something that is only supposed to happen to other people.

my computer crashed yesterday. computers crashing happens to other people. not me. backing up a hard drive is only for other people who aren't as lucky as me and have to work harder to get the same results as me. after i put my england pictures on my computer about a week ago, nagging voices in my head constantly said, "don't delete the memory card," and "you should probably put those on a flash drive," and "even photobucket would be better than having your computer be the sole place for all of your pictures." i keep thinking that when i wake up, it will just be a bad dream and i will go over and put my pictures on a flash drive and wipe the sweat from my brow. i keep thinking of pictures that i want to go look at or use for some project or this blog and realize that those pictures don't exist. they are no where. they aren't lost, they have just evaporated. and now i am left only with memories of those two months of my life in england, and memories of all of those pictures i painstakingly took even though i would have rather not have lugged my camera everywhere. but i wanted those beautiful pictures that only i wanted, that were stupid or beautiful but i took them. i know i am whining, but they are all gone. after the apple computer man talked to me and i was crying and my mom and lauren felt bad for me, all i could do was lie on the couch for a while, and then after a while i could play my guitar, and then i told my mom i needed to go to a book store. so she bought me a bunch of books in preparation for paris. friends, i'm afraid that when i get sad all i can do is look forward to paris instead of looking back at all of those beautiful pictures that i will never see again in a land that i fell in love with.

one more thing before i head to eastern canada...

I have adopted a new pose for inherently famous places.

I think it could mean


stick it to the man


(in front of the trevi fountain)

or "look at me questioning the authority of powerful people"


like the Pope.
(in front of St. Peter's Basilica)

or the qeen.

As promised:


or just, "that's right, what's the closest thing on my body to this famous place?"

what do you think it means?

miss these people:

I was the only one who knew there were multiple pictures being taken. Actually, Katy Anderson is a statue.

Signs in England

I talked to my mom on the phone while I was in London, and she told me how funny she thought the "mind the gap" signs are on the London Underground. Please read it in a cool announcer-type woman's voice with a British accent.

Here are signs in Britain, Italy and Ireland I thought were funny:

This is a poster that encourages owners to keep their dogs out of pastures they shouldn't be in around Loch Lomond. It's not funny until you read the smaller print:

Hmm.

yes, the grass is very diverting.

look at the sign. not my face. thanks rachel ashby for not suggesting in the slightest that i may want to take another picture.

ha.

just like chickens.

oh...cute.

"sheep worrying" means anything that may make the sheep start running away from you. sheep are serious business here.

the first sentence. it's only funny if you read "conservation" with wrong like I did so it reads "conversation." so typically British! I thought when I took the picture. Then the more I laughed, the more I realized how stupid I was.

If you can't read that sign, it says "bumping stone: used in the initiation of new choristers." Yes, that dent to the right of the sign is used to initiate new choristers by pounding their heads into that solid stone. Okay, not pounding, more like politely shoving. Centuries later, there is a dip.

Don't be shy. Dominate those railings.

I am home. and Stourhead Gardens.

I chased the sun yesterday, all the way back to the northwest. For the 22 hours I was traveling, the sun was up--from Dublin to Portland. Oh yeah, and in Chicago, and Denver too.

I promised pictures a long time ago, so now, pictures you shall have! I am trying to pick out my favorite ones so that you don't all hate me. and I have added pictures to the previous posts because i now have a computer that doesn't start counting down the seconds after a half hour. yay!

This was a long time ago, so don't get confused. We went to Stourhead gardens, which is a beautiful estate where the Victorian owners decided to go all neoclassical in their garden. Results:


For those of you who recognized the gazebo in the last picture, 20 points for you! That is where the famous proposal scene of the newest adaptation of Pride and Prejudice takes place! I waited there for my own Mr. Darcy, but he didn't come. I think the weather was too good. It should have been raining. Mr. Darcy can only propose in the rain I guess. Instead I got a beautiful view from the gazebo:

Fortunately, I was still able to do something sort of romantic in the gardens. There was a stone grotto that we went inside of and there was a little fountain with a stone nymph lying down, and Katy Anderson said in passing that it would be beautiful to give an offering to the nymph. I pulled out the purple flower she had put in my hair, handed her my camera, and slipped into the cold water.

It was actually a lot deeper than I thought it was,

but the flower was in her hand, and the offering was made.

and everyone ever afterward wondered where that purple flower in her hand came from. Until it rotted away.