Transplanted from Texas

Two Firsts

2010-03-19T00:11:00.003Z

Written March 16, 2010

Before I explain the title above, I must provide some preliminary information:

For parent's week both my Mom and my Dad were in town for parents weekend. I really enjoyed their company. We went took a boat ride to Greenwich, went inside the Queen’s house, and up to the top of the hill to straddle the prime meridian line. We also went to the Royal Naval Museum, and had lunch at a pub. It was nice to be in the open air (when compared to South Kensington) and see something new in London. Then I came back to the house to do a couple loads of laundry and my parents went to the V & A for a couple hours. What came after was a night of firsts.

First, my mom and dad came down to the laundry room after I showed them around the lounge and the kitchen. Originally just following me to get a look at our laundry area, they ended up helping me with my laundry. As a result, my Dad ended up with a few of my hang dry clothes over his shoulder as we walked up the stairs. So “first” number one, my Dad helped me with my laundry.

Obviously, we had to eat dinner. I couldn’t decide where to bring my parents. I really enjoy the food here, but my mom isn’t a big fan of Lebonese or Indian food, it doesn’t really agree with her stomach, so our choices were a little limited. We ended up going to Da Mario’s, which is a regular group dinner restaurant for the London House (basically, we are spoiled). The place was full when we walked in. They brought us downstairs, and I thought, "Here’s normal old Da Mario’s", but then they brought us into a room I have never seen before, in all my many nights at Da Mario’s. To top it off, the service was fast, and the food was more delicious than usual.

My Dad decided to order some wine. Are you bracing yourself for first number two? He looked over the wine menu and asked my Mom what she wanted. Then, the waiter asked him if he wanted a bottle or not. He asked my mom. She said, “Well maybe Alanna wants some.” I think it dawned on my Dad at that very moment that I am actually of drinking age in London. I think he knew it before while he was in America and I was here in London, but it was almost as if he realized that now I could drink while he was in the room. He asked me if I wanted any. I said, “Maybe a little,” so as to not be over zealous and appear like a raging alcoholic to my somewhat reluctant father.

The wine came and the waiter poured first into my Dad’s cup and next into mine. Our waiter was filling my glass up to the line, and as he was about half way there, my Dad freaked out a little bit, held his hand up, and asked him to stop. I was left with half a glass of wine, which was a bit comical. We had dinner, and I had my first drink with my Dad, at 20 instead of 21 because I’m in London in the United Kingdom, studying abroad. My mom would like to say that was a big moment, as if I’m all grown up now that I’ve had wine with my father at Da Mario’s accompanied with Rigatoni Da Mario and garlic bread. I’m not certain how I feel about it. Maybe.

"Love set you going like a fat gold watch:" A Week in France

2010-03-09T13:55:00.001Z

Written March 9, 2010

It took me about two weeks to convince my friends that the South of France was the best destination for Spring Break. We thought about Croatia, Portugal, and Spain. Much negotiating was done, and then finally we decided on France. We have done a lot of flustered and rushed sight seeing over weekends these past few months, but this trip was for relaxing. We rented an apartment in old nice and brought books and dirty clothes to wash in the in house (and free!) washer and dryer. Of course, when I say we, I mean Natalie, Sonya, Katie Webb, Mariesa (who took multiple trains from Lausanne to meet us!!!! ), Evanne, and I.

The view from our windows was phenomenal, especially as sunset. There was a stature of a pope (not certain which one) right outside our window, nicely fastened to the picturesque church next door. The quaintness of old town was all around, including an abundance of gelato. French architecture is my favorite, although in Texas that normally shows itself in a Louisiana style house, I was still in heaven in France.
Our first meal in France was lunch on Sunday afternoon. We went out to the coastal road to eat with a view of the ocean. We could tell that there was some sort of festival going on in Old Town, but the only evidence we had been able to find was confetti. Then, a parade came slowly by. Huge floats made to looks like moving dragons (Land Before Time music was playing), smurfs, and a very beaten looking world, bandaged and with needles stuck into it—which I’ll admit looked a little disturbing. We had perfectly placed ourselves to view the spectacle.

One of the best parts about our trip to France was that Evanne flew into London the day before we left in order to join us. Now, whether you know it or not, Evanne and I have been having some issues. For a lot of reasons, so it was good to be with her. I was really excited for her to meet my friends, and I hope that she can get closer to them next year and we can all hang out. I liked it because by the end of the week her and Katie Webb had some little inside jokes in the taxi on the way back to the airport. She had some jet lag during the week, and I know that must have been a pain, but I’m really glad she fought threw it cause it was so nice to spend time with her. I hope this trip will make things better this summer. Also, it was a little strange having her there, especially at first, mainly because I'm not used to having someone looks so much like me abroad. At home, its normal. When our cabbie dropped us off in the square in Nice I saw Evanne's reflection in the window of the car and for a millisecond I thought it was me, just because I wasn't used to having her there. That has NEVER happened before. I’m really glad she could make it. Also, she made chocolate covered strawberries, which she is very good at.

Having some time to read this past week, I came across some new poems. I'll put a few here for your enjoyment ;)

Atlas by U.A. Fanthorpe

There is a kind of love called maintenance,

Which stores the WD40 and knows when to use it;

Which checks the insurance, and doesn't forget

The milkman; which remember to plant bulbs;

Which answers letters; which knows the way

The money goes; which deals with dentists

And Road Fund Tax and meeting trains,

and postcards to the lonely; which upholds

The permanently ricketty elaborate

Structures of living; which is Atlas.

And maintenance is the sensible side of love,

Which knows what time and weather are doing

To my brickwork; insulates my faulty wiring;

Laughs at my dryrotten jokes; remembers

My need for gloss and grouting; which keeps

My suspect edifice in air,

As Atlas did the sky.

Animals by Miller Williams

I think the death of domestic animals

marks the sea changes in our lives.

Think how things were, when things were different.

There was an animal then, a dog or a cat,

not the one you have now, another one.

Think when things were different before that.

There was another one then. You had almost forgotten.

Newly Born Twins by Helen Farish

In separate incubators one of the twins was dying.

Against doctors orders, a nurse put them together.

The strong twin, the one with nothing

pulling her back, she slung

her newly born arm over

the one who was wanting to leave,

and stabilised her heartbeat, made everything

regular in the body of the one who'd already

had enough.

The strong one, she will think

she is God, that she can pull back

life from where it was wanting to go.

It will be harder for her

than for the one who already knows

about separation, loneliness, where

they can make you want to go.

Stationary by Agha Shahid Ali

The moon did not become the sun.

It just fell on the desert

in great sheets, reams

of silver handmade by you.

The night is your cottage industry now,

the day is your brisk emporium.

The world is full of paper.

Write to me.

We spent the week trying to communicate with vendors in super markets, in stores, and in train stations headed to Monaco and Cannes. One day wearing flip flops, I soon learned that my sheltered feet, having spent a whole winter under socks and boots, were not prepared for the flips flops I had brought a long with me. What resulted was about 10 blisters and at least 5 trips to the pharmacie, which luckily are dotted around France just as frequently as the Walgreens in Texas.

If I had to name my favorite moment in France, it would probably have to be the instance we turned the corner in Old Nice after following a series of signs marked “Marche Fleur.” It had rained that morning and as we turned from the ally into the square there was an abundance of flowers all around shielded by tarps and tents, but still looking happy from the dewiness resulting from precipitation. We had long awaited the flower market, and leaving it for the last day was ideal. We even snuck a bouquet home in my suitcase to give to Hannah Perrin for her birthday. It was the perfect end to the trip.

The last eventful thing that was meant to happen was a group dinner. Sometimes we do this at the house. I make a meal, and many times someone else tries to make guacamole. After France, we have all resigned ourselves to the fact that making guacamole is to no avail. The avocados are hard as rocks, and so the guacamole always fails. But we still managed to enjoy our dinner. Afterwards, we sat around enjoying some wine for a little while. At some point I had plopped on the couch, happy from the fullness of my stomach and a bit of a silly buzz from the wine when someone started knocking on our door. This is a normal enough event: people knocking on doors can even seem polite, but in a foreign country the only thought that comes to mind is how lost you are about to get in translation. We all looked at each other. I only knew I didn’t need to be in the room. I would find any spectacle that occurred much more hilarious that it actually was. So I ran upstairs. The lady held down the door bell. For a lonnng time. And then, she began to bang on the door, I am guessing with her fist. The whole wall shook. This caused Mariesa to break down in tears, partially because she speaks the best French and would have to confront the person at the door, and partially because she had a traumatic experience when she was younger when a similar thing occurred. We looked at the facts: There was an angry person at our door. We can’t speak French. And yeah, there is an angry person at our door. We didn’t answer it. They banged and yelled for 5 more minutes (we were honestly afraid the door might come down, it was rickety and old), and finally she left.

I would not be able to end this blog without including a few key quotes from this past week:

"Everything is infinitely sexier in France" -Quote courtesy of James Hicks, infamous Humanities professor

"You know what, this would look great in our APARTMENT!"

"If you love life, you'll LOVE France." -Katie Webb's proclaimation

"This is an All Star Cast." A very true statement.

Some pictures from the week:

Now that I’m back in London, I miss fumbling through my high school French to speak to the butcher and the restaurant owners. I miss the warmth in Nice, and the ocean, but most of all I’m glad for the experience. I would have stayed there for three more weeks and been completely happy, but things come to an end, and when I returned, its true, I felt like London was my home. I missed my bed and the smell of the London house, and the construction on Exhibition, and lunch at Le Pain. The best thing about being here isn’t really the traveling—it’s the transformation of a place from foreign to familiar.

A Trip to Poland

2010-03-07T16:09:00.001Z

Written February 21, 2010

This weekend Natalie, Amy, Hannah, Sonya, and I boarded a plane to the Katawice airport in Poland to see Auschwitz. Looking back, I now realize that I didn’t know what I was getting into.

Poland was cold. Snow was falling on the tarmac as we disembarked our plane. Our cabby was waiting for us at the exit of the airport, an elderly Polish man who apologized repeatedly for his bad English, explaining that he had only had three months to learn. With a hurried and endearing sort of hospitality, Jan, our cabbie, helped us put our things in the truck and pile into his van. Then, he began to drive, and all of us began to pray for our lives. He couldn’t keep his hands on the wheel. He changed the music at least 20 times, no exaggeration, and showed off his ability to count in English by pointing out the temperature and skipping through each track on the CD, saying and pointing out the number at the same time. He kept picking up a brochure from Auschwitz and explaining all the different buildings. Then he picked up an album from off the floor in front of the passenger seat and began to flip through pictures of his family and past tourists. Meanwhile he swerved left and right across the road, coming dangerously close to running into other people. We were left praying for our lives.

Of course, our Cabbie would not be the most impacting thing about our trip. In fact, he turned out to be a source of comic relief, a gift in many ways. We spent our first day in Poland merely arriving, having dinner, and resting up. I knew at the time that Auschwitz, the camp itself, was just across the street, but it didn’t mean anything to me. Growing up, I’ve heard so much about concentration camps—the lack of food, the harsh weather and bad conditions, the dying. I guess I had sort of accepted it as part of the past, horrible, but still there. I hadn’t known it, but I had formed a kind of numbness against those cruelties—like knowing that man landed on the moon in 1969. It’s hard for me to consider that extraordinary. In my life, it has always been.

Things changed the next morning. We literally walked across the street to the camp, and signed up for the tour. I was laughing, feeling a little tired. The lady who helped us at the ticket counter informed us that we could take a four hour tour in English starting at ten-o-clock. We waited ten minutes and light heartedly entered the cinema marked “KINO” in polish.

Now, I’ve watched movies on the Holocaust before. I read Anne Frank when I was younger, and I certainly remember crying. In fact, our trip to Auschwitz was inspired by my reading many books in which concentration camps had critical roles: The Reader by Bernhard Schlink and Black Dogs by Ian McEwan. My point is that nothing prepared me for the movie that followed or for the camp itself. In the cinema we saw men and women who looked like walking skeletons, aged by starvation, cold, and torture. The footage was taken during liberation. Their faces were happy, their legs that of herons or storks—not humans. And around them there were corpses lying in the dirt in front of stark looking buildings. And then the mass graves of the dead. The men, women, and children who had survived being shot in the head for sharing their bread portions, who’d lost a leg to the frost bite they’d received from being forced to stand in the snow all day.

Then we moved on to the camp. Notoriously, there was the barbed wire, the bunkers so that the prisoners might be guarded even whilst the camp was under attack, the sign over the entrance that read in German, “Work Brings Freedom,” so much more than a lie, far worse than a falsehood. And then there were the displays: 7 tons of human hair behind glass, piled up in heaps, taken off the women when they first arrived had they been taken as prisoners, and off the dead if they had been chosen for cremation instead. Cut off the head in a braid. I’ll never be able to look at braided hair the same way again. The hair had been packed into bags and stored to be sent to German textile companies. There was even a display that held some of the fabric that had already been made. The hair glistened in the threadwork.

The whole camp was filled with atrocities: pictures of women taken by another prisoner with a smuggled camera. They ran naked, herded to their own death in the gas chambers. We even walked into the gas chambers themselves where something like 500 people were poisoned at a time. The poison basically caused them to suffocate. Later the prisoners would have to clean the bodies out, dragging them off to be cremated, they found them in heaps. The stronger ones had struggled to live at the top of the piles.

There was one room that contained pictures of young men and women who had been brought to the camp and selected to be prisoners. Most likely their family members had already been killed. Their hair had been shaved off. The Nazis took pictures for identification, bureaucrat as they were, but later learned that the pictures were useless—the camp changed the people too much. Underneath the pictures were the names and dates of imprisonment followed by the dates of their deaths. What stood out was their expressions: the tears in their eyes, their hopelessness, but most of all their youth. My brother is fourteen. I can imagine him with the same expression—the face swollen with sadness, the loneliness, but then I’m certain I can’t imagine it at all.

We left Auschwitz that night. Jan, the cabbie, picked us up from the hotel. I can’t imagine staying another night. We passed by Birkenau, where the women were housed in row upon row of wooden un-insulated horse stables and I’ll admit I was scared. I know there wasn’t any danger. I understand that Jan was relatively harmless, other than his driving skills, and that Birkenau has been empty since 1945, but my knowledge of it changed things. Still, we made it to the airport. We arrived in safe London. I slept quietly.

Looking back at Auschwitz, I don’t understand how people get to the point where they no longer appreciate a life. I can’t really look down on the people who did it. I suppose I’m made no different than them. I can love things and I can hate things and I can even be ignorant. I have the ability, and it scares me. Had I been in their situation, had I been conditioned in the way they were under such propaganda and social pressure, I might have been like them. In Black Dogs, one of the characters talks about this kind of evil, saying, “The evil I’m talking about lives in us all. It takes hold in an individual, in private lives, within a family, and then it’s children who suffer most. And then, when the conditions are right, in different countries, at different times, a terrible cruelty, a viciousness against life erupts, and everyone is surprised by the depth of hatred within himself. Then it sinks back and waits. It’s something in our hearts.”

Part of me wishes grass could grow up around Auschwitz and we could let nature take its course; claim the barns and the torture cells and the gas chambers. Rid the world of them. But I suppose it’s all about the evolution of our hearts: striking a cord of emotion—remembering.

Meeting up with Houston--Egypt

2010-03-07T16:08:00.002Z

February 16, 2010

I’ve always loved camels. They’re just cool—the way they hold water and look so strange, strange like dinosaurs with those humps. And I’m sure you’re aware that this past week I rode a camel. Would you believe it if I told you that when I asked his name, my guide informed me that his name is Houston Texas? Later he called the camel Whiskey, but I liked Houston, Texas better.

Riding camels was truly an experience. First the leader of the camel guides, like the pimp of camels, grabbed me by my upper arm and practically dragged me in the general direction of my humped friend Houston. The bossy hand of my captor pointed at the saddle-like contraption and I assumed this meant I was supposed to mount my camel, oh joy of joys! So what did I do? I got up on that camel. My guide told me to lean back and prepare for my camel to launch into the sky. I don’t know if I’ve ever done anything more awkward than sitting this camel while he stood up. And then we plodded around the pyramids.

I’ve done a few amazing things in my life: herding cattle in Montana, hang-gliding in north Carolina, riding Mongolian ponies in Tibet, being within 10 feet of a lion at dusk in South Africa. I’m not going to say that riding camels around the pyramids takes the cake, but it most definitely makes the list. First of all, to be in a desert at all, surrounded by that forever changing landscape, and watching Egyptians (and Emily Rose) ride by on Arab ponies was invaluable. The atmosphere was one that comes around seldom in a lifetime. Then the pyramids, the pyramids stuck in the background, too old to even wrap my head around, and so huge, such a feat, just planted on the horizon line, like skyscrapers, or hills, or mountains, or windmills. As if they're simply meant to be there.

I’ll admit, the camel ride far outdid my expectations.

Some pictures from the week:

Indian Cuisine

2010-03-07T16:01:00.001Z

Written February 2, 2010

Before I came to London so many people told me that the Indian food would be fabulous. Unfortunately, up until last week, my only experience was with Kwality Indian, and Quality with a k kind of loses its meaning, because this place was, well lets just call it sub-par. So! On Monday night! Fred brought us to Haandi! And it was absolutely delicious, and well worth the wait, although I wish we could have experienced it sooner. We had Chicken Tikka Masala, and spicy lamb curry, and okra like I had never experienced it in the South, but I’ll admit I preferred it. I would probably say that my favorite part of the meal would have to be the desert. The only time I had ever had an Indian dessert before was at my school during International week, and that had been a very watery rice pudding. But Monday night at Haandi we did not have watery rice pudding for dessert. No, we had Galap Jamin, and I can’t be certain that I’m spelling that right, but I do know that it was delicious. Before it came to the table, Sonya hadn’t been sure how to describe the deliciousness that is Galap Jamin. She kept saying that they were like “Cheese balls” which, I will admit, does not sound very good. Gross. I would describe it as a sort of bread pudding instead. It came with ice cream and was an absolutely fabulous end to the night.

In fact, it was so fabulous that two days later when Natalie, Sonya, Hannah, and I passed by Haandi on our way to get lunch at Harrod’s 102, we were lulled to the amazing Galap Jamin we knew resided inside. A plan was fashioned: After lunch at Harrod’s 102 (where we get bagels which are also very good) we would head over to Haandi and partake of the Galap Jamin. We did this, and were very content with ourselves and the unfolding of said plan. It was just as delicious as I expected. The only difference was that we each got a Galap Jamin to ourselves. So here’s to fine London/Indian cuisine!

A Tea Confession

2010-03-07T15:45:00.001Z

Written January 19, 2010

As the title denotes, I am going to base this blog around a confession: Yes, I spent my previous semester in London. Yes, I really enjoyed myself and did my best to make a point of trying new things, but (here it is) before this past week I had never enjoyed one single cup of tea in England. It’s true. Blasphemy, I know.

First, it’s important to understand that I am from Texas, and while the British are very proud of their use of irony, understatement, and weather, in Texas we find our identity in a lot of things, but for our family one of those has always been in coffee. Strong, home-brewed, Folgers in your cup, American coffee. As Professor Hicks so aptly put it, “We Americans connect with our coffee—its robust, not weak like tea.” In connection to this, I think that it is quite possible that I read too many historical fiction books as an adolescent about the American Revolution and was turned off by the idea of snooty British Tea and its snooty little tax in the American past. It’s the only excuse I can come up with for having waited this long while the rest of the house has ordered tea at restaurants and sipped it during breaks. I stood by thinking of my Texas coffee, keeping a silent and probably unwarranted grudge. Here in London, we are not supplied with a true coffee maker which is just fine: I confined myself to hot chocolate (Texans naturally have nothing against chocolate) and stayed away from the hot tea.

I might also have been thinking, subconsciously, of my first encounter with tea in the UK during my first trip abroad to Scotland (which, if I am correct, is not England). There, I accompanied my friends to a little tea room in Glasgow and decided that I would be as Scottish as possible—I ordered the “Traditional Scottish Brew”. I took one sip of this concoction, which I can only imagine had been festering for a mighty long time in the back, quite possibly in a cauldron, and left it be. Afterwards, I never had tea in London. Not when I was sick. Not when I was cold. Not even with honey.

I don’t know what changed. I don’t know what prompted me to reach for a mug and a tea bag of English breakfast. To be honest, I didn’t quite know what to do with myself when I realized that the bag didn’t have a string attached to it. Even the new kids in the house laughed at my confusion. I watched as the water turned a warm glowing sort of brown, added sugar and milk and much to my amazement, I enjoyed every little sip down to the very last and even found myself going back for another cup.

So, to conclude. Tea: not so bad. I’ll admit, it’s weak, but admittedly friendly. Still, I must also confess that I will not be telling my grandfather about my temporary switch to tea while abroad. It is very possible he would be calling with worried tone saying, “I tell you what you need to do: you need to buy yourself a coffee maker,” and Lord knows I have better things to spend my money on.

36 Hours in Oslo.

2010-03-07T15:43:00.001Z

Written January 26, 2010

Destination: Oslo, Norway. Why? Well, why not. Natalie called me over spring break notifying me that RyanAir had cheap tickets to Oslo, and since we had both been saying we wanted to go, we booked it. You see, Natalie is Norwegian. Take a look at her cheek bones, you can tell. And I am not Norwegian, just in case you were wondering, but I have this goal to visit all of the settings from my favorite books, and Per Peterson’s Out Stealing Horses is probably in my top ten (you should definitely check it out). So, off to Norway we went, just the two of us, not knowing at all what to expect. It took a total of 12 hours to reach our hostel. I could tell you about our long list of setbacks—a 2 mile walk to the night bus stop in Chelsea at four in the morning, an extremely extensive security check, a missed flight, a diverted flight to a completely different airport, and a whole other list of uncalculated events, but it worked out. We were in Norway, a place I never imagined myself visiting.

The first thing you should know is that Norway is extremely cold. Surprise, surprise. Natalie and I began our one and only day in Oslo walking to the Munch museum. Munch is an artist from the early 20^th century. His works are very emotive and personal, one might even say depressing at times, but in the way that depression can be kind of glorious. The Munch museum, in which most of his works reside, has had the most painting stolen out of it to date. As in, in 2004 two guys dressed in black drove up in an Audi with guns and stole two of the paintings. In other words, this museum is definitely a must see. As we were trekking through Oslo trying to find the Munch museum using only Natalie’s memory of the map we left at the breakfast table, Natalie and I walked down a path and saw a greenhouse. First off, you should know the obsession my family has with green houses. Second, you should understand what this looked like. Here’s this park covered completely in snow, looking very blue and white and beautiful, but also stern in all its coldness. Then, in the distance, there’s a green house. It’s funny because it’s not like we could see the plants from that distance. We could only see the windows and the way the light lit up the inside with a kind of steamy warmth, and we knew, possibly from childhoods spent watching Frosty the Snowman each and every Christmas, that it was a green house. In that moment, as my lips felt like they were about to freeze and fall off my face, I had never seen anything more beautiful. When we went inside I literally felt like Frosty the snowman, like all the coldness wasn’t merely being warmed out of me, but like it was melting away in that little green haven. So, in conclusion: Green houses in cold climates—very good choice for the cold of spirit.

What really stuck with me on this trip was the trusting spirit of the Norwegian people. Natalie and I used the metro to get to the Nobel Peace Prize Museum, and spent about fifteen minutes trying to figure out how to buy a ticket from a machine which only had directions in Norwegian. Finally, we punched the right buttons and headed towards the train. But here’s the thing: no one ever checked for our tickets. There was not control, not swiping a card, no man controlling who comes and goes. The whole system is based on trust. Despite this, despite the fact that the people of Oslo could easily get away with never buying a ticket, we continued to see Norwegian people walking up to the machine and buying a ticket like it was an everyday occurrence. As an American, I was left in awe of the fact that people like that even existed.

I only spent 36 hours in Norway. I saw the snow, experienced the cold, and met the people. When Natalie and I woke up two hours late, the administrator of the hostel was just as flustered and worried about us missing our flight as we were. I couldn’t help thinking, “I’m so sorry we don’t have more time Oslo!” I wish I could see the countryside. I wish I could come in the spring. I wish I could go tobogganing, I wish I could see Vigeland Park in the day time. That’s an element of the international experience I think, whether it’s a good or bad thing, you’re always left wanting more.

A New Development

2009-12-15T04:26:00.000Z

This morning I woke up at 6 to bring Joe to school. This is sort of a sibling bonding event. I don't have to bring him, I just like to cause you know, I miss him and stuff like that. Evidently Texas is bound and determined to look just like London for all intensive purposes seeing as one can not see beyond the fog and rain. So, Joe and I kind of argued over the radio stations cause thats what we do. Then dropped him off at school.

Heres this new development: Joseph has a girlfriend. We don't know who she is, but he seems to like her a lot if number of text messages is any indication. Anyway, she doesn't have a facebook so we can't stalk her and he hasn't shown us a picture of her except Mom stalked his phone and found one. Anyway, he naturally has to get her a Christmas present which I hear is a difficult thing for a boy to do for a girl--so many choices. So I told him I would bring him to the mall and I wanted mom to join us so we could do a little shopping in the mean time. So out we venture to find a present for this girl, whose name is Anne. Anne's friend, who is a nameless girl, told Joe that Anne would like jewelry from either JCREW or Juicy Couture which I can't even spell, shows what I know. Joseph didn't know that they don't sell jewelry at JCREW until we got there and he immediately realized this so we headed to James Avery.

Now my mom has been making a lot of comments pertaining to this girl including: "Joseph ALOT of people commented on your relationship status on facebook!" and then probably most offensively "Its probably not even going to last that long" which offended Joe, who is in 8th grade. You know how it is. So we get to the store and my mom is giving him advice. I mean, Mom knows a lot about jewelry. He should really lend an ear her way, but he's kind of embarrassed by her comments and would rather listen to me (I know much less about jewelry). So I find this rose necklace that I personally like and show it to Joe. Mom comes over. We ask her what she thinks. I just think the dialogue that followed was hilarious.

Mom: Well I don't know. I don't know this girl. What kind of clothes does she wear. Do you know.

Joe: Yeah, I know.

Mom: Well, what kind?

Joe: I don't know.

Mom: This is a delicate piece of jewelry. Is she delicate?

Joe: (runs boths hands over hair and face in embarrassed frustration) I don't know Mom, delicate isn't even a part of my vocabulary!

Then we went to Cheesecake for dinner. Next we came home. Caroline and I watched country music videos and then me and Joe read A Christmas Carol aloud to each other because he has a test on it tomorrow. It was a good day.

Words Words Words

2009-11-18T23:42:00.000Z

Name the good days, right? Even if nothing happens. Today, the weather was beautiful. Today, we ate at cafe rouge (french..), had a very amusing science class. But most of all today was great because I have been reading poetry (hundreds probably), and I am full of all the pretty words. Even if it was dreary and horrible outside I would love the ambiguity of my feelings. Here we are in London, and every day is great because I'm surrounded by people I enjoy and people I can laugh with and people that I can kind of feel changing me. And everyday I'm sad that this semester will end and the new flock of pepperdiners will come in and be different and corrupt the ground that those who came before walked on and the rooms that they slept in and all that jazz thats oh so jaded. Thats just the way it goes I guess. So here are the poems I now have posted on my bed:

The Leaden-Eyed by Ezra Pound

Let not the young souls be smothered out before
They do quaint deets and fully flaunt their pride.
It is the worlds one crime its babes grow dull,
Its poor are ox-like, limp and leaden-eyed.

Not that they starve, but starve so dreamlessly,
Not that they sow, but that they seldom reap,
Not that they serve, but have no gods to serve,
Not that they die, but that they die like sheep.

Prayer by Carol Ann Duffy

Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So, a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.

Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.

Pray for us now. Grade I piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child's name as though they named their loss.

Darkness outside. Inside, the radio's prayer--
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.

The Horses by Michael Longley

For all the horses butchered on the battlefield,
Shell-shocked, tripping over their own intestines,
Drowning in the mud, the best war memorial
Is in Homer: two horses that refuse to budge
Despite threats and sweet-talk and the whistling whip,
Immovable as a tombstone, their heads drooping
In front of the steamlined motionless chariot,
Hot tears spilling from their eyelinds onto the ground
Because they are still in mourning for Patroclus
Their charioteer, their shiny manes bedraggled
Under the yoke pads on either side of the yoke.

Homage To My Hips by Lucille Clifton

these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in
they don't fit into little
petty placed. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
I have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!

and lastly, Clear Night by Charles Wright

Clear night, thumb-top of a moon, a black-lit sky.
Moon-fingers lay down their same routine
On the side deck and the threshold, the white keys and the
' black keys
Bird hush and bird song. A cassia flower falls.

I want to be bruised by God.
I want to be strung up in the strong light and singled out.
I want to be stretched, like music wrung from a dropped seed.
I want to be entered and picked clean.

And the wind says 'What?' to me.
And the castor beans, with their little earrings of death, say
' 'What?' to me.
And the stars start out on their cold slide through the dark.
And the gears notch and the engines wheel.

First Day In Italy: Thorns and Mud

2009-11-09T14:49:00.000Z

Pictures coming soon! Please check again!

At five o clock this morning Meggan and I left the house. We never went to sleep. We packed. We took showers we did laundry, put our makeup back on, and eventually headed out the door. So began fall break. First came the tube. Then came Liverpool Station. Then the train to Stanstead. It was really all a blur. I bought some books while we waited for our gate to be announced, walked like a zombie to our plane, read three pages of my book (Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian!! Was so excited to find American Novels at the Airport), and then promptly feel asleep for the next three hours.

As we were landing, I woke up and looked out the window to find Italy in all its autumnal wonder. Meggan and I got off the airplane and made our way to baggage claim. First we had to pass through passport check. Evidently Italians have no qualms with allowing Americans in with the mere nod of a head. We found baggage claim with relative ease. There was our bag. Success! Exiting the airport, we found ourselves searched the faces and few signs that congregated on the other side for our names, or anything have to do with the horseback riding adventure we were hoping to attend. Nothing. No one. So we stood there for ten minutes as Italian guys asked us if we needed a ride. No, thank you very much. We have a destination. We have a driver. We have a planned holiday. I hope!

I began to realize how very little planning actually went into the trip. I contacted a woman named Sarah just to ask her whether or not lunches were part of the program listed on the internet and to get any additional information. Basically, she just informed us that it was fun and there would be lots of horseback riding. We were sold. We bought plane tickets and filled out a one page form and faxed it in. Otherwise, we didn’t have to do anything. As I stood in the Ciampino, Airport outside of Rome, I began to think it had been a little too easy. What if the website and that nice woman Sarah had all been fake and there were no horses and this was going to be Taken all over again except real life this time instead of just in the theater. Obviously, I wasn’t panicking on the outside, but I was just the slightest bit worried on the inside.

Luckily though, a woman finally found us. She had on a riding jacket that read Castello di S. Cristina. She led us to the car. The hoof pick that was laying on the floor of the back seat calmed any fears I might have had.

It took 2 and a half hours to get to the Castle. I slept with my face pointed straight up into the air. Meggan says she was talking to our driver, a nice Italian woman with an Australian accent, and would turn back to include me in the conversation and find me asleep in various uncomfortable look positions. I must have looked funny, but she said she couldn’t think of anything but how jealous she was of my ability to sleep. This nice Italian woman had an Italian name that went with her, but right now I can’t remember it. She had lived in Australia for 15 years. For those of you who know what I’m talking about, she was pretty much Moira from McLeod’s Daughters to a tee.

So, we arrived at the Castle, but we didn’t go to the castle right away. First, Moira brought us down to the arena and tack room where there was a series of hitching posts with horses attached to them. There, we met Ewa (pronounced Eva) a blond haired polish girl who would be our trail guide. The next thing on the agenda was our introductory ride, but first we brought our things to our room, which was huge! There was small kitchen, a living area, a large bedroom, and then finally a pretty spacey bathroom. After we changed into riding clothes, Meggan and I headed back down to the arena.

We mounted up. I, on a large dark bay, and Meggan on a pretty robust looking liver chestnut. Then we headed out on a two hour ride. The thing about Tuscany this time of year, evidently, is that it rains a lot. This, at least, is what I’m told. So the track was really quite muddy. We did some walking at first, progressed into a trot, and finally into a canter. My horse, whose name started with a P, but was Italian so I can’t really remember. Anyway, he was pretty fast. Ewa was on a little dapple mount that was slow compared to the honkers we were on. So it was quite a challenge to keep behind her. We managed it pretty well though. The countryside around us was absolutely stunning despite the fact that the sky was overcast.

The highlight of this ride (or at least the first highlight) was when we began to trot up this little slope. At some point, Meggan and Ringo, the liver chestnut, had fallen behind us quite a bit. Ewa and I stopped our horses and looked behind us thinking Meggan would be mounted atop Ringo right behind us. Instead, Ringo was barreling towards us at a pretty good canter bridleless. We found Meggan, in turn, not far behind us running behind him holding the bridle in her hands. As Ringo came barreling towards us I was faced with a decision: to block him in hope that he would stop, or to move out of the way he fear in that he wouldn’t. I moved out of the way. As Ewa and I had our horses standing right beside each other, Ringo squeezed a third into the line nearly taking my leg with him. Thank God for all those times Tordenn or Sonny tried to take my leg out on a fence post. Got pretty good at throwing it up in the air last second to get out of the way. So Ringo didn’t take me with him. Instead, he passed us and went about his business veraciously eating grass. Typical. Meggan explained that he had fallen behind and she had let him canter to catch up. He bucked out a tad in excitement, which she hadn’t expected and fell off. In trying to keep him from running away, she had grabbed at the bridle and accidently pulled it off. We got Ringo back, put the bridle back on, and then kept going.

Not much farther along in the ride the second highlight of the day occurred. Ewa explained to us that there would be a steep hill we would need to canter up. “It goes to the right, then the left, then the right, and then the left again so it’s important you keep the spaces and pay attention where you’re going.” Alrighty then. We had placed Meggan and Ringo back in between Ewa and I thinking that would be a better combination. I had thought that my horse would take a steady canter at a good speed up this hill. Instead, he ended up basically running up in full speed. As we rounded the first turn in the hill, Meggan was up ahead of us and Ringo let out a little buck again. I don’t remember much after that accept that Ringo and I went from booking it up the hill to him stopping abruptly and planting me in a prickly bush. Ewa said yesterday that she will never forget what I looked liked evidently gracefully flying through the air like I was about to do a cartwheel. I managed to keep a hold of the rains, but my landing was so muddy that I couldn’t stand up quick enough to keep my horse from running off. He pulled the rains out of my hand and quickly progressed up the hills. Meggan grabbed him by the stirrup, which was funny cause that wasn’t keeping him from going anywhere. When she realized that was pretty much in vain she let go. Ewa ended up catching him at the top of the hill. Meggan explained to me later that she had stopped Ringo pretty abruptly when he started to crow hop which left my horse with nowhere to go by the prickly thorn bush once we had rounded the corner. Only he didn’t really have to go in that seeing as I could fly in there all on my lonesome. Honest to God though, landing in that mud was the softest fall I’ve ever had. I wasn’t even sore from it the next day, and instead of making things scary it mainly just had an exhilarating effect to the ride, like a loop in the roller coaster. I laughed it off, telling Meggan that it was good that I had fallen since now we are even. It wouldn’t do for only one of us to fall! One fall each on the first day. A great beginning, right? I told Ewa jokingly that we could blame it on our lack of sleep.

We got back, changed into clean clothes dueled with helmet hair and headed to dinner. Dinner was amazing. We were the only people being served because it’s off season and it was a four course meal. With wine. Every meal you have in Italy accept breakfast seems to be served with wine. Every course was delicious. We felt quite spoiled because the cook served us an hour ahead of schedule because they all knew that we had to leave for Standstead so early. Our first night in Tuscany, and we went to bed at 8 o clock, which is 7 o clock London time. We didn’t even talk before bed. Just crashed.

Dear Coffee, please work your wonders...

2009-11-02T20:42:00.000Z

Today has been a very long day, but I don't remember a majority of it.

First, I woke up fifteen minutes before class, started my makeup, went to History and then during the 10 minute break finished my makeup. Directly afterwards, I had Humanities. After Humanities, Hannah and I headed to Paul's to get lunch. I ordered my usual: a goat cheese and sweet pepper panini with a mocha. Accept this time... This time... they asked me if I wanted cream on my mocha!

Now the thing is that I haven't been going to Pauls regularly until just lately. My roommates have been going there for lunch almost everyday for a while, and have been getting coffee there all along. The thing is, I don't really drink that much coffee, but the past week or so I have started to just from pure exhaustion. They have never asked me if I wanted cream before. I thought to myself, "Oh, cream must be a new thing at Paul's," as if they didn't have it before. Then, Hannah informed me the truth. They only offer cream to their regulars! Isn't that so exciting?? I'm a regular now!!

Thats all. I have an essay to write, a English exam to study for, and another essay to write for tomorrow. And I just should probs get at least half of that done in the next four hours. Anyway, just had to get that down.
With lots of love,
Ciao

Two Weeks Notice

2009-11-01T17:39:00.000Z

This past week and a half or so has been so glorious and so sad and so beautiful all wrapped into one. I have found something out in the mean time: I am a horrible blogger. I just can't write fast enough to get everything that has happened down. So, I'm going to try and break it down here.

First of all, Meagan and I went horseback riding in Wimbledon last Thursday,the 22nd. After riding in Hyde Park we were totally ready to be let down, but everything was wonderful. The horses were big (and slow in my case but that seems to always happen to me anyway) and the ride through the park was laden with autumn leaves. There were men walking their hunting dogs through the park. It was picturesque.

Natalie has had a rough couple weeks. This has effected us all, but in a good sort of way. She found out that three people in her life have died, all from different families. One the brother of one of her best friends. He died in a car accident. The kids were toilet papering. This was all going on while Natalie was in a serious funk. Her friends from Florence were in town. Its so hard to see people hurting, and knowing that you can't do anything to fix it. I was hurting for her. She was hurting for her friend because his brother had died, and then we all knew there was nothing really productive we could do about it but give condolences. That and let our friends talk. I guess the best we can do is let them talk it out. It did make me realize I little bit that that sort of thing can actually happen. When we least expect it. When we're having a good time. People get hurt. We're all vulnerable and breakable and temporal. And that's life, but it makes me feel good about being here and going places and taking all the opportunities to live that I can get.

I also had the opportunity to talk to Evanne, Ana, and Tati one night until something atrocious like 4 in the morning. It was soooo good to hear from them. It filled my bucket! We laughed and it felt like a little cyber sleep over. I loved it. I got all filled in on their lives and all the goings on and told them about London. I miss them I miss them I miss them!

The 26th of October was a long awaited day. Hannah, Sonya, Natalie, Amy, Meggan, Emily, and I were all supposed to go to the Brett Dennan concert in Camden. Sadly, Natalie could not join us because she wasn't feeling well. Honestly, she really did need to stay home and have a good sleep and rest up for the busy Halloween weekend she had coming ahead, so I'm glad she did just that. I had never listened to one song by Brett Dennan in my life. Hannah is really the one who listens to him. I went because sometimes its fun to share in another person's excitement for something else, view it in their eyes. That's exactly what I did. It ended up being at a small little venue. We ran into two girls from Texas as we went in as well, so that was super cool. I actually bought the et from the opener on itunes, as well as a few songs from Brett Dennan himself. It was hilarious to see Hannah ewww and aww as Brett shook his hips in this funky little way. Honestly, the dude looks a little nerdy. When he first started gyrating, I couldn't help thinking, "He's not allowed to do this!" But by the end of the night, I was feeling his soul, and the funky little slide/shuffle/thrust jig he had going on had picked up an element of sexuality. I was exhausted before we even got there--I fell asleep on the tube, which I had not done to do. It was a Monday after all, but I got excited at the concert and am truly glad I went.

One thing that has really hit home the past couple weeks is that as fabulous as Christmas break will indefinitely be, it will also be bitter sweet. We will be losing our people! I feel like they're my people now. Nathan, Tim O', and Bob will be leaving us. You have no idea how much this pains me. Nathan always has something witty and hilarious to say. He's extremely intelligent on top of that. If no one else in the class knows the answer to a question, you can always trust Nathan to pipe up and answer without being too conceded about it. I might have killed A.J. in a few of the past few house church sessions if Nathan wasn't there to even it out. Nathan just has a way of giving me warm fuzzies/illuminating things in a way that makes it easier to understand. Now, Nathan will definitely be missed, and I cannot imagine the house without him, but at least we've seen it coming. We've all known all along that he was only staying for first semester. Then, a couple weeks ago we found out that Bob was considering going home next semester. This was just a bit heart breaking. I cannot imagine the house without Bob's happy in the kitchen face. I cannot imagine the lounge without him sprawled out on the couch watching Arrested Development and laughing every chance he gets. Bob makes everybody in the house feel good because he gets excited for you. The decorations for Halloween--they're not just good they're GREAT. Why? Because there are balloons! My chili, for instance, my chili isn't just good it is amazing, its out of this world. I can't imagine this house without Nathan and Bob singing as they walk down the streets of London--whatever song comes into their heads and being quite impressed with themselves when they harmonize. Nevertheless, Bob decided that he needed to go home to get enough credits to graduate in four years. It was sad to hear of his decision, but at least it wasn't a shot out of the dark. Then there's Tim. Tim is just the salt of the earth. Its so great to meet people who have a gift for being nice to everyone without being fake. He just really means it. I sat beside Tim on the plane on the way here. He just seemed so open. He wants to get to know people and let them get to know him. Sit with him long enough and he'll tell you about his favorite poem or show you his favorite videos from childhood on youtube. We found out that Tim O' was leaving on Thursday night. I came back from seeing Chicago with Katie Webb, Amy, and Jazmyne, feeling a little down. I mean, it was great to spend time with them, and it was fun to go to a show, it was my first musical in London, but it just didn't compare to Broadway. Here is a pic of all of us together

I was so tired after the show, came in around midnight, went into the kitchen for some water and then headed up to my room. Tim O' had been in the kitchen and then he met me on our floor and told me that he won't be coming back next semester. There are many reasons for this, and I totally understand. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. Its just that it was such a shot in the dark. I hadn't thought that Tim would leave at all and then to learn that it was official and we would be losing another one of guys just pained me so much. Then Tim O' came into our room to talk with us and kind of lessen the blow to our hearts. But i just couldn't get over it. We will be getting a few more new guys next year, but I know that they just won't be able to compare. I'm sure we will be friends with them and that it will be fine, but I will still miss Bob, Tim O', and Nathan so so much for each of their individual and unique attributes that they bring to the house. I guess the thing is that I want to get to know everyone really well and I feel like this cuts everything short, like I won't get to know who they really are well enough. I don't know. I had to leave our room and go to the lounge, listen to sad country music songs, and look up realty and barns online to make myself feel better. So you know, it was bad. I did find my dream barn though. Here's a pic:

I was so sad, I couldn't sleep until four in the morning again. I just kept telling myself, "Tomorrow will be a new day. Tomorrow will be a new day." Finally I got to sleep, and its true. I remember thinking that the next day was a serious improvement. Haha, now I remember. It was! We went to a little area quite a ways from the house to buy costumes for Halloween. Tim O', Natalie, Sonya, and I took the bus for about 30 minutes to our destinations. I have never been a fan of Halloween. I've never enjoyed dressing up and all that jazz, not since I was little. But this store inspired me. It was jam packed with people. I lost Natalie in the crowd many times and then ended up calling for her over the masses of British heads. Natalie and I became inspired. Props are fabulous things, I have decided.

After we had our costumes all figured out and bought, we headed to Oxford Circus for Michelle Barnum's birthday party. Michelle is our RA and she's totally great. We all love having her around. She gets along so well with everyone so it was great to celebrate her life! Anyway, her birthday party was at this ice cream bar that was like a Lady Gaga Club. Some of the ice cream was alcohol and all of it was pretty superb. The pistachio ice cream actually tasted like pistachio. I thought that was pretty impressive. We headed back to the house after that. I had a little bit of bonding time with Mariesa and Katie Webb out by the urn in the garden later that night. We talked and it was great.

Then, it was Halloween... Halloween was quite a production at the London house. I made chili, Mom's "Texas Stew" for 40 people, and it was the first time I had made it. I was quite proud of myself. It was a total hit. It took me four hours to make (we grated quite a bit of cheese to go with it), but totally worth the work to see Selin licking the big bowls we cooked with in with cheese when it was basically all gone.

First, we went on the jack the ripper tour, which honestly paled in comparison to the ghost tour in Edinburgh, but was still definitely worth it. As we walked around East London, checking out all the places where prostitutes had been murdered, back allies and the like, we all became quite cold. I was in short sleeves. Lovely Mariesa lent me her black scarf which has certainly become my good friend. Anyway, a few of us ended up linking arms. And then the chain of linking arms grew until it was Me, Natalie, Sonya, Tim O', and Bob. Bob was the last to join and the one that decided we would stay linked together NO MATTER WHAT as we went through East London, which is not exactly the safest part of London. Anyway, we came up with many different tactics on how to best stay with our arms linked together including the horseshoe, side stepping, and flying V. It was quite amusing.

Lastly we headed back to the house, changed into our costumes, had chili, and played many fun games. Natalie and I dressed up together. We were outback women. Here are some pics of the night. We carved pumpkins, had chili, popcorn, cookies, and candy, shaved some water balloons on top of people's heads (one on my head), and ate caramel apples hung from strings. Natalie and AJ planned the whole thing, and I must admit they did a very good job. The decorations were fabulous. Here are some pictures.

Natalie and I. The powerful duo. Notice the chili in hand. It was a huge hit.

Those balloons are filled with water. At this point Jazmyne is shaving my balloon. Tim, on the far right is going all Sweeney Todd on Hannah's balloon.

At this point, AJ has taken over shaving my balloon. He's about to break the razor trying to cut my balloon. Easier said than done, alot harder than you would imagine.

So yeah, we got into it.

Here we are trying to bite into the Carmel apples without using our hands. Some really gross pictures of me are on facebook because of this event. Worth the laugh though. Notice I'm wearing the cowgirl boots. Thanks for sending them Mom!

Here we have Bob (Liam Gallagher, from the band Oasis) and Nathan (Billy Mays). And you're right in thinking (if you are) that Billy Mays was not that fat. Bob was in character the whole night, complete with a few vulgar comments characteristic to Liam Gallagher (so I'm told) and Nathan was heard to utter, "The power of oxi-clean," more than once through out the night, and also threatened to spill something on us as an example as well. Oh, and he had a fake packet of cocaine seeing as Billy Mays was a user. Btw, that's not Bob's hair. However, that is Nathan's beard. Haha, lost razor?

Right here we have Patrick and Tim Nguyen (Asian tourists! one of my favorites!), Sonya and Tim O' (Mariachi Band members, another good one).

Here we have Tim (asian tourist), Mariesa (dead bride), Michelle Fields (flight attendent) and Patrick (asian tourist).

It was a great night. I'm so glad it went so well. I can only hope that our snake pumpkin might win in the jack-o-lantern competition.

Today, I slept in. I sat in the lounge writing this while the boys watched football. I attended Alex's Birthday party. He turned 3!!! I went to dinner with Bob and Natalie, found a fabulous new Italian place that has been right in front of us this whole time. Get this, its named Pizza and Pasta! Can you believe that? Had some good conversations and the like. But the best part of my day. by far. was Bob and Tim Nguyen's fight in the lounge. Bob is a sports fan. Evidently Tim is a sports fan as well, but I honestly wouldn't have thought it? Anyway, Tim turns on a football game--the niners. He watches it for a little while. I'm sitting in the corner. Bob comes in pumped to watch the Jets game. Tim informs him that he can't because Tim is watching the niners. Sadness. Tim informs Bob he can go into the Law student lounge to watch the jets if he wants. Bob does so. Then, Bob opens the doors that connect to the law lounge about ten minutes later. Tim is watching commercials. Bob kind of marches up to the TV and starts pressing the equivolent of an input button. Tim starts to get really quite hot and bothered about this. Granted, it seemed that Bob wasn't exactly asking permission as he was already pissed that Tim wouldn't let him watch the Jets game. Tim stands up and kicks the chair for dramatic affect, tossing off the things in his lap into the floor. Then, he heads over to Bob standing in front of the tv and gets in his face, arms flairing and the like. I hadn't expected it, but Bob gives it right back to him! I felt like I shouldn't be there. Tims like, "Bob you can't just walk over me like this," and all this other stuff getting in his face. In the mean time, Bob keeps calling Tim Buddy and telling him, "Shut the fuck up! Just cool off!" Cause evidently Bob just wanted to check the program directory to see what channel the game was coming on. Anyway, they had like a full fledged fight, minus the fists of course. Bob eventually left the room, and Tim was left smoldering in his chair. Not gonna lie, witnessing the whole things kind of made my day.
If you've read all of this, you are a saint.
With all kinds of love,
Ciao

Self-explanatory

2009-10-23T14:20:00.000+01:00

Today, my professor told me I might be dyslexic. On this fine friday morning he called me in to talk about the inclass paper that I wrote, and told me that I did fine but my spelling is atrocious. "I mean it really is." He said. And then continued to tell me I was probably dyslexic. All of this in an Irish accent. Great.

Greece Day 4-

2009-10-18T18:57:00.001+01:00

Our fourth day in Greece was spent on a over romanticized ferry turned cruise boat. On this boat, we visited the Greek Islands of Hydra, Poros, and Aegina. Honestly, each of these islands felt like a complete day unto itself, so I may have a difficult time keeping the narration of this whole complete day short.

This was the best day of the entire trip, but it started so early that many of us could not get excited about the water, the wind, and the view. For instance, take a look at this picture.

Jazmyne and I went up to the top of the boat for a little while where we bought hot chocolate that even came with a little ginger snap cookie that was just lovely. It took 2 and half hours for dus to arrive at the first island which was called Hydra. During this time I talked to some people, lost my book (left it on a table on the top deck where it could have easily flown into the ocean), and then tried to play ERS with a group of people consisting of Mariesa, Katie Webb, and Jordan Smoak (we like to call him Young Smoak or the Tennessean). It was on this particular day that I learned something about Young Smoak. He is very competitive about his card games. I will probably never play ERS with him again for fear of bruising.

When we got off the ferry at Hydra we were surrounded by classic Greek beauty. The water in the port was clear, the shops and houses surrounding us were quaint, and everything was picturesque. There were cats everywhere. When we got off the boat, the cruise organizer fed a large group of cats some catfood. The Greeks really respect their animals. The fishermen through the smaller fish in their catch to the cats as well. They fought over their finds.

First, Mariesa took a picture of Katie web and I. Here it is.

The thing about this picture is that as it is being taken I am planting my buttocks in a crater in the concrete there. A crater filled with water. So, I had wet underwear the rest of the day. Lovely.

So, I want you to imagine for a second. Mariesa, Katie, and I are walking towards the shops taking in the beauty of our surroundings when what do we see? We see donkeys. With tables on top of them. Donkeys that you can pay to ride. A euro a minute. TOTALLY worth it. We paid, and don't you know it, the other people on our trip took pictures. They are such total saints.

From left to right that is Mariesa, being very elegant in her dress and waving at the peasants in the crowd, me, and Katie, rocking the running shorts/boat shoes texas combo. Let me tell you something. This picture was totally worth the money.

After our relazing ride through up the hill we came down and went in some shops. I bought some lovely presents and a ring for myself. I've decided that I'll buy a ring from each place I'll go and then I'll be able to remember each place and its style from that ring. I haggled so well that I got a 99 euro ring for 35.

Then Katie Webb and I split a pizza and had some hot cocoa at a cafe on the water. After an hour and a half, we got back on the boat and headed towards the next island.

What did we do on the way? We played presidents. But not Texas Presidents, which I am used to and I believe powns all other forms of presidents, but these new rules made the game interesting even though I resented it a little bit. I played with Mariesa, Katie Webb, Victoria, Bob, and Jordan. Bob had recently found out that while I was a little tipsy the other night, I professed that he was cute because he is always very happy in the kitchen, and this is true, I've never seen anyone else look so contented making eggs. My roommates told him. Roommates are always traitors when it comes to the slightly funny/embarrassing things that we all say. Anyway, we all played. It was a bonding experience. I think we played on every level of the bus. The hardest level being the top as it was open air and we were all scrambling to keep the cards from blowing away. Yes, we are awesome.

We got off at the next island, Poros, where there were signs everywhere about the clock tower. Naturally, we had to check this clock tower out, it just seemed so popular. So we climbed the stairs up there. We get to the top, and theres the clock tower! Yay! The view really was great though. On the way back down, we stopped to check out some postcards. There were quite a few of completely naked women on the islands. I'll never forget Jazmyne saying, "What did that become alright?? When did that become alright??" Over and over again. Hilarious. So, what did we did with our left over time on the island? We played cards by the water. What else? Here are some actions pics, and one posing pic so you can feel like you were there with us.

Then we got back on the boat and played some more cards which was lovely. Then, we got off at the third island of Aegina. This third island was full or shops and little cafes where the managers would stand outside and try to coerce you to come in and try their food or look at their menu which looked pretty much just like all the other menus. Mariesa, Jazmyne, Katie Webb, and I were walking around checking everything out (passed up the chance to take an ATV), and ended up running into Sonya, Nathan, Bob, and Emily. We sat down at a cafe that I felt had good vibes and had dinner with a beautiful view of the mountains and the harbor.

Greece Day 3--The Shimmy and Shake

2009-10-18T17:27:00.000+01:00

Today we took a bus to Corinth which is about an hour and a half away. We went to the anthropological dig of the old Agora where it is believed that Paul would speak to the Corinthians. After walking around the museum and the site, and having lunch nearby (where we fed some very hungry looking dogs afterward) we headed up to the fortress that resides at the Acrocorinth. But first, here is a pic of Natalie and I at the restaurant.

In otherwords, this fortress is on top of a Mountain bigger than all the mountains in the area. The steps are made of marble leading up. For your information, marble can be very very slippery. I’m proud to say that I didn’t fall, but to be honest I was more interested in nonchalantly checking out the lower parts of the fortress than I was in climbing to the top of both of the peaks. It was so classic fortress. So Lord of the Rings. There were those skinny look out things for archers and dungeon looking things and the view was epically amazing. But A.J. didn’t plan on taking things in in this fashion. A.J. had different plans.

We had an hour to spend at the fortress, but we took the first 30 minutes very slowly, going inside a chapel that’s basically ancient where you can light candles and the like. Then suddenly A.J. decided that it was absolutely necessary to bound our way up to the peaks, that’s right, both separate peaks, in the amount of time that we had left. I’m really quite proud to say that we did it. And when we got to the top the wind was so strong it could have knocked us off our feet, but the feeling of that wind, and the exhalation I had from running up the hill was worth it. And then there was the view: we could see the ocean and everything around. Something like being king of the mountain.

Then we took the bus home, dropping some people off at the Corinth Canal to bungee jump. After an less than pleasant jump from a bride at Lake LBJ this summer, I was a little less than interested in Bungee jumping. Maybe next time. When we arrived at the hotel, I took an absolutely amazing and well needed nap.

Tonight we went to a Greek Place that didn’t serve good Greek food (which I think is a rarity in Greece), but they have good reason for this. First of all, it was a tourist attraction—native dancing, singing (in many different languages), and more “native dancing.” Everyone got dressed up to go. I will admit that I put on makeup and braided my hair. One of the girls in our group had on a gown. They were looking pretty serious about this whole dancing business. So we walk to the restaurant which is in the Plaka. I’m still a little bit confused as to what the Plaka means, but I believe it is a marketplace. There are all kinds of stores and large dogs running around. Suddenly, the walkway is filled with people speaking different languages and it seems that we have arrived. We walk in and are seated right beside the stage. The Chinese were there, the Japonese, and the Germans for sure. I’m pretty sure that all the people who dressed up felt like their actions were for naught.

Here are the highlights of the night:

The Greek dancing begins which involves the women twirling so their skirts fill with air and the men hitting there legs and kicking their feet up in the air and then hitting their feet. I really really enjoyed this. Also, part of this involved two men dancing with knives. Very reminiscent of crossing “swords.”
There was a belly dancer. But not just any belly dancer—a woman of middle-age and plenty of body fat who seemed to be having a very good time doing the splits and rolling her fat. Her bikniesque top clasped tightly to raise her very not there breasts up three inches.The best part of this was watching our directors face light up with a certain amount of held back disgust. Also, Caleb and Alex are four and two. They looked intrigued.

Above, you'll see the belly dancer. And below, you'll see Sonya, David, and A.J.'s reactions. All quite different. If you knew them, you would find this funner.

The food was horrible. My chicken had no chicken on it. Neither did anybody elses.

Luckily, we got gelato afterwards, and luckily we’re on our own for dinner the rest of the week

Greece Day 2 - This Is A Marble Town

2009-10-18T13:16:00.000+01:00

Its been almost a week since my second day in Greece on October 12, 2009, but we were just so busy down there touring museums and different acroaeropolis thingies that I didn't get around to writing about it. God knows, after such an exciting week I need to record something! First, I'd like you to look at the picture above. To be honest, Athens is not very pretty up close. I mean, some of the ruins look like true endeavors of might, but the city itself is made up of architecture that is lacking in taste. Its like, if London is an expensive antique dining room table that's nicely put together to last forever, the kind my grandmother would buy, then Athens is the table my dad would make out of ply wood. Practical and cheap, but not especially ascetically pleasing. Then you look at Athens from far away, and it looks like one of Heather Piccione's bathrooms--all done up in mother of pearl.

This is a pic of Natalie, Me, and Amy from left to right at the Parthenon.

We started out day out by climbing to the top of the Acropolis, which was conveniently right behind our hotel. Once we got to the top we were shown the sights by our Greek tour guides. I also found myself wishing that I had worn shorts instead of the leggings and shirt/dress thing I had on just because it felt so summery and light that I wanted to feel that way. Anyway, while we were up there, we saw some interesting things. Other than the marble (turns our the Greeks really love their marble) we also saw Greek soldiers dressed up in their traditional uniforms from when they were in conflict with the Turks. These are funny little outfits involving little balls at the tips of their tows and skirts that puff out like a ballerinas.

It turned out that these soldiers were dressed up in such a manner, carrying their guns and everything, because the new Prime Minister of Greece was coming to speak seeing as it was a National Holiday. Natalie managed to acquire

a totally awesome pic of the Prime Minister despite the fact that he was kind of hard to find in the chaos that was the men/body guards around him.

After that we went down to Mars Hill where Paul gave his sermons to the Athenians. We ran into an elderly couple there who had forgotten their bibles. So Natalie and I read them the verses from Acts 17. They were totally adorable and elderly and shared their testimony and everything. Then, we headed to the Agora of the old town in Athens which is basically where the ruins of the shops and marketplace is from Ancient Times. Right on and beside the Ruins there is all kind of graffiti placed there by the locals. We walked through this area and into the modern market place where we ate Slouvaki (sp) which was delicious.

This is also the day that the Lovely Hannah Perrin fell down the stairs and sprained her foot. That's right, the morning of our first full day in Greece. Poor Hannah. We couldn't help but chant, "She fell ov-a." After the fall was all said and done. So, while we were meant to be touring the market, which I did, Natalie and Meggan took Hannah back to the Hotel so she wouldn't have to suffer the walk to the next museum.

While I was touring the shops with a few friends, a few things happened. First, I was yelled out by a Greek woman for trying to haggle. I thought haggling was common place in the little flea marketesque shops, but evidently she disagreed yelling at me that I wouldn't find them cheaper anywhere else and so on and so forth. Well, they were only 7 euros, I'm aware, but I didn't want to pay full price if I could haggle and then I didn't want to pay for them at all after she yelled at me. Next, we found a place that had Nutella gelato which made me immensely happy.

Next we had to walk 20 minutes or so to the Museum. Evidently this was truly a museum to see. Could have fooled me. We were all so tired by this point from climbing over marble and standing on our feet all day long that we could care this about this museum where we had to spend even more time standing. It was cool though that had a modern jewelry exhibit throughout the museum to show how ancient jewelry had influenced the present.

After we had been walked through the museum we were free to go, but Natalie, Sonya and I really had to go to the bathroom. The bathroom was between the 2nd and 3rd floor. We were so tired, we took the elevator to the 3rd floor so we only had to walk down. So, we do our business in the stalls. Natalie and I finish first and we go up to the sink to wash our hands, but there is no nobs to turn the spicket on and now censor to be found. So here I am waving my hand in the sink looking for a censor and it turns on! I wash my hands and all is well and good. So then Natalie tries the same, with no luck over and over again. I stand in front of the sink and wave my hands and it works, but the second I moved out of the way for her to use it, it would stop. It seriously felt like some one was trying to play a giant trick on us. Extremely frustrating. Then Sonya comes out of her stall and she starts trying to turn it on too with no luck, while I continue to turn the spicket on. Finally, this Greek woman who could not speak English came out of her stall. I was certain she could hear us laughing and scuttling about as she was doing her business so she looked at us a little strangely. Then she pointed at our feet. Right there on the floor there was a little button that we were went to push to activate the water! So simple! We would have figured it out too if it hadn't worked for me so many times. Evidently, in my frustration that the water was not working, I had cocked my hip and put my foot a little bit to the side. You know, attitude position. As a result, the water kept working. Funny stuff!

One important thing that we learned about Greece: There are dogs everywhere here. They walk the street/cross the streets on their own just like humans and sleep at different places like homeless people. I mean, there are dogs that live in the Parthenon, what an epicly cool life? Then, if they are feeling like a little fun, they go up and bark, run after the cars at the street until the cars stop because of a traffic light. That is what two dogs were doing while we were walking back to our hotel. I was so scared they were going to get hit and I was going to have to watch or be splattered by their blood. I mean, I'm a really big dog person, so their death would be horrible as is, but right there beside me would be even worse. I think they find it satisfying because they believed they stopped the cars themselves because they are strong, powerful dogs who are well listened to. They bit the tires of the cars as the cars pass quite quickly. Luckily, they didn't get hit. It was funny though, because we were whistling at them and telling them to stop, but they are independent street dogs, they don't have to listen. They can die and bark if they like. Survival of the fittest I guess, but I'll admit I'm a little bit jealous of their way of life.

When I got back to the Hotel, Jasmyne and Mariesa, my roommates for the week were out like a light. They stayed like that for at least two hours. So when they woke up, around 8, we went for dinner at the Placa, which is like the old town area that has shops and restaurants. We ate at this totally adorable restaurant that had couchlike table and chairs. We even had Nutella Crepes at the end! I totally enjoyed their company and getting to know both of them. In fact, it was probably my favorite part of this whole trip--getting to know all the people. After that, we went home and went to bed with full stomachs and tired feet.

They Say Aristotle Was Enlightened

2009-10-11T19:43:00.000+01:00

Today, we began our journey to Greece. I personally begun it after 3 hours of sleep. Mcleod's Daughters really is getting the best of me. We boarded a coach at 9 this morning, and had it not been for our very energetic bus driver, I probably would have been asleep. But alas, this particular bus driver had a CD mix which he really enjoyed sharing with his passengers. It was a two tier bus, and so although we could not see the man, he was down below blinking the lights above to go along with the music. Needless to say, this was a very good beginning for our journey.

We arrived at the airport which is when, for whatever reason, I became ecstatic about traveling. I'm not really sure why, but I think it was the sunglasses. I will admit to anyone reading this that I lost my sunglasses (or rather someone took them from me at Classic Hair by the Randall's), and I miss them very much. So, there were sunglasses, and multiple stores to buy them in, and some of them were even on sale, and they were all tax free. And we were headed to Greece!! Where it is sunny! And where I would be needing sunglasses. But I held back, because I booked a trip to Italy last night, and I figure you have to choose between these things.

Then there was the flight, in which I fell asleep. Then there was the bus ride, where we were informed by our trip planner a few of the wonders of Greece, including that it is only illegal not to have a motor bike helmet, but it is not illegal not to wear said helmet, therefore, we may see Grecians running around holding their helmets as they drive instead of wearing them. Yay, sounds so safe.

The travel company we are using is called Aristotle Travel which I find oh so fitting seeing as we are in Greece. Our homework for the week is basically touring Athens and the islands around Corinth with said tour group. I suppose we might be enlightened. Our only homework is to write an essay after this week. I love that I get credit for traveling. I love that Pepperdine believes that this experience is worth it.

So far Greece is beautiful. Its dark, but we can see the Acropolis all lit up right from our hotel. We went and checked out the street shops, and I am inspired to buy so many people presents and send so many people postcards so please be expecting this!

Here is a picture of Natalie and I on our first night! I love her!

Well, the adventures of Greece have only just begun, but I thought it appropriate to check in and notify all/no-one/the internet cosmos of my arrival.

With all kinds of love,
Ciao

When there is Popcorn..

2009-10-10T14:57:00.000+01:00

Ok, the past few days can be summed up in one word: sleeping.

I know, this is very sad. Its just that a lot has been going on with Evanne, and I've been talking to other people on Skype and worrying about my grandma so my nights haven't ended until around 4 AM. The other reason that my nights have been lasting so long is because I have discovered that I can watch McLeod's Daughters online! So this has resulted in some late nights of catching up with Jodie, Kate, Stevie, Alex, Riley, Matt (who was once Rob but is now Matt). Anyway, needless to say this is a little bit sad, but that show just gives me such good vibes, like I'm 13 again. Its fantastic. Needless to say, some pretty serious drama has been going on. My roommates can hear me laughing and awwwing into the wee of the night.

Yesterday began fabulously at 2:45 in the afternoon. I woke up and held out on eating until 6. Meggan, Nathan, Emily and I went to the Crepe place where I had a delicious Chicken Tandoori crepe followed by an even more delicious Nutella crepe. After that I headed back to the house, running into Hannah on the way who informed me that they were going to see Zombieland and I should come along.

Now, for the record, it had been a very long time since I had attended a movie. Months in fact, so my excitement was quite copious. I'll give you a rundown of the whole group: Natalie, Hannah, Sonya, Nathan, AJ, Bob, and Jordan, and myself. Notice, the 50/50 ratio we had going on last night. Half males, half females. Very special.

We took the bus, which turned out to be silly because its just a 20 minute walk or so away. ZOMBIELAND WAS AMAZING. It was so funny because there were only Americans and we felt truly American watching it. It was the perfect movie for our homesickness. If you haven't seen it yet, I must declare that you should see it as soon as possible! And laugh and laugh and laugh for me.

So, the movie ended and we left, as is typical. We were having that after movie high, you know when the movie is just so good that you can't stop laughing and you're just plain happy. We were talking about it, repeating our favorite lines and everything when something extremely extremely embarrassing happened to me. If you would like to get Natalie's perspective on my embarrassing moment you may follow the link to her blog, London Calling, however, I will also painfully narrate out my perspective.

Nathan handed me the popcorn.

I've decided that I can blame all of the following events on that one fact and therefore on Nathan. So, he handed me the popcorn. I hadn't had any during the movie so I took a bite, but you know, popcorn can be a difficult thing to eat because unless you just eat one little puff of popcorn at a time it can just get everywhere, as I'm very sure you are aware. So I was tilting my head back a little to better consume this popcorn while my other hand was holding the bag. Just as I was doing this, we began to walk through a little courtyard.

It just so happened that there were around 35 people in this courtyard, about our age, smoking and drinking and what name so the courtyard was feeling a little sketch, and the people in it were kinda staring us down. There was this moment where one of the guys sitting there smoking said to us, "You know the gate is locked" meaning that we could not cut through the courtyard as a shortcut to our house.

And just after he said this, I took a step using my foot which was encased by Natalie's boot. Natalie wears a 9 and a half shoe. Granted, these shoes are quite tight on her feet, but they are still quite big on my own. So when Natalie's shoe hit a slick area where the mud from the rain had kind of sloshed over onto the concrete of the sidewalk I lost traction. And started to fall. The kind of falling that I could have kept myself from doing had I not had that stupid bag of popcorn in my hand and had I been looking where I was going instead of tilting my head up to receive the popcorn into my mouth, and had I not been wearing Natalie's very attractive but over sized boots. If I had only been wearing my own traction resilient boat shoes. If only. If only.

The point is that I wiped out. I mean REALLY wiped out. And synchronized with my fall was the flamboyant flying of copious amounts of popcorn. Popcorn everywhere. And the 35 odd delinquents (I will call them this, thank you very much) around us laughed in that jeering sort of I hate their guts way. You know, the way in middle school when you're in the 6th grade and you drop your tray in front of the 8th graders and they laugh at you and in no way with you. It was embarrassing. If fact, it was mortifying.

At the exact moment that I was falling/had fallen, Nathan, as I know now, reached out his hand to help me up, but you see, I didn't see his hand at all, and so it was kind of suspended in the air and he realized I didn't see it so he just bolted out of the courtyard. Obviously, Nathan in that split second was faced with a decision: fight or flight, and he made the ABSOLUTE best decision. The rest of us were still left to decide. A very big part of me wishes that Nathan had wisked me out of that horrid horrible place, but no, I was left there.

Of course, I laughed it off as best I could. I got up, no harm to my body done whatsoever, and looked at my friends who were just about as dumbfounded as me. Now, I had the natural instinct to cuss out all of these people and let them know what total bastards they were, failures of humanity, bullies, low lifes, you know just total wretches, but I didn't. It took a lot of energy not to, as I stood there with my empty bag of popcorn and muddied jeans. Natalie, had the same look on her face. Outrage mixed with pity. In fact, all of my friends looked like they didn't know what to do.

Then, this girl comes running up. She was a pretty skeezy looking girl as well. She says to me, "Oh my gosh that was so embarassing are you okay oh my gosh they're laughing at you." And I'm thinking, no shit sherlock, would you please piss off. The thing was, she really caught us offguard. I mean, really. Then she acted like she wanted to start a conversation. "Oh my gawd are you all American I am too! I'm from Las Vegas." Obviously she was not American. She was stupid and British and intoxicated. But we are all quite glad she came because Natalie and I were about to tear into the Britsh people in that stupid effing courtyard, which probably wouldn't have turned out well seeing as we were quite outnumbered and Nathan had already scampered into oblivian.

So we got out of there. In a hurry. Leaving a flourish of popcorn behind. And also leaving behind a group of British people chanting, yes, CHANTING I tell you, "She fell ov-a. She fell ov-a. She fell ov-a." Evidently the British people have an unending amount of chants and they will pull them out and use them on you when you least predict or want a chant. I tell you, it was one for the books. Painful, but definitely funny. As we were leaving a guy from across the street came over pissed off at all of them for being so mean to me and that did make me feel a little bit better because he was hot. Haha.

After exiting, Bob turned to me and asked, "How DID you fall??"

Wow, epic fail. Thats all I have to say to myself.

The Thee-a-ta and Other Dramas

2009-10-07T22:19:00.000+01:00

Its been a few days, and the truth is we have a lot to go over.

First of all, this past weekend was absolutely no fun at all because we had a science essay due on Monday morning for Prof Monks. The hitch is, I have never written a science essay before, and (although my professors never really realize it) most of my essays are filled to the brim with my own personal BS/ alot of frill, and frill does this wonderful thing--its takes up space. Also, he told us this paper would need to be at least six pages, but then we found out that the paper is ACTUALLY BIGGER in London. This, I cannot believe. What is the UK trying to prove? I mean really. So 2 and a half british pages in, I realized I was done talking about Stonehenge, having run out of things to say. So i moved on to the Mayans, and then when I ran out of that, I went on to the first Man on the Moon. Yeah, thats right. Needless to say, I have no idea how I did on that paper. I was sick with a horrible cold, on meds, and going crazy and dreaming about Druids at name. Very glad its over.

Tuesday was a very good day because we went to the theater. I wore my new dress that Evanne bought me which was just lovely, but also more booby than I had originally thought when leaving the house. At the theater, I sat beside Patrick and Natalie. Patrick is a guy that is in the London program who i don't speak to that often, but he cooks in the kitchen alot and seems nice enough. For the purpose of you better being able to picture Patrick, he is Asian and wear sort of urban looking clothing. Anyway, the play was called The Black Album and it was really quite good. I enjoyed it alot. It was about a Pakistanian college student who was living in London when the book, The Satanic Verses was Published and the uproar it caused in London and in his life. Anyway, there is this pretty steamy scene in the play, and we were sitting in the front row which made it seem even steamier. Actually, it was quite a weird scene. So i have my arms cross and my hands kinda tight, and then i decide to kinda stretch my fingers, who knows why, at which point I accidenly ended up just light kind of touching Patricks hand (I think) as his arms were also crossed. So, Patrick may think that I was trying to make a move on him during the play when two characters were going at it. My roommates and I cannot get over how funny we think this is.

Tuesday was also a fabulous day because I discovered that Mcleod's daughters is on the internet, and I can watch all the episodes FOR FREE. This excites me so much. I cannot even express. My life is now a happy place where australian accents can always be accessed as well as that oh so sweet them song, "

Today, was my birthday. It was just great, thanks to my roommates who have really made London into all the great things that it is. Emily woke up and went through out the house whereever there was a dry erase board or bathroom mirror writing "Happy Birthday Alanna!" Amy wrote an absolutely adorable little card to me. Then, I took a nap, which you know REALLY made my day. When I woke up, Natalie, Hannah, and Amy were all standing at the foot of my bed. With present. Hannah gave me a card with my own personal pray written inside. Then she gave me Nutella and a cookie. THEN Hannah gave me a cookie. I may be getting who gave me which cookies and Nutella mixed up, but the point is, that it was an amazing order of presents, and also they are feeding my addiction.

I'm going to take a minute now to describe Amy, because Amy is really an amazing person and everyone should know her because she will crack you up. Amy used to sit in front of me in religion before I really knew her at all. And well, the biggest thing I remember about her was that she must have been just as bored in religion as me as she spent the whole class looking at Ann Taylor clothes online. And its true, all of her clothes are from Ann Taylor. Its a love affair. Amy is from Alabama, she is of pale complexion with a lovely peachy glow and she is one of the most radiant people I have ever met. I mean really, Amy exudes all of kinds of happiness. Shes also got that fabulous Southern sass I miss when I'm away so much. We listen to country together and she understands why I get teary eyed when I listen to "Big Green Tractor" so its obvious that we were meant to be friends.

Tonight, we went to Byrons for dinner. In the rain. Did you know it rains a lot in London? We are just now finding out. The lack of sunshine makes me want to nap, also. Anyway, we walked in the rain to Byrons which is pretty darn far away. Byron's is an American burger place which kinda made it the perfect place for me to go on my birthday. Someone in the group told them it was my birthday and so they brought me a burger with a candle in the bun and all 45 people attending the dinner from the London Program sang me Happy Birthday in the restauant. It was a little embarrassing, but totally worth it.

After dinner, we came back and it was time for linen exchange and room checks. Each week the London house has a competition for cleanest room, and the people with the cleanest room get to pick out a movie to go into the collection of movies at the house. Our room was a mess. Like a total wreck with something smelly in the trashcan, but me and Emily cleaned it all up. The others had to study. It was one of those things where we got motivated to clean at the last minute. Emily and I had the room smelling all lemony and fresh when Jordan and Michelle (our RAs) came in to check things out. I told them a joke, which is part of the criteria, and then they came back a few minutes later saying that we won! It may have been a little biased seeing as it was my birthday today, but it was still good news. I chose L.A. Confidential as our movie. Yes Meagan, when I watch it you will be with me in spirit, and I will ogle Russell Crowe in his youth and wish he were mine. Anyway, YAY ROOM SIX!!

Lastly, I would like to take a moment to honor my very best friend Ana Messina. (Meagan, you are my other very best friend) She is still at Pepperdine, living it up in Malibu with Evanne and Freddy and her twin sister, Tati. I miss her like the sun misses the moon, which is, of course, a very great deal. Oh Ana, how I miss your shade! Anyway, Ana is the only person who will read poetry out loud with me, and also perform short two person plays with me. We think about life and relationships in very similar ways, and we like to contemplate it all, don't we? We have been writing letters to each other, well novels really, and it has been all kinds of fun. I miss her and can't wait to see her over Christmas.

Now, I'm going to take a much needed shower. Meggan is making Apple Crisp in the Kitchen, and I think it should be done quite soon. Maybe I'll even get to watch an episode of McLeod's daughters before its all said and done.

With all kinds of love,
Ciao

Things of Paramount Importance

2009-10-03T11:34:00.001+01:00

This has been an absolutely fabulous week for a lot of reasons, of course.

I would say the two most important reasons for this has been the presence of boys and (a little bit more importantly!) the fact that my Nanna and Pawpaw bought me a new horse! His name is Snoopy. I rode him for a week before I came to London and had a blast. So, my trainer gave us a deal where he could stay and be ridden at her farm until I got back free of charge and my grandpa was totally amazing and bought him for me. I can't wait to go back to California this summer and ride at Fairview! And next year is going to be such a blast now that I have a horse. Maybe Evanne will send me picks so I can put them up.

Before I get to the presence of boys, I want to mention that I babysat the Newman's last night. They were totally cute and hilarious. I think we sat at the kitchen table for an hour while I waited for them to eat. It took them forever because Caleb was telling me a story about him and his friends and a yellow helicopter with a red cross on it. Evidently, when Caleb grows up he plans on being "Someone who saves people." Alex, on the other hand, it takes him a while to get a sentence out. For instance, he would start talking at the same time as Caleb. And he would say, "When IWhenI When I.. When I grow up. Ima have.. Ima have.. Ima have a red.. a red.. a red. helicopter. " Then, still stuttering, but I can't be bothered to include that anymore. "I'm gonna throw the door shut and pull the lever." And thats just about all I got out of him, but it was very funny because he told that little story over and over again. Also we played hide and seek and sang church songs and prayed before bed because that's part of their bed time routine. SOO cute.

After that, we went over to Imperial and met more guys again, accept these guys were closer to our age, and they were also hotter. I mean, no offense to the guys the other night, but these were rugby guys, and (Meagan, if you are reading this!!!) one of them even had bruises on his arm from them and he totally looked legit. Charles looked like Josh Hartnett. Can I just say I love Josh Hartnett! It was a really fun night. We might see them on Wednesday as well because evidently Wednesday is sports night. Ladies and gentlemen, London is looking up, and I'm not feeling nearly so parched.

Thinking and Tons of Fun

2009-10-01T10:36:00.001+01:00

Today, I got to thinking about the first night Natalie and I spent in that grungy hostel in Glasgow. We couldn't quite bringing ourselves to put our heads on those pillows so we discussed our old lice days from the past. We both have memories of our moms crying over our sibings hair as they picked through it with a comb. Natalie says she remembers seeing just that scene, her sister asleep on the floor as her mom looked for lice for the second time. They had already thought they'd been rid of the nasty buggers once. Natalie walked into the room and thought, "We have the lice." It made me think of the things that impact a little kids world. I remember thinking the same thing as my mom combed through my twin sister's hair at the kitchen table with a magnifying glass. The kitchen had the best lighting. The funny thing is how huge that was. Really, almost as big as when the Twin Towers were attacked. I found out about it in Sex Ed class in 6th grade, and I remember thinking that it meant war. The second the announcement was made over the intercom I was shocked by the tragedy of it, certainly, but mostly by the certainty of war I understood to be synomous with the announcement. The fact that I would have to experience that scared me more than anything. I guess I had thought maybe I could avoid war back then. A lifetime with out war. I really believed in it. I guess I had an ignorant belief in humanity, a child's innocent. The truth is though, that was just as big as getting the lice just a few worlds before. My mind handled them the same. They were both equally close to the end of the world. And yet now I know they are worlds apart in theory, but in truth I was much more effected by the lice than I am by this war.

Now, moving on from memories, I should tell you a little bit about my day.

Tonight was totally fun. First, I asked a few of the girls in my room whether or not they wanted to have a family dinner. Family dinner meaning group dinner in the kitchen. The thing about living here is that everybody has to have that survival, fend for yourself mentality when it comes for food. We write our names on all our things so nobody can touch it. I just had the longing to share food with people. Anyway, we had mashed potatoes, BBQ Chicken, candied carrots (but they were healthier than they sound), roasted tomatoes, and corn bread. Meggan and I cooked together. We make a good cooking team. It was so cute because everybody helped cutting the vegetables up and preparing them for cooking. Then we pushed two of the little tables together in the kitchen to form a bigger table and put our feast in the middle. We even held hands to pray before we ate. Meggan made an apple crisp to end it all. SO DELICOUS.

Then, I went to the pub. The Imperial College Pub for the first time. There were boys. They were everywhere, and they didn't even seem that dorky. It was fabulous. It was also really nice to go with some people I didn't really know that well - Mariesa, Jasmyne, Selin, and Katie Webb. I like them all so much! They just seem to be really down to earth people. We went into the pub, and there were so many people it really felt like a Cafeteria. We bought our drinks and then went and sat down. Just by chance, we were sitting beside these three guys-one was Amenian, one was Italian, and one was from Leebs (sp?) and ended up hanging out with them. Anyway, they were all attending Imperial College to get their PhDs for Mechanical Engineering. Haha. It was alot of fun, some of the best fun I've had since I got here. I can't wait to room with Mariesa in Greece!

Then, I came back to the house. I was just so happy last night that I got really silly. My roommates have made a list of all the funny things I said including, "Kindness is Paramount" and "I can't believe it, but its love!" Anyway, it was a great night in London.

Oh, Science and Songs!

2009-09-30T17:27:00.000+01:00

For the first time in my life, I legitimately don't hate Science. I think our professor is hilarious. I enjoy listening to his dry human and British accent, and I don't feel stupid in the class. This could be because I don't have Evanne here making me feel stupid (haha) or it could also be that it's more a history of Science than actual science, but one way or another it makes me really happy.

The other reason Science makes me happy is the arrival of the Imperial College students. We mine as well go to an all girls school what with the ratio of girls to boys we are dealing with here in the London House. I started the expression within our group of friends that we are in the desert and we are parched. But things are looking up. Imperial College boys are here! We sit at our windows and ogle them out on the park behind us. Well, we don't really ogle them because the majority of them are Asians and most of us aren't into Asians. Also, Imperial is the equivalent of MIT so they're a little nerdy, but when we can find a good one to ogle. We do. Oh you can bet your life on it.

Today they were blowing up rockets (and paying a nerdy amount of attention to it, naturally). We watched through the window. We counted the number of non Asians, and we hoped. Yes, we hoped. I don't care if they blow up Rockets. I enjoyed watching October Sky just as much as the next person.

Tonight we had French food. I have been waiting to experience French food since I arrived, and luckily, I was not let down. There was chicken served with a creamy cheesy sauce that almost certainly contained an atrociously delicious amount of butter. To top it all off, we had creme brule. As Hannah would put it--I am obsessed with creme brule. Its not just the desert. In fact, the desert is good and all. Delicious in fact. But I love it because of the sound. The crack when you first tap the outer layer of this fine dessert. It makes me silly and happy for hours. When that song for The Sound of Music came out that goes: "When the dog bites. When the bee stings. When I'm feeling sad.. I simply remember my favorite things, and then i don't feel so bad. Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens. Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens. Brown paper packages tied up in string. These are a few of my favorite things." I know you know the song, but i just had to write it all down. You see, all those things are well and good. I mean who doesn't love kittens?! The thing is that I know that "the crack when you first take a bit of creme brule" doesn't rhyme, but to me it totally belongs. That's all.

To finish up tonight, I just want to let you know that tonight Natalie is hiding my Nutella from me because I am so addicted. Luckily, I will get it back for breakfast.

My Backpack

2009-09-30T11:04:00.000+01:00

I have now officially backpacked. Wearing the backpack made me want to wear bohemian clothes and a bandanna as a headband. Just seems like a backpacker thing to do.

Scotland was beautiful. I traveled in a group with Natalie, Meggan, Emily, and Tessa, all friends from the London house. We all had a most wonderful time together, but that doesn't mean that everything went smoothly. No, certainly not, but I will admit that we did learn a thing or two. We left London Thursday night. Our plane took off at 9:45 from Stansted. We basically had no idea how long it would take to get there. First we took the tube via the Circle Line to the Liverpool station. There we took the train to the Airport, arriving right at the terminal. Somewhere in between all of this, Natalie slipped off her jacket and her wallet holding her oyster card, credit cards, and license. It slipped out into the oblivion that is a European Airport, completely unbeknownst to us. We didn't realize it until we were getting off the RyanAir plane in Glasgow, Scotland. Natalie searched the plane with the whole flight crew (a very helpful bunch of Scottish people) while we waited on the tarmac. We knew when she came off the plane a little teary eyed that her wallet was gone. Missing. That's a pretty horrible feeling for an overseas student. But it got worse.

When we arrived in Glasgow it was 12 at night/in the morning. We had taken a train from the air port to Glasgow central and when we came out of the station the city resembled the Beast's castle in Beauty and the Beast. In a way, Glasgow is really a place of architectural beauty, but the concrete on the outside of the Roman Style buildings they have there has been effected by the elements so much that they give off a creepy feel, like a place thats been forgotten. In the rain, in the middle of the night, the city didn't exactly give off the most comforting aura. That is to say, we were a little scared. The train had dropped us off in the middle of the city and we were left with our map and a few street lamps. We stopped off at a little fish and chips joint to eat a late dinner and then headed to the hostel.

The hostel was quite an experience. I would almost tell you: When traveling in Glasgow do not stay at the Euro Hostel there. We walked in and there was a little desk area with two attendants behind it, each of which were downing some cocktails from the bar just beyond the lobby of the hostel. We could hear the music when we approached right away. I suppose the most unsettling part was that there didn't seem to be any young adults there. In fact, the people that approached the desk to stay the night looked predominantly homeless. I don't have an issue with homeless people, or people that look homeless (H&M seems to be starting this trend. We went shopping the other day and their jackets belong on the side walk) but I'll be honest and say that it wasn't exactly a comforting feeling. I mean, homeless people, and homeless looking people tend to be unhygenic, and unhygenic people tend to (among other things) smell. The issue with this hostel was that Natalie, our oh so talented planner (and she is a very good planner) messed up a little bit. She got just a tad confused and booked the hostel for the wrong night. We arrived in Glasgow the 24th, but she booked for the 26th. After figuring all of that out, we aquired two hotel rooms. Natalie and I would have the double room, and Meggan, Emily, and Tessa would take the four person room. The nice man at the counter gave us a bit of a deal, which was really appreciated.

Now its important to have a proper image and feel for the room Natalie and I stayed in. The walls were a puky colored pink. Yes, that is a color. The carpet was blue and a bit sticky. I don't want to think what from. The bathroom was damp and enclosed a small shower (hair swimming on floor). The sink was in the room where there was a metal bunk bed. On this metal bunk bed there was a scary look mattress and on this mattress they had placed our sheets for the night.

I honestly felt like a jail mate who had just been handed his orange jump suit. I know its not the same, and I know that maybe its not an appropriate reaction, but there it is. I was literally telling myself, "Alanna, its okay. You can do this. You can totally do this. Other people do this all the time." Its not that I don't like to get dirty. Hand me some mud and I'll get knee deep in it. I mean I've scooped poop and cleaned animal vomit and human vomit. I've cleaned out our gutters too. I've even gone an extended amount of time without showering for certain reasons, but I have this thing about bed linens. Now these were clean sheets, and I knew it. They were folded quite neatly, but I had a feeling that the duvet had not been washed. I mean, duvets are hard to wash. There was a cover on the duvet, but it just wasn't doing that good of a job. To top it off, my mom had just recently told me about the horrors of bed bugs. Bed bugs are scary scary things. You can't get rid of them. They live in the mattress. And pillows! Don't even get me started on pillows..

Slowly, Natalie and I inched into our beds. It took us a while to put our heads on the pillows and we knew we needed to get acclimated to our new environment, I mean we weren't quite used to it, and so we turned on the tv. It was a pay as you TV that was bolted to the wall--ours was an upscale prison. We were supposed to slip in a pound and get 15 hours of televison (4 channels), but I found a way to avoid paying. We turned it to the most interesting channel. It was a reality sort of true life looking show in which a man who had just lost a ton of weight had aquired some unsightly extra skin since losing the weight. He had been picked to undergo a plastic surger, dental, and fashion transformation. We thought this was the gist of the show. Then the show host announced that he would be investigating all the different ways to enlarge his penis. So evidently, this show was about male beauty, and as we all know, the penis is the most integral part. I'm going to end this by going into as little detail as possible, but basically, the British have no issues with penis on television. They show it as much and in as many fashions as they want. And we saw ALOT of it.

Have you seen Big? You know with Tom Hanks and Elizabeth Perkins. He's a kid and he makes a wish on an arcade machine at a fair and then he wakes up the next morning 30 years old with chest hair. Anyway, theres this part in Big where he's just booked a really crappy hotel in a bad part of town with a little help from his 13 year old friend. Well that night, after his friend leaves Tom Hanks sits up on his bed curled up in his questionable sheets on his questionable mattress and looks like he's about to cry while he hears crashing and shouting out the window. That was me last Thursday night. Natalie and I heard tapping, like knocking on the other side of our wall while we laid in both. It was one of those things you have to purposely not think about so that it doesn't bother you. It kept starting and stopping and taking on a different rhthym and just totally freaking us out. Then not but a few minutes later we heard men yelling in the hallway and things crashing. Things crashing! I seriously wanted to cry, and I can't believe I slept a wink that night. I was a 19 year old, female version of Tom Hanks in Big. I felt exactly the same.

The next day we investigated Glasgow which basically meant going to the shops and eating at a Scottish Tea Room. My very favorite part was having a Nutella Crepe. Have I mentioned that I love Nutella? A friend of mine in highschool, James, used to have Nutella Sandwiches everyday, and I remember thinking that it looked really gross. Never tried it. Wrote it off, all that stuff. But I am addicted to Nutella now. Its really bad. I think about it in between meals. Its hard for me to go a meal without it. I don't understand how the british are not fat and round off Nutella. I think it might have crack it in it.

We also managed to go to a Museum! I know, so very scholarly of us. We went to the Museum of Modern Art. It was actually quite cool in a lot of ways. Right outside the Museum there was a statue of a horse. Picture is to the right. Please ignore the girl in the orange shirt. Have no idea who she is. The thing is, at first we thought this statue was just a prank played by a group of teenagers (there were many teenagers in Glasgow that seemed up to no good. Including, a boy and two girls. Both girls were sucking on the boys neck at the same time. Right in St. George's Square which is basically a monument area.) BUT basically, this is not the work of a teenager. Banksy did this. He's a famous vandalizer. Actually, Banksy is not his real name, its his signed code name, but its still pretty good that we were able to see modern art outside of the musuem.

That night we went to a pub in Glasgow and got a little silly and had girl talk which was all really fun. Cider is a lovely thing. Cider is the best thing on the planet. Big fan of cider. If I remember correctly the pubs name was Hootenanny's.

The second night in the hostel, I felt less like a Primadonna, in case you were wondering.

The next day we woke up, had breakfast and headed to the train station so we could get tickets to Edinbourgh (pronounced Edinbouro, so don't make that mistake). The tickets only cost 1 pound 90. I thought that was so amazing I just had to share. I feel that I reallly must include a picture of the train station mostly because it was awesome. There were birds flying around everywhere and the times for the trains and platforms were flashing. So much better than an airport.

I personally think trains are the most romantic, fantastic things on the planet. No wonder the kids that attend Hogwarts take a train. Seeing the countryside go by, having the trolly man pass by with Snack. It was just really fantastic. During the trip, and particularly on the train I read a notably wonderful book: Twisted Tree by Kent Meyers. You should read it. The best part about trains is that you can see the country as you pass it by. I mean, clouds are all well and good to look at, but in the large scheme of things a cloud is a cloud no matter where it is. Scotland on the other hand.. well, Scotland doesn't float around everywhere. Its rather static, in fact. Here are some pictures of the countryside as the train went on down the tracks. Excuse the reflection in the window, please. Can't be helped

Now, I will tell you about my backback. My backback is green and large. I didn't pick it out. My backpack is so large that I should never have to worry about someone getting into my space and its hard to turn around in an elevator with people in it. My backpack is so large that I may just take out a few civilians by simply hefting it onto my soldier. For all of these reasons, I feel a very strong attachment to my backpack. Even pretty tempted to name him.

We arrived in Edinbourgh after an hour. If you are ever going to Scotland, this is a must see. It really is just like a Medieval city. Everything is cobblestone. There are beautiful churches everywhere, and yes, the men do wear kilts. A wedding was going on in one of the Cathedrals and we saw young and old men, big and small in skirts. For some it was fitting, for others I didn't quite understand how they were able to act like they believed they looked so smart. To me, they just looked more rediculous. I didn't see a guy that looked just like Heath Ledger on the street, and yes, he was wearing a skirt.

We spent out day in Edinbourgh touring the castle there. My favorite part of the castle.. well I have two. One was the view of the city. The castle is so central it still seems like the hub of the community, even though I'm quite sure Edinbourgh has moved on from that kind of thing. My other favorite part was that the soldiers from way back when he used to live in the castle growns had a tiny little earier with grass where they barried their dogs. They had little tombstones and everything. Perhaps at some point I will include pictures of said cemetary.

After this venture we went to get coffee. Which means I got hot chocolate because for some reason (maybe its a matter of principles) I refuse to drink coffee. I just think it can't be real coffee even though I'm sure it is. Maybe its prejudice. So we asked these men we bought rings from where to go.

Oh I forgot about the Rings! There are many street vendors on the Royal Miles that leads up from the Castle. One of which was selling rings, and I bought one of those rings. For 10 pounds. Really I thought that was too much, but the story was just so great. It may very well be a lie, that story the street vendor told us, but for me, I almost feel like if its a lie that makes it even better. Anyway, the scottish man who we bought the rings from said that back in that day that there were still peasants and one of those peasants wanted to get married, but didn't have the money for a ring he would steal a teaspoon from his employer for whom he was mostly likely a servant in the household. He would have a metal worker turn that spoon into a ring. So my new ring is made out of a spoon, and it still has the metal design from the spoon on it. Its really quite neat. I suppose I paid 9 pounds for the story.

So this street vendor, he tells us to head to this place called Chocolate Soup where they make hot chocolates that you can actually eat like soup, you know with a spoon. It was so thick and creamy and there were crunchie barns on top and it was absolutely fantastic. Its actually quite laughable to consider the amount of time the five of us spent in coffee shops while we were in Scotland. We tried to find unique ones though if that makes up for our lack of adventurosity.

Speaking of adventurosity, that night we went on a ghost tour. Honestly I thought it would be a hoaxe, but it turned out to be more of a history lesson combined with the belief of spirits (some of them evil). It was a tour of the underground vaults from way back in the middle ages. Let me just say it was creepy. I don't really want to go into too much detail, but thats that. Take the undergound ghost tour in Edinbourgh. See how creeped out you get. And yes, I do remember doing a bit of shreiking at one point.

After that we had American food and an American restaurant. I promise it wasn't on purpose. It just looked like a pub at first. I had a California Pizza, yes I did. And cider. Can't forget the cider.

We went back to our lovely Hostel in Edinbourgh with its lovely little seaside vibe and stayed the night with five strangers other strangers which was all well and good.

The next morning we woke up and had breakfast at this little cafe right under the Chinese place that J.K. Rowling wrote a fair bit of Harry Potter. Then we headed to the train station and headed back to London.

It was a long day back. Three train rides, one plane, and the subway, but we made it. Somewhere in the middle of all of this, we remembered that it was Tessa's birthday! We didn't even realize it until 5:00 in the afternoon! Tessa is our friend from the room next door. She rooms with Emily Rose who is a true granola bar character. Tessa is blond and from Colorado (so maybe shes the perfect person to handle Emily Rose with a certain finesse). I don't really know her well enough to give you a really accurate description so I will just tell you what I know. She has a great relationship with her mother, she has a fantastic pair of boots, and her father was once a vet. She wishes he would work again, and doesn't like him a ton. Her Dad runs and when he does he wears bright running shorts and looks a bit silly. She has these really great classic long sleeved blue pajamas that she wears to bed at night. She says they are perfect for making you feel just the right temperature. So thats Tessa so far. Love to get back to you on her later.

At the Stansted Airport we discovered that some kind person had returned Natalie's wallet. After all the horrible things people have told us about getting things stolen in London, and how scared I have been of just that happening I didn't think there was a chance in the world someone would turn it in, but they did. And it really made me believe in people. In fact, this whole weekend did.

Of Boys And Planes

2009-09-23T21:43:00.000+01:00

I can't think of any other way to start a blog other than by saying "Today I.. blah blah blah." It just sounds so self-centered. Like the internet cosmos actually cares what I did today.. Maybe I'll get better at the beginnings with a little practice.

So anyway, today I stared at dead bodies in Jars. All kinds of bodies--kangaroos, baby humans, a rat or two. I seem to remember some inpregnated snakes, a frog (so classic), and a goat. The goat, for what ever reason, really stood out to me. The human embryos had their mouths agape. I find it very unsettling that I didn't find that more unsettling.

Of course we saw all of this at a musuem somewhere near Holborn underground station. Professor Monks escorted us there. Professor Monks is a very intelligent sounding British man who is constantly reminding us that he has a very dry since of humor so as to avoid hurting our feelings. His sense of human includes yelling, "Just cross the damn street!" when we hestitate crossing roads without crosswalks, afraid of London traffic. He walks very quickly and ushers those behind him to keep up, but a group of twenty five is quite a bit too large for forming a pod on the streets of London. It's important to note that his dry humor really is quite funny, even if it sometimes smarts a little.

Our musuem was focused on the history of medicine, more or less. Besides the jars of dead things we also saw human skeletons (of varying ages and sizes), pictures of disfigured faces injured in World War II, a prostate surgery, and a skeletal foot of a Chinese woman who had had her feet binded. It was a very interesting day, but I left the museum feeling rather sick.

Before the museum (I'm sorry I'm mentioning things all out of order), Meggan and I ventured to Wimbledon, the last tube stop on the line, to visit a stable in the area. The barn was really just great looking, a major step up from the barn we rode in at Hyde Park. The horses were well groomed, and the people seemed very friendly. I think I might ride there! Anyway, this was a very good part of Wimbledon, but the better part was that there were boys. There were boys at the barn, a farrior I think. Boys working on the rooftops. Boys working in the clothing shops. Boys riding skateboards. Boys buying sandwiches. Hot boys. Here in the London house there are only 9 boys, and 32 girls. The ratio is not good and a good percentage of them have girlfriends back home. So Wimbledon was fantastic. I'm thinking we should definitely visit Wimbledon again.

Tomorrow, we are headed to Scotland. We being Meggan, Emily, Natalie, Tessa, and myself. Right now it feels like the most surreal trip of my life. I've spent $160 for plane tickets. Natalie managed to book us two hostels. One for two nights in Glasgow and one for one night in Edinburge. Natalie is one of my roommates. Her bed is right beside mine. Seriously, we'd be rolling into each other if it weren't for a cubicle-esque wooden partition keeping us apart. On occasion we check up on eachother by peering over the wall. Every time it manages to feel a little awkward, like climbing a hedge to look in someones yard and being caught or something like that. Natalie is a nervous planner. When things seem uncertain, you know, just a bit wobbly, she plans. In this way, and in many others, we are very lucky to have her because I, for one, would only plan to save my life. That is the one and only condition.

So tomorrow is my first self-planned (sort of), self-paid for trip ever. Hopefully it will be quite an adventure. I'll get back to you on that.

P.S. The interesting thing about blogs when compared to journals is that when you are writing a journal or a diary, depending on your preference, you writes to the page. You write to the imaginary spirit of the binded little booklet. It seems almost like a real person who cares about your every word and action, a personality that lives for you alone. As a little tangent, my sister used to keep a diary, and when infuriated at my mother she would scream at her in the pages knowing that Mom would find it, read it, and have just the appalled and angered reaction that my sister longed for. But anyway, the difference is that in this blog here, I am writing to no one, with the possiblity of everyone, and definitely for myself. I can't make the internet care like I could a diary. It's an interesting change of pace.

Heres to Peer Pressure and Oyster Cards

2009-09-22T23:01:00.000+01:00

Two weeks into this trip and I'm doing the one thing (of many things) I always told myself I would never do: I'm writing a blog.

First, I'll begin by giving my excuses as to how I've convinced myself that it's okay.

1) Everyone else is doing it .
Of course this makes absolute sense. I don't think I need to explain much more on that one.

2) I am in London
Surely, I should have some sort of record of my time here. A few months ago I found my 1st grade journal, the ones they make you write so that you can learn how to spell. You know, you draw in them and so on. It was so great! If I hadn't kept that little marble notebook, or even if they hadn't made me write in it, I would never remember so many little things. Like the way I drew my grandma or how I felt about getting my first pony. Or the way I thought! Gotta say, I think its pretty priceless, but I hate journals. I always feel stupid when I write in them, and my hand gets tired, or my handwriting too messy. All in all, I end up feeling like a dope by the end of the page. So I've ruled journals out and blogs in for the time being. We'll see how it goes.

3) Three was going to be that I hate journals, but I already said that, but there still needs to be a three because odd numbers are far superior to even numbers. Even God would attest to that--ask the Bible. So three is here for the sake of three.

Now, we can move beyond explanations and onto the happenings of my life in London..

London is, so far, a very lovely city. There are many reasons for this, but don't worry I won't make another formal list, but you really must know that the house I'm staying in here is fabulous, my roommates seem almost flawless so far (They don't even mind my messiness. Hannah, the short-haired blond who looks like a female Peter Pan and has an absolutely perfect laugh, the kind that hovers the line of being annoying, but is close enough that it is endearing in its uniqueness said today, "What mess?" Which I really appreciated because I know there is a mess, and, yes, she knows as well, but she's lovely enough not to let it bother her. Hopefully I will get around to it sometime soon.), the city seems old and beautiful, the food has been interesting and diverse so far, although I wouldn't really suggest pasties, and best of all.. I tell you, BEST OF ALL is that my hair does quite well in London. So it seems, this is my city.

It is my city because today we had to meet one of our professors at a museum. Her name is Professor Barnes. She is quite a London character. He clothes are very classy looking. Some of it has a hint of a rustic flair to it. She speaks quite beautifully, as most people do here, and she has perfected the talent of sitting on the floor while wearing a long skirt which is a bit like riding a bicycle while wearing a skirt, and she doesn't look a bit uncomfortable doing it. We all sit down for little pow wows (which I don't have a clue how to spell and can't really be bothered) while she describes the significance of each painting. The thing that I believe we all find most puzzling about her is that she may or may not have fake boobs, but one way or another she has a serious head light issue, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, on my way to the National Gallery for class I had to catch the number 9 bus. Meggan, my soft spoken cork screw curly haired roommate who I plan on going on many a horse riding adventure with this semester, was waiting for the bus with me. We were waiting and all in all keeping to ourselves which seems to be all the fashion in London when a British manboy kind of sidled up to me. And he asked me.. Wait for it.. Wait for it.. "Do you know if I can I pay in coin for the bus when I get on?" I know you can't believe it! He was BRITISH and we looked so informed that he asked US. I said back to him, "Well, I don't know I have an oyster card." That's right, for those of you who don't know, an oyster card is the transport card that gets you on the tube and on the bus in London. It's sort of a pay as you go thing, and no one would have one unless they lived in London. Well, I live in London. And I have an OYSTER CARD. And for that slight moment, I got to rub it in his little British manboy face even though he had no idea that was what I was doing because he was worried about getting on the bus. But oh well. It was still a small victory for me.