On serendipitous meetings and coming full circle

This month, I had two very interesting encounters - one with someone I hadn't seen in twelve years, and one with someone I knew via the Internet but never met in real life.  Both encounters happened when I least expected it.

When I was 18, I went to Spain as part of a high school exchange.  We spent two weeks in Madrid in April, and they came and spent two weeks in the US in September.  (Because I was a senior and graduated that June, I arranged it so my student still ended up coming to my house - they let me because my sister was still at the high school.)  It was my first trip abroad and my first time on a plane.

Virginia and I kept in touch on and off for the next few years, but after a while it dropped off.  When I went to Spain in 2008 I really wanted to get back in touch, but all I had was her phone number and address from 10 years ago.  What if she didn't live there any more?  And if she did, would I really want to just call up after seven years of radio silence, or even worse, just show up at the door unannounced?

I got back in touch with Virginia and her sister (as well as some of the other people from the exchange) earlier this year via Facebook.  After a few exchanges I discovered she was coming to England for an English course in Brighton.  We knew we had to get together at some point, because it would be silly for us to be in the same small country and not see each other.  But our scheduled kept not working out - with the snow in January, the volcano in April, me being on duty and her having classes, we just kept missing each other.  Brighton is not exactly close enough for a quick trip - you have to really plan for it.

One night, I got a text from Virginia saying that she was coming to Oxford with a group of friends the next day.  I couldn't believe it - after 12 years, we were going to see each other in less than 12 hours.  She came to Oxford the next day and got the whirlwind tour, and we got to pick up where we left off in 1998.  She's going to stick around in the UK for a while, so I hope we'll get a chance to see each other again before I go home for good (hopefully, next time her sister and/or her parents will be there!).

Today I had another interesting encounter, along similar lines.  Those of you who have been reading this blog since the beginning might remember that back when I started in Oxford, I participated in a little project called Spoil-a-Blogger.  (I'd link to it, but it's no longer online.)  It was like a Secret Santa for bloggers:  for three months, each person sent a surprise package once a month to someone and received a surprise package once a month from someone else.  I sent packages to Catraggedy, and Lori-Lyn sent packages to me.  (There was a complicated system of pseudonyms and fake email addresses so you wouldn't know who was sending you stuff until the end.)

At the end of the project, I found out that Lori-Lyn actually had a longtime connection to Oxford - her mother studied here and always loved it here.  I knew that her mom traveled here once in a while, and just recently found out that both of them were going to be in the UK this month, including being in Oxford late June/early July.  Once I finished moving rooms next week, I had planned to get in touch.

Well, guess who I ran into at M&S today?

I was in the grocery section when I spotted her.  I must have been staring, because she looked at me and we realized we were thinking the same thing.  (We've never met in person until today, so I wasn't completely sure that I wasn't just imagining things.)  I walked up to her, we exchanged a confused "You're not...???" and hugged, and we got to have a quick chat.  Once I move rooms next week and they get settled into their ChCh accommodation, we'll get together again.

It's so interesting to see how things come together by chance, after many years, and all thanks to the Internet.  It's also interesting to see how things come full circle:  the Spoil-a-Blogger project was a memorable part of the beginning of my time in Oxford, and here we are meeting up at the end of my time in Oxford.

Long overdue

I'm getting bad about updating again, and I apologize for that.  But I have been doing interesting things this year:

Like turning 30.

And hosting my dad in Oxford, when he was stuck here due to a volcano in Iceland.

And seeing Prince Charles.

And Flashmobbing.

And Garden Partying, Bopping, Pubbing and High Tabling.

As much as I say I'm ready to be done, there are certain things about Oxford that continue to be amazing to me, even after five years here.

Airports

An ongoing post for my personal reference

• JFK - New York
  
• MAD - Madrid - Barajas
  
• BDL - Bradley-Hartford
  
• BWI - Baltimore
  
• EWR - Newark-Liberty
  
• LHR - London-Heathrow
• BHX - Birmingham, England
• DUB - Dublin, Ireland
• IAD - Washington-Dulles
• PHL - Philadelphia
• MDW - Chicago-Midway
• SAN - San Diego
• SFO - San Francisco
• DTW - Detroit-Wayne County
• LGW - London-Gatwick
• VGO - Vigo, Spain
• AMS - Amsterdam-Schiphol
• YYZ - Toronto-Pearson
• PIT - Pittsburgh
• BOS - Boston-Logan
• RDU - Raleigh-Durham
• ORD - Chicago-O'Hare
  
• DCA - Washington-Reagan
• CLT - Charlotte-Douglas
• STL - Lambert-St. Louis

Target markets

Advertising is such a tricky business, which is why I find it so fascinating.  What I find particularly intriguing is when an advertiser seems to pitch a product to an audience that would not buy said product, but would be likely to influence buyers of the product.  Take kids' products (food, toys, etc.) for example:  advertisers know damn well that kids are not likely to be able to buy Burger King on their own, but they can convince their parents to buy it for them.  Prescription drugs are the same way:  patients can "ask their doctor about Ambien" even though they may not know how the drug will affect them or if it will help at all.

There's a new line of ads from Old Spice that play with this idea.  It's clearly a men's product, but the ads address the ladies:  you want a manly man, one who doesn't smell like floral body wash.  But are they really reaching out to the ladies ("Buy this for your man"), or are they subtly reaching out to the men ("Use this body wash and you'll be more attractive to your lady")?  Either way, I think it's hilarious.  Have a look. (Too wide to embed here, so click through please!)

Hat tip to Corwin for pointing this out. Thanks!

Overnight poetry blogging

Yes, the timestamp is correct.  It's almost 3 am and I'm wide awake.  I always get in this kind of state, where I'm exhausted during the day and wide awake at night.  So I thought I'd try the old standby of blogging myself to sleep.

At the end of my first year in Oxford, I went to a lecture by Michael Swan on language teaching.  He was very interesting and funny, and at the end he shared some of his poetry.  I Googled his stuff tonight and found quite a few of his poems that I like, and will share here.  Enjoy!

Your Poem

Your poem
is rather heavily made up.
It has thick eye shadow
and is plastered with lipstick.
Your poem
is wearing a cantilever bra
and a skirt
with a split
right up to the armpits.

My poem
is not made up at all.
It has flat heels
its hair is cut sensibly
its fingernails are short.
There is nothing flashy about my poem.
The clear light of sincerity
radiates from its eyes
(which are set
rather close together).

My poem
is somewhat contemptuous of your poem
but I have to admit
that yours is the one that gets the men.
(Mine once got asked
to a folk concert
but the guy
didn't turn up.)

We Tried to Tell You

In a shabby pub
down a back street
late one evening
I found my old maths master
sitting at a corner table
crying.

Not a pretty sight,
an old maths teacher
weeping into his beer.

‘Let me tell you this,’
he said.
‘It does not add up.
It does not fucking add up.

Two plus two
is a random number.

The angles of a triangle
make 37 degrees,
or 460, or minus 11,
or nothing you can determine.
Circles bulge.
Squares don’t have enough corners.
Parallel lines
all meet
or do not exist
or go where they bloody feel like.
The x axis
does not come on the same page
as the y axis.

There is no geometry
that fits our space.

You get on the number 4 bus for the station
and when you arrive
it is flight 968 to Istanbul
diverted to Manchester
and you have to walk back.

Time leaks out of the clock
and scampers off sideways.

One woman
is three women
or no woman,
not necessarily
in that order.

You bastards knew all that
didn’t you?
You knew it all along,’
he said,
knocking over his beer.

‘We tried to tell you,’
I said.
‘We tried to tell you.’

Lost in Translation

This poem has been translated
from a language
that is no longer spoken
in order to give it
a wider readership.
Inevitably
it has lost something
in the process
the original is written
in hendacasyllables
with a complex internal rhyme scheme
and is about something completely different.