Post of procrastination!

These are becoming tellingly common. Anyway. Random things have happened this past week and a half! Let me round them up.

First, I have to share a weird thing: so given that I was ill for most of the choir tour, I had an oddly limited range that was mostly ridiculously low or high and breathy--no normal, middle range at all. Well, now I'm feeling better, and miraculously I seem to have...discovered my head voice? I don't even know, but I feel like I've unlocked a level on a video game, and now all of a sudden I can reach high Fs and stuff. It's crazy! Not the prettiest sound yet, but in tune and not entirely offensive, and it doesn't feel like I'm forcing it or anything. I can't explain it. Hopefully it won't suddenly disappear again. I don't trust it yet.

I'm working on my Shelley chapter as diligently as I can, which is going okay, though I'm not sure whether it will be done on time. No doubt it will hinge upon my ability to just hunker down and ignore all other things until it's finished, which may or may not happen, we will see. There are lots more interesting connections cropping up between Promethean myth and Faustian myth, between Goethe and Shelley, so I'm fairly confident that at the very least I'm not making up connections and arguments where none actually exist. The problem, as usual, is articulating all of these things in a meaningful way, which can only be accomplished, so far as I can tell, by pecking at a sentence or two, staring off into space for an hour, rinse, repeat.

Occasionally there is tea somewhere in there too. And sandwiches.

Beyond that, I went to a workshop last week on how the publishing world is faring (here's a hint: not well) and how best to deal with it as an academic, and received the comforting news that while the market is terrible and the competition fierce, my style of research--aka, big and sprawling--is far more appealing to publishers than the narrower case studies which tend to be in vogue within thesis writing. So when I emerge, pale and blinking, from the bowels of my degree, I may actually stand a chance of getting an editor interested in my work. But of course, that is in the far distant future.

In the less distant future, I've been accepted at a four day summer school program on intellectual history run by UCL and Sussex, so I'll be taking a trip down to London for that in September, which is exciting. Hopefully I'll be able to get money from my department to pay for it, or if not, somewhere else. I'm also applying for a second teaching position out of the School for Combined Honours, which is basically a liberal arts degree some Durham students can apply for, rather than the usual UK specialisation scheme. Their one required course is the one I'd be teaching on, and basically is designed to foster critical thinking and self-reflection in first year students. If by some great good fortune I manage to get a position doing that as well as teaching within my department, I could actually pay for my rent through teaching alone! That would be nice.

In less businesslike news, I went to a friend's birthday party the other day and had excellent drinks and burgers with lots of fun and lovely people, and then had a very entertaining time getting back the next day because all of the trains south were delayed due to...wayward cows. Apparently the farmer had to be informed that exactly nineteen cows had gotten free and were loitering around the track, like you do. The droll announcement of this over the tannoy more than made up for the delay, in my opinion. Also, there was a very small child on the train who, unlike the rest of his family, who were dressed like normal weekenders, was done up in tweed and was earnestly asking various passengers, "Excuse me sir/madame, does this train go to Derby?" which was basically the most adorable, ridiculous and English thing I have ever seen in my life. So yes, train travel--it's a fun time. Far more fun than planes.

The rest of the week will no doubt be far less interesting than all this, because it is just writing, writing, writing, 'til this chapter is done. Fingers crossed that the words come easy.

Roma! Choir Tour 2012

A somewhat late round up of my week in Rome with the choir, because the week back has been a little hectic!

Firstly, Rome was lovely, and the group was surprisingly congenial, given its size. I think there were about thirty of us in all, but as far as I know we managed to escape most forms of drama, which was excellent. We all had to trundle over to Leeds Bradford at five in the morning, which was just lovely, and then queue for forever due to the airport being under construction, but other than that, our travel was mostly smooth.

(As it would turn out, Leeds Bradford apparently hates me, but more on that later.)

Rome was ridiculously warm, and getting warmer, which was initially entirely welcome because Durham when we left it was cold and miserable. On the other hand, however, it was really, really warm. I got a bit sunburnt initially, then tanned, and then just oppressed by the heat, which was up in the very high 90s by the time we left, such that the Durham weather now seems, while not precisely nice, at least a bit more comfortable.

I am really happy with the tan, though. I forgot my skin could turn this colour.

Our first rehearsal was in a Jesuit meetinghouse that had been restored to its former glory after being forgotten for some time, and it was resplendent with the usual Italian aesthetic of coloured marble and gold festooned in every direction. It was a pleasure to sing in, and pleasantly cool in contrast to the outdoors. We ended up doing an evensong service in there at the end of the week, which was attended apparently by some bigwigs from the Anglican church, among others--all in all, it was a surprisingly good crowd.

In fact, we got quite good audiences for nearly all performances, probably in part due to some impromptu performances in St. Peter's Square, the Spanish steps, and various street corners.

Incidentally, I should mention that we were practically staying on the Vatican's doorstep. We were hosted by four very kind nuns with very limited English and were able to mostly come and go as we pleased, with the exception of a curfew. This was the view from my window:

Pretty crazy. We saw the pope drive up in a motorcade the first evening, complete with tinted windowed town cars and circling helicopter.

Anyway, other than the Jesuit venue, we also did a concert in a small medieval church near the Forum, San Giorgio, and couple of services in the only Anglican church in Rome, All Saints, which was also lovely, but which I resent due to the fact that I blame its warm central hall and chilly basement for my cold, which developed half-way through the week. It wasn't long after that I lost my voice completely and therefore failed to contribute all that much to performances, which was more than somewhat irritating.

Nevertheless, I did manage to continue to have fun and socialise, albeit while apologising profusely for having to blow my nose every fifteen seconds. I went with one group of people to the Coliseum, and another to the Spanish steps and the Pantheon, and got some shopping in as well. Roman fashion seemed all about the nicely cut pencil dresses and suiting, which was good for me and bad for my wallet, and I only barely managed to restrain myself from acquiring many nautical dresses and comfy shoes. Overall, it was a very fun trip with very good company.

The only hiccup luckily/unluckily occurred at the very end of the trip when we arrived back at Leeds Bradford, at which point I was questioned yet again about my visa, only this time they didn't simply ask me about my past failtasticness at paperwork; instead, they decided to not tell me what was going on, pull me aside for questioning while handing me a sheet of paper that says they're "withholding my right to remain in the UK" (thereby inducing panic in me while several more plane-loads of people went past me in line), search my bags, question me again, and then finally ask me about my visa trouble, which I suspect would have prevented all of that hullabaloo in the first place. So it seems that despite the fact that I've now had three customs officers tell me they're going to clear this nonsense from my record, it still hasn't been cleared, so I'm going to have to call/make an appointment with the US Embassy to basically ask, "WTF, mate?" and have them deal with it. Oy.

Oh, and of course this was all taking place while everyone else in the choir had already gone through and was waiting in the bus on the other end of things, causing me to tell them to leave without me, which they would have...had the bus not gotten stuck behind some ridiculous barrier, therefore delaying them long enough for me to emerge, searched but unscathed.

It was a bit of a mess. There was a lot of trash talking about Yorkshire on the way back.

But anyway, that was the only hiccup, and it was my hiccup alone! So all in all, a good trip indeed.

I will accept the use of 'aluminium' and 'courgette', but not this.

I will never get used to the British definition of 'republican' as opposed to the American one. I was deeply confused today when, after singing in the Trinity Day service, which of course was also used to mark the Queen's Jubilee, the chaplain jokingly apologised to any republicans that might be around.

Also, I never realised that "My country 'tis of thee" is actually the Brit national anthem with all of the lyrics about saving the Queen changed to talking about freedom. Hilarious! It fills me with an amused sort of patriotism, which is the best kind of patriotism.