It's finally the weekend!

My, it has been awhile since I've written here. This week has truly flown by, mostly because it was incredibly busy in terms of school. Meanwhile, I have also been sick still and am calling the doctor tomorrow to make sure there is absolutely nothing she can do, in an effort to avoid paying her 60 more pounds to tell me to rest and drink tea.

Monday I woke up bright and early and dragged John with me to the doctor (he was actually quite willing and it made me feel much better navigating the British health system with him there). They initially told me I wasn't covered, which I thought meant that I couldn't go there at all, but they apparently just meant that I had to pay in full and then get reimbursed by my insurance company later. Not nearly as bad. She told me I had a viral infection and that it should get better soon. I went away somewhat relieved that it wasn't bronchitis but with part of me thinking that if it had been, antibiotics would have cleared it up quite quickly. It just sounds stupid to be so sick with a cold.

After some breakfast with John we parted ways and I went to class while he went to explore the museums and sketch the sculptures, which is basically what he has been doing while I've been in class all week. He loves it, because he says it's like sitting in a model drawing class that is completely free, and in which the models never move. Perfect for him. On the other hand, class was quite uneventful although I really enjoyed drama again, because we have quite good discussions on the plays.

Monday evening we went to see "The Last Confession" for drama, and John stayed in my room to use my computer. The play was quite good, about conspiracies surrounding the sudden death of Pope John Paul I after a short 31 days of reigning. While our professor compared it to a Dan Brown novel, there was far less action and far more intelligence and actual possibility in it than that. In a good way, really, because it seemed quite probable that something like that might have happened. God save the Catholic church if its cardinals are truly so conniving. Still, it was almost worth the incredibly expensive ticket it took to see the play at the fancy (and unsubsidized) Haymarket Theatre Royal.

Tuesday was much the same as Monday, minus the doctor's appointment. We saw George Bernard Shaw's "Saint Joan" about the life of Saint Joan of Arc in the evening, and John wandered around the city at night to see some of the landmarks at night. Saint Joan was fabulous, by far the best play we have seen so far, complete with a live orchestra and singers and a Stomp-like show with chairs and drumsticks and metal sheets to represent the battles against the English in the middle. I was truly enthralled through most of it and came out of the theatre thinking "this is really what it should be like." It helped that we had quite good seats, which is unusual because of our budget, partly due to the fact that the seats wrap around almost 180 degrees of the stage.

Regretfully, it was also at this wonderful performance that I discovered that not all Londoners, or at least all British, have incredibly immaculate manners. I still had quite a bad cough on Tuesday, the kind that is for a reason and not just because you have a tickle in your throat, so it is nearly impossible to calm down with lozenges or water. In fact, sometimes they just irritate it further. This is quite unfortunate during a play where the majority of the really important scenes are very quiet, but I had to be at the play for my class, since I have to write a review, so there was not very much I could do to avoid being slightly annoying with my cough other than muffle it as best I could with a scarf and try to breathe very slowly. Usually we are surrounded by people from our class anyway, half of which is sick. However, I had the bad luck to be behind one woman, presumably British (an American that rude would have at least said something), who was very upset with me for being so rude as to cough during the show. During the first act she glanced back a couple of times, turning her head halfway around. At first I thought maybe she was just looking to see if I was, in fact, not dying or choking, but it became clear after a few times that this was not her intention. I got some water during the intermission and tried my best during the second act not to annoy her too much but alas, my cough sometimes just would not be tamed, and at one point she actually turned all the way around to look at me angrily, while I tried mouthing to her "I'm really, really sorry but I'm very sick!" Shaking her head in annoyance, she answered without speaking that this was clearly not a good enough reason. Did she want me to leave, and cause more disruption for other people? I felt a little bit better when a nicer lady next to me smiled at me with a gesture telling me not to worry, and half the class noticed that she was being rude and mentioned it to me afterward. Still, how awkward.

Wednesday was our trip to Brighton, a beach town on the south coast of England, notable to me primarily for being where the officers are quartered for the summer in Pride and Prejudice. It is a lovely town, although almost more like a city, since it is quite large. It is built on a hill, with the train station at the very top and the Chanel at the bottom. The beach consists of very large, brownish pebbles and the water is, of course, freezing, but so is everything in England this summer (I have to say that recently it has been at least a bit warmer). We left on the 9:40 Thameslink (a light, commuter rail service) from Kings' Cross, and arrived around 11am, making it a very short train ride. After going down to the water, we went back up into the town to the Royal Pavillion, a party palace built by King George IV in the "Asian" style. Because at the time, in the early 1800s, they really didn't know very much about Asia at all, the palace looks vaguely like the Taj Mahal, with beautiful gardens all around, but the inside is a strange mix of European, "Chinese," and "Japanese" decor. For instance, the blue bamboo painted on the pink walls of the entry hall doesn't really look that much like bamboo, and the dragons that make up one of the main themes have wings and are Welsh dragons, since they didn't know what Chinese dragons looked like. Although Queen Victoria stripped the place of all furnishings and paintings when she sold it to the town of Brighton, some of it has been returned, including the largest crystal chandeliers I have ever seen. It is truly a bizarre palace.

After the tour I split off with a couple of girls to grab lunch (food from home plus I split an order of chips, or fries, with another girl). Then we walked down to the remaining one of the two piers built in Victorian times for amusement. It looks basically like a pier at the Jersey Shore, complete with cheesy rides, fried food stands, an arcade, and little shops. The most interesting of the shops advertised for an "Orgasmatron," so naturally I had to inquire as to what that was...apparently a special head massage. Then we wandered down along a path on the beach that has little shops and restaurants, and lamented the fact that our program director required us to take the 4:14 train back to London, despite the fact that our tickets were valid for much later trains. It was lovely day. John and I went out for Indian food in the famous Brick Lane area (famous for all of its Indian restaurants) that night, which was very good, and then I stayed up late working on my British Culture presentation that I gave today.

It's late and I have some work to finish up so I'll have to do today tomorrow, again...I'll try to be better at updating. Then they won't take so long.