 6 pm Paris time, 12 pm Canton time, and 11 am Chicago time (and actually 9 am LA time for Steve...who chose to sleep in rather than join us, though he was included in the planning...), we convened on the interwebs to talk and laugh and rejoice. After almost two hours, I left the conversation to walk to Crick and watch The Remains of the Day and eat sweet meats.
I was trying to remember every experience of walking home from the library, burning it into my mind, getting ready to write and share and remember the entirety of these English streets, and while lost in thoughts I was approached and propositioned by a creepy, fifty-ish, toothless, English man. While I'm sure taking a ride on this man's bike up Headington Hill would have been an interesting experience, I declined the offer, and eventually had to dart through the park in order to avoid another awkward interaction with the now waiting for me, staring at me man. Just as I rounded the street home, a group of housemates invited me to a bbq at a real English person's house, and how could I do anything but accept the offer to integrate with real natives?!
skyped with friends. avoided writing my case study on Queen Boudicca.
We had our first food group meal. Our junior deans made lasagna, and during dinner as we shared random stories, and I was continually interrupted and corrected, I just had to think, "Man, I'm glad I'm not that girl."
I was invited to have tea (which turned into beer, because even though we have tea all the time, we don't actually know where to go to be served tea, but pubs are everywhere) with a girl from Crick road after a hard-core study session at the Bodleian. We walked to get Oxford school supplies, a Cornwall Pasty, mail, and then I walked over to her house with her. I spent about a half hour in their kitchen, longing for the close knit community they've already built (aided no doubt by their lessened numbers and more confined living space), before I had to head home before the park closed (which shortens my walk to one of 35ish minutes, instead of the 50 it would take the long way 'round). I'm trying very hard to convince myself of the benefits of living at The Vines...
