Thank you Apollinaire for the word "Surreal"

What in the world have I gotten myself into?

I walk around and I realize that none of this is real. All of this is by definition reality. There are music shops and every store is actually a bookstore that just happens to also have a pharmacy or a sandwich counter.

I was here for a matter of hours before I managed to botch something up. Needed an adapter for my very American laptop. Right. I ended up blowing the the 4 sockets in my room and poor Ellen's next door as well. Heh. Oops. As a result of not having any power in any of the outlets, I relied on my fully charged ipod and manually powered knitting needles. The scarves are coming along smashingly.

There's a little bakery directly round the corner for HMC. It's beautiful. It smells beautiful. The doughnuts look better than any doughnut I have ever seen. I haven't given in to their temptations yet. But I feel my defenses weakening every time I walk past. See, the thing is, it's cool and grey outside. Everything looks dark and mossy. This bakery window sill is painted white and absolutely illuminates every item the bakery has to sell. It's positively inviting.

I've had a falafel and hoummos wrap twice today. At lunch it was coupled with an apple that may have been the most delicious apple in the world. This apple was created and God knew it was the best one, but didn't tell anybody. He let it get bruised in one spot and sit atop a few tiny clementines and grey bananas in a closet of a sandwich shop in Oxford. I found it. I ate it as I wandered around Broad Street. Thought about eating the whole thing: core, seeds, stem and all in honor of Schyler Wood but I didn't.

I tried to find a bench to sit on while I ate F/H wrap #1, but couldn't find one quickly enough, so I spotted a few tables and chairs that I would have considered in the street...next to some impressively full bike racks. I ate most of F/H wrap #1 and someone from 'The Buttery' shop came out to ask me to leave, because the tables were strictly for...mouth full so a head nod was all he got. Had a cup of tea with milk. Oh so good and delicious and the right kind of warm.

As for the outlets, they were fixed, I was a little more careful with my use of an adaptor, and I'm in business! (So is Ellen).
Ellen and I each have our own rooms and we share a very VERY small kitchen and a nice sized bathroom. Not a showerroom. A bathroom. There is no shower fixture. For some reason I can't get the little nuances of the toilet flush down. It's very different than in the US. You have to press the handle with the right amount of vigor for the proper length of time or it doesn't work properly. When I discover the successful equation after a little more research, I'll post that, too.

Ellen invited me to her birthday party on Friday. That way I can meet the other students in a social setting instead of an academic one. I'm overwhelmingly grateful. Overwhelmingly relieved. Overwhelmingly overwhelmed. I know how Fabi and Caio and every international student friend I've ever made and invited to hang out felt. I haven't been the new person at school since freshman year of high school.

It took me all of 35 minutes (or a little bit more) to unpack and get settled. The room still looks rather bare but it looks personalized too. Everything I brought to put on the walls is less than 8 1/2 by 11. So I have two entire walls with nothing at all on them. I may buy ONE poster of the cheapest type I can find.

I've been listening to the music mixes composed and compiled by my dear friends and family. They are excellent because the songs are not affiliated with too many memories of home, so the 20 hours I was without any outside contact at all, I was able to hold it together.

Today I thought I saw Brad Hoekstra and Dr. Corn. Dr. Corn always wears a trench type coat and a driving cap. I walked by a store and the song "Yellow" by Coldplay came on. Ached for 30 seconds. 30 seconds later I was overcome with beauty. All the bikes. There are so many bikes! If Lydia Joy could dream up a perfect world involving bikes, this would be it.

I carry my ipod around with me everywhere but I never listen to it because I want to hear the streets and conversations and rain and footsteps. Everything is dark by 5 and everyone goes home. No one is out past 5:30. Maybe they're all at the pubs. Either way, all the shops are closed. No 24 hour all purpose store at my fingertips, let alone within walking distance. I feel safe and comfortable walking around by myself, but I shall not make it a habit after 5 p.m.

Technically before using the internet, I should have turned in a sheet of paper with lots of info about my computer...like my ethernet address. I don't know what that is or how to find it on a Mac. No one else does either. Tomorrow the IT lady, Sarah, will help me find it.

What else? There's so much more.

I live on the top floor (3rd floor) of Morrison. It's really quaint. I love living on the top floor. The view from my window is beautiful. (Is anyone counting how many times I use that word? Any suggestions for a little variety?)

Mansfield Road constantly reminds me of Kitty Flowers' Freshman 101 class. I have about 15 dollars in USD and I just can't bear to exchange it for like, 9 BP. US economy! What is it with you going to Hell before I have to leave for England! You're making me look bad!

I haven't figured out how to set the alarm on my new watch. It didn't work last night...maybe I can work out the kinks by tomorrow. Without my cellphone, I don't know how to tell myself to wake up. There's not clock in the room.

I have a bag of jolly ranchers and every time I reach in, I always pull out a cherry. Cherry is my least favorite next to Blue Raspberry. I have to dig for the other flavors. I tell ya, not everything is easy.

I made such a big fuss about having sunglasses. I bought an extra pair. I found a pair at Sheena/Lydia's. They're not exactly necessary here. I suppose I knew this subconsciously but still...the just seemed so pressingly vital. The ground is always damp but a nice, unobtrusive damp.

I love my window and want to leave it open all the time. The first thing I did when I got in the room was throw open my window and rejoice! It was also uncomfortable warm in my room and didn't want to mess with the heater, least I break something. (Wish I'd had that kind of reservation about the outlets, but it's all in the past. About 26 or 7 hours in the past.)

The cab ride from the bus station to the college was shared with Alex, from Greece. He'd never even heard of Harris Manchester and studies math. He has family in New Jersey. I was dropped off first and he said he'd pay for the whole cab but I insisted on paying for my half. That was stupid. I should have let him pay it! I woulda saved myself 4 BP! (That's almost 8 USD!)

I feel slightly more gullible than I ever have in my life because I don't know all the particulars of this place yet. There's a key code to go out of college through a gate that's closer to me than the main door, but no one had told me the key code. So I saw 2 guys heading that way and I said, "Excuse me, could you tell me the code to the gate?" Now understand that we're all inside the college, trying to get out, not outside the college, trying to get in. You need the code both ways. The taller one says "I need proof that you're a student here. I can't just give the code out without knowing, you know." I pause and reach into my pockets. I don't have my ID yet. I don't have the formal letter of acceptance I showed my customs friend. I stammer a little, "oh, um, right..."
"I'm only kidding, it's blah blah blah."
Duh. It was funny. I introduced myself. The tall one goes here and the shorter one was his brother.

I'm constantly shifting from flooding with joy and flooding with worry. Both are constant but both rise to the surface with instances of electric appliances or being invited to a birthday party.

I wonder if anyone's down in the pool hall. I might go introduce myself to a few new souls.