<< :
2003-09-08 @ Midnight : >>
To Get To The Point Here...
OK so I've been going on and on and on and I still haven't given you a proper explanation of anything. Who the hell am I anyway, aside from the superficial babble about my fondness for tequila and bad soap operas?
Oh yikes! - where to begin? You see now what I mean about the "all the bits that came before" problem?
My name is Miranda. My mother is a fan of Shakespheare and always knew I was going to be either Miranda, Rosalind or Juliet.
I hated my name when I was very little because I couldn't pronounce it. Until I was three or so, no matter how hard I tried it kept coming out as "Ramanda."
I like it now though. It is unusual without being way-out-there.
And yes I really am 21. Even though I joke that I may not look or act it. Which I don't. Truly. People tell me I could pass for 12.
I grew up in London with two parents and a brother, Peter, who is two years younger than I and now at Oxford.
When I was 18 I took a gap year. That's a year out between school and university. It's a fairly common thing to do in England. Remember how Prince William went off to.. to... oh gosh, I can't remember quite where but somewhere poor and underprivileged where he had to scrub toilets. That was a gap year.
Most people go back-packing or do some organized trek-through-the-rainforest or volunteer-in-a-Romanian-orphanage type thing. Being me, I just had to be different and so decided to go work as a nanny in a New England town.
I had never met anyone who had done that before. Neither had anyone else I knew met anyone who had done it. A lot of people tried to tell me it was a bad idea. They were wrong. I had a great time. At the end of the year I didn't want to leave.
And now I am back. For another year.
Things are very different this time around though. I am studying at a very small, very intense liberal arts' college in the West. I live in a dorm, on a campus, which I have never done before.
And this is the diary of that adventure. (Or that experience anyway).
To Get To The Point Here...
OK so I've been going on and on and on and I still haven't given you a proper explanation of anything. Who the hell am I anyway, aside from the superficial babble about my fondness for tequila and bad soap operas?
Oh yikes! - where to begin? You see now what I mean about the "all the bits that came before" problem?
My name is Miranda. My mother is a fan of Shakespheare and always knew I was going to be either Miranda, Rosalind or Juliet.
I hated my name when I was very little because I couldn't pronounce it. Until I was three or so, no matter how hard I tried it kept coming out as "Ramanda."
I like it now though. It is unusual without being way-out-there.
And yes I really am 21. Even though I joke that I may not look or act it. Which I don't. Truly. People tell me I could pass for 12.
I grew up in London with two parents and a brother, Peter, who is two years younger than I and now at Oxford.
When I was 18 I took a gap year. That's a year out between school and university. It's a fairly common thing to do in England. Remember how Prince William went off to.. to... oh gosh, I can't remember quite where but somewhere poor and underprivileged where he had to scrub toilets. That was a gap year.
Most people go back-packing or do some organized trek-through-the-rainforest or volunteer-in-a-Romanian-orphanage type thing. Being me, I just had to be different and so decided to go work as a nanny in a New England town.
I had never met anyone who had done that before. Neither had anyone else I knew met anyone who had done it. A lot of people tried to tell me it was a bad idea. They were wrong. I had a great time. At the end of the year I didn't want to leave.
And now I am back. For another year.
Things are very different this time around though. I am studying at a very small, very intense liberal arts' college in the West. I live in a dorm, on a campus, which I have never done before.
And this is the diary of that adventure. (Or that experience anyway).