Wednesday, June 7, 1989

Farewell, Guitar (And 10 Things I Still Worry About) ...

Woke up far too early, ate breakfast, and then at 9:30 a.m. took my Modern Prose Fiction exam. A few of the questions were not what I'd expected, and on the last question, I failed to catch one of the key instructions... that we were not to repeat use of any author more than once... and I did. Hope that doesn't mess me up too much. Overall, I think I did alright.

After the exam, which used all of the three hours I was given, I returned to The Grange to relax, eat lunch, watch the news, and talk for a bit with Jane. (Jane is pictured here in the center, along with some of her friends. Chris is sitting next to her, Vicki and Ian are standing to the right, and I believe the guy to the left was named Sean.)

Later, she bought my guitar from me for £25. A good deal for her, and a good one for me as well, as that is now one less thing I need to worry about before I leave England.

Here, however, is a list of the worries that I still do have:

1. What am I going to do with my hamster Shannon?
2. When am I going to get that letter from Viv with a check so that I can buy her plane ticket?
3. How am I going to get all of my stuff back home?
4. Money... though I'm not worried quite so much.
5. Exams
6. Housing and registration at Millersville next fall. (Will they get the registration form that I stuck under the office door?)
7. Finding some posters for Mrs. Rogoff, my former high school English teacher who gave me $20 for that quest before I came to England.
8. Finding a job when I return home.
9. Getting my cashpoint card back from Lloyd's bank before I leave here.
10. How can we get a Republican majority back in Congress?

This is pretty much in decending order, and I think I can let George Bush worry more about #10.

Getting back to the day's events, I got a letter from Debbie's parents, which was a nice surprise. That's about the extent of the rest of the day's events.

Tuesday, October 4, 1988

Burning the Midnight Oil with the Guy Who Looks Like the Lead Singer of Midnight Oil

I woke up and went to class this morning. Not much exciting there. I spent the day just dogging around until around 6 p.m., when I went out for another run on my own to visit Karin. She wasn’t at her flat, but I left a note for her to stop in later. All-in-all, I ran five miles today, and felt pretty good afterward. Maybe I’ll be able to stick with this.

Later on, at about 9 p.m., a girl named Vicki and an friend of hers stopped by my room. I had met Vicki earlier in the day, and she told me she has no place to stay at the moment. I told her I’d talk to Karin and see if she possibly had an extra room in her flat. However, since Karin was not in when I visited, I had no news for them, so alas, they were out of luck. I offered to let them stay in my room until they found something. They then left to look at another place (located on Karin’s street.) I haven’t seen them since, so hopefully they did OK.

Well, it wasn’t 10 minutes after they left when Karin stopped into my room, and we sat and talked over coffee until about 1 a.m. After our excellent conversation, she left to return to her flat, and I went up to the community phone to attempt to call Mom and Dad again. After two attempts, I got through… but once again Dad wasn’t home. I talked to Mom for about 10 minutes, and we determined that on Sunday at 11 p.m. (GMT, or 6 p.m. EST) she would call me at the residence phone. (So don’t forget!) Hopefully the phone will be available at that time.

After our phone call, I started talking to Steve, who is the “resident assistant” for St. Martin’s Hall (the main entrance to St. Martin's is pictured above). Friendly fellow… tall, bald… he looks a lot like the lead singer of Midnight Oil. He has a habit of starting sentences and greeting you with “OK…” He’s from Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, a few hours north of Hull, and though that’s not too far away, the difference in his accent verses the local accent here is staggering. I’ll admit, it was difficult to understand a lot of what he said. Still we sat in his room and talked over tea until about 3:30 a.m. He is big into history (especially war), and appropriately enough, accents. When we were finished talking, I was good and knackered, so it was off to bed.