Sitting today we asked each other the same question:

What happens if the sky falls?

And in our own ways we answered.

If the sky falls, we will rebuild it. If the sky falls, we will build a new sky of the jagged pieces. But whether the sky falls, we will continue to dance. Continue to dream. Continue to move always forward.

Here is the edge of earth and sky. It is all changing. Here we stand to meet it.

New centuries tremble with questions, always the same questions. What changes and how shall we help and how shall we be better than those who came before?

In that century, we stood through the War to end all Wars and through the wars that followed. Here we stand in another. And still there are people hungry, people thirsty, people dying because they have no medicine. Against the screaming harpies Hunger, Thirst, Sickness and Poverty, we must stand together. Against those who will not lend able hands to help a brother-sister, we must stand and dance.

This century, five years old, feels tenuous, feels tender and those who follow us ask already in not yet spoken voices what changes and how did you help and how were you better than those who came before?

We who write, those who sew, those who sing, all who build must stand. The scientists, the doctors, the mechanics and the farmers, the actors, the cooks, the legislators and the taxi drivers, nurses and painters, all must stand on the edge of earth and sky and dance.

Move feet, snap fingers, bop heads, shake limbs dance on the edge to spin forward and change. When the changes are terrible and great, those who hope must step forward to dance; when the changes are difficult and good those who entertain, who cook, who comfort must step forward while others rest. Where there is need let us step to meet it.

There are still tyrants, kings and empires willing to steal the ocean’s freely given salt from the people; rulers who would put laws around a birthright.

We will dance to the ocean and take the salt; we will dance through fields and sow a harvest. We will not sell our birthright and we will seek our blessing. Most of all, we will teach those not yet spoken voices to stand on the edge of earth and sky unafraid.

Here on the edge we are dancers.
We who are about to die, dance. We who dance change the world.

1. Pop Quiz:
   
   While loading your two chosen washing machines in the basement laundry room, one of your neighbors comes down and starts loading the third. You and your neighbor’s laundry starts at the same time and thus will be finished at the same time. Ordinarily, this would not be a problem as there are three washers and three dryers to accommodate them; however, on this day, one of the dryers is out of order. Because there are three loads of clean, though wet clothes and two dryers you and your neighbor now have a problem. You decide to:
   
   a) Just take the two dryers and leave the poor sucker to fend for herself when she arrives in the laundry room minutes after you have left.
   b) Consolidate your two loads into one by removing items that you can hang to dry, thus considerately leaving a dryer for your neighbor.
   c) I don’t do laundry and this quiz is irrelevant to me.
   
   If you chose a, then you are my neighbor, who apparently is a thoughtless boob.
   If you chose b, then you are me and are currently sitting in room surrounded by wet T-shirts on hangers and jeans hung over doors because your neighbor, the thoughtless boob, took the only available dryers for her clothes.
   If you chose c, then you are gross and I can do little to help you.

So much cooler than you:

So I’m at Shakespeare’s today with a couple friends and who should be in front of us but the one and only, Jacqui Bana-what, otherwise known as the Pulitzer Prize winner and general writing guru at the J-school.
These are the pearls of wisdom she imparted to us:

1) She danced while ordering her pizza. She danced while paying for her pizza. We should all dance more often.
2) She said that veggie pizza was “all-girl pizza.”
3) She also said that we should just get beers and dance.

Clearly a woman after my own heart.

The fates are smiling:

Kids, I got an e-mail today that made me squeal. No really, squeal. Grupo Fantasma is playing a concert in Columbia. April 15. Music Café.

I covered this band last year for Adelante. They will rock your face off, even if you don’t speak Spanish. 12 piece band, wicked percussion and horns. This band grooves constantly. It is not to be missed. I expect to see all of you there.

Second, Klezmerica at Mojos this Friday and the Decembrists on Monday at the Blue Note. And Of Montreal will be at Mojos on April 22.

Could life get better? Clearly not.

I’m out. I’ve got some tunes on the stereo and I’ve got to dance.

G.T.T. Y'all.

Looking for a few laughs?

To good not to share, if you have a few moments follow the link and click on "Loose Lion":

http://nbc17.feedroom.com/iframeset.jsp?ord=581053

Apparently, this zoo in Japan wants to be ready should an animal ever escape. After watching the drill it's clear that their zoo staff is top notch.

It made me laugh. A lot.

What you probably didn’t know...

1) When trying to decide on my name my Mother really loved the name Ellen, but my Dad said that Ellen Alsup had too many l’s. They also really liked the name Jennifer and were pretty set on it until the doctor told them that everyone in Houston was naming their daughters Jennifer. So they went with Sara and liked how Elizabeth sounded with it.

2) I actually do answer to the name Elizabeth because that’s what my Dad has always called me.

3) I have a little scar under my chin from when I slipped on the blacktop while playing ring-around-the-rosy. I had to have stitches. When we got to the doctor’s office the nurse/receptionist person said that I sure must have hurt the pavement when I fell. I still think this is a rather stupid statement and not really what any child wants to hear.

4) I’ve wanted to be a writer since Mrs. Brumet’s second-grade class. I decided that if reading were so much fun then writing would have to be even better. My poem, “Tea with the Dragons,” was published in the second-grade anthology. I illustrated it myself. Copies available upon request.

5) About the time I was in middle-school, I decided that writing was too personal a medium and so I focused on music.

6) The first chapter book I read was, “The Boxcar Children.” I can remember laying on our tan and brown couch in our house in Houston and being almost too excited to open the book. I felt incredibly accomplished when I was done.

7) In second-grade, Gaston called me monkey-face. I am still a little ticked off about this. And I hate the name Gaston.

8) In about fourth grade I got really mad at my parents for something (probably for asking me to do my chores) and told them, “Fine. I’ll be my own woman when I’m 18 and then I can do what I want.” (This was because I had learned that the government considers you an adult with rights at 18) The morning of my 18th birthday, when my Mom heard me coming down the stairs, she put the song “I am Woman hear me Roar, in numbers to big to be ignored,” on the stereo and then cooked me breakfast. It’s one of my best mornings.

9) For most of my childhood I was extremely allergic to cats. If I got anywhere near a cat my nose would start to run, I would start to itch and my eyes would swell up. I still get nervous around cats.

This is the most excited I've ever been about an article in the Missourian:

http://www.digmo.com/news/story.php?ID=11981

Honestly Ridiculous

This morning I woke up and hated everything in my closet. Not a single thing to wear. None of it.

I spent around 30 minutes trying on clothes, different tops with different pants, occasionally perusing my shoe options only to end up in the same sweater I started off in, albeit, with a different pair of jeans.

When I wore a uniform to school, this never happened. I had two choices of shirts, one skirt, two pants. Aside from the fact that I can never learned to coordinate anything that wasn't white, blue, khaki or gray plaid, I've gotta say that the uniforms were much easier.

Ridiculous.

Okay, well. I lied. There was one thing in my closet that I wanted to wear. My lovely summer dress with a lovely summer sandal. (The green dress with a robin-egg blue floral print and lining. It's sleeveless, with a high waist. And looks like it came straight from the 1950s...oh it just makes my heart flutter. Ooo, and if I could just find a delicate blue shoe, I would simply be the cat's meow.) But I just didn't think that would be pratical. I did, at least, resist the urge to try it on. Perhaps this afternoon...

I think I will wear my Methodist coat to make up for this morning's wardrobe woes.

House Cleaning, an introspective, journal type entry:

It seems like I’m always leaving Texas…I hope that someday I’ll be back here for more than a few weeks or months at a time. But before I come back to Columbia there are some thoughts I need to clean out, just so I can have a fresh start there.

London was one of the best decisions I have ever made. I’ll be honest, in a lot of ways I went to London because I needed to be out of Columbia for awhile. And it’s only been with in the past 3 months that I’ve really been ready to come back. That being said, I’m excited to see the people I’ve been missing and to be starting with a nearly clean slate.

FARC is really the only home I’ve ever known in Columbia. I didn’t live in FARC my freshman year – but there was one night in winter. I came out of Loeb Hall after a band rehearsal. It was cold, crisp and getting late. As I walked past the front doors and windows of FARC, I could see that the lobby was darkened and Jim Widner and his combo were playing to a packed house. I could hear the music and I stood in the cold and listened. To see one of the biggest musical influences in my life, playing to a group of people my age…the smile on the band’s faces, looking at everyone gathered... I stood there for a long time, wishing that I could be walking into McDavid and calling it home. I was so jealous, and I just stood there, feeling like that’s where I should have been. Eventually I walked on back to 528 Hudson Hall, but I didn’t leave easily.

I got so lucky…I didn’t want to teach a FIG, I wanted to be a CA over in Johnston. But I landed in FARC…exactly where I belonged. For two years, one of the best feelings I had was coming down the hill from the quad, seeing McDavid and knowing I was coming home.

FARC is different now, of course, and in a good way, I’m sure. Because it belongs now to different people, who are creating and living and sharing themselves and investing in a community. Because more than the community goals or the building, it is the people who make it an amazing place to live.

Some of the most important relationships in my life are ones that started in the hallways of McDavid.

Tennyson wrote, “I am a part of all that I have met.” So, I like to believe that my experience in FARC is as much a part of the building as it is a part of me.

Timely Thoughts, or two seemingly unrelated themes united by brief refrences to the Underground.

Thought 1)
It is the end of another year and I am astounded by how much distance I have covered.

How do we ever manage to find the people we make our lives with – we get a leg up with our family, because if we’re lucky we don’t have to find them. But all the other people – the people who go bowling with us, the ones who cook us mac’n’cheese after a few drinks, the one’s who know any number of inane facts about us and who love us all the same – how do we ever, ever find them. How is that you can wake up suddenly and someone who is on the periphery of your life is suddenly one of the most important people in your world, while someone you pinned some dreams to is gone without a word, leaving only some questions? And how is it that some people are supposed to be in our lives forever and others only for as long as a trip on the subway? Why is it that sometimes the people we thought were forever end up getting off at the next stop?

We fold people into our lives, we take them with us and vice versa. And somehow it all works out. All of the folding and traveling and distance and storms and we change with each other, and sometimes we part ways, but if we are lucky we move forward. It is such a gift.

Thought 2)
It is the end of another year and time is a funny, funny thing. See – we tend to think of time as a constant natural law – like gravity, but its not. When you look at the stars you’re seeing light that started traveling towards the earth years ago. That same star you’re looking at could have died ages ago – the news just hasn’t reached us yet.

Maybe time is just a way of trying to make sense of the way life changes. I’m not the same person I was a year ago – but it wasn’t time that changed me. Life happens without a calendar. Go out and shake the world without getting hung up on time.

(I think it was Jim Elliot that wrote, “Wherever you are, be all there.” I get so wrapped up in thinking about what comes next that I miss the moment I’m in. And I really believe that every moment is valuable – the subway is an excellent place to learn this.)

And even though time isn’t a constant – we can’t go back and we can’t change it. There are no do-overs.

What do you want? Because whatever it is, it is not going to knock on your door and ask if you are ready. Does life happen to you, or do you happen to life? What have you got to lose? Go out and shake the world.

So tonight marks another year. “Good luck, exploring the infinite abyss.”

Just when it feels like my feet are finally starting to know their way around this city, I find that it's nearly time for me to head back home. I'm excited about that, but I know I want more time in this city - in this country. Who knows, maybe I'll read law at Oxford and join the inns of court?

So here's my A to Zed of London - or at least how I perceive it tonight.

A: Allsop or Alsop - which is how my name is always misspelled over here. The second "L" I've seen before, but the "O" is a new variation. Allsop is also the name of a very successful real estate company over here.

B: Barbican - the crazy, industrial chic part of London that I work in. It landed itself on a list of "Ugliest Areas in London" earlier this year. But it's not bad.

C: Colin Firth. Who Jo and I happened to run into at Leicester Square at the same time we saw Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgewick. We're not a crazy celebrity stalkers, we just wanted to buy tickets to a musical and the London Film Festival just happened to be going on right across from the ticket booth.

D: Dancing at the Mean Fiddler up near Tottenham Court Road. Dance Contest. Strobe lights. London hipsters. The Clash's "London Calling" on the stereo.

E: E-mails with Blythe, Tim and Jo in the downtimes at our internships. These people are some of the smartest, funniest, insightful and passionate people I know. From discussing the presidential election and press coverage to learning fun facts from world fact books - these kids make me smile everyday.

F: Foyles book store - one of the best finds.

G: Great Ormond Street Hospital - did you know that the royalties from the sales of J.M. Barrie's "Peter Pan" go to this children's hospital. Go buy a copy - now!

H: Hogarth Road - with it's hotels, flats, Asian grocery stores and some good take-away places. Home.

I: Internship at the Methodist Recorder. Which has had it's ups and downs, but have made me more sure than ever about what I aspire to be as a journalist.

J: Jam - Blythe and Jo know what I'm talking about. Jam the bane of my existence.

K: King's Cross Station and the night we tried to see the Decemberists, but it was sold out so we walked down to the Thames and found a crazy bowling alley.

L: Lectures - lots of class lectures. The worst one was the one about Prehistoric England. Also the Laundrette - with it's slightly mean attendants.

M: Millenium Bridge - which I must say, is one of my favorite spots in London. St Paul's Cathedral on one side, the Tate Modern and Globe on the other and a really pretty bridge.

N: Notting Hill - well really the pub in Notting Hill that also has live jazz every Sunday afternoon. Also - George Orwell use to live there.

O: Oxford - the college town where I ate at the Eagle and Childe (where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien hung out) and Oxford Street - as in I'm going to go look at stuff I can't buy on Oxford Street.

P: Seeing "The Producers" in its first London run. Also seeing Nathan Lane reprise his starring role on Broadway as Max Bialystock after Richard Dreyfuss pansied out.

Q: Professor Quirell from the first Harry Potter book. The president of the Methodist Conference looks like Quirrell in the movie - it's freaky.

R: The Russian restaurant near Harrod's - Borscht and Tears, baby. Complete with live Russian music - even songs about freezing to death.

S: St. Bride's Church on Fleet Street. The church that is historically associated with journalists. I will say that one of my best memories from London will come from this church.

T: Trafalgar Square by night - I think this could be my favorite sight in London.

U: The Underground is a warm and happy place, like a womb.

V: Victoria and Albert. Victorian architecture. Statues of Queen Victoria everywhere.

W: Wesley. John Wesley. Founder of Methodism - whom I feel a lot closer too after my sojourn at the Methodist Recorder. We ran a full length column the other day dealing entirely with the subject of whether he was a vegetarian - whether or not an old, dead guy was a vegitarian. Hard hitting news, folks, hard hitting.

X: "Xenophobia" as in I have seen the word "xenophobia" in newspapers over here way more than I ever have in the states.

Y: Young directors giving lectures on the Globe theatre. Young directors with dark hair and eyes. Dreamy young directors. Nuff said.

Z: Zed - as in no one says "Z" here, it's always zed.

Edinburgh

Can I say I love art? Cause I do.

Saw "Three Tahitians" by Paul Gaugain today - part of one of my favorite group of paintings ever. I just about had a fit - okay - I did have a fit when I saw it. The colours. The warmth. The fact that one of the figures has their back turned. Goodness - it's good.

Low key weekends are also fantastic. As are happybooks.

Train rides. Rugged hikes. Clean hostels. Good food. Pints. Beautiful cities. The ocean. Bagpipes. All things that are rocking my socks off.

What a blessing this entire time has been!!

Next weekend - Paris. Quite Shortly... The World!!!!

Estoy aqui.

I am in Madrid. I am leaving on Friday and I am already thinking about how to get back here.

My Spanish isn´t great, but being able to communicate with people is thrilling.

Yesterday, an old Spainard and I talked about bullfights. Mostly he talked and I listened. But I understood and that is a gift beyond words.

I'm off to Spain tomorrow for the mid-term break.

Those of you reading this should know that I am excited out of my mind. But in case you didn't - I'm excited out of my mind.

Sun. Spanish. Good Food. Good Company. Really - do you need anything else in life. No. I'm so glad you agree.

Rather than be the girl who never updates, here you go...

Post-o-Wonders 0r random meanderings through my mind:

1) I saw an American company perform "Death of a Salesman" - it was. It was. I've made my peace with it since the last time I threw myself into it.

2) I bought some colored pencils. And a little green journal with blank pages. Sometimes in the evening I write and then doodle in the margins with colored pencils.

3) I've decided I should be the boss - eventually.

4) I've also come to other conclusions. You know that moment when you realize that you've been going in a completely opposite direction than you ought. That's a good moment. I had it the other day and I danced.

5) My mom sent me some pictures - three of which were all taken on the same day - and that day is one of my best days of my entire life. Looking at the pictures is almost like being there again. So thanks to Mel, John Doe, Sam and Jon for now appearing in pictures on my wall (P.S. Jenny - you would be there too, but you left before we got the camera out)

6) My parents make me really happy.

7) I saw the ocean yesterday. I smelled the ocean yesterday. That was the best part of yesterday.

8) Old church ladies are the same everywhere - from Dallas to Dublin, they all encourage you to "join them after service for coffee and biscuits." Coffee in the crypt of ChristChurch Cathedral, no less.

9) It's a bad moment when you think "Alright tasty veggies - who wants to come home with me," in the grocery store. It's worse if you say it out loud.

10) I should find some coffee. And a cake. And that should happen...now.

I get off at the Barbican stop, walk past Nagshead Court and up Golden lane to my office. It's an a quieter part of the city, out east of everything. My office has a baby blue door and green carpeting. When 3.00 rolls around it's tea time - milk and sugar please. And occasionally there are chocolate biscuits. There is also quiet - the Methodist Recorder doesn't have the same frenzy as a daily paper.

Last week I saw Hamlet performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company - from the time the first person came on stage till Horatio's "Good night sweet prince, and angels sing thee to thy rest," I had tears in my eyes. To see it staged, see the intricacies of the plot - Hamlet's transformation from grieving son to young leader, Ophelia's descent to madness, Queen Gertrude's repentance, the King's villiany and Horatio's truest friendship. It was like hearing music for the first time - that same wonder and astonishment.

I know that the four months I'm planning to spend here will be far too short.

But London's not going anywhere - right?

You can take the girl out of Texas, but she's quite keen on London...Besides, I did happen to find a place that flies the Texas flag here, so I figure I'm in a good place.

I am mostly recovered from jet lag. Air India's customer service philosophy is "the customer is god." If I were god though, why would I be flying on an airplane? Clearly a question to think through.

London...

It is dense and wonderful. It truly is a city that moves and lives and has a life all it's own. It feels comfortable.

Notably today, me and some lovely companions rode on the London Eye - the large ferris wheel. The LARGEST ferris wheel in all the world.

At first I was a bit apprehensive, as I don't fancy heights and have never been on a ferris wheel.

But it was beyond amazing to sit on top of London, looking from St. Paul's dome to Big Ben and the Houses of Parliment. To see it sprawl below.

I live here. And at night, I can feel the tube (subway) train as it rumbles on the tracks beneath my kitchen window. In the morning I turn back the curtain and see the hotel with it's hanging flower baskets across the street, and see parents walking their children to school. And I am home.

Today I am going to London.

But it was a summer - everything that a summer should be. Everything that I needed.

I saw elephants in a cornfield. And I caught fireflies. There is a difference between existing and living of which elephants and fireflies are only a small part.

There were fried green tomatoes, Texas thunderstorms, and the cool sanctuary of a familiar church. There was a family that is amazing and strong and beautiful. Home.

And there was life. There was life waiting to be had. It doesn’t always wait – but this time it did, fortunately.

That was my summer. Full of quiet and whispered realizations about what’s important and what falls away. If I had talked any louder the quiet would have fled in an incalculable loss.

Today I am going to London. But I’ll be thinking about elephants and fireflies. And home.

So I’m off then. But, I’ll be back soon enough – “Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.” I’ll be back soon enough.

What I take with me

My brother told me to always remember that there is someone out there who wants it more than you, will work harder than you, will fight harder than you.

My Dad told me never to look a gift horse in the mouth. And he taught me how to sing, “This is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it.”

And my Mom told me not to let my ears start itching. (This is not in regard to bathing habits.)

That’s the most valuable advice I’ve gotten in my life and I carry it very close to my heart.

Sleeping with Prufrock

Life twists in unexpected ways so I feel as though my feet are already off the ground with one week left here in familiarity growing increasingly unintelligible.

One week till...London, four months till...home, less than that till...the rest of my life.

"And time yet for a hundred indecisions/ and for a hundred visions and revisions/ before the taking of toast and tea." The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot

Where are those damnable mermaids and will they ever sing for me?