I Fell Off My Bike

And I didn't just stumble a little or wobble – I wiped out, bit it hard core, crashed suddenly in slow motion on the sidewalk (aka "pavement" in English talk) on a busy and main road called Cowley, which is full of experienced cyclists that were passing me up and speeding to work or school as if they had been born riding a bicycle in city traffic.

I don't know which part was more embarrassing... The fact I learned to ride a bike at age 5 and have been hopping curbs probably since age 7 but somehow missed this one completely and toppled... The fact my basket and book bag went soaring as I went crashing, leaving me, my bike, my basket and book bag spread out over different parts of the pavement... The fact I had only owned the bike for about 8 hours... Or the fact two kids across the street waiting for their bus immediately started yelling things I at first couldn't hear being preoccupied with getting over my pride, but, once I had collected myself and my things, their voices came into focus and I realized they had been chanting, "You fell off your bi-ike! You fell off your bi-ike" over and over to the tune of "na na na na boo boo."

The kids weren't pure evil. They did ask me if I was hurt as I rode away, and even though I was, I was not about to admit it to them. I actually appreciated their acknowledgment of my spill. I felt less awkward with their laughing at me than I did with the silent stares from others passing by.

I would like to blame my unstable front basket or my heavy book bag or the bike's rusty brakes (this bike has definitely seen better days), but my sense of balance is the ultimate culprit, and I've accepted that and am now strictly riding with an empty basket until I improve my city-riding skills.

For some reason I thought my experience riding on the ACU campus had prepared me enough to ride around the city of Oxford. Let's just say I've proved myself wrong and it wasn't the first time since being here and won't be the last. I must expect the unexpected and rid myself of preconceived notions (like cycling capabilities). My falling off the bike is simply a foreshadowing of more stumbling to come as I learn about a new culture, causing mentally enlightening bumps and bruises. I just hope they hurt less than ones on my left knee.

English Lessons

I've always wanted an excuse to blog. While I struggled with the idea of publicly processing my day or overconfidently assuming innocent internet browsers would care enough to actually read a sentence or two, I secretly believed my life was interesting enough to write about. Maybe not novel-worthy, maybe not newspaper-article-worthy and maybe not even reality-T.V.-show worthy but at least blog-worthy, right?

"Right," I decided, and so I began this blog.

My blog-worthy reasons:

I just moved from the United States to England to attend graduate school and, hopefully, receive a master's in English.


I also just graduated from college and with my very own blog my friends can know what I'm up to at all times.

Several of my friends have recently started their own blogs, and I don't want to feel left out.

I have two people so far who have promised faithful readership - thanks mom and dad.


Now to explain the title of this blog... "English Lessons" refers to two things:

1. what I am studying at school - the literature type of English
2. what I am learing from the English people around me as I spend time immersed in their culture

Just one example of #2 that has happened already (I can practically hear the future snickers those last words will produce.): I ordered cream for my coffee at a local coffee/ice cream shop, and after giving me a puzzled look, the cashier reached for a giant bottle of whipped cream used for topping on sundeas and squirted a tower of it on top of my daily blend.

Note to self: ORDER CREAM WITH COFFEE. It's way better that half-and-half...