I Have the Plague

As most are aware, England has at various times suffered, just as much of the rest of the world, with The Black Death. Specifically in the early- to mid-14th century, and later in the 17th century. Thanks to the great and all-knowing Wikipedia, I stumbled upon a town in England referred to as "the plague village."

Over the last few weeks I have been ill. With what? Oh, this and that. Coughing, sneezing, hacking, wheezing (oh, the rhymes!), conjunctivitis, etc. etc. Now, most of this has nothing to do with The Black Death. None of my lymph nodes are swollen and I haven't been vomiting. Darn! So how do I have The Black Death?

Eyam, "the plague village," was named so because the inhabitants of the town decided to completely isolate themselves from outsiders after the plague began to sweep through the town. According to a few sources on the Interweb, "Ring Around the Rosey," (which we all learned after reaching an age mature enough to handle such a disastrous blow) the nursery rhyme about how fun The Black Death really is, was written about Eyam. Whether or not this is true is irrelevant. What is important here is this:
What does this mean? It means that Nottingham, my current city of residence, is less than an hour away from Plaguetown, England.

Hence, I have the plague. Hence, I haven't been posting lately.

NOTE: It was tough deciding between using the DVD cover for Clive Barker's "The Plague," and the 1992 film "The Black Death." I opted for the added humor of James van der Beek's steaming pile of a career. Don't those Dawson's River kids know that doing one of these stupid movies is the final nail of what is a likely already failing career? When will they learn?? And what the hell was Andy's problem?? Geez...

ALSO: When I say that I have the plague, I am solely referring to the terminal illness and not to the movie. I'd much rather have that than an hour-and-a-half of Dawson fighting the plague or whatever.

I'm Still Alive

Yes, I am still alive. Yes, school has taken precedence to all of this. Will I write anything of substance any time soon? Certainly. I've been traveling the last few weeks, with trips to Dublin and Paris. Lots to share, lots to discuss. But right now, school is kicking my ass all over the place. Know that I love and miss you all. You stay classy, internet.


Also, this isn't me. This is Google Image Search at its best/worst.

I'm Still an Idiot

OK so I'll be honest-- I am known for being somewhat of an idiot. Not in the 'I brush my teeth with dish soap' kind of way, just that at times I appear less intelligent because of my inability to properly articulate what I'm thinking. This includes (but is not limited to) stuttering, stumbling, awkward pauses in the middle of a thought, etc. etc. etc...

Part of me thought that that aspect of my intellectual awkwardness would ease it's way out of my repertoire once I arrived at graduate school. Haha not really...

Here's the set-up: I was in my seminar class (Studies in Environmental History), along with my prof. and the ONE other student (who, while clearly intelligent has difficulty articulating because English is not her first language) in the class (really, using the word 'class' is a stretch, as there are three people in the room-- which, might I add, is my professor's office). So the two-hour long discussion going poorly because Ayuka and I both disliked and failed to completely grasp the readings for this week, and I was trying to inject something into the dialogue in order to keep it going. Now bear with me, this isn't huge, but for someone who is graduate history student it is pretty sad to mix these up, especially in this setting. Anyway-- I went on this three-minute long comment about the history of environment and the viability of writing historically about sound and smell with respect to the environment, and mixed up 'subjective' and 'objective.' Probably would've been better if Prof. Endfield didn't crack a smile and correct me. Ouch. Couple this with me incorrectly counting how many people were in the room last week and I kind of look like an idiot.

At least England isn't changing me for the worse, as I'm already kind of a doofus.

A Flavourful and Skilful (not really) Comment

Forever I have been plagued by a curiosity as to why, oh why words in England are spelled/spelt differently. Is it really necessary? Why can't we all just get along?

Historically speaking, the differences date back to the 19th century when good old Noah Webster first published his dictionary of the English language (according to the interweb, 1828). His reason for changing -our to -or and -ise to -ize, among other things? To show that the English spoke by Americans was unique from that of the Brits. Wow. Yet another excellent display by Mr. Webster (I've never been a huge fan, as an amatuer historian of education: the lesson plan, among other things).

A little more browsing on the ol' Google leads to some comments by some famous names! Hooray!
-GB Shaw said that the US and UK are "two countries divided by a common language."
-Later, Oscar Wilde is quoted as saying that the US and the UK "have really everything in common...nowadays, except, of course, the language."

What got me on this topic, you ask? Well, as I am enrolled in a university (or is it universitie?) in England, I've already been exposed to a fair share of these different spellings. It is just odd to read an academic journal or a handout in class and have the word program spelled 'programme' over and over again. On a minor tangent, the weirdocity went a step further today in my Frameworks for Environmental Management class. We are currently in the middle of learning about and discussing environmental law, so naturally we are discussing the governmental bodies associated with environmental legislation and enforcement. But instead of the EPA, Congress and the Justice Department, we're discussing the European Commission and it's relations with the European Environment Agency, the Commission, the European Parliament and the Court of Justice. Why is this weird? Because any course discussing juridprudential history in some way has been about America. I understand that this sentiment for someone who so desperately ached to attend graduate school in England is a bit, well... stupid, but you have to understand where I'm coming from hurr.

Regardless, I'm sure there will be more ridiculitude of this nature to come, as I am nuts and these people can't spell (although I now write the date and time as they do here: 2.30PM; 2.10.08 for October 2nd, 2008).

My Body is Stupid

So I've been in England for almost two weeks and my body has not adjusted to the time difference. Yes kids, my circadian rhythms are out of whack. I think the best evidence is that I can't fall asleep until about 4am here and waking up any time before noon here makes me groggy and cranky (there is a five hour difference, so for those keeping track at home and without an abacus: 4am England = 11pm New Jersey and noon England = 7am New Jersey).

If anything positive can be said about my out-of-whack body it's that I finally managed to get myself to wake up early and get to bed before midnight (sorta).

Thankfully all of my classes are in the afternoon and the library is open until 10pm (which I must say is a bit aggravating-- at Maryland they were open 'til 11pm), so my two main stops outside of the local Somerfield's and any of the countless bars/pubs I frequent aren't directly affected.

For now I must go spend the rest of the day in the library. Apparently there is a lot of reading to do in graduate school.