Things that are currently good:

• I’m sitting at a table with a chair, as opposed to on the ground.

• I have a trolley, so I don’t have to continue lugging my entirely too heavy luggage around.

• I got into the Novella CrWr workshop for next semester!

• My flight still isn’t cancelled or delayed, and I can check-in in about two hours

• It still isn’t snowing

Accentuate the positive.

I’ll do anything to get home today.  Pleeeease, Kuwait Air, PULL THROUGH FOR ME.

The earliest I’ll get out is Tuesday.  Hopefully the latest is Thursday.

This sucks.  But at least I’m with good company.  And here’s hoping I get out in time for Christmas. :(

In response to my sentimentality yesterday: FORGET IT.

Rachel and I woke up to a freaking blizzard (and to defend England, even though I will later trash it for its inability to handle snow, it was fairly severe snow in the morning…), but we left for Heathrow yesterday on a 7:15 a.m. coach anyway (so I was awake at 5:50 a.m.).  We slipped all over the snowy sidewalks with too many suitcases to get to this coach, which was supposed to have us at Heathrow by 9:40 a.m. in time for my 12:00 flight and Rachel’s 1:30 flight.

Because of the snow, we arrived at Heathrow at 12:15.

I’m still in Heathrow.  It is now Sunday at 9:42 a.m.  Every flight practically was cancelled.

I have a flight for this afternoon that I’m desperately hoping will get out.

It is no longer snowing, but England sucks at dealing with any of this shit (snow), so while my flight today is still ‘Scheduled’ on Heathrow’s and Virgin Atlantic’s websites, I will remain skeptical and stressed until the airplane wheels are off the ground.

Last night, Rachel and I stayed at the Hilton in the airport.  We were emotionally and physically exhausted and just wanted to get some dinner.  So we walk out the door to head for the casual restaurant, and just before the door closes, I notice we’ve left the light on.  So I reach my hand inside the room to flip the switch, and we close the door.  We then heard a loud crashbangboomclang, so I opened the door again to see what had happened.

Or, more importantly, I could not open the door, because whatever had fallen was blocking it.  With all of our stuff - luggage, passports, my boarding pass, etc. - inside the room.

So now, not only had both of our flights gone to hell and there was snow everywhere in England, but also our hotel room - of which there are NO OTHERS in the entirety of Heathrow - is inaccessible.

So, after we explained this to the concierge (and after they laughed at us), five different people attempted to solve the problem.  Two Hilton men came, stared at the door for a bit, and then said they’d be back.  They never came back.  Then, a lovely older couple came by and attempted to shove the door open.  They also offered us a hanger from their room to see if we could lift whatever the obstruction was enough to open the door, but the hanger was just too thick to make it through what little space there was between the door and the doorframe.  Then, a lady came by who works for the Hilton, saw us sitting on the floor, and asked what had happened.  She then went to get a butter knife and managed to slide it through the crack and lift the obstruction, freeing the door.  We were SO relieved.

And then we saw the obstruction: our ceiling had fallen down.  In front of the door.

The sky is literally falling.  Everywhere.  I don’t know who we pissed off to have such an incredibly sucky day yesterday, but I am really hoping today goes better.  And I really hope I get out of Heathrow and this silly, silly unable-to-cope-with-snow-at-all country today.  I’ll keep you posted!

Well, dear readers.  We’ve come to the end.

On August 28th, the day before I left for Bath, I posted a picture of all my suitcases with the same title (minus the ‘not’ bit) as above.  I’ve already packed my camera away, so I can’t give you a picture of my bags this time around, but if you’re curious, I’ve acquired another carry-on bag, and one suitcase is definitely overweight.  Also, a box was shipped home.  Where did I get all this stuff!?  Anyway, I’m definitely upset about leaving.  I don’t quite understand that I’ll be in New York tomorrow.  I’m excited to see everyone, and decorate my Christmas tree, and eat Chinese food, but…how do you just say goodbye to an experience like this?

So I went back in this blog and read what I wrote when I was struggling with the same question in August in New York: How do you say goodbye?

So, the worst part of any journey is saying goodbye.  And because of that, today was no fun…I prefer ‘see you later.’ (August 14, 2010)

I still prefer ‘see you later.’  So I’ll stick with that.

Thank you, dear readers, whoever you may be, for following my time on this side of the pond.  I hope I didn’t bore you with my ranting and raving.  But I’m afraid I may bore you one more time as I write the following:

ASE has been unbelievable for me.  I came here scared, academically drained, and not completely sure that going abroad was the best choice (yeah, I know I wrote about how it was definitely the right choice, but c’mon, doesn’t everyone need to talk themselves out of panic attacks with a little bit of embellishment on their blog!?). Tonight, I have a new love for travelling.  I never thought I’d want to go abroad again, but now I’m considering graduate school in Dublin.  I have confidence in myself academically again.  And I’ve made some of the most amazing friends during this semester.  In other words, going abroad was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.  I did this initially to miss Oberlin more, but I fear I have a different result.  Don’t get me wrong; I do miss Oberlin.  I’m ready to be back there with all my awesome, wonderful friends.  But ASE wasn’t just a break from Oberlin; it was…well.  Sixty-two blog posts. Almost two thousand photos. Thirty-six new friends. Three great co-workers. Four(ish) amazing tutors/professors.

A new home.  One hundred twelve days.  One Sasha.  

Well.  I suppose that’s it, then.  I guess this is ‘see you later.’ =)

I took my last final today! Which means I’m officially finished with ASE academics, and half-way through Junior Year of College (capitalized for emphasis on badass-ness). My last final was wild fun, as it was Fiction Writing, so I just had to write a short story. I wrote about a 6-year old boy forced (sort of) to wear a pink strawberry bicycle helmet. It was pretty damn cute, if I do say so myself. =P But, of course, the end of finals means the end of the program. So, while I’m beyond thrilled to be on winter break officially after not ever feeling that summer break ended, I’m, as I said last time, absolutely heart broken that this experience is ending.

Tonight, we went to the Jane Austen Dancers Christmas party, which was basically just class with an extended tea time (and extended food options) in the middle. We wore our regency dresses to class and got wonderful compliments all evening on them, and dancing in them made the class so much more fun! They gave us a lovely thank you at the end, but really we owe them a big thank you! The entire Jane Austen Dancers experience has been wonderful. We’re going to miss it/them so much! I already miss it. We’ll have to start up a group in America!

Also, I forgot to mention in my last blog: Friday the 10th December, the day after my last day in the office at CLIC Sargent, I participated in the CLIC Sargent National Collection at the Eastgate Tesco in Bristol! I stood in my pink CLIC Sargent hoodie (presented to me on my last day at work, along with a CLIC Sargent notepad, pen, and pencil – and they also gave me the Glee Christmas CD! So amazingly nice of them!!!), a CLIC Sargent sash (think Miss America, but pink and adorable), and a paper nurse’s cap and held a bucket to collect shoppers’ loose change. It was almost like canvassing, but nowhere near as irritating or intrusive. People were so nice about it! They loved giving money, and stopping to chat about how they had seen CLIC Sargent on ITV earlier in the day, or how their child is being treated and CLIC Sargent is helping them. It was pleasant, really. And, to make things cooler, Kai Owen, who plays Rhys on the BBC show Torchwood, came and stood with us for an hour or so! What a nice man. Very attractive, too, if I might add. You can view the few photos of me, my boss Sarah, and Kai at the National Collection here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2068516&id=1381410057&l=f2ff1988c6

Anyway, that’s sort of all for today. I packed up most of my clothes today (but forgot about my scarves…grr…I’ll deal with that tomorrow…), and had an epic adventure at the post office trying to figure out if there was a book rate, and which boxes I could pack books in to get said book rate. They had no medium-sized boxes (standard for book rate), so I had to buy a bunch of small boxes. I bought three, but only used two…so I don’t know if I’m just going to leave that third box behind, or if I’ll need it for a few things I may not be able to fit into my suitcases…I don’t know. I’ll keep you all posted.

I still can’t believe how fast this semester went by. Saturday is coming way too fast. =(

Oh, one last thing: Pictures of the Bath Christmas Markets, plus pictures of my friends and I in our regency dresses can be found here!: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2069239&id=1381410057&l=df86225192

• Went to the Post Office and shipped a box of things off to the jolly ol’ US of A.

• Was told that I can’t e-mail my CrWr applications for next semester to the department, but I have to hand them in.  In person.  I explained that it was an awfully long swim from here to Oberlin, and the papers might not survive the journey.  I was then told that I had to recruit a friend to print them out and hand them in for me.  Thank you, nonsensical Oberlin bureaucracy that I went abroad to avoid in the first place, you’re doing a fantastic job of welcoming me back in your usual style.

• Slammed my head against the computer screen as I tried to understand what it was I wanted to say for my Beast, Big Brother final.

• Panicked that I now need to finish my CrWr apps before I start my finals, because they have to be e-mailed to someone in a different time zone that does not allow for my need to put this off so they can still be handed in on time (even though I technically get 5 more hours to do them…).  Thank you, Ben Ferber, for helping me with this!

• Hand-wrote my outlines for my Beast, Big Brother final.

• Went out to buy some dinner, since we have no food and not enough time left to warrant real grocery shopping.

• Posted this blog to avoid actually finishing my CrWr apps that are currently my worst enemy.

…In that order.

Where, oh, where has this semester gone?  The last week has arrived (I’m counting Sunday as the beginning of the week).  To be honest, I’m heartbroken.  I’ve had such an amazing time this semester with some truly amazing people, and it’s hard to let it go.  It’s hard for me to really comprehend that I’m going to be in New York on Saturday…something about that doesn’t make sense or seem right.  Of course, I was sent two pictures of my Christmas tree last night from Uncle Paul, and that made me excited to go home and decorate/have Christmas.  But after all that, can’t I come back here?

On the other hand, I had the pleasure of watching Mac Sundin’s Turkish ExCo final on Facebook just a little bit ago, and it reminded me how much I can’t wait to get back into my Oberlin bubble for a little bit longer.

Basically, I’m feeling sort of conflicted and lost about this whole experience.  I don’t mean to sound melodramatic in any way, but, in the words of YouTube sensation Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, “I mean, well, that’s just – that’s just how it looks right now.”

But enough of that depressing nonsense! Let me tell you about what’s been going on since I last wrote to you all.  The first awesome thing: I MADE CHOCOLATE CREAM PIE BY MYSELF!  And by ‘by myself’ I mean with Rachel, but specifically I mean without my mom.  Which was simultaneously sad and super exciting.  I must say, if there’s one thing I’ve learned this semester (and there are many more than that, but…), it’s that, should I ever decide to settle down and have a family, my children will not starve.  They might be very fat and sick of Italian food, but they won’t starve.  Anyway, back to the pie: I don’t have a nut chopper or food processor over here, so I had to finely chop the chocolate by hand.  I chopped it as tiny as I could, and then put all the chocolate into a ziplock bag and smashed it with the handle of a knife.  For a very long time.  And it wouldn’t really get small enough.  But I got it as small as possible and just resigned myself to the fact that I might have a slightly lumpy pudding.  Anyway, I put all the dry ingredients together, gradually poured the milk, and started stirring.  It successfully became pudding.  And then:

DUN DUN DUN…I HAD TO TEMPER THE EGGS.

I had been dreading this for about a week, because I desperately didn’t want to end up with scrambled eggs and pudding.  I’m pleased to report that I was successful on my first try, and no scrambled eggs were made!  And I should also report that I successfully made two pie crusts by my lonesome and they baked quite successfully as well!  And, the most important part, it tasted really good.  I’m super duper proud, and also worried about the implications of my now well-publicized/bragged-about success on future Thanksgivings (i.e., “Sasha, we’ve humored you by making this infuriating pie for years; if you can do it so well, YOU DO IT ALONE.”).  But I suppose that’ll have to be okay…because I love this pie too much.

Yesterday, Rachel and I decided to head out on one last British adventure.  We hopped the train to Bradford-on-Avon to check it out (the hometown of Andrew Butterworth!).  It was teeny tiny!  But very cute.  We had a lovely lunch and tea in a building that looked like it belonged in Hogsmeade, and walked around their Christmas market for a bit.  It was relaxing, fun, and delicious!  And only 10 minutes away from Bath.  When we got back, we basically just procrastinated until dinner (Indian food!) and then watched The Holiday as a flat along with Kate and Vanessa.  Overall, a very wonderful last full Saturday in England.

Today, I made scrambled eggs, Rachel made sausage, Vanessa made beer bread, and we had Savoy tea for breakfast!  It was really delicious and fun.  I made some comment about how the next time we did this we should…

But I stopped myself, because I’m not sure there’ll be another ‘big breakfast’ in Flat 4.  Maybe on Friday.  We’ll see. =)

Oh, also, you may have noticed that I have nothing to tell you about a Jane Austen event this weekend.  That’s because the alternate event to the cancelled event was also cancelled.  BOO.  At least we never actually paid admission to anything, just for the dresses.  But the ASE staff has begged us to wear our regency dresses to the final tea, and the Jane Austen Dancers also asked us to wear them to class this Wednesday.  So they’ll be used.  Also, I’m going to be a Regency Dancer for Halloween every year for…ever.

So, for now, dear readers, I must leave you, as this is not only our last week in Bath, but also our finals week.  Cruel, right?  I couldn’t agree more.  So I have to go outline my Beast, Big Brother final (two essay questions in two hours…UGH…) and also sneak out to the Christmas Markets one last time (they close for the year today at 6; sad!).

I’ll be sure to keep track of everything happening this week, because it’s a busy one, and I don’t want to forget anything. =) I’ll be in touch once or twice more before heading home on Saturday at the crack of dawn.

Oh, hello, dear readers!  I hardly know you anymore it seems.  But I charged into hell week(s) and have made it out alive on the other side, alive enough to report back to you once again.

Much has happened since we last spoke!  Mainly measured with the unit of ‘written pages.’  I have completed, this semester (more specifically, this past weekend) the longest piece of academic writing I have ever done: yes, on Monday afternoon, I handed in all 43 pages of my internship dissertation.

I’ll say it again. Fourty-three pages.  Please feel free to clap, whistle, bow down, etc.

But in all seriousness, I’m sort of proud of it (I won’t be until someone else reads it), and mostly just relieved the damn thing is written and handed in.  I’m told I’ll have it back by tomorrow lunch time (further proving that Andrew Butterworth = God for editing a 43-page paper in essentially a day, as he only picked it up this morning) so that I can make any necessary edits and hand the thing in once and for all to be bound with a spiral and presented to me as a souvenir of my time at ASE.  At least that’s how I, the hopeless romantic, am going to think of it. If Oberlin doesn’t give me academic credit for this thing, heads will roll, I tell you!

Now then, I have several bits and bobs to tell you about (see, I can use these phrases now, because as of today, I’m certified culturally enriched! 

…yeah…whatever that shiny piece of paper means.  I see it as giving me the right to say ‘bits and bobs.’).  Let’s go way back, first, to my trip to London with Mom and Trevor.  Yes, I know, didn’t I already tell you about that?  Well, I glossed over some things, as I was in a silly emotional state and, frankly, entirely too sleepy to be blogging.  So, dear readers, I want to inform you of how we got to the wonderfully lavish Savoy Hotel.  First of all, after the wonderful ASE Thanksgiving Dinner, Mom, Trevor, and I drove to London.  And by that I mean my mother drove two hours to Heathrow Airport so we could return the car and take a taxi to the Savoy from there (avoid city traffic!).  So we return the car just fine around 1:30 in the morning, at which point the Hertz guy offered to call a cab to come get us at the Hertz place.  We originally planned to go to the main terminal and get a taxi from the queue, but we figured, hey, this is more convenient.

Well.

This driver spoke *no* English, practically.  He knew enough to tell Trevor that his back was too bad to lift bags, so Trevor had to load the entire car while that stupid man stood there watching him.  Okay, odd, but fine.  Then we get into the taxi and tell him we’re going to the Savoy.

His response: “The what?”

He had no clue what this hotel was.  Now, for a taxi driver to not know this hotel is…well, it doesn’t happen.  It’s the most famous hotel in London.  Like, if you’re a taxi driver, you should freakin’ know what the Savoy is.  Okay, fine, weird, whatever, he programs his GPS to the hotel’s address (which he needed repeated to him something like 45 times) and we start driving.

The GPS is telling him when to go straight, turn, etc., like GPS’ do.  Except when he does something correct, his GPS moos at him.

I’ll say that again.  It moos at him.  Like, a cow.  It moos.

Loudly.

So, at first, it’s just weird.  But when we start circling London for two hours looking for the Savoy, it was just annoying.  The damn thing would moo in congratulations every time he turned, and we just kept getting further and further away from the hotel.  So I whip my iPhone out and turn on the data to use my GPS.  What I’m sure cost $530,948,302.38 per minute later, I found the hotel on my GPS.  But would the taxi driver listen to me?  No.  He asked Trevor if he should listen to me.  Sexist pig.  So we went in circles and circles and he wouldn’t listen.

When we eventually found the hotel (thanks to my iPhone, not this abomination of a human being or his mooing GPS), Mom paid him.  And he said it wasn’t enough.

You know when smoke comes out of those cartoon characters’ ears ‘cause they’re mad?  Yeah.  That was me.  So I took another £10, slammed it in his hand and screamed, “Worst cab ride ever, by the way!” and flipped him off.  So we got to the Savoy by 3:45 in the morning.  From Heathrow.  Yeah.  That’s that story.  I told it correctly, so I’m giving myself a congratulatory ‘moo.’

Anyway, after my lovely weekend, I essentially drowned in work for a while.  But now that I’m out of all that, things can start being fun in my last 11-10 days (ugh, SAD) here.  For instance, the Jane Austen ball!  My dress arrived, and it’s a gorgeous blue.  Rachel and I were examining hair styles and considering sashes and long white gloves for accessories.  And then I get an e-mail: “Longbourn Ball Cancelled due to Extreme Weather Conditions.”  Oh, England.  Yes, it is flurrying; no, that’s not the sky falling down.  These are not extreme weather conditions!  But what can you do?  They have informed us that there is an alternate ‘event’ (not really a ball anymore) for the same price we’d pay anyway, and we technically get more food for the alternate event…so we’ll go and be not quite as happy, but it’ll be fun anyway.

And while we’re discussing extreme weather conditions: England really cannot handle snow.  At all.  Last Thursday when I was heading to my internship, I literally ice skated down the roads.  They have no clue how to shovel or salt roads/sidewalks!  There was maybe a quarter of an inch of snow on the ground, but the streets were un-walkable, and the trash collection was cancelled for the week.  So, I was going towards the train stations, as I was saying, to head to my internship.  The sidewalk to the station is tilted down towards the road at a rather severe angle, so it’s awkward to walk on anyway.  But with ice and slush, it’s impossible.  I literally kept sliding down into the street!  At one point, I was sliding so quickly that I grabbed onto a street light pole to steady myself, but I just slid in a full circle around the pole.  The one other person on the street at that hour guffawed at me, and I can’t say I blame him; I was laughing at myself!  So I started walking on the road, which is rather level, and I’m pleased to report I made it to the station with little other incident.

In other news, I made baked ziti for dinner this past Sunday in celebration of finishing a draft of my dissertation!  All by myself, Ma!  I had gone out earlier that day to buy ingredients, and when it came time to assemble the cheese mixture, I noticed that I was a bit short on ricotta.  No problem, I thought, I’ll just run out to Marks and Spencer to buy more on Sunday evening at 5:15.

Problem: the store closes at 5 on Sundays.

All right, I thought, I’ll go to Sainsbury’s Local, open until 11.  No problem.

Problem: They had no ricotta in stock.

All right, I thought again, I’ll take a walk over to Waitrose on the other side of the Abbey.  No problem.

Problem: CLOSED.

I went to three other stores (the only other three grocery stores I know of in my part of Bath), and whatever wasn’t closed didn’t sell ricotta cheese.  I don’t know what the conspiracy against ricotta cheese is over here, but it is not okay with me.

Turns out that I didn’t really need more ricotta, because the ziti was plenty cheesy (though I should also probably mention that they had no ziti, so it was really baked rigatoni…).  Three hours after beginning the cooking process (I also made a new batch of sauce), we finally had baked ziti(rigatoni).  And it was damn good, too, as fraudulent/poorly constructed as it would be to a professional eye.

And random: Thanks to the wonders that are the Bath Christmas Markets Stalls, I’ve now had three mince pies total in my time over here, and they are delicious! I’ll miss them and clotted cream back in the States.

This week is my last week of classes.  Technically, I’m done already, as my two classes that meet on Tuesdays are now done, and I only have a quick meeting to pick up my final portfolio from my fiction tutor tomorrow.  So…yeah, I’m practically half-way through Junior Year now.  When did that happen!?

So, in summary, things are crazy and great here.  So great that I’m having a hard time coping with the fact that I’ll be home next week.  I just…don’t want to leave!  Or I’ll leave, fine, but can’t I come back after Christmas?  Pwease?

P.S.

The title quotation is from today’s Certificate of Cultural Enrichment concluding meeting.  We were talking about the British obsession with queuing. Lindsay explained that, in Italy, she felt very stressed at the deli counter because she…well, you read the quote already. =)