Things that make you realise that it's fall

• Candy corn!  (thankfully, my lovely grandmother sent me some)
• A warm sweater under a cosy quilted jacket
• Finding a small strand of doggie hair in said sweater, almost two months after you last saw your puppy
• Crunchy leaves
• Primping before heading out to the cold air

As someone who has experienced New England autumns nearly every year of my life, I can't tell you how much I miss it.  Autumn here sucks, and there are hardly any trees around that I've noticed with falling leaves.  I used to traipse around in the crunchy leaves on my way to class, and now I merely walk on the pavement.  I've realised that going to university in New England is going to be worth it, at least in the autumn, for nothing else but the weather and the atmosphere.

Canterbury

Canterbury Cathedral Cloisters

Canterbury Cathedral

After spending the night at a friend's house in the lovely Kent countryside, we left early to return to school.  I had the morning to myself as brunch is served at 11am on Saturdays.  Then we were departing for Canterbury.
I expected Canterbury to be a quaint town with lovely shops all together, but it is quite touristy.  That didn't take away from its charm, though.  Once you pass through these massive stone gates, you enter Canterbury.  Once you pass the bridge above the "river" (very, very small one) you start seeing more shops.  Eventually there is a McDonald's, Jack Wills, Office, and for some reason about five different Debenham's.  There's also a place called Fenwick, which is apparently specific to Canterbury.  I was only on the first floor, but it was a nice department store, reminding me of what Marshall Field's used to look like, or how some Corte Ingles might look.  Past Fenwick is Zara, H&M, a big Boots, and the like.

I thought these buskers were great - they were singing the entire time I was in the Cathedral, forgetting the words to the songs, but they were very entertaining.

I bought a pair of firetruck red Vans because I needed walking trainers, although I'm now wishing I had bought Superga plimsolls.  I'm tempted to buy a bubblegum pink pair.  Either that or white ones, since they're meant to look messy.  Anyway.  I also got a Cath Kidston makeup bag, and some new makeup from Boots.  I spent the equivalent of $40 at Boots buying No 7 foundation that's not actually that great, an eyelash curler (£14!) but I had coupons so I saved £5 and got the cheapest thing (eyeshadow) free.
Then I ventured off to Canterbury Cathedral solo.  No one else wanted to go, or couldnt' be bothered to pay the £8 entry fee.  It was nice to go there, though.  To be honest, not the prettiest cathedral I've been to (that title still goes to the Pilar in Zaragoza) but it was interesting to think about how old it is, all the people buried there, and the fact that there's still an Archbishop of Canterbury and there's the Archbishop from the year 1110 or something buried there.
After the excitement of Canterbury, I was quite tired.  I'm not sure if I'll go back any time soon; there's not much there besides the shopping.  It might be worth it to go back sometime in the spring an explore the side streets.  It's only a £3 train ticket or something.

How to Succeed on a Gap Year Without Really Trying

Always say yes.

Within reason, that is. 

A few good things have happened to me just by saying yes.  First, I ended up joining the school musical, which is Evita this year.  I’m just in the ensemble, but I don’t really care.  I was convinced when one of my friends said, “It’ll give you something to do after school,” which is true.  It’s my Monday and Friday afternoons, for two hours.  Tomorrow will be our third rehearsal, and to be honest, it’s been a little dull because the ensemble just does a load of background noise for the songs.  We’re missing Peron because he had “glandular fever” which I had no idea what it was but helloooo it’s just mono.  Not that that doesn’t suck, but I had no idea what everyone was going on about.  Evita was also ill, so she hasn’t sung yet.  None of the principles (since there are only about five) know their lyrics because we haven’t had enough rehearsals, but that’s alright.  It’ll be good fun, I keep telling myself.  At the very least I get to spend time with some fun people.

Another thing – I started playing field hockey.  I was never drawn to playing it at my prep school, which was very, very good at field hockey.  Which is probably why I never wanted to play.  And as many family members and family friends joked this summer that I would come back with a British accent (no) and that I would play hockey, I scoffed in their faces.  Surely, I never would.  But last week, in a whirlwind, I was thrown into playing defence in a match.  I had no idea what was going on, as I don’t think I had ever bothered to watch a match at school.  It was fun, though, and very exhilarating to play and run.  I got sore a good way – my abs ached and my legs and back hurt a little, but in a rewarding way.

And last night, I swam with my clothes on.  I know that doesn’t sound so risqué, but for me it was different.  I thought I remembered a moment when I was younger and I didn’t go swimming with my friends because I didn’t have a swimsuit.  I don’t even know if that actually happened or if it was a weird psychological moment happening, but I did it to redeem myself for not taking risks when I was younger.

At prep school, there was always, “No, I can’t do that because _____________.”  And usually that space was “homework,” “it’s late,” “that’s silly,” “I’m clothed,” or “I don’t have the balls to do that”.  This is the time I throw all of that away and do everything.  I am legally able to drink, club, smoke (ew I never will), so there really aren’t any rules on what I can and cannot do beyond my own personal restrictions.  That’s a great feeling to have.

How to succeed on your gap year without really trying?  Just say yes.  Just don’t get arrested.

A Mature Moment

I was planning my half term break today in a Starbucks (internet was down at school!  the horror!) and I had to look up where my friend's school is so I could figure out how to get there to pick her up.  Basically, her school is thousands of years old.  Mine isn't.
When we wrote essays describing our ideal school, I said that I wanted some place that would be easy to travel from.  I got a school that has a rail station a five minute's walk away, so they did satisfy my requests.  Partway through the summer, I panicked.  My school is in a lively town (it's small, but there's plenty of shops on the high street, a cinema, etc.)  What I really wanted was a school with a history, with traditions and prestige.  My school totally doesn't have that.  It makes me really sad to think about because part of the reason I loved my old school was that it made my proud to look at it and realise that I went there, that it was part of me.  My school wasn't ancient (hey, we just don't have those in America) but it was relatively old (before the turn of the century) and was very prestigious as far as schools go.  So my friend gets to walk out in the countryside every morning and go to school at a place that has a history and a story.  I see a strip club outside my boarding house window.
Honestly, I could keep drawing comparisons and getting more depressed about the differences.  If I don't think about it, it's fine.  But then I remember it and I get really pissed.  I don't want to sit here for nine more months.  It's really not that nice.  I'd rather be in the countryside, seeing an amazing sight every morning as I trudge along to class.
Then I decide to be mature.  I can't change the past - what I asked for as I sat around a table with six other applicants, writing my essay on that January morning - but I can relish in what I have.  I can get to London in 40 minutes!  That's pretty amazing!  I have Starbucks right here, I have H&M and Boots and WH Smith.  I'm going to be spending the four years after this in the rural Northeast of America.  I get this year to be 'urban.'
I become even more mature when I make the decision that I want to be proud of where I am for the rest of my life.  I felt pride when I walked past the beautiful vista of the lake at school with the rolling hills behind it, and a beautiful sunset falling on a warm spring night.  I was so happy seeing that.  I want to be sure that when I'm older, I can be happy with where I am.  Whether that be in London, New York, the middle of nowhere in France, Spain, or America, I want to be proud to look at it.
It's still really tough to think that I'm already really bored of this town and it's only been four weeks.  But it also prompts me to take initiative - to travel around where I am and to get into the English countryside that everyone raves about.  I just have to be mature enough to do that.

Photo Class

I have some photos that I've taken, but they're on the school network.  I'll have to upload them soon.
Anyway.
I've never taken photography class before, but I've wanted to for the past few years.  When I started at my prep school, I realised that many people had DSLR cameras that they just toted around with them during dances, football games, with friends, etc.  Looking back on that, it's amazing that a fourteen year old would have a $1000 Nikon or Canon, but that's irrelevant.
I got really into the idea of having a DSLR, and even wrote a few embarrassing essays in 10th grade about it.  I became attached to the idea of having a camera that would surely open up the world to me.  In June this year, I finally saw the light.  I was gifted a camera for graduation/birthday, and finally got to pick one out at the store.
When I took my first few photos with my Canon T2i/550D, I was thrilled.  Once I started getting the hang of it, I thought I was taking some pretty awesome pictures.
So I started in a photo class here.  To be honest it's been a little boring at times.  Our teacher tends to ramble about technical stuff when really all of us just want to take some photos.  We started with photograms and pinhole (which was truly a challenge) but we've finally moved on to film.
I developed my first set of negatives yesterday, and we'll develop them into photos on Monday.  I made the daft mistake of opening the camera with the film still inside (I know, I know) so some of the photos are partially black, but a few came out.  I can hardly describe the feeling of seeing those negatives.  To know that I made an actual, tangible photograph is really exciting to me.  I felt so empowered having the camera (Zenit) in my hands, I was taking pictures of people's feet, little rocks in the grass, flowers, etc.  It was a lot of fun.
If I think about the goals I have for this year, which I'm meaning to write down, I think that taking the photography class is truly an accomplishment.  I've wanted to do it for some time, and I'm already getting the result that one should after doing something fulfilling, if that makes sense.  That, to me, means that the gap year is already sort of worth it.  Maybe after I go to Italy and Switzerland during half term, I'll be even more excited to say that.

Oxford Photos

Oxford

The morning started with an alarm twenty minutes earlier than I would have liked.  I took a cab (about £4) to the train station (five minute walk) because my parents are very paranoid.  The ticket was £53, so thank god for railcards or it would have been way worse.  Once I got to Paddington (after taking the tube from St Pancras), I got a cappuccino and a croissant and was very pleased.  I had a moment of remembering the Paddington Bear stories from when I was little.  However, I could not enjoy my croissant and Hemingway on the train as I had planned - the train was packed.  We stood up the entire ride!
But once we got to Oxford, I forgot about how stressful it was planning out this whole day.  I spent two hours looking around by myself.  I tagged on to tours of Trinity and Hertford Colleges, and learned all about the British university system.  The morning alone solidified the belief that I conceived when I was alone in Barcelona for two hours - I really love travelling alone.  This is kind of an issue because my parents don't want me going anywhere by myself.  Being in Oxford by myself was refreshing because I took pictures like a dork and I didn't care if people were looking at me because I had my lovely Canon T2i.  Ha.  That's got to be one of the greatest thing about having this camera - you look legit taking pictures.  But I loved taking pictures.

I did a little shopping and got a Cath Kidston ticket holder for my anticipated rail journeys.  Love it, and totally worth £8.  I bought some postcards, including one in sepia that has a picture of the Radcliffe Camera (above) at dawn with fog.  I decided to start a collection of postcards for every place I visit, so that when I have my own apartment in a few years, I can put them up on a wall and admire my accomplishments.  If you've seen The Good Guy, sort of like his wall.  Or Jumper.  He has a wall of travel pictures, too.

It was a very enjoyable day.  I had my perfect Pret toastie again (mozzarella, pesto, and tomato on whole grain) and got sore from walking (a rewarding feeling).  I would have loved to stay for longer, but I'll just have to go back.  

That day (which was Friday, by the way) made me think that I need to see more of the UK.  I asked my parents about doing a homestay, and they don't want me going anywhere by myself.  That infuriates me, although I know it's a safety thing.  They're just having a difficult time trusting a place new place.  I just got to the point where I could get to New York by myself (that was always fun).  Now I'm starting anew, and I'm going to have to convince them.  Before I actually got here, I worried about them letting me travel with other people.  But now i'm actually here, so they're going to have to let me do things, instead of thinking about it.

Today for the first time in a long time, I was really sad that the weekend is over.  I spent all of Saturday in bed watching TV and films.  At my old boarding school, I was always working all weekend, stressed, running around, sleeping too late, trying to do laundry.  Here it's more leisurely, and I enjoy having free time.  At my old school, it never really made a difference when the weekend was over, now that I think about it.  Here, it means I have to get up at 7am and then spend all day puttering around, being bored during the free time at lunch.  I'd rather be watching How I Met Your Mother (I'm on episode 14 of season 1, and it's only been three or four days)!  Or exploring somewhere else.

So, farewell, weekend.  On to two more episodes of HIMYM before bed.