Leap Day in Deutschland

Really nice day today. Raquel and I got up around 9:30 and left for Munich (or, as it's known here in Germany, München) at 11. We had a pleasant two-hour drive on the autobahn, which involved listening to a lot of music and going at speeds that are frankly impossible in California. Fun fact: in certain places, there is no speed limit on the autobahn. The first time I heard this, I was astounded, and I thought German highway patrol would be up to their eyeballs in car wrecks, but actually, having experienced it for myself, the system seems to work pretty well. Raquel also pointed out the exit signs, the German word for which is "ausfahrt." She mentioned that when she arrived in Germany, she was astounded at the size of this great city, Ausfahrt, because there were signs for it everywhere. Then her husband pointed out what it actually meant. Frankly, it's an easy mistake to make, and I laughed when she told me that she's seen t-shirts with legends like "Ausfahrt: the biggest town in Germany" and the like (Urban Dictionary backs her up here).

Thank you, Google Images!

We got to Munich at one o'clock on the dot and headed over to the Alte Pinakothek, an art museum (my sixth in Europe so far, hells yeah), which houses, among other famous works, Albrecht Dürer's Self-Portrait in Fur Coat and The Four Apostles, and Leonardo Da Vinci's first painting, Madonna of the Carnation. Raquel mentioned she had never been to an art museum like it before, and she seemed to enjoy the experience. She really liked Hieronymus Bosch's work; I promised to show her The Garden of Earthly Delights before I went back to France. Working in the art history department comes in surprisingly handy!

Also, for the Doctor Who fans, behold François Boucher's Madame de Pompadour!

After a couple of hours, we decided to head out, though we weren't nearly done with the museum; we wanted to get to Dachau before the concentration camp memorial site closed. We grabbed some sandwiches to go at a bakery on the outskirts of Munich (mozzarella and tomato seems to be a favorite throughout Western Europe, which I appreciate very much as a vegetarian) and hopped back on the road. Dachau, as it turns out, is not very far at all from Munich, and twenty minutes later we were parked and walking onto the memorial site.

The front gates, with the motto "Arbeit Macht Frei"

It was a very strange feeling to be there. I've been surrounded by World War II lately; I'm taking a class on Winston Churchill, my Aftermath of Wars Since 1990 class mentioned post-World War II propaganda in passing, I visited the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam, and shortly afterwards I watched a well-regarded miniseries about her life. But, as the Anne Frank House taught me, there's an emotional distance between reading something and standing where the players have stood. Walking into Dachau felt chilling. I couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly deny the Holocaust happened; I stood in the room that had once been a gas chamber and saw the ovens and the barracks with my own eyes. Dachau wasn't even an extermination camp; it was first intended for political prisoners, and apparently few people were gassed there. But Raquel and I went by at least three memorial stones representing the thousands of people who died of illness, starvation, overwork, and execution, and down an avenue where all but two of the barracks had been torn down, but the foundations were left in their place. It was very quiet, very sad, and very real.

There was a chapel on the property; we lit some candles in honor of the victims

We left just after closing time. On the drive back to Grafenwöhr, Raquel, who had been sneezing all day, went downhill fast. I felt her cheek; she was burning up. I was sorry I couldn't volunteer to drive (apparently I would need a special European license for that), and glad when we finally got back. We went to have dinner with her friends Alex and Jason, both soldiers in the Army like Raquel's husband, at their house, where Raquel could take it easy. Alex made a pizza from scratch - he's a really good cook.

After dinner we sat around in the living room and watched Zombieland. They offered me a German beer, but I didn't like it, so Raquel made me a drink with pineapple juice and some coconut rum. I actually enjoyed it quite a bit, though I drank it very slowly and only after having had dinner. I'm paranoid about getting drunk. I think I may have had my first real buzz, though. I'm not sure if I really liked it, but it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, just unusual. I noticed that I did slur my words a little toward the end of my drink, so I don't think I'll be repeating this often, but it was an interesting little experiment, and I'm glad I tried it at a house just hanging out with people rather than at a bar or a wild party.

We ended up crashing at Alex and Jason's place; Raquel says their couch is more comfortable than her bed, which helped her get some much-needed rest when she wasn't feeling well, and they had a spare room for me. Raquel mentioned that she was pretty sure we were going to have to cancel Prague; I was disappointed, but I saw how miserable her fever was making her, and knew it was for the best. And really, even though we aren't going to the Czech Republic, my time in Germany has been fun so far, Raquel getting sick aside. I'm glad I decided to pay a visit.

This is What a Seven-Hour Train Trip to Bavaria Feels Like

I woke up this morning in Paris. Once again, I hadn't gotten much sleep, this time because just as I was drifting off at around nine, I saw something black move behind the dresser. Because the lights were out, I couldn't tell if it was a cockroach or a mouse, but it freaked me out enough to stay awake. I kept the TV and the lights on, watching increasingly odder things as the night wore on. Did you know you can find Doctor Quinn: Medicine Woman dubbed in French at 11 PM? There was also an unintentionally-hilarious sci-fi B-movie about aliens and the same loop of news running over and over again, mostly about the awards The Artist won at the Oscars. Around 3 AM I finally got over my fear of whatever scurrying thing was behind the dresser sufficiently enough to go to sleep, though not enough to turn the lights or TV off. Still, considering my severe lack of sleep, I was up, packed, and ready to go well before I needed to be, and I got to the train station with plenty of time to spare.

Ever since my mishap on the way to the Netherlands at the beginning of the month, I've been hyper vigilant about train travel. I triple-check my tickets and the platform number, even when I know I'm on the right train, which makes me pretty anxious. Luckily the platforms were announced well in advance of departure in both stations, and I had no trouble finding the correct trains. The journey from Paris to Frankfurt was uneventful; I slept, listened to A Way with Words, and read about Bavaria in my guidebook. Still, I had a knot of worry in my stomach all throughout the Frankfurt-Nuremberg leg of my trip, because unlike on the TGV from Paris, I could not understand for the life of me what the announcer was saying. Apparently he was using English in addition to German, but his English was utterly incomprehensible (rather like my French, I'm afraid). But since I knew I was on the right train and the German name for Nuremberg is not especially different from the English one, I figured things out readily enough. When I got to the Nuremberg train station, however, Raquel was late, and the cell phone number I had for her was missing a digit, so there was no way I could contact her. Calling my parents helped me to keep my head, and eventually Raquel and I found each other, so all's well that ends well.

We walked around Nuremberg for a bit and then drove to Grafenwohr, where she lives. Her husband is currently deployed in Afghanistan, so I'm more than happy to keep her company for a few days. Some of her friends dropped by at dinnertime, and they were very nice. They do swear rather a lot, but I have to keep reminding myself that I'm a mildly sheltered preachers' kid and they're in the Army, and really, I got along with them well enough in spite of the differences. Tomorrow Raquel and I are going to Munich and Dachau, which should make for an interesting day. Prague on Thursday!

Nostalgia Trip

So, like roughly any other girl I went to school with, I grew up reading the American Girl books. While I never owned a doll, I loved the stories, which were about brave and resourceful young ladies growing up in different eras in United States history. When I was little, Samantha was my favorite; now that I'm older, I might like Felicity best. I even had the completely hilarious in retrospect computer game, American Girl Premiere. In any case, I know that when I think about these books, I do so with a nostalgia filter firmly in place.

During the past several years, I found out that there have been movie versions of some of the stories, sweet, inoffensive films I enjoy watching when I come across them. I saw the Felicity movie when I was still living at home, and the Samantha movie shortly thereafter, but it wasn't until this weekend that I finally got around to seeing Molly and Kit. Some are better made than others; Kit's was the only theatrical release, with an appropriately laudable cast (Abigail Breslin of Little Miss Sunshine as Kit, with supporting roles played by Stanley Tucci, Joan Cusack, Wallace Shawn, and Julia Ormond), whereas the rest have been TV movies with generally lesser-known stars. After having seen them all, I think Molly's was probably the worst. She was played by Canadian Maya Ritter, and while I certainly have nothing against Canadians, it's a little jarring to see a movie set in a heavily patriotic World War II-era United States that was obviously filmed in Canada with a mostly Canadian cast, the younger members of which have not been taught the U.S. way of saying "sorry," for example. (Though I must admit, I do rather like the Canadian way, and always grin when I hear Gilbert Blythe using it in the Anne of Green Gables films). As for Felicity and Samantha, I think I need to watch their movies again to decide which I liked best. I do remember, however, that Felicity is played by Shailene Woodley, who would go on to star in The Secret Life of the American Teenager (cringe) and The Descendants (which is actually getting her a lot of buzz), and Samantha by AnnaSophia Robb of Bridge to Terabithia fame.

If you happen to feel as nostalgic about these books as I do, I have included links to all the trailers for your viewing pleasure: Samantha, Felicity, Kit, Molly. It's been a lovely weekend for a nostalgia trip; I hope you feel similarly.

Discoveries

Hey there! You may notice some mysterious updates from the past, mostly Downton Abbey reviews, start to find their way onto my blog. I shall say only this: I was working on a class project most of the week, there are certain days when I have no creative energy, and goodness, can Blogger's posting system be slow. Pay no attention to the retroactively blogging man behind the curtain.

Anyway, in lieu of a newsy post, here are some things I have discovered in my second month of living in France:

• Carrefour baguettes should really be eaten within two days of purchase. There is only so much a healthy slathering of Nutella can do to save stale bread.
• Making sure your phone isn't dead before you go somewhere can be very helpful. It can lessen the stress of an accidental train ride, and it can help you avoid awkward conversations in terrible French with other people's landlords.
• Always buy your fruits and veggies at the Wazemmes Market.
• Spaghetti can be delicious with mixed veggies instead of sauce, especially when prepared as outlined in your vegetarian cookbook.
• Train trips to Germany are super expensive. Gah.
• On the other hand, train trips to Disneyland Paris are not.
• Putting your small suitcase in front of your door will stop Demon Cat from forcing his way into your room at six in the morning, like he did on Wednesday.
• Staying up until three in the morning to watch the new episode of Switched at Birth is a bad life decision, especially when you're only doing it because you're bored.
• It is surprising how much you can get out of a movie even if you only understand about half the dialogue.
• French movies use a lot of English-language songs.
• Mushroom pizza on a baguette is pretty much the best thing ever.
• Churchill class is awesome when you know you've made a favorable impression on the instructor.
• If you drop your pastry on the street, the 10-second rule still applies. Just pick off the dirty bits and you should be fine. I haven't died yet.
• As gross as it is to pick up after your dog when you're taking him for a walk, it is infinitely more gross to have to constantly sidestep the business of other people's dogs. Seriously, France, how hard is it to take a grocery bag with you and just take care of things then and there?
• Spending day after day in cold and cloudy weather has made me appreciate El Centro's warmth and sunshine far more than I ever expected.
• Planning a vacation with your mother is actually really exciting, though it is a lot of work.
• Skype is a lifesaver.
• Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I miss UVa so much, and trying to find a way around a six-hour time difference is much harder than I thought it would be. On the other hand, nine hours between Lille and California is not as inconvenient as I expected. Basically, though, I wish I had my friends around.
• To end on a positive note: The past two weeks have been good ones for making new friends. :)

Checking In

This will be a short post. I just wanted to mention that I have been losing myself in fiction lately, which is why my poor lonely blog has been neglected this week. Downton Abbey has briefly consumed my life; I was up until nearly four last night and the night before watching it. As you might have guessed, this means I owe you about fifteen blog posts, which will be written; I have to retroactively fill up unused days with something. There will also be a review of John Green's new novel The Fault in Our Stars, which was achingly beautiful, hilarious, and sad. I don't usually cry when I read books, but oh boy did I cry when I read this one. Also, I find it very fitting that I read it within a week of my visit to Amsterdam. Anyway, expect this blog to turn into review central soon.

The other thing I wanted to mention is that this is the time of year when I'm prone to feeling sorry for myself. I know you must be sick of hearing about it, and it is rather pathetic, but sometimes I just get so upset over being 21 and not having had a boyfriend yet. I really want to get over it already - I went to therapy about this, for heaven's sake! - and I realize writing self-pitying things like this doesn't really help. I guess I wanted to let you know that if I seem a bit down, it's because I'm rather sick of our culture's obsession with romantic love, and its tendency to label those without it as incomplete. Or maybe I'm sick of the readiness with which I buy into that notion anyway. Well, in any case, I shall be cheerful enough again soon. Just prepare yourselves for sarcastic Aida, and know that she'll hopefully be herself within a few days.

Okay, Downton Abbey! Reviews! Until later!

Visited Countries Update

I'm just going to include my two European maps; the worldwide update will come when I'm back in the States in June.

So far, the European countries I've spent a significant amount of time in are France, Belgium, and the Netherlands:

I have also technically been to the UK, which this map divides into its component parts, and Germany. So I am including England here for my Heathrow stop, and Germany for my accidental foray to Essen and then to Rosendal:

Sisterhood Everlasting [SPOILERS]

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants has a special place in my heart. They're not the best books ever written, but they spoke to me nonetheless. I hasten to add that I am a quite casual Traveling Pants fan; I've read the first three books and some of the fourth, and I own both movies. I was nevertheless surprised to hear that Ann Brashares had written another installment in the series, however. The cynical side of me thinks she just wrote it so she would have a guaranteed seller on her hands, but even if that is the case, Brashares's writing doesn't really suffer. In fact, I would say her prose is better than it's ever been, bearing in mind it's been a long while since I read the first book. Yet as well-written and ultimately good as this book was, it was also one of the saddest, most heart-wrenching things I've ever read.

Okay, if you don't want to be spoiled for this book, stop reading NOW. Major, major spoilers ahoy. In fact, it is impossible to really discuss this book without discussing the huge, series-changing spoiler, because it's the main plot point in the book. Look away!

Art and Conversation

Lovely day today. I had gone to bed last night feeling slightly under the weather, and when I woke up I knew I wasn't great, but after a shower and a delicious breakfast of French toast, fruit salad, and tea, I was ready to face the day. Lauran took me to the American Protestant Church in The Hague this morning. The drive over was quite pretty, with the gleaming snow and old windmills off in the distance every once in a while. The service was also nice; it was traditional, and the songs were well-chosen. It was wonderful to sing, though my voice wasn't completely up to par, what with my cold and everything. Still, I haven't really sung since I arrived in Europe - I don't feel very comfortable singing around the people in my house, and there's nowhere else I can sing. Anyway, everyone was friendly, there was tea after worship (which made my throat happy, especially after the singing), and I was glad I could worship in my own language, though I realize I shouldn't stay my comfort zone all the time.

After church, Lauran and I went to the Mauritshuis, an art museum with a focus on Dutch and Flemish painters from the 17th century. Apart from the all the still life and landscapes, it is the home of Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring and Rembrandt's The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, among others. Once again I find myself very grateful to have worked in the art history department for the past two-and-a-half years; I've learned so much. Who knew all that cataloging would come in so useful? Also useful was the art history survey I took credit/no credit back in first year (incidentally, both famous pieces from the Mauritshuis were in my textbook), which really taught me a lot about the specific movements and their defining characteristics. I've now been to four art museums during my time in Europe, but I think this was my favorite visit so far, not least because Lauran is a great art museum companion (no rushing, we both appreciate religious art, etc.) The Mauritshuis is a small museum, so we were able to go through relatively quickly. I bought a Girl with a Pearl Earring magnet for my collection (I'm going to have an awesome refrigerator when I get back to Virginia), and then we went on our way.

Once we left The Hague, Lauran took me to meet her friend Inga and her family. They live in an authentic 18th (or maybe even 17th) century Dutch farmhouse, which is partially renovated to suit their needs, but still has an amazing amount of the original woodwork and structure (and also happens to be right next to the Rhine). We spent the rest of the afternoon with them, talking about their upcoming trip to the States, my travel misadventures, and just Dutch/European life in general. Lauran brought the leftover soup from Friday, so we had that for dinner, with some wonderful warm, flaky bread. Inga also made some chicken that smelled heavenly, but I stayed true to my vegetarianism and had a lot of shredded lettuce instead. It was a great meal. Inga and her family are very nice, and after we had all eaten, she and one of her sons performed two songs for us, she on piano and he singing. We said good-bye shortly afterward and then went to drop in on Lauran's friend Jan, who is a television producer and very well known in the Dutch Christian community for hosting the Dutch Hour of Power worship broadcast on Sundays. Both he and his house were very nice.

We drove back to Hoofddorp, where I finished my Batten application (just need my recommendations to come in) and then curled up on the sofa in one of Lauran's extra blankets to watch the news. She made tea and we chatted off and on while she worked. Just before midnight she turned on the Super Bowl, which is broadcast in the Netherlands on BBC1. As I discovered, they don't show the commercials here; instead, they cut straight from the game to the BBC Sport desk and sometimes explain tricky plays. Since the commercials are easily the most interesting part of the Super Bowl for me, I decided to turn in early(ish) - well, that, and I'm sort of rooting for the Patriots but don't really care about football, and things were not going well for them, a least at the time I excused myself. Plus, I have to catch a train at 9:30 tomorrow, and I really don't want a repeat performance of Friday.

I have had a fabulous weekend in the Netherlands, and am thinking that I'll come back in April when my mom is in Europe; Lauran wants us to be here for tulip season. I've had such a good time that I think we'll have to take her up on that. Well, back to France tomorrow!

Day in the Sun

Today Lauran and I went into Amsterdam. I wanted to see Anne Frank House and maybe the Van Gogh Museum before the weekend was over; thus far, I've been to the former. I woke up much later than I'd intended, but no matter; Lauran fixed me a delicious omelette, we ran an errand, and ended up walking over to the bus stop about two. From there, we took a bus to Schiphol, where we caught a train into the city. Public transportation is so good in Europe! It was a gorgeous day; the sun was shining, the sky was a brilliant blue, and the snow was beautiful and white (well, at least in Hoofddorp. It wasn't so white in Amsterdam, but it still added a lot of charm). We strolled over to Anne Frank House. Our route took us over bridges, covering canals that were mostly frozen over but sometimes broken up to allow boats through. As has been my experience throughout Europe, the city was an eclectic combination of old and new, authentic and commercial. The street performers were interesting as usual; there was a man who had painted himself gold and stood perfectly still on top of a pedestal, looking for all the world like a statue - I must have jumped about a foot in the air when he suddenly moved and took a bow.

Anne Frank House was nice. It wasn't as sad as I thought it was going to be, though it did feel very strange to go up into the Annex and realize I was standing where she had stood. I still can't imagine what it must have been like to have eight people living there. Also, the stairs were incredibly steep and narrow; I don't know how anyone didn't break their neck going up and down that thing in the dark. Anyway, when I was finished looking around the museum, I went and found Lauran at the cafe, and we walked over to our restaurant. I had hot chocolate and pumpkin lasagne, which was unusual but very tasty. Afterward, Lauran took me through the red light district, as I had asked her. She's done a lot of work with human trafficking outreach and education, and I thought her insight would put a unique spin on things. I wasn't wrong. It was sobering, seeing those girls sitting in their windows, and hearing the men behind us make lewd jokes. I still don't know exactly how I felt about it, just that I was simultaneously grateful and a little ashamed that I had been fortunate enough to be born into a family, country, and situation in life where I would not be coerced into or feel otherwise trapped enough to turn to prostitution.

The day ended cheerfully enough, though. Lauran and I went back to her apartment, where she made tea and we watched The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2, my choice. Honestly, it feels really different having read most of Sisterhood Everlasting, but it's still a sweet movie and I enjoyed watching it with Lauran. Then we played with her cat a little and said good night.

Looking forward to tomorrow. Church, maybe Van Gogh museum - all in all, a nice day planned.

Getting to the Netherlands (Eventually)

So remember back in December, when I went up to DC for my visa appointment, missed my train, and kind of freaked out before eventually finding my way back to Charlottesville? My parents told me then that this was a learning experience, and if it happened in Europe I would know what to do. Well, it happened it Europe, except this time I got on the wrong train, and I reacted roughly the same way. I'm not especially proud of myself right now, but I made it safely to Lauran's apartment in Hoofddorp, so I guess no harm was done in the long run.

Here is what happened: the first leg of the journey went smoothly. I got to the train station in Lille with plenty of time, I had my tickets, and I was on the train to Antwerp as soon as they announced the gate. I was actually sort of enjoying myself; one of my neighbors happened to be on the train with me, and we talked (she in French, me in English, and we understood each other) until her stop. It was snowing, which made everything really pretty outside. I started reading Sisterhood Everlasting, the new Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants book, on my iPod, and ate some madeleines. Things were nice. Then I happened to check the time and realized my train was going to be late. I already had a very short layover in Antwerp, and I started to feel quite anxious. By the time we pulling into Antwerpen Centraal, my stop, I had maybe one minute to get to my next train. This was complicated by the fact that everything was in Dutch, including the announcements on the train. I glanced at what I thought was the departures board, and saw a train listing for Amsterdam at correct time. I didn't think twice about it; I just ran for the gate, and when a Thalys train appeared, I got on it. The cars were not numbered very well, however, so I decided to ask a conductor (in French, not my brightest idea) to show me where to go. The second she saw my ticket, she told me I had gotten on the wrong train, and explained where I should get off and change. This entire conversation was in her Dutch-accented French, and I was panicking, so I didn't really understand what was going on.

Of course, my phone was nearly dead because I hadn't given it enough time to charge earlier, and I had forgotten to write Lauran's number down before I left. I ended up frantically calling my mom and asking her to get on my Facebook and find the number. I had forgotten that my Facebook is in French, which my mom doesn't speak, and I was terrified (and yes, crying) about my mistake. She had to tell me the phone number a few times over before I got it down. I finally got in touch with Lauran and explained the situation; then the same conductor came and explained the directions to me in English, which made me feel somewhat sheepish for not trying my native language in the first place. As it turns out, I had gotten on a train to Essen, Germany. In Essen, I waited on the platform for a train to Rosendal, where I could find a train to Amsterdam. Apart from having to tell myself out loud, several times, that I was going to be okay and for goodness' sake stop crying, I made it to Rosendal without a hitch and boarded a train to Amsterdam within ten minutes. Some of the passengers there spoke English, and luckily no one ever checked my ticket, so I didn't have to explain the situation to a disgruntled conductor. I successfully got on a smaller train to Schiphol airport, which is closer to Lauran's apartment, and half an hour later she picked me up and we drove back to her place in the snow. As I told my mom on Skype later, I was pretty ashamed of how things turned out, but hopefully next time (fingers crossed there won't be a next time), I'll remember to a) keep my head, and b) speak English to the conductors. Anyway, I'm here, and that's the most important thing.

Lauran's apartment is beautiful and her cat is so friendly. She was very understanding about the whole situation, and didn't mind fixing a plate and some tea for me at eleven o'clock, which is about the time we made it to her place. Everything is actually quite pretty with all the snow, and I'm looking forward to Amsterdam tomorrow. Here's hoping the next post will be much more cheerful than this one!

Aida Watches Downton Abbey, Season 1, Episode 2

Previously on Downton Abbey: The Crawleys are aristocratic, the servants are complex individuals with their own stories, and Titanic-induced inheritance drama means Edward Ferrars becomes the new heir of Downton.

~Follow the cut to the review and the SPOILERS~

Entertainment 2012: January 1 - January 31

Quick explanation for new readers: I keep track of the books, movies, and plays that I read/watch throughout the year, and at the beginning of every month post my updated entertainment list. I haven't always been the most consistent at doing this, though. This year has been going pretty well so far, list-wise, so hopefully it'll be better now. Note that when I list a work as "new," I mean new to me, not necessarily new in general. Anyway, here it is:

Books
1. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell (new read)

Movies
1. The Help, new, better than I thought it would be but still sort of rubs me the wrong way as a politics major with a focus on race and gender
2. Dolphin Tale, new, surprisingly charming (then again, I am the girl who used to love dolphins so much I used to check all the tuna cans at the grocery store to make sure they were dolphin-safe)
3. Moneyball, new, pretty good if a little overrated
4. Kiki's Delivery Service, mostly new, sweet
5. My Neighbor Totoro, new, so adorable
6. Castle in the Sky, new, great storytelling
7. Nausicäa of the Valley of the Wind, new, intense and quite good
8. From Up on Poppy Hill (Kokuriko-zaka kara), new, weird but pretty
9. The Duchess, new, strange but not bad despite the presence of Keira Knightley

Plays
None

And while I tend to watch my TV either as it airs or in bits and pieces online (and therefore not in a way that works really well with my list), here are the shows I'm currently following:
The Office (I've seen every episode, and I still enjoy it, though it is past its prime)
Parks and Recreation (LOVE)
Switched at Birth (yeah, I know, but it's actually quite good for an ABC Family show)
I've seen the first episode of Downton Abbey (just realized the post I wrote never ended up online somehow - that'll be fixed within the next couple of days), and plan to write a blog series on it once I can, um, find a good proxy, since at the moment I can access neither my Netflix nor the PBS website and don't know where else to watch it legally. Anyway, I suspect I'll end up loving it; British costume dramas are generally my thing, and I liked the pilot well enough.
Doctor Who - the 2005 reboot, more specifically. I've seen all of series one and two and the first episode of series three at this point. David Tennant is my preferred Doctor; as for companions, I liked Rose and didn't particularly care for Donna, at least from the one episode that I've seen with her in it.

Entertainment things I'm looking forward to this year:
Avatar: The Legend of Korra (sequel series to Avatar: The Last Airbender, which is fantastic and you should watch it immediately. Also, just FYI, I like to pretend M. Night Shyamalan's atrocity never happened. It's nothing like the show which it is purportedly based on)
Brave (newest Pixar movie, its first with a female protagonist, and she's a spirited Scottish redhead, oh happy day)
The Hunger Games (this is one of the few books I think will work better on the screen than on the page, and I think Jennifer Lawrence was meant to play Katniss. Also, Josh Hutcherson will be playing my favorite character, Peeta, and I've had a huge soft spot for him since Bridge to Terabithia)
Reading The Fault in Our Stars when it gets here from the States, since I've heard from nearly everyone who's read it that it's John Green's best novel yet.
Make It or Break It's return to television (shut up. It's my guilty pleasure show, and I need Payson to win the gold medal at the Olympics and get together with Sasha ~in the future~)
Speaking of which, the Olympics are this summer! I really only care about gymnastics, and maybe swimming a little bit, but I love watching them, and they'll be in London this year!
Finally, it's an election year! Not really looking forward to the nastiness of the race, but I can't wait to see dear old Mittens get his phony ass handed to him in the debates and on November 6. (Wow, that sounded kind of harsh, but I'm not taking it back. Mitt Romney disgusts me in way most politicians don't.)