Witches, Disease, and D.W Griffith

My sleeping schedule is so completely screwed up. I have only myself to blame for this. Well, myself, Lady Gaga, and black ciders.

Never before have I been more psyched for my classes. I give you...my course load:

Heretic, Witches, and Conspirators
A history course focusing on "the way religious and social minorities, particularly those regarded as heretical or socially malign, were perceived, written about and treated in the early modern period. Identities/Communities discussed will included witches, Jews, Catholic and Protestant sectarians and `vagabonds’".

Malleus Maleficarum is required reading. Bomb.

Body, Disease, and Society
Another 3-worder history course on how Europeans imagined the body and understood disease. What have I learned so far? Everything can be cured by a phlebotomy. Wait - maybe that isn't quite right...

Film and History
A cultural studies course on how history is displayed through film. We are focusing on American history and have started screening Birth of a Nation. Way to make an international student feel guilty about her home country.

I visited one of our two libraries today. As schools of comparable size, how does Leeds have 2 libraries and Wisconsin have 40?

From Leeds with Love

After being in this lovely country for only a week I've run into many strange things that cause George Orwell's 1984 and James Bond to come to mind. These are my favorite Bonds. You cannot have just one favorite - because it will automatically be Sean Connery. Although that does go against the definition of a favorite...

It is strange how vocal security here is about spying on your neighbors and those around you. In the US (airports, especially) you are told to keep on eye out, look out for suspicious objects. However, the British really put it in your face that you should report any suspicious people, activity, etc. It isn't that wild of a claim, I suppose, just surprising at how upfront it is. There are cameras everywhere you turn on campus and near all the residences. I like cameras, I do...because I have nothing to hide and I appreciate the feeling of safety they give me. However, whenever my eyes discover one camera they dart around to find the next, and the next. I look like a paranoid criminal checking out exit routes and vulnerable reception cords.

We were told at orientation that to watch TV here you have to buy a pretty pricey license. Apparently, these trucks with hi-tech antennas drive around regularly and can sense when you are receiving illegal signal. That just sounds so...Orwellian. I'm just imagining a white van with "War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, and Ignorance is Strength" painted on the side driving up to my flat and listening in. Is she committing thoughtcrime? Probably.

Motown, Madonna, and Celine.

Reasons I currently love England:

They play Madonna in their grocery stores. I'm not talking about Like a Prayer, 4 minutes, or even Holiday. I'm talking about those center-of-the-album tracks that don't hit American airwaves.

They have a Lebanese joint that plays the best of Celine Dion. So while eating delicious pita and hummus, My Heart Will Go On starts up. What the what? Where am I?

They appreciate Motown and know the words to Ain't No Mountain High Enough. But than again, who doesn't?

Their scary street hoodlums are actually just 14-year-old boys who play a form of "made you look". I tell you, there is nothing funnier than making someone look down at something that isn't even there. God, run an hour of that on NBC and BAM, you have a revitalized network.

Natalie in Leeds - for real this time

I'm sitting next to a barred window, near a plug-in that popped angrily at me earlier, with a fresh cup of tea (green with lemon, and not reheated). That's right - I'm officially in England. Before it's mainly been, "Natalie in Borders, worrying", "Natalie in Plymouth, panicking", and "Natalie in Manchester, freezing". I'm in Leeds now and all is well.

Ever seen the Nicole Kidman film, The Others? Well that is exactly what the British countryside reminded me of. As we trained to Leeds there was a thick fog set low in the valley and the country homes were consumed by it. It probably looked stately and beautiful to any other observer but with my great lack of sleep and foggy mind, I jumped to a Tom Cruise-produced movie.

The city center of Leeds is clean and lively yet it is juxtaposed with old, almost charred looking churches - making a very interesting city landscape. Students walking the streets here would fit nicely into Michelangelo's Cafe on State - well put together and very international. Everyone is very nice but I'm a bit worried about how my American accent sounds to their ears. After discussing this very topic with some locals I discovered that as long as you don't have valley girl accent, you are fine. In fact, many boys we met in this pizza shop around 2 am mentioned how much they loved American accents on girls. But this could have been because we were at a dive that sold 18'' pizzas for 2 pounds. And it was 2 am.

I've had this affinity for the English accent since I was 3 and danced around to Mary Poppins while eating chocolate teddy grahams. I like to think that I can do a convincing one. I think this so much that for April Fools Day last year I left voicemails for 4 people as Keira Knightley. Now, I didn't want to really go into the accent here but the potential for entertainment was so high and offense so low. Apparently my Keira Knightley is from the slums of London (maybe I'm just doing a pre-Pirates Keira?) and my normal English accent is actually tinged with Australian. I speak Spanish with a Japanese accent so I really shouldn't be surprised. But a quick tip to instantly sounds some form of foreign - just add a bit of r after an o. Such as "nor, I wouldn't fancy that". Or, "Sor, really I don't knowr wha' you are talkin' about".

I leave you with a beautiful picture of my fish and chips. Fish-n-chips? Fish an' chips?

Cheers Minnesota!

Just some photos of people I'll be missing. I'm used to being away from some of them for 3-4 month bouts, others I haven't been away from for more than 3 weeks. Strange how spread out around the world we will be. El in Peru, Amy in Spain, Char in Australia, Alisa in NYC, Emily in Denmark, and an awesome bunch in the midwest. It will go by so fast. Before I know it we will be lingering past midnight on the docks of Wayzata and dipping our feet into Lake Mendota.

My plane leaves tomorrow and I have all things squared away: travel docs, train tickets, appropriate weight baggage. Nonetheless, I don't plan on sleeping much. There is too much to plan. I'm already readying a trip to Copenhagen in mid-February to visit my sister and my future hermano. I'd love to make it over to Ireland for St. Patrick's Day...even if all those Catholics are shut away in church all day (so I hear). I'm also planning on training down to Southampton on April 14 to visit the docks and graveyard. I cannot imagine a better way to spend the date.

I'm thinking of writing a novel on the flights there. I'll let you know how that goes :)

Need Sleep. Resist Coffee.

I am officially limiting my caffeine intake for the first time since I went cold turkey in my last year of high school. From this experience, I learned that it only takes one week to get over the headaches and involuntary midmorning naps. However, it is more fun to have people think you are clean when, in fact, you really are just gulping down a thermos before entering school and throwing back con pannas between weekend gatherings. Oh the thrill of it! Coffee-laced adrenaline mixed with the paranoid anxiety of being discovered.

This instance is more for my sanity than wish to convince friends that I'm not an addict. My departure date is looming and every night I lay awake thinking of all the terrible things that could go wrong (all of which, in the broader picture, aren't all that terrible - but I cannot come to that rationalization at 2am). I won't make friends. My nights and weekends will consist of me sitting alone in my room. The details of traveling will be too much for me to handle. I won't be able to travel anywhere outside of England and this whole trip will be a waste. I won't be able to see it all. I will run out of money and food. I will be attacked by a Manchester United fan and DIE.

Therefore: No more coffee past noon. I need to sleep.

I'm really quite fine during the day.

Pre-Departure Planning

I leave in exactly one week. Seven days from now I'll be sitting in the Chicago airport, waiting to catch a flight to Manchester and wondering how I will then get to Leeds. Train? Coach? Taxi? I'm sure I'll get there somehow - I'm in England after all, not Mongolia. I think that line will probably be running through my head as I run into the blunders and annoyances of traveling. England, not Mongolia. England, not Mongolia.

Yet instead of packing, instead of actually figuring out the logistics of how I'm going to get to Leeds from an airport in a whole other city, I've dedicated my time to deciding which books to bring with me for the plane and my 6 hour layover. They need to be light (preferably paperback), have appropriate covers (as haughty jet-setters may cast a judgmental glance in my direction from time to time), take up time, and have appropriate meaning.

The Children of Henry VIII by Alison Weir
Seemingly perfect for a flight to Britain: portraits of Lady Mary, Lady Elizabeth, Prince Edward, and Lady Jane Grey by a prolific British biographer.

Vanity Fair by William Thackeray
A 650 page piece of classic English literature. I hate to admit it but the only reason I haven't begun this book yet is because of how incredibly unsuccessful the Reese Witherspoon film version was. That sounds horrible. But if a major studio adaptation starring an Oscar-winner and American sweetheart cannot garner viewers than is the book going to really keep my attention? Doubtfully.

Delizia by John Dickie
A hardcover historical exploration of Italian gastronomy. Literally the perfect book for me - the history of Italy, through its food. However, I'm not going to Italy...on this flight. I'm going to a land known for puddings and tasteless sauces. And potpie. I hate potpie. I love pesto genovese. This will only torture me.

Throwing these titles aside, I decided to reread Elizabeth Gilbert's monster success Eat, Pray Love and take another stab at Nabokov's most famous work, Lolita. I have a friend who read Eat, Pray, Love in Thailand and found it cringeworthy; Gilbert's self-indulgent 3 month vacation really upset her. However it is all about personal journeys, growth, learning - all that good stuff that I'm hoping comes from my trip abroad. Plus it is light and fluffy - a good balance to Lolita. It seems as though I only read Lolita when I'm in Europe. I began it 3 years ago while abroad in France for the summer. Can't say why I let it go, but I'm excited for the chance to actually savor it this time.

I've also considered bringing crossword puzzles. But who am I kidding? The only times I can do those are Mondays (easiest puzzles of the week) and during Physics class.

I have a slight suspicion that I will get on the plane, see a James Macavoy film available, and again not pass page 100 of Lolita.