Recent Adventures

I know that most of you are only reading this post for a recap of my royal wedding experience, so I'll spare you the updates on my erryday life and jump right into the excitement.

I have been sick for over a week now and only got my voice back on Thursday, so when 6 am Friday rolled around I was less than enthusiastic. Madee (my visitor) and I headed out regardless to meet up with my PIC Allison, and from there we headed to Buckingham Palace to claim a spot and await the mayhem.

We planted ourselves in the grass outside the palace, making sure we could see the balcony, at around 730. Two Redbulls and two M&S wraps later I was feeling much better (or at least much more alert). We sat and talked until about 10:00-ish and from then on we found ourselves standing, talking with our wedding day friends sitting around us. The wedding started at 11 and although we didn't have a screen to watch we did have the audio to listen to. I have never in my life been a part of such an overwhelmingly silent crowd. An amazing hush fell over everyone on the lawn as we listened to them reciting their vows, only breaking the silence for periodic outbursts of clapping and cheering.

The crowd grew ansty, knowing that shortly the couple would make their way to Buckingham and walk out onto the balcony for their first official kiss. People started pouring in from all directions, crowding and cramming, but luckily my view of the balcony somehow remained intact. The couple emerged, kissed (twice, how daring!) and the family came out as well. Patriotic British tunes were sung and in the not too far distance you could hear the bells of Westminster tolling. It was, in the most corny of ways, magical.





My favorite parts of the whole experience? Well firstly it would have to be the people watching. London is rarely patriotic so it was funny to see the cup of British patriotism running-eth over. Two girls next to us wore red shirts reading, "Keep Calm, Harry is Still On," which I thought were hysterical. A group of men directly in front of us not only brought a picnic blanket and snacks, but chilled champagne with strawberries to toast with once the couple was officially wed. (Champagne bottles were popping all around us actually.) Women in Sunday hats were plentiful as well, always making for a good distraction.

But my most favorite part? Regardless of how silly this sounds, standing on the lawn outside Buckingham yesterday I realized that this was the first time in my entire life that I had been a part a positive part of history. Back home all of our recent historical moments (aside from Obama being elected) have been those of a negative association: Columbine, VT, 9/11. And I wasn't even actually present at any of those events (thank goodness I suppose). But yesterday was a moment that will be documented and written about the world over. I know that a lot of the UK dislikes the royal family but yesterday, in that one moment when they stood on the balcony, it was as if everyone around me was proud to be British.

Our parents and grandparents all have those moments in history where they can remember exactly where they were and what they were doing. Pearl Harbor, The Great Depression, Kennedy's death. This was one of those moments for me, except I'm lucky enough to have it be a happy one.

I think I may never leave.

Sex, Violence, and Fear: A Late Night Ramble

Don't go and get too excited yet readers; if you expect this post to be entirely about things of the kinkier kind, go ahead and go back to watching Hulu (damn you stateside friends).

I will admit that over the past two weeks I have been catching up on episodes of 30 Rock, and by catch up I mean I have been watching all five seasons in their entirety. I depressingly enough realized (by season 3) that I am Liz Lemon and sort of developed a joking banter about the subject with my friend Allison. Many of the episodes focus on the fact that Liz lives alone and "fails" at relationships, and often times the show jokes about the dangers a woman faces living by herself (i.e. choking to death or slipping in the shower). This alone would not cause me to post an entire blog dedicated to a specific "feminine" subject. So let's continue.

Scre4m (Scream 4 for those who prefer non-stupid text) was recently released and after watching the trailer alone in my apartment I came to a very shocking realization: scary movies are no longer enjoyable now that I live alone. The trailer itself scared me so much that I had to watch quite a few more episodes of 30 Rock before I could fall asleep (no need to tell me how pathetic this is; I already know), and then got me to thinking.

Living on my own I find myself to either be constantly terrified or constantly triple checking my surroundings so that I will not be terrified. I admittedly will cross the street when I see a group of men ahead of me on the sidewalk at night, and always walk with my keys firmly between my fingers after a night out downtown. As a woman I am constantly reminded of how dangerous my existence is, especially if I am alone. TV shows like 30 Rock not only joke about the potential dangers I face (as if men living alone don't risk choking to death or slipping in the bath) but also mock female characters who live a (mainly) solitary life.

Movies always warn us of our potential (or inevitable?) demise; its always joked that the first to die in slasher movies are black people and slutty women. More specifically, two recently released movies specifically deal with the topic of the vulnerability of women: The Resident and The Roommate. (It should be noted that both of these titles also succeed in removing the personal [noun] and replacing it with a thing, but I won't ge too caught up in this) Both movies not only portray violence against the main female characters as an inevitability, but also hypersexualize it. The movie category "thriller" exemplifies this. As opposed to the category of "horror" which brings to mind only the subject of fear, the category "thriller" gives the viewer not only the chance to be scared but the chance to be thrilled. The prevalence of excitement alongside fear is arguably what makes these movies seem so attractive to large populations of people.

This is all not to say that I think scary movies are sexist or should involve situations of sexuality and violence against men. The fact that movies and television tell these tales of hypersexualized violence against women makes it seem like something that is impossible for a woman to escape. Living alone in London, I find myself sometimes thinking more along the lines of when I will be attacked and less along the lines of if. And after being followed home two weeks after I moved here I quickly realized that unfortunately I could easily be that weak female target (let's face it, I'm five foot three and couldn't seriously hurt anyone over the age of thirteen). Add to that London's differing view on self defense (there is literally no weapon that I can carry with me, not even pepper spray) and really I am a walking target sign. I don't want this to scare my parents or make you all think I am crazy; I reasonably know that as long as I am prepared, smart, and safe, I will be just fine. But that, to me, is just it. There ARE women who ARE prepared, smart, and safe. There are women who know how to handle themselves and don't fit into this category of a vulnerable weak woman, susceptible to attack, who aren't afraid of choking to death in their apartment and aren't depressed that they haven't found "the one;" but these women are rarely shown. It's the fact that we have to be this woman that is always prepared, because the only other type of woman that exists is the one left vulnerable to physical and sexual assault, that has been bothering me recently.

This has gone on long enough. It's midnight here and I have to get up at 6:45 for another joyous day at the nursery. I'm sure I have now scared all of you into thinking that I am constantly on the verge of assault, but I promise I take the utmost caution when I go out at night and am very safe. I know this will all come off as just another feminist rant, but honestly, its more than that. These things were things I never even gave a second thought to before now and, to me, anything I don't think about deserves to be discussed. Not thinking is never good in my book.

[For those of you disappointed that I didn't update you on my British life: be patient. I will post again shortly. After some much needed sleep]

21 Degrees

Today was my nicest day in London thus far. Not only did I get up before 11:00 in the morning, but I worked on a project (productivity) and then ate lunch and sat outside in the beautiful weather with friends. Flights were also officially booked today for Chicago, meaning I am one step closer to being back in the land of the free and the home of the brave and the gloriousness of the midwest. The pieces of my English life are starting to fall into place.

My wonderful friend Marisa managed to find us both part time jobs at a nursery so I can play with adorable babies and we can both save money for deep dish pizza and Michigan Ave shopping in Chicago (she's my roommate for the trip). I currently have one week left of classes before Easter Holiday (meaning one day left of classes) and then my sistafran Madee will be here to explore Paris with me. Add to that the Royal Wedding on the 29th and the fact that I am determined to hunt Kathy Griffin down like a dog, and April is really starting to look pretty fantastic.

Unfortunately I type this with no insightful ideas in mind, no quirky (hehe get it Emily and Matt) stories to tell, no retelling of recent epiphanies; but I think that's kind of nice. It's like my life here is normal now, not in the sense that I'm taking any of it for granted or that London has lost its magic, but like I'm no longer wondering what my life will be like here once it starts, because it already has.

Oh also, shout out to the lovely, vocally talented Alison DiTommaso on this joyous day of her birth. You're one of my favorite people and I wish I could be home to grab a coffee or take you to dinner and a movie at Movie Tavern, and especially to accompany you to THE Olive Garden to watch you enjoy an unhealthy amount of Italian food that I jealously can no longer eat. Have a breadstick or twelve for me my love, and I will see you in June. French fries and beer at Lucky's will be happening before you know it.