Drunk Men Make the World a Happy Place

This Sunday my friend Brendan and I went on a day trip to Brighton, a seaside town south of London. It was the most perfect day on the beach ever, especially after a few days of gloomy, rainy weather. After getting over the disappointment of not going orbing, everything went off without a hitch and it turned out to be one of the more pleasant days I've had since I've been here.

I will recount my day through a food diary.

Breakfast: At my flat I had an apple and some mixed veggies. Then, upon reaching the Victoria train station, we stopped at a French pastry stand, and I couldn't resist this beautiful chocolate chip twisted bread thing...so much so that I had two (calorie guilt!).

Snack 1: Wandering about the alleyways of "the Lanes," which is the old town where a lot of shops and restaurants are, we came across the most darling cupcake place. We couldn't help ourselves and I chose a devil's food cupcake with peanut butter frosting and a Reese's piece on top. Brendan chose a pumpkin flavored cupcake. We had half of each, but devoured them too quickly to have documented their beauty. I only have a picture of the aftermath...
Lunch: Being at a seaside town and all, we thought it appropriate to have some sort of fish. So we had the old favorite: fish and chips. But this time, it had the added flair of mushy peas. It is exactly what the name suggests. The texture was a lot like baby food, but surprisingly it actually tasted like peas.
Snack 2: At Brighton Pier, there were at least 5 Doughnut stands that smelled so irresistible that we ignored our arteries' screaming cries for mercy and purchased three to share between the two of us. They were so crisp and moist inside that it was definitely worth it. They were very reminiscent of funnel cake.
Snack 3: After roaming several really cool vintage and antique stores, and finding the most awesome looking samurai store that sold all this cool weaponry (so sad that it was closed on Sunday), we went to the Japanese beer festival at a restaurant called Moshi Moshi. We each had the special brew they had there and bought a pack of wasabi peas. Brendan couldn't handle the spiciness of it, but did admit they were really good beer munchies.
Snack 4: After pre-gaming our planned sunset on the beach at the beer festival, we headed over to the shore in a hurry because we thought we might miss it. We got a bottle of wine, contained in two paper coffee cups (I know, super classy), and rushed over to the beach. As the sun set on the water, we enjoyed probably the most expensive wine I've had since landing in the U.K. and some more wasabi peas.
Then the best part of the entire day happened. We met our very own drunk guy photographer. We wanted a picture of us on the beach against the setting sun, but the only person on our side of the beach was this random, disheveled looking guy in a suit staring at the sea. Brendan approached him, and from my vantage point sitting a little ways away, I could tell something was weird about this guy.

As I approached, I could hear the man slurring his words, and as we posed for the picture, he accidentally pointed the camera at his own face and took a picture of himself, which Brendan posted on Facebook for posterity. Even through his stumbling, mumbling, and slurring, he took a pretty decent picture of the two of us. He's probably some genius photographer who's received tons of awards and recognition. But to us, he's the really drunk old guy who took our picture on the beach. Here's a shot I got of him on his way to drink some more whiskey.
Dinner: After watching the sun set, it was only about 5:10 and completely dark outside (daylight savings is trippy). We went over to an awesome tapas place on one of the winding streets in the Lanes. I had never gone to dinner tipsy before this, and it definitely was a new experience. Everything tasted better and I felt warm and fuzzy all over throughout dinner. Everything we had was delicious and I'm sure it still would have been sans pre-game. We had seafood paella, mussels in a really yummy tomato sauce, and these garbanzo beans and spinach that burned the roof of my mouth, but still tasted really good. Unfortunately my camera started running out of battery and I did not capture the awesomeness of this dinner on film.

Snack 5: Our bellies stuffed with the day's food consumption, naturally we had to get a final snack. And what a perfect snack to end the day with. We had ice cream at a New York Times recommended shop called Scoop and Crumb. I had the Baked Plum Crumb ice cream, and it was possibly the best ice cream I have ever tasted. And the flavor was nothing I'd ever heard of before, which made it a unique and delicious experience. Thanks NYT! The picture below is courtesy of Brendan's Facebook album.
After beating Brendan at Air Hockey at the pier, we headed back to the train station and journeyed home.

All in all, a very good day. It was nice to get some sun to beat the seasonal depression that seems to be going around lately.

In other news...

I am meeting with the English editor at Le Monde tomorrow to discuss the project that I'll be working on with them. It's official! I'll be interning at Le Monde Diplomatique for at least this term. I am so excited to begin this phase of my study abroad experience. This internship is part of my anthropology class, which is so illuminating in so many ways. For the first time in my academic career, I am learning about productive steps that I can take to create the change I would like to see in this world. I'm getting more into visual anthropology, which is a field that uses media, mostly film and photography, to document and present research. It seems to be a lot like what journalists do, but in a more analytical, research-oriented way. Anyhow, it sounds like something I'd like to explore, the whole documentary film genre.

More on my progress on changing the world later.

The Tale of London Douchebags

Walking home from a night out in London is always an adventure. Creepy guys abound who just can't wait to try out their unoriginal and racist pick up lines on you as you're anxiously rushing homeward.

One night, I was walking home at 5:30 ish in the morning and a guy starting walking alongside me and chatting me up, pushing for personal details (name, school, place of residence, social security number, dog's name, you know, the usual). I kept trying to ignore him or be extremely short with him because for all I know he could have had a switchblade in his back pocket and I could have ended up bloody, dead and in a dumpster with no witnesses except CCTV. When he finally turned a corner, he called out to me, flicked me off, and said, "That's for not telling me your name!" Looking back, it wasn't too scary a situation because there weren't any knives or guns or piano wire involved, but at the time I was severely disturbed. Lesson learned: do not walk home in a mini skirt at 5:30 in the morning!

Other times random men jump out of restaurants lining the sidewalks and yell out "ching ching chong" or "konichiwa" as if pretending to speak a fictitious East Asian language or a real language you don't speak will prove alluring to young women.

I don't know when these creepsters will learn that girls don't like being objectified, eye raped, grabbed, or flicked off by strange men at odd times in the night!

My point? A douchebag is still a douchebag no matter what country, city or principality you are in. The accent, the clothes, and the messy hairdo that took an hour to perfect all fail to mask the douchebaggery that they ooze.

Maybe it's because I've been brainwashed by the American media for the past 20 years of my life that there is a serial killer or rapist stalking every dark corner of my neighborhood, but I literally get heart palpitations every time I pass a shadowy area on my trek home. All the beauty and charm of the cobbled streets and storefronts dissolve at sundown and make me wish I had my inhaler...or that pepper spray wasn't illegal in the United Kingdom.

Those sickos aside, I love London! The fact that skeeze balls exist just make it that much more authentic a metropolitan environment. I love the fashion, I love the tumor pictures on tobacco packaging, I love the markets, I love school...it's really great. I haven't done a dollop of work in the past few weeks, which I really intend to attend to this weekend, but I've had loads of fun in work's place. I couldn't ask for a more perfect environment to spend a year in at this time in my life.

So far, I'm in the full swing of classes and should start working at my internship in the next week or two. I believe I'll be working at Le Monde Diplomatique's English edition and I'm super excited to get involved in the journalism scene in London.

Things I have done since I've last blogged:

1. Visited Oxford! The Harry Potter geek in me loved that parts of some of the films were shot on random bits of this campus. The big tree in the picture below is where Draco Malfoy was turned into a ferret in the fourth movie by Mad Eye. I also loved the robes that the students wear for formal occasions. It was matriculation day when we went and everyone was donning these adorable cape-lets and skinny ties. We also watched The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (I really don't recommend it although the cast is epic). Also the Oxford Covered Market has the best milkshake place I've ever been to called Moo-moo's. I had a delicious raspberry white-chocolate cheesecake concoction that caused lots of calorie guilt, but was so worth it. Go if you're ever in the area.
2. Made shameless purchases on Portobello Road. I bought the most darling sparkly beaded flapper hat from the 70s. I know, not as authentic as from the 20s, but it's got a lot of spunk and makes me look like Cleopatra.

3. Went to the library for the first time! This was an adventure. Everyone in the library is studying so intensely that it makes for an awkward situation when you have to scoot between the intense studiers to look for a book that you need. It was comforting to find that I am indeed (barely) competent enough to find books.

4. Tried absinthe! Basically, it just tastes like black licorice and goes down really easy (unless you gag at the thought of black licorice, then I don't recommend it). Beware, though, it really, really does the trick so drink in moderation.

5. Had lots and lots of Subway sandwiches. It really is the perfect drunk food. And it's the only place open by the time we come back from our night out. All the people who work there recognize our faces when we go there.

6. Run into maybe a thousand club promoters. There are like 20 from the same bar standing on the same street corner harassing you to go to their night club that night. I feel like maybe 5 might be enough. 5 makes you think about it. 20 makes you want to stab them in the face.

Fun Fact: Indian food is so common here (equivalent in pervasiveness as Mexican food in America) that the McDonalds has Curry Sauce as one of their sauces. It's the one next to the ketchup in the picture.

Bed Rest=Blogging

After somehow being able to put it off for so long, I am finally sick. Despite the pouring rain, I would probably be outdoors doing something or other more exciting than sitting in my room if it weren't for the fact that I literally cannot move from my bed.

Maybe it was because we stood in the rain for 3 hours at the Globe Theatre to watch Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost on Wednesday. Or maybe my sickness was compounded by the fact that despite my knowing better, I went and partied at the Ministry of Sound that night for Fresher's Ball. Whatever it was, I am confined to bed rest but I had a wonderful time getting here.

There's so much that I've done since I've last updated this blog, but I couldn't possibly write down everything that's happened since then. We took a day trip to Cambridge last Sunday, that was absolutely brilliant. I loved the campus, it was stunning. The best part was punting, which is pushing along a flat boat really close to the water with a really large stick. All but one of us managed to miss falling into the water. Even after surviving three boats crashing into where she was standing, the angry swan that growled at us, and braving the danger zone where the current was really powerful, my friend Lu fell into the water at the last second just as she was retiring from her punt. Here's a picture of some other punters I took from the bridge.

I finally started classes this week, and I actually like them okay. I'm taking Environmental Economics and Ethics in Applied Economics, which are both taught by really British older professors. Psychology of Health is actually a lot more interesting than I thought it would be, but my favorite class is probably Applied Individual Studies in Anthropology, which includes an internship in your field of interest during which you work on a huge project for that organization. It seems really cool, and I can't wait to get started.

The reading lists are huge, and I'm a little bit nervous that all of the exams for even the first semester's classes are at the end of the year during "summer" term, which is a month or so during which all your exams for the entire year take place.

I'm kind of starting to feel like a local now. I've been asked for directions at least 5 times (which is always fun), and miraculously, I've known where to direct them every single time. I love every bit of London I've seen so far. From eating moon cakes to celebrate the mid-autumn festival in Chinatown, to shopping on Oxford and Regent Streets, to sitting on Fendi couches at Harrods, I've really loved my experience here so far. The weather is really gloomy, and it doesn't quite read cheery, but somehow, I feel that way despite the rain and the grey clouds.

I'll hopefully blog a little more often so that my life's adventures will be more fresh in my memory, but it's probably a good thing that I spend much more time living my life than blogging about it. As I bid you adieu, here is a photo of where I'm living this year.

Cheers!

The Smells and Sounds of London

In third grade, my teacher introduced me to the writer's notebook. It was just a journal where we describe experiences using all our senses. Ever since, I've noticed sounds, smells, tastes and colors in a much more meaningful and deep way. Here are some of my observations about the neighborhood of London I'm living in (Bloomsbury).

Sounds: This city feels like it's falling apart because there's so much heavy construction going on. I wake up to the sounds of men shouting, jackhammers hammering, cranes lifting and beeping as they back up, so on and so forth. In most situations, I think I would mind it, but the noise rids me of the need for an alarm clock because they start right around 9 or 10, which is when I've been waking up most mornings.

Smells: On my long walk to campus, I feel like I am constantly surrounded by a cloud of smoke either because the people walking nearby are blowing their cigarette smoke in my face or the cars on the street beside me are spouting our massive black clouds of pollution in my path. I know this is bad for my lungs, but my experience living in this big city feels more authentic this way. What's a city with no pollution, right?

Mixed in with that smoke is the constant scent of fried foods coming from the kitchens of restaurants lining the sidewalk. I feel like the Brits eat just as shitty as we do in America, except they're all so thin because they walk it off, especially Londoners.

Sights: American culture is everywhere! From finding Starbucks and McDonalds on every corner, to TV shows, to movies, to fashion, to nearly every aspect of life you can find something American here. It's a little sad to me that The Hills has found it's way abroad so successfully. All the teenagers are starting to stick "like" 16 times in every sentence because of us. For shame America. For shame. One thing I found weird is that British students think our American accent sounds really cool. So many people have commented on how nice or cool our accent is. Weird right? Because we think ours sucks and theirs is so cool! Mutual admiration ensues.

Another similarity (at least for me) between the States and England so far is that minimum wage workers always make fun of, insult, or spite me. I was at the supermarket yesterday and I accidentally dropped a pound coin and the cashier lady was like super annoyed or furious or something and (while I'm standing right there) looks over to her friend at the next register over, rolls her eyes, and mumbles something mean. As this is happening I look up and there's a sign that says "We care about our customers." Yeah, you guys care enough to insult them behind their back right in front of their face.

I like to call it Disgruntled Employee Syndrome. As sucky as it is to be insulted or put down by these people, at the end of the day, they're stuck in a dead end job that pays barely enough to put food on the table. This is why I choose not to be angry at the mean cash register lady. Her life sucks way harder than mine ever will and that's punishment enough.

I will post an update later with pictures of where I'm living this year!

Later dudes.