Darling, Dearest.

Summer, Summer Time

I’m finally free from any and all things educational (at least until August), so I’ve actually had the time to catch up on uploading photos from the past couple of weeks. Sorry, but it’s going to be a long one.

Evolution Festival was a couple of weekends ago, but I had to cut my stay in Newcastle short because I had an exam the next afternoon. I really would’ve liked to have seen The Horrors and De La Soul perform, but such is life; at least I’m through with Jacobean Drama.

I’ve spent so much time in the Doncaster train station that it’s starting to feel like a second home.

What was supposed to be a house party turned into a barbeque due to something resembling summer weather. England hasn’t really taken to the sun yet. Oh yeah, and that’s Ayda, one of my closest friends in Hull.

Arnaud (France), Antoine (France), Sarah (Germany), Some kid I don’t know, Ayda (France), Tom (China), Me

The next day was Hull University’s End of Year Ball, and this is the group of lovely ladies that I went with…

…as well as these dapper gentlemen.

The Ball was quite a classy affair, but carnival rides (bumper cars, too!), casinos, and too many bars to count kept it age appropriate.

A toothless gypsy/carnie helped you on this ride, and then you had a single chain locked around your waist to strap you in. I was more than a little nervous, and all I have to say is thank God for gravity.

We tried to put £5 on red, but then realized that it was a free casino. Duh.

A couple of other bands played, but Ben and I only caught Biffy Clyro. Four guys trying to prove that they’re really not all that radio friendly made for a LOT of noise, but it was overall a pretty decent performance.

A bunch of friends and I said bon voyage to Asylum, the university’s nightclub, on Wednesday. Charlie has already gone back to France, but he was definitely my favorite housemate. He left me his dishes to use after he left, but I’m pretty sure the cleaning lady knows an opportunity when she sees one, because there are two plates left in my kitchen as of this morning.

Just in case you’ve never seen it, I’m a dork and dance with my hands.

Amsterdam

A couple of weeks ago my friend Sarah and I ventured to Amsterdam for the weekend. The poor weather and our difficulty to calibrate our inner compasses kept us from seeing half of the places on our wishlists, but the city couldn’t disappoint even if it had tried.

We took a ferry (ie. cruise ship) from Hull to Rotterdam, and then were forced to wake up at stupid o’clock to take a coach from Rotterdam into Amsterdam.

The first thing we saw once we got off of the bus was a two-story parking structure…strictly for bicycles.

After wandering around for awhile, we got lunch at a family-owned bar. Homemade vegetable soup, a bottle of Coke, and a table suited for a midget like me definitely put us in high spirits.

After lunch we ventured into the Red Light District and witnessed it’s not so tasteful embrace with sexual freedom, equality and whatever pursuit of happiness you may or may not be looking for on that particular day.

Oh, and we might’ve gone to The Hash, Marihuana and Hemp Museum in the meantime.

We decided to search for our hostel after going through the museum, but the city’s canal system makes all of the streets look the same. After about two hours of walking in circles we checked in and realized that we must have passed our hostel at least four times throughout the day.

We had half of the next day to explore the city, but I had to keep my camera buried in the depths of my purse in fear that it would fall pray to the mist that lingered throughout the afternoon. When trying to board the ferry later that night I, of course, was pegged as a drug-smuggling American by the Customs officials. Lessons learned: even I can be a subject of racial profiling; I need to learn how to read a map; I would love to live in Amsterdam.

You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere

All his kings
Supplied with sleep
We’ll climb that hill no matter how steep
When we get up to it

-Bob Dylan

Well, seeing as it’s 4:30 in the morning on a Monday and I can’t sleep, I suppose this one goes out to you Mom and Dad. I’m not sure whether to start out by saying how lucky I am to have parents that actually care, or how much I have missed you in the past three and-a-half weeks. I was forced to write 10,000 words using pen and paper, I made bone-chilling walks to the library three or four times a day and, worst of all, I had a lot of extra time to sit by myself and think. When my laptop crashed I was conflicted. On the one hand I could say a big ‘fuck you’ to technology, and was able to revel in sitting down and actually enjoying to write. But at what loss? I wasted a lot of time traveling between my room and the library, I didn’t have an outlet to relax, and I was robbed of American television, Facebook and having a decent conversation with my parents. Even though we fight, bitch and moan, I know that I will always be able to call you crying when the shit hits the fan. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again - Thank you. Not only for allowing me to have the most amazing experience a twenty year-old could ever imagine, but for loving me despite all of the grief I’ve put you through. We’ve said words that I never want to repeat to one another, and I apologize for every last nasty thing that has ever come out of my mouth. But despite always knowing that there are two people in this God-forsaken world that I can depend on, I have also realized that I can do this on my own. I know the universe has a fucked up sense of humor, but I also know that I have fought my way tooth and nail in order to be at the point that I am today. I will continue to grow up, but I will always need to call you to ask stupid questions about useless facts, or force you to edit my essays over the phone. Mom, you’ve always told me that I should be a writer, and I’m in the works of starting a screenplay. I don’t know where I’m going to wind up in five years, but I do know that my parents have instilled a work ethic, a quick wit and an understanding of how to cope with all of life’s sucker punches while still maintaining a healthy relationship. Now all that I can do is continue to wade through the daily grind, see the world and hope that one day I will have a daughter that loves and respects me as much I do the two of you. I love you both dearly and always will, even though I may forget it sometimes.

I got a job with a photography company Picture Yourself Hull as a club photographer. So far I have photographed a band called Kid British, and have taken photos of the students at two of the nightclub events. Although it was a bit stressful at first, I’m starting to get used to the atmosphere, and having to walk up to random groups of people and ask to take their picture. You’d be surprised at how difficult it is to use manual focus in such a dark room, and actually get your subjects in focus.

At work with two of the members of Kid British.

Some photos that I took of their set:

Day Trippin’

Last week my friend Ben invited me to tag along on day trip to Scarborough. Even though the invitation included the words “sports day,” I figured that I might as well just go and take some pictures.

The boys played football and rugby. Needless to say…I didn’t participate.

We went “rock-pooling.”

Ben told me to look like I was having the most fun I’ve ever had.

Ben found a starfish.

My first proper fish and chips from Winking Willie’s.

Miss you all,

Wendy x

It’s never dull in Hull.

Last week most of the International students went on a guided tour of Hull’s city centre. There were so many people on the tour, and only one tour guide, so I wasn’t able to catch most of what the buildings actually are, but they’re beautiful.

Outside Princes Quay Shopping Centre

There were a bunch of boys doing backflips and other tricks off of a statue outside of this church.

The ceiling of an indoor marketplace.

Ye Old White Harte dates back to the 14th century. In 1642, Sir John Hothham made the decision to bar King Charles I from the city of Kingston Upon Hull in the pub’s “Plotting Parlour,” thus triggering the English Civil War.

The Deep - “The World’s Only Submarium.

Just so you could see my beautiful face.

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