Dover, Around, Under and Through Life is just like tying your shoe . . .

This weekend was a whirlwind of lovely events including my first ever game of and victory in a game of darts, a trip to the British museum (full of wonderful, magical and mystical things) were we saw the Rosetta stone and figurines from the parthenon among other objects, my first University of London mass (accompanied by free shortbread, yay!) and a daytrip to Dover.

Dover, why Dover?  Well, because that's were my friends were going.  That and they assured me there was a wonderful castle there and some pretty white Cliffs of literary repute.  Lucky for me they weren't lying.

Departing our flats at 7:00 we took a bus to Victoria from which we took a train (choo choo) out into the plush British countryside.  I must confess, after seeing "green" again, I realized how much I miss this little thing we call grass back in the states.  There isn't much of it in Londontown, that's for sure!

Upon arrival in Dover we ate lunch at a cute little cafe where the famous and fabulous John Queally ordered himself a nice cup of tea while the rest of us nibbled on sandwhiches in preparation for the days adventures.

Adventure 1. Climb what had to be at least five hundred and fifty stairs to a plateau leading to a hill (which we also climbed of course) to the entrance of the castle.  After paying our eight pounds we continued on in search of the oldest building in Britain, a lighthouse built by the Romans in the first century.  Simply stunning! But not nearly as beautiful as the tenth century church right next to us that had lovely little signs on the door inviting us to "Come on in."  The doors were locked.  interesting :)  However, the exterior was more than enough to keep us occupied for quite some time.  The magnificence of a beautiful church perched atop God's beautiful creation admiring the sea in all its superior magnificence.  After all, despite the beauty of the Church it didn't hold a candle to the beauty of the natural landscape.   Gosh darn it all!  God out did us humans again, go figure, show off :)  (Javs!  stop tapping your nose!)

From the beautiful Church on a bluff we went down toward the main keep and while it was closed for renovation, we were able to see the old sacristy and chapel for the main castle building as well as several smaller side buildings.  

We proved we were children at heart, however, when we spent a good twenty minutes taking pictures inside of and jumping out of a small hole in the wall . . . :) (Much more spectacular when its out of the side of an old castle, for those of you traveling Europe, I highly suggest you plan it into your shedule - as they say in the U.K.).

Anyhoo, we finished up our self tour and went on to a guided tour of "The Secret WArtime Tunnels" located under the castle and originating from Napoleonic times.  In fact, the castle of Dover was the only castle not to be taken by Napoleon during his conquest . . .  To Be Continued . . .

Dancing Queen Young and Sweet, only . . .

20?  MMMM, yea.  Maybe not quite how the lyrics go.  I just wanted to tell you all how much I love going out dancing.  My friends are great, the music was great and goodness gracious, who doesn't love dancing! 

Royal Flush

Wow, terrible song reference, I just couldn't resist :)  

They do a lot of things differently in London, big red do

uble decker buses, funny phrases, traffic lights? (If anyone understands how the pedestrian walk symbols work here, please, let me know!)

But who would have guessed some places here have palac

es for bathrooms?

On Sunday, the entire group went to a "pub lunch" compliments of the UND.  Lunch was delicious, pub was very nice, but let me tell

 YOU, after most everyone else had left we decided to check out the "toilets" per out professo

rs recommendation and, well, for practical reasons of course.  

So there we are bouncing down the stairs, opening the door and then squealing like little girls

 opening a new dolly on Christmas morning.  There was a big beautiful marble anteroom of sorts with luxurious couches to lounge on.  The next room, with four personal rooms containing toilets was centered around a small fountain and several roman styl

e columns.  The Final room had two more self-contained toilets and another fine couch for lounging beneath quite intricate molding. Ironically, only one of the toilets worked, hmm.

We couldn't resist a quick photo shoot, which, I would imagine quite frustrated the boys with us, especially since they sent one in after us . . . he looked right at home too, kinda frightening how much he liked it . . . 

Much sight seeing commenced following our inspirational bathroom visit . . . pictures and such to follow :)  I'm still figuring out how to 

Happy Fabregas Day!

Molly, this blog goes out to you, in honor of your dedication to the Arsenal Football club.

My roommate Molly and I have decided that Arsenal is our football team of choice.  We have decided to become THE best Arsenal Fans there are.

And how do we plan on doing this?  Well, we developed a rather effective rather foolproof game plan, it goes something like this . . . 

1. WIkipedia Arsenal

2. Click on every link possible in the Arsenal Article on Wikipedia

3. Watch Arsenal games (the next one is Jan 28 against Everton)

4. incessantly recite all facts learned to those who doubt your fanhood

5. Display physical evidence of your fanhood on your walls(like the poster above we now have hanging on our wall) and (eventually) on your necks (we hope to get arsenal scarves soon)

6. Learn a new player's name, number, position and hometown each day and place their sticky note on the wall as if they were players on a field, creating a field of sticky note people on your wall.

7. Rename your room "The Emirates" after Arsenal's glorious stadium (now located in haywell which is located in the borough of Islington, the same borough as clerkenwell where Molly and I live).

8.  Know who Fabregas is and proceed to "chase" him.

9. Plan to attend and do attend at least one arsenal match.

All in all a beautiful plan, copyrights do apply :) 

Wake up and smell the HEATER!

Londontown most certainly loves me.

How do I know?  This morning it woke me up when it caused my heater to fall on top of me.

What else could it be but love at first sight? right?

SO, Miss Bodien, how does one forget their passport? Well, Cornelius . . .

As far as number one goes, a bit more explanation and a few props are in order.  I forgot my passport at home in Detroit, Yes ______(insert your name here)___ I left my passport at home.

Unfortunately, I only discovered this upon arriving at the O'Hare airport after driving through some of the more treacherous weather I've seen in my life.  Despite my normally cheery outlook, I just couldn't initially fathom anyway to get myself out of this one.

While on the phone with our director, I realized my friend, Danny D had texted me earlier telling me his flight was delayed in Detroit (in case you forgot, this is the very same city my passport has been forgotten in).  Hanging up with Judy I hurriedly dial Dan.  His phone doesn't pick up, oh dear.  Lucky for me, um . . . 1,2,3, yea i think it was, tenth time was the charm.  Dan answers confirms he'd be happy to transport my passport.  His flight is due in at five, so we should be able to make the 5:55 flight to London only an hour or so behind the 4:00p.m. flight.

So my lovely grandparents kindly agreed to brave the subzero temperatures and multi-car crashes and a two hour drive (normally forty five minutes) to drive my passport to the airport.  They weren't able to catch Dan's flight.  

BUT DON"T WORRY!  (I know you were beginning to!) The Gparents arrived safely at the airport, and after speaking with a customer service rep (we tried to call to pre-explain the situation to them, but would you believe, there's no such thing as a direct number to united airlines customer service at the detroit airport? baloney sandwich), determined they weren't able to complete the counter to counter service they had told us about.  

Counter to counter service is where they put something on a flight and then pass it off to the person at the other end.  However, they spoke personally with the captain who agreed to hand deliver it to us at the Chicago airport.  The nice man even called to let us know he had it.  

Back to the home front:

Poor sister Stephie had a big math test the next day and probably felt like doing more studying than childcare, but since the Grandparents were busy saving my behind and playing road warriors, she had to step up and take care of the littles.  Such a sweetheart :)  It'll be fun to have her down on campus with Davis (aka David) and I next year!

As Stephanie is selflessly shouldering the responsibility of the littles Gramma and Grampa (Road warriors Extreme edition) drive another two hours through a frozen tundra. During the ride, when we called to confirm things and thank them my Grampa gave me some invaluable advice . . . "Laura, your passport is kind of like your underwear, ya know? People just kind of expect you to have it.  Next time, maybe think of it as your underwear"  I think Mom just about died laughing :) 

Finally, the passport made it in, only shortly after Dan's flight got in, and following a delicious dinner, made better by Dad squirting Mom in the face with a water bottle (supposedly as payback for one time she covered him in ketchup while they were dating), my luggage was checked and I was on my way at 9:00p.m.  En route to London with Dan and our newfound friend, Shay.

Upon arriving in London, the reason I forgot my passport became apparent.  I was the only one with directions to the flat.  Really, Shay and Dan, if you wanted directions all you had to do was call, hijacking my passport was quite unnecessary . . . : D

Anyhoo, a train ride and a taxi trip later we arrived at the flats, dropped off our stuff and set out into the big bad city of London to find the London Center (our class building) finally, with the help of a friendly policeman (or bobby rather) we made our way to the building. 

Just as most everyone else was leaving.

We were just in time for our non-parliament internship meeting.  As we were guided into the meeting the PRofessor, Cornelius OBoyle, asked us our names.  We answered. He nodded. We sat down.  End of game right?

Laura Bodien?  Where is Laura Bodien? *I raise my hand* "So Laura, we were just talking about you.  Miss Bodien, how on earth does one forget their passport?"

Thus began my infamy as "Laura, the girl who left her passport"

SO thanks everyone for your help and (as the man at the bookstore said) CHEERS! 

There are a number of things one should attempt to do or not do while traveling abroad.  Let's just say I learned the hard way . . . 

1. Under no condition should one leave ones passport at home on the copier when you have already driven to the Chicago airport to catch a flight.

2. Upon obtaining your passport and finally making it past those golden security gates be sure to pay attention to the signs instructing you to remove your computer from your bag instead of worrying about how you are not wearing socks and will shortly have to take your shoes off to walk through the metal detector.

3.  Wear socks to the airport.  Who knows what's been on that floor!

4.  When the man at customs tells you that, because your computer is a mac it cannot be taken on the plane, don't believe him.  He's pulling your leg.

5.  If the zipper on your suitcase is split when you pick it up from baggage KEEP AN EYE ON IT - mine ended up splitting completely except for one small part - kind of a miracle i didn't lose all my shoes and my pretty pink bags!

6.  When riding on a train and passing around luggage do not allow your train ticket to be misplaced before the nice British Ticket lady comes around to punch them.

7. When the nice British Ticket lady doesn't have you buy a new 16 pound ticket, do not accidentally answer her in a British accent (even if you do it well).

8. While unpacking your broken suitcase don't accidentally tear off the zipper, makes it tough to get the luggage back.

You know, you should really all thank me.  (Well me and my loved ones who helped my disastrous trip to London turn out as a success).  Because of us you won't have to learn any of these trendy travel trips the hardway

Sternoclieno - factoid?

The sternocleidomastoid is a paired muscle in the superficial layers of the anterior portion of the neck.  It acts to flex and rotate the head.

Or so my little brother Jack would tell us :)  Jack, number six of seven and one of two boys in the family has been affectionately named "factoid."  His name is well-earned.  He loves rambling off random facts and making terrible fact based jokes.  Today's favorite - Laura!  how many snowflakes are alike? Me: none Jack they're all different Jack: Wrong!  They're all white! oh dear

Life in a big family is wonderful.  Full of love and joy and laughter.  I can't imagine anything different to tell you the truth.  And those of you that don't have one, big families are always looking for more members.  I suggest you join up.  Why? Where else can you be absolutely insane and fit right in?

My last evening before London began in fine form at the end of dinner, with Annie demonstrating how her teacher taught her to shoot rubber bands.  Dad found this to be incredibly resourceful and decided to take the opportunity to begin a full blown rubber band war.  Dad versus children (Me, Annie (#4) and Mary Kate (our nine year old baby)). At first, we three girls thought we'd wait it out in our dinner bench turned bunker,  UNfortunately Dad is a far better  rubber band fighter than we are.  Action was imminent.  The girls raced up the stairs  hoping to hold the upper ground dressed in towels, turbie twists and winter coats, but i ended up booby trapped into my little sisters room with a rubber band and a vacuum cleaner while annie and mary kate ran from Dad down stairs screaming like chickens with their heads cut off.  

Finally I managed an escape only to discover Dad had ALL the rubber bands.  This called for serious action.  MK provided a distraction (much yelling, screaming and very dramatic acting) while annie and I got some pillows and mounted a sneak attack.  Sneakiness is apparently not our strength since we soon had to resort to a three person dogpile on top of Dad on the couch to restrain him.  At that moment it occurred to us we had used the rubberbands Jack needed for his science fair project.  Ooooops. I hope we found them all . . . 

Later that night factoid himself (jack) added to the night of ridiculosity.  My Dad has recently committed to a healthier diet and 30 minutes of exercise per day.  Jack, doing his best to offer sincere and heartfelt prayers amidst a giddy bunch (Amy making monkey faces, Annie and Mary Kate laughing at Amy's accusations that Dad had been snoring during her "special prayer time," and Mom trying with all her might to ignore our dog, Abby, pawing at her arm and whining to go outside), prayed for Daddy to laugh more.  Because every time you laugh, you lose three calories.

Needless to say, following his very candid remark, serious prayers were out of the question as we spent the rest of them trying to help Dad lose weight by making him laugh.

What peace and joy and happiness.  I only hope you all get to experience the joy of an intrafamilial rubber band fight at least once in your life :)

Work Work Work, pooor Cinderelly

To my dearest friends and fellow country persons (whichever country you may be in)

For those of you who are slightly puzzled by the title of this blog, let me explain.  Mumsy darling (and whomever else has bought me bags over the past few years) has deemed pink to be an excellent color for my school bags. (Strangely my favorite color is not pink, but blue).  Therefore, friends on campus have come to identify me in clod and dreary south bend by my bright pink bags.  They oftentimes chastise me for leaving it where they could trip over it at the entrance to the dining hall or, conversely, thank their lucky stars I have such a distinguishable bag so they know they're not awkwardly hailing down some mysterious Laura look alike.

Either way, pink bags have become an integral part of my Notre Dame experience, and I would hate to leave them out of a semester in London :)  Therefore, let the adventures begin.  Pink bags and all :)  Peace! 

. . . and I bit of haiku for the poetry lover.  Quality, real quality.

Big pretty pink bags

House my life on campus 

Now head to London