As my last post was sort of depressing, or at the very least highly emotional, this one will be upbeat and cheery. I am mostly over all of that blah blah blah nonsense, and I have a fantastically relaxing vacation to talk about! I spent the last week of April in Zurich, Switzerland and the environs of Lake Como, Italy, and have plenty to talk about- day by day, because there has to be order (it's the Swiss way). This will be long and probably minutely detailed. But hey, Lena asked for it.
April 22- I spent basically the entirety of this day in transit. First, I had to get from Edinburgh to London by train. I then had to get from central London to Luton Airport by both train and shuttle bus. I then got to sit in the airport for hours (because I overestimated the amount of time that would be necessary to get through security etc etc [it turned out to be, oh, 10 minutes; seriously, Luton is awesome if you have no need to feel remotely safe or secure haha]). Then onto an easyjet plane (my favorite European budget airline), which requires walking across the tarmac since they don't get real terminals. The flight from London to Zurich was only slightly over an hour, which is nothing to someone accustomed to 6 hour flights (and 4+ hour train journeys). I got to Zurich safely and soundly, the airport there is very shiny, passport control is very easygoing, found Stacy. Stacy is a good friend from high school who goes to Northeastern and is currently working in Zurich for 6 months on co-op. We hopped on a train to downtown Zurich, then on a tram, then on a bus (all of these trips took maybe 25 minutes in total), and then reached her apartment. It was fantastic. Very clean and Ikea furnished, thanks to her apartment-mate (Gerry, a 31 year-old, fabulously wealthy, regional manager of one of the largest banks in Ireland). We stopped at a McDonald's on the way home to pick up a salad, as, like most stores in Europe, Swiss stores close early by American standards. There ensued the most complicated exchange I've ever had at a Micky-D's, as apparently neither cashier really spoke much English, and neither Stacy nor I speak German. You may assume that McDonald's is the one safe place to easily eat wherever you go. You'd apparently be wrong. Had dinner, caught up a little, went to bed.
April 23- Stacy, as it was a Wednesday, had to work. I woke up, and we had breakfast together, as we did almost every morning that I was there. She left me a ton of maps and sightseeing suggestions, as well as a Zurichcard, which, once validated, was good for all of the public transportation and entrance to some of the attractions in Zurich. Fucking awesome. I spent my day riding the trams, because I loved them (sort of similar to Boston's T, to which I am also very attached), and seeing a couple of museums and art galleries. Zurich has a staggering number of art galleries, I assume because of the fantastic amount of wealth that the city enjoys. Stacy and I met up for a late lunch (which we also did every day that I was there) at a cafe, and I got to try some Swiss food. I spent the rest of the afternoon at another museum, this one for design, where I saw one of the most interesting exhibits that I've ever seen, about different ideas of utopia expressed through design. For dinner, we went out for fondue and raclette, basically the most famous Swiss foods that there are. Delicious. Home, dealing with a minor crisis involving our hostel for the upcoming weekend in Italy, relaxing, bed.
April 24- Stacy, to work. Me, walking tour of the city, as guided by some pages from a Rick Steves guidebook. Zurich has a couple of really gorgeous churches, as well as interesting stores and historical places. All of the pictures posted on my Facebook of Zurich are from this day. I know that it looks mostly overcast and dreary, and it mostly was while I was there, but the city was still beautiful and so clean. The sun did eventually come out, so I got to Chagall's stained glass windows in the Fraumunster properly illuminated. I was also harassed by a middle-aged Italian guy on holiday, something that would become a theme (the Italian part, at least). I ran into him twice throughout the course of the day and had to make up some really lame lies as to why I couldn't hang around and help him "practice his English." He probably hated me. I failed to care. Anyway, I saw more of the city, utilizing both my two good legs and various types of public transport. I took a water taxi out onto Lake Zurich, so I got to see the city from water as well as land. Zurich isn't really a place to spend any substantial sort of vacation, but I think it would be a charming place to work and to raise a family. After another delicious lunch, which involved eating a dried beef on pretzel bread sandwich (this description does not do it justice) at the intersection of the two rivers that run through the city, I went to see the Kunsthaus, or art museum. I spent hours and hours there admiring the collection. They had a small but impressive collection of Cy Twombly works, and the rest of the modern art collection wasn't too shabby either, so I was thrilled. After that, a dinner at home. Packing for the weekend, drinking gin and tonics, and watching Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle until 2am. As we're both from NJ, pointing out the inaccuracies in that movie and getting a craving for White Castle sort of necessitates the watching of the whole thing whenever it's on TV. Bed.
April 25- Wake up (me in time to get a shower and leisurely prepare myself for the journey ahead; Stacy, not so much) and catch a 9:06 train to Como, Italy. We brought breakfast for the ride, which consisted of Birchermuesli (new favorite breakfast) and beer. Okay, the beer wasn't breakfast. More a morning snack. When we reached Italy and got off the train, we realized that we actually had no idea where our hostel was in relation to the train station or the rest of the city. We were going to leave our bags at the station and explore, but, in true Italian fashion, it was impossible to figure out what the fuck the sign for left baggage was actually telling us to do. Also, during the course of this futility, the ogling by Italian men started. Haha, oh yes, my favorite country in the world. And man, do they love me an obscene amount. Stacy and I decided to go walk around the city with our bags, in the hopes that we would maybe stumble upon something useful. Como isn't terribly large, and there's a huge lake to orient oneself with, so we had little fear of getting lost. We wandered around Como for about an hour and then decided that maybe we should head back to the train station and attempt to find a map, as we didn't really know of any other way to find out where we needed to be. Went back to the train station (which, of course, was uphill) and located the main piazza on a map on the wall. Back down to the city. Next to the Duomo we found a tourist information booth, where we got all sorts of useful brochures and approximately 3 copies of the same map, one of which the woman working the booth used to direct us to our hostel. At this point, we were hungry, and it was still too early to check in. So we went down to the lake front and ate paninis. Eventually, it was late enough that we could check into our hostel, so we trekked along the lake in that direction. Upon arriving at the hostel, the woman at the front desk informed us that there was a phone message, possibly for us but she couldn't really understand. The message turned out to be Ilana, the friend from high school that we were meeting, saying that she couldn't make it that night. Ilana goes to Johns Hopkins but has been studying in Bologna all year. Okay, fine. The lady at the front desk is nice, and she allows us to only pay the price that members of Hostelling International (which we are not) pay, since we still have to cover Ilana's no-show. Stacy and I head back to Como and have a nice dinner of wine, pizza, and Caprese salad. Over the course of this weekend, I become impressed by how much Italian I actually know. I definitely know at least enough to feed myself, if not enough to be completely polite about it. Of course, we get gelato for dessert. We head back to the hostel, drink half a liter of wine, play Uno and mock the other travelers for awhile, get showers (partially in the dark, as the bathroom lights are on a motion sensor which doesn't extend into the shower stalls) and go to bed.
April 26- When we wake up, we aren't really quite sure what to do, as we think that Ilana is still going to meet us but God knows where. We check out of the hostel, as we're supposed to be staying in a different town for the next two nights (where we would have stayed all 3 nights, but they claimed to not have room for us on Friday when we called to confirm, hence the confusion mentioned on Wednesday night). We went to the Villa Olmo, right next to our hostel, which had a brilliant exhibit of Viennese artists going on. Spent some time in there, strolled around the villa's garden and park, still no word from Ilana. We head over to a beach that we saw the day before, take out some chaises that are leaning against a wall, and nap in the sun for about half an hour with our bags. It would have been longer, but some guy comes over and asks us if we've paid, and we have to play the dumb American "oh we didn't know- mi scusi" card. While walking back along the lake to the city, Ilana calls and says that she's on the train and will be in Como in about 45 minutes. Stacy and I effectively kill time, head BACK to the train station to meet her, and do so, after a little confusion. Stacy and I have seen pretty much the ENTIRE city at this point, between yesterday and this morning, so we head back to grab a quick lunch and get on a ferry to Menaggio, the town where our next hostel is. Lunch was paninis again, but this time we opted for a place with a grill cart and no menu. We ordered our food and paid, and then had to fight the throng of people around the grill to actually get the paninis made. Basically, we had to order twice. Italian efficiency at its finest. That took about 20 minutes, not even kidding. Fortunately, my Italian skills came in handy again, and we got delicious sausage paninis. One of the best sandwiches I've ever eaten. There was a French market down by the lake that Stacy and I had resolved to do shopping at the day before, so we hit that before getting on our ferry. We bought 2 bottles of wine (one for Gerry, one for the train ride back to Zurich) and about a pound each of Haribo candy. The ferry ride to Menaggio took about 2 hours, so we got to see a lot of the towns on Lake Como en route. Got to Menaggio, found the hostel. The owner was a guy in probably his 30s with a plaid shirt and tattoos. My type of place, and the view from our room was fantastic. Headed down to the center of Menaggio (which is a town of one piazza, so not much of a center) and had more pizza and a liter wine for dinner. Gelato for dessert. We then spent the remainder of the night on the hostel's balcony, drinking another liter of wine. I love Italy.
April 27- We bought a day pass for the ferries, combined with a ticket to the gardens of the Villa del Balbianello. Basically, we spent the whole day riding the ferries and stopping at whichever towns we chose. We did a lot of chatting and catching up along the way, so now some high school friends also know what a whore I've become haha. Went to Bellagio for the morning/lunch (piadinas this time), went to the villa and spent a good amount of time in the gardens (which we had to do a minor hike to get to) and saw the town of Lenno (not even a one piazza town), and then went to Tremezzo because it looked nice from the ferry. Sadly, Tremezzo had a whole lot of nothing, so we went to a cafe and got a fantastic gelato sundae to console ourselves. We then almost missed what may or may not have been the last ferry of the day (at 6:30pm), despite being positioned on the docks and ready for it (or so we thought). That minor crisis averted, we made it back to Menaggio and walked around some more. We then ate one of the best dinners that I've ever eaten in my entire life, having to do as much with atmosphere as with food. After that was more gelato, and then we decide to shower and turn in without a nightcap of more wine haha.
April 28- Stacy and I don't have to catch a train back to Zurich until 3:30, so we have plenty of time to get ourselves back to Como and its lovely train station. We check out of the hostel after eating our free breakfast (I think free breakfasts at hostels, no matter how small, are one of my greatest joys in life) and take the long ferry ride back to Como. We got back to Como and figured we'd have enough time for a sit-down lunch, but ended up cutting it sort of close because it took forever. However, it was worth it, as we got to sit and eat (more paninis, I have simple tastes) in front of the Duomo (which I studied in my Italian architecture class last semester). We stopped for gelato at what may be my new favorite gelato place in the world (possibly even better than that place in Sorrento, though maybe just an equal) and ran to the train station so Ilana could catch the train back to Milan that left before the one Stacy and I had to get. We hung out at the station and waited for our train, which we then caught and got ourselves comfortably situated in our cabin. Another train ride through the Alps, this one with a bottle of wine to share. We shared the cabin, at the end, with a guy who I could tell was going to be creepy. He started out by asking us if we spoke a variety of foreign languages, all of which I replied "no" to, because I had no desire to talk. Poor Stacy, though, was found out. The guy was from Georgia (the one next to Russia) and could tell that she spoke Russian because of her cheeks. Ilana had been teasing Stacy about her cheeks throughout the weekend (they're cute and sort of doll-like), so this was just delicious irony. Apparently, guys from the Soviet satellite countries just love Russian girls (Stacy was born in Uzbekistan, but grew up in Moscow), sort of how Italian men love me for no good reason (on that note, Ilana said that she'd never seen Italian men in general as interested in anyone as they were in me that weekend [and no, I have no stories, as middle-aged Italian dudes just remind me of the grosser parts of home haha]). So poor Stacy had about 45 minutes of awkward conversation with this guy, who, fortunately for me, didn't speak English. We got back to Zurich and hightailed it home, where we unwound and waited for Gerry to get back from work and make dinner for us. He'd been in Ireland the previous week, so I hadn't actually met him yet. He turned out to be exceptionally nice and an excellent cook as well as being Irish, so I was suitably charmed. Also, he has the biggest liquor cabinet I've EVER SEEN, with approximately 20 large bottles of Jameson's, along with other various and sundry liquors. We spent the night in the apartment, playing the longest game of Uno in history and drinking absinthe.
April 29- My flight didn't leave until dinnertime, so I spent the day doing some random stuff in Zurich, as Stacy was back to work. I took a cable car up to the top of the Uetliberg, a mountain that overlooks Zurich. My camera batteries were dead at that point, so I walked around for a few minutes and then headed back down. Met Stacy for lunch, we bought some Luxemburgerli from Sprungli for dessert and went to a department store cafe to eat a delicious, and awesomely cheap (by Swiss standards) lunch. The Swiss are on the Swiss franc, which is worth about the same as the US dollar, but costs of living are exceptionally high there because of the high salaries and whatnot. A cheap meal is usually about 25 francs a person, and kebabs cost 10 francs. Even at McDonald's, the value menu is about 3 francs an item. But the cafes in department stores are cool, because its all self-serve cafeteria style stuff, and the prices are really good. After lunch, I basically just rode public transport around until it was time to go back to the apartment and pack up my stuff. Stacy came home, changed, and we headed for the airport, after picking up some sandwiches for a quick dinner on the train from the local grocery store. We got to the airport in good time, and I got through security, in, again, minutes. I wish US airports were so efficient. I flew back to London and made it safely through passport control. Hooray, me. I then had to wait for an hour for my bus into central London, so I sat and had a coffee and read. Got on the bus and made it to Baker Street Station in the pouring rain. Thanks, London. I had arranged with a friend from SC who's studying in London to stay at her place that night and take a train back to Edinburgh the next day. I had to use a bus to get from Baker Street to her flat. I HATE the buses in London. Sure, they're iconic etc etc, but they are not fucking user friendly. They're actually goddamn impossible to navigate if you don't know what you're doing. Sadly, the Tube basically shuts down after midnight, which is what time it was. So I got on a bus that I knew would take me in the right direction (with what I later figured out was actually a ticket for the Tube, but that's neither here nor there) and proceeded to ride it all the way to the end of the line, missing my stop because it wasn't called what I thought it was on that side of the street. I had to get off the bus, run across the street (and almost get hit by a cab), and catch another bus going the opposite direction. It's a good thing neither of the drivers checked my ticket too closely, because, not only was it a ticket for the Tube, it was a single ride ticket. I have more problems in English-speaking countries... Anyway, I finally made it to Ella's flat, after a couple of wtf am I phone calls, and she kindly let me in so we could go to bed.
April 30- Ella had scheduled an appointment to get her hair cut at the beauty school (where they charge only 5 pounds but take 3 hours), so I didn't really see her. I took a shower and sat in her room and read all day, because it was raining, and I didn't really feel like exploring London in the rain. She got back around 1:30, and my train was at 3:30, so I opted to just head to King's Cross and let her study for upcoming finals. I stopped at Sainsbury's (a grocery store), picked up some provisions for the train ride, and made it to King's Cross. They decided not to post which platform my train would be at until about 5 minutes before the train was due to leave, so that made an exciting mass of people all running for the train at the same time. It was an uneventful ride, and I made it back to Edinburgh and back to my flat with the sun shining. Sort of Edinburgh's way of saying "welcome back, and, by the way, I'm way better than London."
And by now I'm sure that you're all throwing your hands up in surrender, so that's all the blog post I've got for now. Expect another one next week about final thoughts on the British educational system, how sad I will be to be leaving Edinburgh in a matter of days, excitement about summer travels (possibly with an itinerary), and news of a drastic haircut (incidentally, the most expensive one I will ever have had in my life, haha).
Ta. Hope you're happy, Lena.
Showing posts with label london. Show all posts
Showing posts with label london. Show all posts
Friday, May 9, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
If anyone asks, you got in a fight.
First, my horoscope for the day:
That'll come into play later. I just wanted to get it out there for right now.
This weekend was London, obviously, and oh. my. God. This will be mostly incoherent, because I'm mostly incoherent. Also, there's reading/note taking that I should be doing for a presentation that I have to do next week, so of course I'm avoiding that. I predict a long post. Maybe even with some feelings, for your added enjoyment.
Thursday night: Whisky society meeting. Got pleasantly drunk, chatted with a few people, learned that The Sopranos = the international perception of New Jersey. It was amusing getting shit about that from an Irish guy and a Swedish guy though. Then, I came back here and packed for London. Drunk packing is a lot easier than normal packing. I already knew that, but it bears repeating. Of course, you then spend the whole journey there wondering what you might have forgotten in your stupor.
Friday: Train to London left at 11. It's approximately a 5 hour trip, through Newcastle, York, Doncaster, etc. Basically, farms and sheep. And the occasional nuclear power plant and cliff overlooking the sea. England is a beautiful country. I did the travel parts with the girl that I've been going out and doing stuff with every week, so it was an enjoyable ride. When we got to London (King's Cross woo), we successfully navigated the Tube to get to our hotel. I then successfully used a map to navigate the above-ground walk to the hotel. I was so proud of myself, you have no idea. The hotel was questionable, but USC paid for everything, so there are no complaints here. Ashley and I dropped our stuff off and then went to look for a bakery that her friend who was studying in London had recommended. Some more successful navigation meant that I got a delicious cupcake, and then we went back to the hotel to wait for dinner. More people from our group had arrived at that point, and we ran into 3 guys from SC as we were walking into the hotel, walking out. That detail is mostly pointless. Setting the scene. Anyway. More people. There were 3 of us in my room: Ashley (the girl that I've been hanging out with), me, and Chelsea (whom I'd met at the welcome dinner, and is a Tri-Delt). No en-suite bathrooms, whatever. Sitting in the room waiting for it to be 7pm so we can meet the USC UK liaison (John Sharkey, a nice British guy who enjoys getting drunk with us and spending USC's money), there is a knock at the door. I answer it, and a guy asks for fire in French. I realize he wants a lighter, say sorry, and move on. A little later, a greasy looking Italian guy (not racist, totally accurate description) knocks on the door with a bottle of champagne and asks us to drink with them. Uh, nope. Sorry. Finally, time for dinner. A group of us go to a pub, since there is an hour before our dinner reservation, and the guys drink while the girls (some of the London students joined us) talk. Pansy, I know. For dinner, we go to a brasserie attached to a hotel near ours (I have this thing against restaurants attached to hotels, ask me about it sometime if you have time to listen to me complain), the food takes forever, we get through two bottles of wine before the appetizers. There are 9 of us eating. Two more bottles appear later. I know this is nothing compared to typical 4 people/5 bottle parties, but I was drunk enough that the food went from passable to delicious. After dinner, some of us went back to the same pub that we were at before, while Ashley and Chelsea went back to the hotel and went to bed. This is the sort of hotel where you have to turn in your one key every time you leave, so there had to be some strategizing about how I would get back into the room. Apparently, pubs in central London have last call at 11pm, so it was an early night. Getting back in the room was fun though, because everything was noisy, and I, of course, was trying to be a quiet drunk.
Okay, to be perfectly frank, I'm boring myself. There's something that I actually want to talk about, so let's just move on to that.
See that tag at the bottom that says "geology?" I have completely and inexplicably fallen in love with an SC geologist. This is why my horoscope is at the top there. If you're reading all of this, consider yourself an "informed friend," and discuss. Because, as you'll soon see, I am over-thinking this, per usual. His name is Glenn, he's a junior, doesn't live in the Rock House but knows everyone else there (which, duh. There are approximately 12 geologists, and we know everyone in the Rock House). When I walked out of the hotel to meet the rest of the group out front before dinner, he introduced himself and promptly explained to us how he'd received the nice looking gash and bump above his right eyebrow. Apparently, he got to the hotel, got ready to go exploring in the few hours he had before dinner, and promptly got hit in the face with a door by a non-English speaking porter. He then had to go lie down for 2 hours, to stop his head bleeding and throbbing. Seriously. Immediately, I am endeared. He sat next to me at dinner and at the pub afterwards, so we talked a lot. His mom is from Jersey, and he grew up going to the Jersey Shore every year (though he lived in Baton Rouge until his senior year of high school and then in Texas). The universe is somehow responsible for this, obviously. And I've inserted these tidbits of info here, because it matters to Saturday's events.
Saturday: Woke up early for breakfast (which I'm not even going to discuss because it was the worst ever). Ate, Glenn came down and sat with me and my roommates. Had an hour between breakfast and when we had to leave for the Globe Theater tour, so my roommates and I went back upstairs and watched the news. British news, even on Saturday mornings, far surpasses anything on American stations ever. We left the hotel, and I spent the rest of the morning strategically positioning myself as we were walking in our big group to the Globe and getting intensely jealous when anyone else was where I wanted to be. Guys, this is rapidly becoming terrible. I'm going to need to tone it down. Anyway. We toured the Globe, which was awesome. I would really like to see a play there because, as the tour guide said, it's like being inside a giant wooden instrument. The acoustics are unbelievable. After the Globe, everyone else had time to go off and do their own thing. Ashley was going to go off and meet her friend who was in London, which she of course invited me to do. I said I'd think about it, we all went to look at the exhibit that's attached to the Globe. At the end of that, there was a partial group meeting, one of those "anyone else want to do what I want to do" things. Glenn mentioned the British Museum, which we'd been talking about with some Arch students at the pub on Friday night. Obvs, when he asked if anyone else was up for that, I said yes. Another kid was going to go with us, but then decided to go with Ashley instead, as she was going to do stuff outdoors, and it was a gorgeous day. The universe is in my favor right now, apparently. I will have to continue to sacrifice babies or something (less funny because it's kind of true, disregard). Glenn and I went looking for the nearest Tube stop, met a singing porter who advised us of a better route and sang snippets of Neil Diamond and Johnny Cash for us, found the better route, and promptly got lost exiting the Tube. The Tube is awesome, but the maps are only really handy underground. Once you get above ground, you're on your own. So we had a mini-adventure, involving walking in a great big circle and being rude to a lady handing out Scientology pamphlets in front of the Scientology Centre. Like being in LA, but with the wrong spelling. Finally, we figured out where we needed to go, did so, and rewarded ourselves with Korean food for lunch- satisfying a serious craving that I'd been having. We then went to the British Museum, and I'm really not sure that I can actually talk about it. It was everything that I'd hoped and more. For those who don't know, I put on my USC application that my dream job was curator at the British Museum.
After the museum, we had to get to a theater in Piccadilly Circus for a play (The 39 Steps). Cue another adventure. Once again, Glenn and I got off the Tube and went the wrong direction above ground. Quite a team, really. But we got to the theater with like 5 minutes to spare, so, success. And our seats were next to each other (well, one apart, so I just took the empty one next to him since it was a small part of our USC group that had all of the seats around us), and the universe is again on my side. At the play, I ran into a girl that I'd studied with in Dijon, so we talked the whole way to, and then through, dinner. Made tentative plans to go back to Dijon in our free time this semester, which will be super nice. It'll be nice to hang out with her again when the other students come up to Edinburgh later this month. Glenn tried out his more exciting injury story on her at dinner, telling an involved tale about a Scottish pub and supporting an English team. We helped him make it more believable. On a semi-related note, Glenn lives in a "flat" with 11 freshmen guys (it sounds like a suite, really), and he was saying that they want to have an "around the world" party that weekend, because his flatmates have become obsessed with that idea since he mentioned it one time. Hilarious.
Post dinner, people once again got to do their own thing. Most of us had been drinking at dinner (I had two Sapporos, as it was a trendy Asian restaurant), so obviously the drinking had to continue. Glenn, two other guys (John and Matt [also in T.O., though I've never had class with them]), and I went to a liquor store, bought shitty wine, and went back to the hotel. They showered, I watched some NCIS, and then we reconvened to pregame before we decided what we wanted to do for the evening (it was approximately 8pm at this point). They all shared a room, along with the one other guy from my program that went down to London, and he came in as we were drinking and said that he was staying with some friends somewhere else that night. Sweet. We headed out and essentially got off the Tube at a completely arbitrary stop, chosen by Matt. We walked for like a block and found a pub that was actually open until 1am. Our evening was decided. And what an evening it was. Tequila shots were involved. Matt's from Boston, John from the Bay Area, so it was the sort of mixed group of Americans that makes for great times. I should mention that the Tube closes at 11:30, which we knew going into this. At midnight, we were all wasted, so we decided to go back to the hotel and finish our shitty wine. We walked forever, ended up back in Piccadilly, and had to say fuck it and take a cab because we never would have gotten back otherwise. The driver offered to sell us weed ahaha. We were drunk enough to say no. We got back to the hotel and stayed up until I don't even know drinking our wine. Either 4 or 5am. Glenn got into bed and John put shaving cream on his face. Ah, boys. I laughed harder that night than I have in months. It was so nice. And drunk. Jesus. In total, I had the 2 Sapporos, 3 pints and a tequila shot at the pub, and 7/8 of my bottle of wine (we each got our own at the liquor store, because we knew it was going to be one of those nights).
Sunday: Woke up at an ungodly hour for breakfast again, still drunk. Ate and packed everything up, left our bags with the front desk, and Ashley, Chelsea, and I went and saw Westminster Abbey and then Kensington Gardens. It was another beautiful day, so we really just wanted to do stuff that would allow us to walk around outside. I then got hungover, so the sun and mild weather were nice. Went back to the hotel, picked up our stuff, and headed to King's Cross to catch our trains. Ashley and I had one half an hour later than Chelsea's, so we spent our extra time taking a couple of pictures at the Platform 9 3/4 thing that they have. So cute. 2:30 rolled around, and we started the long ride back to Edinburgh. I pretty promptly passed out, because, yeah. 3 hours of sleep will do that. It's funny, because Ashley and Chelsea were both like "How are you awake right now?" throughout the day. Band has trained me well. When I got home, I waited forever for my mom to call so I could go to bed, and she didn't. So I finally called her at 11:30 and said wtf, basically. Thanks, Mom. We took care of all of the involved stuff for the apartment application for next year, and she told me that my family is still looking into coming over here during Easter. Then I finally went to bed at around 12:30.
Today: Skipped my 9am Buddhist Art lecture, and I refuse to be blamed for that. I needed the sleep, and attendance at lectures isn't kept. And the class powerpoints are put online, so it's really not even that academically irresponsible of me. Went grocery shopping. Went to my other class. Worked for a little while on the presentation that's due next week, since the library has recalled the book that I need to do it with (so annoying). I have until Thursday to read 150 pages. Easy. I had Indian takeaway for dinner, which was delicious, and I have leftovers that will last forever. Good day.
That's a run down of everything in my life. The things that need slightly more depth still are 1) Glenn and 2) my family visiting.
1) Glenn: I've said a lot already, but I think another thing that bears mentioning is how easy it is to talk to him. There were very, very few awkward silences of any sort while we were hanging out. Some of that was because I was talking too much out of nervousness, as I do, but he talked too. There were a few times where one of us would say something and the other would immediately say that they were just about to say that or were just thinking about that same thing. That means absolutely nothing, but it's so rare for that to happen with someone that I've just met. And it was random stuff, like how it seems that there's no unspoken rule for which way you should step when you confront someone going the other way on the sidewalk here (seriously, there seem to be a lot more awkward run-ins here, and not just between foreigners and Brits, but Brits and Brits too). We have sort of plans to go to a football match here on Sunday, as you Facebook stalkers have probably seen, so I'm pretty excited about that. Okay, enough of him for now.
2) My family: I am so stoked (yes, stoked) that my family are probably coming to visit. It's really a shame that they can't come any other time, as that's part of my Spring Break, and I've had to tentatively cancel my plans to go to the Iberian Peninsula with Lena (seriously, sorry again about that), but I think it will be amazing to be able to show them around here. It always makes me sort of sad to know that I've done more extensive traveling than my father has, because I feel like it's something that he would enjoy so much. When he was young, he did a lot of traveling in the US and some in Canada, but he's never been to Europe. So much of my personality and so many of my interests come from him that it's an opportunity I would love for him to have. My brother is supposed to go to Germany with his class next year, and if that were to happen with my dad still never having been to Europe, I think it would secretly destroy him a little. He's very proud of us and glad that we've had the opportunities that we have, but can you imagine your children both getting to do something like going to Europe when you haven't? It's probably terrible. My mom went to Czechoslovakia in high school, so she's seen a little bit, but this is something else entirely. They're looking into airfares now, which is good. Approximately 2 weeks ago, they were fairly set on not coming. I have no idea what happened back home between then and now, but I'm glad it did happen. I sort of suspect that my dad keeps pushing this, which, good for him. This is the home of golf and Scotch, after all.
I am being so ridiculously sentimental right now. Holy fuck. I'm sorry for making that so long, but it was a bunch of stuff that I'd like to remember forever. Well, some of it. The rest is stuff that my horoscope said that I should discuss. If you read all of it, do what I do and blame the universe. Now I really do have to do some work. I'll put pictures up tomorrow, I'm sure. I'm too tired of typing to do the whole captioning thing right now. Something else for you to look forward to.
And Erin's back on AIM for me to harass, so that's that. Peace, fuckers.
- C
EDIT: Since I've been asked already, and to head off anymore stealth photo requests, here:
Far left, guys. And yeah, all of my pants are too big now. We'll not even get into that. Also, I am apparently tall-ish. Hah. Sweet. Posting this picture makes me feel slightly less creepy than stealing one from Facebook would. Next time you see Brad, get him to log into Facebook for you or something. Tell him it's research. They are obviously friends.
Further comment responses: No, Erin, I haven't found a boy for you yet. Unless the Scottish economist will do.
<3s.>
Don't let the current hesitant attitude of yours extend into your emotional life, because it's taking enough out of you already trying to work out which way to go with it all. A discussion with an informed friend helps you regain some clarity regarding your current situation.
That'll come into play later. I just wanted to get it out there for right now.
This weekend was London, obviously, and oh. my. God. This will be mostly incoherent, because I'm mostly incoherent. Also, there's reading/note taking that I should be doing for a presentation that I have to do next week, so of course I'm avoiding that. I predict a long post. Maybe even with some feelings, for your added enjoyment.
Thursday night: Whisky society meeting. Got pleasantly drunk, chatted with a few people, learned that The Sopranos = the international perception of New Jersey. It was amusing getting shit about that from an Irish guy and a Swedish guy though. Then, I came back here and packed for London. Drunk packing is a lot easier than normal packing. I already knew that, but it bears repeating. Of course, you then spend the whole journey there wondering what you might have forgotten in your stupor.
Friday: Train to London left at 11. It's approximately a 5 hour trip, through Newcastle, York, Doncaster, etc. Basically, farms and sheep. And the occasional nuclear power plant and cliff overlooking the sea. England is a beautiful country. I did the travel parts with the girl that I've been going out and doing stuff with every week, so it was an enjoyable ride. When we got to London (King's Cross woo), we successfully navigated the Tube to get to our hotel. I then successfully used a map to navigate the above-ground walk to the hotel. I was so proud of myself, you have no idea. The hotel was questionable, but USC paid for everything, so there are no complaints here. Ashley and I dropped our stuff off and then went to look for a bakery that her friend who was studying in London had recommended. Some more successful navigation meant that I got a delicious cupcake, and then we went back to the hotel to wait for dinner. More people from our group had arrived at that point, and we ran into 3 guys from SC as we were walking into the hotel, walking out. That detail is mostly pointless. Setting the scene. Anyway. More people. There were 3 of us in my room: Ashley (the girl that I've been hanging out with), me, and Chelsea (whom I'd met at the welcome dinner, and is a Tri-Delt). No en-suite bathrooms, whatever. Sitting in the room waiting for it to be 7pm so we can meet the USC UK liaison (John Sharkey, a nice British guy who enjoys getting drunk with us and spending USC's money), there is a knock at the door. I answer it, and a guy asks for fire in French. I realize he wants a lighter, say sorry, and move on. A little later, a greasy looking Italian guy (not racist, totally accurate description) knocks on the door with a bottle of champagne and asks us to drink with them. Uh, nope. Sorry. Finally, time for dinner. A group of us go to a pub, since there is an hour before our dinner reservation, and the guys drink while the girls (some of the London students joined us) talk. Pansy, I know. For dinner, we go to a brasserie attached to a hotel near ours (I have this thing against restaurants attached to hotels, ask me about it sometime if you have time to listen to me complain), the food takes forever, we get through two bottles of wine before the appetizers. There are 9 of us eating. Two more bottles appear later. I know this is nothing compared to typical 4 people/5 bottle parties, but I was drunk enough that the food went from passable to delicious. After dinner, some of us went back to the same pub that we were at before, while Ashley and Chelsea went back to the hotel and went to bed. This is the sort of hotel where you have to turn in your one key every time you leave, so there had to be some strategizing about how I would get back into the room. Apparently, pubs in central London have last call at 11pm, so it was an early night. Getting back in the room was fun though, because everything was noisy, and I, of course, was trying to be a quiet drunk.
Okay, to be perfectly frank, I'm boring myself. There's something that I actually want to talk about, so let's just move on to that.
See that tag at the bottom that says "geology?" I have completely and inexplicably fallen in love with an SC geologist. This is why my horoscope is at the top there. If you're reading all of this, consider yourself an "informed friend," and discuss. Because, as you'll soon see, I am over-thinking this, per usual. His name is Glenn, he's a junior, doesn't live in the Rock House but knows everyone else there (which, duh. There are approximately 12 geologists, and we know everyone in the Rock House). When I walked out of the hotel to meet the rest of the group out front before dinner, he introduced himself and promptly explained to us how he'd received the nice looking gash and bump above his right eyebrow. Apparently, he got to the hotel, got ready to go exploring in the few hours he had before dinner, and promptly got hit in the face with a door by a non-English speaking porter. He then had to go lie down for 2 hours, to stop his head bleeding and throbbing. Seriously. Immediately, I am endeared. He sat next to me at dinner and at the pub afterwards, so we talked a lot. His mom is from Jersey, and he grew up going to the Jersey Shore every year (though he lived in Baton Rouge until his senior year of high school and then in Texas). The universe is somehow responsible for this, obviously. And I've inserted these tidbits of info here, because it matters to Saturday's events.
Saturday: Woke up early for breakfast (which I'm not even going to discuss because it was the worst ever). Ate, Glenn came down and sat with me and my roommates. Had an hour between breakfast and when we had to leave for the Globe Theater tour, so my roommates and I went back upstairs and watched the news. British news, even on Saturday mornings, far surpasses anything on American stations ever. We left the hotel, and I spent the rest of the morning strategically positioning myself as we were walking in our big group to the Globe and getting intensely jealous when anyone else was where I wanted to be. Guys, this is rapidly becoming terrible. I'm going to need to tone it down. Anyway. We toured the Globe, which was awesome. I would really like to see a play there because, as the tour guide said, it's like being inside a giant wooden instrument. The acoustics are unbelievable. After the Globe, everyone else had time to go off and do their own thing. Ashley was going to go off and meet her friend who was in London, which she of course invited me to do. I said I'd think about it, we all went to look at the exhibit that's attached to the Globe. At the end of that, there was a partial group meeting, one of those "anyone else want to do what I want to do" things. Glenn mentioned the British Museum, which we'd been talking about with some Arch students at the pub on Friday night. Obvs, when he asked if anyone else was up for that, I said yes. Another kid was going to go with us, but then decided to go with Ashley instead, as she was going to do stuff outdoors, and it was a gorgeous day. The universe is in my favor right now, apparently. I will have to continue to sacrifice babies or something (less funny because it's kind of true, disregard). Glenn and I went looking for the nearest Tube stop, met a singing porter who advised us of a better route and sang snippets of Neil Diamond and Johnny Cash for us, found the better route, and promptly got lost exiting the Tube. The Tube is awesome, but the maps are only really handy underground. Once you get above ground, you're on your own. So we had a mini-adventure, involving walking in a great big circle and being rude to a lady handing out Scientology pamphlets in front of the Scientology Centre. Like being in LA, but with the wrong spelling. Finally, we figured out where we needed to go, did so, and rewarded ourselves with Korean food for lunch- satisfying a serious craving that I'd been having. We then went to the British Museum, and I'm really not sure that I can actually talk about it. It was everything that I'd hoped and more. For those who don't know, I put on my USC application that my dream job was curator at the British Museum.
After the museum, we had to get to a theater in Piccadilly Circus for a play (The 39 Steps). Cue another adventure. Once again, Glenn and I got off the Tube and went the wrong direction above ground. Quite a team, really. But we got to the theater with like 5 minutes to spare, so, success. And our seats were next to each other (well, one apart, so I just took the empty one next to him since it was a small part of our USC group that had all of the seats around us), and the universe is again on my side. At the play, I ran into a girl that I'd studied with in Dijon, so we talked the whole way to, and then through, dinner. Made tentative plans to go back to Dijon in our free time this semester, which will be super nice. It'll be nice to hang out with her again when the other students come up to Edinburgh later this month. Glenn tried out his more exciting injury story on her at dinner, telling an involved tale about a Scottish pub and supporting an English team. We helped him make it more believable. On a semi-related note, Glenn lives in a "flat" with 11 freshmen guys (it sounds like a suite, really), and he was saying that they want to have an "around the world" party that weekend, because his flatmates have become obsessed with that idea since he mentioned it one time. Hilarious.
Post dinner, people once again got to do their own thing. Most of us had been drinking at dinner (I had two Sapporos, as it was a trendy Asian restaurant), so obviously the drinking had to continue. Glenn, two other guys (John and Matt [also in T.O., though I've never had class with them]), and I went to a liquor store, bought shitty wine, and went back to the hotel. They showered, I watched some NCIS, and then we reconvened to pregame before we decided what we wanted to do for the evening (it was approximately 8pm at this point). They all shared a room, along with the one other guy from my program that went down to London, and he came in as we were drinking and said that he was staying with some friends somewhere else that night. Sweet. We headed out and essentially got off the Tube at a completely arbitrary stop, chosen by Matt. We walked for like a block and found a pub that was actually open until 1am. Our evening was decided. And what an evening it was. Tequila shots were involved. Matt's from Boston, John from the Bay Area, so it was the sort of mixed group of Americans that makes for great times. I should mention that the Tube closes at 11:30, which we knew going into this. At midnight, we were all wasted, so we decided to go back to the hotel and finish our shitty wine. We walked forever, ended up back in Piccadilly, and had to say fuck it and take a cab because we never would have gotten back otherwise. The driver offered to sell us weed ahaha. We were drunk enough to say no. We got back to the hotel and stayed up until I don't even know drinking our wine. Either 4 or 5am. Glenn got into bed and John put shaving cream on his face. Ah, boys. I laughed harder that night than I have in months. It was so nice. And drunk. Jesus. In total, I had the 2 Sapporos, 3 pints and a tequila shot at the pub, and 7/8 of my bottle of wine (we each got our own at the liquor store, because we knew it was going to be one of those nights).
Sunday: Woke up at an ungodly hour for breakfast again, still drunk. Ate and packed everything up, left our bags with the front desk, and Ashley, Chelsea, and I went and saw Westminster Abbey and then Kensington Gardens. It was another beautiful day, so we really just wanted to do stuff that would allow us to walk around outside. I then got hungover, so the sun and mild weather were nice. Went back to the hotel, picked up our stuff, and headed to King's Cross to catch our trains. Ashley and I had one half an hour later than Chelsea's, so we spent our extra time taking a couple of pictures at the Platform 9 3/4 thing that they have. So cute. 2:30 rolled around, and we started the long ride back to Edinburgh. I pretty promptly passed out, because, yeah. 3 hours of sleep will do that. It's funny, because Ashley and Chelsea were both like "How are you awake right now?" throughout the day. Band has trained me well. When I got home, I waited forever for my mom to call so I could go to bed, and she didn't. So I finally called her at 11:30 and said wtf, basically. Thanks, Mom. We took care of all of the involved stuff for the apartment application for next year, and she told me that my family is still looking into coming over here during Easter. Then I finally went to bed at around 12:30.
Today: Skipped my 9am Buddhist Art lecture, and I refuse to be blamed for that. I needed the sleep, and attendance at lectures isn't kept. And the class powerpoints are put online, so it's really not even that academically irresponsible of me. Went grocery shopping. Went to my other class. Worked for a little while on the presentation that's due next week, since the library has recalled the book that I need to do it with (so annoying). I have until Thursday to read 150 pages. Easy. I had Indian takeaway for dinner, which was delicious, and I have leftovers that will last forever. Good day.
That's a run down of everything in my life. The things that need slightly more depth still are 1) Glenn and 2) my family visiting.
1) Glenn: I've said a lot already, but I think another thing that bears mentioning is how easy it is to talk to him. There were very, very few awkward silences of any sort while we were hanging out. Some of that was because I was talking too much out of nervousness, as I do, but he talked too. There were a few times where one of us would say something and the other would immediately say that they were just about to say that or were just thinking about that same thing. That means absolutely nothing, but it's so rare for that to happen with someone that I've just met. And it was random stuff, like how it seems that there's no unspoken rule for which way you should step when you confront someone going the other way on the sidewalk here (seriously, there seem to be a lot more awkward run-ins here, and not just between foreigners and Brits, but Brits and Brits too). We have sort of plans to go to a football match here on Sunday, as you Facebook stalkers have probably seen, so I'm pretty excited about that. Okay, enough of him for now.
2) My family: I am so stoked (yes, stoked) that my family are probably coming to visit. It's really a shame that they can't come any other time, as that's part of my Spring Break, and I've had to tentatively cancel my plans to go to the Iberian Peninsula with Lena (seriously, sorry again about that), but I think it will be amazing to be able to show them around here. It always makes me sort of sad to know that I've done more extensive traveling than my father has, because I feel like it's something that he would enjoy so much. When he was young, he did a lot of traveling in the US and some in Canada, but he's never been to Europe. So much of my personality and so many of my interests come from him that it's an opportunity I would love for him to have. My brother is supposed to go to Germany with his class next year, and if that were to happen with my dad still never having been to Europe, I think it would secretly destroy him a little. He's very proud of us and glad that we've had the opportunities that we have, but can you imagine your children both getting to do something like going to Europe when you haven't? It's probably terrible. My mom went to Czechoslovakia in high school, so she's seen a little bit, but this is something else entirely. They're looking into airfares now, which is good. Approximately 2 weeks ago, they were fairly set on not coming. I have no idea what happened back home between then and now, but I'm glad it did happen. I sort of suspect that my dad keeps pushing this, which, good for him. This is the home of golf and Scotch, after all.
I am being so ridiculously sentimental right now. Holy fuck. I'm sorry for making that so long, but it was a bunch of stuff that I'd like to remember forever. Well, some of it. The rest is stuff that my horoscope said that I should discuss. If you read all of it, do what I do and blame the universe. Now I really do have to do some work. I'll put pictures up tomorrow, I'm sure. I'm too tired of typing to do the whole captioning thing right now. Something else for you to look forward to.
And Erin's back on AIM for me to harass, so that's that. Peace, fuckers.
- C
EDIT: Since I've been asked already, and to head off anymore stealth photo requests, here:
Far left, guys. And yeah, all of my pants are too big now. We'll not even get into that. Also, I am apparently tall-ish. Hah. Sweet. Posting this picture makes me feel slightly less creepy than stealing one from Facebook would. Next time you see Brad, get him to log into Facebook for you or something. Tell him it's research. They are obviously friends.
Further comment responses: No, Erin, I haven't found a boy for you yet. Unless the Scottish economist will do.
<3s.>
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