Hello. Welcome to my website. It started while I was in Europe for a semester, and I've kept it up since then. I'm now at the University of Chicago Law School, living in Hyde Park, and the story continues. If you want to say hi or visit me, email cfloyd at uchicago dot edu.
"Life is nothing if not the sum of your anecdotes." -Scotty The Body, on storytelling "But it ain't that bad, man. Just figure out the system before the system figures out you." -T. Matthew Smith, on the 1L year "The beer just doesn't taste as good when you're not drinking it with your buddies." -Anon., on being away from good friends "Somebody has to pay the rent around here. Why the hell not us?" -Cotton, on studying for exams
4/21/2003
Today I went back to York. The Easter service there was wonderful. Unfortunately I had forgotten my camera Sunday and I never saw a lot of the town, so today I went back. My day started with an English breakfast sandwich. Innocent sounding enough, but the grease on it shortened my life by two years, guaranteed. I took the train to York and took the York Brewery tour, which was actually quite small. But the brewery also contained a pub so I sat, had two award-winning pints, and talked with the brewery employees and some folks from Belfast. One of the Irish guys knew of the Tulsa Roughnecks! Apparently his cousin played for the Irish National team and had been picked up in the States before the league folded, but he still lives in Tulsa. I didn't catch his name.
After the brewery tour I went to the old city center where they have a large open-air market set up everyday. I looked around at their wares and bought a greasy hamburger (took another year off). Then I walked about a mile on top of the city walls, which, unlike those of many other cities, have been preserved. There was a bookstore called W, in which I bought Hemingway's "A Moveable Feast," in response to the numerous recommendations I've received for that particular work. The hamburger wasn't sitting well--damn English beef--so I took some time out on a bench in the York Minster courtyard to read the first two chapters, listen to the cathedral bells, and watch children play. Then I walked around some more and caught the train back to Leeds. Tonight we went back to the Fox and the Newt (the local pub I referenced last time) for their open-mic night. The music quality was very good. It reminded me of playing Monday nights at Brother's in Norman. A group of guys played "Sweet Home Chicago," and I got up on the harmonica to jam. They insisted I stay for some Dylan--"I Shall be Released." And that was my day.
Tomorrow I'm heading to Dover to catch the ferry to Calais. From Calais I will go to Paris, where Jessica Martin has promised to show me the town. Somebody told me Paris was the most beautiful city in the world. Other people told me they couldn't stand the French. I am thus far neutral, but I will ruminate on my Parisian experience for you all shortly. And I will review "A Moveable Feast."
Until then...
