New Blog

Just an FYI for all my followers here:

Due to the need for something resembling an official website, I've moved my blog to tmlunsford.wordpress.com. Come follow me there. I promise I'll be more regular about posting :)

It's Raining Men: Part 3

Today, we’re going to look out how many high school girls are portrayed with having SOO many more options than we (or any of our friends) ever had.

Once again, Susan = Italics 

Grease: As if the ‘50’s and ‘60’s in America didn’t have enough weird and disturbing things occurring, let’s place this turbulent social and political frenzy as the background to two instances of high school romances gone array, and put the whole stories to music.

Sandy represents everything that a young woman shouldn’t, she actively pursues a boy who clearly uses her for her appearance, and only begins to value her once she morphs into a slut. Classy, Danny. Sandy could have legitimately led an extremely June Cleaver life with the dummy and been moderately happy with his mindless stare, but then she wouldn’t have gotten to fly a convertible in the air at the senior fair (Did anyone even have a senior carnival …ever?). No, the only choice for the magic of celluloid and American dreams was Danny. Who can resist the allure of “Summer Nights” and “Hopelessly Devoted”? Not six year old me…even if I didn’t understand all of the rather appalling sexual innuendoes.

Stephanie in Grease 2 is more of an interesting situation as she begins her life as the rebellious chick in pants and refuses to compromise her desires for the uptight, English hottie, Michael. She has the idiotic Johnny worshipping the ground she walks on, but she chooses to “unconsciously” string him and Michael along as she slowly discovers her own identity beyond the satin pink jacket. Either way, she gets a high school king. Does her “cool rider” requirement make her demandingly bitchy, or somehow better than Danny because of her gender? That’s a question for another day on a different blog. The point is that you really can’t go wrong with upbeat music, swinging dancing, and clean-cut cuties. Grease is still the word.

Glee Girls: While I absolutely adore all of the girls on GLEE (except for uber-bitch Santana), I’m going to focus this particular discussion on somewhat rivals Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray. Quinn originally starts off as the queen bee with all the options. Not only does she have football stud Finn Hudson eating out of the palm of her hand, but she’s pregnant with Noah “Puck” Puckerman’s baby (although she quite untactfully lies about that for most of season 1). Then, once she’s lost Finn and turned down Puck, she finds the adorable Sam (of the abnormally large mouth). But she can’t be happy with just Sam. Oh no. She has to recycle Finn. At least she’s being green, right?

Rachel Berry isn’t the type of girl you’d expect to have options. She obnoxious to an almost scary degree. But that doesn’t stop her from attracting Finn. And Puck (although he seems mostly to enjoy the fact that she is a fellow “Jew”). And the decidedly attractive and talented Vocal Adrenaline star Jesse St. James. Sadly, Jesse’s motives were not pure and he ended up egging the poor Miss Berry. In truth, it seems that showbiz and Finn are the only real Options for Rachel.

Side note: has anyone else noticed how incestuous these GLEE relationships are getting? Oh, wait, it's high school :)

Hermione:

Finally, a true smarty pants heroine who embraces the nerd within and still gets options. Gotta love that. Her guys, though somewhat of a different breed than the guys mentioned previously are nonetheless wonderful for all of their quirks and emotional baggage.

Let’s start out with an honorable mention for the title character of the series, Mr. Harry Potter. While the Boy who Lived and the Girl who Studied never actually started dating, there was the opportunity for such a relationship to develop in the earlier books, but didn’t, to the dismay of some (ME!!!-T). Still, she got to call him a best friend and ally, as well as be the much needed female presence in the trio of adventure buddies around Hogwarts.

Onto an actual boyfriend, enter here the moodily famous Quidditch player, Viktor Krum. He briefly appears in the actual scene of the narrative during the Triwizard Tournament, and takes a shine to our favorite bushy-haired bookworm. While Hermione seems extremely flattered with his invitation to the Yule Ball and his proposal to visit him in Bulgaria, Hermione and her faithful friends know that this is all a small speed bump on the way to Weasley/Granger bliss.

As for our favorite fuddy-duddy ginger, Ron makes his love for Hermione known through his naïvely jealous reactions to Hermione’s interest in Krum, and the good old “tease ‘em ‘til they know that you love ‘em” technique so popular among boys from 11-100. Hermione had options, but there was really only one spaz to balance out the uber smarts of our wunderkind. Weasley is our King!

Tomorrow: Into our comfort zone we go- Literary ladies with options.

It's Raining Men: Part 2

Today, we (Susan and I) discuss the bitches who have viable options, but True Love biases them towards one over the other.

Italics= Susan

Bella:

I know, I know. The Twilight Saga has gotten a rather bad…okay, completely atrocious rap, but don’t try and lie by saying that you haven’t either read the books or seen at least one of the movies. Bella, with all of her anti-feminist characteristics and her lack of personality and basic agency (especially in the movies), is presented with two extremely good-looking options who are both desperately in love with her.

Don’t get me wrong, Edward can be an over-protective creeper with serious boundary issues and an over active martyr complex, but he is honest to goodness, quaffed head over sparkly heels in love with Bella. Plus, the guy is LOADED with cash, has a very accepting family, and is a vampire without the icky mythological, soulless issues that Buffy’s fanged friends seemed to have. What’s to hate? I’d be upset if he left me too…if I was seventeen, wasn’t super comfortable with myself, and wasn’t as well-versed in feminist theory as I am.

Now for the werewolf of every preteen girl’s dreams, we’ve reached New Moon’s star, Jacob Black. Exotic, kind, good with cars, not dead, and conveniently present and muscular, Jacob is pretty much the perfect rebound for the absent vampire Romeo. Sadly, we audience members and Bella got used to the easy confidence that a hundred years lends a guy, as well as the eternity of possibilities the Edward presented. Ultimately, the fact that Jacob imprints on Bella and Edward’s oddly named child leads one to believe that wolfie was only attracted to Bella’s ovaries, which is slightly more worrying than Edward’s creeping. Sorry Jacob, Edward’s the guy for Bella…glitter is apparently better than fur, so it’s time to put the dog out.

Meredith Grey: The dark and twisty heroine of Grey’s Anatomy has Options (George, Finn, McSteamy, McDreamy), but despite brief distractions, only one of them is an Option that matters. As for Buffy and Angel, it was and is always going to be Meredith and Derek. First love in this case is the one that is true. Could Meredith have been reasonably happy with George or Finn? Maybe. Probably. But she wouldn’t be completed. Derek (along with being perfectly coiffed, adorably handsome, and a BRAIN SURGEON) gets that she was scary and damaged by her mother’s seriously messed up choices. And after a few obstacles, you know, your standard relationship hurdles: the ex-wife who’s not really ex, almost being blown up by a bomb, being dead for a whole episode, breaking up because you can’t breathe for the person, they get married on a post-it note. And even then, they’ve still got their fair share of problems. But together, they can overcome a hospital wide massacre, a miscarriage and fertility issues. Because True Love conquers all, right?

Dr. Temperance “Bones” Brennan: The good doctor, while a bit socially inept, attracts a lot of guys. Over the course of the show, she’s dated many attractive men, sometimes two at a time. But the one constant relationship in her life has been Special Agent Seeley Booth. For six seasons now, they’ve been playing the “will they or won’t they” game. Meanwhile, they’ve formed a “surrogate” relationship where Booth and Brennan know more about each other than they do about anyone else. Booth has sacrificed his life numerous times to save Bones and vice versa. Despite Booth’s “gamble” and 7 months separation, compounded by an extremely unlikable girlfriend (Hannah), double B seem to finally be on their way to realizing there’s only one Option: each other.

The Women of the “Who”-niverse: The writers of the new DOCTOR WHO series have made sure that the companions have options to turn to. The first (and in my opinion best) example of this is Rose Tyler. Rose served as companion to Doctors 9 and 10, falling in love with both incarnations. But she had options. If she wanted to, she could have gone back to earth and been relatively happy with the ordinary Mickey Smith. He was more than just a tin dog after all. She and Captain Jack could have at least had a pretty steamy affair. However, when the chips were on the table, it was always the extraordinary Doctor. She sacrificed everything for the Time Lord, even her own reality. And despite the semi-weirdness of the whole cloning factor, she eventually got her man.

Next up in order of favoritism is Gwen Parker of TORCHWOOD. Throughout the series, Gwen has an ongoing relationship with Rhys and eventually marries him. Poor schmuck is the only normal element in the girl’s life. In the Hub, she has to deal with a lot of scary-ass aliens, not to mention a co-worker (who she briefly dated) who is brought back from the dead and Captain Jack Harkness, former Time Agent and resident immortal. That’s right, dude can’t die. No matter how you try to kill him (gun, knife, hanging, concrete) he comes back to life (thanks to Rose Tyler). While Jack is openly omnisexual (meaning he’ll do just about anything that breathes), there is a blatant sexual tension that exists between Jack and Gwen from day one. Gwen is one of the few people who can stand up to Jack and call him on his bullshit and he challenges her like no one ever has. Unfortunately, as of the upcoming season, Gwen is still married to Rhys and they have a kid. But I trust in Russell Davies and fate J

Amy Pond gets a brief mention because she does technically have options. While obviously infatuated with the 11^th Doctor (and if you’ve seen Matt Smith, you understand why), she also has the lovably bumbling Rory, a definite throwback to early Mickey. But unlike her predecessor, Amy chooses the normal guy. Instead of leaving him behind, she brings Rory along with her on her adventures with the Doctor and is practical enough to go ahead and marry the guy, knowing that a man like the Doctor can’t be tied down by just anyone.


Tomorrow: Options in the wonderfully scary world of High School

It's Raining Men: Part 1

Sorry it's been so long since my last update. School has been crazy, plus I've been writing like a madwoman. Novel 2 is finished, Novel 3 started, plus 2 novellas are in the works. 

Joining me as a guest blogger for the next several days is my lovely (and witty) roommate, Susan.

Ever watched a movie, tuned into a TV show, or read a book with a romantic element and thought “Damn, I wish I had the options that (Insert heroine’s name) had. I would not have nearly as hard a time choosing/just being happy with my life as she did.” We two lonely bibliophilic roommates, Susan and Taylor, term this series of nagging thoughts and lovingly envious emotions as the “Bitches with Options Syndrome.” It’s not that we don’t absolutely adore most of these heroines; it’s just that every one of these gals seems to have multiple alternatives upon whom to bequeath her love and favor. These choices of men display an array of positive and negative qualities that we will soon expound upon, but the point is that they are there, ready to love and be loved. For some girls it’s raining men…for others the high pressure system that is living in a liberal arts university community where the boy/girl ration is roughly 80/20, there’s been a twenty one year drought that doesn’t show any signs of retreating. Therefore, here’s our list of some of our favorite ladies and their awesome options, because its better look where the grass is greener and critique it, than judge your own gravel lot.

Today, we start off with the girls who just have too many options. We'll move on from there :)

Italics- Commentary by Susan

 Sookie Stackhouse: Options? Girl’s got more options than she can say grace over. The candidates: Bill, Eric, Alcide, Sam, Quinn. Any normal girl would be satisfied with one of those options. But no. She’s got all 5.

Ok, so Bill never makes it as a real viable option. He’s got all those nefarious motives. And he’s got this awful habit of assuming Sookie can’t understand the decisions he makes. Yeah, she’s blonde, but that doesn’t mean she’s stupid. He could’ve stood a chance if he had been truthful with her. But no. He’s got to go and be all secretive and lie to her about hmm…everything? The same could be said for Quinn. He had the same jealous/possessive problem that Bill had AND he worked for Felipe de Castro. Men too stupid to see a good thing when they had it. Also not smart enough to move on once the girl says “no.”

 Sam and Alcide are genuinely nice guys. They have stable jobs and, for the most part, seem to actually care about Sookie. However, dudes have issues. LOTS of them. Sookie has enough of her own issues to deal with that she doesn’t need two-natured problems making her life harder on top of that.

Which leaves Eric (*sigh*) (*swoon*)

 Granted, he can be a bit domineering (ok, a lot). But he’s hot enough to get away with it (hello, shower scene?). And he at least explains his behavior. Eric, for all of his machinations, always does what’s best for Sookie and for both of them as a couple. He’s also the only one Susan or I truly believe would willingly die for Sookie.

Buffy:

Arguably the crown jewel in the brilliant career of Joss Whedon, Buffy the Vampire Slayer never failed to give all of the ladies (and roughly 10% of the viewing gentlemen) something to ogle at from week to week as the Scoobies averted the apocalypse time and time again. The beautiful and brooding Angel, the dependably handsome Riley, and the devilishly attractive Spike…saving the world must stock up some seriously potent karma points. Still, let’s attempt to examine these prime examples of eye-candy somewhat objectively in order to sort these options into more manageable doses of hotness.

Enchantingly mysterious. Occasionally evil. The first love. The most epic can’t eat, can’t sleep, with stars so crossed it made Romeo and Juliet’s romance look like a TV romcom, the Angel/Buffy relationship kept our eyes glued to the screen and our hearts thudding madly as we saw their soaring highs and tragically romantic lows. I mean, yeah she did kill him once, and he did kill Ms. Calendar (to be honest, who really liked her anyway?) but not even the fires of hell could separate their love. Angel represented everything that Buffy deserved in a man: virtually indestructible, caring, completely understanding, and enough contact with dark side to make humorous quips while killing demons with her. Sadly, he was such a good character Joss stripped him from our grips to give him his own spinoff…rude.

Riley ended up being an epic disappointment. He did prove that a supernatural badass like Buffy could have a “normal” boyfriend. Unfortunately, he took normalness to new extremes. The guy had zilch in the personality department other than a goofy smile and tossable early ‘00’s hair. Buffy even admitted that she already knew that they didn’t have the fire of her and Angel even BEFORE she went on her first date with Riley (You know, in Something Blue, season 4 , episode 9…so maybe I do own all of the series on DVD). Suffice it to say that Riley just couldn’t handle all that was Buffy and had to stoop to a level of whining about it while her mother was in the hospital. Go back to Iowa, you big fail.

Ah now we’ve arrived at Spike. Hilarious from day one and a super hottie from minute one, Spike kept us lovingly hating him even when he legitimately was trying to kill Buffy & co. When they finally got together it was an extreme relief it was a total “YES!” moment, but somehow their odd (and rather raunchy) relationship always lacked the complete tidal wave of passion and devotion that Angel brought to the table. The first bite is the deepest, and even the last episode of the series saw Buffy and Angel keeping up hope for their relationship…should they live long enough, of course. At the end of night, our dark haired, fanged, moody boy wins all.

While not an actual relationship of Buffy, Xander Harris must receive an honorable mention because his complete crush on Buffy began ten minutes into the pilot and stayed true through all of her relationships, through his relationships, and about a dozen apocalypses. Here’s to the relationship that never was, and two thirds of the most awesome friendship ever written for the small screen.   

Honorable Mentions: The ladies of the WB. The writers for CHARMED and GILMORE GIRLS certainly gave those women options. (Just listing serious relationships)

CHARMED

Piper: Jeremy, Dan, Leo

Phoebe: Clay, Cole, Drake, Jason, Leslie, Dex, Coop

Paige: Shane, Glen, Richard, Kyle, Henry

GILMORE GIRLS

Lorelai: Chris, Alex, Max, Jason, Luke

Rory: Dean, Tristan, Jess, Logan

For the most part, all of these options were viable and could have flourished into Happy Ever Afters. In CHARMED, they did (Leo, Coop, and Henry). But Dan Rosenthal left if wide open for the GGs. They STILL had options when the credits rolled for the last time. 

Tomorrow: Too many GOOD Options and Options that only really need one (Supernatural and normal)

Voices in My Head

I’ve resolved to try to blog more regularly now that the school year has started up. We’ll see how that goes…

Right now there’s a circus full of voices in my head (character voices that is), carrying on conversations, trying to get attention. I just want to settle on one of them for a bit, so I can actually get some work done, but they have other plans for me.

In Ring One: Aidan Cavanaugh and Kate Burns - 1816. Right now Kate is infinitely frustrated with Aidan because the stupid man won’t open up and tell her about his past. He’s found out everything he possibly can about her, but he won’t share more than basic details about himself. As punishment for his stubbornness, I’m about to inflict him with nightmares of his life as a soldier. But I’m not quite sure where to begin…

In Ring Two: Jamie McKenzie and Charlie Baker - 2010. Jamie and Charlie met one night in London, a week before Charlie had to move back to Texas. Now they’re trying to conduct a long distance relationship via the Internet. Getting this relationship off to a good start is going a bit slower than I’d like.

And in Ring Three: Cal Michaels and Prue Harrison - 2010. Cal and Prue are the newest voices in my head. I haven’t written a word of their story yet, but they’re already getting louder and louder, demanding attention. I’m still planning their story out. Cal owns a matchmaking company, but doesn’t believe in love and Prue is a wedding planner who refuses to give up hope that true love exists. Oh yeah, and Cal might be an alias for Cupid…

Who will take center stage is anybody’s guess. Until one wins, I’ll keep bouncing back and forth and hope MS Word can't get whiplash.

Tomorrow or Thursday I’ll update about my semester. It’s shaping up to be berry interestin’.

London Recap

London Recap:

Time away from home: 17 weeks

Cities visited: 11 (London, Windsor, Bath, Brighton, Oxford, Cambridge, Edinburgh, Inverness, Lewes, Chawton, Sunningdale)

Castles/Palaces seen/visited: 14 (Buckingham Palace, Palace at Westminster, Kensington Palace, Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh Castle, Tower of London, Windsor Castle, Blair Castle, Hampton Court Palace, St. James’s Palace, Lewes Castle, Royal Pavilion, plus two others I can’t remember the name of)

Literary Sites visited: 17 (The Eagle and Child, The Elephant Café, Christ Church College, Blackwells, Hatchards, Jane Austen’s House in Chawton and Bath, The Pump Room, Charles Dickens’ House, River Ouse, The Globe, The Rose, The Conan Doyle, Mayfair, 7 Dials, Bow Street, Peter Pan Statue, Walter Scott Memorial)

Celebrities Seen: 12+ (Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, Julie Walters, Rupert Grint, Lloyd Owen, Roger Allam, Ben Barnes, Georgie Henley, Will Poulter, Matt Cardle, Rebecca Ferguson, Aidan Grimshaw, and more that I can’t remember)

Plays Seen: 18 (The 39 Steps, Romeo and Juliet, Design for Living, Comedy of Errors, Tiny Kushner, Henry IV Part 1 & 2, Merry Wives of Windsor, Les Miserables, Wicked, Tribes, Priscilla Queen of the Desert, Tempest, Faust, Hamlet, Blood and Gifts, Romeo and Juliet, Midsummer Night’s Dream)

Trips to Spain cancelled: 1

Days of Snow: 4

Hours Spent Traveling(by bus, plane, train or car): 100+

Miles walked: Too many to count

Overall, this was a fantastic semester. A few hitches along the way, but I still had a blast. I think it was good for me to live away from home for so long. It gave me a taste of what life will probably be like after May. It also made me realize that there is a difference in knowing you are going to be some place indefinitely and having an exit date. I know that I have grown as a person and my understanding of the world has shifted and changed, which I guess was probably the point of the whole thing J

Frost

In honor of the first snow of the year here in London, my last Writing in the City creative piece!

PS I go home in 10 days!!!! (Before that though, I go to Spain on Saturday until Tuesday)

Cold. Cold that seeps into your bones.

Night. Night that comes before you’re ready.

As I sit by the window, I hide from the frost outside.

Barren. Barren trees that hibernate for the winter.

Solitude. Solitude that protects us from the cold.

As the fire crackles, I hide from the frost outside.

Glitter. Glitter from the frost that coats every surface.

White. White that falls from the sky to join the frost.

As I shrug on my coat, I hide from the frost outside.

Steam. Steam from my breath that dances in the air.

Roses. Roses that color my cheeks as they greet the cold.

As I step outside, I embrace the frost.

Frost. Frost that comes with winter.

Winter. Winter that lets the world sleep.

As the earth sleeps, the Londoners embrace the frost. 

Soundtrack of the City- Josh Groban Remix

So, anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE Josh Groban. His new album, Illuminations, came out on Monday and I adore it. So, since my brain won't shut down and I still have two more creative pieces to get done for my Writing in the City class, I've done a remix of my Soundtrack of the City poem with lyrics from the new JG album since it's all I'm listening to right now (ok, except for occasional moments when I need a few Glee songs or Christmas music).

There's a pale winter moon in the sky

Coming through my window

Who puts the rainbow in the sky?

Who lights the stars at night?

Woosh woosh (Please Mind the Gap! Doors Closing.)

A lua que esclarece esse sol sem descansar jamais

Amar o quanto precisar que ame

Over mountains and sky blue seas

On great circles will you watch for me?

Lately all your sweet rhymes recreate me,

now comes the time when I'll need your truth to see.

sous un ciel bleu, ciel sans nuage

retournons la-bas

Shuffle, Click, Shuffle, Click

I drew my line across the sand

And set my flag in no mans land

You were the secret I loved keep

the name I would only sing in my sleep

Hoonk Hoonk! (Beep Beep Beep!)

Tu soffri come soffro

Quando è l’ora dell’addio

This is the time of our great undoing

This is the time that I'll come running

You see these hands?

They're millions strong

Life goes on, and on, and on

City of Ghosts

I know. I know. I'm terrible. It's been WAY too long since I updated. What can I say? Life here has been crazy, and, as is typical for this time of year, school has sucked away my desire to write anything. November sucks. BUT, having to do homework means I've written more for my Writing in the City class.

This poem is inspired by our trip to the Tower of London to see the Ceremony of the Keys. This 700 year old ceremony marks the closing of the ancient castle/fortress/prison each night. Most people don't know about it and it's a relatively short ceremony, but going to it allows you to see the Tower at night, which is seriously cool/mildly creepy when you think of how many poor souls were tortured/killed there. Hence, the poem.

CITY OF GHOSTS

London is a city of ghosts.

Night falls early and they come out to play.

Look to the ramparts and roofs.

That’s where they stay.

The mists roll in and the air grows crisp.

Among us move the witnesses of the past.

What have they seen?

These people whose lives were gone all too fast.

They’re not a frightening lot.

Lives lost can’t be anything but sad.

Perhaps they bring warning for those of us still here.

We live in a world that is mad, mad, mad.

Walk the city with them.

Listen to their tales.

They are the heart of the buildings.

They’re still here when all else fails. 

Eye of the Storm

A poem I wrote for my Writing in the City Class about Hyde Park

Peace. Comfort. Breath.

Verdant green. Soothing chocolate. Calming colors.

Walking along the path, the chaos of the city disappears.

People walk past, in twos or threes, alone.

A gentle noise. A peaceful hum. A silent purr.

Listening to the quiet, the chaos of the city disappears.

Children play, ducks swim, dogs run.

Across the congested road, around the crowded corner, below in the Tube, 

Buzzing activity is all around, but here, the chaos of the city disappears.

Cool grass. Gentle breeze. Nature’s perfume in the air.

Breathing in, breathing out, eyes closing 

With the rhythm of the park, the chaos of the city disappears.

Forget work. Forget worry. Forget whatever.

Being one, being there, being part of it,

Here in the Eye of the Storm, the chaos of the city disappears. 

A bench placed in a particular spot in Hyde Park
by the Serpentine because Rudolf loved it.

Random List 2: Literary BFFs

One of the blogs I follow had a guest spot asking “Who Would be your Literary BFF?” so that got me pondering (shocker, I know). So, rather than working on my novel, as I should be (in all fairness, I’ve written 11,000 words in the past 10 days, so that’s not too shabby, but still), I made up my own list.

1. Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen – Lizzie and I might be too much alike to get along, but I think we could have great fun together. We both enjoy reading and going on tramps around just to enjoy the solitude of it (I’m particularly fond of the latter activity now that I live with five other people). I also appreciate someone who can be snarky with me, especially about ridiculous people.

2. Anne Shirley from Anne of Green Gables series by L.M. Montgomery – In my head, Anne and I have been friends for the past 13 years or so. We go on rambles through the Haunted Woods and let our imaginations run wild. I think of Anne as my dreamy alter-ego. When I’m feeling particularly fanciful, I’m channeling my inner-Anne.

3. Skeeter Phelan from The Help by Kathryn Stockett - Again, a snarky friend. Skeeter can only put up with so much B.S. from stupid people and I can TOTALLY sympathize. On top of that, she’s a writer too, so we could sit around and talk about the trials and tribulations of writing.

4. Ella from Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine – Again, another long-term literary BFF. Ella’s sassy patience has always made me smile. She’s bright, funny and knows what she wants. I hate indecisive people.

5 Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser from Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon – I don’t know if we would necessarily be BFFs, but she would definitely be an interesting person to be friends with. Between the time-traveling and her knowledge about herbs and such, there would never be a lull in conversation.

6. Honoria  Cynster from Cynster novels by Stephanie Laurens – I love the no-nonsense, quiet strength of the Cynster matriarch. She deals with a family full of stubborn, opinionated men without batting an eye. I would love to learn her ways from her, because God knows I need all the help I can get.

7. Margaret Hale from North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell – Sometimes I already think I am BFFs with Margaret in real life. Her quiet, but fierce personality reminds me of my BFF Katrina.

8. Jo March Baeher from Little Women trilogy by Louisa May Alcott – Jo probably would have gotten me in a lot of trouble, but she would’ve been a great BFF. We could stay up late together writing and bounce ideas off each other.

9. Ellie Harrison from Avalon High by Meg Cabot – Another sassy, no-nonsense girl. She also loves to read just as much as I do. I don’t know about the whole running thing, but being friends with a reincarnation of the Lady of the Lake would be fun, right?

10. Lucy and Peter Pevensie from The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis – Peter, well, quite honestly I would want to be BFFs with him and possibly date him. Mostly I would want to be friends with Lucy because she thinks like me and is into the whole believing is seeing thing. She’s a strong personality, which I like, but she’s also very philosophical.

Who would your literary BFFs be? Are they life-long friends or new ones you just met?

Touching Greatness

Anyone who knows me knows exactly how big a Jane Austen fanatic I am. I can’t really remember a time when Pride and Prejudice wasn’t my favorite book. If I could write six books that are half as good as hers, I will be able to die happy. I’ve posted numerous entries about my adoration of Jane, a woman before her time who still confounds literary scholars as far as categorization goes.

At the very top of my To-Do list while I was here (Ok, really my To-Do list for life) was to visit Jane Austen’s House in Chawton and on Thursday, I checked that off the list!!!! My friend Susan and I hopped a train out to the little town where the British branch of the Mommy Mafia (Tara) lives and she drove us down into Hampshire to make our pilgrimage to visit Jane. Hampshire itself is beautiful. When you think of stereotypical English countryside, you’re probably summoning up images of Hampshire.

Susan and Me in front of Jane's House

Jane’s house is wonderful. They’ve done a wonderful job of preserving the cottage she lived in with her mother and her sister up until a few months before her death. If the furnishings weren’t original, they were reproductions or furnishings that belonged to some member of Jane’s large family (she had 6 brothers and a sister). Along with a ridiculous amount of memorabilia once owned by the Austen family, they also had a very cool collection of hand-stitched dresses that are reproductions of Regency fashions.

But the best part, it must be said was The Desk. Set off to one side of the dining room, they have Jane’s actual writing desk where she wrote ALL of her novels. It’s positioned next to a window that overlooks Winchester Road, a major coaching road at the time. So Jane would sit there every morning and write. Or, if she had writer’s block (because I’m sure even Jane got writer’s block from time to time – it’s actually a known fact since there’s little evidence of her writing in the 10 years between leaving her childhood home at Steventon and settling in Chawton), she could look out on the road and the pub across the street and observe the people that went through. I can just see her sitting there, making up little stories about the strangers she saw, or gathering up gossip about the people she knew.

Back to the best part- I got to touch The Desk (!!!!!!) It was so cool to get to touch the desk used by one of my literary idols. I’ve only ever done that once before (Laura Ingalls Wilder’s desk at Rocky Ridge Farm), but I was quite honestly too young to remember it very vividly (sorry Mom and Carrie). In fact, we may have just gotten to see the desk. At Jane’s house, you can touch it. It was so awesome! Amazing! Wonderful!

Afterwards, we went into the little shop they’ve made out of one of the outbuildings that came with the house and, after MUCH deliberation, I got a coffee mug and a copy of Persuasion (which is now tied with P&P as my favorite book), as well as a key chain and magnet to remember my pilgrimage. Once that monumental decision was made, we went and had lunch at the pub across the street which has been there since the 1600s.

I must say, it was one of the best days I’ve had since I’ve been here (Thank you, Mommy Tara and Susan!).

Mommy Tara and Me in front of Jane's House!

P.S. Just noticed this is my 27th post- my lucky number! SOOO fitting :) 

Memories, at the corners of my mind!!!!!

COMPOSED A FEW MILES ABOVE TINTERN ABBEY, ON REVISITING THE BANKS OF THE WYE DURING A TOUR. JULY 13, 1798

Tintern Abbey 

      FIVE years have past; five summers, with the length

      Of five long winters! and again I hear

      These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs

      With a soft inland murmur.--Once again

      Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,

      That on a wild secluded scene impress

      Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect

      The landscape with the quiet of the sky.

      The day is come when I again repose

      Here, under this dark sycamore, and view                        

      These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,

      Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,

      Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves

      'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see

      These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines

      Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,

      Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke

      Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!

      With some uncertain notice, as might seem

      Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods,                     

      Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire

      The Hermit sits alone.

                              These beauteous forms,

      Through a long absence, have not been to me

      As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:

      But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din

      Of towns and cities, I have owed to them

      In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,

      Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;

      And passing even into my purer mind,

      With tranquil restoration:--feelings too                     

My friend Jon and Me at Tintern
Summer 2006

      Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,

      As have no slight or trivial influence

      On that best portion of a good man's life,

      His little, nameless, unremembered, acts

      Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,

      To them I may have owed another gift,

      Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,

      In which the burthen of the mystery,

      In which the heavy and the weary weight

      Of all this unintelligible world,                              

      Is lightened:--that serene and blessed mood,

      In which the affections gently lead us on,--

      Until, the breath of this corporeal frame

      And even the motion of our human blood

      Almost suspended, we are laid asleep

      In body, and become a living soul:

      While with an eye made quiet by the power

      Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,

      We see into the life of things.

                                       If this

      Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft--                       

      In darkness and amid the many shapes

      Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir

      Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,

      Have hung upon the beatings of my heart--

      How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,

      O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,

      How often has my spirit turned to thee!

        And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,

      With many recognitions dim and faint,

      And somewhat of a sad perplexity,                               

      The picture of the mind revives again:

      While here I stand, not only with the sense

      Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts

      That in this moment there is life and food

      For future years. And so I dare to hope,

      Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first

      I came among these hills; when like a roe

      I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides

      Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,

      Wherever nature led: more like a man                            

      Flying from something that he dreads, than one

      Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then

      (The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,

      And their glad animal movements all gone by)

      To me was all in all.--I cannot paint

      What then I was. The sounding cataract

      Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,

      The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,

      Their colours and their forms, were then to me

      An appetite; a feeling and a love,                            

      That had no need of a remoter charm,

      By thought supplied, nor any interest

      Unborrowed from the eye.--That time is past,

      And all its aching joys are now no more,

      And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this

      Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur, other gifts

      Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,

      Abundant recompence. For I have learned

      To look on nature, not as in the hour

      Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes                   

      The still, sad music of humanity,

      Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power

      To chasten and subdue. And I have felt

      A presence that disturbs me with the joy

      Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime

      Of something far more deeply interfused,

      Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,

      And the round ocean and the living air,

      And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;

      A motion and a spirit, that impels                             

      All thinking things, all objects of all thought,

      And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still

      A lover of the meadows and the woods,

      And mountains; and of all that we behold

      From this green earth; of all the mighty world

      Of eye, and ear,--both what they half create,

      And what perceive; well pleased to recognise

      In nature and the language of the sense,

      The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,

      The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul                 

      Of all my moral being.

                              Nor perchance,

      If I were not thus taught, should I the more

      Suffer my genial spirits to decay:

      For thou art with me here upon the banks

      Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,

      My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch

      The language of my former heart, and read

      My former pleasures in the shooting lights

      Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while

      May I behold in thee what I was once,                          

      My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make,

      Knowing that Nature never did betray

      The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,

      Through all the years of this our life, to lead

      From joy to joy: for she can so inform

      The mind that is within us, so impress

      With quietness and beauty, and so feed

      With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,

      Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,

      Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all                    

      The dreary intercourse of daily life,

      Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb

      Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold

      Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon

      Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;

      And let the misty mountain-winds be free

      To blow against thee: and, in after years,

      When these wild ecstasies shall be matured

      Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind

      Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,                       

      Thy memory be as a dwelling-place

      For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,

      If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,

      Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts

      Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,

      And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance--

      If I should be where I no more can hear

      Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams

      Of past existence--wilt thou then forget

      That on the banks of this delightful stream                    

      We stood together; and that I, so long

      A worshipper of Nature, hither came

      Unwearied in that service: rather say

      With warmer love--oh! with far deeper zeal

      Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget,

      That after many wanderings, many years

      Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,

      And this green pastoral landscape, were to me

      More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!

                                                              1798.

Obviously, I didn’t write that. But Wordsworth’s poem about visiting Tintern Abbey with his sister Dorothy five years after his initial visit is a great description of how I felt returning to Oxford yesterday with my friend Susan.

My friends Ben, Jen, and Jon
outside the Eagle and Child
Summer 2006

For those of you who don’t know, I spent three weeks in Oxford the summer before my senior year, studying at the St. Hugh’s Summer College. It was one of the best experiences of my life. I lucked out and got to go on the trip with one of my best friends and we met some really amazing people from all over the country (Georgia and Pennsylvania specifically). I now consider one of the best times of my life. I fell in love with the city, in love with the freedom I felt studying in a country I loved with a great group of friends around me.

Susan on the Harry Potter Stairs
at Christ Church

Ever since, I’ve wanted to go back to that time. When I would get annoyed with life or the people around me, I would draw on those memories to lift my spirits. College wasn’t as scary because I’d experienced it before (right down to the uber scary Oxford don who served as my tutor). But when the time came to go back, I was a little scared. Would it be different? Did I build it up to be better than it really was? Could I go there without my friends?

Going to Oxford yesterday with Susan was definitely a bittersweet experience. I couldn’t go back to those wonderful memories and relive them, but I did get to make new memories. I got to see Oxford through Susan’s eyes and really enjoy experiencing the city for the first time because she was. I got to play tour guide and share my memories with my friend. Much to my surprise, I still remembered how to navigate the town. I could still find my way to The Eagle and Child (where I finally got to eat in the room where the Inklings met). I hadn’t forgotten where Blackwells bookstore was. I got us to Christ Church without getting lost. Oxford was just as I remembered it.

Oxford Group 2006

I first read “Tintern Abbey” by William Wordsworth in preparation for my time at Oxford. They assigned it to us, presumably because we would be visiting the Abbey itself. But now it’s taken on a whole new meaning for me. We can never go back to those perfect moments in time that we love to cherish, but we can move forward and build on those times. They become integrated into who we are and how we see things. Memories, like friends, become a part of us, even as we become further separated by time.