"What Gives Someone Value?"

The last week has been a whirlwind.


Admittedly, I don't really recall the weekend before this last one, but I know I stayed in and worked long hours in the library getting as much work as I could before my birthday weekend and Annie's arrival. It was a nice choice though, because Matt was in the same boat, and we had really nice conversations on our late-night walks back to Dawson Street and into the wee hours of the morning. I think I've found yet another great friend.

Sunday morning was my first rugby game, and woah. Let me tell ya,

Gurnsey was the team we played, and they were a club team, not a university team, so they were 30-40 years of age. The coaches prepared us before hand to "expect some bigger girls, but not to worry, because of all the fitness training we've been doin we would be bloody fahstah. Also, since they're so big, you'll get used to a soft tackle which is perfect for your first game, because it's cushy, landing on a faht person!"

They were wrong on so, so many levels.

Falsity # 1. These women were MASSIVE. And they were not strong, they were FAT.
Their mini vans pulled up to Marston (our rugby fields) and they all piled out in their Halloween "fancy dress" (here, that means costume) and my jaw hit the ground. Jessamy (our #3) was polite enough to click my mouth shut for me and then grab me as I went weak in the knees.

Falsity #2. We could not out run them, for they took up the ENTIRE LENGTH OF THE PITCH.
I was amazed at not only their size, but how much better these fat women covered the field compared to our, generally speaking, smaller squad. I was worried for Sagey (our fly half). Although, I'm sure her smack-talk would melt the calories off of this team if they heard her. Oh, wait... they did. (I'll leave the vulgarity out of this blogpost, for now.)

Falsity #3. We were never tackled. We were THROWN OUT OF THE WAY.
Yes. And, if you can believe it, this hurts way, way more. Crouch, touch, pause, engage, scrum scrum scrum scrum, OHP!, someone's got you round the shoulder--smack, cold, hard, ground. And a fat, cackling, old woman runs off, going to grab another team mate.

muddy and gross. (there, Annie, I now give you permission to put up disgusting pictures of me post-rugby)

Anyway,
Monday and Tuesday were tough. Lots of work to get done before my birthday, Thursday, which Danny, Matt and the Americans kept hinting at the awesomeness of. Also, I felt as if I may never move properly again after our game with Gurnsey. Monday night's practice consisted of blood, sweat, mud, and puke (sorry, guys, but it is the truth).

Tuesday was even more rough. I'll let you just assume why. Not to mention my Russian tutorial with Dr Crazy-Ass-Dog-Lady-Who-Lets-Her-Precious-"Cosmo"-Paw-At-My-Crotch-All-Lesson-And-Drool-On-My-Legs was just "ok." I mean, seriously, can I just have an A for putting up with that God forsaken bloody animal?! I even LOVE dogs, and I can't stand this creature.

Wednesday was a riot. OUWRFC (the girls' university rugby team) social. What does this consist of? Attempting to get Sage, Tats (the starting #8) and the coaches schwasted.

Here, drinking games are much more sophisticated. The team goes out to a nice, fancy restaurant in themed clothes. Our theme: NEON.

"Why, yes, we are the University of Oxford Women's Rugby Team, and... what's that? ... yes, you are correct, sir, I am wearing a highlighter yellow tu-tu. Did you come up with that all by yourself?"

Then, the scontzing begins.

Sage: "I SCONTZ ANYONE WHO IS OLDER THAN 30"
Al: "I SCONTZ ANYONE WHO LEFT THEIR NUMBER 10 OPEN TODAY IN THE GAME"
Tats: "I SCONTZ ANYONE WHO HAS A DAUGHTER"
Al: "I SCONTZ ANYONE WHO WILL BE HUNGOVER IN PRACTICE"
Team: "DRINK AL, DRINK!"

Scontzing is basically calling someone out on something. You get up, scontz them ("I scontz anyone reading this blog right now") and who ever is reading this blog (you.) would have to drink.

Then, after dinner, as a team (except for Al and Duggers), we head for some more team building skills at a four level club called Lava Ignite.

Kate, Beth, Jessie (a felow Teddy Hall-er!) me, Joannah, Sage, Tats

Thursday was pretty uneventful as far as the day goes. Slept in (I allowed myself to, it was my birthday!) and then had rugby super late at 6:45. I ate dinner with Jessie (other fly half), and then we cycled to practice. It was supposed to be just a drills day, so I was kind of happy, because Isabel let it leak that my friends were throwing me a surprise party at 9:30 and practice got out at 9, so I figured if the drills weren't too hard, I'd be off the hook for having to struggle with my hair too much post-shower.

Wrong.
(When will I ever learn that I will never be right about rugby?)

After drills, we did FITNESS. And it was AWESOME. (Anyone picking up the sarcasm? Anyone?)

Because in rugby, you do everything as a team, or in a line, we did all of our sprints hold hands. Why? you may ask.

1. because Al said so
2. because Al said so
3. because Al said so
4. "because you're only as fahst as your slowest player... and if your slowest player cared about her team, she'd work her arse off to go fahster!"

Then we did wheelbarrows, mountain climbers, jumping jacks, press ups, sit ups, squats, high skips, and piggy backs. ...I don't want to talk about piggy backs.


The birthday party was great though! So many people! I couldn't believe I had made so many friends in just the month and a half I'd been here. And they weren't even all Americans! Let's see, Milly, Isabel, Janosz, Nick, Kelsi, Penn, Talie, Lizzie, Sabrina, Danny, Patrick, Mike, Sam, Danny, Matt, J, Bjorn and two randoms from Mike's uni tennis team were there. It was good fun!

won't name them all here, picture's too small, but Danny and Sabrina came from LMH and Pembroke to celebrate!

my birthday cake! shaped like a rugby ball and full of refueling calories! made by Lizzie and Isabel :}

 We partied all night in Dawson and kept trying to go out to a club, because, according to Aaron, all I wanted to do last year at my surprise party at the frat house was dance, "I jus wanna dance you guys." But, alas, this year, we didn't make it to dancing either.

However, I DID make it to breakfast. That's right. Haha! Birthday girl got up at 7:40 and was eating toast, poached eggs and sausage 20 mins later. Take that, Sailor Jerry! Oh, wait, I win!

Later that day I picked up Ms. Hunter, and needles to say, we had a pretty bad ass but totally chill weekend. Friday night I took her to formal dinner with Fez and Sabrina (again, visiting from Pembroke--she's so good to me), where, if you follow her blog, you'll know Fez posed the question: What gives someone value? We still haven't come up with an answer, really... Fez says Jesus, I say some innate "human-ness," but, what do we know?

Then I took her to the college bar, and we hit Camera for a night out at the club. This has been my jams ever since:

Saturday, I woke up at 8 am and got my ass handed to me in rugby fitness. Concussion and hurt rotator cuff, all in a day's work.

Then Annie and I went for cream tea and off to the park grounds up past Dawson Street for some fireworks and bonfire night :) Basically, the Brits commemorate stopping the Catholic terrorist Guy Fawkes from blowing up Parliament way back when by lighting a huge, wicker statue of him, that looks nothing like him, on fire, and lighting off fireworks and sitting around the biggest bon fire I've ever seen, eating chips and drinking beer. This was only magnified in excellence by having one of my best friends there.

At the end of the weekend, when I watched the back of Annie make her way down High Street to the train station, I think I knew the answer to Fez's question.
And that made me feel better.