This past Saturday we had lovely weather here and I had the perfect opportunity to explore new parts of London. This is my fourth time here and with being here two months last summer, there is little "touristy" stuff here I haven't done and seen. Of all the cities in the world that I have been to, I know London geographically better than any other, second to Cincinnati. (I am not counting all the small Illinois towns that I know really well too.) But there were a couple of things I had on my London this-time-around-to-do-list that were new: Primrose Hill and the south bank of the Thames.

Primrose Hill is a hill (duh) on the north side of Regent's Park. It is known for the lovely view of London its peak offers, and for that reason, it is often used as a filming location in movies set here. Primrose Hill is also the name of the posh North London neighborhood that surrounds the hill and its park, and is the place of residence for lots of Brits on the it list, such as Jude Law, Sienna Miller (I don't think she lives with Jude Law anymore, since he screwed their nanny or something awhile back, right?), Helena Bonham Carter, Kate Moss, Ewan McGergor, etc. So I took off on foot up through Regent's Park (I blogged about my love for this place previously), into the connecting large grassy area that surrounds the hill, then up Primrose Hill. It took a good 50 minutes to get there, but I love walking and people watching and exercise and looking at all the pretty flowers in the park, so I didn't mind this at all. And the view from the hill was worth the exertion to get there. The photo doesn't do it justice (my camera is a piece of cheap crap and doesn't have much zoom).

The view:


After that I had some lunch--purchased from Tesco and eaten al fresco, just like in the Lilly Allen song--then on I went to the south bank of the Thames. I have been to the south bank and done things individually--the Globe Theatre, walked around the London eye, the Tate Galleries, Waterloo train station more times than I can count since that is the starting point for getting to much of southern England--but I had always taken the tube to the places individually, so I didn't have a good sense of the geography down there. So I got off the tube at Borough Market, and then walked east from there all the way to the Houses of Parliament, stopping to take some pics along the way:

Here is St. Paul's Cathedral and the Thames from the South Bank



Here is St. Paul's Cathedral and Blackfriars Bridge from the Thames (the area on the south side of the bridge has lots of pubs and shops and is a ton of fun).



And then the sunlight on the Houses of Parliament was gorgeous, so I had to capture it too:





With the sunshine, warmth, and droves of people out everywhere, it was a happy day.

On Thursday I caught an early train out of London to Exeter, Devonshire for a day of research at the Devon Record Center. Devon is in the southwest of England. It is known for its picturesque rolling countryside and for its rugged, but beautiful beaches. When I think of Devon, I think of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes out on their farm living like hermits, raising their small children, working the land, and writing like mad artists (for Syliva this mad writing occurred at 5am when her kids were still sleeping). When I think of Devon, I also think of hippies camped out in the hills and by lakes in their 1970s VW vans and wandering about Britain's streams and canals in those long narrow boats (the name of which I can't remember now). In another life I would be one of those hippies. I was also interested in going to the ancient Exeter, not only to catch a glimpse of its haunting cathedral, but mostly because Thom Yorke went to university there and it is said to have been an important influence on Radiohead in its early years. (I should mention while I was on the bus going from the archives to the train station, I saw a little hotel called "Planet Telex" and I couldn't help but thinking it HAD to have been the namesake for the song of the same name on the early album _The Bends._

So with my Romantic notions in mind, I was happy to travel to Devon, a county in which I had never been, even if it was for just one day of hellacious reseach at a county record office. It was a long, exhausting trip--really too much for a day trip from London--but worth it because the manuscripts I went to see were well worth the trip. I was able to get a few glimpses of the famous countryside, as the record office (like every other record office in this country) was outside of the city and totally inconvenient to get to, and captured a good shot seen here.



And after I closed the record office and headed back to the train station, I treated myself to some take-away from a nearby pub. Waiting on the train, I happily consumed two of my favorite things that are plentiful in Britain: curry and Stella.

This is a photo from my favorite place in London. On my way back from the British Library tonight, I walked through Regent's Park and its lovely gardens, and it helped me unwind from a strenuous day of squinting at overly loopy, often illegible, but always pretty, Victorian aristocratic women's handwriting.
The particular scene pictured above reminded me of the cover on the edition of McEwan's _Atonement_ that I own, so I captured it to be mine forever.

I was sooo tired and ready to drop all day yesterday, but I kept moving and persevered, keeping myself going last night by some shopping. Since yesterday was a national holiday here and NOTHING, including libraries, was open, I decided to get any shopping-in-London urges out of my system right away so it would not distract me later on. First I shopped for wine, looking particularly for wines to buy here that I can't get at home or that are expensive at home. The best and least inexpensive wine I like to buy in England are South African and Spanish. When the husband was here visiting me last summer, he pointed out how cheap good Cotes-du-Rhone and Bourdeaux are at all the wine shops and grocery stores. So in honor of him I purchased a Cotes-du-Rhone to drink first. I usually don't go too crazy over French wine. I'll drink them, but I prefer full-bodied chianti and shiraz with lots of (what I like to call) "kick." While at Tesco I also bought some chocolate to go along with my French wine, knowing that this kind of subtle wine is always better with food, especially chocolate. (Really, I only like to eat chocolate with wine. The combination is fabulous.) After the wine shopping, I walked the 30 minutes down to Oxford Circus where I knew all the chain stores would likely be open, even in spite of yesterday being a Labor Day-like holiday and everything else being closed. I love, love, love H&M. Need I say more? Why doesn't freakin Cincinnati have one? I have a cute white hat now (that I will probably never wear in Cincy because it just isn't trendy enough for me to sport it there; a cheap fake leather, brown handbag (that holds my London map, water bottle, and wallet and all that other stuff I need here as I walk around all over the place); lavender-tined zirconia stud earrings to go in my second and third holes; and a cute v-neck cotton pullover to wear in the evenings here since it's kind of cool and none of my old jackets fit and I left them at home because they looked so baggy and uncute.

Having gotten the shopping out of my system and wine stock ready, I was ready to face my first day of research (today) with unprecedented vigour (note the British spelling). BUT THEN I FREAKIN SLEPT UNTIL 11:00 THIS MORNING!! I had planned to be at the British Library by nine, never dreaming in a million years that I would or could ever sleep that late. I am not a late-sleeper; I rarely sleep past 6:30 or 7:00; I thrive in the early morning. So waking up, turning over and seeing 11:00 on the alarm clock really upset me. Undoubtedly, I am still on U.S. Eastern time and I was exhausted from not sleeping on the red-eye flight and walking all over the place yesterday. But 11:00??? I had squandered precious research time. AAAAHHH!

Feeling so guilty about not getting to the British library until 12:30, I stayed until they closed tonight at 8:30, putting in my eight hours with the manuscripts and microfilms. Leaving tonight at dusk and walking to the nearby pub for its cheap burger and beer deal, I looked up and remembered how much I love Victorian neo-Gothic architecture that one sees in parts of London, including part of the British Library. So having looked up and admired many, many times now walking out of the library, I decided to finally take a picture. Here it is:

I was catapulted across the Atlantic last night back into an old life. How weird it was to come up out of the Baker Street tube station this morning, scanning my Oyster card (newly re-topped off with pounds after a one year hiatus) to exit past all the shops I know so well--the Boots (it's like a British CVS or Walgreens), past the dimly-lit Italian restaurant, past the trashy lingerie store with stuff in the windows you would never see in store windows in the U. S., and out into the chilly and windy streets of the Marylebone neighborhood. Walking along Dorset Square, I gawked in the windows of the two wine shops that brought me many nights of cheap Spanish and South African wine last summer. I wrinkled my noise and cringed as I strolled past Tesco and its crappy produce (aside from the cucumbers and apples--those are fabulous and better than ours everywhere here, even in the crappiest grocery stores).

Here I am nearly one year to the date that I last left it. As I sit here looking out my window, I can see the flat where I stayed last year--it's less than a block away. Like almost every day here, the sky is gloomy, and the clouds are low and moving fast. It's chilly for August. I anticipate the daily round of rain and drizzle will come through soon. The people on the (government-sponsored) tele are overly obsessed about the summer Olympics being here in four years and the lack of construction progress at the planned Olympic village site. I think to myself: "The SUMMER olympics are coming HERE, where it is rarely summer?"

Yes, here I am back in London, feeling like I never left, and picking up that life where I last left off. Did it go on without me?

Despite a LONG day at Langsam library trying to finish up some work before I leave town, I am excited about a couple of things today, other than the general excitement of leaving the country and not having to go to my jobs for a few weeks.
1. I found out today I have been awarded a travel grant from the North American Victorian Studies Association to present at its annual conference this November. I have known for awhile I was on the conference, but I wasn't sure if I would get the grant to pay for my travel expenses. Today, some worries were eased. . . . and I can splurge on a few more pints in Britain now.

2. An English friend of mine who is studying in Abeerdeen has invited me up to visit during my time in Scotland. She's in a Scottish folk band (plays the English concertina and the fiddle) and she has a gig the Saturday night after my Glasgow conference. She claims there will be lots of dancing and drinking--some kind of local fundraiser. If you have ever been around Scots, you know this event will surely get rowdy and be a blast. So I will probably go stay with her a night or two in between the conference and my research in Edinburgh. I'll go to the gig with her on Saturday night, then Sunday we'll see some highlands or castles or something like that. Staying with her a night or two will also decrease my hostel time in Edinburgh as well. . . .
In case some of you may be wondering that I am squandering precious research time and fellowship money to go drinking at dancing in northern Scotland, never fear, for this little side trip will be on a Saturday night and Sunday, when the National Library of Scotland and its precious manuscripts are not open to me. I will be back in Edinburgh Monday morning ready to work like a madwoman. I say this because last year when I posted accounts and pictures of my weekend travels through Britain, some accused me of just being on vacation and not doing any research.

So after my long day at Langsam, a few fellow hard-working friends and I ventured to Mecklenburg Gardens for some much needed drinks and food. We had planned to go anyway before I knew about the travel grant, but after I learned of the good news, I was REALLY ready for the happy hour.

This morning I am going to the Aveda institute for some much-needed hair pampering. I haven't had anything done to my hair since April, partly because I am letting it grow long and partly because the people at Aveda PISSED ME OFF.

Quick word about the Aveda institute if you are not in the know: it's a training school so students do your hair (guided with lots of instructor supervision), making the prices really inexpensive--about half of what I would pay for a highlight and cut at a real salon, plus you are not supposed to tip since they are students. I have had good experiences there in the past. . . until my last visit in the spring. . . .

My horrible last visit started off with the most painful eyebrow wax of my life. I hesitate to say wax, because the eighteen-year-old doing my eyebrow service apparently missed a lot of brow when applying the wax, so she ended up plucking the rest to make it even with my other eye. Good grief, I could've plucked them myself at home. The point of doing a wax is that the pain comes all at once and you get a cleaner, more defined line. But I was patient as she was a student and I was only paying $10 for this service.

My actual hair turned out fine, but what really, really pissed me off was the scolding I received when I took a phone call while I was getting shampooed. I answered it because I saw it was my mom, and I knew she was calling to give me an update on my brother's wife WHO WAS IN LABOR WITH MY NIECE. I had been on the phone all of ten seconds when a manager/ supervisor came over and rudely told me this was a place of relaxation and that I needed to get off the phone. Now I wasn't making any noise. My phone had been on vibrate; my mom was doing all the talking since she was giving me all the details of the new baby and the labor and all that, so I had hardly spoke a word. But the women kept standing there staring at me until I hung up. Then she lectured me some more about Aveda being a relaxing, spiritual environment, and that I was ruining the experiences of their other clients. After I told her my important reason for taking the phone call and she was completely unsympathetic, I started to get really pissed and my mouth started to run off. I told her I found it pretty hard to relax with all their loud, clubbing music out in the salon. I also wanted to tell her that I found it hard to relax and be "spiritualized" with my eighteen-year-old stylist gossiping with other eighteen-year-old students who were hanging out at her station the entire time she was doing my hair. But I didn't complain about the student because she still hadn't finished my hair and was standing right there rinsing my head.

Anyway, I left that day having decided that the Aveda institute was overly pretentious, not to mention hypocritical, and that I wouldn't go back. But here I am, desperate for some hair care but too underemployed this summer to pay for these services at a real salon. I will eat my words and compromise my convictions before I will go walk around London next week looking like white trash with all my split ends and dark roots. Just as my personality quiz said, I am vain. So I am off to Aveda. . . .

I am back home and recovering from an exhausting trip. Everyone's been asking about the Toronto conference so here's the rundown:

The paper was received quite well. No one tried to argue with me or contradict anything I said. Actually, it was all quite to the contrary. I don't mean to toot my own horn or anything, but people were really interested in my sources and topic and wanted to know all about it. I almost feel like I made a little splash. I have even been offered a book review (not in too prestigious a place, but at least it's a publication related to my diss. topic)! Professionally, the conference was a good one in which to participate. I know I have said it before on here, but these smaller, specialized conferences, unlike the AMS annual meetings, are the best places to meet and talk with people in your subdisciplines, especially if you are just starting out, wanting to get your ideas out there, and don't know anyone yet. And I have found that once you know a couple of key people, these people will introduce you to other key people. Knowing important people is of course important from a network perspective, but I have come to realize that getting advice and ideas from these people is the most important thing to me at this stage. These people can help me in ways that the profs at CCM cannot. They know the sources around my topic and where they are located. Meeting students in one's subdiscipline is important too. Actually, one of the best ideas/ leads on a potential EXCITING source for me came from a fellow student who is working on a topic sort of related to mine. Plus, I really just like making friends from all different places (mainly Brits, so that I have more people to hang out with in the UK, and I don't die of loneliness and/or boredom when I am there again soon).

So I guess you could say my "networking" was successful. And I even did it without wine. At the conference reception, it cost $7.50 Canadian dollars!! for freakin glasses of freakin crappy Fetzer Chardonnay and Cabernet. Since the husband has turned me into a wine snob; I was trying to do the whole trip on less than$50 for food and transportation in spite of the sorry-ass state of the U.S. dollar; and once I have one glass of wine, I ALWAYS have to a second or third and then I get giggly and would've compromised my identity as budding, serious academic, I did not partake of the over-priced crappy vino.

There is not much else too exciting to report outside of the conference. My dorm room accommodation had, to quote a colleague, "all the charm of an East German hostel." The mattress was the hardest one I have ever encountered in my life. Sleeping on one of our dog beds would've been more comfortable. And the pillow was next to non-existent. All of this discomfort combined with the insane amounts of conference coffee I sipped all day long, did not make for sleep-filled nights. Lack of TV or wifi made these sleepless nights even more boring. After the conference events on Friday were over, I did go downtown where I wandered around aimlessly for a few hours. I like to people watch, and I love to walk, so walking amongst the thousands of people milling around downtown and along the lake on a lovely Canadian summer night was fun.

Other things worth mentioning:
I went by the Molson brewery. That excited me, as the husband and I occasionally buy Molson when it is often on sale at Meijer. We like Canadian beer.
If you have ever been to Canada, you undoubtedly have seen or been to a Tim Horton's. I was at one on Saturday morning by 6am (as I had been awake since 4am). It's like a cross between our Dunkin Donuts and Panera. It did not impress me--it was over-priced; their coffee sizes were too small (their largest size was like the size of a "tall" at Starbucks; they don't give refills; they take only Mastercard and the Tim Horton's card (neither of which I have); they don't have wi-fi; and they looked annoyed that I sat there working on my laptop for two and a half hours. Give me Panera anyday!! This high-maintenance American consumer was not impressed by this Canadian chain.
Speaking of Canadian chains, I wanted to eat at a Swiss Chalet restaurant because Margaret Attwood's characters always go to them. One of them--from _The Robber Bride_, I think--even worked at one. I saw plenty Swiss Chalets while I was riding the bus, but never found one when I was out walking.

Tomorrow morning I will leave for a conference at York University in Toronto. You can see the conference details and program here:
http://www.nabmsa.org/conf3presch.html

As you can see, I present on Friday and will share good musicological company on my panel. So I am excited and nervous simultaneously. I've done several conference papers on various aspects of my dissertation research this year, but this is the first conference that will have the most specialists in my area there. While no one knows anything about most of my archival sources, there will be numerous people at this conference who are experts on things surrounding my topic, thus making the potential for me to get shot down and/ or look like an idiot high. On the flip side, though, because of this knowledgeable audience, I will also have high potential for feedback--one of the best benefits of conference participation.

My travel to Toronto also unfortunately conflicts with the husband's birthday (tomorrow). I was gone on his birthday last year too. Yes, I suck. Maybe we will go out for a gluttonous breakfast tomorrow morning on the way to the airport to celebrate. He always enjoys a big stack of pancakes.

I've been to Toronto before and have seen quite a bit of the city. It's lovely around the lake especially, and they have a great subway system. I don't know how much I will do outside of the conference this time around, though. This is probably a conference at which I should "network" like a madwoman.
God, I hate networking. I only do it well if I've had some wine. (There will be a wine reception, thankfully.) Someone give me some paxil . . . fast.