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.

Freshers Fun

So it is almost October now, and I have yet to step into a classroom at UCL. They give students here a week or so to register for classes, get settled in and socialize before classes begin. It's a nice change from home where we have to start our full academic schedule pretty much as soon as we arrive. At the same time, I'm really ready for classes to begin and get a routine going.

This whole week, the student union is hosting a bunch of events at nightclubs and bars around the city, and last night was Freshers Fiesta. To sum it up, it was CRAZY. The club, KOKO, was super packed and I could hardly breathe. Whether it was some dude's B.O. attacking my poor scent sensors or some chick elbowing me in the lungs, it was consistently out of control.

We got pretty tired around 2 a.m. but most of the people there kept raging until past 3. I am now certain that I cannot keep up with these British freshman who apparently party this hard every night because their coursework doesn't count their first year (crazy, I know).

This morning I woke up with bruises in odd places, and I am definitely feeling pretty wrecked from two weeks of going out almost every night. As fun as this has been, I don't think I could keep this up for the entire year, nor do I want to lest my liver gives up on me and runs out of my body.
The next big event we're going to is Club Neon, which is a huge glow-in-the-dark rave that's happening on Thursday. In the meantime, I'll be getting my life in order and registering for the rest of my classes.

If all goes to plan, I'll be taking 2 economics courses, a psychology course, and a global citizenship anthropology course that will include an internship in London. I'm down to two choices: Le Monde Diplomatique (English Edition) and the UNHCR.

Earlier yesterday, we ventured to the Regent Street Festival, where all the stores had awesome promotions and the street was blocked off for food vendors. The best part was the free cupcakes and champagne at a bunch of stores. The pictures are of a cupcake tower and a pastry stand they had going.
I'm pretty settled in now in my flat about a 20 minute walk from campus, which has pros and cons. Pro: the facilities are a lot nicer than some of the dorms that are closer to campus. Con: My feet feel like they are covered in bruises from all the walking I've been doing. You would think I'm exaggerating, but during the course of a day, I walk about 3 miles just coming to and fro one time. Multiply that by three journeys on average and you are already at 9 miles. Pro: All that walking is preventing me from gaining weight and is bound to keep me in shape. Con: Walking the 40 minutes home from the night club last night SUCKED. There were creeps everywhere and I felt very unsafe without any pepper spray on me (which is considered a firearm in the UK and thus illegal to carry). As safe as they say this city is, it's still scary when you're wearing club gear on deserted sidewalks at 3 in the morning (I admit, not the smartest decision to walk home, but there were NO cabs!).

As much as I love London, there is one thing I miss about the States, and that's TV. Hulu and all the network sites don't work here when you try to watch episodes online (boo!). So I am now on the hunt for other options.

I'm sure there will be some good stories to tell at the close of Freshers Week, but for now, I am going to continue resting my sore feet and keep from moving more than 5 meters for at least tonight.

Why I'm a Pitiful Blogger

So I have officially been in the United Kingdom for about two weeks now and have yet to update this blog with any of the details. Basically, I suck.

I landed at Heathrow on September 14, and was one of the lucky ones who got through immigration lightning fast. Here is a brief overview of my first week.

Kensington...
...was beautiful. We were set up at a really nice hotel for a few days to learn a little more about how things work across the pond and the university system here. My roommate Jess and my beds were literally less than 1 inch apart.

The first night, we went bar hopping to about 7 bars total. We were completely obnoxious and the loudest ones at every bar we went to, but it was a lot of fun. The pub culture is a really fun thing to be a part of. And, I had the chance to learn about some of the different beers they have here. I think either Stella or Blackthorn (the girly cider) is my favorite so far. It's very community oriented and a extremely laid back. Supposedly, the local pub is the living room for all in the neighborhood.

The second day we had some Indian food and saw the spectacular views from St. Paul's Cathedral. Even though London is cloudy, grey, and gloomy most of the time, it's still so beautiful. By this time, we had discovered our favorite pub in Kensington, Prince Alfred's, because they have an awesome sofa bar upstairs where we celebrated Mexican independence day with some locals over beers.

The next night we went to the New London Theatre to see the War Horse with people from the Arcadia program. It was basically your standard star-crossed lover story except instead of a boy and a girl, it was about a boy and a horse. As cheesy as I thought it was, the puppets they used for the horses and other animals were phenomenal. I guess the Brits love horses because everyone except us were crying at the end.

During the first couple days, I had a chance to really adjust to the lingo around here. "Lift" instead of "elevator." "Toilet" instead of "bathroom." "Cheers" instead of "thank you."

After some more bonding with fellow study abroad students over cheap wine, we were finally off to Swansea, Wales for our homestay. At first I was a little nervous about this because when I got my assignment, it only had one woman's name on it under "Mom" and "Cats" under "pets." So it was my natural suspicion that I was living with a cat lady. But it was absolutely not the case. I lived with a wonderful family of three who already had a 17 year old polish student living with them. I was a little wary of how many cats they had (4), but they were the most friendly cats I've ever met and totally turned around my opinion of them. The secret favorite was Frankie, whose picture is shown below. He slept with me and my host roomies one night and he's just adorable. I did hate one of them though, Mattie, the girl cat, who is apparently a two-timing whore who hooks up with both Oliver and Tommy, the other boy cats. She was the meanest one.

So much happened in Wales, from visiting Mumbles, to watching Dorian Gray, to clubbing and drinking on Wind Street with the crazy Welsh locals, to getting free (but weird) onion and cheese sandwiches from the owner of Maggie Dicks. We also got to try Welsh cakes (awesome), cockles, and lavabread (which is actually seaweed). But my favorite part has to be my host sister Rachel. She was the most darling thing about that place and she taught us some new Welsh slang as well. When you think a boy's cute, you call him "lusch." When someone is cool, you say they're "mondo." When someone is cuddly, you say they're good for a "cutcsh."

So that's a little about my first week in the United Kingdom (although apparently no local calls it that) and I promise to update more later with some details about my first week since I've moved into my flat in central London.

Cheers!

3 days and counting...

For the past few days since my last post, I've made a couple discoveries, the most important being that Hulu has all the seasons of Arrested Development (Alanna, I finally finished the series). After watching all three seasons and finishing traffic school for my mother, I feel extremely accomplished.

Three more days until the big departure date, and I still have not packed. I've been intending to pack for the past two weeks, but I realized that my clothes would get wrinkly and you actually don't need that much time to pack. Most of my banking woes have been resolved. I opened a Bank of America account, which will allow me to withdraw cash for free at banks overseas in their ATM alliance. I keep feeling as though I'm forgetting to do something before I leave, even though I know there isn't. I'm sure I'll feel this way up until the day that I arrive, which is a little annoying because I keep waking up in the middle of the night to write down stuff on my to-do list.

I will miss a lot of things about the States while I'm away. I was reminded of exactly what I'm leaving behind for a year today, when I had what will probably be my final bite of In-N-Out before my flight out. Oh, and I'm sure I'll miss my friends and family too. It really is bittersweet this time around because I'll be so far away for the longest time I've been away from home. At the same time, I can't wait to get on that plane and discover what adventures lie ahead. Hopefully those future adventures will be at least somewhat entertaining so as to make your reading experience more enjoyable.

Toodles 'till later!