It’s a funny place to start from, really…a Beginning. It’s almost as if one needs to shed skins and begin from scratch. Life is different now, as is she and this is disconcerting. It begs the question: so what happened to the old Maria? Did she just dump her in her overzealous quest to start over and trade her in for ‘Maria’ ala Espaneol. Or is she just waiting to see where the other one fits in?
Then again, that one was never much good at ‘fitting in’.
That is the problem with beginnings, they presume that nothing ever existed prior to the present precipice and it is hard to put pictures to things she can hardly remember or re-construct in her head or heart anymore. Perhaps this is the reason why she has found it so hard to venture out of her self-imposed sabbatical. Writing about oneself must be a much harder exercise when one is supremely conscious of the fact that they cannot recognise a thing about themselves.
Oxford, in a nutshell is a bashful beginning, but a beginning nonetheless.
She might recognise the purely tourist-ical overtones of the following notion, but there really is ‘something’ about this city that has the ability to make her seem bigger than she is, even to herself. On one hand this may prove to be counter-intuitive, as she was pretty much everything to herself from the get go, alone and all too comfortable with her alone-ness. But it is doing wonders for her self esteem. Her face shimmers every time a random check-out counter clerk, asks if she is a student and she can claim a discount and a smile from a complete stranger all in one nod.
Somewhere over the past month she has learned to get over her fear of counters and the people behind them… she is by no means confident, but she can ask an actual question now without hyper-ventilating or subsequently melting. She has also learned that washing one’s clothes takes less time than drying them, even though both exercises are mechanically accomplished. Above all she has learned that somehow paying for a crate of coke in pounds makes it taste like an elixir… an unbidden luxury, a taste of the familiar, of home, of past, present and future. Coca Cola, remains her only constant somehow bridging all her September ‘Me’s’ to the ‘I’s’ of her October.
Its rather amusing how one day on a plane can reverse the social order of an entire being.
This month has taught her a few things that she probably didn’t know about Maria.
Maria enjoys sitting in crowds and getting lost, specifically the steps on the mural in City centre. All it takes to completely fade into the architecture is a cup of coffee, a sketchbook and charcoal and Dylan crooning in the Basement Tapes through her head phones.
Maria cannot survive without scarves and woollen caps.
Maria adores riding a bicycle in the morning, periodically locking and unlocking it to various posts around the city and waiting to see it waiting for her, it is currently her only companion constant.
Maria inherently disapproves of beer being the staple British social conduit.
Maria still thinks that libraries are magical and she hasn’t managed to tire of them, despite taking up temporary residence in the Bodelian.
Maria still collects key chains. They are now the only thing she can afford, asides from Primark half-off’s -which is not something to boast about- she is told.
Maria is capable of making friends, she even tries to. She also appears to enjoy company for longer than 2 hours if need be. This is supremely surprising.
Maria can dance, she is taking salsa lessons and has not tripped all over herself despite her devastatingly attractive, and proportionally homosexual instructor.
Maria is trying very hard to feel like a feminist without acting like one.
Maria enjoys studying, her long walks and her even longer procrastinating pauses over bridges, at street corners, on random benches and in museums.
Maria no longer feels lost. Ironic, considering her rapidly flailing sense of direction and the fact that ‘getting lost’ is an exercise she is pedalling to a martial art.
Maria no longer feels ugly, or stupid. This is particularly pressing, considering she is in a city where almost everyone is smarter than she is.
Maria is learning to appreciate the true value of a hot shower and comfortable shoes completely lacking in any aesthetic appeal.
Maria loves the theatre and the Ballet. Apparently she does not mind grown men dancing in tights half as much as most grown men do.
Maria is learning to appreciate the occasional cup of a Mocha Latte on a cold day. She is also beginning to appreciate the fact that cookies can easily constitute a basic food group when basic food groups no longer retain -what ought to be - their inherent personality: flavour.
Maria has taken to collecting socks and writing long letters to people in her head rather than on paper.
Maria still appreciates the majesty of freshly sharpened pencils, blank pages and funny hats.
Maria still loves the rain, she has even learned to appreciate umbrella’s.
Maria is not missing the other one… too much.
She is still silly, sentimental, hopelessly hopeful and hoping to accidentally fall into a random handsome stranger’s unsuspecting arms. She still misses new cartoon releases and she is desperately searching for pizza that actually tastes like pizza in this city.
All in all, I am beginning to think that she might be worth getting to know better.
Then again, that one was never much good at ‘fitting in’.
That is the problem with beginnings, they presume that nothing ever existed prior to the present precipice and it is hard to put pictures to things she can hardly remember or re-construct in her head or heart anymore. Perhaps this is the reason why she has found it so hard to venture out of her self-imposed sabbatical. Writing about oneself must be a much harder exercise when one is supremely conscious of the fact that they cannot recognise a thing about themselves.
Oxford, in a nutshell is a bashful beginning, but a beginning nonetheless.
She might recognise the purely tourist-ical overtones of the following notion, but there really is ‘something’ about this city that has the ability to make her seem bigger than she is, even to herself. On one hand this may prove to be counter-intuitive, as she was pretty much everything to herself from the get go, alone and all too comfortable with her alone-ness. But it is doing wonders for her self esteem. Her face shimmers every time a random check-out counter clerk, asks if she is a student and she can claim a discount and a smile from a complete stranger all in one nod.
Somewhere over the past month she has learned to get over her fear of counters and the people behind them… she is by no means confident, but she can ask an actual question now without hyper-ventilating or subsequently melting. She has also learned that washing one’s clothes takes less time than drying them, even though both exercises are mechanically accomplished. Above all she has learned that somehow paying for a crate of coke in pounds makes it taste like an elixir… an unbidden luxury, a taste of the familiar, of home, of past, present and future. Coca Cola, remains her only constant somehow bridging all her September ‘Me’s’ to the ‘I’s’ of her October.
Its rather amusing how one day on a plane can reverse the social order of an entire being.
This month has taught her a few things that she probably didn’t know about Maria.
Maria enjoys sitting in crowds and getting lost, specifically the steps on the mural in City centre. All it takes to completely fade into the architecture is a cup of coffee, a sketchbook and charcoal and Dylan crooning in the Basement Tapes through her head phones.
Maria cannot survive without scarves and woollen caps.
Maria adores riding a bicycle in the morning, periodically locking and unlocking it to various posts around the city and waiting to see it waiting for her, it is currently her only companion constant.
Maria inherently disapproves of beer being the staple British social conduit.
Maria still thinks that libraries are magical and she hasn’t managed to tire of them, despite taking up temporary residence in the Bodelian.
Maria still collects key chains. They are now the only thing she can afford, asides from Primark half-off’s -which is not something to boast about- she is told.
Maria is capable of making friends, she even tries to. She also appears to enjoy company for longer than 2 hours if need be. This is supremely surprising.
Maria can dance, she is taking salsa lessons and has not tripped all over herself despite her devastatingly attractive, and proportionally homosexual instructor.
Maria is trying very hard to feel like a feminist without acting like one.
Maria enjoys studying, her long walks and her even longer procrastinating pauses over bridges, at street corners, on random benches and in museums.
Maria no longer feels lost. Ironic, considering her rapidly flailing sense of direction and the fact that ‘getting lost’ is an exercise she is pedalling to a martial art.
Maria no longer feels ugly, or stupid. This is particularly pressing, considering she is in a city where almost everyone is smarter than she is.
Maria is learning to appreciate the true value of a hot shower and comfortable shoes completely lacking in any aesthetic appeal.
Maria loves the theatre and the Ballet. Apparently she does not mind grown men dancing in tights half as much as most grown men do.
Maria is learning to appreciate the occasional cup of a Mocha Latte on a cold day. She is also beginning to appreciate the fact that cookies can easily constitute a basic food group when basic food groups no longer retain -what ought to be - their inherent personality: flavour.
Maria has taken to collecting socks and writing long letters to people in her head rather than on paper.
Maria still appreciates the majesty of freshly sharpened pencils, blank pages and funny hats.
Maria still loves the rain, she has even learned to appreciate umbrella’s.
Maria is not missing the other one… too much.
She is still silly, sentimental, hopelessly hopeful and hoping to accidentally fall into a random handsome stranger’s unsuspecting arms. She still misses new cartoon releases and she is desperately searching for pizza that actually tastes like pizza in this city.
All in all, I am beginning to think that she might be worth getting to know better.
