York: The Retrospective

And Other Anecdotes

The past two weeks has been waking up, rolling out of my childhood bed in Oklahoma, and meandering outside to let our dog out while taking a walk. Even though it’s only 9 am, it’s already a balmy 70F (21C) and sunny. Then, I get in a pickup truck to get coffee. I drive through a suburb that’s dead quiet, hardly anyone out on the sidewalks, until I get to the shop after a ten minute drive.

I think anyone that has moved out of the suburbs, then back to the suburbs, understands the odd whiplash that occurs from returning to an environment so recognizable yet so…lifeless in comparison. It’s a surreal feeling at least for the moment.

The Retrospective

At this time last year, I hopped off the York bus with two massive 50lb (24Kg) suitcases, stumbling into the information center sweaty and delirious to only find that my accommodation was on the other end of campus…. on the fourth floor….no elevator of course. It’s like that scene in Legally Blonde where Elle Woods arrives at Harvard, except instead of Reese Witherspoon it’s a shriveled sweaty little guy.

And I remember a lot about that first month! Even though the UK and the USA possess a ton of similarities, it’s still such an overwhelming thrill to navigate a new country and a new society. York itself was truly a classical idea of a town: a dense clump of buildings around 4 square miles, yet with so much going on and so many people about. Even though I technically lived right outside of York, my walk to my classes was my favorite part of the day. I never got sick of those views or of that environment.

Being from the Midwest, you’re sort of insulated from this aforementioned environment because one: the United States is allergic to designing good cities, and two: where I live simply doesn’t attract the kind of global attention that England does. So I don’t know how accessible this feeling is, but for me I get so much energy and vigor from meeting people from other places because it’s taken me so long to have these kinds of interactions. Even more so when I’m in that new place too. I remember my first pub (Rook and Gaskill), going to my first corner shop, going to Waitrose, navigating campus that first week, walking through York for the first time, visiting all the churches in the area. In this kind of context of living somewhere so new and so different, all of your senses are dialed to 11. It’s like you’re experiencing life again for the first time.

Grad School was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a learning experience for me…with many of those lessons being unexpected!

I’ve written about this already, but I expected Roman Archaeology coursework to be much more materialistic in its teaching. In archaeological work you come across typologies, soil types, special tools, and special software to work with specific contexts. Unfortunately, this was not the crux of the program, but it was much more directed to the basic and philosophical aspects (“Issues in Roman Archaeology, Roman Religion, Material Analysis, etc) there’s absolute validity to these classes and I’m not saying it was a waste, but I left not fully content or, in fact, not feeling all that much smarter than when I started out. Maybe that’s simply what academia is; the pace of learning is so slow maybe my own insecurity and imposter syndrome outrace any growth. Or maybe I am stupid! What a relieving plot twist that would be.

But in any case, I will (hopefully) graduate with a Masters. This, plus any positivity from what I wrote, will more than makeup for any slight curriculum grievances I have. So here’s to hoping I pass!!!

The best thing about York was, of course, the people. York is, somewhat surprisingly, fairly international. The school itself attracts a lot of international students so there were aspects to the town that were cosmopolitan. Living in the graduate dorms I also just came across a plethora of languages and peoples daily…another idiosyncrasy that just isn’t the case back home. And it was lovely!

There is something so validating about making friends from many different backgrounds, nationalities, and life experiences. Not to get overly weepy or sentimental about it, but there is such an affirming quality of humanity that when it really comes down to it, most social boundaries such as ethnicity and nationality are inconsequential to true community. It’s been such an affirming and lovely thing to see that my personality is tolerable to not only Americans, but to a few other countries too! What a blessing. I’ve made friends from England (duh), Wales, Scotland, India, Pakistan, China, Hungary, France, Italy, and Ireland. I’m beyond thankful for that. I’m of the belief that if you can live in a different place and meet different people, take that chance. This is one of those experiences that isn’t specific to a certain type of person, but rather a privilege that everyone should have the pleasure of doing.

Right now, I’m looking for a job and waiting to hear back on my dissertation. For one, I’m terrified because while I love what I wrote on, I turned it in a messy state. There’s also the added of anxiety of my constant thoughts of “ohgoddidItalkaboutarchaeologyenoughIdidn’tusealotofofficialterminologywhatif-” running through my head 24/7 like some kind of evil news ticker. I’m - genuinely - paralyzed with nervousness and dread.

Italy and My New Best Friend!

After I finished my masters, my parents flew in so we could travel around Europe a bit! This was such a fun end cap for an emotionally exhausting summer. We went to Edinburgh for two days, then on to Rome for 4 ish days where I met TWO dear friends (shoutout Natalie and Flora <3), and then took a car through Tuscany and up to Milan. But, as many family trips go, it certainly had its own share of issues.

The biggest was my Mom’s bag getting swiped while we were at dinner and that had

1. All her makeup.

2. Her wallet with her credit cards and about $800 in cash

3. And her Passport

So luckily nothing important.

Suffice to say it shook our morale for a day or two. But shout out to my parents they both brushed it off and things after went according to plan. Driving out of Rome was a nightmare with my Dad making plenty of deathreats upon indifferent Roman motorists, but once we started driving through Lazio, Umbria, and Tuscany the drive was beautiful.

Getting to Florence, we planned to get to the consulate in their narrow window (8:30-12:30) in order to acquire a new passport. BUT!!! We had to go to the train station (a mile and a half away) in order to get a passport-approved picture to hand to them. It was 11:15 already…

We could not find a taxi, so jump-cut to me playing drill sergeant with my poor 62 year old mom as I march her across Florence and into a photo kiosk to get a picture. ‘Twas a nightmare.

As a gesture to my mom for being a trooper (and as sort of an apology) me, my dad (who had driven around the city to park our car) and my mom show up in this nice leather shop in Florence called Il Bisonte. I’m sweaty, exhausted, and just zoned out on my phone when my Dad nudges me and motions to the only two other customers in the store…

Conan O’Brien and his wife.

So I’m a big Conan fan. I’ve listened to a ton of his podcast episodes, watched most of his clips on Youtube, and I’ve watched dozens of episodes of his new HBO travel show. I even signed up to try to be a fan he’d talk to on his podcast. And yes, I’ve fantasized about meeting him and showing off my wit and charm.

“I’d be soo cool with Conan, I’d treat him like just a normal dude” I’d tell myself…

So as I now uncomfortably stare at him browsing the wallets he makes an offhand comment “you guys sure look busy”. And I hardly even acknowledge it. It was mentally as if I was staring at a really good impersonator of Conan…my brain just couldn’t compute it was actually him. We were actually in the same room together.

Luckily, I managed to whimper that I watched his podcast (a lot) and tons of his youtube clips, he instantly lights up and says “oh! We should take a picture”.

And I was like “really??? :D” and giggled like a Japanese schoolgirl.

Me and my BEST FRIEND Conan O'Brien

We talked a little about history, our fav podcasts, and Mary Beard. What a rush! Genuinely reminded me of how I felt talking to girls in high school (that’s not a joke). I was, genuinely, giggling for the rest of the day.

Anywho the rest of our trip was your standard Italian fare. No need to mention much more.

Housekeeping: Blog News, Podcast Stuff, And a foreboding warning…

As I settle back into the boring midwest, the lifestyle-side of this blog might see some dust and cobwebs for the time being! I did form this blog with the principle aim of talking about my archaeological journey, but I respect everyone’s time too much to make posts about digging some random survey site out in Guymon, Oklahoma. So the life updates will endure a respite for now as I try to find the ground underneath my feet so to speak.

I HAVE been on a podcast!!! My friend Lauren from my first dig wayyy back in 2021 (what?!?!) has an archaeology podcast called “Can You Dig It?”. On our episode me and another good friend Arti discuss popular misconceptions with archaeology and the point and purpose behind our profession and what we can do to better market its true purpose! It was such a shout and when it releases I hope y’all give it a listen. If you love learning about archaeology (remember when that was this blog’s job??? haha), then follow her Instagram!! I’ll link it here.

More political posts are coming!! If you hate that, then this is your warning to batten down the hatches and prepare for my coming opinions… for they will surely blanket the news coverage and overwhelm the radio waves the way a hurricane rolls over a seaside town causing chaos in the streets. Surely.

And if you like my opinions yay!! I promise you guys I’m not running out. The next political post will be this Friday and it will be a full run down on Charlie Kirk. Just a light read.

To all (yes all) of my York friends, I love you and miss you all dearly!! You each made my time there so much brighter and enjoyable. I will try to muster the courage to reach out and see how you’re doing. Godspeed and I will see you all in Valhalla. Either the actual pub in York or the cosmic location… whichever comes first.