Misadventures.

So, when I said I'd been living under a rock for the past few weeks, I wasn't exactly telling the truth. I've had a think about it and actually, in between the essay writing and the nocturnal sleeping pattern I've really been very busy. I will expand:

WEEK ONE: I forewent the W.I. Crafts Evening in the end, because I was coughing like I don't know what - a 19th century courtesan, perhaps? Metaphor regardless I was pretty disappointed about missing out, as the lady in question wrote the very book I gave Charlotte for her birthday. O well. On the Thursday my mum came to London and we had a day of early early Christmas shopping. We had cupcakes at the Primrose Bakery (and a box or two to take away) and spent an awful lot of money in the Covent Garden Cath Kidston shop. I now have tins and oven gloves to add to my ever-expanding collection of pretty kitchenware. We ate dinner at Bella Italia and then there was a long goodbye on a Euston platform (Christmas! Christmas!) On the Friday Charlotte and David paid a quick visit following a concert in Islington. We had a major lie-in and lunch in Greenwich, but missed out on any market time. The next day however, I went back to Greenwich with my housemates+ and did the stalls some justice. We bought sweets from Mr Humbug (fudge for me, excruciatingly sour sour balls for Gabby) and I bought the most amazing sock monkey hat. His name is Julius and I love him:


We went to Wetherspoons for lunch and then to Cineworld for the Ultimate Cinema Marathon. We watched the Men Who Stare at Goats, followed by An Education. Then, as mentioned Doctor Who ♥.

WEEK TWO: Not much this week. I went to see Michael McIntyre on the Tuesday with Gabby. We did skipping through North Greenwich tube station. The website said 18:30, the tickets said 20:00. We didn't collect the tickets until we arrived, therefore we were an hour and a half early. Cheesy chips were go :) This year he was performing in the O2 arena, as opposed to the smaller Indigo2. My seat was way way way up in 'the Gods' and I was on my own (poor Gabby was even further away), but still he managed to make me laugh like woah. My favourite bit by far = the men's changing room story.

WEEK THREE: Hannah came to stay :) I met her at St. Pancras and we went to Platform 9¾ to make wonderful wizard poses. There was a lady who took photos of us jumping at the wall (still waiting on that one, though). Later we went to Canary Wharf in search of Nando's, which took a good HALF HOUR. Damn street maps and underground passageways, delaying the humus and chickeny goodness. Afterwards we went to the cinema for MY FIRST EVER TWILIGHT EXPERIENCE. O chortle. There are only a handful of things I wish to comment on, I don't want to evoke any twi-wrath with my newbie observations. BUT, a) Bella Swan needs a good slapping. b) the solitary man in the row in front + suspicious trouser friction = ew. c) the audience reaction when Jacob first removes his top was h-y-s-t-e-r-i-c-a-l. Every school girl and her mum was in a flutter and for a good five minutes too. Hilarious. And finally d) I heard the rumours, yet I couldn't bring myself to believe it true. Edward sparkles. Deary me. The next morning we went Christmas shopping in Covent Garden. This involved Paperchase and Cath Kidston and Urban Outfitters and cupcakes at Primrose Bakery (again :)) and small pink frying pans with heart indentations. Later we went to Shoreditch in search of Cargo, the magical photo booth emporium. It was dark and cold and our directions consisted of a few red squiggles on the back of an old receipt, but the end result was well worth the hopelessly ill-informed walk (and the £24 we spent between us, oops.)


These are Hannah's scans. I'll add mine when I finally upload them. The back-to-the-camera shots were a bad idea though. We finished Hannah's visit with a trip to Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. There were bright lights and fairground rides and candy floss and corn-on-the-cob and a singing moose, followed by krispy kremes and the Young Victoria. Fantastico.

Hey Sports-fans!

I had a lovely family weekend. After a very slow start I made it to Oxford on Friday evening. Unfortunately the bus was delayed and diverted, but there was time for Chinese take-away and a quick catch up before bed. In the morning I went to the Ashmolean museum with my dad. We had the pleasure of viewing the 'Johnny's' and also work by Pissarro, Turner and Sickert. My favourite piece involved two dogs and a windmill, but I cannot find it on the Internet for love nor money. After lunch we drove into London. We unpacked at my house and went in search of food, settling for Burger King and jacket potatoes at Surrey Quays shopping centre. We hopped aboard the 188 at Canada Water and after a tense rush-hour journey we made it to the O2 in time to catch the opening minutes of the ATP World Tour.

Now let it be said here and now that I am the odd one out in this situation. When it comes to sport my family vote yay and I - generally - vote nay. But given the opportunity I will say yes to tennis match tickets. If only for the slight chance of watching Roger Federer. Which I did not. Instead we saw the Sodderling vs. del Potro semi final and I had a lot of fun cheering Team Robin, bemoaning tennis points I didn't understand and searching for celebrities in the commentator's box ("I think it's Tim? It is! No wait, it isn't.") At one point somebody in the crowd yelled, "DO IT FOR ABBA!" Unfortunately, Team Robin lost in the final set (is that the right terminology? I don't know) but it was pretty amazing all the same. Afterwards, we went back to SE8 and squished four people into my room :) The next day we did an EPIC Tescos shop (so much nice food, krispy kremes and an electric blanket) and my dad cooked the biggest Sunday brunch. We did various jobs about the house (reattaching curtains and the like), then we went to Greenwich for an hour of market time. They have just left now and I miss them already. Two weeks ♥.

Fangsgiving.

Tonight I celebrated my first Thanksgiving at no. 54 Vesta Road. Delicious food + lovely company = ♥. We ate chicken and corn bread and veggies and gravy, and the culinary highlight was sweet potato topped off with marshmallow :) There were 2x pumpkin pies, Rachel made an amazing pumpkin cake and I was very thankful for said delicious food and lovely company, and the fact our boiler is finally on the mend :)

AWOL.

Hello there little blog. Sorry about the prolonged absence, how are you? Where have I been, you might ask? What have I been up to? Well then, I shall tell you. These past few weeks I have been living somewhat undercover on a diet of cough syrup and chocolate spread sandwiches, William Shakespeare and Alfred, Lord Tennyson (also known as: books I have read but not digested) and How I Met Your Mother reruns on 4od (Barney♥). I have spent far too many late nights/early mornings at the kitchen table, poring over Macbeth with tired eyes and ringing in the changes (read: distracting myself) with useless facebook games and blogs and furtive trips to Tesco and pretty pictures on tumblr. And Harry Potter the Musical. Oh. My. Life.

Life on Mars.

I am a total Doctor Who geek. Tonight we raced back from the cinema to watch the Waters of Mars on iplayer. The screen was tiny, there were water-spurting monsters aplenty and David Tennant (♥) went a little stir-crazy towards the end, but it was totally worth it and much fangirl enthusiasm ensued. I can't absolutely can wait until Christmas and this:

Don't go David Tennant, don't go. It's you over Matt Smith's silly square face, any day of the week. Oh, there will be serious tears when the Doctor regenerates.

Sick days.

Magical things to take my mind off it.


Today I feel like yuck. Full-on, going back to bed half way through my morning shower and missing university yuck. I had a very strange potentially-fever-induced dream, which involved a big house by the sea and a lot of cocker spaniels. All I want to do today is watch old films from the centre of my duvet cocoon and look at pretty pictures and get excited about Christmas. I want somebody to tuck me up and read me a story. But instead I have essay deadlines and critical commentaries to write. My mum rang me up before and said she'd pay for my train ticket home and I want to say yes more than anything in the world. I just know I need to be making an effort and writing lots of uninspired poetry right now. I can't decide what to do; I think I'll make some soup instead.

Edit
I didn't go. Didn't make any soup for that matter.
Never worry though. I have plenty of nice things to look forward to in the very near future and beyond, including
* W.I. Christmas Crafts
* Early Christmas shopping with my mum
* Charlotte and David to stay
* Doctor Who on Sunday ♥
* Michael McIntyre with Hannah
:)

Oxford Ode.

The effects of film and television are incredible. This year I watched and loved the Desperate Romantics as much as the next person; now I jump at the chance to visit art galleries and gaze at red-headed Rossetti's and holy Holman-Hunt's. And I'm not the only one. On Sunday I went to the newly reopened Ashmolean museum in Oxford with my auntie and her boyfriend. I was standing in a corner and examining one pre-Raphaelite piece or another, when a middle aged lady raced up to the painting next to mine. In a state of great excitement she beckoned to her male companion and motioning to the piece in front of her she called, "Darling, darling come over here. I've found a Johnny!" Millais was my favourite too, but there again perhaps I just like the work of Samuel Barnett.


Likewise, we went to see Bright Star on Sunday too. Now, only two-hundred years too late, I'm hopping aboard the John Keats bandwagon. I left the cinema with great intentions - I would buy a book of poetry, visit the house in Hampstead, perhaps I'd even go to Rome and visit his grave. Now undoubtedly John Keats was a great poet and I'd be more than wise to invest my £6.99 in his beautiful poetry whatever the reasoning. I simply beg the question, am I interested in the real John Keats or rather was I won around by the John Keats Ben Whishaw chose to portray? Can I gain enjoyment from the film and still appreciate the art? (Interestingly enough, the pre-Raphaelites based much of their work on that of Keats. Samuel Barnett played Millais/played Keats' friend Joseph Severn in Bright Star. Connections connections.)


In other exciting news:

* Charlotte and I tidied Vicente's room, watched a long debate about conceptual art at the union and A Very Potter Musical on youtube. Charlotte gave me some lovely late birthday presents, including a pretty necklace and a vintage Doctor Who video :)
* I went to see La Traviata with my auntie on Friday. I was ill, which meant that I was one of those people, i.e. the ones that cough the entire way through an amazing performance. Oh the shame.
* Come Saturday I was feeling too ill to go to Loughborough. Instead, we went out for lunch and to visit the deer in Richmond Park. I'm toying with the idea of buying this woolly stag jumper. It was ever so warm and cozy, but would it be a little too topshop?

OH Vampires.

True Blood Wednesdays + Wallace and Gromit Google = ♥.
I've been majorly lazy since I got back from Venice (as in all day lie-in and tv, so much for my straightaway scrapbook lazy) but tomorrow I'm off to Oxford to visit Charlotte and to watch another opera with my auntie. At the weekend I'm going to Loughborough again to see Hannah and Vicki and Sarah and Nia. Hopefully there will be fireworks involved at some point and it will be amazing. Actually, I probably evacuate London far too much, but I do love to get away and visit my friendies.

Ciao bella.

At two o'clock on Saturday morning, running on precisely zero hours of sleep and pent-up excitement, we left for Venice in Sam's poor broken-down car. On the way to Stansted we sang Greenday and Wheatus and other classic tracks in order to keep our driver awake, which probably worked as we arrived in one piece :) At the airport we met up with the Canterbury contingent, Lucy, Liz and Holly and proceeded through the rigmarole of bag weigh-ins and security. In the departures lounge I bought a Boots meal deal (because I have been taught well) and a crossword book in WH Smiths (because really I am an old lady at heart). Aboard the plane I fought Alice for the window seat and won, so I spent the majority of take-off watching out of the window and waiting for a glorious sunrise (the results of which were mediocre to say the least). We arrived at Treviso airport at nine a.m. and boarded a bus which took us to the island of Venezia. We then bought water bus tickets and set off in search of our hostel.

Luckily our rooms were very nice, despite a suspicious front door and a dark winding staircase. In the reception room we were met by several American and Australian girls, who put our minds at ease with their tales from the road. After a quick rest (still no sleep at this point) and a change of clothes we set out again, traversing the back-streets and canal ways of the city in an attempt to get a feel for the place. Venice was quite unlike any city I'd been to before, everywhere we looked there was amazing architecture and picturesque views and the way the buildings nestled on the Grand Canal created a magical, floating sensation. Eventually we found ourselves in the general direction of St Mark's Square.

We visited the Basilica and I yo-yo'd off in various directions, taking photos while the others browsed the glass shops and Venetian mask stalls. After visiting another church on the other side of the canal and getting slightly lost (i.e. coming to the end of the island), we took an extended tour back to the hostel. I was by this point tired and cold, but we saw some lovely interesting things on the way home. Tea was Chinese takeaway and my noodles were of the crispy, uncooked variety. Thankfully Alice saved me from starvation and via. all means of swapsies I had a nice dinner after all.

The next morning I woke to the words, "... from Krakow" "Where's that?" "I'm not sure, Jess would know", so I sleepily rolled over in bed and mumbled "Poland". We spent the day in serious art contemplation as we visited the Venice Biennale. There was a huge selection of contemporary pieces from all corners of the world and by no means were we able to cover it all. Instead we focused on the Giardini collection, which included work from the UK, the United States and Scandinavia. Some of my favourite artists/exhibitions included Georges Adeagbo, Tomas Saraceno and Öyvind Fahlström. I loved "Instruction Pieces" by Yoko Ono (e.g. "Painting to exist only when it's copied or photographed. Let people copy or photograph your paintings. Destroy the originals. 1964 Spring."). We had lunch in the most confusing restaurant ever, paninis that you literally had to fight for. Then we continued to peruse the pavilions to the point of art overdose.

At teatime we went back to San Marco, where we eventually found a cheap restaurant selling pasta and pizza. I chose the latter, which was a wise decision - the portions of pasta were minuscule in comparison with my hefty Four Cheeses. We went back to our hostel by way of cake shops, gelato and the Rialto Bridge. Then we set off again in search of Plaza San Paulo. This involved wandering round in circles, forever skirting our intended destination, loudly singing "WHEN THE MOON HITS YOUR EYE LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE" and discussing Pinocchio, waving to the boats on the canal and cheering when somebody finally waved back and finally consulting our many maps, finding the square and turning back again. In a little side street glass shop Alice, Gabby and I bought floating glass girlfriends for the fish tank at home. Mine was an octopus whom I named Oliver (I decided that Patrick was in fact a gay fishy).

On the last day Alice and Gabby tried once again to wake me up with geography trivia, but this time I answered only when I was good and ready to :) We packed our bags, ate breakfast in the cafe next door and settled the bill with the hostel owners. Before Venice the word hostel was enough to generate a wave of anxiety, but now I feel quite inspired to travel. Inter rail this summer, anyone? We went our separate ways on Monday; team Canterbury back to the Biennale, team London to the Doge's Palace. Along the way we stopped for photographs, postcards and more gelato, despite the fact it was raining. The Doge's Palace was large, dry and beautiful and we spent much of the day there, reading the information plaques and admiring the lavish decor. We sighed our way across the Bridge of Sighs (which, would you believe it, was covered in scaffolding. I truly think I might be cursed) and paid the gift shop a passing visit (I bought an Italian notebook, the scrapbook starts today :))

We bought slices of pizza for lunch and did a spot of last minute souvenir shopping, which involved pretty mask indecision and a ten minute queue in the post office. Then we made our way back to the hostel, wrote some last minute postcards, said our goodbyes and set off for the airport. I caused some hassle with my request for a Venetian McDonalds, which my happy meal toy (Italian trivial pursuit!) only just made up for. But we made it onto the bus and back to the airport, with more than enough time to spare. Then there was security, pizza, small Venezia gondola hats, one more gelato for good luck, art magazines, a long wait as the plane battled with the rain in a bid to land, crosswords, geography skills, Stansted express, drunken Americans and finally night buses home again.

For more Venice photos, skedaddle on over here.