in britannia

So on Saturday morning, I went to Harvard Square for my haircut. I wish I had a before and after photo to post. I don't. Instead, I just have this to say: I went to the last bit of the rehearsal dinner of Mike's wedding on Friday night and none of my relatives recognized me. While there were a few people who said that they preferred (or at least, were amused by) the longer hair, the vast majority seemed to view this as an improvement.

Went to have breakfast and coffee with Diana afterward. I was planning, actually, to spend much of today with Diana and instead to devote all of Saturday and Sunday to family and wedding-related activities. Unfortunately, her grandmother passed away last week, so Diana had to go back to California. It was excellent to see her - I miss her a lot when we're apart. Not that this is even the longest stretch of time, but still.

Picked up the tuxedo - we look good in those things. Then off to Mike's, where we had lunch. I think the gods were smiling down on us that day, because lunch was an industrial-sized helping of McDonald's food. Enough to choke an elephant, I think. Nine supersized boxes of fries in one bag - big macs, quarter pounders, fish sandwiches, and grilled chicken. Outstanding. I haven't eaten at McDonald's since I left New Jersey last August. This was, ultimately, both a great priviledge and also a phenomenal reminder of why not.

The wedding was fantastic, except that it was way hot in Memorial Chapel. And I was amused when the chaplain referred to Harvard as an "ancient institution." Harvard, founded 1640. The Queen's College, Oxford, founded 1341. So yeah. Ancient.

We spent ages on the steps of the chapel and in the Boston Public Gardens having our photographs taken: it was gruelling, it was hot, and it was gross. At the same time, it was wonderful to see Mike and Doreen out there, and of course, the weather was much better than it had been. The past five weeks have been awful in Boston: lots of rain, snow, grossness. Saturday was gorgeous, actually bordering on hot. It rained very very briefly, but no matter. Unfortunately for the wedding party, by the time we got back to the Four Seasons for the reception, most of the appetizers, including a giant tin of caviar, were gone. I was not impressed. :(

Food was delicious: lamb chop hors d'oeuvres (did I even spell that right?), open bar, and filet mignon topped with seared fois gras. Outstanding. The band was cute, and for the first time, there were no party games, no mucking about, no garter, no bouquet toss, no WHATEVER. In short, a fantastic wedding party.

I got to reconnect with a lot of great people, and I think it was nice to see everyone. Yesterday, we gathered at my aunt's house (Mike's mom), for a brunch, then some came out to our house for a get-together, and then dinner, which was good. The service, however, decidedly sub-optimal. Saw Star Wars too. Good movie. Though Natalie Portman gets worse with each one.

Anyway, a lovely weekend. We're going up to New Hampshire for dinner with some friends tonight. Leaving tomorrow at 8:15 am. Again, not impressed.

Congratulations to Michael and Doreen, who were married yesterday! The service, in Harvard's Memorial Church, was lovely, and the reception at the Four Seasons Hotel in Boston was phenomenal. They're a really cute couple - more about them, I suppose, later. Right now, I'm just thrilled for them, but am really busy preparing for a party to be thrown at our house for the family members who are in town from all over - California, Hong Kong, etc.

Specific location unknown, most likely south of Iceland while flying over the Atlantic Ocean. Well, today was kind of a bust rowing-wise, as the Keble Men’s 3rd were bumped pretty fast by the Christ Church Men’s 3rd boat. The Women’s 1st boat was bumped for the first time in a year today. Jess was unhappy about that, but in truth there really wasn’t much that could be done. Today was, in fact, my last race for Keble College this academic year. One by one, my extracurricular activities are coming to a close: two weeks ago was the last OUO concert, Tuesday was the last OU Sinfonietta concert, and today the last crew race. I will, without question, be singing through the remainder of the term. On a sort of side note, wow – I got lightly sunburned yesterday as I was officiating a few of the races.

So today is the last day of classes at the P. school – I wish them the best of luck on their exams. Exam preparation was always the worst part of being a student. I honestly couldn’t tell you whether it was bad as a teacher, since middle school Latin didn’t give exams. I would always have the week of exams off even though my colleagues did not. I miss that…

There’s a guy sitting behind me spinning complete lies about America to an English kid who’s visiting America for the first time. That’s not true: I’m sure he thinks that the stories he’s telling are true, about Paul Revere and his midnight ride to Lexington (Revere never made it past Waltham), and how the battles of Lexington and Concord are reenacted on July 4th. I had to fight the urge to smack him and set this poor English kid straight.

Oh and the food tonight, surprisingly good. I was pleasantly surprised to hear over the PA system that the flight crew told us the selection for dinner so that we could choose the appropriate color of wine. I had a rather nasty red wine from Bordeaux. It was astringent and entirely unsubtle. It was served with a beef lasagna, which was good, though not actually a beef lasagna. It was a layered pasta bake, but with odd hints of grease and basil sauce: tomatoes were present, I think, but their effect was minimal. However, the starter was probably the best I’ve had on an airplane in a long while – grape sized buffalo mozzarella and real fresh tomatoes on a bed of arugula, accompanied by a delightful pesto vinaigrette. The dessert too, which was a rich chocolate torte with fresh raspberry coulis, was wonderful.

I’m excited to be going home: I haven’t seen my family in almost six months and I’m really psyched to be seeing them again. Specifically, I can’t wait to see my Mom and Dad – they do a lot for me, and it’s rare that I get to spend much time with them. Andrew will be home from medical school too, and I can’t wait to see what he’s up to. As for Matt, well, it’s *always* fun to see Matt.

I’m actually heading back for my cousin Mike’s wedding. He’s marrying Doreen, who is a med student, and the three of us and many, many more have all grown up together. Which I have to say makes it kind of weird that Mike and Doreen are getting married – it’s a little incestuous, methinks. Not, like, ot the point of actual incest or anything, but because we were all friends and like one big extended family growing up. It’s just a little weird, I guess. I do wish them the best of luck, and I’m honored to have been asked to serve as a groomsman.

I wanted to see Diana while I was in town too, but she’s leaving tomorrow for California to attend the funeral of her grandmother. Of course I’m disappointed, but I know that she has to go home for the good of her family, and there’s nothing in my heart that would want to prevent her from doing that. I’ll see her in a few weeks time when I come back for Matt’s high school graduation.

Oh, and one more thing. I’ve officially entered the election for MCR president for next year. It’s something that I think that I can do well, something that I can leave a legacy doing, and something that I think would be, of course, a good amount of hard work, but also quite a bit of fun.

Today the blog turns a whole one year old. It's been a nice way to keep in touch with people. Also to rant and rave about the world and its stupidity from time to time. I've enjoyed keeping a blog - I hope people are enjoying reading it.

As for the regatta, we got bumped yesterday by Magdalen, which is unfortunate, since we now have to catch Magdalen today. We figure we could try to go for an overbump and try for Queen's instead. Coming back to America tomorrow evening. Can't wait.

Last night, I played in a concert by the Oxford University Sinfonietta. First up was a selection of pieces from Gluck's Orfeo et Euridice. Perhaps it was that we didn't take Gluck seriously. Or perhaps we didn't take any of it seriously. Rehearsals were shoddily planned and poorly executed; music didn't show up at the right time, and with finals and such here, a large number of the orchestra just plain dropped out. So yeah, the Gluck was awful. In my defense, I think I did a pretty good job sight reading the piece in the dress rehearsal. Tuning was, naturally, atrocious.

The second half of the program was Stravinsky's Apollon Musagete. Forgive me, but I left and went for a pint in the pub instead. A nice ale called Waggledance. Though it wasn't as good as other pints of Waggledance I've had - perhaps this one was a little off.

The middle piece was fun. If you have a warped sense of fun. Spaces, by Tim Ewers, was written in 1981 and is, in British terms, "a pile of pants." The following is copyright Tim Ewers, having been printed in the program: "Spaces is written for three instrumental groups: two groups of wind instruments situated on either side of a piano and percussion group. The wind instruments are often used antiphonally, the exploration of the spacial and directional qualities of sound being a feature of this piece. The music is in three sections separated by short solos for piano and percussion. The two outer sections have a timeless quality: the opening part is built entirely from two chords and the closing section from ascending and descending scales. The central part alternates and combines three more dynamic types of music: melodic lines, brass fanfares and wave patterns." Fascinating stuff. If you're a musicologist or stoned.

As for attempting to play it, once we got through the origami nightmare that was the music itself (mine fell off of the stand during the concert), there was the ridiculous mess that was the piece itself. My friends Liz and Catherine were sitting in the audience right in my line of vision, and they were so funny I couldn't help but laugh while I was playing. Liz was obviously having trouble keeping a straight face, and Catherine was obviously displeased at the 'music' itself. Luckily, I didn't have a view of my friend Debbie, who was sitting outside of my field of vision. Evidently, she was being quiet but smirking like crazy. She lost it when, during the applause, the composer Tim Ewers stood up to take a bow. You could hear suddenly in the audience a gasp and then an 'oh no...' when it became obvious that he had heard all of the snickering from the crowd. Serves him right for writing ridiculous pieces of music.

Today is the first day of Eights, or what has been dubbed on one rowing blog as the "Oxford Summer Comedy Rowing Week". Read my last post to see our chances. They don't look pretty, I'll tell you what. I'm getting nervous. We're to report to the boathouse in 1.5 hrs.

Last night, I was invited to have dinner with the new Keble chaplain, Rev. Allen Shin. He's actually a Chinese American who was most recently based in New York City. He's a trained opera singer and is a very cool guy. Nice chat with him about Palestrina and the popularity of concert settings of liturgical music. Phenomenal.

Dinner was great - High Table food at plebian prices. Starter was a sliced nectarine on baby greens with prosciutto. Served with a lovely and crisp white wine. Main course was a delicious roulade of lamb in an onion gravy, with roasted new potatoes and a courgette (zucchini) and pepper pseudo-jambalaya type thing. The red wine here was less successfully paired than the starter. Dessert was a mixed berry compote. Mmmm...

Sort of a nice last meal before the hellish experience of waking up at 3:45 AM to go down to the boathouse today. 4:30 outing - crazy early. It was, sadly, the only time we could row, since we are officially the lowest crew that Keble is fielding (two Women's crews, three Men's crews - we're the Men's III) and therefore we get the lowest pick of outing times. Believe it or not, though, it went fantastically. We're being chased by Magdalen III, which really isn't a third boat at all - it's a second boat. They will catch us, no questions asked, but the real challenge is for us to catch the boat in front of us before they do. We're chasing down St. Anne's II, which will be a challenge. We're about even on them, maybe a bit faster. We're really racing the clock to see if we can catch St. Anne's before being caught by Magdalen. Or before St. Anne's catches St. Peter's, which is a terrible crew. But yeah, despite it being a ridiculously early outing, and furthermore, despite it *raining* this morning, we had a terribly productive outing that makes our crew feel much more positive. We're having fun.

Tonight we've got a Sinfonietta concert: Gluck, Stravinsky, and a new piece by Tim Ewers. To be honest, I've skipped almost all of the rehearsals, so I have no idea what's going on. I'll be sight-reading the Gluck at the dress rehearsal today. :)

Anyway, it's off to breakfast and then to class. I understand this is the last week of classes at the P. school - I wish all of my former students best of luck on their examinations, and all of my former colleagues the best of luck on grading said examinations. My heart goes out to you all.

So yeah - a successful qualifying race means that we're in the regatta. Which is fantastic. A clarification: there were 45 Men's crews rowing today to qualify for 24 spaces. We're in the top 24, at least.

Unfortunately, it looks like we're going to be chased by the Magdalen III, which will give us a run for our money. We're chasing St. Anne's II, which don't look like they'll be too much of a problem, if we saw them correctly on the river today.

OK. Time for sleep. The weather was foul today, dinner tonight was fish & chips with mushy peas, but at least my tutorial went well. Which is not to say that my advisor liked my paper - in fact, he said that he disagreed with almost all of it. But he said it was well argued, if deep down fundamentally flawed.

Wow... What a week and a half. I feel like I was buried in work, but a few fun things have indeed come up.

Chronologically, I suppose, the Oxford University Orchestra concert. I was playing contrabassoon and bassoon, and I'm very happy to report that I don't ever have to touch the contrabassoon again. Well, this year. It's insanely heavy and unwieldy and unfotunately cannot be left near the rehearsal spaces. So I have to carry it back and forth from Keble to the music faculty on St. Aldate's street. I wish I could show even on a map how long that is, but a map doesn't really do it justice. Suffice it to say, it's extremely unpleasant to walk with. Concert was Brahms' Academic Festival Overture, Kodaly Dances of Marosszek, and Mahler 1. I'd played the Brahms before and love it. Heard but never played the Mahler, and I genrally enjoy it as well. And the Kodaly was a real treat. I had very low expectations for the Kodaly going in - I usually figure it's going to be some random Hungarian nonsense but was really quite pleasantly surprised this time. Overall, the orchestra played well, though the concert was in 3rd week instead of 5th week of term, so we were understandably a bit more rushed and unsure of ourselves than at other concerts in the year. Downside: someone swiped my nice music stand. Grrr!

Finished up two days (and one aborted day) of recording with Magdala yesterday. We're recording a disc of Palestrina, which has been incredible. Tuesday we recorded two pieces, yesterday we recorded three. Wednesday we were set to record, but the recording equipment wasn't having any of it. At least that day I got some supper back at Queen's. Queen's was having a gaudy grace that night and, though I was unable to attend, I got out of Magdala's aborted recording session early enough to nick some food. As always, the delightful Queen's College cold buffet spectacular. This always includes poached salmon on wilted lettuce covered by a healthy dollop of mayonnaise, potato salad covered in mayonnaise, shredded carrots covered in mayonnaise, a tossed salad with mayonnaise and salad dressing on the side, and some sort of starch salad. Wednesday, it was rice salad. Second Wednesday in a row I'd eaten that stuff - the previous Wednesday had been a dinner thrown by the provost of Queen's in his house. The provost is an amazingly generous and kind man, and I had a lot of fun talking with him. Moreso than I ever have talking to the warden of Keble. Also met members of the Queen's SCR, which was lots of fun. But back to the disc, I got to chatting with some of my fellow singers last night at the wrap party and we all agreed it was amazing to record. There's just something about those pieces that makes one weep, they're so gorgeous. Beautiful. This CD will help to pay for our July tour to Levanto and Genoa. :)

Meanwhile, on Tuesday, I'm walking into the cloisters at Magdalen College when I run into...
Ryan Brandau!
Couldn't believe my eyes. I hardly ever see Ryan when I go to Princeton reunions or things like that. But the last time I went to Ikea in New Haven, I saw him afterward on the streets just outside of Yale. I bump into Ryan in the strangest places. He's a dear friend - someone I have a lot of affection and respect for, both musically and personally. His group, Yale Schola Cantorum, was on tour and singing in Magdalen Chapel while we were off recording. Unfortunately, he was only here for one day and had forgotten to email until it was too late. Still, it was wonderful to see him.

Meanwhile, I'm thrilled that other people have the same reaction to food writing as I do. Speaking of over the top food writing...

Monday was the MCR Black Tie Dinner. It was decent, I suppose. No menu printed, so I can't really write with any certainty of detail what we ate. Starter was a sliced pear half and brie on baby greens. Lackluster, not too flavorful, and certainly not helped by the bland white wine that was served. It lacked bite and was uninspiring. Main course was a delicious breast of duck. Served over an herb mashed potato and drizzled with a delicious sauce, I could have had much more of this. Unfortunately, the serving size was tiny and we were left feeling quite hungry. The red had enough spice to stand up to the gaminess of the duck, but really didn't leave anything memorable. And having gone to France a few months ago, where I had quite a bit of duck and some delicious red wines, this was a little lacking, sadly. Dessert was a roulade of whipped cream and hazelnuts in a raspberry sauce. I gave mine to Ted, as I really hate hazelnuts. One star out of four, at best. The afterparty, however, was outstanding: we had planned an extravagant to-do in a place called Freud's, but Freud's wasn't going to charge us much and someone else came in after the contracts had been signed and offered them a boatload of money. They conveniently forgot that they had already booked us and doublebooked us out of there. So we ended up at Copa, where we could rent out the entire top floor. Appetizer trays of food abounded (more food, honestly, than had been at the dinner), and we had set up a poker game, complete with a very professional dealer from the Keble JCR. Nice work. A great night overall.

And then finally, today is the qualifying race for the Summer Eights regatta. This is the first time in two years the MCR has been strong enough to enter a boat. And we are pretty strong. In the last regatta, Tom rowed in the 2nd VIII, Luke, Heiko and I rowed in the 3rd VIII. In the Michelmas term regatta, I rowed with the A crew, Tom and Dan in the B, Luke and Heiko with the C. Bosh is a rugby player who's got a lot of power, Steve is an MBA with a good amount of discipline and control, and the only real newbie is Edouard, who has made leaps and bounds this term. We like our chances, but there are still 49 crews competing for 26 spots on the water. I'm nervous... We have a time trial today - top 26 crews get to race next week. I will be, shall we say, annoyed if we are not among them.

We've had great coaching - Jess Rispoli from the Women's 1st VIII is our head coach. Also, Robin Owen, who was on the Men's 1st VIII a few years back, Inga Deakin, who rowed for her college at Cambridge and is now on the Women's 1st VIII also coached. Best coach, or at least, most illustrious coach, might have to be Jason Flickinger, who rowed in the winning Blues boat this year. See this posting from March for information on the boat race. Jason has the 8th fastest 2000m erg time in the world. At the beginning of Hilary Term, I pulled my butt off to pull at 7:20. I couldn't feel my legs afterward and felt like passing out. Jason pulls a 5:30. RIDICULOUS. Anyway, Jason came down to coach us, but because one of our members forgot to come down, he jumped in the boat. It probably would have been more enjoyable to have him coaching from the bank, but now I can say I've rowed in a boat with Flick. amazing.

OK, that's it. So wish us luck with rowing on. I'll know by tonight at 8 whether we qualified. Most people say that we will, but I'll relax when I see the results.

Man... It's been a long time since I've posted anything. It's difficult, really.
Brief rundown since last week.
Thursday: all nighter to get a paper in.
Friday: supervisor doesn't like paper.
Saturday: orchestra concert. more on that this afternoon, hopefully.
Sunday: evensong, orchestra #2 rehearsal.
Monday: Keble MCR Black Tie Dinner
Tuesday: Recording sessions with Magdala
Today: Recording sessions with Magdala

So yeah, I've been busy. But it's a good busy, I think. More later. Got class at 3.

OK. So some promise...
Here's one more. ONE.
Seriously.

From the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, a recipe for Spam Sushi.

These really are sort of the table scraps of hilarity. And of course, table scraps, when put together in the right proportions, can make darn good eatin'. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to write this post before lunch...

I'm in the Bodleian Library, which is one of the largest and most esteemed libraries in the world. It's nice that I've got internet access, as it makes doing research a lot easier. And, of course, makes me that much more easily distractable. From the New York Times today:

First off, the fortune cookie bet. I love the fact that those lucky numbers actually turned out lucky. I'm not actually too surprised, as those cookies have always been pretty magical in my eyes. I'm just surprised at the number of events which had to line up for that to work.
a) the Chinese restaurant had to pick those particular cookies to give out.
b) the people who ate the Chinese food had to read the lucky numbers.
c) they all had to be the types of people who play the lottery.
d) they all had to play the lottery on the same day.
e) finally, the numbers had to be right.
The mathematical improbability of this is phenomenal and yet, there it is. Sweet.

Secondly, note the byline of the aforementioned article. Jennifer 8 Lee is, in fact, the product of two parents who also believe in lucky numbers. I remember reading an article in the Boston Globe back in 1999 or something which profiled Ms. Lee because she had a middle nmae that would not fit on standardized testing bubble-sheets. 8 is a lucky number in Chinese culture, and this is simply an extreme of that. By the way, she is now being sued by a landlord in Washington DC for throwing wild parties and destroying her apartment in the process. Silly yuppies... When will they learn?

So the Bodleian Library has a famous "Bodleian Declaration", which is pretty quaint.
I hereby undertake not to remove from the Library, or to mark, deface, or injure in any way any volume, documnet, or other object belonging to it or in its custody; not to bring into the Library or kindle therein any fire or flame, and not to smoke in the library; and I promise to obey all rules of the library. The Italics are mine, the boldfaced words are, indeed, in the declaration itself. I particularly like having to promise not to kindle herein any fire or flame.

And it's Wednesday, so another round of food-related articles have hit the nodes of the web. Joy! Another note from the New York Times regarding Yale (boo, hiss!), this time about a dining hall that serves organic, locally grown foodstuffs. It's so good it's got a bouncer to make sure you don't get in if you're not a member of that particular residential college. Inspired by the Alice Waters philosophy of local and sustainable produce-driven cuisine, of course, this starts out at Berkeley College. :P

But California is awash in its own controversy, I suppose. David Shaw of the LA Times says that there's no good pizza in California. Says the San Francisco Chronicle, pizza is alive and well in the Bay Area. Among my favorite quotes from the Shaw article, though, has to be his describing a pizza ordered at Zelo: " like tomatoes and mushrooms, but if I want a salad, I'll order one — as an appetizer, not on top of my pizza." I would have to agree.

And from the elite and snobberific coasts of our fair country to the heartland, this recipe from the Chicago Tribune. Daresay I've never seen a recipe like that in the New York Times, San Francisco Chronicle, or even Boston Globe. I have seen worse in the Globe, though, like nigiri sushi that's made not by pressing a rectangular bit of rice together in your hands and laying a piece of fish on top, but by pushing sushi rice into a tupperware container and then smoothing over the top with a layer of smoked salmon. Un-mold and clice into rectangles, as a brownie. That's good eatin'... Two weeks ago, the New York Times was running a recipe for duck confit. The Chicago Tribune's got us eating taco salad. Good grief: the Minneapolis-St. Paul Star Tribune has us eating Crunch Coated French Toast. Oddly, one of the Chinese restaurants here in Oxford has French Toast on the menu. I think for them it's a deep-fried peanut butter sandwich. Ew.

OK, so the tidbits idea kind of fell by the wayside. That's all for now, I promise. :)

A thought occurred to me at breakfast today over conversation with Stefan, a philosophy student I can't stand and who just sat down across from me, and Tony, a perfectly agreeable MCR member. For more on why I dislike Stefan, click here. Anyway, Tony and I had been talking about memory and the idea of linguistic ability when Stefan sat down and promptly hijacked the conversation. He also turned a passing statement which Tony made regarding the differences between European and American archaeological trends (Tony is an archaeologist), including Britain in with the Americans and then dismissing the entire American and British archaeological field as being rubbish. Nevermind the fact that the Americans and Brits have very different models of archaeological study: neither was rigorously European, and therefore none passed muster.

Sitting down over a meal with your friends from Oxford tends to be a very one-dimensional affair. I played in an orchestra concert last night (filling in for a friend) in St. Hugh's college. We went down to the college bar afterward for a drink, and I sat there with a bunch of music students who couldn't talk about anything other than music. And Blackadder. When I dine with politics students conversation is invariably about politics. And heaven forbid I'm in the midst of a bunch of engineers... To be fair, I'm talking about academic conversation: there are plenty of non-academic conversations regarding rowing or the recent British elections or who Tom Cruise is with now (Katie Holmes). But if I'm eating with Americans, academic conversation will have no tendency to do anything: everything is fair game, and the facility with which we talk about a variety of subjects is astonishing.

I realized this morning that this has to do with the two educational systems at work in this environment. Those brought up in the English system took A-levels as their last year of high school, which focused their energies and studies into three strictly regimented subjects. They apply to Oxford with the pre-determined intention to study a particular subject, which they do for their three years of undergraduate training. They are extraordinarily competent in their respective subjects, but completely lost in most others. Americans, unless they go to places like MIT, are exposed to a wide variety of topics and classes before being asked to major or specialize in any particular field. For example, during my first two years of Princeton, I took classes in Chinese, Ancient Greek, Ancient Philosophy, Music Theory, Economics, Psychology, Florentine Cultural History, and Religion & Law. It's an odd combination that led to my senior thesis having something to do with legal linguistics, philosophy, statistics, and law, in addition to classics. So when Americans get together over lunch, they can chat intelligently about anything.

I was emailling back with a former colleague at the P. school back in November, and I said something that piqued his interest, I think. The mealtime conversations at Oxford are nowhere near as interesting as they were at the P. school cafeteria. I think it's honestly because, by and large, the Brits can't talk about anything outside of their academic field, which is a bit sad, really.

I remember when I started this blog and my parents asked me why I wanted to have a blog. Especially given that I'm not even sure if people read this thing (there are signs of life, here or there, but not much). I wondered if it was solely ego pushing me to publish little stories about my life, or whether it was to give me a diary to record what I was feeling or doing. Probably a little of both, to be honest. Whenever I went on orchestra tours or summer vacations, I'd try to keep a journal about that trip, if only because then I could figure out how much I spent and whether there was anything worth doing later. The problem with keeping a journal on a family vacation or an orchestra tour is that the keeping of a journal is a personal thing, and the writing of one requires you to drop out of the public for a bit. I mean, I kept a journal on a trip to Kumamoto, Japan in 1994. Every time I wanted to write an entry, I had to withdraw from my friends for 30 minutes and reflect. It was the perfect exercise in self-critique, but was difficult for me to stick with: I think I got half-way through the trip before I flaked out and stopped. This is the longest that I've ever kept a journal, and for that alone, I think I'm proud to have it be my own.

The catalyst for that first little bit was a New York Times article about the so-called "blog revolution". He profiled Gawker Media, of which I occasionally read Wonkette: I hadn't bothered to count, but according to the Nick Denton, the founder of Gawker Media, his stable of bloggers (twelve, at the moment) are required by contract to churn out at least twelve posts per day. Most readers for the Times would probably think: they just have to come up with twelve things to complain about and they have a day's paycheck? Well, yes. But the problem is in coming up with those twelve things. I mean, sure - I complain a lot. Twelve times in one day? No problem. But they're not very interesting, and throwing them all up on a blog would be horrifyingly self-indulgent. That's where it turns into hard work. They scour the daily news feeds for things to comment on, things to draw other people's attention to, and things to mock. And sometimes you don't feel like mocking people for a living: sometimes you're just happy to let the day sail by without a lot of fuss or bitterness. But nooo... You've got to get up and mock people for a living.

That said, if anyone ever wanted to pay me extra for blogging, I'd take that money. But money wouldn't change me, no sirree...

On a sort of side note, a few of my friends have accused me of being addicted to technology. Possibly because I've always got my laptop and my iPod. We'll come back to the iPod in a moment. The laptop is great: it's a beautiful machine, and while it has its share of dings and dents, I think I take pretty good care of it. And yes, I do tend to carry it around with me a little more than usual. Every lecture in college, and I think to a lesser extent here in Oxford than at Princeton, has at least one jerk who's disturbing the flow of the lecture by tapping along on a laptop taking notes. At least, in Oxford, they're taking notes: at the University of Maryland, they're sending IM's. Well, I'm that guy - that jerk who's pounding away on a keyboard. It's actually so much easier for me to take notes on my computer, but I understand that it annoys some people. I had two people move away from me in lecture on Friday because they saw me pull out my laptop.

It's amazing what schools can get away with now: two articles in the Boston Globe about New Hampshire schools. The first one regarding a censored yearbook photo in which a student posed with a broken-open shotgun in the same way that musical instruments or sports equipment are sometimes used as props to illustrate a student's extracurricular interests. If the kid has a license for it and uses it responsibly, then I don't see why he can't be photographed with it. The second article deals with a young woman who couldn't make it to gym class because she was taking AP Biology. The school was really stupid in two respects: a) not catching the mistake, and b) not accepting that a 3-season Varsity athlete who transferred into the school might not need to take "Building Essential Skills for Tomorrow". I ran into a similar situation in the last months of my high school career: I was taking AP Physics and needed to go to that, and I got in trouble for asking to be excused from a choral competition. In my defense, the choral competition has no impact on the school, it was a competition for the best choral conductor in the state, which, in my humble opinion, our conductor had no right being present at, let alone compelling our participation. But that's all water under the bridge. Very bitter water...

Finally, and this sort of comes full circle, there's a story in the New York Times about whether the iPod is losing its cool. I can say that I haven't noticed anything of that sort, though to be fair, the iPod only hit England around November and by that time, I was well into my iPod obsession. I was particularly amused by one comment made by the Times: "With simple styling and an easy-to-use format, it is little surprise that even the president has stumbled upon the iPod." Of course, I'm not saying that the president should have an iPod, I'm kind of bummed out that he does, because a) yes it makes my iPod less cool, and b) this counts for news?!?, but was amused by the insinuation that it was the iPod's idiot-proof simplicity that drew the president's attention.

It's still Mother's Day in the US. And I hope that moms everywhere are feeling a little more loved. I certainly hope that my mother is.

Happy Mother's Day!

I didn't get to make my "Mother's Day is coming up" speech at the P. school this year, which was too bad, because it's one of my favorites. Mother's Day is important: Moms are important. According to Mr. T., Moms are to be respected. By the way, that last link a relatively long "song" by Mr. T., so don't click it if you've got low bandwidth. I've been really fortunate to have an amazing and loving mother, and also, being at the P. school, I had a few people there in the foreign language office who were more than willing to mother me as well. So today being Mother's Day, at least, in the US, I just want to say thanks, Mom.

On a side note, when I went out with some friends here in Oxford to find a Mother's Day Card for my Mom, the look of terror on their faces was palpable: "did we forget Mother's Day? Oh no! I have to find something for Mother's Day!" Only after I told them that England's Mothering Sunday was, like, two months ago, did they calm down.

Sadly, it's laundry time again.
And laundry in this stupid country gets expensive, for certain... It's £1 per load per machine, so 1 load of laundry takes £2 (washer and dryer), and that's only if you hit a good dryer. Otherwise, it can cost an extra £1 to get it fully dry. And at any given time, only three of the dryers are worth using, and of the remaining three, one actually runs cold. But there's no telling which is which.

I forgot to mention that on on April 30th, right before May Day, St. John's College just next door set off a massive fireworks display for no apparent reason. We were all watching a movie in the MCR when stuff we heard things exploding outside. We ran out and were treated to a fabulous display of light and sound for which we had perfect seats. I think it lasted about 10 minutes, which is impressive, considering how much those things cost. We were jokingly trying to determine how many foreign students' tuition was used to light up the skies for those 10 minutes. Oxford is expanding its non-European graduate student enrollment, as it can charge us more than it can UK or EU students. We're cash cows to Oxford. Moo...

Also down at Magdalen Bridge on May Day, this was sufficiently far away that I didn't know about it until afterward, people were jumping into the river. Now, this is a sort of almost time honored (honoured?) tradition dating who knows how far back. The problem is that Magdalen Bridge is kind of a sketchy part of town, and people throw very strange things into the river from the bridge on inebriated excapades out. So the river has shopping carts, bikes, and the odd snipped of barbed wire in it. Police divers usually go down and clear the bottom of the river before May Day in anticipation of idiots jumping. This year, though, in addition, they measured how deep the river was. THREE FEET. So that's like jumping off the 25-foot high dive into the shallow end of the pool. So the police set up barriers to prevent people from jumping but, as one student was quoted in the newspaper as saying, "the police tried to stop us, be we weren't having any of it." More than 100 people are reported to have jumped, though more reputable news sources scale that number back to fifty. And of those, at least twenty-five were treated by paramedics, and at least twelve were taken to the hospital. Among the injuries, a plethora of crushed bones, lacerations, a reported spinal injury when someone in the river was landed upon, and an impalement of someone's knee onto the spikes on a gate. Pictures, video, and news stories can be found here.

Finally, today's New York Times includes an article stating that Ugly Children May Get Parental Short Shrift. In other words, parents treat cute kids better than ugly ones. The findings are a bit contentious, as one might imagine. Still, I'd rather take it up with one of the respondents of to the report, quoted in the article thus: "Wealthier parents can feed, clothe and take care of their children better due to greater resources," Dr. Sternberg said, possibly making them more attractive. "The link to evolutionary theory is speculative." I think it's interesting that Dr. Sternberg makes the link from wealth to physical attractiveness. It's a bold move, and one that I'd reckon not many agree with. Sure, wealthier parents can do a lot more for their kids, but making them more attractive? Maybe they're paying for cosmetic surgery...

Yesterday was Rogation Sunday, a day in the Anglican Church traditional set aside to ask for blessing upon the crops being planted in this spring season. Yesterday's homily in Queen's was upon the idea of prayer, and the practice of it. It was an amazing sermon, and it gave me a lot to think about. Without going into too much detail, the basic idea was very plain: prayer, as an effective conversation with God can only be unertaken by someone who has taken the time to know God well. Otherwise, it is indeed a one-sided conversation held between one's self and a mere fantasy of God, and that can't do anything for you.

On a more terrestrial note, yesterday was also May Day. I remember our May Day celebrations at BB&N when I was in the lower school: it was a spring festival with singing, dancing, a maypole... It was an innocent and joyous celebration of spring. On May Day here in Oxford, the choir of Magdalen College climb to the top of the college bell tower to sing a few songs to the assembled crowd. This has become such a tradition that the crowd is now massive, but the spectacle is amazing. I wish I'd brought my camera... There's Morris dancing around as well, and a few pantomime performances. It's really something else.