Today I got on the bus headed for Denver at 732. At 805 I stepped on and started walking uphill to work. As I pulled out my phone to check the time (yes that's right, my very own cell phone, I'm back in the 21st century) I learned that my boss is home sick today and I don't need to be at work. So, I turned around and jumped back on the bus for Boulder. My job is going well. I have learned tons, realized how slow I've become at autocad over the last year, and caught a glimpse of life in a design firm. Since my beginning as an interior designer I've worked for architects. I don't know why, I just have. And each time I am reminded that I do not want to be an architect. There is something missing there. Call me crazy but spending my day specifying gyp board and encasing I-beams just doesnt' do it for me. Almost every day I am caught with the profound realization that I am actually drawing something that someday someone will use. Someday, these monotonous guestroom drawings will actually be used by someone....someone staying at the hilton while they're in columbus, ohio will actually sleep in that room. very odd. Meanwhile, Ross has decided he is going to back to school for architecture. We're so cliche aren't we? the architect and the designer. I'm not complaining though, because just talking about it seems to make him happy. And that's all that matters.

the t-word

Yesterday my boss Melanie asked me if I was ready for this next transition in my life. I asked her if she's ever ready for transitions in her life because I can't think of a single one that I really felt "ready" for. Today was my last day working as a barista at Organica. I would say that maybe it was my last day working as a barista, but let's be honest, that would probably be too bold. I feel like I'm stepping slightly into the unknown here. I am leaving a full-time dependable coffee job for a part-time, not sure how long it's gonna last, design job. But, amidst all the unknown, I can't help but feel at peace about it all.
My time at Organica has been good. I can't complain about the way I've spent the last two months. And although Melanie, the therapist-turned-coffee-shop-owner, is now threatening to charge me for her advice, I plan to stay in touch with that part of my life. So here I am, at the brink of a transition....or still in the middle of a transition that has been going on since I stepped on the westbound plane out of London-just at another step in the process.

About a month ago my Uncle Hank was in town and he questioned why I had stopped blogging. I didn't have a good excuse except that I had nothing to blog about. But as soon as those words were voiced I heard my sixth grade lit teacher telling me that we all have something to write about, we just have to accept that and decide to write. So here I am, I'm trying to decide.

On the road...

Just a quick update....
Our trip is going amazingly! We spent a week in Spain with our friends from London, visiting Sevilla, Cordoba, Granada, and Barcelona. For the most part everything went without complication...besides a cancelled night train that put us on a 12 hour train ride to Barcelona during the day, and a dirty hostel that left us less than excited about spending the next five weeks in hostels (details when we get home). Ross and I split from the rest of the group yesterday and made our way to Italy....another 25 hours straight on the train, we were excited to get here. We are in Cinque Terre right now, 5 small villages on the Italian Riviera. It is a lesser known vacation destination and it is AMAZING!! Today we hiked the five villages, climb rocks, dipped our feet in the mediterranean...unbeleivable. We found a small room up a thousand stairs that has views into the apartment next door and the italian rooftops....its great. and we bought a bottle of chianti for 3 euro. i love italy.
tomorrow we are off to sorrento. another long train day, but it wil be broken up by a stop in pisa.

Hope that keeps everyone up to date a little on our travels. It is wonderful to hear from you whenever we get the chance to check email!

and we're off

Believe it or not I actually packed up my life. For the next five weeks everything I own is fitting on my back. 4 shirts. 5 weeks. It could get interesting.
Ross and I leave tomorrow. Five of weeks of holiday. It's pretty amazing.

The abbreviated version of our trip:
19 April - 26 April Spain
27 April - 3 May Italy
4 May - 18 May Egypt
18 May - 23 May Greece
24 May Colorado

I will try to update the blog as much as possible, but internet time could be scarce in parts. Until then.....

that time already?

I can't really believe that I'm writing this blog. It's hard for me to imagine that my time in London is almost over. My last day of work is on Thursday. My second cousin Charissa is studying in Northern Ireland this semester and will be visiting London this weekend. I'm looking forward to having an excuse to revisit my favorite sights one more time. As my stay in London is drawing to a close I'm finding myself reflecting on the past six months. It's sort of bittersweet right now. I really do like life here, and I think that with a few small improvements I could really get used to being here for an extending amount of time. Alas, I knew from the beginning that there would come an end, and though I am sad to leave I am excited to travel, and excited to see what comes next in life. It doesn't help that I've been reading "Notes from a Small Island," a travel memoir by Bill Bryson. It's the story of Bryson, an American who takes a trip around England as a sort of farewell to the country he's lived in for 20 years, before returning to the states. Reading his reflections on his love affair with Britain makes me feel a bit nostalgic myself, and yes, I do realize that 6 months is nothing compared to two decades. But still, he has inspired me. And so, bear with me because this may take a few posts, but I'm attempting to put my own "leaving thoughts" down on paper.

On Saturday night Ross and I went out to dinner at a Japanese restaurant near Piccadilly Circus. We got into a discussion about London moments...those tiny aha-moments when you realize that this is actually your life. I get these realizations often, especially here. I'll be on a bus and hear a kid behind me say something to his mum in a tiny little english accent. Or I'll be walking home and find a quaint street that I never knew existed. On our way home from the restaurant that night we took a shortcut to the bus stop and walked through Trafalgar Square. The fountains were lit and Big Ben was glowing in the distance. Almost simultaneously, we both said, "yeah, this is one of those moments."

After doing some keen mapquest investigating I've come to find out that I walk .9 miles to work, one way. From my flat to the grocery store/tube stop is another mile. So, on any given day when I walk to and from work, and to and from the store or to the tube (which actually is most days of the week), I walk 4 miles. That's not to mention lunch, bad planning when we walk from the tube home, then back to the store, then to the movie theatre, or any other combination of locations. I love walking around the city. Sure it's cold and windy, and rainy sometimes. But it allows a lot time during the day to think, or listen to music, or just breathe fresh air-well as fresh as it gets in smog city. I keep hoping that I'll keep walking this much when I get home, but for some reason hiking down Baselline just doesn't sound as appealing as Kensington High Street.

I always laugh a little about how I have to describe Colorado - "it's somewhere between Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon" British are fascinated by the idea of visiting America and taking a road trip - the idea of driving in one direction for more than five hours without hitting water sounds so glamorous to them. My boss Charles told me that he has a dream of renting an rv and driving across the states. He told me that he expects a traditional American backyard barbeque when he comes.

I have learned to make a really good cup of tea. Even Ross will agree.

Um, yes, that's right, those are his and her jackets......seriously REI should be paying us to be models. It's a little bit ridiculous sometimes.
Last night my boss invited Ross and I over for dinner. It was a small gesture - take away curry shared with him and his two sons - but I felt very privileged by it.

Roma

Okay, short story.....Italy was AMAZING! I love it there. I mean, cappucino, pizza, wine, and gelato, not to mention unbelievable art and architecture....what's not to love?! We decided that we didn't have enough time in Rome so Ross and I are cutting a day out of France and going back....hope we don't like other places that much or else we might not ever make it back home. And now, since everyone keeps asking me for pictures......
(I can't get the explanations to sit with the pictures on the page, but they start in Rome and move to Florence)

blogs

There's something rather stalker-ish about reading people's blogs. The other day during a stint of boredom at work I started searching blogs and came across a whole list of Calvin Crest people who blog. Now I realize I only worked at Calvin Crest for one summer 4 years ago, hardly worthy of claiming any sort of loyalty to the camp considering that many people consider it their childhood home....but still it was fun to find so many blogs of people I once knew. I looked around a little, read a little here, a little there. And now, wham! I'm totally hooked. I realize that by posting anything on the internet you're making it free game and so I shouldn't feel like I'm invading privacy by reading it. I guess I'm just still in denial that anyone really cares to take the time to read this thing besides my mother. Anyway, I can't help it, I may as well admit it...I'm a blog addict. At least it helps pass the time some days.
There's something incredible happening in London....light in the evening. It's now 5:21 pm and I can still see St. Paul's perfectly. Last night I left work at 6 and it was still light when I got home - amazing! So much better than the absolute darkness at 3 pm that we were experiencing. Ross just sent me a text that we're going to see Billy Elliot on Tuesday. I'm quite excited.

five weeks

I ate the most amazing japanese food ever on Friday. I've always loved waitresses at japanese restaurants because they thank you for everything. "I'll have a tap water" "ok, tap water, thank you!" and then they bow and walk away. I mean, you just can't leave that place in a bad mood. I can't decide if being in the service industry here would be amazing or horrible, or probably most likely, a combination of the two. First of all, you get no tips. So honestly, what's the point? Although that leads to the complete lack of service and good moods in restaurants/pubs/stores/everything here. Today I walked into a furniture store on an errand for my boss and in the window was a sign for a sales associate needed. I walked in and found a completely empty store except for three sales associates sitting around the front desk drinking tea. Not a single one of them said anything to me. They barely looked up from their conversation. I mean really, it has to be kind of great. No smiles. No fake small talk. The customer is never right, because really the customer is barely even a person.
Ross and I bought tickets to Spain. The big adventure begins 19 April. London to Seville for only 20 pounds. Amazing.

mondays

I don't know what my deal is today, but I just can't get out of the Monday funk. I'm pretty bored at work today, there's not really any work for me...which is probably adding to my problem. My friends Trace and Stephanie are leaving London on Saturday. They're going to be travelling for the next six weeks or so and then going back home to Michigan in early May. Ross and I are hoping to meet up with them in Spain, the beginning of our travels and the end of theirs. I met Trace and Andy at orientation for bunac (they both like to brag that I gave them my number, but really that was just because they were too lazy to have mobile phones at that point and didn't have numbers to give me), they quickly became my first friends here. It's hitting me more than I thought it would that they are leaving so soon. For so long I was just trying to settle in and get used to living in London, and now all of a sudden it's almost time to be thinking about going home again. It's strange to start anything when you know there is an absolute endpoint. When I entered the country on October 20 I knew that I would have to leave on April 20, I would have no choice. I'm trying to experience everything I can while I'm here and use this short amount of time as much as I can, but at the same time I can't help but feel a little bit torn. Life over here seems surreal very often. I can't help but feel like it's make-believe sometimes. I find myself thinking that the real world will really begin after I go home. Ross and I got into a conversation about student loans last night which defenitely added to the whole "real world" dread. We both know that we really want to travel and know that this is the best time for it, but there's always that little voice inside our heads that wonders how we're going to pay rent when we get home.
I finally read the last Harry Potter. Now Julie has to stop making fun of me for being a slow Harry reader. But now I'm at a complete loss as to what to read next. Ross and I scoured the bargain table at Borders and picked up Gilead because he swore he'd heard it was good....I only made it 80 pages. I couldn't handle reading about growing up on a farm in Kansas. Any good suggesstions??

good food, bad art

We did a lot of eating and art viewing this weekend. Friday night we met our friends Kate and John for Indian food on Brick Lane in East London. The host at the restaurant told us that he told the chef to make our meals extra-tasty; we were a little worried what "extra-tasty" meant for a table of Americans, but he stayed true to his word, it was quite delicious. Saturday morning Ross and I went to Jamie Oliver's restaurant "fifteen" for breakfast. I spent Thanksgiving at Fifteen with my family but had never been there for breakfast, and Ross hadn't been at all. It was a truly lovely way to start the day, and we couldn't help but notice that it was the same price as going out to Luciles. I'd pick Jamie Oliver's any day. With our stomachs full we had to take advantage of the clear blue sky (a rarity in London in February), and headed over to St. Paul's Cathedral. We climbed the 529 steps up to the top of the dome where we found amazing views of London, and incredible wind!

We heard from someone about an exhibition at the Tate Modern at 10 pm Saturday night. We had no idea what it was, but figured we would check it out nonetheless. The exhibition was actually a performance by a guy called Jonathan Meese. He was standing in a boxing ring, with several odd props (mannequins, plastic skeletons, random helmets and costumes) thrown around the ring, strange cartoon/child-like drawings hanging all around, and loud trumpety music playing, similar to what you would hear on a filmstrip in history class about world war 2. There was a projection screen behind the ring that was displaying a closed circuit film of the performance in the ring. Obviously an outcry of some sort against politics, authority, and namely Nazi Germany, he was yelling into a microphone in half english-half german. He was clearly strung-out on something, or possibly many things...he kept falling over and swaying in and out holding on to the ropes on the ring. The whole time he was yelling profanities into the mic, the only part I really picked up on was when he was holding a book up and yelling "this book is shisa, this book is shisa!" A lot of things were shisa to him. I felt really creeped out by him and the whole vibe in the room, so we didn't stay for very long.
Now, going to art school we've seen some strange things that people call art. I know that it is a personal expression, and art is completely different to each person, but there are times when I feel like we have to draw the line. The first time I came to London I remember the Tate Modern being this amazing gallery of world-class modern art; but now when I've gone back I've been incredibly disappointed and often confused. I find myself wondering why he can do a lot of drugs and yell profanities and get a private show at the Tate Modern, when I saw a woman last week in the tube doing the exact same thing. Everyone just gave her bad looks and took a few steps away. Why is she any different? I'm sure it's an age-old question of why one thing is considered art and another thing isn't, but I find myself wondering about it a lot.

Tomorrow is Pancake Day. It's been on our office diary for weeks now, and I keep wondering about it. Today someone brought it up in conversation and I asked why it's called Pancake Day. "Because you eat pancakes that day" was the only reply. Finally they remembered that it's what you do the day before Lent starts.

up north

First of all, I'm sorry for the lack of posts lately. I don't have a good excuse except that the last few weeks have been fairly busy. I've been meaning to post for some time now, considering that we've gone on trips for the last three weekends, and I want a record of these happenings for myself as much as I want you all to know about my life over here. Hopefully I'll get around to sharing some stories soon, but for now I should focus on the task at hand. The short version of the last few weeks is....a trip to Canterbury and Dover where we saw the Canterbury Cathedral, Dover Castle, and the white cliffs. The next weekend we went to Liverpool with Trace and Stephanie....our original intention was to visit the Lake District, but do to engineering maintenance on the tracks the train wasn't running for the weekend. So we made the best of it and enjoyed Liverpool, learning a lot about the Beatles' beginnings. This weekend was a much more exciting trip since Ross and I got to go to Sweden to visit our dear friends the Ordells.

As our plane descended through the clouds into Stockholm on Friday evening Ross and I couldn't help but notice that the snow-covered forest below had an amazing resemblence to Narnia...there was a very cold looking purple color in the air, and we couldn't help but wonder what we were thinking visiting Sweden in February. We were pleasantly surprised, however, upon stepping out of the plane, it wasn't as bad as it looked and we were incredibly blessed with beatiful sunshine all weekend. Arriving in Motalla we started the weekend on the right foot with a warm glass of glugg (I don't know how to spell that on an English computer, but it's very similar to mulled wine, and delicious), and then settled in with the opening ceremonies of the olympics. Saturday promised to be a very full day so Sven prepared us a traditional Swedish breakfast of porridge and lingenberry jam. The breakfast was delicious, and would have been even better if Ross and I had remembered to set our alarm clock to Sweden time and not woken up an hour late. oops. After breakfast we drove across town to Anders and Maude's new house, then Anders gave us a tour of the police station where he works. We also got the full tour of Motalla and the canal, then Ross and I joined Ulla on a walk through the shops downtown and then back home. That afternoon Tore and Anna came over with their son Carl, possibly the most adorable Swedish-Korean little guy ever. We had coffee and cakes and then went for a walk along the water, down to the lighthouse...don't worry, it was only -2 celsius. I think we were all a little jealous of Carl's mode of transportation-a fur lined sled pulled by Tore. Saturday evening Anders taught Ross and I how to eat Crayfish....we both caught them in streams when we were little, but never ate them. Then we had moose-meat for dinner. It was a whole day of "firsts" for us as far as eating goes. After dinner Anders took us over to his house where we hung out with his girlfriend Maude and two of their friends. We played a new game that they had just gotten, very similar to Taboo, except in Swedish. So, while the four of them had a chance to practice their English for the night, Ross and I each had a translator who would translate the word into English for us to describe to our partner. It was quite the process, but a very good time.

Sunday was a very special day...that's right, we went to Ikea. It seemed wrong to go to Sweden without visiting its most famous landmark. Ulla and Anders drove us and we met Tore, Anna, and Carl there. After Ikea Sven and Ulla took us to Vadstena to see the monastery and castle, and we had a wienerschnitzel lunch at a local restaurant there. Sunday night was very special entertainment with a personal slide show of their travels in Egypt and Yemen, as well as the 7-week road trip in 1968 that Ulla and my mom took across the U.S in a little red vw bug. It looked like quite the adventure. Surpsingly, some slides from Tore's summer in the states also surfaced....luckily Ross only got to see one picture of nine-year old amanda walking the streets of New York in a neon pink baseball hat and a fanny pack. Why my parents let me out of the house looking like that is still a mystery to me.

Monday morning began very early...we had to leave Motalla at 7 am to get to Linkopping to catch the bus to Stockholm. Our plan was to spend the day in Stockholm then catch the bus to the airport for our plane, leaving at 9:30 that night. Unfortunately we didn't have quite as good weather yesterday as we had the rest of the weekend....at 11 am it was -4 and it seemed to get colder as the day went on, the sun never came out. We had decided that we would try to see the art museums and the architecture museum, but when we got to the first one we realized that they are all closed on Mondays. A little lost as to what to do to fill the next 6 hours, we found a cafe in old town and got cappuccinos and sandwiches to warm ourselves up as we decided on our game plan. We went to the Wasa museum, which is dedicated to the Wasa Viking ship that sank in Stockholm's harbour over 300 hundred years ago and has now been recovered and restored. The evening was draining due to a lot of travelling...a 1.5 hour bus ride to the airport, then the flight was delayed, a 2 hour flight that got us back to London at 11:45, then the train into town wasn't operating due to mechanical operations so we had to take a replacement bus service that landed us at Liverpool Station (on the other side of London from our flat), at 1 am. Naturally the tube was shut down for the night and we were at the mercy of the night busses...always a scary thought. After waiting outside (which felt almost tropical after Stockholm) for 30 minutes the bus finally arrived, and 45 minutes later we were home, just over 19 hours after we got on the first bus of the day. Unfortunately when we got home we discovered that there had been a fire in my building staircase over the weekend and the carpet is now more of a pile of ashes than carpet. Luckily it was put out before it spread past the stairs; nothing and more importantly no one was hurt.

Overall it was a delightful weekend. It was great to spend time with the Ordells....it had been six years since I'd seen either Tore or Anders. It was amazing to have home-cooked meals- Ross especially enjoyed that. It was also really fun to see snow...in fact being in Motalla convinced Ross that he wants to live in a mountain town where it's cold and snowy all the time....he's still selling me on that one. We had a wonderful trip and we're very thankful for to our Swedish hosts. (by the way, congratulations if you made it all the way through this novel....work is boring today and I had to keep myself occupied.)

language barrier

On Friday I was ordering corrugated steel that will be used for wall cladding in a plant room. I did my research, called the appropriate manufacturers, and then reconvened with Rob and Liz (the director and project manager) to give them the results. "This company has corrugated aluminum," I told them, thinking nothing about my pronunciation. "Excuse me, aluminum?" Rob said, grinning. "Don't you mean aluminium?" (spoken al-you-min-ee-um). A long debate followed about which pronunciation was correct. He argued that theirs was clearly correct since there is an i between the n and u, causing the extra syllable. I was sure that our spelling did not include the extra i, making my pronunciation correct, which I was able to prove thanks to dictionary.com. I knew that third grade spelling bee championship would pay off at some time. There are several differences between our englishes...such as when I mention anything about a bathroom and they tell me that there isn't one in the office, there is however a toilet. Or the constant jokes that are made about my first week when I was sent to the store to buy biscuits and I returned with crackers, sure that I had side-stepped having to ask exactly what biscuits are....of course they meant cookies. Or my favorite, Sara, the American who's job I took over told me of her first day when one of the guys leaned over to her and asked for a rubber. Her face turned red, and she thought over the possible answers that she could give to this question, until finally, noticing the confusion on her face, he said, "you know, an eraser?" Whoever said that we speak the same language, obviously had no idea what they were talking about.

This weekend was one of the truly great weekends in London. The sun was actually shining for three days straight, and you would have thought that the entire city was on holiday. Everyone was outside enjoying the weather. Ross and I chose to celebrate by walking down to Portobello Road and buying some fresh veggies and bread at the market. Saturday night we cooked dinner for my flat-mate Morgan. It was a truly exceptional meal, even Sean and Julie would have been impressed. Well, maybe not Sean and Julie, but defenitely my mom; at least for cooking a meal without calling to ask her a question about it, if not for the food itself. Sunday we went to the Design Museum, an entire museum dedicated to the things we love. It was pretty great.

plotting

I'm sitting at work right now waiting for the drawings to plot that I need to send out to the engineers and contractors for Heat's big job right now. Waiting for prints is mindless for sure, but it allows me some time to update my blog, so I can't complain. I also can't complain because my waiting for drawings to print means that I've actually been doing some drawing while at work, which is a wonderful change. I was beginning to feel like I would explode if I had to make one more excel spreadsheet. However, after a six month break from designing anything, the glasses have come back out and I'm a CAD nerd once again. It's been an interesting transition getting used to this part of my job. Not only have I had to learn a completely new drafting program, but I have to learn to draw in milimeters. I usually sit with one window open of my drawing and another window of a website that converts measurements between milimeters and inches. Tonight one of the main contractors that we work with is taking our office out to dinner, sort of a belated holiday party. He is Indian and is taking us all to his local social club for a traditional Indian dinner. It should be interesting.
January in London is dark and grey. From my desk at work I have a perfect view of the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, except in January when there is so much fog that you can barely see down the block. I think it was a combination of the weather and my emotional exhaustion of being around people all the time that drove Ross and I to get out of London this last weekend. We really wanted to go to Paris, but it was last-minute and was going to cost too much. So, we decided to go to Oxford and the Cotswolds. We didn't spend much time in Oxford, because I had already been there and it was raining. We did go to Christ Church to see the Harry Potter sights, and had lunch at the pub where C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien spent their days. Saturday night we went stayed in a little b&b in Moreton-in-Marsh, the most accessible of the Cotswolds.

The Cotswolds are a cluster of little towns that are very quintessentially English. They all have funny names like Stow-in-the-Wold. There is a bus service that runs between the towns, except on Sunday when there is no transportation whatsoever. Somehow we didn't get that memo, and of course were planning of visiting all the towns on Sunday. So, following advice from the woman who owned the b&b we took a train one stop to Evesham. From Evesham she said that we could catch a bus to Stratford-upon-Avon, or enjoy walking around Evesham because it's a nice place to visit. Well, Evesham didn't exactly live up to its reputation. There were no busses or trains running out of the town for 2 hours, and it was not a nice place to walk around. We felt like we were in a back-country hick town...and in England that's really hard to find. We found a little cafe to kill some time in and drink tea. When we walked in it felt like one of those scenes in a movie when the music screeches to a stop and everyone stops what they're doing to look at the crazy hippie kids who just walked in. Overall, Evesham was a humuorous experience, but we were glad when the train finally rolled back into town. Luckily that train was headed for London Paddington, which would have been perfectly convenient if the trains were running properly out of Oxford. When we arrived in Oxford we had to get off the train and onto a replacement bus service to Didcot, where we boarded another train for London. Finally we made it back home; I was amazed at how exhausted I was from just waiting for trains all day. Despite the frustrations it was good to get out of the city, and both of our black lungs felt much better after taking a break from bus exhaust and city air for a couple days.

malfunction

To start out, I'll apologize for the lack posts lately. There's been a tragedy. My computer is sick. I don't know what has happened, but he is not doing well. We think that the extra power that is pumped through the electrical system here might have fried him. That, and the fact that the internet at my flat has been down for over a week now, makes for a shortage of blogs. Besides that, life has been really good. Last weekend, and basically the entire week before that was consumed with flat-searching for Ross. He finally found one on Sunday which is a huge relief. And, it's only a five minute walk from my flat which makes me very happy. And to add to the excitement I just got a text from him saying that he has a job! So, things are looking up. This week has felt much more normal, settling back into work and life in London after the holiday. We spent Monday night at a pub with Andy and Trace, which was a much needed time to spend with good friends. The real excitement of the week was getting my mom's christmas package in the mail.....it only took 6 weeks! I'll post pictures of the beat-up box when I get a chance, it's pretty hilarious. I have to run to meet Ross for lunch....there are advantages to him being unemployed!

Christmas, and beyond....

Merry Christmas everyone! I'm sorry I've been really bad about blogging lately, so hold on tight, because here is the huge update.
Christmas in London was fun, though I must admit I was kind of killing time until Ross arrived on Boxing Day. Public transportation in London is shut down on Christmas day, so I went over to a flat where some other Bunac girls live on Christmas Eve, and we had big slumber party for a couple nights. There were about nine of us who were braving our first holiday away from home. We went to St. Paul's Cathedral for midnight mass on Christmas Eve, which was amazing. The setting was beautiful, and was an incredible experience. At the end of the service they opened the huge doors at the end of the cathedral and the London fog kind of drifted in with the moonlight. Christmas Day was spent at the International Student's House where they put on a lunch and afternoon festivities. We had a three course meal, watched the Queen's address to the nation on tv, took a walk through Regent's Park, and then afternoon tea and cakes. It wasn't quite the same as being at home, but I survived with no problem.
Boxing Day brought my real Christmas present when I looked out my window and saw Ross walking down my street. Unfortunately he missed my flat and I had to run after him, chasing him down the street. It made for quite the Hollywood moment though, so I didn't mind. We spent two days here in London, but the city was still pretty shut down because of Christmas, so there wasn't much that we could do. I did wake up to snow one morning, which was an amazing surprise in this snowless land! Ross was less than impressed, considering he had just left Colorado. It didn't take him long to become a Londoner, especially once he bought a wool coat and I did a little work with my scissors on that mop of hair!

On Wednesday we headed out to the country on a little jaunt around England and South Wales. Our first stop was Salisbury where we saw the Salisbury Cathedral, the biggest church spire in England. On Thursday we went to Stonehenge, which was very exciting for both of us since we've learned so much about it in all of our art history classes. The problem is, we're both really cheap, and the view of Stonehenge was just as good from behind the fence as it is inside the fence, so we kind of just huddled outside the barrier and took pictures from there. It was pretty humorous actually. Stonehenge is located out in the middle of nowhere in the cold English countryside, and after 30 minutes we were frozen to the bone and were ready to leave. That afternoon we made our way to Bath. Bath is known for its Roman Baths, built on the only working hot springs in England. The town is very European feeling, it has a fun Italian vibe, which is unusual for the typical half-timber English towns. On Friday we headed to Cardiff, Wales. Cardiff is a city just across the bay from England, and the capital of Wales. Ross and I loved Cardiff. The people were really friendly, and many still speak Welsh with each other. There is a really fun port and a cute main street. It had a bit of San Francisco feel. We loved it so much, in fact, that we thought about just packing up and moving there, but there are no design jobs....so after a night in Cardiff we made our way back to London.

For New Year's Eve, we went down to the River Thames and gathered with the rest of London to watch the fireworks display over the river. The tube was supposedly running all night and free, but because of a worker's strike, about half of the stations were shut down, thus requiring about an hour walk down the river in the middle of the night.
It's back to work for me tomorrow, and Ross has to get serious about settling in here now....finding a flat and job, you know, just a few little tasks. I hope that updates everyone on my life a little bit. I miss you all and hope you enjoyed your holidays!