Day Thirty Seven - Warning: Spending £s and dancing could lead to a sense of attachment

Helloooo America!
Well here I am for my belated check-in, despite having convinced myself last week that I was going to update again. I am doing pretty well, and now that my fifth week of class has begun and there are only 5 weeks left, I am beginning to realize exactly how fast this is going. June still seems far off, but February is a cruelly quick month, and it will be March before I know it, and I will be finishing up classes and turning in coursework and making presentations and going to Paris and York and then it will be spring break and I’ll be on my way to Florence and Rome… and then I come back and take finals sometime between April 20 and May 15 and then Johanna and Dana and Flor will meet me in Paris May 16-19 and then Flor will come to London with me until the 24th and Dana and Johanna will join us on the 22nd after spending a few days in Dublin and stay until May 27th and THEN it will almost be June. And I need to fit in a seriously quality Ireland trip at some point. And Bath/Stonehenge. Also maybe Cadbury World, the Cadbury Chocolate factory. Mmm. Who invented money?

Anyway I suppose I should give you the illustrated play by play.
Thursday after I left off we went to the London Eye and then walked along the South Bank. Just as I feel the most scared when I’m waiting in line for a roller coaster, I wasn’t nervous about the height until I was standing directly in front of the Eye.

It was HUGE. But it ended up being completely fine. You couldn’t feel the movement of each “capsule” as it rotated throughout the “flight”. It was hard to take pictures at night, unfortunately, but I managed to get a decent shot of Parliament and Big Ben, directly across the Thames (pronounced “tems”).

We proceeded to walk along the South Bank away from Big Ben, and after a prolonged exposure to the frigid air we finally arrived at the first pub. Here’s a shot of the sign in front of the pub with St. Pauls in the background.




The pub was right on the river and it looked like a nice place for a meal any day. And it was WARM. After about half an hour and a half pint of Strongbow we went back out into the cold, and walked past the Globe Theatre and the Tate Modern and a bunch of other important things that I simply must go see at some point. Here's the Globe, which was hanging out by the river nonchalantly, as though it didn't belong to Shakespeare or anything.

We went to the second pub, which was nearby London Bridge, and just down the bank from the Globe – The Anchor. I’d heard of that pub before, although there are probably about 15 pubs called The Anchor in central London alone. Apparently the first English dictionary was written by someone who frequented it, and Shakespeare’s actors often changed costumes in between acts there as well. We had some complimentary chips and sausage, and the former were significantly more enjoyable. We were pretty worn out and cold by then, so we abstained from the third and final pub. I was on my way to a different pub, O’Neill’s, with a girl I knew from my Modernism class and her friends. I met them at Wigram and after hanging out for a little we took the Tube to Piccadilly and found O’Neill’s, which was across from or in Chinatown. I’m not sure if it had one L or two Ls but we’ll go with two for now. They had been there often enough that the bouncer knew them and let us in without even IDing us. It was free to get in on Thursdays, and we skipped the £2 coat check by piling our coats on a counter in the back corner. The drinks weren’t too expensive, £4 for a Smirnoff Ice and £5 for a double vodka and cranberry, and there was a live cover band playing rock songs from the 80s and 90s – from my childhood! We danced and sang along to Teenage Dirtbag, All the Small Things, Mr. Brightside, and others that I can’t remember. When the band wasn’t playing they played typical club music. It was overall a lot of fun and I had a great night. The flat boots were a good choice, but of course the following night I would wear my heels.

Friday we were celebrating Rachel’s 22nd birthday, which was the upcoming Monday, and after a lazy afternoon sleeping in from my late night at O’Neill’s, I got ready and went with Joy to Wigram for a few drinks before we left for Fabric. Fabric is a nightclub near Farringdon and Holborn and it is pretty famous I think. When we got off the bus we were right in front of St. Bride’s church – the inspiration for the modern-day multi-tiered wedding cake!

It is expensive to get in to Fabric – Saturday it’s £16, but on Friday and with the student discount it only cost us £10. It is, unlike Tiger Tiger, a techno club. I was a little apprehensive as to what we would find and what the music would be like, but we had an amazing time. The club was very cool, expansive rooms, halls, and stairs, without too much décor to make it feel busy. The people and the lights did enough of that. We didn’t get drinks except for £4 Smirnoff Ices, and there were plenty of places to sit – including 2 large black leather mattresses across from the black leather couches outside one of the rooms. Convenience is everything I guess. It was an experience. I danced with Liam, a 20-year-old British soldier stationed at Essex at the moment who had recently been in Afghanistan with “my lot,” who told me I was "f*cking gorgeous," who was also father to a baby boy, whom I saw a picture of, although Liam “wasn’t with the boy’s mum anymore”. How reassuring. The dancing styles that we saw there were… different… to say the least. But we got the hang of it pretty soon and we rotated between the three main rooms as they rotated DJs, and we eventually found ourselves in a laser-disco-mosh-pit-techno room. There were enough people packed into the room for it to be considered a mosh pit, there was trance techno music thudding through our bodies, there was a giant disco ball with a diameter approximately the length of me, and there were green lasers shooting out of one side of the ceiling.

It was amazingly trippy. And if I had been on any assortment of drugs like most of the people there, it would have been even more amazingly trippy. It was open until 8am, and we probably could have stayed that long if it weren’t for our feet being pulverized by the constant bouncing up and down in high heels. Next time, we will be in flats, and we’ll stay until the dawn. Coat check had only been a pound, but the line to get them back at 3 was pretty long. While we were waiting, our feet had a chance to get the feeling back into them, and they were not happy. Both Joy and I took our heels off while we waited in line, and my feet were swollen like I couldn’t believe. We managed to limp down the street past tons of minicabs that the abroad office had been successful in steering us away from, and it was with great relief and excitement that we hailed a black cab when we got to the main road. Transportation after midnight really sucks in this city. We would have had to take 3 buses to get back, but we decided to save time by paying for a taxi to Piccadilly, where Rachel and Beth and Joy and I could go our separate ways. Joy and I prepared to wait at bus stop Y, where I had spent a significant amount of time waiting for bus 453 just 24 hours before. For 40 minutes we waited. We saw plenty of bus 94, bus 159, bus 88 at that bus stop, and we even saw the Baker St.-bound bus 18 pass by several times, but it didn’t stop at that bus stop. Finally, in the distance, I could make out the numbers 453 on the front of an approaching bus.

With almost-frozen glee we hailed the bus. It looked like heaven on wheels as it pulled up after that long night, and the second we limped into the elevator back safely at Marylebone, Joy and I pulled off our shoes and let our feet expand to their swollen size.

Saturday I appropriately slept in until 4pm and then got ready to go out to dinner with Rachel and her friend Mayumi, whose grandparents live next to Rachel in New Hampshire but who lives with her Oxford-professor-father in Oxford. We went to Pizza Express, which is quickly growing on me, although its not REALLY pizza. You have to eat it with a knife and fork. But it is delicious. We went back to Wigram after our meal and sang some karaoke as we reminisced through Rachel’s iTunes library, much to her neighbors’ dismay. It was fun, but I was worn after two late nights of dancing, and I was looking forward to talking with my friend from home. I went back to Marylebone around 11 and for not-too-various reasons went to bed around 7am.

Sunday, you guessed it, I slept in. I didn’t do much, but made a brief excursion to Tesco for groceries that I thought would last a while. Joy and I made a nice dinner of spaghetti and meatballs and salad and garlic bread and pudding in anticipation of celebrating Hayley’s return from being snowed-in at home since the blizzard a week before. She didn’t end up coming back until Monday morning, though, so we saved her leftovers and enjoyed the dinner ourselves.

Monday I went to my lecture and didn’t do much for the rest of the day until we met for Rachel’s actual birthday dinner. We got Indian and I wasn’t in love with it. It was pretty expensive if you did it right, which was to order a rice/bread, a curry, a vegetable, and a meat, so I ended up getting Tikki chicken or something like that, which was chicken baked in red spices, and a samosa, which was good.

Tuesday I left early for my Third World Studies class so I could figure out how to print notes and the avant-garde manifestos from the Regent Library, but it wasn’t hard and it is only 5p a page. I got to my 3WS seminar and our tutor started talking about the project and presentation that we have to do, and the subsequent report about it, that makes up our grade in addition to the final. He told us that we are to start our presentations next week, and turned to me and asks what I would like to do mine on. Everyone was stunned – he hadn’t even explained the work involved yet – how could we present next week? It was a very frustrating class made more frustrating by the foreign accent and the vagueness with which he described the project, but we were separated into groups and, from what I could gather, were supposed to work on individual projects within the group, but make sure they all have a common ground on which to debate upon within the group. After keeping us after our lecture he resigned to let us choose a topic for each group and then to email him during the week. Well, I have that seminar tomorrow and we still have not conversed as a group to decide upon a topic. I hate being the overachiever but I like to follow the rules and when he says “email me with your topics” I take it to mean before the next class. I’m the only one who has proposed an idea so far and I have never even studied this area before so it is a pretty bullshit idea. But looks like that’s the one we will be using. And we might have to present in a week! It wouldn’t be such a daunting thought if I had any confidence in the other members of my group, but they haven’t given me reason to have much confidence in them whatsoever. Happily, Tuesday night Joy and I went to go see Avenue Q, which I had seen before in NY, but Joy had never seen a musical before!

We got tickets in the “stalls,” or the orchestra, for £25 each, regularly about £60 each. I overheard a boy in front of us bragging that he had gotten his ticket for £45. I just looked at Joy and we smiled smugly. The theatre, Noel Coward, was very nice, but I was shocked at British theatre customs! First of all, there was no free playbill like on Broadway – you had to pay for it. Second, we sat down and noticed that everyone around us was walking in with beverages. Glasses of wine, soda, and liquor. They were serving them from the bar in the lobby. Then I noticed that everyone also had bags of snacks. The lady behind us pulled out a plastic package of popcorn, other people had chips. Food and drink, not only allowed, but sold and encouraged in the theatre! I was horrified. Then, to my right, I saw a young girl posing in front of the stage curtain, and her father snapping the photo. Aww that’s so nice, I thought, and then it slowly dawned on me. Photography. In. A. Theatre. I am STILL scarred from trying to take a group picture in Spelling Bee, a low budget, non-famous, show – and our picture was facing AWAY from the stage. If we had been in NY at least two ushers would have run and tackled that man before he could have said “Cheese”. But nope, here, wide open photographic opportunities before the curtain went up. Fine, I said, and I snapped a picture.

Ah, New York City. But so conditioned am I that I could only take one and didn’t dare pose with it. We settled into a good show despite the distractions caused by the crinkling of popcorn bags and the scent of brandy and coke wafting over from the person on my right. Oh, and during the “interval” or intermission, they were selling mini Haagen-Dazs ice cream cups. I felt like I was at a baseball game, although they don’t know that game here, as my linguistics teacher admitted. Since we didn’t have enough money to partake in traditional British theatre cuisine, we headed to the McDonalds across the street after the show was over, and sank blissfully into milk shakes and fries from the 99p menu. I realized afterwards that it was Feb 10, and I had officially been there for one month, and had therefore honored my vow to abstain from American fast food chains for a month. Thank god that's over.

Wednesday was a weird day. I had dropped my phone the day before around 3:30pm and had to reset the clock, but had forgotten that it follows military time. So when I set my alarm for 8:30 before I went to sleep, I did not realize that I should have set it for 20:30 if I wanted to wake up in the morning. I woke up around 22:00 and was incredibly confused because I couldn’t believe I had slept the entire day because I hadn’t even gone to bed that late, but then I noticed the sun coming in, and by the time I pieced together what had happened, it wasn’t worth going to my 10am seminar. My mom was having surgery that day though, and I was worried about it and the fact that I was so far away and couldn’t be of any help. So I decided to put my missed class to good use and I looked up Catholic churches in the area. I found St. James which was only a 5 minute walk away, and I went to noon mass. It was gothic style so it was huge with vaulted ceilings and it echoed nicely. There was no music since it was a weekday mass and that threw me off a bit, and there was a communion rail, which I had never experienced before. But I got the hang of it and I lit a candle for mom before I left. It was a feast day of Mary, and there were more people than I expected at the mass. On the way back I explored Marylebone High Street, which is one of my new favorite streets, packed with little shops and a Waitrose – finally a nearby BIG NORMAL grocery store. Hooray! The prices were normal and the selection was 10 times bigger than Tesco or Sainsbury’s, but still no Chex Mix. I had my night class, which was frustrating as usual because of the 5 or 6 people there I am the quickest learner. And I feel bad always answering so I try to do it in moderation but sometimes if I don’t answer we just sit there in silence. It is awkward and it is the longest 3 hours of my week. Mom’s surgery went fine, and I got to talk to her a bit on the phone via skype+cell.

Thursday I had my Modernism class and then it was the weekend again. I stopped into a Ryman’s on the way home and got a dry erase board – finally a to-do list! And it’s a good thing, too, because there is a lot of stuff to remember to do this week. That night Hayley, Joy, Verity, and I went to see Benjamin Button since it had just come out Feb 6 here. I assured them it was a good movie, and it was just as good if not better the second time around. I noticed more details, and I could appreciate more artistic elements of the movie without focusing on the plot. And let’s face it, Brad Pitt is pretty amazing looking. It still threw me off seeing previews for movies, though. There was a preview for Grand Torino or something with Clint Eastwood and I said to Hayley “Oh my housemate Dana saw that, she said it was violent but good” and then the screen said “Coming Soon.” Weird.

Friday I didn’t do much of anything. I guess I read and did homework and went on Facebook.

Saturday I wanted to do something since I had been a lazy bum the day before and most people I knew were either in Amsterdam or Brussels and it was going to be an uneventful Valentine's Day and I began to realize that the time that passes is time that can never be recreated. So Joy and I went to Camden Lock Market. It was like a giant Hot Topic flea market. There was a maze of back-to-back, side-to-side stalls with clothes on racks piled so high you couldn’t see past the one next to you. There were some accessories too, and Joy and I each got a bag. I was looking for a big purse, because I have my Vera Bradley tote and my purple shoulder strap bag, but I needed one that was fashionable AND big AND collapsible enough to be worn out or packed. I found the perfect bag and I am in love with its many pockets and compartments and it will be a great carry-on bag for Italy because I can probably fit a change of clothes and some toiletries in addition to my normal purse stuff. We also went to Argos and I got a much-needed second set of sheets, red. And we went to the Pound Store right down the road, or more accurately, the 99p Store. And I bought some kitchen necessities and some snacks. When I got home I booked my flight back from Rome (which had dropped from 77Euro to 22Euro) and a bus to get back from Stansted in the wee hours of the morning on April 8. It was not a good day for my bank account.

Yesterday I did homework all day and finished the reading for Modernism. I was actually very engaged in reading that novel, Riceyman Steps. Maybe because it takes place in London and they go to Madame Tussauds in it, so it’s tangible in a way.

Today I didn’t have class but I will be missing Word/Sentence Wednesday night because we are doing a Shakespeare walking tour as part of the social programme, so I went to his other class that was today at 10:30. Only to find that this class is actually a week behind and I was settling in to the exact same lecture as last week. Great. But since I was already up I took a different route home, got a little lost, explored, walked down random streets, and got to Marylebone High St where I spent a quality amount of time (and £17) in Waitrose and got a lot of delicious food. Tonight I am planning on making ziti. Which I have to go get started actually.

London Lingo for the week:

"digestives" - cookies. More specifically, graham-cracker-based cookies.
“proper” as in “They were proper drunk.” – I’m having trouble translating it, because its sort of self-explanatory. I guess its something along the lines of “really,” but not really.
anything, everything = “Eh ni thing, Ev ri thing”
urinal = “your eye nal”

I sit at my desk and look out at my view every day, and when I can see through the clouds, the sky is consistently scarred and rescarred with criss-crossing contrails from planes to London City Airport and Heathrow. I can watch the air traffic and can usually count at least 5 planes in the sky at once. And the thought just occurred to me that I will be on one of those planes in a few months. And just as actually coming to London was not fathomable to me a month and a half ago, leaving London is unimaginable at this moment. Who knows if I will ever come back? I’ve grown attached to this city in the relatively short time I’ve been here already, and I can’t imagine giving it up and leaving it behind me with a contrail.

Love, Amanda

Day 26 - A Day Late Friend

I have allocated myself about 10 minutes to update. Oops.
Well Thursday seems to be the day to blog since my weekend starts today; I had wanted to blog more than once a week but for now this is the way it is. It’s not even as though I’m horribly busy – it’s the opposite actually – I just don’t feel like updating half the time. I feel like sleeping. Or talking on skype/aim. Or playing tetris on facebook. Or eating. Usually eating.
Let’s see last Friday I got a pair of boots! I returned my Primark ones and got ones at Barretts, a shoe store on Oxford St. They had amazing sales going on, and I got these black flat mid calf leather boots with buckles, and waterproofing spray. They were regularly £50 and I got them for £20. Yay! It really made me so happy to finally have them!
I wore them on Saturday when Rachel, Joy and I went to the British Museum and I left my camera at home. I saw Egyptian mummies, Greek/Roman statues, and the Rosetta Stone. Which I can’t show you because I forgot my camera. Sorry. It is free so I will go back I promise. We ate lunch at Pizza Express and it was delicious, though not REALLY pizza. That night we decided to go check out a club (FINALLY!) called Tiger Tiger in Piccadilly and I remembered my camera. I was so tired from the museum that I came home and napped and had dinner before we went out. It was free before 10pm, so we arrived at 9:45 and of course had to wait for an hour on the queue. Here’s a pic of me, Joy, Rachel, and Beth waiting outside.

We ended up having to pay the £10 cover but that’s not too bad, and they barely checked our IDs. Then it was another £2 per coat. I didn’t have a drink there but it was £5.60 for Joy’s Sex on the Beach. Average. It was pretty crowded and there was the constant thud thud of the beat but no one was really dancing enthusiastically, partly because there was barely any music playing. We checked out the upstairs after doing the coat check-bathroom-bar run and there were a good amount of tables and a few people were nodding their heads to the beat but no one was really into it. It would have been easier to start dancing if a lot of people were dancing as well but most people were there to hang out and talk, it seemed. The music wasn’t on very loud at all. As we were making our way back downstairs Lady Gaga Just Dance came on and of course that’s what we did. But the entire night was like that – 75% bad techno-esque music and 25% decent dancing songs. Around 1 Rachel and Beth left and Joy and I were standing in our spot for literally 30 seconds before 2 guys came up to us. They were from Dubai, and one of them was really enthusiastic. He grabbed both of us in a big bear hug and was like “WHY ARE YOU NOT DANCING!? DANCE WITH ME!” to which we nervously laughed and replied that the music sucked which was why we weren’t dancing. Crazy Dubaian started to dance/suffocate Joy after introducing me to/throwing me at his friend, Calm Dubaian. I was glad to have the politer one, who said something about working in a bank. Maybe that used to be impressive, but not any more. Although if you still have a job in a bank I guess it is sort of impressive. The recession, or “credit crunch” as the Britains have deemed it, has hit hard over here too. I hate the name they’ve given it though because it sounds as though all you need is orange juice and some toast for it to be part of this complete breakfast. After pretending to dance to bad music with a bad dancer (no coming-up-behind-you-hands-on-hip-bones-grinding here – I was holding his hand and he was twirling me around) I rescued Joy from being dance-floor-molested (he actually picked her up at one point. Maybe he was high?) and we escaped by using the boyfriend defense mechanism and by running for the coat check as best we could in hurting high heels through the sea of people that had gathered. Checking to make sure all of our body parts were still where they belonged – Joy had to do this more urgently than me – we got our coats and limped to the bus stop. The N453 looked like heaven on wheels.
Sunday I don’t think I got out of my pajamas. I just did some homework and read a little. Then it started snowing. Ladies and gentlemen, I was here for the London Blizzard of 2009.
Usually snow doesn’t stick here. But this batch did, and it was the most snow they’d had for 18 years. Five whole inches were on the ground by the morning, so naturally everything shut down. The Tube stopped running. Buses stopped running. Taxis were nowhere to be seen. People didn’t go in to work. Classes were cancelled. Every school was closed. Shops didn’t open. Ambulance service was limited to life threatening cases only. Five. Inches.
It continued snowing throughout the day and I didn’t have any classes to cancel unfortunately. Shouts from snowball fights could be heard out my window for about 24 hours straight. Impromptu snowmen reposed on every street. It was magical.

By Tuesday the snow was black, as it gets in any city. The streets and sidewalks were icy, as London doesn’t have snow plows, and I was very glad to have my rainboots when I went to class. This whole week classes were half empty because of the snow. Apparently it is still snowing places. Hayley was stuck at her house after the weekend because the trains stopped running all week. As far as I know she is still there.
I walked through Regent’s Park yesterday and took some pictures of the snow.

And now I really have to go because we are meeting at the London Eye for the Social Programme at 5:30. We are doing that (ahh heights) and then a South Bank Pub Walk, and then I might go out to O’Neills with friends from my Modernism class. We’ll see.

Also: touch wood = knock on wood and pisser = fun time not necessarily meaning wholesome fun.

This took much longer than 10 minutes.
I will write again soon!

Love, Amanda

Day...Nineteen: A Week in Review

Bon nuit.
Perhaps I’ll start out with my list of things I’ve learned since we last spoke, since that may be the most [only?] interesting part for you:

Vocab:
fit = good looking and/or dateable, as in “He was the fittest boy in the school” or “We passed notes about how fit he was”
bum = butt
fag = cigarette
jumper = cardigan
typex = white out
what’s on = what’s going on, what’s up, as in “What’s on in London tonight?”
fancy = like
neat vodka = straight vodka
mate = buddy
trousers = pants
cheers = thanks
chemist = pharmacy/ist

Now make a sentence using at least three of these vocabulary words: “Can I bum a fag off you mate? Cheers!”
Except for the fact that bum is used in a different context here. Anyway…

Facts:
BAFTA = British version of the Grammy’s
They have something called “brown sauce” that is served along with ketchup, which is something like vinegar-y and soy-sauce-y barbeque sauce? I don’t really know. It’s weird, but apparently you dip chips (fries) in it and/or put it on sausage.
Going to uni (college) does not have a “party” connotation. At all.
Until six-form (optional pre-uni schooling occurring after you are 16 years old) all schools in England, public or private, require uniforms.
Common crisp (chip) flavors in increasing order of weirdness: Ready Salted, Sea Salt and Vinegar, Cheese and Onion, Flame Grilled Steak, Prawn Cocktail, Roasted Glazed Ham

And summary of this week’s events:
Well when I left off a week ago, I went to hang out with Hayley and Joy, and the three of us talked and hung out for about 9 hours straight. We went to buy alcohol, and bargained with the guy so we got a regular bottle of Smirnoff for 15 pounds, which is not that great compared to American prices but he was originally selling it for 20. The biggest bottle that would cost about $20-23 was being sold for 27 Pounds. I really need a pound sign key. Insert symbol perhaps? £ There we go. Who knows if that will show up correctly online.
Anyway, we made some drinks and started talking while the chicken defrosted and before we knew it, it was 11pm! So we had dinner around midnight and kept talking until 4am. It was really fun though and I am so happy I found them, and I am especially happy that they live on my floor!
Friday was a lazy day I think, can’t remember much of what I did. Maybe I went grocery shopping. Probably. And we were supposed to go out with two girls we met through study abroad but they picked the club called CRYSTAL “Where the young and wealthy of London come out to play.” Young? Check. Wealthy. Nope. From London? Eh, half check. £20 cover charge? No way. £12 drinks? I’ll stay in, thanks.
Joy went with them though, and they had fun. But true story- a cheap drink was £12. I don’t even want to think about how much that is in dollars. Around $18 I guess. And that means the cover charge was $30. Oof.
Saturday was our social programme trip to Blenheim Palace and Oxford. Which was amazing. It was nice to get out of London and to drive around outside of it, and we were in the front of the coach (charter bus) so we had a good view. Blenheim Palace is where the Duke of Marlborough lives, and the first Duke of Marlborough was John Churchill, Winston’s great great great (etc.) grandfather. Apparently Johnny C. did something so amazing in a war that Queen Anne gave him that title and a shitload of land and told him he could build a house on it and she would pay for it.
Good thing she never signed any official contract, because over a decade later he finally finished his “house”:

We didn’t get to go inside, unfortunately, but shivered our way around the grounds until we came up to the front gate. While we were walking someone driving a sleek black all-tinted-window Lamborghini (presumably the current Duke) drove past us to leave. He is 84 and just married his third wife in December. I guess that’s how he’s still picking the women up. I mean, that and the fact that he has a palace. Right.

We walked past some sheep, who acquiescingly baa-ed for us.

After that we had coffee/tea/biscuits (cookies) in a small pub housing a portrait of dear Winston called (a bit ironically) The White House. Just up the road was Churchill’s grave but I guess we had one too many cookies because all of a sudden it was time to leave. We went to Oxford for the rest of the day, which was sufficiently amazing. It was founded in 1170 and now has something around 15? maybe? don’t quote me on that one colleges that make up the University and because the combined campuses are so big, and because one college has a cathedral, it is considered a city.
One of the shop-lined streets:

Amazing architecture:

Massive, massive library. At least, one of them:

We had lunch at a pub, where I got my first fish n chips!:

It was surprisingly very cheap – if you ordered two meals it was 7.20 for both so I split it with Joy and it only cost me 3.60. Nice. And it was absolutely delicious! I mean, you can’t usually go wrong with frying food, but I think I could have eaten about 3 more plates. And yes fish n chips always comes with peas.
For the rest of the afternoon we visited Christ Church, one of the colleges at Oxford. It was breathtaking.

We were able to visit the dining hall there, but we had to wait until lunch stopped being served. This dining room is extra-special not just because it’s old, but because Hogwarts’ Great Hall is an exact replica of this dining hall – but while this dining hall only fits 3 long tables, the Great Hall has been modified to fit 4. It was pretty cool to be in a room like that, and, Hogwarts-style, the walls were covered in portraits.

The steps leading up to the dining hall were also used in the Harry Potter movies, so I had to get a picture with them as well.

We went into the Christ Church Cathedral, which was amazingly old and full of stained glass depicting major events in the history of England’s church, although looking back it pales in comparison to St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, which I saw today, but more on that later. Just standing in the quad of Christ Church College was breathtaking. Joy, Rachel and I in the quad:

Man were we tired when we got home, though. It’s tough going on walking tours all day, especially when its cold out, and especially when we got up at 7am. Thus, Sunday I don’t believe I got out of my pajamas.
Monday I had my Renaissance lecture for the first time, which was, well, a lecture. I found by trial and error the Regent Library and got some reading done for Word and Sentence Structure. Apparently everyone from that class actually took all the copies of the books out, so there was only one left which is probably gone by now. I read in the library and put the book back on the shelf. How nice of me.
Tuesday was Joy’s birthday, and I had class 11:30- 2:30. After that we went shopping at Primark (we being me, Joy, and Hayley) and despite the constant crowded Walmart-on-Black-Friday frenzy that exists there, I managed to walk away with a new purple dress, black tights, a strapless bra and black boots for just over £30. And the boots, which were about £15, I am going to return. Reluctantly. They are exactly what I’m looking for, but they are very tight with skinny pants, they were already scratched, and they probably aren’t waterproof in the least. I might have to spend a little more to get the quality right. Oh well. So that means dress + tights + bra for £15. Not too shabby.
We went food shopping after because we had invited the frail group of friends we’d made so far to come over for dinner and drinks before we went out to celebrate. Deciding to cook our own chicken-vegetable-noodle stir-fry, we procured the ingredients and the necessary alcohol and by that time it was about 6:30. We had invited people to come over for 7, so I took the world’s quickest shower and was all ready by 7:30. It was overall a fun night, but it was comprised of an awkward group of people to begin with, since Philipp didn’t really know Joy too well and the three Brazilian girls that came did nothing but talk to each other in Portuguese in the corner before they left an hour later. But we introduced beer pong to the UK yay! Except we had forgotten to buy solo cups (if they even exist here) and instead of playing with beer, we played with water and then proceeded to take shots of “neat” vodka instead. Brilliant. Also, we modified it slightly since the table is attached to the counter, so we were playing bowling-alley style instead of facing each other. But it still worked. We had a mini tournament going on when we all started to feel the effects of 5-7 neat vodka shots within 2 hours, and, well, we didn’t make it out that night. But I think Joy still had fun (at least before 11:30) and we introduced BP to a German and a Brit. As Philipp said, “I love getting drunk to beer ping.” Hahaha =)
Needless to say Wednesday I was very reluctant to wake up but classes were all right. I am proud of myself because after Word/Sentence Structure I talked to Matt, my cute (but perhaps gay) lecturer and soon-to-be-PhD in Linguistics, and we discussed grad school and the different fields of linguistics. His field is syntax, and while I think I prefer phonology, syntax may be infinitely more applicable to analyzing the linguistic structure of modernist texts, which is what my hypothetical Rhodes Scholarship application will say. Ah, Oxford…
And today I had class and then hunted for a sandwich, specifically a BLT, and while places usually have a wide section of ready-made sandwiches, everything was slathered with mayonnaise. Gross! So, refusing to be defeated even after nearly getting run over on Baker St, I went into Tesco and bought my own bacon, lettuce, tomato and rolls. Ha! And apart from the bacon being much thicker and different (but I didn’t see any other options) it was wonderful.
I skyped with Dana and Johanna who are in their apartment in Italy! and it was great to see them. And then I skyped with Mom. And then Joy and I went to meet Rachel for the Evensong at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Evensong is a religious service, but it consists predominantly of hymns sung by the men’s choir, and it is one of the most beautiful and calming things I have ever experienced. The combination of being naturally tardy and having a 10-minute-standstill because of Tube maintenance doesn’t make for arriving on time, so at 5:01 we dashed up the steps of St. Paul’s and through the door and into –

it was perhaps the most magnificent, ornate, and breathtaking sight I have seen in my entire life. Words cannot capture it. And sadly, neither can pictures, because no photography was allowed. I literally stopped in my tracks. I was awestruck.
And then the choir started singing. And it was echo-ey and spiritual and otherworldly. The hymns were in English but it sounded like they were speaking Latin because the sound reverberated throughout the entire (huge doesn’t even begin to describe it) room. If you would like to approximate the sensation with pictures, Google search for “st paul’s cathedral ceiling”. But nothing compares to the magnitude of being inside it. I will definitely be going back so that I can look properly at everything without feeling irreverent.
Well, I think we are all caught up for the most part. Ooh! I found a place that served slices of pizza!!! It was on Oxford St and I was walking by really fast so I didn’t look very closely and the pizza didn’t look thin at all but who cares!
Speaking of pizza – I passed by a PizzaHut tonight. It was dimly lit and there were candles on the tables. WTF. McDonalds and KFC also have cool comfy chairs and nice tables. Maybe that’s why they don’t seem to frown upon fast food so much here – it might actually have a certain quality to it! I will let you know come Febrary 10th, when my avowed month of abstaining from American fast food chains is over.

So much for writing in more digestible entries. Je suis desole.

Arfn (Au Revoir for now)
Love, Amanda

Day Twelve Update

Ahem. Yes. Where was I?

So we had the boat party Friday night. Here is a belated picture of me and Joy before we left for that.

Saturday morning we met Rachel at Harrods, stopping for breakfast along the way. I had the worst bagel I have ever eaten in my life. I guess I am spoiled living near NYC. Harrods was nice, big, versatile, expensive, expansive, exhausting.

It was very crowded, and we probably shouldn’t have gone on a Saturday during their sale season – that’s right, sale seasons. Jan-Feb is a big sale season for all stores and then there’s another one during the summer I think. And I’m not sure if they offer very many sales in between. Weird. We walked around a bit, wandering streets and getting lost and finding our way back. Rule #1 of living in London: Always carry a map with you. It comes in handy. My stocking-stuffer-turned-life-saver also features a Tube map, which is indispensible. Nothing too exciting happened, and we headed back to Marylebone while Rachel headed to Wigram. I spent the rest of the day reading.
Sunday I didn’t set an alarm and slept in until about 1pm. Lovely. I leisurely showered and had breakfast by 2:30, and then just hung out and read for the rest of the day.
Monday classes started, although my Monday class is only every other week. Actually, let me give you my schedule.
Monday: Even weeks, Renaysance lecture 10-11
Tuesday: Odd weeks, Modernism lecture 10-11; every week, Third World Studies seminar/lecture 11:30-2:30
Wednesday: Renaysance seminar 10-12, Word/Sentence Structure seminar/lecture 6-9
Thursday: Modernism seminar 10-12
The end. So I am enjoying my weekend right now :)
Monday I found a bigger grocery store nearby (and not down a creepy road) called Sainsbury’s. Still only about a quarter of the size of Stop n Shop but it will do. Classes were all right – I think I’m really going to enjoy Modernism. We’re reading James Joyce’s Ulysses right now and I am, to my surprise, actually very engaged in the story. I thought it would be like Portrait – difficult to read and follow and care about. But it’s actually quite fun to read. Although I am only about one-sixth of the way through. Renaissance has the potential to be boring, but a girl I met today said that the [100% of our grade!!] final exam isn’t too hard. Whew. Third World Studies is a little weird since I am not really familiar with (or interested in?) the subject at all, but I will grin and bear it all the same since it is satisfying both Honors Global Engagement and Social Science Core. And Word/Sentence Structure is a small class, only 6 including me, and the lecturer for now is a grad student from UCL (University College London). Who was very nervous even if he was very cute, and very well dressed for that matter, but who knows in this city? It looks as though it will be enlightening though – we reviewed morphology (::sigh:: Oh Fitzgibbons. Oh HEL.) which we’ll be doing for the first 5 weeks, and then syntax will be the last 5. There was a guy next to me, an adult, who was clearly not a native speaker of English but who had taken Intro to Linguistics last semester. He was giving the lecturer a hard time because he had already learned that stuff (Intro Linguistics is a prereq) and the poor guy was already shaken up without worrying about boring us. Then we did a few examples and he started telling me that “at” is a morpheme in “misrepresentation” because “at” is a word, you know, like “at the store”. It took a lot of patience to set him straight on that one. But he couldn’t understand why “grat” was a morpheme in “ungrateful” since “grat” doesn’t mean anything – it’s not a real word. Ugh. Free and bound morphemes buddy. There’s a difference. And here he was yawning every five seconds. Maybe he could use a little refresher course.
Anyway. Let’s see what I’ve learned so far.
quid = pound
y’alright = Hi, how are you?
hob = stove
People rarely hold the door for others.
Outlets have power switches to turn them on and off.
Brits say “like” in the middle of sentences much much less than we do.
They LOVE New York City.
They LOVE Obama.
Boots are the only shoes that they wear.
Carriageway = main road
uni = college
knicker = female underwear
pants = male underwear
loo, toilet = bathroom
fringe = bangs (hair)
If they go to college right from high school (or whatever its equivalent is) it is only 3,000 Pounds per year tuition for any school in England, regardless of how much their parents make.
Marmite tastes AWFUL.

And there’s more but I can’t think of anything right now. I’m going to go hang out with Joy and Hayley, a British girl (yay!) from our floor that I met earlier in the week, for dinner and drinks. The three of us saw Bride Wars yesterday (8.50 agh) and it was actually really cute!

Actually I should probably leave you with a picture of my room:

and my view:
Goodbye for now – I will try to update in shorter, more digestible posts in the future.
Love,
Amanda

Day Eleven - Catching up

I have been meaning to update for about a week now. Needless to say, a lot has happened. I’ve made exponential strides in the attainment of friends, the exploration of my surroundings, and the advancement of my studies, as it were.
On Tuesday of last week I had my registration appointment with a study abroad advisor. I officially registered for Renaissance Literature (which I found out today is pronounced, here at least, runAYsance), Modernism II, Introduction to Third World Studies, and Word and Sentence Structure. They are split up, for the most part, into large lectures, from 50-100 students, and smaller seminars, which have about the average 20 ish students that a Marist class would have. Each of these meet once a week, so each class meets twice a week, but the lecturer is usually different than the seminar tutor. My Modernism and Renaysance lectures only meet every other week, though, so at the end of each even week, my weekend will last from noon on Thursday to 10am Tuesday. Pretty sweet. I haven’t been to Word/Sentence Structure yet but I will go tonight from 6-9. After the appointment, my orientation group met and worked on the challenge at New Cavendish, and we were able to get most of the questions answered by looking things up on Philipp’s computer. We searched for something to eat in the area but, after one of the characteristic 15 minute rain showers hit, we ended up at Pret, and I’ve found that I often end up at Pret, which is disappointing since they are almost as frequent as Starbucks. We agreed that we would meet the following day, but at a TBA time that would be determined that night via (expensive) text messages. That evening my homesickness hit a new low – yes, I had had social interaction that day, but it wasn’t friendship. Time passes so slowly here, and I feel like I’ve been for a month instead of 11 days. That night after dinner I missed everyone so much that I curled up in my bed and cried. I then proceeded to play computer games since I had nothing else to do with my time, apart from reading for classes, and was numbly aiming and clicking when I heard a knock at my door. I made sure my eyes weren’t too puffy and answered it – it was Savesha, the girl from 7I, and another girl from 7G. The other girl (whose name may be something like Raffi, but I forget) introduced herself and they asked how I liked it here so far. They echoed my observation that it was quiet and Savesha sympathized: “its booring I knaowr!” I learned that Hayley (who I have subsequently met) lived in 7H, and Ruth (who I have not yet met) lived in 7K, but the girl in 7L was unknown to us, so we went down to knock on her door.
This, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, was the sharp upward peak of my experience, the turn-around point, and the graph o(t) of my optimism o over time t that I have been here is certainly undifferentiable at point P where P is last Tuesday night around 10pm. A blond girl opened the door, and said “Hi” in an unmistakably American way. I looked at her sweatpants, which said “Mary Washington” down one leg, and knew before she told us that she was from Virginia. Fredericksburg, Virginia, to be exact. Which is where I grew up. I lived there for about 6 years and did all of my elementary school there, at Smith Station Elementary. The girl’s name, appropriately, was Joy.
I may sound like I am being dramatic, but it really was a great moment. We started talking – she was studying abroad this semester as well, and was in the exact same boat as I was in dealing with the changes. She hadn’t made very many friends yet, and hadn’t really explored too much yet, but wanted to travel and experience London and just needed a friend. We exchanged cell phone numbers and I was ecstatic. Finally, a real, full-fledged friend. I IMed my mom and roommate, telling them that things were looking up – I had found a friend! – and then I realized that my friend Rupert, who I hadn’t heard from since I left the States Friday night despite the fact that I had sent him an email, and who I greatly missed, was online and had IMed me! Perhaps that was the peak of my happiness.
The next morning (as it was decided, predominantly by me) at 11:30, I took the Tube to Piccadilly Circus where I met with my group. It is similar to Times Square in that it displays several electronic billboards and is surrounded by the theatre district, but it is, as you may have guessed, a Circle and not a Square, and the billboards are positioned on London’s historical first theatre.
We walked around for a bit on a scavenger-type hunt through the theatres, past the Royal Opera House and the Royal Ballet. We saw Drury Lane, but unfortunately there was no muffin man to be spotted. After that Gina had an internship orientation to go to and Philipp was meeting a friend, so just me and Rachel were left. She had been to London twice before, so we spent the day wandering around and seeing the sights. We found the National Portrait Gallery, which houses so many famous portraits it is unbelievable, and after a while all the faces started to look the same (but it is free so we can go back anytime we want). We turned the corner and found Trafalgar Square, the vastness of which was simply amazing. I cannot put into words the aura of history and grandeur that it has.

We posed with the Lions.

We could see Big Ben just down the road.



Taking a detour from the main roads, we walked through St. James’s Park, which I’m sure will be so gorgeous in the spring. It was one of the coldest days yet, so strolling in the park was more rushed than enjoyable. Stopping by the bird-filled lake, we were told by a man sitting on the bench behind us as he rolled his cigarette that a pelican was once seen to eat a pigeon in that very park – he had seen it on YouTube. Sure enough…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PO5ifLzLYiU

Disclaimer: It’s not for the faint at heart, or for the animal lover.
From the park we could see a huge old building nearby, so we went towards it.


We crossed the Horse Guards Parade Ground, and the sprawling building used to be the headquarters of the Royal Army, but now just houses the Horse Guards. As we strolled under and through the building, the clock struck 3pm, and Voila! The changing of the guards happened right in front of us.

I hope to see the changing of the Buckingham Palace guards as well. We walked towards Big Ben and Parliament, and headed behind them to Westminster Abbey, but since the entrance fee was 9 pounds, we decided to save it for another day.

We did some shopping along Victoria St, and later headed to Primark on Oxford St, which is the cheapest place around to buy clothes. So I did. Three shirts, a scarf, and a change purse later we needed some nourishment! So we hunted out a local pub near Victoria St Station – the Brass Monkey. It was full of after-workers, ties loosened, jackets unbuttoned, mostly men but some women too, all holding pints or glasses of wine and laughing, talking, blowing of steam. We managed to squeeze in and find a table, and I think we shocked the bartender when we asked for some food. The food was decent and the “chips” (this time referred to as such) were good, and I ordered a half pint of cider, Strongbow, which I must say I enjoyed significantly more than beer. After that, I jumped on the Tube towards Marylebone Hall. I was exhausted.
Thursday I slept in and then headed to the Regent St campus to turn in our group’s challenge. After accidentally heading to an International Film Festival instead, I hurried to the New Cavendish campus, because the answers were due by 1pm. I had a lazy day until the evening, when Joy and I went out to explore Oxford St, which I later found out, is actually the longest shopping street in all of Europe! We went into Selfridges, an (unbelievably) upscale department store, and we deduced that most department stores have a candy counter – theirs happened to be a Godiva counter. After gaping at some sweets and gasping at the prices, we found the discounted Christmas candy – Hallelujah! – and we bought a giant chocolate Christmas tree – 1 kilo of solid milk chocolate dusted with edible gold lustre. It had originally been 39.99, but had been reduced to 5. A lovely investment.

We ate at Garfunkels, a restaurant on Oxford, and both tried Cottage Pie – a variation on Shepherd’s Pie, I assume. There was no pie crust involved, unfortunately, but a round casserole dish filled with “beef mince” – shredded beef and some onions, etc. in a gravy sauce – topped with mashed potatoes. It was actually pretty good, and something I would definitely order again. We shopped around a little more, but most of the stores were closing around 8. We hopped on the Tube to Edgeware Rd to hunt out a grocery store that we had heard was there, but we turned the wrong way when we left the station. After passing one-too-many “Mohammad’s Falafel Palace”es along the poorly lit and increasingly rundown street, we figured out our mistake and turned back. Finally we saw Waitrose, the grocery store, and we were just checking out the all-organic and far-too-expensive produce department when they started closing up – the store was only open until 9pm. Reluctantly we checked out, me with my head of lettuce and two new potatoes, and headed back with our (predominantly edible) day’s purchases. We ate the top tier of the tree when we got back.
Friday we had orientation round 2 which was relatively boring, but I was a pro at getting to the room it was held in since I had found it somewhat unintentionally the day before. One of my lectures, Modernism, was also to be held in that room so I was glad to have scoped out its location early. The coordinators talked about health issues and university services and delved into culture shock a bit, which is something that I have doubtlessly been experiencing. I have been more depressed and introverted and headachy than usual, and I could sleep at any given time of the day for as long as I could (although not always at those times when I was actually trying to sleep). I was lonely because, after all, my friend count was at 2, which, despite being a huge leap from where I was earlier in the week, was not anywhere near the sense of togetherness and family and the comfort of reliability that I was accustomed to.
Joy, Rachel and I walked around and explored Regent St, found ourselves on Oxford St, and meandered down side roads and through little shops until we came upon Bond St. We were all hungry but we only had about two hours before the Study Abroad Boat Party started, so we parted ways with Rachel, who did not end up attending. Joy and I got ready (both wearing shirts that we had recently purchased on Oxford St) and took the [incrediblycrowdedwithcommuters] Tube just before 6. We got to Monument Station and followed the crowd (cloud?) of Westminster students down to our docked boat, which remained docked the entire time. We caught a brief glance of the Tower Bridge before we got on the boat, but I wasn’t able to snap any shots unfortunately.
The boat party was awkward at first and I found myself wondering – “How did these people find such huge groups of friends already?!” – while eyeing the bar and pondering what my second legal drink order would be. Everyone was walking around with raspberry-colored beer, which upon further investigation was identified as a “Snakebite,” so I ordered that. Memories of the Poison Skippy of Halloween 08 flooded back into my mind as the beer/liquor/fruit juice mixture flooded my taste buds, and I hurried (as fast as one can hurry to drink something with unwilling taste buds) to finish the cup. For the rest of the night I stuck with unmistakably sweet Malibu and Cokes, for 3.60 a cup. I found Philipp, who greeted me with kisses on my cheeks, and he became friend #3. He was sitting with a bunch of other Germans and a girl from Denmark, all of whom proceeded to kiss me on both cheeks when we were introduced – Ah, Europe! I forget what the French call it. Something like “biser” I think. Oh well. The music was the same thing I’d hear in Hatters, except when it cleared out towards the end of the night and they played The Thong Song. That was weird.
Fourteen pounds lighter and a little tipsy, we walked (me, in heels, doing whatever sort of thing came closest to walking – stumbling, tripping, jogging quickly with short steps so as to better keep my balance – I’m sure you can picture the comic scene on the cobblestone) back to the Monument Tube. Tube stations may be a desolate place at night, and I was certainly glad I had Joy with me. We hopped on the Circle Line Westbound and after realizing that we should have taken the Eastbound, tried out two more lines and made it back to Baker Street, where I bought the worst excuse for an eggroll I have ever experienced in my life before we came back and went to sleep.
And since it is 2pm and I still have almost a week left to summarize, I had better leave it at that for now. Tomorrow when I finish class I will continue, but my head is heavy and my eyes are sleepy, or any combination of those words.
Love,
Amanda

Day Three - London and Loneliness

I wrote this yesterday but hadn't created a blog yet:

It's technically my third day in London and I haven't posted anything yet, and I want to keep a relatively updated account of my experience here. I don't want to put restrictions on it, like I must update every 24 hours or something, because I know I will just end up disappointing myself. But I don't want to forget anything that happens here, so let's see what I've done so far.

Well I took the plane Friday night after having a bad reaction to some face cream which left me looking like I had a red mustache. Excellent start. The flight was okay, but I didn't sleep much, maybe an hour or so, just watched Everybody Loves Raymond reruns and listened to music. Looking down at cities at night is so beautiful, but once we got up past Canada it was nothing but darkness. They were preparing us for a lot of turbulence but it didn't get very bad until the end of the flight, maybe the last hour. There were lots of Brits on the plane as far as I could tell, and after being here a few days I definitely see a difference in the way Americans and Brits look. I don't know exactly what it is, but you can tell who belongs here and who is just pretending. As much as I try to fit in, I know I haven't really got it down yet (it IS only the third day) but I'm not sure what I need to change - clothing plays a big part, but it's also the way they carry themselves, or their stride, or something in their faces that tells you what their accent will be before they speak.

Anyway, the woman sitting next to me was very small, Asian, young, late 20s early 30s perhaps, and we talked briefly. She lives in Westminster, which ironically enough is not the town that I am living in. I live in Marylebone (appropriately) but the main campus is in Westminster.

After the flight got in at Heathrow, I went through the passport check and got my luggage, and the first thing I saw when I walked out of the terminal was a Starbucks. At 7am, for someone who has eaten some airline chicken/pasta/corn/broccoli dish the night before, Starbucks looks like a sanctuary. Except for the fact that the prices were in pounds. I awkwardly shoved my luggage cart between the tiny tables at the Starbucks and then faced the dilemma of leaving it there while I waited in line. In Britian, everything seems small and narrow - the aisles, the streets, the sidewalks, the people - definitely not big enough for me, my backpack, and my luggage cart. When I sat down next to my luggage and used a Sudoku puzzle to disguise what was actually careful contemplation over how exactly to order my drink without abandoning my belongings, everyone around me seemed to be lurking predators who saw through to my undeniable (and inadequately masked) naïveté. Eventually I felt comfortable enough (and the line had gotten shorter) so I ordered my drink and then sat down to drink it, and all around me people were arriving - families, friends, lovers. I felt very alone, which was a marvel considering the huge luggage cart and stuffed backpack that accompanied me at that Starbucks table. It didn't help much when the shuttle bus came and I was its only passenger, or when the driver (who had in earlier days sold hotdogs in the venue while the Beatles played) said "So ya cayme heah aw bie yosewf, didja? At's a bit daunting isnit." Even with the phonetic alphabet I'm not sure I could accurately capture the pronunciations.

After a slight communication issue with both the reception desk in the main building and the security guard in the residence hall (both probably due to the fact that American English was my first language while British English was their second or third) I made my way up to 7J in Marylebone Hall and, upon opening the door, found myself in a hallway that ended in a desk and a window. Upon further entering the room, I realized that one of the walls of this hallway was partially made of a bed, and that this hallway, albeit a wide one by British standards, was to be my home for the next 5 months and 3 days. The doors on the left wall made up some fragmented version of a closet, and the door on my right was, indeed, the WC. Which had no TP. After calling my parents for what was surely a very expensive 9 minute phone call, I unpacked my bedding (a lovely coral-orange sponge-painted-wallpaper pattern) and collapsed into the migraine that had been demanding attention since my flight.

I awoke to the sound of my new Nokia ringtone, looked at the number that was calling me, remembered that I wasn’t familiar with British phone numbers in the first place, and answered anyway. It was Jess Durante and the rest of the Marist kids at FIE who had arrived a few days earlier, and they invited me to go explore with them. Thank God they did, because I had nothing planned and probably would have ended up sitting in my room with nothing to eat, working up the courage to step outside my building. They were meeting me at the Baker Street Tube stop, so I set up my internet, put on my coat, and went to get to know my surroundings a bit better.

I walked down Marylebone Rd and around the corner onto Baker St to get a feel for what was in close proximity. Within those two streets there reside: Pizza Hut, Kentucky Fried Chicken, McDonalds, Starbucks, a Post Office, Boots (like CVS), Tesco (a mini grocery store), Costas (like Starbucks), Pret (which is like the food portion of Starbucks only bigger) and Eat (which is like Pret). While I’m on the subject, sparkling water is a big thing here, but I haven’t tried it yet. This morning at orientation it was either coffee, tea, or sparkling water. You have to ask/look for “still water” if you want plain old H2O.

Anyway, I bought my first tube ticket (4 pounds ack!) and went with them to the Westminster stop. It was kind of weird to be in London with all of these Marist kids, but at the same time they were so familiar that it seemed relatively normal. We stepped out of the underground and literally right there in front of us was Big Ben.

After taking a good amount of photographs we walked farther down the sidewalk and then we got a good view of Parliament, which also resulted in several pictures.

Finally we walked far enough down that we could capture both of them in one shot, which made for more even better pictures.

Turning around, we had a great view of the London Eye.

And so, slowly but surely, in varying intervals of flashes, and stopping every few feet or so to snap another, we crossed the Westminster Bridge.

This was London, breathless and grandiose and photogenic. And freaking cold. After the shock of seeing the quintessential London sights faded slightly, I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything of sustenance (a Tall Caramel Frappuccino doesn’t go very far) in close to 24 hours. So we asked and found the nearest pub, All Bar One, on Chicheley St, directly behind the London Eye.

I was too nervous to order a pint, because 1) I have never ordered a drink from a bar before in my life, 2) I don’t know anything about beer, 3) I ESPECIALLY don’t know anything about foreign beer, and 4) I don’t even like beer in the first place. So I chickened out and split a bottle of wine with Jess and Lindsay with my burger and “chips” (which they disappointingly referred to as “fries” on the menu). It was nice just to hang out with everyone though, and to get to know them all a bit better. Uh oh, I just said “a bit” – the British is getting to me already!

When we headed home, it felt as though it was late at night, but it was really only around 8pm. I took the Tube and walked back from Baker St, and felt very accomplished. My first day in a new city and I was already a pro! Well, not really. But I could handle this!

Day Two – Okay, now that I’d mastered the walking-around aspect, I needed to master the making-friends aspect. My mission was to meet someone on my floor, or at least someone from the Study Abroad Program. I slept in, unloaded my All-Unied pack into the kitchen, and went to use my padlocks on my cabinets, and realized I could not figure out how to change the combination from 0000. “Perfect conversation starter!” I thought. “Hey, what’s up, I’m Amanda, I’m studying abroad this semester, do you know how to work these locks?” It would be great. I would seem friendly, casual, and not too desperate. So I fixed my hair, looked as stylish as possible, and went out into the hallway. I knocked. And I knocked. And I knocked. No one came to answer their doors. “Maybe they’re not in there, or maybe they’re asleep at 2pm,” I thought. “It’s fine.” Then I came to my next door neighbor, who had been in and out all morning, and whose music was blasting, heightening the obviousness of her presence. I knocked. I heard the shuffling of feet and the rapid clink of the peep hole being opened. And then the shuffling of feet back towards the music. Where they stayed. She didn’t even open the door – just left me standing there, the friendless foreign American, foolishly grasping a padlock that clearly lacked the key to companionship, becoming swallowed by loneliness in the deserted hallway. Defeated, trying to shake off the blatant display of unfriendliness, I went in the kitchen and put my locks on with their 0000 combination, and then – a miracle – another human was around! It turns out it was the mean girl from 7I, looking at me warily from around the kitchen door, enquiring (more British) “Ah you nyew heah?” We had a halted, slightly repetitive conversation (mostly because I am not yet used to the British accent since this is the first conversation with a Brit I’ve had consisting of more than just “Can a get you sommin to drink mam?…Wot size?”) that consisted of me stumbling over my words and clumsily fumbling with the padlock still in my hands. I don’t even remember her name, but she ended by telling me just to ask if I needed anything before disappearing out the kitchen door. As of right now, 5pm the following day, that was the last time that I saw another person on my floor.

Spurred on by the hope inspired by the possibility of a connection with another human being, I confidently set out to find the Tesco Express Google Maps had told me lay just down Baker St. It took a while to find what I needed, and the cashier gave me a dull blink as I brightly apologized, it was my first Tesco experience, while searching for the appropriate cash. I cooked pasta for dinner and returned to Tesco for a six-pack of Evian after realizing I hadn’t bought anything to drink. It was a quiet evening in my tiny room, cold (from a drafty window I think) despite the heater on high and I spent it talking on Skype and posting pictures to keep myself occupied, but as I lay in bed trying to get some sleep for my orientation in the morning, I could hear the girl from 7I in her room, with friends over, all happily talking in their jolty British accents, laughing, and I could only pick out certain words that I understood. On the other side of the wall, huddled underneath my sponge-painted blankets, alienated, lonely, and missing everyone (especially Richard), I cried for the first time.

The second day was the hardest when I moved in to Marist, I remember, and I tried to remind myself of that. I would make friends tomorrow, at orientation, where everyone is in the same boat as I am – everyone is foreign and lonely for the moment, I reassured myself. I woke up and headed to the New Cavandish campus on foot, trying to take in the sites while maintaining the pace of a local. There, I met Magnus and Ana Marie from Norway, Juliana from Brazil, Fernando and Maria from Mexico, Mohamed from Morocco, Phillip from Germany, Gina from Chicago and Rachel from New Hampshire. The last three are a part of my Orientation Challenge group, which we are meeting for tomorrow after our registration appointments at 12:45. Rachel is also the only one from her college here at Westminster, and we exchanged numbers. Other than Phillip, though, they didn’t seem too keen on hanging out (more British expressions!) beyond what’s necessary for the challenge. Hopefully I can be friends with Rachel though. She and Gina live in the same residence hall, and they are both vegetarian, but I really hope I can squeeze in there. It was so nice to be able to talk to other Americans, not that I would mind becoming good friends with someone outside of America – actually, I would prefer it. It is only the third day, but I still don’t feel as though I’ve made any worthwhile bonds. I know friendship takes time, so we’ll see what comes next. I feel pretty satisfied after today though, because I finally had a decent amount of social interaction. I also walked around a lot and found my way home, which makes me a little more confident in my geography skills.

Well, it’s almost dinner time and I think I’m going to run to Tesco to try to get some soy sauce and some salt and pepper, and maybe some sweet stuff because I have just run out of gummy bears, and hopefully later tonight I will finally be able to put pictures up and maybe stick my toes into Ulysses. We’ll see. This has taken me 2 and a half hours, but I’m glad I got it all down.
I’ll write again soon.
Love,
Amanda