Week Seven - thrice bumped during 'Vindaloo'

Week Seven was pretty much consumed with rowing. The big four-day Torpids race happened this week -- what a blast! Torpids is a race where all the colleges compete to be the "Head of the River", or fastest boat. The race consists of 13 boats on the water at a time, one-and-a-half boat lengths apart. Each boat attempts to catch up with the boat in front of them. So, you get to the top by literally ramming into (or "bumping" as they call it) your competition in front of you. (And unless the cox concedes, you actually have to hit the boat in front of you or it doesn't count as a bump!) If you bump a boat all four days of the race, then you win "Blades", which actually means that every girl in the boat gets an oar to keep with all of our names engraved on it. Your college's position in the race is determined by your college's position in previous years, so for older colleges, this means that their position is determined by the hundreds of students that have rowed for the college in the past. They say that we are all part of a hundred-year tradition by participating in Torpids. Very cool.

So, as I described in the last post, I was supposed to row in Linacre's B-Boat, BUT, when one of the A-Boaters broke her sternum in the varsity Judo match (that gives you an indication of the hardcore type of chick in the A-Boat), I got called up. That's right, I made the big time: the A-Boat! So, I rowed insanely hard busting my butt for four days to help Linacre bump some boats. It was tough, and the water level was dangerously high, such that only senior coxes and 'experienced' boats could race. (The race planners even had ten different back-up scenarios to cope with the weather conditions. For example, when the water level rose the day before the race, we got an email saying: "We will now go into a contingency plan known as 'Vindaloo.'" Yes, they named the contingency plans; this one after a curry dish.)

Sadly, Linacre didn't really shine in the races, as we ourselves got bumped three times, but we had an amazing time doing it! And, at least we didn't get bumped all four days -- there is even a special award called "Spoons" for that. So we didn't really get the glory, but at least we didn't get spoons!

Racing on the Isis... I'm third from the back.

The A-Boat crew post-race...

During this week, we also managed to fit in a trip to Stratford Upon Avon to see the Royal Shakespeare Company perform King Lear. (I went straight from racing to the Stratford bus, so I wore spandex to the theater. Oh, and those striped socks. That wasn't embarrassing or anything.) We also spent a night hanging out and playing cards at The Vic with all our pals. And then on Saturday, the rowing team had a nice Russian dinner to celebrate completing Torpids sans spoons. It was so much fun to celebrate with everyone and feel like a real part of a team. I can't wait for the next race!

Week Six - bumping via boats and dance

Hilary Term is just flying by before my eyes. I wish I could just freeze this moment in time. Alas, as I cannot, at least I will document every awesome moment that makes me pinch myself.

This week I found out that my boat - the B Boat (that's right, it's the boat with the smaller chicks -- what we lack in thigh size though, we make up for in spirit, usually expressed via face paint) - had to "row-on" on Friday to qualify to race in Torpids. SO, that meant a ton of practicing. Even one at 5:30 am. Ok, seriously, that's early. The gates to the river entrance don't even open until 6am, so I was literally told to "jump the fence" to get in. I figured, "oh, no biggie, I'm sure it's like waist height." Nope. I spent 15 minutes trying to get over that fence -- it was a 12-foot fence at the end of a bridge, so I had to hop over the bridge, clasping the sides like the last piece of cake before a diet, just so that I wouldn't plunge into the river below; I then shimmied along the bank fence, suspending myself over the water, until 20 feet later, I could climb a tree to get over. I need to take a picture of this bridge/fence/tree scene, because you just wouldn't believe it. Anyways, long story short, I was late to practice, and had a rip in my pants (as I caught the fence on my leap over the top). The fence had managed to avoid piercing the ten handwarmer packets that I had strategically placed around my body to keep warm, so at least I luckily avoided exposure to chemicals.

All the practice was worth it, though, as on Friday, we kicked butt and came in 6th out of 30 crews. We qualified!!! Next week, we race in Torpids (a race where you literally try to ram into, or "bump", the boat in front of you) .... stay tuned.

The Crew...

The gear...

After the race... (see that team spirit I was talkin' bout?!)

Celebrating the big win at the Turf...

Also this week, we had a little curry dinner, card playing, and trip planning on our fancy new metal fold-up table that is covered with a sheet. (see pic below) You'd never guess that it could fold up to paper size, would ya?! Ah, dorm living.

On Friday night, we had a little game night where we played "Things." I described this game in an earlier post -- we had so much fun that night that we decided we had to play again. It's the game where people write down categories like "Things you do when no one is looking", "Things you say to your mother-in-law" etc. and then everyone writes down their responses and you have to guess who wrote what. I bring this up because reading a certain one of our friend Kevin's categories and response classifies as one of those memorable moments I mentioned earlier. See for yourself in the pics below.

Category:

Response:

On Saturday, Will and I volunteered to help out at Rotary's fundraising drive for polio eradication. So for a few hours in Bicester, we collected donations from people walking around the Bicester Tesco and helped raise awareness about polio and Rotary. The event was a success as Rotary raised 545 pounds!

Then on Saturday night, I went to a beer tasting (where I taught my British friends to play Flip Cup!) and dancing with the ladies at The Bridge. So, all in all, Week Six was a fantastic time, and I wish I could redo it, and the whole of Hilary Term actually, like Bill Murray in Groundhog's Day.

Whingeing in the RAIN...

Ok seriously, I can take the cold, the snow, the fog, the cloudiness, and the darkness (thanks to fake tanners), but I seriously cannot take any more RAIN. It rains like every day here. I feel like I must accidentally be doing some sorta raindance when I get dressed to go outside, because I swear, the second I'm ready to leave the indoors, it starts. Just a little at first, so that you feel like it's safe to bike in it, but then once you're too far to go back and ditch the bike, it starts pounding. Tricky rain. I am determined not to let It stop me from doing things, though, which has resulted in some near disasters.

This week alone, let's see... I biked in it, one hand on the handlebar and the other holding an umbrella. (Sorry mom, I know it's dangerous, but desperation got the best of me. I'm no quitter!) I thought I had this under control as I stayed on empty sidewalks, away from small animals and children. But, I forgot that one of Henry's brakes is broken, so when my handlebarred hand's break didn't stop the bike on my downhill path, I just had to keep on going until I found something soft to ram. Then, to top it off, the umbrella flipped inside-out. I think my rain-biking days are numbered. (I also can't take the thought of sitting on another wet bikeseat -- it's not cool walking around looking like I've peed my pants.)

I've also been walking in it, even when it's blowing in sideways. Because I've been pressing the umbrella directly on my head (to block maximum rain), it blocks my vision, so, to the horror of some construction workers, I walked directly onto their fresh cement. And I had both feet in before I realized my shoes were stuck. Super. Also, (due to the umbrella-head-pressing), my hair got stuck in the wiring, so when the gale-force winds blew the umbrella out of my hand, my hair, and thus head, followed it. Talk about embarrassing.

Rain: 3; Vanessa: 0.

Iguana Update - thanks to guest blogger Mama Sisti

After my mom saw the "Dad v. The Iguana's" blog post, she gave me a little update on The Situation. I thought I'd paste her response for you all, and make my mom A Broad's first Guest Blogger:

"So here's an update on the iguanas: the 13 day cold snap killed them! We know this because now the vultures are digging the carcasses up from the ground where the iguanas had burrowed to keep warm. They are pulling on tails and pulling up half decomposed iguanas and feasting...isn't nature wonderful?
I think we FINALLY got rid of the pests."

She also told me that due to this new situation, Dad Sisti has been accidentally running over iguana skeletons whilst mowing the lawn. Man, that cannot be good for karma. Our yard has become an iguana graveyard.

Week Five - eating pancakes, butter, and glue and sculpting busts

This week, we celebrated Pancake Day! Basically, on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday (when Lent and fasting begin), the UK celebrates Shrove Tuesday, or Pancake Day, by devouring a ton of pancakes with lots of crazy toppings. Seems contrary to prepare for fasting by pancake-bingeing, but who am I to argue with a holiday that involves chocolate pancakes? Apparently, this tradition started about 1000 years ago when folks decided that fasting season should be kicked off with a massive party where people ate at much fatty food as possible. Mardi Gras or 'Fat Tuesday" has the same origin - crazy right? My College advertised this event as a chance (no joke) for "all of us to eat ourselves stupid", so all the dorms got together to cook the traditional pancakes. We flipped some nutella-loaded pancakes and covered them with toppings both sweet and savory -- we're talking everything from berries and cream to onions and meat. I'll take a meat pancake for dinner any day. Good stuff. I plan on celebrating Pancake Day in the States -- I predict it will be a hit. Americans love celebrations involving food.

Also this week, I had another sculpting class! Unlike the last class where we sculpted a whole person (remember my little naked lady sculpture?), in this class we sculpted busts. We once again had a live model, and despite the fact that this time, she was fully clothed, I again had a tough time staring at her. I was always taught that was impolite -- old habits die hard. So, my lady bust might have suffered. In fact, I may have unknowingly compensated for the lack of staring by using my own likeness to sculpt the face, as my teacher walked up to my bust and said: 'you know, the first time people sculpt heads, they tend to sculpt themselves.' Now, I took this as a compliment (as I don't think I'm totally unfortunate looking), until she said, about a minute later: 'You know, it's interesting -- your bust looks like a man.'

Here's a pic of me sculpting my man-lady.

The compliments from Sue, my teacher, didn't stop there though. She was on fire that day. The next memorable comment/constructive criticism was: "She (or He, not sure at this point) looks good from the back." Since I had spent 99% of my time focusing on the face, and hadn't touched the back of the head (which, btw, had started to sag from the weight of the extra-large hair bun I gave Lady Bust to eliminate any doubt as to her femininity), you can see how this might be disconcerting.

Needless to say, I breathlessly await Lady Bust's arrival post-firing, as I'm sure she/he looks way better than I remember from Sue's comments. All joking aside though, I do have to tell you Sue's final comment at the end of class, when she was gazing at Lady-Man Bust before stuffing her in the transport box: "You're wasted on the law." She really thinks this kid has talent. That really meant something. She can call Lady Bust a man anyday.

That day was full of art for me (despite the fact that I had a 3,000 word essay due the next day that was about, oh, 20 words of the way there), as I also went to a mosaic making class! I was in heaven. I mosaic-ed (still not sure of proper terminology here, clearly) a mirror with bright-colored tiles. I thought it was very pretty, and my instructor did to (you see a theme here?) She said I had natural talent for this and 'quite the eye for color.' Don't worry though, my head isn't getting too big. As soon as I got home with it to proudly display the artistic genius to Will, he deflated my big head by asking if I got it from the kid's craft fair. (Due to that little quip, I didn't feel bad when our flatmate later asked him if he cut his own hair.)

I biked home carrying the mosaic (I mean, 'artistic genius') in one hand, while (shockingly!) it was raining, so my art was soaked by the time I got home. When the glue started to weaken and chunks of tile started to slide, I panicked and got the hair drier out. I know, I'm dedicated to my craft, be it kid's-craft-fair mosaics or Lady-Man Busts.

Later that night, I went to a formal dinner at Linacre, where I discovered what my 'third' would be in my series of 'bad' things to happen that day.

#1 was in the morning when I went to button the last button on my coat and all the buttons popped off. I think it was God's way of telling me to lay off the pancakes.

#2 was in the afternoon during mosaic-ing, when I was deep in (artistic genius) thought and raised what I thought was my panini to my mouth only to discover I raised the hand with the gluestick instead. When I saw the look of horror on the girl's face across from me as I was about to chomp into glue, I realized my error and tried to pretend I was sniffing it instead. In retrospect, I'm not sure which was worse. That's so genius-y, eh?

#3 was at the dinner when I bit into a what I thought was a big chunk of brie only to discover that it was in fact butter. In one bite, I consumed my caloric intake for the day. I think it would have been healthier to eat the glue.

Finally, we capped off the week with a trip to London with the Rotary Club. They took us on a fantastic walking tour around the city (through which I walked off my butter-eating calories) and we just fell in love with the city.

'Look kids, Big Ben!'

The Snyders do London.