Carolyn

I ate an entire bag of candy corn today. Sarah helped a bit, but my currently rotting teeth are proof that I did most of the work. I am strangely proud of this fact. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go try to fend off the inevitable diabetes that's heading my way.

But first, exciting moments in my life:
-They turned the heat on in my building! A little too late, seeing as seven out of my ten toes already have frostbite and need to be ampuated, but it's the thought that counts. Everytime the radiator hisses and I hear a distant rumbling from the basement I smile, knowing that even when Boston weather throws a daily shitstorm in my face, I have an apartment that feels like the Sahara and will probably stay that way well into the summer, whether I want it to or not.
-Midterms! Oh wait, that's important? You'd think otherwise, as I've opted out of studying or truly caring in favor of listening to obscure Russian music and looking at pictures of kittens. But no, apparently I'm here to like, learn or something. Whatever. Bring on the alcohol. Toodles braincells, it was nice knowing ya.


Aaaaaannnnddddd....I don't know. I don't really feel like summarizing my life, as it's pretty much only interesting to myself, and to anyone reading this who would be interested then they should know how to contact me to learn even more.  But basically, my life's a busy boat staying afloat, cooking, reading, studying, coughing, procrastinating, and trying to speak Hebrew. Trudging through my overprivlidged education as my interest in anything I signed up to learn pretty much flew out the window. Spending time with really awesome people, living in a great part of the city, and the Phillies made it to the World Series, so really, besides the market and the shiteous nosedive the world seems to be taking,  what's there to complain about?

Except for the fact that  I have panic attacks whenever I think about what would happen if McCain wins the presidency. But you know, I hear they make medicine for that nowadays. It's called expatriotism.

So the market is majorly fucked up, to put it lightly. I keep thinking back to a class two years ago when Prof. Whalen pretty much predicted this and much more, while reluctantly mentioning it might leave us in a crisis worse than the Depression (I'm not one for economics, but selling our debt does not sound like a good idea).  And then my mind shoots to the fact that the man leading in the polls right now for president just recently said he didn't believe we were in a recession. Oh yeah, and his VP never even left the country until last year (among other atrocities). What a day for my absentee ballot to come in the mail.

The good news? Today I made fried rice, and it tasted pretty damn good if I don't say so myself.

Lordy. 

I sit in the middle of the two most ass-smacking weeks of my life, and to begin to list why they have been or will be so is  too tedious a task even for me. It's an odd mixture of the good and the bad, all of it unexpected. Yet somehow the waves of awesome that have came my way, like running into Anna B at the MIA concert and dancing in a sweaty dance pit in a warehouse, or secretely delivering a Hannah Montana card to an ill Jess with Morgann, well, none of these own up to the fact that tonight I held a chinchilla. And I want one. Badly.

And then I went home and wiki'd chinchillas and found this picture.


Chinchillas in party hats guys. Come on. 

I'm verklempt. Talk amongst yourselves.

Sometimes when the week devours your soul like this week has with me (housing being a bitch, not getting the internship at WYSP, homework coming out the ears and no sign of it letting up for Marathon Monday, ect) it helps to focus on the little things. Thus, I give you, a list of random things this week that commanded a smile (keep in mind, however, I am easily amused. I am still, for example, laughing to myself over the comment card in the dining hall that simply says in all caps "I <3 CORN!" and I saw this like maybe a month ago). 

1. While on the T yesterday I saw a girl around the age of 12 who was deaf with her 20-something blind friend (he was at least partially blind I'm assuming. He had a cane and his eyes remained partially closed the entire time). The two were signing to eachother frantically the entire time, and through motions I could figure out that they were working out which stop to get off at. They were in a world of their own, laughing and enjoying their own friendship that seemed seperate by choice of the rest of the people on the T. They got off at Kenmore like I did, had a gesturing argument over which exit to go through for, I think, the Sox game. I wanted to follow them and observe them, not in a creepy way, just out of pure fascination. And not only because the friendship between a deaf girl and blind man seems improbable, but just out of their obvious connection and own little universe that they seemed to create around themselves. Does that make sense? No? Ok. 

2. The weather has been beautiful lately, and last week I took advantage of it and sat by the Charles highlighting documents about ebola and anthrax (whee! Fun!) A large group of ROTC kids in full military garb gathered nearby, got into formation, and spent the next half an hour crouching and pointing guns at the innocent runners and sunbathers nearby. It was all training, and i'm sure the guns were unloaded and all, but it's interesting to see some MIT kids playing frisbee and then right next to them a scene out of battle. Unnerving, though, how it seemed normal after a bit of time and getting used to.

3. Also by the river and around the city the past week, groups of runners getting ready for the marathon on monday. But like the really professional kind, who come in from other counties just to run this thing, not the guys who dress up in funny costumes and give up once they hit heartbreak hill. Hope I can see the marathon on monday and participate in the accompanying activities. Interviews for COM and FREEP articles may prevent me from doing that though (gar)

4. I went with my Capstone group today to see the level-4 Biolab that BU has been building despite protests from the Roxbury community. It was pretty neat, and by neat I mean we got in trouble with a cop for taking pictures of the building. I almost got arrested for my grade! (not really). I am so hardcore I can't handle it.

5. 826, the tutoring center I volunteer at, had a benefit this past weekend where I got to see leech ballet, giant crab wrestling, a debate about bigfot, and Eugene Mirman, among other things. Eugene, of Flight of the Conchords landlord fame and also these brillant YouTube videos, was hilarious. I went with a rather ill Jamie, which also brings me to...

6. I saw my family last week! If briefly. Don't know what I'll do when they don't have college searches as an excuse to see me in Boston. Unless Jamie decides to go to Brandeis. We'll see.

Uninteresting things I've seen...
This work. I want to cry tiny tears of academia. That magically makes Microsoft Word write all this shit for me.

Right before I left for Spring Break the other week, I was walking to my dorm past the administration building as a large tour group of potential students and their parents walked down the street.  From the dorm across the street, a guy yelled out the window at the tour group "I'm gonna fuck all your daughters!" (my dad's reaction, when I shared this story, was "Do you have to pay extra for that?")

Although Boston's been much, much better, and I wasn't ready to bolt out of there the second break hit, it's nice to be home especially since between now and August the amount of time I've been home was around two weeks. It's been busy though, and the heaps of work I have for this week has gone untouched, a sad fact not helped by my trek around South Street today with Kat, Jess and Josiah and the long lunch had at Allahambra's where the owner Mohammed gave us the greatest Chai tea ever and then beat me in Scrabble. But then again, in a Scrabble match against my mother last night, I got away with creating the word "groutbagel", so I was not tough competition by any means.

I currently love:
humantaschen
warm weather
black and white polka dots
Peter Sellers as Dr. Strangelove
Frida Kahlo eyebrows (not on me though)
kittens
you

This week I learned that Eugene O'Neill died in my dorm back when it was a hotel in the 50's. Um...wow?

It's funny, since they made the floor that he died on the Writer's specialty housing floor. It also clears up the ghost suspicion me and my roomate have been having. So it's been Eugene O'Neill that's been causing my door to open by itself all this time. Figures. 

Bad news: I confused days today, thinking I had to go downtown to write an article for the FREEP on the stationary bicycle race tomorrow, when in fact it was this morning that the race was held. I'm awesome. And by awesome I mean, not really.

The Good news: My mom mailed me girl scout cookies. Thin Mints, to be exact. She's awesome. And so are the Girl Scouts. What's not awesome is being a Girl Scout. I only made it up to Brownies, and even that was too much for me. Failure. I don't deserve these thin minty cookies of success.

Bad Joke, courtesy of my Humanities class: Buddah is in New York City and decides to get a hot dog. He heads over to the stand and the hot dog man asks him "What do you want?" Buddah replies "Make me one with everything."

Ha. Ha.

Ha.

Dear Carolyn,

Stop procrastinating.

Love,
Your Common Sense

P.S. That goes for perezhilton checking and unnecessary cookie eating as well!

• I have been on an endless search for this week's Dig with no success. Usually there's an abundance of them on campus, in metal containers on the street or stacked near dorm doors. This week, however, not so much. I need my fix of holier-than-thou cynicism and social critique. If anything, I need it for the captions they have for all the bad band promo shots.
• God willing, I will do my first radio show tomorrow. Last week, after waking up at 5am and trekking through the abandoned Boston streets with wet hair, I struggled with the front door to COM which would not open no matter how many times I swiped my card. And so, Groovy Like Your Parents maiden show was subsequently canceled. Will the same thing happen tomorrow? Listen tomorrow from 6am to 8 am at WTBU's website to find out. What else will you do on a saturday morning anyway?
• Was sick/is sick all week. It's been fun. And by fun I mean I have done absolutely nothing. Haven't worked on my internship resume, haven't gone to 826 to tutor, haven't done work, nothing. In fact, the only thing I've done is go to write an article for the FREEP only to have the talk I was about to attend canceled. I'll pay for my procrastination soon enough though. Just you wait.
• Oh yeah, Superbowl? I suppose being in New England I should get excited for the Pats or risk getting lynched. But football is a wimpy man's rugby, and I can't muster up the energy to care after experiencing the enjoyment of going down to the pub, getting a pint and watching far more attractive men play a far more exciting sport...and winning (well, not in the case of the world cup though). My mother: "Carolyn, go watch the Superbowl, you can meet boys there!" Yes mother, but they will be watching the game. After all those years of marriage, you haven't learned that we cannot compete with pig skin and men jumping on eachother while wearing spandex?
• Dining hall observances: while waiting in line for a sandwich, the middle aged Asian woman making a sandwich for the girl in front of me spots a student she apparently knows and favors. "Mike! How are you?" She turns to the girl standing in front of her "You're very pretty. Mike, don't you think she's pretty?" Both turn red. "You two should go out" . To my knowledge, they didn't take her up on her advice.
• I miss London. No, I miss not being in America, I think. Anyway, I miss some aspect of last semester. Not things like the drinking age or the accents(although I do miss all that), something more along the line of being able to be responsible for myself, of experiencing actual adulthood and not the twisted, overindulgent promiscuous version of it that so many take part of here. I'll find my way back there, or Israel, or any other of the many countries I plan to live in. Not America, I think is the theme here. But for the time I've spent here since I've been back, it has not been too bad. And that's enough, I think.
• I want fruit snacks. In particular the cloudy kind, that aren't all jelly like, even though there's always fewer of them in the bag. But really, right now either would do. I'll also accept Dunkaroos, if anyone's offering.

 

Being back in Boston hasn't been as bad as I predicted. Sure, my general feelings towards BU nowadays is something of "Eh, sure why not". And sure, nothing will ever compare to the amazing that is London (but honestly, what could?). My new room assignment is parallel to the Citgo sign and Fenway, and both are clearly visible if you were to use the study lounge at the top of my building. I tried to use it effectively today, but the surrounding incredible views of the city were bigger distractions than I predicted. Then again, when you have about as much desire to study as I do, anything and everything is a distraction. But study I must and will. Except for now, when I need to read Frankenstein for Thursday. Good God, this is the third year in a row I've read it for class. What more is there to learn?

I will read it, I will I will. I will not fall asleep at some old lady hour like I have been ever since I got back from Europe, preceded by exhaustion and then an inexplicable amount of energy that dives into the ground as I succumb to bed at something like 10:30. Although I guess early nights are a good thing, seeing as I plan to load up my plate this semester with a job, volunteering, radio station stuff if fate will have it, and generally getting out a lot more than I did last year (which won't require a lot, believe me). 

My only complaint is my building's distance from all my classes, the Antarctic weather that's descended, and the aparent Stigmata I've acquired (why on earth my hands randomly bleed is beyond me. Maybe I'm a hemopheliac?). Things seem to be going well so far, let's hope it stays that way. 

Ok, enough narcissism. How have YOU been?

I'm in a internet cafe in Amsterdam. The stories to tell would put me well over the alotted time, and my writing skills are diminished like hell right now, so instead I will say this.

The world is amazing. But I want to go home.

I mean it's been what, August, since I've been in the States? Jesus. I feel like I have no home at this point, as any place I can easily call home I will have to leave after a brief amount of time, be it weeks or months.

But I absolutely am in love with traveling, and I need to backpack for real sometime, when there aren't avoidable moments of chaos, partners who are ready to cancel the whole thing or the God awful cold that makes going out at night a feat in itself. I mean, there's enough of that in Boston.

Once again i can't fit in all I want to say, and so i resort to complaining. Smooth, Carolyn. Smooth.

But there is a shit load and then some to share with everyone, so if you live in Philly and I sorta kinda like you and consider you my friend then guess what!? You're gonna get an earful of it. Maybe I should respond to facebook stuff while I'm online...nah. Lazy lazy lazy.

I guess the logic behind this was that it would cure some of thehomesickeness that has been lounging around lately, ever since I had to move out of my flat. I want to come back, I really want to come back, but now all i really want is to just stay in a room, my room, by myself, sleep late and spend the day in pajamas, eating junk food i don't have to go out and buy and watching TV that has more than five channels. Granted, once I get back I'll be missing London like crazy. In fact I already am, and the idea of having a few days of it before I fly out is nice. Now if only I could figure out where the hell I'm going to stay when I'm there. There's the other thing I miss: Not having to worry about where I'll sleep that night. It's totally taken advantage of when it's at your disposal, but seriously, there must be nothing better than having certainty in at least that. 

If there's no strike at Heathrow, God willing, then i will be home the 30th. Hopefully the rest of this adventure will go better than it already has. But there's still plenty of time for more craziness. Like there hasn't been enough already. But merry Christmas, New years, Boxing Day, every day to everyone everywhere. And don't forget to turn off the lights when you leave the room. Saving energy is important.

Hypothesis of the day: Huge piles of work usually result in updates as a procrastination tactic. So far, it's proving to be true.

The stack of notes I have to get through on Communist Russia and China is truly impressive. I don't find it all boring, it's just that the material is depressing as hell. 5 million dead of starvation in the Russian famine of 1921, Stalinism and labour camps, the Rape of Nanjing, the greatest famine in world history in 1959 in China leaving 13 million dead....and that's just a sampling. So distraction is needed for sanity's sake. 

Here's a distraction: I really do not want to leave London. I keep trying to reassure myself that I can come back, live here again maybe with an internship program or for grad school. But no matter what I tell myself I know I will leave feeling that didn't do all I should have done while here. I really want to come back on my own, with no American bubble surrounding me most of the time. I really do think that I relate to the British better than Americans, the more I learn about each country the more I feel like I've been living in the wrong place all these years. And shallow as it seems, I am going to miss terribly being of legal drinking age. Not even for the sake of getting drunk, just the pub culture and having that freedom that is so unnecessarily banned in the States. I think I've been far more responsible here where it was legal than back home when I had to do it behind everyone's backs. Says she who drunkenly wandered home last night. But let's ignore that fact, as I certainly haven't made it a habit to get that wasted in a while.

So now it's exams. Exams and then packing up and trying to find some sort of hostel to stay in while Sharada works for the Liberal Democrats and then off we go to Europe and beyond. Well, actually just Europe, and a small portion of it at that. And then home. And then Boston, which I am trying not to dread but what can I say, it's natural to detest going to a place if the memories that stand out are bad. I know  it wasn't even as horrible as I imagine, but it's instinct and habit I suppose. So be it. All will be fine, all will be lovely, and if it isn't I'll drop out and move back here. Be an illegal immigrant. If only the Atlantic was not so wide.

But good cheer comes in the following:
1. Young Bride by the band Midlake is an absolutely beautiful song. And it sounds like winter. Not cheery Christmas let it snow winter, but a cloudy day in Febuary when the ground is flat and brown. And I say that not just because the video involves a girl walking barefoot through snow. The violin part makes the song. 
2. The very fact that a woman known as the Hugging Saint exists makes me smile. She looks huggable too.
3. I saw the Weakerthans with Jamie when my family came to visit. It was amazing that as soon as it ended I was sad that I'd have to wait some insane amount of time to see them again. I sang along to everything, and at one point I swear the drummer saw me singing to one of the newer songs and smiled at me and gave me a thumbs up. Or I could just be making things up out of utter madness, which seems plausible. 
4. I wanted to see the Carps the other week as well. I called the club to see what time they'd be playing, and the guy told me the club was closed until January. Hence, no Carps. And for that I am sad. 
5. This slowly descended into a list of complaints. I have no idea how that happened. Fuck, I don't want to live back in the U.S. 
6. Linking things is fun though. Why don't I just link the entire entry? Now that would be a barrel of laughs.

Living in my flat is becoming an adventure, though not necessarily in a good way. Sure, the location we're in is beautiful and within walking distance of several great pubs, museums and the supermarket and laundromat. But my God, if there was ever a flat that could screw you the way ours has screwed us...

When I moved in, sure, there were some issues. The water to this day has yet to find a happy meduim temperature wise, making showering a fun little challenge in itself. For the first month at least, we kept losing power in the kitchen, spoiling all the food in the fridge and making it impossible to cook. And not long after that was fixed, the ceiling there began to leak. Luckily that stopped....when the whole friggin ceiling collapsed in above the oven. 

And then things were fixed and fine for a while. That ended this Sunday when around midnight the carbon monoxide detector in our room started to beep non-stop. To be on the safe side, my roomates and I were moved to Sorbonne, another flat nearby. This morning they told us it was all ok and we moved back in. I'm still alive, so I guess its true. But still, bravo Lexham gardens on finding new and exciting ways to make our lives thrilling. 

Today is Guy Fawkes Day, but I'm bypassing fireworks tonight so I can read Nietzsche and lead a discussion on him in philosophy tomorrow. But obviously I'm doing a pretty good job right now of avoiding that. And I can hear the fireworks outside now...damn. I saw them this weekend, but still....no offense Nietzsche, but my mind is elsewhere. 

Remember remember the fifth of November
The gunpowder treason and plot.
I see no reason 
why gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot.

"In professional terms, British women were still second-class citizens. On average, they were paid less than men and obtained a significantly lower proportion of managerial positions. But outside of work, they no longer has to tolerate men who didn't know what a washing machine, conversation or the clitoris were."

- selection from my British Culture professor's book. 

I may just have to steal this book at the end of the semester, customs be damned.

Stephen Colbert is running for President!?!?!?

Damn, I have been out of the country for far too long.  But from the news articles I read I guess it's not a joke. Whatever it is, I hope it will get some kids to register to vote, since God knows nothing else will. Stephen, I tip my hat to you. 

I just had an odd moment of thinking of America and picturing only stereotypes (cowboys, Uncle Sam, barbeques) and was not able to think of anything beyond that. It's hard to explain, but it was a brief period of looking behind me and instead of seeing all the details I know to be true I just saw what it looks like from the outside from a great distance. Does that make sense? No? Alright then.

I have paid a visit to France since my last writing, my first and sadly brief visit. Although I had trouble seeing a lot of things, as my Grandma can't walk that well, I managed to see the Louvre and Versaille, eat some of the best food of my life and babel incoherently in French. Actually it was the speaking French I was most nervous about, as it was my first time using it outside the classroom. But my God, do they speak fast. I might as well have not known any of the language, since hearing it fired at you so quickly is enough to make you curl into a fetal position and accept your fate as a dumb American. But at least then you are a dumb American who has tried, as opposed to the others who stomp into a restaurant in jeans and sneakers without a "bonjour" and obnoxiously demands "Give me a steak!". 

I love my country by the way. And Americans. Just thought I'd share incase this entry lead some to believe otherwise, myself included. 

I stood on the Prime Meridian today. This will be a fine moment to mention in my cartography class (and speaking of which, did I mention that Arrested Developement is hands down as good as everyone says it is? I mean, just stick Will Arnett on a Segway and that, my friends, is comedy). 

Cutty sark is my official new favorite Tube stop name. It used to be Cockfosters, followed by Tooting Broadway. But Cutty Sark doesn't even have any gross undertones, it's just funny sounding on its own. Cutty sark. Cutty sark.

Cutty sark.

 

Exam week has ended at last. Gone are my three hour science classes and weekly tests. But also gone is everyone in my flat. My Grandma and I don't leave for Paris until Tuesday, so until I meet her at Waterloo station I am here alone with plenty of time to kill.

 

It's been easy to keep busy though. Yesterday I wandered around the V and A museum and later in a thrift store having a closing sale I found a jean jacket and a purse at ridiculous prices. Today, it's been another wander through Hyde park, which I need to stop doing since every time I go I end up wanting to have either a puppy or a child, both only for the purpose of having something fun to bring with me to the park which basically tells you how wrong it would be if I had either. Tomorrow I'm hoping Camden Market, or maybe another museum.

 

And now my internet disconnected itself...lovely....

A head bang and half later...

Last Sunday, my roommate and I went out to the local pub in another chapter of the continuing epic called "Let's Go Meet British Guys".  This time, however, we were approached by three middle aged men, one a professor, one Italian, and one who said his girlfriend was in charge of running some pier in San Francisco. Luckily they (supposedly) weren't trying to pick us up, just wanted to talk to Americans because they, well, love Americans (them and no one else in the world I'm assuming). The Italian one ended up reciting to me a long drawn out thesis I could barely hear except for his mantra "memories are love". Which I guess is true, but if you asked me to repeat his reasoning I wouldn't be able to. Ten points to whoever can (or come up with their own I suppose). 

And now I sit and wait for my mother to call me via Skype and try not to fall asleep while that happens. I'm so excited to finally (finally!) go to France, which up to this point I've always imagined to be like my French text books, which is a country where everyone walks around in early 90's fashions and have conversations about the weather, their nationalities and what they plan on doing this weekend. I'm prepared to be proven wrong. Also exciting is seeing my Grandma and traveling around with her in a "Gigi" sort of situation, minus the whole courtesan thing. 

Oh, and add this to the list of things I will miss dearly about this country: In nearly every store they sell bottled smoothies called Innocent Smoothies. When they had juice boxes of it on sale this week I grabbed a few, and they are hands down the cutest marketing strategy I have ever seen. I've spent some time on their website as well. Oh my God, SO cute! Although Bounce gets on my nerves after a while, since whenever I try to play her games she interrupts them for some reason (I think she has major ADHD, but that's another story.) Dude gives you really cute notes to print up that are excuses for everything from getting out of homework (a "note" from Gordon Brown) and kissing your granny (whistling practice). Specs is pretty cool, I think. Although I'm not too fond of the things where you can send in pictures of your already chewed food to have people guess what it is. 

Yeah, I've been sitting here alone for a while. These are my friends. You got a problem with that?

Like so many other times in my life, I am now avoiding studying. How I made it this far academically I will never know. But be that as it may, recounting is the best way to procrastinate, I think. So here goes...

Friday I am worried because A) It is my first time fasting by myself without the company of equally miserable Jews at synogogue (I skipped last year because of fainting a week before from not eating. A good excuse, I think) and B) When it came time to eat my last meal before the fast, I wasn't even hungry and could barely finish. I had planned that night to go see a show so to as avoid the other option of going to a pub and not getting a chance to drink while those around me did. A "severe delay" on the Piccadily line kept me and Stephanie stuck at Gloucester station, so we gave up on the idea and went back to the flat to join Julia in watching "Fight Club" and later an episode of "Arrested Developement" (I can see why everyone loves that show now). 

Saturday however came the real challenge. I had signed up to go on a trip to Stratford-upon-Avon, where Shakespeare was born. I didn't know how well I would last during the day, but it turned out all right. When my friends went to eat lunch I took it as an opportunity to wander around a bit seeing everything for myself. I spent the day feeling hazy, but not at all hungry. Come sundown, I was feasting on take-away food and planning a trip to a cocktail bar where one drink leaves heavy dents in one's wallet. 

It wasn't a very reflective Yom Kippur by far. It's hard to reflect on anything when your brain is slowly wilting from hunger. But I was able to conclude that I was horrible Jew, not only for taking a trip on the holiest day of the year, but also because that trip included a visit to a church to see Shakespeare's grave. But I now understand how hard it is to be a minority. Before,  I've always lived in very Jewish area, and last year I had Hillel to go to. But here, where there's a church on nearly every street and a limited number of Jews, I am beginning to see what all that hooplah was about in Hebrew school. 

Last night, after banging my head against a wall over this test all day, Stephanie and I headed out to the local pub where we ended up meeting some British boys visiting their old professor. Unlike most of the Brits we met so far, they weren't the least bit standoffish, and we ended up wandering around the streets of Kensington with them for a while. It was nice, as it brought me out of my shell a bit (ok, the gin and tonic and Guiness I had just consumed probably was the main factor in that though, not gonna lie). 

And today, after avoiding work even more, I decided to wander through Hyde park.  I started writing a whole spiel about that, but now the idea of finishing it is not really appealing and this test tomorrow is screaming at me. And. I. Have. To. Study. 

I miss talking to everyone from home. But I love it here. I miss being able to write a half decent entry. But that's only the result of being so busy here and actually going out and living instead of sitting inside by myself like I'm prone to do. So there that is. 

Tomorrow is a good day for music. Tomorrow is when Office and The Weakerthans release their albums, the latter of which I am going to see with Jamie when the family visits in November. Am I excited? You could say that, yes. 

Needless to say, I think you should all listen to those bands. Get on that, ok?

So here is my dilemma: either there is nothing going on and therefore nothing to update about, or there is too much going on and not enough time to update about it. In this case it is the latter, which I am not complaining about at all. But still, an update is long overdue.

I am in love with this city. I do not want to leave. Well, ok, I would leave to see everyone back home and all, but the idea of being an ex-pat is very appealing. I can't imagine the feeling of depression I'll get once I'm back in Boston where an old building is only from the 17 century, pubs are off limits and the only accent I'll hear is a Boston one which unfortunately is no where near as sexy as the ones here. 

If everything works out I may be here longer though, since Sharada mentioned to me a few weeks ago that she's backpacking around Europe after the semester ends, and if all works out maybe maybe maaaaaaybe...I might do the same. We'll see.

But besides that, I've been out and about. Stayed in from clubbing tonight in order to read a book for British Culture class which funnily enough I'm avoiding right now. The reading, I mean, not the class. I'm beginning to love that class, as well as the professor. At first I didn't know what to make of him, since the man assigned his own book as the only reading for the class and generally seemed pretty pompous. But now it's one of my favorite classes, thanks to our winding disscussions, his impressions of the royal family, and the fact that while on a field trip to Churchill's war bunker he pulled out his cell phone and asked the class "what would you do if your ex-girlfriend sent you a text saying 'If I was kidnapped by Native Americans, would you rescue me'?" 

If only I could come here without Americans. Not that I don't enjoy hanging out with my friends here, I just feel like I'm in a little American bubble all day. I'll meet more Brits my age one Imperial College down the street starts, I'm sure. But for now it's this, and I can't say that everyone in the program is representing us too well. Take, for instance, a conversation I heard at a pub while at the sink in the bathroom between two American girls:

Girl One: That guy is such a creeper!
Girl Two: I know. Should I hook up with him?
Girl One: Yeah!

There was no sarcasm, either.

Saturday I go to Stratford-Upon-Avon, where Shakespeare was born. I'll also be fasting for Yom Kippur. Fun much? That aside, I've been everywhere and then some, from the Lake District to Cambridge to Bath. And more to come.

It is late. My book is unread. And it just so happens I don't really care much. Fancy that.

So my salad dressing froze, and since it is the main factor in me eating dinner tonight I am writing this while it defrosts. Defrost, dressing, defrost!

London has been amazingly busy and just generally amazing. To the point where I'm already regretting the fact that I have to leave. I would not hesitate to move here, cost aside. As I said to Stephanie the other day, I feel like I'm a European accidentally born in the U.S. 

They've had us running around everywhere, quite literally, like when on Wednesday they gave us a list and a meeting point and let us rush around the city in groups on one hell of a scavenger hunt. Our team came in second...and I was sad. Besides that, we've gone to Windsor castle, which is lavishingly gorgeous, and the Tower of London, which is not so much (but equally interesting). And there was jousting! That I didn't get to see because we had to leave right before it started. But this is England, so I'm sure there's no shortage of people riding horses at eachother with sticks. 

All this has been exhausting, and I haven't been helping that fact much by drinking so much. With the exception of yesterday, I've been drinking every night. Not a lot mind you, I've only gotten drunk once and that was accidentally on Thursday when we had a party at the Bunker Bar with the BU group.  I had no idea one glass of bad white wine could do me in. I was wrong. But other than that, I've been fairly good. Friday was interesting for several reasons. At a club in SoHo, I had a drink spilled on me that lead to our group having a conversation with a British guy who wanted to know where we all were from. When his eyes glazed over, I mentioned it was the city "Rocky" took place in. That was enough to make the guy flip out and share this with all his friends. It made me laugh, how my beloved hometown is known. A few hours later, we were all wandering the streets, trying to find a way home since the tubes stop running at 12 and cabs are few and far between at night aparently. I ended up walking back with Sharada at 3 in the morning, which is safe, I'm happy to report. Still, the entire experience taught me I'm not much of a club person. 

And now I am eating dinner while watching bad British TV with the rest of the girls in my flat. There's this amazing show called Egghead, where a group of joe shmoes compete against a panel of know-it-all old people and one really bitchy man in a bad shirt. Julia and I have plans to head over to Imperial College's pub later, which hopefully will go down since I've been dying to check out the Imperial scene for a while now. 

But before I head out to do that, this fascinated me. But that's because I am a bit of a nerd.

I can't say it feels like I've been here forever, but it feels like such a long time ago since I was home. Now I'm sitting on my bed being generally introverted, so I've had time to realize that, in fact, I've only been here two days. But my body, as well as my sleep schedule and mind, are adjusting, so I guess it's safe to say my sense of time is a bit screwy too.

Where to begin? My flight was delayed (something involving water), but I took me and my suitcase to London eventually so I suppose that's really all you can ask for. After splitting a cab with a girl I met on the plane, quite possibly the jolliest cab driver I ever met took us to the most gorgeous of blocks. My flat is in the basement and consists of the quad I share with three other girls, four other rooms of two, three bathrooms, a kitchen and a common room. Right off the bat it's a thousand times nicer than my dorm last year. Already it's proving to be less anti-social, and the hallways don't look like something out of a mental institution. And the street it's on it beautiful. All of London (that I've seen) is beautiful.

What I've seen of London is somewhat limited to the few blocks surrounding my flat and the path a new friend of mine took to the carnival in Notting Hill. I can't say which is more surreal: the carnival itself or the fact that I can walk around with an open bottle of Bacardi that I bought legally. Drinking aside (I've drank each day I've been here, but never too much since it's been making me feel crappy for some reason) I wish a bought a camera to the carnival. I guess this will have to do. It does no justice, though, to the insane amount of people that were there and the oddness of some of them. Still, a good time, and a good way to see the insanity that is London. 

And now I sit here typing, being anti-social as the rest of my flat went out to some lounge. I'm trying not to be shy, trying to be the key word. But I have to wonder if it's even worth trying when all I really want to do right now anyway is lounge around. It'll work out. But for now I'm going to try this thing called sleep, since it's been elusive these days and I so badly want to be it's friend....

I am in London.
I am exhausted.
I am thrilled.
I am living in the basement of a flat with a host of other girls.
I am a little miffed that my first legal alcoholic drink I bought (cider at the supermarket, for no other reason than the fact that I could) I still got carded for.
I am loving British accents.
And I will love it here...I just need to sleep. And sleep. And sleep. And maybe eat something.
Couldn't hurt to crack open that bottle of cider either.

Better adventures coming soon, I promise.