Home II

Laying here, listening to the new Augustana album, feeling pretty mellow, but, as promised, it's time to write some more, do some more painting, hopefully better this time.

The Apple Tree

In her front yard stands an old apple tree, not a large one, but one that was around when the house was built years ago. In the winter blues the tree looks naked and spindly, throwing its shadow about the lawn as if to demonstrate its dominance in this small corner of the world. High above its topmost branches the stars scatter across the night sky, Orion in the east, Cassiopeia above, and to the west the glow from the city obscures the western fairytales. On the porch, just on the edge of this scene sit the boy and the girl. She is sitting in the lone chair, rocking gently back and forth, he sits next to the post, one arm wrapped around it to keep himself warm on this chill night. Between them flash bolts of rose colored electricity, riddled and laden with timidity and curiosity.
As the night wears on Orion treads his weary way across the heavens towards home. As he strode past he turned to look down. The girl no longer sat in the chair, but rather on the step next to the boy. His arm was more determinedly hugged about the post, unwilling to surrender to the impulse the set his heart beating quicker, the urge to simply place his arm about her and hold her safe from all the world. Her hands folded quietly in her lap screamed out to be taken in hand and held. Slowly her head wavered, then came to light gently upon his shoulder. Neither one of them moved, simply sitting there, leaning on each other for support.
Orion smiled to himself, and continued on his way. From his elevated position he could see around the bends that these two could not. Soon they would come to comfort each other, they would sit with an arm around each other when the winter winds blew, in the spring sunshine they would run and play, but by the time he came around again in the winter, they would have forgotten what it was to simply hold hands and let the world turn by them. He closed his eyes as he thought of how they would fall apart for the want of that one truth, but thousands of winking stars hid his emotions from the contented couple below.

Only one tonight, as I am exhausted, and there's only so much I can think about at one time. Not gonna lie, some of the stuff on this Augustana album is just absolutely ridiculously awesome.
It's always tough when you realize you know what you want, and where you hope you're going, but that you have to wait to get there. Oh, well, that's life I reckon. I'm off to dreamland.

"Hold me down sweet and low
Little girl
Hold me down sweet and low
and I'll carry you home"

-JK

Home

Here we are, sitting by the fire on Christmas night. I could regale you with tales of the airports, and my illness, doctors and car rides and candy and gifts, but you know, when it all boils down those things don't mean a lot. What does mean a lot? Togetherness? Bollocks, that's just a word, and even worse it's a word that avoids true meaning in preference of psychological weight. For example, I'm not together with many of the people that mean a great deal in my life. I am with some of the most important ones, but being together with those you care about is usually impossible.

Christmas is that time when we remember, yeah, everything. I remember it all. Not necessarily because of a particular fondness for these memories, or the overwhelming urge to wallow in them, but rather because these are my memories, they are a part of me, and I choose to remember. Without this particular collection of memories I become nothing more than I was a few years ago, and let's face it, that dude may have deserved what happened, maybe not, but it definitely had to happen to him in order for him to become me. And so, it's not a sad night sitting here by the fire, but kind of a happy one. It's a celebration. So, we're going to celebrate, by going back to a crucial night, and looking at some paintings.

The Lake

The courtyard hung out over the lake in the moonlight. The silence of the night is broken by students laughing and splashing out on the dock in the middle. Despite the swimmers it's a cold night, clear and cold, with the stars dotting the sky above, just barely visible through the glow of the streetlights. On the balcony however the only sounds that can be heard are the gurgle of the fountain, and the cool rush of the wind sweeping over the campus.
Seated on a bench near the fountain sit a young couple, her head leaning tenderly on his shoulder. His arm around her draws her in tight, shielding her from the chill night air as best he can. As the moon bathes them in a glow a faint glistening tear rolls down her freckled cheek. As the stars gaze closer they see that it is not alone, and that many tears have woven their way delicately across that soft hillside. Stealing a quick glance at the young man reveals that although his eyes are dry, his lip is trembling, and there is an ache behind his eyes. He draws his feet up under him, and as though his resolve is being pulled from the bricks themselves he gives her one last hug. He stands up, she reaches for his hand, but they both know it's too late. He brushes her hair back behind her ear, and with a murmured word in her ear turns, and walks down the wall to the gate. Her hand hangs in the air, reaching out for him, but he never looks back. Perhaps it was resolve that steadied him, perhaps it was pity, knowing that she needed to let him go, either way, she never knew. She never saw the bruised hand, the scratched knuckles, and the blood left on the stone wall around the corner. She never saw just how wrong he had been all along.


The Cubbyhole

Down the street from the library, across from the Mosque, stood an old house. A grand old house, one that had seen many days of glory and happiness before falling upon hard times. These were not those days. These were the days where the shingles fell off, and beer bottles were thrown on the front lawn. The front parlor that had once been well furnished and comfortable housed a stereo system, and a dance floor. The kitchen held nothing but dirty dishes and half empty fridges. The carpeted upstairs that had once been the residence of wealthy men, was now a ramshackle cross between a dormitory and a bar.
Up the narrow back stairs to the third floor lay a rickety broken door, hanging from its hinges. Through that door lay a dingy apartment, more dishes piled in the sink, more bottles filling the garbage cans. Across the hall from the refrigerator was a small cut out of the wall. About four feet high by 10 feet long, deep enough to pile suitcases, and desks and an old television. Behind a layer of stored materials however one could see the protruding foot of a young man. He lay in a rag tag collection of blankets and donated pillows, sheltered for the night, even for the weekend, from the cold snows, the drunks downstairs, and most of all from the memories locked up in his own room. Soon enough Sunday morning would come, soon enough he would have to leave this sanctuary behind and go back to the real world., soon, but not now...for now, he sleeps in quiet, surrounded by the cast off belongings of a house without care.


There's two for you. I shall try to get more of them down while I have time over break. :) I know I promised you all a lot less angst, well, angst isn't coming, this is just a realistic look at the things which were. A celebration of the reality and forgiveness of this most peaceful night. Merry Christmas to all.

-JK

Traveling: Gatwick

Well, fine then. Challenge accepted. I had planned to regale you with tales from Gatwick airport, but the whole I-can't-plug-my-computer-into-the-wall thing kind of dampened that. And there was the Polish family...eh, we'll start at the beginning.

Sunday night, I went down to Mass with all of my traveling kit on my back. After Mass I went across the tracks to the Macky for a cheeky pint and watch some NFL to get me in the Muhrican mood. Instead of eating alone I ran into three Cobras who were just there chilling for the evening. So I sat with them and we reminisced about all the happenings of the previous week. You know, the, "My liver hurts, who did we fight on Wednesday, were you there, where were you last night" tales. After a while though it was time for me to go catch my train, and this may sound odd, but having someone to say goodbye to made it kind of tough to leave. I know I'll be back in 8 days, but I'm gonna miss the lads.

So I walked back to the train station at Cathays, managed to avoid stacking it on the icy sidewalks, and waited on the platform for the train. It took me to Cardiff Central, another short wait and I was on my regional train, bound for Reading. I caught a few z's, and listened to music. At reading we had a miserable wait on the cold platform for the train to Gatwick, which was not well sealed, hence not much warmer. So for the next hour and a half I froze to death. At gatwick the south terminal was a bustle of people, the shops were open and every one was walking around...at one in the morning. I caught the shuttle to the North Terminal, it was the complete opposite, it was essentially a campground, different groups all spread out and traveling together.

I found a sneaky cubby behind a check-in booth along the back wall, I climbed i nto this little 3 foot wide nook and slept next to a pillar for a few hours. I woke up in the morning just in time to go queue for checking, went through security, bought myself a fine bottle of Welsh Whiskey at the duty free shop...heh heh, duty. Soon enough our gate was called, and we boarded our plane. Yadda yadda, it's all the same. Then we landed in atlanta, but that's too much to write right now, jetlag+ chunder dragon=sleepytime. will try to keep up better. Cheers.

-jk

Tea and Balloons

don't have a tremendous amount of time for a full and proper post, but I feel I just have to write. Maybe it's the snow on the ground, maybe it's the peppermint tea I'm using to hide the fact that I'm getting sick, or maybe it's the way that Wales has opened up to me. I no longer feel so much like an outsider. I live here.

You know how they say that when things are getting bad you have to step back in order to get perspective. In some ways I think this is my step, my 3,000 mile step back. Things in Terre Haute were so foggy. There was an emotion tied to every lamppost like a red balloon abandoned by a child who grew up. And sure, Cardiff will eventually have memories for me. Like the tree we used when we were walking between clubs, or that doorway...okay, so most of my memories of this place consist of a sandwich shop, and a football pitch for now. Sadly I haven't had the time to travel much, spring will change that.

Have to run now, Eng Management and then four hours of fun time with structures and advanced concrete. w00t! Will try to write more later.

Patterns and The River Bank

Sorry I haven't written in a long time, but nothing of import has really happened. Classes and social life has fallen into a pattern, I mean, I vary what sandwich I get on friday when I got to the deli with the Irish guys, but this past week has been frightfully quiet, except for one occurrence that doesn't need to be detailed.

Granted there was the social, during which I may have dented a wall with my skull, and the Defensive Backs may have had chugging contests with Cosmopolitan's, and during a game of Never Have I when the question was have you ever made out with a cheerleader one of the cheerleaders raised her hand. We might have done blocking drills in the street, tackling drills on the sidewalk, and who knows, maybe someone slid down a railing that ran for four flights of stairs after drinking a fair bit (that was totally me) but you know, just a nice quiet night. We trained, it was brutal, people got hit, generic football story. I'm probably going to stop telling those unless I pull a 60 yard reception, in which case be prepared to read about it in great and gory detail.

The food here is blah, the weather is rubbish, but when push comes to shove there's still people that care about you...maybe it's cause you're the prop of the O-line, or maybe you're just a third string tight end, but no fraternity has ever had a stronger bond. Now it's time for one of those stories. The ones with a kernel at the center that may or may not be true, and most of the rest is of of questionable veracity.


The River Bank

It was around half four when Adam tapped on the window of house 3. He glanced at the shade inside the glass pane, wondered what was behind it, what it hid that he had never seen, and never would. The navy curtain trembled and a fingertip appeared, followed by a dark braid, finally a shining green eye edged around and winked at him. With a flutter the curtain was released and left to sway in the chilling Welsh wind.

Moments later the door to the house opened and a short bundled figure came tentatively out. A lock of black hair blew across her eyes, leaving only a small patch of her ivory forehead peeking out. Adam sucked in a breath as the wind hit him, jarring a memory of the ruby lips that were hidden by that scarf, the delicate cheek that ran from the lips to the eyes and was always warm to the touch, no matter how the weather turned. The wind abated, and as the black velvet fell from her face, first one, then the other emerald eye shone out at him with a blur of emotion. She stepped to him and slipped an arm through his as they turned towards the river. Adam could feel her huddled against his leeward side, trying to hide from the wind, and perhaps something more.

As they strolled underneath the shedding elms the leaves crunched under their feet. No word was spoken, none needed to be. The shared memory of the previous night was playing in both minds simultaneously. A whispered sentiment was snatched by the swirling breeze and thrown forward along with a pile of leaves. Adam's head inclined slightly and he glanced down at her. Her eyes were shining up at him, her scarf had slipped slightly in front and he could see her parted lips trembling. A tremor ran through his arms as instinct called for him to take her in his arms and make everything better, but his mind sent an aftershock of reality that kept his hands firmly planted in his pockets. This time the murmured apology struck softly upon his ears. His mouth twisted at one side as he searched for a response. Instead her finger alighted across his mouth, silencing him. "Adam, it was my fault. You were just doing the right thing and giving me someone to talk to when I needed it most. It was wrong of me to kiss you."

He tried to speak but she continued, "I know about how you feel. You didn't do anything wrong. I kissed you, and you left in order to protect both of us. I just hope you don't hate me."

Adam gazed into her eyes, he could see that she was desperately hoping that he would say something to fulfill the dream, to turn disaster into victory. He briefly considered it, but then his resolve was steeled by another burst of Welsh fury, "Rowan, I know nothing happened, but I feel as though I wronged you, first by giving you the impression something could be there, and then by leaving you so abruptly. The truth is I simply cannot be what you need, there's someone waiting for me."

There was a pause as his words sank in, then her eyes dropped to his chest and her head nodded slightly. "I know."

The sun was setting early this time of year, the fading rays glinted off of the river and up to light the two under the trees. Adam drew her in and they embraced, then began the long walk back up to the houses, both knew that neither was what the other truly wanted. They assumed that they weren't what they needed either, but the winter was to prove them false. There were many more walks along the river, never hand in hand, and only close when the Welsh winds blew cold. When the springtime flowers bloomed they looked for the pair to come strolling along the Taff. They often saw Rowan, and sometimes she was alone, sometimes she was with a different man, but Adam never came back to the trail after that winter. Sometimes the sun caught Rowan gazing towards it as it sank, wondering where he had gone, and wishing she could have met the girl that had so captivated him.

Annnnnd I don't work there anymore!

So, Guy Fawkes night was awesome, the only problem was not being able to pronounce the street we were partying on. I certainly met some cool people though, drank some cider...beer...rum...more beer. We also got some sweet fireworks...the bottle rockets here are quite spectacular, even better we made bazooka's out of paper cups in order to have directional fire. Sadly I had to leave since I had early training, hopefully this weekend we'll have a reprisal.

Sunday wasn't great, but we won't talk about that. The bus ride back was entertaining though. Sadly there was no 'Story Time with Steffan', but there was a rousing round of Chicago. Not the musical, more the chant in rounds that involves wordplay. The chorus goes "I used to work in Chicago at the old department store. I used to work in Chicago Iiiiiiii don't work there anymore." What follows are innocuous statemets, that can be turned into obscene reasons for the lack of employment.

After we got back everyone split up to take kit home and then meet up later at Walkabout. We got down there a bit early, and couldn't get into the pub, so we went up to another one on the same street. Cardiff played Swansea in football on sunday though, which meant there were people picking fights everywhere. We had just ordered when 10 cops came in, half went upstairs, the others cordoned off the side doors. We sat down to drink our beers, when one of the bobby's came over and told us we had to drink up, they were putting a squeeze play on soon to clear all the drunks out. So we pounded our pints as we walked through the bar in front of the police to the other door.

We went back down to Walkabout, got some hot dogs and chips and watched football for a while. Coors were only 1.50 each so I got some Muhrican back in me. After things died down we went up the street to Lakota, just myself, Benny, Charlie and Gareth. Drinks there, then on to Live Lounge where a Guns 'n' Roses cover band was playing. As cover bands go they weren't bad actually. By 11:30 though we were tired, so we agreed to leave after knockin' on Heaven's Door, but right after that was Sweet Child o' Mine, so naturlich we stayed for that.

One cab ride later the long day ended. It was rough taking a loss, but we know now what to work on, and we'll hit harder next week. Ooo-bloody-rah! "A woman came into the store one day asking for a tennis racket." "A tennis racket from the store?" "A tennis racket from the store she wanted...my backhand she got! Annnnnnnnd I don't work there anymore!"

-JK

Guy Fawkes night

So, it's been almost a week since I last wrote, but this week has been pretty crazy. Since our first game is Sunday football has stepped up a notch, and it's intense. Then there's classes, good grief, all we've been doing is direct stiffness method (woo structures) and such like. Absolutely murderous matrix algebra, although today our Structures prof explained Gaussian Substitution in a way so that I finally understand it, but it's still a mathematical problem to me, it's tough to relate to real world. In geology we've been doing stereo nets for analysing rock slope stability, it's pretty cool, although a lot of the people are having trouble drawing the points and circles.

That's how classes have been going. Not much to say about football, we're all stoked, Sunday we're gonna go smash up Bristol and I cannot wait.

It's been a fun week on the whole. On tuesday Keiran, Decklan, David and I went to WOW (the great sandwich shop) for lunch. It's a lot of fun hanging out with the Irish guys, although I find I can't relate their stories to other people without imitating the accent too. Love the sandwiches at this place though, Karl and I went this morning for a sausage roll for breakfast. Two massive fresh pieces of break loaded with everything good for 2.50 with a student card, can't really beat it.

Tonight we're all gonna go out and have a bit of fun, but nothing major since we have some light training tomorrow morning and then a match on sunday, but hey, it's Guy Fawkes night, and everybody knows the best way to show you love something is to blow up a piece of it. So, fireworks it is then, hopefully I won't get set on fire. On to deeper thoughts.

Today I went out to the store after the sun had set. The rain is still coming down in that steady mist that we've been under for 4 days now. The streetlights halos reached down over our heads. There were about 20 of us walking up the road, all spread out in groups. 3 on their way back from Lidl, 2 girls who came up from Queen street shopping, a group of classmates, all of us spread out over the 300 yard stretch of road. And yet it felt crowded. The ghosts of years of students lives hung in the mist. It wasn't terrifying, or creepy, it was just a sense of years and years of hopes and dreams that had lived and died in these countless windows. None of us think about this much, we all have a bed, and a shower, and a desk, but who was here last year. Who had to lay on this mattress last year with the spring that buries into your shoulder when you sleep? Whose posters were up on this wall last year? Was there love, hate, depression or happiness? Or like all of us, was it a mix of the four? Was it just another life, unremarkable except for the fact that it was here? This complex is a puddle, we come and go, and we turn it into our image, but when we go away it will calm and go back to the way it was before we came. It doesn't care for the story how everything got flipped turned upside down and I'd like to take a minute just sit right there I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air.

No, it's not that the deepness or thoughtfulness were fake, but this is life, it's sad, it's funny, and boy if it doesn't surprise you. ;)

Now this looks like a job for me
So everybody, just follow me
Cause we need a little score, a TD
And I'm to bust the head of this safety.

-JK

Love

So, this morning I had a realization. Some of you reading may already know what that was, some of you can figure it out pretty quick. Maybe watching too much Scrubs has made me really think about life and love, maybe I've realized that if I'm willing enough to hurl myself bodily into people twice my size just so I can get back up and do it again, then I should fight for something that means even more. Then came the realization that all I want to do is spend every dime I have (which is zero, all I have are 20p coins) on a plane ticket back.

Love isn't something that you approach statistically, it's not something you just do if you 'feel' it. Love is that thing that happens when you realize you have grown up, and the thing you really want is already in your life. Suddenly all the potential future adventures pale in comparison to that need. All my dreams were exactly that, dreams, but now I realize that the thing I want has been staring me in the face. Sadly, some piece of logic deep down inside has insisted I stick this year out, get the piece of paper, but in reality, for the possibility of this one thing happening, I would live forever in a hovel like the one I'm in now, and eat spaghettios and grilled cheese, if only I could come home at night to a smile from her.

So, if you're in Wales and wondering why I failed to continue my streak of drinking and socializing with anyone and everyone this week, now you know the answer. Some things in this life are worth fighting for, waiting for, and working for. If a jersey with my name on it is worth the battering I take every week (and it totally is) then for damn sure this is worth going to the ends of the earth.

Now all that's left is to work and pray that my road leads me home as swiftly as possible. Now time for a shoddy poem.

A Home near the corn

As the skies turn gray and rain falls down
I can never tell if Wales is welcoming me or not
These rolling hills where ancient men lived
These forests where the deer ran proud
These rivers and bays, the cool clear springs
These are not for me

Give me a home in the fields that lie gold in the sun
And a shed by the brook where the rabbits run
A garden out back and a house on the hill
Give me snows in the winter, make me cold and forlorn
But for the sake of this angel
Give me a home near the corn

Fair play and lashing

Not really much of a descriptive title, but those are some of my new favorite expressions over here. Fair play lines up with 'Fair enough' and other such murmurs of lack of disapproval. Lashing however, well, it's less a word, and more an experience, it is an ethereal idea, one of those rare concepts that can drag mankind up from the dusty hovels in which he dwells to contemplate the universe and the meaning of life...yeah, is pretty much means getting schwasty-faced and running around shenanigizing.

I'm not going to go back and recap the weekend, cause let's face it, most of my time was spent away at camp, or out with the team. We did have a birthday party for Sagarika :) over at Uni Kitchen, sadly I was so knackered from camp all week that I was essentially worthless...except for baiting the posh NY girl...I do love irritating people who feel superior but are in fact superfluous. That's right ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it's Big Word Night...maybe it's cause I've been smacked in the head more than a rented ginger donkey, or maybe it's lack of sleep, either way, fair play.

So, Wednesday night was social night with the Cobras and Cheerleaders. I went as the obligatory cowboy...I mean, since I own 90% of the costume anyway. So pre-lash was at Matt's house...or at least one of them was. It was only me, Danny and Matt, so we pounded a pint or two, then went up to the Woodville, there we ran into about half the crew. Woodville was really expensive though, and kind of snobby about serving a bunch of guys in drag and random costumes, so we bailed and went down to the Mackintosh, one pint, then juked to Gassy jacks before cutting back to Vulcan. That's where we ran into the cheerleaders...and all the trouble/fun started. We then commenced to lash about, then headed up to Solus for a proper party. Here is where the story stops, what happens at the Lash stays at the Lash, but in all fairness, I did not get arrested, or in generally do anything terrible. I actually turned down a girl who offered to trade me her friend for my cowboy hat...stupid slag.

Today was nice, just an easy lazy day. Well, up until training. Both our fullbacks were missing, so Ryan took TE and I took FB, and we pounded ourselves...or rather, we just ran and the defense took care of pummeling us. I've been kicked, stomped, punched, slammed on the ground, and headbutted. My toe is bleeding, my nose bled, my arms are so sore I can't lean on anything, my hands ache and I had a brilliant time, despite my tactical chunder during scrimmage. Sadly I forgot to dragon. (brief explanation of terms, a tactical chunder should be self-explanatory, but to dragon is to wrest victory from the very jaws of defeat by flapping one's arms and roaring mid spew, leading to a legendary compilation of pain and awesome.)

Now though I've had a shower, and some sweet chicken nuggets...woot. Time for a brief chat, then off to bed. Bristol in a week and a half...gonna be ledge. Hopefully soon I'll have more deep thoughts to share. Cheers.

-JK

The International House

There is a sadness embedded over here
It creeps in between the steel and stone
While we may sit at dinner together
Hearts and minds drowned out by chatter
At night we lie alone

Far from our countries, far from our homes
Broken hearts hung on poster-board walls
With pictures and phrases and bits of a tune
We all sit and pretend that we aren't in our rooms
The pubs and the clubs keep our feet here
Even while our minds wander the paths we know
But when the music fades and dancing stops
After friendly goodbyes and quiet walks
At night we lie alone

Stars and Boulevards

Finally friday, whew! It's been a long week, what with classes and football. Last night we trained pretty hard, my performance was abysmal, couldn't catch, couldn't hit, then got a hip sprain in the first scrimmage play. Oh well, what doesn't kill you and all that jazz.

Pretty good day today though, classes were boring, but hanging out with people in between classes is fun. Talking politics with Scott and Alex, then sports and girls with Kieran and Decklan. We've also assembled a little group for the walks back to Talybont. Arna, Alex, Tanvir and I all live here, and Karl lives nearby, so it certainly lightens the walk when you have people to chat with. We started with Russian Literature today, and ended up with bear fighting....which is about how every conversation should end ever.

No particularly deep thoughts so far today, just resting, thinking of how bad my arm hurts. Tonight we're going out to meet the guys from Imperial before camp starts tomorrow. Don't worry if I don't contact you on Saturday...or Sunday until the evening. I'll be out hitting people 8 hours a day two days in a row, sounds like a classic weekend.

At least last night we got some free entertainment. It was smurf night as some student club in Cardiff, so that means there were more scantily clad blue women than James Cameron could have imagined.

Other than that not much has happened, classes go on, I get it more and more every day which I reckon is a good thing. That's about all for now, time to catch a nap before heading down to walkabout. Cheers.


-JK

quick clays and quicker plays

Well, wearily waiting for the waning of the light, I hereby warn the world of the approaching wraith...thursday. That's right, it's Wednesday night and I wrote a 300 word essay in about 20 minutes...quite a decent one I might add, I was able to get on a track with it and just run.

Geology today was interesting, we examined quick clays today, which is actually a pretty fascinating material. Essentially it's standard clay, but once it's disturbed it turns into a liquid in a matter of seconds. It's complicated electrochemistry, but essentially it's now mostly water, but if you add salt it turns back into clay. It's pretty cool.

We had a tutor meeting...it was pretty pointless. I said hi to my tutor, she said hi back...that was it. The free food was nice though, never turn down free food. I got to hang out with Arna more today, she's cool. We had an impromptu geography quiz on the map Alex has in his binder, I think everyone was shocked I get them all right.

Alex and I have been walking back together, he lives down in house 21, and we're usually sitting together anyway. Usually we talk about politics, or history, or some such crap. It's fun, and makes it less miserable walking back after a long day.

Tonight I went for a first lift, as much weight as I've lost, I think a lot of it was in my muscles. I couldn't throw up 80 kilo like I used to. It felt good though, getting back into it. Time to get stronger and hit people harder.

This weekend we have a camp with ICL, I get to pay those guys back for not letting me into their school, woot. crazy weekend though, meet up Friday night at Walkabout, crash early, practice all day saturday, bar hopping with the guys that night, practice all day sunday, Sagarika's birthday party at night. Should be a lot of fun.

This year is going to take forever, but hopefully with school and football I can focus on one week at a time. Not like it's tough, so much DE to relearn, so much new concrete and geology. Oh well, nothing like a fun busy schedule to make me forget where I am.

Well, it's time for me to pass out, have to get up early and print of a paper for management. So long world, good night moon.

-JK

Pip

Oh, if only Dickens could see what South Park did with Great Expectations. It is so unbelievably awesome. Like, Robot Monkeys awesome, genesis devices awesome, so completely better than the original. Danny just finished showing me a card trick, he's a nice guy.

Tonight's pretty good, just chilling, had nachos...yeah, pointless stuff, but it's a pretty pointless day. So, now I'm watching South Park...gotta kill a few braincells after today, I actually understood the steel design lecture, I had to explain it to a few people, it was especially surprising since I fell asleep five minutes in and understood nothing, when I woke up 10 minutes later it all made sense. Woo for fresh starts. Kind of miss Rose though, I already feel the pressure of exams coming, and it's four months away.

I miss home today, quite a bit. Although it might be less home I miss, and more her. The home has become a concept to me. I'm not sure where my home will be, but it's not here. Music helps. All the music I used to listen to but haven't lately, all my good American Music. A&A, Blink, Anberlin, it all carries me back across the ocean. Usually it's associated with driving. Terre Haute in winter, Dashboard, TH in spring, Anberlin, TH in fall and the road to Chicago Angels and Airwaves. I guess in some ways that became my home for the past four years. I miss the lake and the woods, the fields and the creek, the fact that we were miles away from anything.

I guess that's one reason I love football, for 2 hours three days a week I'm not in the UK anymore. I'm home, bashing someone as hard as I can. Enough about football for now. For the past three nights we've been going up to the Social Centre just to have a drink or two and relax. I've met Kirsten (dating a 1st squad player from the English National Rugby team) Sophie, current attachment unknown, and that's about it. Paul (one of the student wardens) is usually up there doing a crossword or something and we talk about everything. Two nights ago it was politics, boxing and everything in between. I like talking politics and such with the Brits, they're nice, can carry on a rational discussion that isn't filled with party slander, and they understand that a 2 party system stinks.

Don't get the impression that life over here is bad, it's beautiful, but it's not my kind of beauty. It's some place I'm enjoying visiting. But I want to see home, I want my mountains again, the tall limbless pines, kudzu. Maybe my road doesn't lead there just yet though. Maybe it's to Accra, Delhi, Shanghai, or Aubergne. Here's hoping it's a beautiful trip back. Cheers.

-JK

Getting well

Well, four days later, as Decklan put it, I look like death warmed over, but I feel pretty good. My eye also looks sweet, as apparently the sinus pressure forced a blood vessel to burst, woot.

On the bright side I managed to sit through all lectures today without skipping. Mostly boring stuff, Structural Mechanics was all about buckling...and big surprise so was Steel Design. So we spent two hours doing the exact same thing but with different variables, which confused a lot of people. For lunch I sat in the lounge with our resident old timer, he's doing the course part time after working in industry for a while, nice guy.

The past few days have been different. I've made a realization, that to me seems pretty grand, and it was relatively simple, just wait and see instead of rushing ahead to read the end. On the even brighter side, my pants don't fit me anymore. Even cinching up the belt tight just makes it look weird, I think I've dropped about 6 kilo since I've been here, (bout 1 stone), and now that my money is in I can join the gym and start hitting people harder. Woot!

The days are getting colder, the mornings are later, but all the time I'm thinking of home. I was whistling Yankee Doodle today while walking down the street before I realized it. I caught a girl smiling at me when I was talking to Tom and referred to a guy as faster than lightning on a greased plate, so I might have slipped the drawl on to utter a phrase like that, and I'm sure it sounded funny. All the girls here have such elfin features, it's weird, I feel like I should have a bow and latent homosexual feelings to be around chicks like that, but rather I feel more like Gimli, probably cause I'm short, love beer, have a sweet beard, and love smashing things up...dude, Gimli was awesome. Maybe I can have that be the name on my jersey. That would be sweet!

Hmmm...now I feel like going out and knocking heads together...probably not the best idea, I think instead we'll go have a quiet pint and get to bed early. Haha, who am I kidding, we won't have a pint. Pretty soon I'll have to write up a dissertation proposal for the department...I wonder how probable it is that they'll let me do the nanomechanics of carbon nanotube reinforced concrete, perhaps with graphene sheathing for weather protection if we get time....yeah, that'll never happen. Enjoy the rest of your day western world.

-JK

Love

Love is patient but it makes us blind
Love is not saying you are mine
Love is saying if you hold my hand
We'll take on the world, together we'll stand

Happy Endings

The past few days have been relatively quiet. You know, apart from catching a cold and feeling absolutely miserable, still going to training while feeling like that, and putting two veteran linebackers on the ground...(okay, so I got put down several times first).

Right now it's early morning, I'm lying in bed because I don't want to go back to sleep, and I don't actually have to be up for another hour or so. It's odd how sometimes the most eventful weekends are the ones with the fewest stories that arise. On friday we went to the Euro 2012 qualifier (yeah, be jealous) between Wales and Bulgaria (okay, the match was terrible, but I was close enough to have spit on the goalie).

It was a great experience though, granted, I wish I'd been able to get us all tickets up with the Bulgarians, they were in their own secluded corner of the stadium with a police escort, and they looked to be having fun.

On the walk back we had to stop to pick up Debjani, I'm not sure why but something lit a fire in me (unrelated to initial clause other than timing) so I took off. At first I was running to catch up to Sagarika so she wasn't walking by herself along the dark street, but then I couldn't stop. Yard after yard my feet stretched along the pavement under the streetlamps. My lungs burned and my legs ached after training but there was a path before me that was calling me to run.

Over the weekend events transpired that led to a powerful lesson, the tale is not mine to tell, but the moral remains with me. When you are with someone, if you don't know if it's love, try to imagine life without them. If there's a hole there, a lack of breath, and impossibility to wrap your head around (I'm not talking kiddy Twilight BS, I mean literally) then it just might be love. Minor imperfections are not what define us ("oh he only hits me when he drinks" or "She only sleeps around when I work" are not minor imperfections; ditch 'em) What defines us is whether or not we are willing to truly put our own pride aside for another. Man is by nature proud, some pride is good, the pride in a job well done, the pride of convictions; but what truly makes a man is when he is able to willingly cast aside his pride for the sake of someone else, whether that someone else be dear, or merely a friend, or even a stranger.

Not much else has happened lately. Yesterday Dan, and myself and two girls whose names I tragically do not remember had coffee in the cafe before Steel Design. Dan is Kazakh, one of the girls was also, and the other was Nepalese. We represented one of the most interesting groups, we had Hindu, Christian and Muslim all sitting at the same table. Maybe it's a trait of postgraduates, or maybe it's that the people that come all the way to the UK to study are a bit more open than others, but we were able to have an interesting, respectful discussion of each other's cultures based both on religion and also on Nationality. The Kazakh's have one of the most awesome traditions ever, although trying to transfer it to America would be bad. If a guy and a girl are in love, and the girl's parents refuse consent, then all they have to do is conspire together and the guy kidnaps the girl for seven days. After that point the parents must give consent. The thought of someone doing that in the States made me laugh so hard I almost snorted Coke out my nose. Sadly I had to dash the illusion that in America there is an underground dance scene where gangs compete for street supremacy in back alleys during special effects thunderstorms. That's when I realized that as much as Hollywood messes with our perceptions of other countries, it does the same to them about us. Maybe before we ever go to war over cultural differences, all political leaders will be forced to sit together in a bar and drink. Seems to me like that would either clear up the conflict, or they could get in a barfight and kill each other, saving all of us the trouble of dying.

Now I'm off to shower and get to Eng Management...woo...yeah...peace.


-JK

The Drive

So, this post just kind of came about. Not much happened yesterday, calm day, but we went out for pizza at the Uni Kitchen as a group, and that was a lot of fun, I never knew you could order chicken curry pizza, woot!

After that we walked up to the Social Centre to play some pool, but everyone was really tired, so after two games we decided to leave. On the way out the door however I fell into conversation...okay, so I chatted them up, with two girls. Lisa and Mari, both first year Medicine students, both not slags, nor dressed as slags. Probably because Lisa was 25, so she's gotten over the immaturity of the 18 year olds. We talked for a bit, about the ridiculousness of that skirt over there...or the total lack of pants on that girl over there (sidenote, stockings and hotpants are not a valid combination to go clubbing in) then about music. We probably talked about music since the TV's were playing MTV Dance, and it was terrible. She and I share a similar music taste, both love guitar music...and she is totally not over her ex-boyfriend. Sweet girl, but I think she mentioned him 5 times in 1 20 minute chat. Sadly, I was not in a position to probe, or ask if she needed someone to talk to about it. Then last call came, we left, they left, and Patty and I walked back.

Today we had to sit through the most boring management lecture. In case the guy didn't know, the point of an organizational flow chart is to rapidly communicate concepts, without the need to go into great detail for 10 minutes...which is totally what we did.

Later in the day, after buying my rugby boots (16 quid, team colors, flipping sweet), we were all sitting around in the Eng Lounge waiting for Hydro. 'We all' being myself, Tanvir (Bangladesh), Alex (Latvia, even though he said Russia at first, when I found out he was from Latvia I was like, "That's not Russia" and he was shocked an American knew the difference). It was a fun class though, met a new Kazakh girl, new Russian girl, Welsh guys, of course all the Chinese kids still aren't talking to us, but it's okay, we make an entertaining group by ourselves.

After class Carl, Tanvir and I went up to the Union to shoot some pool while I waited for the football team to get there. When we did meet, there weren't enough cars, so we had to ferry people out to Llanrumney, which is like a 20 minute drive one way. Once we all got over there it was a rush to get dressed and kit up. I ran into the RB coach and asked if he wanted me to work with them today. He said definitely, so I got to kit up. After stretching, we worked on blocking and taking handoffs, then the fun part started. We set up a V of cones, with the base towards the running backs. Basically, we ran through the start, then chose a direction. They put a barrier in the middle so we couldn't veer off and switch. Then, at the top of the V stood a linebacker. The goal of the drill was to teach them to tackle us, and teach us to make them regret trying. Allegedly this is one that the LB's love, and the RB's hate. Not sure where that stereotype came from, but we changed it.

Brew went first, he trucked his guy. I was up against a veteran, but I got lower than him so we stood each other up and I still got a yard or two. Second round came, and I did even better. It was a rookie LB, and I got a bit outside of him, knocked him to his back, then went on. Third round I was up against Ollie, Ollie doesn't believe in mercy for rookies. He got a pretty good hit on the side of my helmet which rattled me, so I skipped the fourth round, but everyone was really cool about it. The Running Backs are a really tight group, we're all around the same height, some heavier than others, and we love to run through people.

After that, we did Winners drill. It's where the offense lines up against the defense in a variety of drills, one point is awarded to whichever side wins the drill. First side to 7 wins. Winner gets to cheer on the losing side while they run sprints at the end of practice. First winner drill is one fullback, one halfback, and a D Lineman. It's essentially an Oklahoma. Defense tries to knock down the ball carrier or force him out of the square. Offense tries to score. Charlie's running at halfback behind me, and we power through. By the time we switch to the secondary drills the Offense is up 4-1. The DB's cream the Receivers in a foot race, so we go back to the RB drills with the Defense ahead 6-5. First Brew, then Chris sneak through, so we're up 7-6. If Charlie and I fail we go back to the foot race with the Defense tied, and they'll win that one. Coach says go quietly, so I get a two step start on the D-lineman, and he doesn't stand a chance. Charlie blows by us on the left and the offense lets out a cheer.

After that we did a light drill to learn the holes and play calls before we tried it life with O-line and defense. Then we line up against the big boys. D-line and LB's against O-line and two little running backs. Brew and Chris pound it through for a 6 yard gain, then it's up to me and Charlie again. The O-line has the two linemen, so I end up taking a pounding from a linebacker who snuck around the side. After that Coach Tranter pulls me aside to work on my stance. Next chance I get it's Chris and I teamed up. We go left, I buried my helmet in the chest plate of one lineman, arm around another, and force the whole group forward. Granted, they had lined up the smaller guys on that side, but I still felt beastly.

We had to stand around for a while after practice to catch rides back, but when we got back Sagarika made us Rice with custard, and it was awesome. Then after chatting with everyone for a bit, it was time for a long hot shower and to relax. So here I am, sitting around, my wrist is bruised, my hand is bruised, there's a welt on my left tricep, and every muscle in my body aches, but I am completely happy.

It's been so long since I've had to push myself, so long since i had to keep going through a difficulty to achieve something I want. I don't just want to play this game for the next year, I need to. I need to test myself and see how much I can really do, not just physically, but mentally and spiritually. I need to see that I can get back up after getting knocked around, again and again. It won't always be pleasant, and a lot of mornings I'm going to feel like I've been beaten with a bat, but inside I am on fire and so intensely happy to have pushed through. Don't worry about me. I will get hurt, hopefully not injured, but I will get beaten up, but isn't that what we all need sometimes? We need to be knocked down, we need to feed that fire inside us that pushes us onward and upward, if we let it go too long we may lose it. I'm not saying you should all go play football, I'm just saying remember, when life kicks you, physically or otherwise, get up, and make it regret it. Cheers!

-JK

A farewell to drinking

Whew, wow. Sorry for no update in so long. It's been a crazy rush. So, Freshers Ball, it was terrible...well, sort of. Loads of first years (as expected) and they were up to the usual crap. Some saucy tart threw a chip with mayo on it and hit me in the back of the head...on purpose, got it all over my jacket. I turned around and told her what I thought of her. Then she got like, embarrassed and offended and ran off. I asked someone and no, that isn't a chat-up line over here. I don't know what she expected me to do, but I certainly didn't want to make her acquaintance.

Then I fell in with some lads, apparently I had hung out in their flat last week. They found out I was Murrican and they started asking me how I felt about arabs...I wasn't sure how to respond. Turns out their with the EDL, when the rest of the group came out the fat one said something about 'pakis' so I just looked at him, said they were my friends, and told him he could jog on. I guess I wasn't racist enough for them, sorry chavs.

The night was wearing on, I was exhausted, and frightfully sober. Debjani said she was tired, so I offered to walk her back. That was nice though, she's a nice quiet girl. All the girls were dressed up and looking quite pretty, but Debjani's eyes had that extra sparkle to them. I escorted her to the doorstep, and bid her goodnight. She's a good kid, the kind of girl I would be interested in if I were different, or more sure of where life is leading me, sometimes it's nice though to have a brief taste of normality, even if it's just walking a lovely girl home safely, as a friend.

Monday was pretty uneventful, I slept it, cleaned up, went to the bank (my account opened finally, yaaay!), then down to the loan office to get my monies. Steel and Timber was pretty boring, it was just an intro class, but it looks like it might be fun, the professor said it's all qualitative analysis, very minimal calculations.

After a long walk back we had some beans, then I got dressed up for the social with the Cobras. I was the first one to the union, and i wasn't sure where we were going, so I stood around nervously. Then Brew and Scott showed up, and after Charlie and Matt got there we walked down to Lloyds, since there was a 15 minute wait for a cab, and the walk was 10 minutes.

At Lloyd's we had some beers, apparently over here it's okay for the guys to drink chick beer, but Tyler and I stuck to beer. We all walked down to Tiger Tiger after about an hour and got into our private room. They had free pitchers of vodka-redbull for us, so we all had some. I got into a bit of trouble, since they didn't have beer, and mixed drinks were cheap. They had a double shot of vodka with a half can of monster for only 2 quid, and some of us rookies got a bit carried away. Eventually Danny came over and asked if I needed a cab home, I most certainly did, so he helped me out, hailed a cab and deposited me in it.

Fortunately class today didn't start till 1, and Phil saved me by making some veg curry for lunch and making sure I drank water. My hangover set in around 1:30, right in the middle of advanced structural mechanics. We had that class for 4 hours today, since our concrete professor was sick. It's not actually that bad, most of the stuff I did in Structures 2. Also, since most of the class is Chinese the professor is going slow and explaining everything well.

After class we split up, Omar to get a railcard, Carl to cycle back and eat before training tonight. Me, I just walked back, stopped in to say hi to everyone on floor 1. Then I came up, dropped my bag and hoodie and headed over to the SC for chalkroom. That was pretty basic, just going over basics, most of which I know. Then we went out to the 3G pitch. We were split up after warmups into our groups. I went with the receivers again. We worked on starts and stances. Simon (our receiver coach) told us for each false start we do 5 pressups, which really isn't that bad.

Then we teamed up with the QB's and went over to run routes against the DB's. The QB that we got paired with recognized my voice from class this afternoon, turns out we're both MSc Civils so I'm not the only postgrad on the team. Woo! Sadly I didn't do well to start. I have to work on running through a well led ball. Then I bobbled one that I should have grabbed cleanly. Third time though I started to catch on, hehe, get it? We then went on a 5 completion streak, where 3 of them were me. Slot guy gets a lot of short balls and outs. I had to go up for one that was ahead of me, and Carl hit me while I was in the air. So there's actually 3 of us who are civil postgrads. Anyway, I spun round and landed on my shoulder, but I hung on to the ball.

Then we scrimmaged (just 2 hand touch) so we could get used to lining up and calling plays. I think I'm going to like playing slot, it's fun to run into people. And we get to kit up on Thursday and do it for real.

When I got back Sagarika had saved some Dahl and rice for me, but my stomach is cramping from all the running so I could only eat about half of it, it was really good though. Then I came upstairs, took a nice hot shower, which felt amaaaaazing. Then we hung out in Phil's room for a bit, then watched some Big Bang theory. That brings us to now, I'm laying down, resting and trying not to think of how much my legs ache. Now it's time for sleep though, big day tomorrow...not really, but hopefully I get money so I can get boots for Thursday. Happy Wednesday all you people round the world. Cheers.


-JK

Feasts and Football

Whew, what a hectic 24 hours.

Well, yesterday I was a complete bum, didn't go out for jack, except to buy more booze. We cooked yesterday, and it was the most multinational meal I've ever had. Since a lot of people were coming we all made something. I made Beans and Rice, but had to use English sausage, then Xiao made fish with peppers and onions to go on it as well, while Sagarika made fried cauliflower in a chili sauce. Everyone got a big bowl of beans and rice, then topped it all off with everything else. It was ledge.

Post that we stepped out for a final night busting 1st year chops before our classes start. Everyone's feeling pretty out of it from the week and a half of partying. Most people go into bed, but a few of us stay out to finish our bottles. It doesn't end up being a bad night, John comes over and has a cigarette with us. We have discovered a new chat up line that has amazing success. Simply ask the girls if they want to come over and meet an American. Most of them squeal and ask me where I'm from while babbling the bits and pieces they've heard. Most of it is pretty funny, although one snotty wench got mad at me for not thinking of Vale Colorado off the top of my head instead of Aspen. I politely informed her that it was farther from my house to Vale than it was from here to anywhere else on this island. She got snippy, said she'd been to GA too and that she knew Atlanta. I congratulated her for knowing the capital city, then asked if London was around here somewhere. She didn't like the sarcasm, so she left in a huff. She came back later, turns out she'd actually been trying to tell me her name, Vale, in a cool way. I accepted her apology and we had a nice chat. Shortly after she left we all went in and called it a night.

This morning we woke up early and went to church. Sagarika tagged along to see the place, we had a nice breakfast, although my stomach is too uneasy to do anything more than drink tea. Mass was nice, they used Schubert's Mass in G for the Kyrie and Agnus. The choir there is quite good.

When we left it was bloody cold, and windy, so we walked up to the cafe and took a break, stopped in for some more tea. Nice folks that run it, wouldn't mind having a Sunday tradition there.

We walked Anita and Suja back to their flat, then the three of us made the long journey back to Taly South.

Once we got back I had to hurry and change for Rookie Day today. I walked over to the Social Centre, and felt a bit out of place. That went away pretty soon as we all grabbed kit and headed down to the fields. To get there you just go down the Taff to the south and cross the sketchy footbridge. Once we're there and everyone is ready we play some ultimate football as a warmup and greeting thing. It's basically Ultimate frisbee...but, you know...with a football. I pushed pretty hard, making some catches and knockaways I shouldn't have.

Once everyone else gets there it's getting sunny, and after a warmup jog and stretch we break down into groups. My group goes to the first station, lineman work. I'm paired off with Aledd, a local welsh guy. We both have fun, take it a bit farther than the other guys with the shoving, but we're in kit, pads and helmet, so it's all fun.

After around 10 minutes of lineman drills we go to the running back station, which consists of a lot of running, not much else. After that we went to DB's, practiced backpedaling, watching the quarterback, and picks. Then comes receiver training. The receiver coach asked if we had any quarterbacks, I raised my hand, cause I can throw better than most of the guys here, but he pushes me back and told me, "No, you're too good for that." So we run some routes, make some catches, I even had a tipup catch. Next is linebackers, kind of lame, then rest station, where they get our contact info and ask where we want to go for the competitive section. I told the coach I wasn't really sure, I just liked running into people. When everyone else is in, the receiver coach came over and told me I was coming back to work with them, then going over to the RB coach to do fullback work. The RB coach agreed that I needed to play fullback too, but they weren't doing any drills for that today, so I just went with the receivers. We did just some basic routes first, I dropped one but caught the next two. Then we swap with the other group of WR and get to face off against the defensive backs. Very first play I run a slant across the field, and the kid from North Carolina feeds me a nice one, a bit high and behind, so I have to jump and turn, which leads my side open to Aledd, who I'm faced off against again. He hits me in the ribs as I get the ball, after a bit of a fall the ground catches me and I come up with the ball. I get a cheer from all the sidelines, the coach reminds Aledd that he can't hit me till I get the ball, but it's all good fun.

The rest of the day passes without incident, but Brew told us that there's a social tomorrow at Tiger Tiger with all the cheerleaders, so that should be fun. I gotta run though for now, we're all getting ready for the Freshers Ball, despite being completely exhausted. Oh well, I can sleep in tomorrow before Steel&Timber.

Cheers,
-JK

Kebabs and Fisticuffs

Well, yesterday was interesting. I left for my welcome session and to go to the bank. When I was a quarter mile from my house it started to rain. Since it has done that every day for about 10 minutes I figured I'd walk on through it. So, whistling Dixie and other assorted tunes I strode off to the bank. When I got there I met up with Ali. We stood in the queue for about thirty minutes, not that it was a bad experience, Rebecca, or Becky, stood behind us, and some Med student whose name I didn't catch and we chatted about various things.

One of the things I love about that bank, is they have all their posters in two versions, one in English, one in Welsh. That's not the funny part. The funny part is that it's the same picture of the same girl on both posters, but on the one in Welsh there is a noticeable effect put on the picture to make her hair redder and skin as well. Either that or for the English one they blonded her up.

Since I was talking it wasn't hard to spot me for what I was, and Becky asked what part of the states I was from, since she lived for a few years in Texas. Eventually we reached the teller, and surprise surprise, my account still isn't open. Not exactly sure what's going on, but that means I have to start being stingy.

So Ali and I walk back up to the Union to go to the Societies fair. Less because we're interested, more because we both have things to do in the afternoon down that way and neither wants to walk back to Taly. After the societies fair we grab lunch, 45p for a pack of crisps and eat them while watching the rain, hoping it will slow down soon. It doesn't, so I bite the bullet and start the long walk down to the Queens buildings. I get to the street door, but it's locked, so I have to go all the way round to the Parade entrance (another 1/4 mile in the rain). By the time I get in I'm soaked to the bone, and they have the building chilled.

Professor Rees tells us in no uncertain terms that we should really avoid screwing up, we have one shot, that's it. So with the proper fear put in us, I'm ready to spend all my free time between classes in the library studying, which was probably the point.

Afterwards, Omar and I discussed what we want to do for our dissertations, since we have to write up a proposal with the professor in the next few weeks if we want it to be on the list of options. We walked into City Centre after that, but neither of us had the money for anything so we walked back.

It's amazing how much better dry clothes can make you fell when you're completely soaked. Sagarika and I had to go to the Tesco's to get food for beans and rice today. I'm going to attempt Cajun cooking in a foreign country, this might be an epic failure.

When we got back she had forgotten her key, so we went over to the social centre to meet up with Phil and Patty, then AJ came too, so we shot pool, played ping pong for a bit. I'm getting better at pool, I can now make the ball do what I want about 1/3 times.

Last night there was a postgrad pub crawl, we should have known what it would be like, given that it's postgrads, but we gave it a shot. 13 of us walked down to the Union. On the way there we crossed the street, but the guy behind us fell down and almost got hit by a car. When Patty and I stepped out to help him he swore at us and took a swing. He was terribly drunk, so the swing just made him fall down. Since we couldn't get close enough to help him Abhirup and I stopped traffic until he could wander off the street on his own. Once he reached the sidewalk he started abusing us and trying to fight...given that he picked Patty as a first opponent I don't think he was quite bright, since Patty is the biggest guy in our group.

We pushed on past him, towards the Union. When we got there we went upstairs. All the tables were taken, all the groups were closed, some of them had a token foreigner, but most of them were pure British. So we set up in a corner at the last table and had some drinks. We all had a good laugh just talking, but we weren't sure how the crawl was going to turn out. When the girl running it told the fourth group to follow the guy in the Ochre shirt we all laughed, and Patty shouted out, "Primary Colors, love!" One cheeky wench at the next table made a face and said she hoped they didn't have to walk with us. Sadly, they nursed their drinks, and we were late getting in, so we were supposed to leave together. We all got up and went out for a smoke while those damn brits wrinkled their noses at us, we asked for a copy of the map so we could get a feel for where we were going, even though we were supposed to follow 'Edward'.

I ducked back in to memorize the map, since it was the last one and we had to give it to Edward. The girl running it came over and asked if we would wait to leave for the other group. I told her that they didn't want to walk with us, we'd heard them say so. Naturally she was all "Oh they wouldn't say that, noooo..." I looked her dead in the eyes and told her I'd bet her a pound that they had, and we didn't want to walk with people like that...although I might have called them something else.

We ended up leaving together anyway, but at the next pub we stood outside, then slipped off once everyone had grabbed a quick drink. One useful engineering skill, map memorization, we made it to the Vulcan without any mishaps. Once there some of us were standing outside, when we saw a place for Kebabs across the street. So we ran over there to get some late night food. Ali had found 10 quid in the street, so it was essentially a free meal. While we were standing there though a bunch of guys came to the door, one of them was recording while another stepped up and said he had a message for the manager. He was drunk, arrogant, and there was just the girl behind the counter. The message came from the Pensomething Boys, so I grabbed him by the arm and suggested he leave. He told me no, so I turned him round, and said to get out. Maybe it was that he was drunk, maybe it was that I still had my hand on his collar and was obviously sober and ready to break his head, but he made a good choice. Called me a nasty name, then said he was leaving of his own volition. I told him it was a good plan, and that he had a set amount of time to leave. They left...quite quickly. Stupid 16 year olds.

In other news the Kebab was one of the best things I've ever eaten. I guess the whole incident rattled me and pissed me off simultaneously. I was scared that there were more of them outside than I thought and I'd end up getting whupped, but I've grown sick and tired of these snotty kids abusing foreigners. (I saw a girl take a picture through one of our house windows the other night, then run away bragging she had a photo of the 'dirty chinese'. I don't recall ever before telling a girl she was a bitch to her face, but boy was that fun to see her expression. None of the guys in her group stood forth to defend her, but had plenty of things to say about me.) I still wish those chavs had wished to go further into the matter, but it's probably good they didn't. I hope they enjoy that video in days to come.

The whole incident left me with a bad taste in my mouth, and somewhat angry. You know you have good friends though when they can all tell, and are all worried about you. Well, one person in our group didn't notice, but my opinion of them isn't nearly as high as that of my friends.

The rest of the night was uneventful, just a long walk home. With every day that goes by I realize how much this house means to me. Any other house and I'd have quit already, but we're pretty much family here in 24. I'm a man with brothers and sisters, but no countrymen, which bothered me at first, but I realize now, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm not white, I'm a pigmentally challenged Indian.

What the Camera Saw

It's one of those mornings, the grey English mornings. The skies are so low you can almost see them brush the elms on the other side of the river. The trail along the bank is strewn with violets, clinging to the last frail remnants of summer. My eyes are old, and the scene before me blurs. I see the bridge, before the graffiti came, when the stones were bright. I see the form of a man standing on the bridge, shoulders sagged as though the entire weight of the world had been taken from his shoulders, not a relief, but rather a crushing refusal of worth. Away from him walked a woman, young, but whose straight back conveyed a sense of resolve, resolve not to turn, not to weaken, not to listen to the cries of her heart.

A mist forms in my eyes, whether from the skies, or my soul I cannot tell. Through the film I see a single red rose floating downstream from the bridge, its stem broken in half as though it had been thrown. Without thought a name is whispered by the wind, Emily. The name stirs something inside of me, but I cannot remember the name of this feeling.

Whenever the mornings are like this I come down to the riverside to see the bridge. Sometimes they are there, sometimes they are not. I can no longer recall where I have seen the picture, nor if I was the one who took it, or the one in it. That was all too long ago, before life happened to me, before my bones became chilled, and yet every morning like this I come down, hoping to see them, hoping to see her turn around, she never does. I sit down beside a great old elm, it was great when I was a child, it was great when my father was born, but I am the last of the line that will repose here. The wind is still whispering, but now it is my name, even that name sounds strange to me, it is the name of a man who believed she would turn around.

She never did.


-JK

Football, Cider and First aid

Yes, it really was that eventful a day yesterday that I need to discuss three topics.

So yesterday I was lazying about, when a girl from the union came to the door to tell us that there was some pickup 5-a-side going on over on the Taly pitches. I figured now would be as good a time as any to prove to the Brits just how terrible we are at football (as opposed to hand egg). Omar consented to come with me, mostly as moral support. We didn't realize how serious pickup games are, since most of the teams were guys that all lived together, we ended up getting thrown onto a hodgepodge team. Since I have no delusions of grandeur as a goalie I opted for defense. After getting beaten easily about three times, then missing a clearance I started to pick up the rhythm of the game. All the practice this summer paid off too, one of the few times I worked on advancing the ball I feinted right and chipped it left past his leg and cut around him. His simple, "Whoah, nice!" was the best compliment I've received over here, made my day. The rest of the four matches were a rush, not much stands out. I did manage to stumble into a shot block, two actually, and given that we held two matches scoreless, without a shot being fired even, I guess I did okay. In my enthusiasm though I pulled off what I'm told (by Omar and one of the other guys) was a great slide tackle, which was exciting, except for the aftermath to my left leg and arm. The rubber crumb doesn't cut quite like gravel, but it still drew blood, yaaaaaay! that means you're doing it right...right?

Fortunately they waited until after it was over to let us know that the Uni Football Coaches had been watching and taking notes during our matches, otherwise I wouldn't have gone out.

So, over here, they can sell liquor by the 2 liter bottle. So for 2 quid I picked up some Strongbow, when we got back however I ran into a situation, Sagarika (from downstairs) had sprained her ankle, so we deposited her in a chair in the kitchen while Philip and I cut up the chicken for dinner. Sadly, the knife was dull, so several times it slipped awkwardly, so we bandaged Phil's finger, mine wasn't that bad the first time. The second time I poked the point into my finger, but it didn't even draw blood, just hurt a bit. Then, because I had a powerful thirst I went outside and cracked open the cider. It goes down pretty easily, better from a bottle instead of a glass. Other Phillip (from Bulgaria) came by with Stephie (also from Bulgaria) and we had a grand old time. Since most of us had induction today we decided to go to bed early. So around 2 we polished off the cider and went inside.

I probably made an ass of myself and talked way too much last night, but I was a bit homesick, and nobody said anything.

This morning Omar and I went down to induction, so now I have my timetables and I registered for my optional modules in the spring. Wooooo nanomechanics! Fortunately my first class on Mondays is at 2, so I can go to the social after practice on Sunday. Now though it's almost noon, which means it's time for all of you to wake up, and time for me to go back to sleep for my afternoon nap. Here's wishing you a beautiful day and a quick plane ride over to see me and all the 'cheeky' steel smelting runoffs here in the UK. Cheers.

-JK

Rachel and John

Sitting here, windows open, listening to the intermittent rain and Chesterfield King, eating Tajiki soup. Just came back from the Sports Fayre, definitely wasn't interested in Rugby...I like my teeth too much. But the A. Football team said they were looking for a new fullback, then they heard my accent, realized where I was from, and got properly excited. They said it's all a good laugh, not too serious, so I figure come Sunday I'll try my hand at running people over, then kickboxing starts up next week.

Last night was good, we just went up to the SC and shot a bit of pool, it was tough, the table and balls over here are smaller, makes it hard to properly mark it. Then we came back, the 1 floor crew were cleaning up from dinner and someone had brought a guitar, so I was recruited to play for them. Nupur was sitting to my left, and seemed pretty interested ;) sadly I didn't know any Hindi songs or much pop. After that we went out on the smoking deck, listened to music on Nupur's phone and hung out. By about 11 most of the MBA kids went in to bed since they had induction today. Agni, Patty and I stayed out, but moved over under the awning since it was raining. Patty went to get his bottle of vodka and we made a proper night of it, chatting up the passing people, although the rain put a damper on it.

Even better than razzing the rah-rahs, we discovered that sometimes people just need someone to talk to. John was passing by without a shirt, we remarked on his lost article of clothing and he told us he'd had the worst day of his life. Not being people to withhold comfort from someone needing it we invited him under the awning for a shot. He told us his story, had a drink and we listened, remarking that he didn't need to worry about getting turned down by a girl, there were plenty more girls in Cardiff. Pretty soon his mates came along and he left, but he seemed happier.

Rachel was a similar story, as she passed we saw her wipe away a tear, so we asked if she was okay. She declined a drink, but deigned to stop in and chat with us. Some fellow had spoken ill of and to her, effectively ruining her night. It didn't help that she was homesick. I assured her that if the situation ever arose again and we were around, we had no problem going further into the issue with the cad.

So that was it really, nothing adventurous or new, just a night with friends, and we got to help two people have a better night.

Induction is tomorrow, I'll check with the bank and see if they have my account finally.

That's about it, no really extravagant shenanigans...although over here you really have to go over the top to be extravagant. Will write more later this week, perhaps a new story will arise from all of this. Cheers.

-JK

So today was our first day of real rest, we slept in...after staying up till 3 again. Without anything scheduled to do we were going out of our heads with boredom, so Agni, Phillip and I decided it was time to get out and go on a little photo tour. We walked up the Taff trail around 2 miles then back down the other side, stopping in at the Llandaff Cathedral.

In other news we've found a new hobby, standing outside while the 1st years walk back after a night of partying, exchange comments and greetings, make new friends, watch the rah-rahs (as Patty calls them) cross the street to walk past us, then let them know what we think of them. Had a grand conversation with a Lemming Welsh girl. Life here is interesting. It may get more interesting before the week is over, that's all on that subject.

Tomorrow i have to go in and enrol for the Engineering School. yay for waking up at 8 for a 1 hour walk, oh well, I'll finally get my timetables and hopefully be able to figure out what books I need. For now I have to go and get a nap before tonight, we're going to a Postgrad welcome and meet&greet. Will write more later, hopefully less cryptic. Cheers.


-JK

The Bowlers of Pakistan and the Batsmen of India

Wow, what a great night. It's around 3 here, so I realize it's already dark at home, but whatever. Tonight we discovered that there are more people who enjoy going out in our building, we also discovered that I am the token white kid. So we went out to the Social Centre (we being House 24 3-1 and 1-1) Two shots of tequila and a pint later we're sitting in a corner booth, laughing and joking. We talk about girls, the night ahead, silly things Americans do. Then we pick up and start the trek down to the Union. The entire way is one long chat and running joke. At the union we queue up for the international party, head downstairs and through the doors.

No one is on the dance floor yet, just sitting around the edge drinking their first drinks. So we go to the bar and get a round of whatever is cheap. Once we each have our diod we take a turn through the room to see if there are any girls who want to dance. Everyone is just settling in and nobody wants to be the first on the floor, then we run into Bhavana (who I met earlier) she's prettier tonight. We chat for a bit, then she goes with her friends. We are near the door, so when a group of Spanish girls come in they run into us, we chat, decide to go to the bar and get a drink. Once the girls have picked out their drinks we head out on the dance floor. Dancing in a disco is entirely different here, it's not a one on one thing where you get as close as possible and grind, it's a social thing, you stand in a circle and talk while you take turns acting like an idiot.

Sufifia and her friends are waiting for someone, so when she gets a text they have to go find someone and they'll be back, so I go find the rest of the guys I came with. There's a circle of them standing around. After the usual apologies for my lack of dancing ability AJ gets me into an Indian dance which leads to a good laugh. Since it's all in good fun I do my best imitation of a country jig, which isn't easy to disco music. This is another grand joke.

Soon enough the Spanish girls came back, and after a bit we end up sitting down talking for about an hour. Most of them are here studying English Philology. They've only arrived yesterday, and somehow Phillip, AJ and I have already acquired the roles of knowledgeable veterans, so I give them directions to different facilities.

Eventually the party winds down, the dance floor is empty again, so I walk the Spanish girls out, then, since they are in a group and the street is well lighted we say goodnight, with the obligatory kiss on the cheek, Sufifia because she and i had talked most of the evening, and her shy friend who seemed most intent upon saying goodbye. Back in the party I find the crew assembled and waiting for me so we can all walk home together. We had an agreement that we don't leave anyone stranded, no matter how safe the streets may be, and so begins the long walk home.

The walks are less long though when you have friends around you, it's really just like the party is moving with you. We stopped at a van that was selling food right outside the bar and get hot-dogs. Naturally it's a British hot-dog, so it's really a sausage, burnt to a crisp, on a hoagie roll with ketchup and onions, but it's hot.

Once we return to our house we have a clearly formed notion of how we want to put our house on the map. For three days now there has been segregation between the British houses and the International ones. So we have decided to throw a house party and try to bring them all together for the one thing we all enjoy.

Since nobody is quite ready for bed we find a deck of cards and a few beers and assemble in a kitchen downstairs. The cards are quickly abandoned however, and the beers remain untouched. The talk turns from one subject to another, first jokes and culture, then politics. After so much time spent with just engineers, it was interesting how adamant some people were. We had two MBA's, one Dentistry, 3 Jounalisms and me. Abhirup sits there and looks sleepy while Sagarika argues with Phillip about the problems with the Commonwealth games and the media attention, then about how the media is itself a problem. Discussing the conflict leads to what would be expected, a discussion of the groups themselves. Since there is a Pakistani sitting with us someone wonders what ever caused all the problems. No one from this generation can remember of course, so a suggestion is made for a new peace policy. The two countries should be united, if only so that they can have one unified cricket team. Everyone knows that this wouldn't work, and that they are the minority of thought back home, but it's a nice sentiment, and leads to a laugh.

Soon enough everyone is tired, so we adjourn for the evening with promises to do it again soon, although maybe with less tequila next time.


Now it's morning, we've all awoken, probably due to our fire alarm going off, this morning makes it a hat trick. All of the detectors are immediately outside the bathroom, so if you take a hot shower without the window open, and with the door open, alarms ensue. Perhaps we've already put our house on the map as the place with the stupid foreigners, but as someone noted this morning, it's just our way of getting back at them, "The colonies are here, and they're pissed." From the brighter side of the world, cheers.


-JK

Smoking, Silent Discos and Strolling

whew, sorry for not posting anything about travel day, but really, you probably know how that went, plane, airport, bus, airport, plane, airport, bus. Somehow with all those vehicles I still managed to walk around 4 miles yesterday...1 of which was walked while lugging around 60 kilos of luggage.

So, now I'm in Cardiff, safe and sound, the weather is gorgeous, although the spontaneous rain does still crop up occasionally.

So, last night, one of my flatmates and I went to our local pub (The Social Centre for future reference) There, we discovered that in these hallowed halls of the UK, the beer of choice for most discerning (read: 'broke') college students is Fosters. That's right lads and ladies, the word 'Fosters', Australian for: we-can't-believe-you-really-drink-this-kangaroo-sweat-in-a-can-but-we-love-your-money-anyway. Disregarding my tastebuds, because cool and frosty is cool and frosty, I set to. We promptly met Alex, poor bloke from Singapore who had no one to drink with, so we turned the duet to a trio and made quite the set, observing my new favorite British Fashion trend, the mini-dress with leggings. Soon we observed the statistical supportability of a conclusion that most of these minidresses were swaying off in one general direction. Happening upon a hypothesis that mayhaps there was an even occurring of momentous circumstance, we left the local pub (yes, our housing complex has its own) and set off down the lane.

We arrived at Solus, paid cover, and went inside. Another Fosters and a shot of off-brand vodka later we reached the conclusion that Solus was indeed quite lame, being as we didn't know anyone. Deciding to duck out onto the balcony as Alex wanted a smoke break and didn't want to go alone, we discovered the rest of the Internationals. There was Christina from Latvia, Brigette from France, Becky from Sheffield...okay, not technically international, but who cares. The moral of the story is, suddenly Solus was not lame, in point of fact it was quite excellent. So we chatted, they left, I met a gorgeous bird who's studying Computer Science...fairly sure it wasn't a hallucination, and we chatted regarding favorite coding languages while other people looked at us in disgust. It was a grand time.

It also helped me to realize something. Over here, it's not what color you are, it's where you're from. For example, Christina was great, so were some of the British girls out there with us, but by and large we get ignored by 90% of the English. The Welsh don't mind us, had a great laugh with a few that I couldn't understand, but the others don't care for us apparently, regardless of my allegedly sexy accent. Still, I'd rather go to the pubs with the internationals, we have more fun, more backgrounds, and realize there's more to life than drinking and dancing. There's also smoking and chatting on balconies, even if you never see each other again, it makes for a pleasant evening. From the dark side of the world, cheers.

-JK

Alleyways and Storytime

This blog is guaranteed 100% less angsty than past ventures of mine, however, I cannot resist a story. Recently my family and I were on a weeklong camping trip over on the Carolina coast as a last family event before i fly off into the rising sun, and it was awesome. We went to the small town of Beaufort, there were some beautiful views, and yet, something heavy there. Part of this made me particularly wistful as I passed by the alleyways. Something about the narrow passages, leading to courtyards shielded from inquiring eyes, a paradise tucked away among the bustle of main street, struck a chord with me. So now I present you with a story, a rather poor one. I laid awake late trying to discover the ending, but I could not see it, therefore, I must write it, and find out when I reach it.




Sarah Foster was in love with a soldier. Not that this was a particularly unusual case for a girl from Beaufort. Many of the fairer denizens of this small town had pledged their undying devotion to local boys, who, seeking a life of adventure away from their fathers' shrimp boats ran off to join the military. No, what set young Miss Foster apart from her fellow betrothed maidens was that her man was coming home. Yes, even as her friends bid farewell to their knights in khaki, she had received the letter informing her that Douglas was coming home, home to stay.

She paced up and down her room, pausing each time to look out through the lace curtains that shielded her windows from the prying eyes in the Plum Cafe below. Rare were the occasions she glanced down from this vantage, for most of her time was spent in the cafe, where she worked as a waitress. So much time was spent there in fact that she frequently kept the curtains drawn, hoping to forget that her prison of responsibility lay so close at hand.

A breeze coming off of the harbor stirred her wispy protectors of imagination. The autumn sunlight reflecting off of the shining water struck a small bauble upon her left hand and sent dazzling beams of colored light spinning through the room. She gazed listlessly upon the sullen golden band that housed the beautiful gem. Douglas would have known she didn't like gold, but unfortunately, the ring was not his. It had been given to her by a rather wealthy young fellow who frequented the Plum Cafe.

After Douglas had gone away, she had spent many long hours staring out over the harbor, trying to find an answer to the questions in her heart, but it was in vain that she asked the seagulls and sweetgrass whether or not Douglas loved her. If they knew, they had been sworn to secrecy, along with the bobbing pines across the bay.

As the weeks went by she grew convinced that her love was unrequited, and that it was hopeless to wait. Then had come the young Mr. Gregory. Mr. William Gregory, grandson of the Gregory's that lived in the great brick mansion over on Pinckney street in the upper end of the Victorian District. Mr. Gregory had cast his eye upon young Miss Foster and been instantly convinced that she was the most lovely girl in town. With his sails set and his eye upon the great heart that had so often eluded the local hounds. And so he courted her, day after day, gradually wearing down those stalwart defenses, until she accepted from him, early in the summer, a small token of his affection. He had insisted that she merely try it out to see how it felt. When his parents came down to visit him he had discovered that the stone was loose, and took it back to the jewelers for repair. Thankfully the jeweler was able to repair it, but not until after Mr. and Mrs. Gregory had gone away again.

Sarah had noticed then, for all people assumed she hadn't. She was a sharp girl, not one given to silly notions and the building of fantasy kingdoms. Yet she kept the ring on, hoping that perhaps it was a passing phase, that perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Gregory merely had to be eased into the idea of a waitress in the family. This one circular castle she allowed herself, believing that unless she hoped for something she must surely die.

Then had come the day of the letter. It had been a plain one, not full of flowery words as Mr. Gregory's were. It was written in a strong hand, one which appeared unfamiliar with the attention it was giving to detail. The meticulously formed letters seemed to cry with pain at the ages it had taken to write them, and if she had cared to inquire as to the page's family, she would have heard a long tale of many brothers and sisters left lying crumpled in a wire basket across the sea. The letter contained no declaration of love, but what lay between the carefully sculpted lines spoke louder than any sonnet. After finishing with the pleasantries and news of his own return he had simply asked if she still had the painting of the seagull over the harbor.

Her mind had fluttered back to that night while her body performed the same action across the room to her nightstand, where the small painting, lovingly framed and matted, rested upright against her mirror. The night he had given it to her, the night he had almost said something, but had held back, choosing instead to tell her of his imminent departure. All of her dreams came flooding back with the memory of those unspoken thoughts. The circular bastion of Mr. William Gregory grew inconsequential in her mind.

It was a quarter past noon when Mr. William Gregory strode into the Plum Cafe. He winked at the hostess, then wound his way to his usual seat. As Miss Foster took his order he tried in vain to catch her eye. As the clock down the street struck 12:30, Mr. Gregory's food began wending its way towards his table. The faint growl of a diesel engine announced the arrival of the bus from Charlestown. With a clatter the dishes were deposited on the table. Mr. Gregory shouted a protest but his words struck only air. A glance down at his sandwich revealed a small golden hoop with a shiny protrusion resting upon the bread. As realization dawned upon him, the jingle of the cafe door opening danced its way into his ear. Too late he had shouted, and too late he had decided to be true, for the hand that had so recently been burdened by that circlet of settlement was flailing for balance and Sarah raced down the sidewalk towards the bus station.

A screeching seagull gazed down upon them as he swooped over head. The fair one, trembling with joy, leapt into the arms of that khaki clad son of Beaufort. The cries of the gull united with the whisper of the sweetgrass, both proclaiming that well had they kept their secret, and now, relieved of his vow, the gull climbed into the heavens to announce that the artist had returned to his muse.

In the Beginning

It all started with a kid. What a terrible intro, things usually start somewhere, and since children are the beginning of adults it only makes sense that most stories, whether of adult or child, begin with a kid. Shall we try again?

It ended with a man...well, you see this isn't much better, true, it has ruled out approximately 50% of the population, but that's no great feat. Saying that it included a lobster at some point would be as positive an indicator to the point of the story, for that is what this is, a story. It is not a short one, nor will this meager domicile contain the entirety of it, instead this is but a chapter, a paragraph even in the story of my life, but what it is, for what it's worth, just might be worth the read. So, shall we?

Here is the place where I should make some short introduction of myself. I am the alleged protagonist of this tale, as well as the narrator and observer, but let us skip the pleasantries. I am me, you are you, and the fact that you are seeing this is entirely your own fault.

Life began for me...blah blah blah, I was young, I was foolish, I learned things, I saw things, I had fun, I lost something, I found something, I lost that too, and now here we are. 22 years in one sentence, sure puts life in perspective doesn't it? I am still young, still foolish, still learning, and about to embark upon (possibly) the greatest adventure of my life to date. If you are reading this, you probably know me, and you probably know that I'm leaving quite soon to study in Wales for a year.

This blog will attempt in some small way to convey the changes in my life as they happen, share the joys and sorrows of growing and finding who I am meant to be.

So tie your boots up tight, helmets are there on the rack to your left, this should be fun.