And Then There Were None

And in a blink of an eye my suitcase went from 0 lbs to 37 lbs to 49 lbs.

I JUST finished putting up everything on my board too!

lamelamelamelamelame

I'm leaving tomorrow.

5:45 AM: Get my sorry butt out of bed
6:30 AM: Turn in keys to the porter
7:00 AM: Meet Caitlin to grab a taxi and head to the station
7:38 AM: Train to London Euston
10:12 AM: Arrive in London
15:25 PM: Plane to Chicago
18:41 PM: Arrive in America!
9:49 PM: Plane from Chicago to Columbus, Ohio
23:57 PM: Arrive home

Basically, tomorrow is going to be hell.  It'll be worth it though.

Today was my last trip into town.  I was not a fan of the Christmas rush in the least.  I also turned in my final paper today.  You know, I thought that if I wrote a paper about Sense and Sensibility, I'd like it more.  It turns out, that isn't true.

I still can't fathom the idea of leaving England behind tomorrow.  All of my friends are going through the same denial-process too.  Both Lydia and Kate leave very soon.  I feel like just yesterday I was sweating bullets, tossing steaming mulch on the campus grounds, then stir-crazy at home for two months, then just arriving at oddly sunny London, sick as a dog.

I have to say, I'm so excited to be back in farmland Ohio, potentially the least exciting of our states, only beating out the Dakotas and Wyoming.  And I'm thrilled to go back to The College of Wooster next semester.  Junior IS will be wonderful.  I miss working hard, thinking, learning, and being challenged.  Also, I am so so so excited to live with Kate in a small, danky, disgusting little room meant for Freshmen (that is, if ResLife is nice to us and puts us together).  I can't wait to hear about all of my friends' travels.  It will be fantastic.

So, how can I be sad to leave when I have SO much to look forward to? : )

I hope everyone has enjoyed following the blog!  Thanks for keeping up with me!

Cheers!

Three, Two, One; Take Off!

Dad,
This post is for you.  First, happy birthday (as of yesterday), congratulations on being 45, and secondly I'm updating so you can read this brand new post on your iPad!  I can only imagine how you're conversation with Mom will go:

You: "Jan!  Jan!  Annie updated her blog!  And she put me in it!  Come look, come look!"
Mom: "Jim, I'm a little busy doing the dishes [and adoring our favorite youngest daughter from the photo collage on the fridge]!"
You: "You're in it too."
Mom: "Be right there."

Then, like any other technological encounter, I imagine it'll continue on to this:

Mom: "Jim, move your fingers.  I can't see anything."
You: "Oh, jeez Jan, calm down.  Erhm, what did I just do?"
Mom: "Where did the page go?"
You: "Just a minute, keep your pants on."

Anyway, happy birthday Dad!  I can't wait to secretly use your iPad and customize all your backgrounds to kittens wearing silly costumes!

So, today was my last day of classes.  Again (just like all the other hopeless weeks), FOUR people showed up to my Victorian Literature seminar.  Including me.  Having actually read the book unlike the rest of my half-witted peers, I did the majority of the discussion, delicately ripping out the very soul of the main character of Adam Bede by George Eliot. 

The novel is really about Hetty Sorrel.  You know it's going to be scandalous with a woman named Hetty

I loved this book.  It was my favorite novel that I read while in England (sorry, Austen).  George Eliot is actually Mary Ann Evans and had to use a pen name, which is also pretty cool.  At the end of the class, my professor wished me well on my flight home and said, "Thank you, Annie, for contributing such a...lively presence."

Welcome.

And now I have three days, one night, and two papers left and I'm allowed to leave the country!  I'm certainly not going to miss eating like a 40 year old single man.

Cheers!

My Final Week Countdown

You know you've got yourself a pretty great friend when:

1. Wikipedia-ing is an acceptable and very fun passtime
2. She watches American Psycho with you at one in the morning
3. Is down for making Mac and Cheese at five in the morning
4. Rides in the death-seat of the double-decker bus (with some convincing)
5. Doesn't question the eight pictures of cats tacked up on my bulletin board even if we both know they aren't my own
6. Discussing Russia is not weird, neither is the trans-Siberian railway.  It's cool!  You just haven't realized it yet.
7. We can house a bag of slightly salted kettle chips in .25 seconds (in which Stefan can attest to)

And now I'm just left with work.  An edited portfolio for Creative Writing (aka CREW), a take-home test due Monday, an in-class test on Monday, and the rest due sometime next week.  The work is relatively easy, however, I haven't had a work ethic since last May so concentrating proves to be difficult.

Speaking of work ethic...

I am SO proud of the COW.  Why?: Because we are too awesome for words

Seven days until I'm back Stateside!  Does the stove in the flat's kitchen really have to break now?

Cheers!

The Real Thanksgiving

And now, after a lengthy intermission, Part II:

The Boyfriend and I returned to Lancaster, tired from traveling and carrying around eighty pounds of Christmas presents on our backs, and made the executive decision to do nothing of great importance for the remainder of his visit.

Me: So...
Boyfriend: So...?
Me: ...Wanna watch 30 Rock all day and eat junk food?
Boyfriend: jumping up and grabbing Cheetos, Goldfish (pizza blasted), plethora of assorted candybars.  Let's do this.

And thus began the 30 Rock marathon, though I think he got annoyed at me for quoting every single line because I've watched all five seasons at least four or five times.

The next day we had terrible rain.  Rain that I had never witnessed in England; and despite the common myth that it rains here all the time, which is partially true, but it does not rain consecutively like it would back in Ohio, just obnoxiously on and off.  But that day, it was a cold downpour, and because we're awesome, we decided to go on a walk to the amazing sheep fields.

Unfortunately, I did not bring my precious camera on this adventure, but Boyfriend brought his SLR and took some beautiful pictures and I'm sure some of you will recognize the stone wall from previous entries.

"If we take nine pictures in a row, we can't mess up!"

That night, the rain stopped and I took Boyfriend to one of my favorite pubs in town named The Borough.  It was my first pub I went to in Lancaster, with my friend Caitlin.

Also note that the Christmas lights have been up since early November...Not right.

Sunday was Real Thanksgiving and thus we made drunk chicken with Mr. E's recipe (by "we" I mean Boyfriend):

Naturally, we used Stella Artois as the beer can

Yes the chicken is in a sauce pan, it is college cooking after all

And on Monday morning, I shipped Boyfriend off on the next train to Manchester (which he would proceed to trip over his luggage and pull the train alarm) and I found myself with only two weeks left in England!

Cheers!

A Gentleman's Intermission

First and most importantly, Lydia's birthday was YESTERDAY and she is now 21.  I'm sad I couldn't celebrate with her, but excited to have our ladies night back in session this Spring Semester so we can at least have a belated birthday celebration, probably in a really small, danky room in the basement of the crappiest dorms on campus.  Also, her new tattoo is amazing.

Secondly, this is not Part II, not because I'm being cheeky, but because a certain someone (BOYFRIEND) hasn't updated his blog OR sent me pictures, ahem, ahem.  Here are some so nobody gets their knickers in a twist:

Interpretive posing at the James Joyce Center (and yes, my shirt has owls on it, from Primark!!)

Boyfriend taking some really cool pictures of Dublin at the Gravity Bar, Guinness Factory

Boyfriend and River Liffey before we did our 2 and a half hour walk

Third: because I have four papers due by the time I leave, I reserve the right to be cranky at/with everything.  Such as:

1. Look, it's 3 AM.  There's no need to be shouting in Chinese at whatever or whoever in your room across the hall.
2. There are three girls in this flat and two boys.  Put the dang seat down.  (I'm looking at you, Greek boy).
3. I did NOT pay money to sit on this bus or train to listen to your crappy mix of Rihanna and techno music.  Why do you even have earphones if you insist on playing it so loud that the entire carriage can hear?
4. And to the ten Occupy Lancastrians in town square: go home.  Just go.
5. To the empty aluminum can rattling outside every time there is a gust of wind: STOP IT.
6. Also, everyone should walk faster than me so I don't have to slow down my pace.  Thanks.

Oh, God.  I've become an old person.



(Cheers!)

Thanksgiving: Several Hours in a Lobby Eating Fruit Rollups (aka Winning)

Okay, no more teapot posts, however, as a quick preface...  I'd like to inform my dear readers that I just made the purchase of black currant, ginseng and vanilla tea.  Not that you all care.

I pick Boyfriend up from our wee Lancaster train station midday, just in time to drop him off at my flat so I could go to my British Romanticism class, where my old British professor challenged my third-wave feminist attitudes on writing. HAH, picked the wrong girl for that!

I race back to the flat, Boyfriend had insisted we fly to Ireland the same day he arrived ("Oh, might as well get all the flying out of the way, even though you are probably one hundred percent right about flying the next day, but whatever!"  Okay, fine he didn't say the last part), so we had a small window of time to catch a train in order to check in for the flight.

Needless to say, there was a lot of running through the airport, and me saying, "Hey, we should totally sign up for the Amazing Race!" and immediately retracting that statement after sprinting up a flight of stairs.
As you can imagine, because it is my life, we missed the flight.  And all the hotels were booked... Except Travel Lodge: the cheapest, ugliest looking accommodation we've ever seen.

At the crack of dawn on Wednesday, we awake, and get on the 8 AM flight to Ireland!

"You both look so happy!" Happy, mom, yes, we are happy.  Also delirious from sleep exhaustion and just relieved we managed to not screw up this flight

Dublin Town Center: you can also see the Spire Monument in this picture (the giant spike)

Dublin was a pretty cool city.  We did a lot of shopping and I even got to author-stalk James Joyce!  Boyfriend humored me and got me a few trinkets from the James Joyce Center!  I think Larry Stewart and Mazen Naous from the COW would applaud me.

That night, we walked to the Guinness Factory, where Boyfriend took some excellent pictures from the Gravity bar after we had our free pints of Ireland's greatest beer.  Afterwards, we stayed out fairly late (I know his post says 3 AM, but we were definitely in bed by eleven...latest) taking pictures of the lit up city and eating Irish McDonald's chicken nuggets on the bench overlooking River Liffey.

Boyfriend in Merchant's Arch

Photographer in action

And what good would one of my stories be if yet another thing didn't go wrong?

Stupid Dublin ATMs ate my money and left me with 20 worthless American dollars.  So the next morning, I had to call AAA back in America to sort it all out (I was surprised Mom hadn't all made them want to quit their jobs by then).  Boyfriend and I, completely exhausted from running around Dublin, decided to head back to Lancaster.  But first, we needed to get to the ferry.

Boyfriend: "Oh, it's no problem, my super awesome iPhone says that it's just past the river by the Dublin Docks.  We can walk that.  My iPhone hasn't been wrong about anything either."

So I prepared myself for a very long journey:

Yes, I am a dork, thanks for noticing.  And yes, water does come in that ridiculously sized bottle here.

US TWO HOURS LATER

"Boyfriend, we're idiots."

"Yup."

 Oh, and our backpacks weighed like thirty pounds from our Christmas shopping (yes, families, we love you just that much).  We finally made it and then proceeded to spend approximately six hours in the lobby of the ferry waiting room, and mind you, this was on Real Thanksgiving.  But that's okay, because it was pretty hysterical and we were too thrilled to have found the ferry to care.  Also, I made him play ISpy with me as well as micro-manage his game of Solitaire.

But we made it onto the ferry, and the stormy sea made us both a bit motion sick.

Spirits still high despite wanting to throw up

At midnight, we were in Holyhead, Northern Wales!  I've never been to Wales, and even at night it was absolutely beautiful.  I'd live there if it had a Chipotle and didn't have such chilled winds.

I believe this was our favorite part: Holyhead.  It was beyond any beautiful words:

Boyfriend photobombing my lovely picture

Sooner or later, we found ourselves back in Lancaster!  Which everyone will have to wait for that post, so there.

Cheers!

This is the Part of a TV Show Where it's Simply a Filler Episode to Toy with the Audience

You guys.  Check out my new teapot:

It was seven pounds

At a thrift store

How.  Cool.

And, yeah, I've got Tina Fey glasses.  They're more awesome than my sister's librarian glasses that she got to copy off of me.  Oh, I went there (love you sis).

Cheers!

The Saga of Locating Jane Austen's House: Part II

And everyone thought I was going to post about Ireland, but HAH!  I'm just like a bad TV show on the CW, you all will just have to wait.

Waking up in London is possibly the greatest feeling I've had.  The first few seconds pertain to you realizing you are in a hostel bed that resembles a sleeping pod from some cheesy sci-fi film, but the seconds following it are more like: "Wow, I'm in London, England."

Neither of us had much confidence in this adventure to Jane's house, especially after getting to the train station and figuring out that to get to Alton (where her house is), it is an hour and a half train ride.  But we get to Alton.  Oh boy, do we get to Alton.

Reads: "A family lives here, please don't break our windows" Alton made me feel like I was going to get mugged at any second.

Oh, yeah, I was totally going to go into the sketchy alleyway with the murderous looking garage, thanks for the sign, dude!

Yes, we passed these things, and yes, we were terrified.  Halfway through the town, we were guilted into having lunch at a restaurant that resembled my Great Aunt Jo's condo in Florida.  Full of trinkets, cat figurines, and pictures of old ladies.  However, we did get directions to the real house.

Directions that led us down a sidewalkless highway:

Just in case I wasn't going to be shot in Alton, I can now become roadkill on the highway!

Cars and motorbikes zoomed past us at sixty mph, but we were determined.  Finally, we get to Chawton, the ACTUAL town that her house is in.  A beautiful, southern England town that was what I had exactly pictured this county to look like.  Thatched roofs, cobblestone streets, perfectly trimmed hedges, and horse farms with horses wearing adorable blankets.

Totally worth the eight near death experiences, now everyone be jealous please

The house was amazing.  It was worth all of the trials and tribulations.  I saw her writing desk where she edited Pride and Prejudice, Northanger Abby, and Sense and Sensibility, and she lived in this house with her sister and mother towards the end of her life.  I also was able to see all of the costumes that the actors wore in the film renditions of most all of the movies!

Afterwards, we went down we went to go see the church she and her mother and sister went to, and it is were Mrs. Austen and Jane's sister is buried (Jane's tomb is in Winchester and was not buried with her mother and sister at this church unfortunately).

This is the giant house that the Austen women often went to visit a family friend.  It was bought and filled with historical furniture but was closed during this hour of the day.

Uh, Jane Austen went here, NO BIG DEAL

Cassandra (Jane's sister) and Mrs. Austen's graves

Completely satisfied with our author-stalking, we ended up home around ten or eleven.  It was one of those trips were it's "all about the story" (as some of my other Wooster friends have already figured out), but it ended up to be in my top three adventures.

When I got home, it was Sunday, and The Boyfriend was coming on Tuesday, so now that I'm all caught up I suppose I can write about our Ireland trip.

...Or my awesome new teapot I bought for seven pounds (yeah, I can write a whole blog post about that).

Just kidding.

Cheers!

Technically, Google Maps Don't Lie

Quite a bit of adventures have taken place, and I swear it that I shall write all of them down for my adoring fans (hah).

Opening on an early morning in Lancaster, bus stop.  The day is November 19, 2011 and the air is cold and unforgiving.  Enter: Annie and Caitlin, two Americans with one simple goal: author-stalking.  No, EXTREME author-stalking.
Basically, Caitlin and I went to London for round II.  It's my brilliant idea to catch the bus early but we ended up waiting thirty minutes in the freezing morning air. 

Two and a half hours later, we step off the train and into LONDON, the greatest city in the world (next to Edinburgh).  Then, it's off to the home of one of stars of British Romanticism poetry: John Keats.

The house was very intriguing.  Keats' didn't have any surviving family members through most of his young life so whatever was left of his legacy remains in this quaint house.  Like copies of his death mask.  Gross.

Then, we decide to step it up to the biggest celebrity of the Romanticism period: JANE AUSTEN.  And hold on, because this story gets pretty wild.

THE SAGA OF LOCATING JANE AUSTEN'S HOUSE: PART I

Spirits high and still full from lunch at an adorable cafe in Keats' hometown, Caitlin and I set onward to find the Austen House, located in Winchester, London.  A thirty minute ride on the tube later, (with an immense amount of changes, thank you) we arrive in Winchester.  We walk around, searching high and low, pretty lost, trying to find Jane's house.  The map gets us back on track and leads us into a newly developed area.  Finally, we ask for directions.

Us: "Excuse me, can you tell us where Jane Austen's house is?"
Girl: clueless "Jane...Austen?"
Us: exchange of mortified glances
Girl: "There's a listing of all the houses over there, sorry I can't help"

Wait.  What?  We look around.  The freshly built apartment buildings have signs that read: Keats' house ("What?  We were just there!  These are apartments!"), Shelley's house, and other glorified writers of the Romanticism period, tacked up on cheesy signs against the white walls of the complex.
Oh, god.  We have directions to an apartment projects area!

Yes, the apartments that stood before us were probably built in 2008, rented out on the cheap, and named after famous writers.  Jane Austen's house in Winchester isn't her real house, in fact, the only thing that remains in Winchester of Jane's are the "supposed" area where she stayed when she was extremely ill and her final resting place.

Determined not to waste the rest of the day, we hit up the touristy landmarks.  I'm sure as you all have expected from a blog called "The England Traveler", here's Big Ben:

The London Eye at night

Then, we decided to go find the hostel because it gets depressingly black at 4-4:30 PM.  This is the next issue we run into: the Holland Park Hostel is IN the park, however, by the time we got there, the park was closed, thus we were wandering this new part of London for about an hour.

The creep-tastic street we had to walk on to get to the youth hostel

We FINALLY found it after hiking through the narrow park-streets for forever.  After dropping off all of our heavy bags, we got onto the tube and went to Queensway, which is were both of us had orientation.  It was strange to be back and to actually know where everything was.  Exhausted, we hit the hay early, with great intentions of actually finding Austen's REAL house the next day.

Stay tuned, there's PART II to come!

Cheers (for now)!

Tyne Flies

I just realized something...in exactly one month, I'm being put on a plane back to the States.

I'm okay with that though, because December is Awesome month.  There's Christmabirthday (my birthday plus Christmas), New Year's Eve, and anniversary of one year where Boyfriend will get me a pony and a bouquet of kittens, AND Mom's going to have an advent calendar waiting for me so I can eat all the ones I missed on the 17th (cough cough, hint hint).

But anyway, yesterday I went to Newcastle.  I'm pretty sure this city forgot that it was a tourist attraction because the streets seriously lacked in signs.  However, they couldn't hide the awesome cathedrals or castles.  Now I am unsure of why people really need maps--hey, I didn't need one.

This is Black Gate and was built between 1247 and 1250.  It's the gatehouse to The Castle (literally just called The Castle) and even used to have a drawbridge where the footbridge is now standing.

Nearby, after you work your way around the maze of footbridges, is the actual Castle, which is the origin of Newcastle's name.

This ancient castle was founded in 1080, but then it was known as the Norman Castle.  After being destroyed, Henry II came into reign and it was rebuilt with new stone.  During the 18th and 19th century, it was used as a prison.

What I wanted most from Newcastle was obviously the Newcastle brewery, but unfortunately, it moved (sorry Stefan!)  But the Tyne bridges made up for it:

And St. Nicholas' Cathedral (also where the stories of good olde Saint Nick originate):

Because it becomes pitch black at 15:30 PM here, Hadrian's Wall did not seem like a good plan.  I wasn't going to be wandering sheep fields in the freezing darkness, so that landmark remains unchecked on my list.

However, I did feel very accomplished having beaten Newcastle at its whole "go home tourists, we don't have real signs for landmarks for you here" game.  And I have to say, the Tyne really does have some excellent fish.

Next stop: Back to London on Saturday with a friend!

Also, five days until Boyfriend gets here and we conquer IRELAND!  But more importantly, five days until he gives me Looking for Alaska by John Green, which I seriously need to read again.

Cheers!

Things to Love, Things to Hate: The Week Five/Halfway Drag

Dear Rancid Ramen Packet,

I hate you, you delicious sodium-filled son-of-a-gun.  Thanks a bunch for nourishing me for ten minutes then backstabbing me FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT.  I mean everything was fine, and then I was skyping with The Boyfriend and said, "Heylemmecallyoubackokaybye" and slammed the computer shut and well, I won't go into the details.

Today was almost just as pathetic.  I slept until three in a desperate one-day recovery process.  However, I did regain my appetite because life without loving food is no life at all.  It's like walking around without a soul.

I've also got the week off, aka the two days I DO have class, I don't have to go this week.  You know, for all the momentous amounts of work I have.  So, I hope to be updating soon about a trip to Newcastle and Hadrian's wall.  And therapy shopping (shut up I want something sparkly).

Also, being sick made me extremely irritable and I created this list that I can now share with my American audience:

Things That Have Stopped Just Being Vaguely Annoying and Now are Extremely Annoying:
-It's KETCHUP not tomato sauce
-The fact that no matter what, there's just never enough salt
-No, I'm not from Canada.  Does it sound like I say "eh" and "a-boot"?
-Earphones.  Dead, again.  How many more pairs must I buy??
-My flatmates, cooking up authentic Chinese food EVERY NIGHT whereas I can't seem to put two pieces of bread together. 


Things That Are Worth Smiling At:
-The Brits outside my window attempting to move a stone bench at 2:30 A.M. and are falling over while trying to hug each other
-My booked flight to Ireland in TEN days!
-This picture (thanks Boyfriend):

 -This conversation tonight:
Boyfriend: "Annie, I'm sending you another package."
Me: "NO WAY? Really?!"
BF: "But.."
Me: "But...?"
BF: "I swear, I didn't know, but...I might have sent you some Ramen..."
Me: "......."
BF: "I'm sorry!"
Me: "No!  I ran out today!"
BF: face palms.  "That's the spirit."

So after recovery mode, and after I finish watching all the amazing 30 Rock I rediscovered on my computer, I swear the blog will be much more exciting.  I'm sure not many people want to hear about how sick I've been.

Cheers!

Remember, Remember This Fifth of November

Ranking of cities from coolest to lamest:
1. Edinburgh
2. London
3. Liverpool
4. Oxford
5. Lancaster
6. Windermere
7. York
8. Leeds

(Not including the small towns in Scotland that would probably rank under London anyway, I just didn't want to make England look THAT bad)

So, I hope now everyone can understand why this entry really won't be that enthused about York.

Ugh, okay, York, let's be done with you:

Clifford's Tower

York Minster: Full of itself since the mid 600s

Queen Vicky's Royal Train

And then it started raining before I could hit York Minster, the only thing the city really has to offer.  And I was wearing my new Pumas so I cursed the stupid England weather, "Really?  REALLY?  We're going to do this now?  FINE, York, two can play at this game.  Rain all you want, I'm seeing York Minster, and it BEST be worth this."

After York, I went to go see Rachel at Oxford!  Teddy Hall's beautiful despite it's ongoing construction:

"Whatever you do, DON'T step on the grass."  "Why not?"  "Because.  No one steps on the grass."

We went to Teddy Hall's formal dinner and it was like being in a different world.  Everyone dresses up and wears gowns to this thing, it was so cool to feel that sophisticated.  The students fall quiet when the professors enter the hall and stand, only sitting after one of the professors mumbles the Latin motto.  They even served Teddy Hall wine.  And I think I ate duck, and I think I actually liked it, but I'm trying not to think about that.  Oh, and the dinner conversation?  "What gives people value?"  Yep, Oxford moment.

Saturday, Rachel came home abused but extremely happy from rugby fitness training.  I'd post the picture but I think she'd kill me.  I discovered the wonderful cheapness of Primark (as well as wondering how one wears half that stuff in the store) and my favorite event, cream tea.

Some dude passing by the window actually started laughing at us when Rachel took the picture.  Whatever, he's missing out.

It's actually simply English breakfast tea but you spread the clotted cream on the scone as well as jam.  SO GOOD.

Then, Bonfire Night!!  It was so funny to see the English try to do a fair, they just aren't trashy enough.  It was also amusing to see these traditional, proper people burn Guy Fawkes.  I was told that it really wasn't out of hate anymore, but just tradition, which made more sense.  I'm actually surprised Americans don't have something like this, since we are a country of pyros.

There were fireworks stuffed inside of Guy Fawkes too!

 Then we hit the pub for a cider and finally returned back to the room.  Needless to say, this weekend was blast, right up there with my Scotland adventure.  Because really, it's not about where you go, but the people you are with.

"This wall's probably been touched by CS Lewis... Or Tolkien.  You should probably hug it."

Cheers!