WWNPHD?

Let me start off this entry by simply saying, my feet hurt.  I walked the length of two major cities in two days this weekend and it was a-w-e-s-o-m-e.

I was going to indulge in Author-Stalking.  The Brontës lived in Haworth, located in West Yorkshire, aka not too far from me.  However, Mr. Rail Station Man informed me that the Keighley (the nearest station) has very few trains arriving on that particular day, so disappointed, I began to walk away from the small Lancaster Rail Station.

But...  Then I asked myself, WWNPHD? (My friend Rachel has also asked this great question too)

Exactly.

So I said, "screw it," and went to Leeds.  Then I went to Liverpool.  And it was awesome, thanks Neil Patrick Harris!

(Parents, I know you have no idea who Neil Patrick Harris is, please don't start liking him, because if you start liking him then it'll be automatically uncool, okay?)

This is the Corn Exchange Building.  Yeah, I don't know either.

How can I sum up an entire city?  Let's see, if Leeds were a person, he'd be an old man in desperate need of a shower, dressed like a provocative teenager.  I have to say though, Leeds did have some very cool street sculptures:

All hail Freddie Mercury

The (Modern) Myth of Sisyphus Statue, aka why I went to Leeds in the first place

Liverpool was completely different.  The city has a monument problem, meaning there are monuments everywhere.  I spent my day in Liverpool visiting the Walker Art Museum, the Liverpool Museum (where I was held witness to original Beatles costumes and instruments), the great Cathedral (which has the third largest working bell system and largest working organ in the world), and accidentally walking in on a funeral.

Behind the church was the very ornate Royal Liver Building, donned with the famous Liver Birds

Oh...Oops... (And yeah, I took a picture of it, what are you going to do about it?)

Oh, and Liverpool has another weird obsession:

There are 125 Superlambananas in the city

These guys are called Superlambananas.  They look like Pokemon and I can't decide if this city is absolutely crazy or brilliant.  The Superlambanana are everywhere.  I believe the original is named Mandy the Superlambanana and she resides in the Liverpool museum. 

Yeah, I'm not making this up, this stuff is legit.

Superlambananas aside, this weekend I'm heading off for a weekend in Scotland with Arcadia.  I'm really excited, Scotland sounds wonderful, I know this because Lydia has informed me that she doesn't want to leave it!

Cheers!
(And a special thanks to the parents for sending me clothes and Boyfriend and his family for supplying me with endless amounts of candy!)

Do You Like to Party?

Because this drink likes to party:

"I actually make you MORE thirsty AND destroy the lining of your stomach walls!"

Innocent looking enough, maybe, after all, it's nothing more than a fizzy fruit drink.  Drinking it is another story.  It was like drinking pure melted sugar that was carbonated, burning the inside of your throat and dilating your pupils giving you an energy high that couldn't be achieved with eight Monsters.  Last time I try an English fruit drink.  It's no wonder why all of these children need to have nannies.  Their parents probably just don't want to deal with the aftermath of Vimto drinks.

I recently came into some party clothes myself during a trip to town on Sunday.  British fashion is very hipstery (for definition of a hipster, see below) and weather inappropriate.

And don't forget about Hipster Indy:

I also saw The Sun for the first time this weekend.  I managed to get out and snap as many pictures as I could before England decided to be gloomy and rain again.

Now, it's on to Week 2!  And with the way I'm enjoying classes, especially Creative Writing 203, I'm certain that the semester will fly by.  I was pleased today after receiving surprisingly positive feedback on my first piece as well.  Except for the comment about my enormously humongous issues with hyperboles.  I don't have problems with hyperboles!  I mean, I can quit any time I want..
This weekend will be backpacking, hopefully, and perhaps another day trip if I can squeeze it in, potentially a trip that involved dead-author-stalking.  Yeah, I know, I have a problem.  That, and candy bars have proved to be a great but terribly consuming addiction (pun intended, deal with it).

Cheers!

Exxtreme Traveling

Yesterday, I did my laundry for the first time here.  Now, that may seem like a relatively uninteresting topic of discussion but I can tell you the following facts to make it a much more fascinating post:

1. The laundry room for Furness College is located down the little pathway and down the stairs, next to the student radio station room.  I wouldn't have found it if my friend hadn't pointed it out offhandedly.
2.  There was no way I was about to invest in a real laundry bag for a 10-week term.  Uh uh.  I was using my the bag my bedding pack came in (thanks Dad for raising me as a pence-and-penny-pincher).

Well, if you haven't guessed it...  It was the day that the students I passed to and from the laundry probably now know what my delicates look like.

But was it worth saving the money?  Oh, yeah.  I'm never going to see these people again and besides, all of my clothes are freaking adorable, including the delicates, thanksverymuch.
(Okay, parents, tell me all you want that I'm allowed to splurge on a laundry bag, I'm not going to listen!  I'm saving that money to get a sleeping bag so I can go hang out with the cool backpacking kids and you can't stop me!!)

In more exciting news...  Boyfriend booked his ticket!  He will be arriving, probably looking helpless and confused, at my giant University on the 22nd of November!  We are attempting to cram everything we could possibly do into his eight day visit, including an All-American Drunk Chicken Thanksgiving, which I'm sure will confuse the daylights out of my Chinese flatmates.

Exhibit A: Map decorated by Boyfriend

He's also got a fancy camera (that he's pretty nifty with) so he wants to get a picture of Stonehenge.  Then we gallivant around London and Lancaster, while making Ireland our top priority.

Exhibit B: He's humoring my author-stalking problems

Regardless of how much caffeine I will have to drink to keep up with him, it will be a fun visit.

Before that, is my weekend trip to Scotland with Arcadia, where I have Tour Guide Barbie for a whole two days!

Cheers!

P.S. My blog is lacking some Kate Middleton Fashion Sense (credit to the fashionable Kate in my life)

The Common Sense Journey Back to Childhood

One of my favorite books growing up was "The Tale of Peter Rabbit" by Beatrix Potter.  I had no idea, until Allison informed me, that her museum was approximately thirty eight miles away from this University!  With nothing to do for Thursday (except homework that wouldn't be due in four days time anyway), I was going to do it.  I was going to go on the train.  Solo.

I took the bus to town and found the rail station by reading the signs.  Who said traveling was difficult?  (Maybe no one said that..)

English towns just got quainter...can you handle it?

This is Windermere.  I had to change trains at Oxenholme to travel further into the Lake District.  I took this picture about five minutes of walking distance away from the rail station.  I don't know anything about this town other than it's apart of the Lake District and holds the Beatrix Potter World.  But I've got this amazing super power that I used earlier to find the Lancaster station.  Common sense.

I had no idea where to go, but the town had a lake.  Obviously, I should go downhill.  And so I did.  Guess what I found?
Wait for it....

If you answered "a lake" you are absolutely correct!  I found the lake!  And then applying the knowledge of what I knew from Mrs. Potter's books and background, her museum wasn't far.

The museum was incredibly well done and paid a proper tribute to one of the greatest children's authors in history.

Beatrix Potter and Her Animal Characters

A Beautiful Recreation of Mr. McGregor's Garden

My Favorite Little Trouble Maker

It was a good day.

This weekend is also the Lancaster Literature Festival (another reason why this was my primary choice for a study abroad school) and a shopping trip in which I will try to look less like an American (probably not going to happen).  I'm so excited about future travels about England now that my first small journey has been successful and not emotionally scarring.

Cheers!

Shamefully Stashing Away My American Vindictiveness

A toast, to Trevor.

We celebrated its last night with a few Strongbow Ciders on the patio of my college bar, far enough away from the asbestos ridden structure.  The entirety of Furness has packed up and moved, including my pigeon hole (in British that means mailbox, it's quite ridiculous, really) and all the offices.  It's a good thing I figured out where my mail is going considering I should be expecting Mom's package of my winter wardrobe (thanks Mom).

Today, I was ready for class.  I haven't been in class for four months and I think my brain might have rotted a bit, but oh, was I ready.  At my first class, everyone seemed pleasant enough and it so happened that I was the only American in there.  After reading "A Clean Well-Lighted Place" by Hemingway, the professor opened the room for discussion.  Let's just say, it wasn't what I was used to.

"I completely disagree with you and your half-formed ideas, you nincompoop!"

Instead of a heated debate among students, with their pulsing veins and bright red faces that I've grown accustomed to back home at the COW or even in my AP classes in high school, I experienced this:

"What a sound idea!  I hadn't thought the green light in The Great Gatsby could be a symbol!  You're ever so smart"

It was a polite discussion in which the professor agreed with every student who volunteered, even if the ideas were completely ludicrous or irrelevant to the text.  The lecture, however, was informative and engaging.  I think I'm going to enjoy being talked at rather than interacting with my British peers.

Late last week I noticed that the registry entered one of my seminars incorrectly.  At the COW, this would mean apocalypse.  This would mean the end of all Semesters.  This would mean e-mailing countless professors and the registrar, sweating for a spot in the class you wanted, beating other students out of the way in the most brutal and neanderthalic fashion.  This would mean: you're screwed.

I marched into the English and Creative Writing department, fists clench, speech prepared, determination set.  I was going to have zero classes on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  No way were they going to "mistakenly" stick me for that early seminar on Friday, I am an American!  But first, who the hell was I going to talk to?

British Tutor Roaming the Hallway: "Can I help you find a room?"
Me: "What?  Oh, yeah..." looking at him suspiciously "I need to talk to someone about changing a seminar class..."
British Tutor: "Oh, yes, yes, right this way.  It's that door on your left."
Me: "Um...Thanks."

I pounded on the door, this was it, my retribution.  The woman inside motioned me in, she was grinning and listening to upbeat British music.  She smiled at me sweetly and asked what she could do to help.  Perplexed, I told her the issue.

"Well, that's certainly not right!  Funny how these things can mess up!" She sang merrily.
She typed away on the computer and seconds later looked up.  "Alrighty then, all set.  I'll email the tutor and let him know you'll be in the group."
"That's it?"
"That's it!"
And then I left.  I was pretty convinced that I wouldn't get away with this, I even considered not bothering with it and leaving the class for the Friday.  Now, I'm not quite sure what to do on my five day weekend, aside from studying.  I guess that means a trip back to London!

If anyone has other suggestions of a not-so-terrifying trip I could manage on my own, drop me a line!

Cheers!

So, Two Americans Walked into a Bar...

And it looked like this:

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

First, we saw this:

The small ruins of a Roman bathhouse

After my friend and I toured the castle, which unfortunately did not allow any pictures despite me thinking about trying to take a few, the guide informed us of Lancaster's ruins of a Roman bath that are directly behind the cathedral that stands next to the castle itself.

The tour of the castle, however, was extremely fascinating.  The first room we walked into was still in use for a rather small court of justice.  In this particular room, shields of arms lined the walls, dating back to Henry III and his knights, to the current Queen Elizabeth II.  Members who are still working in the castle even had to invent their own coat of arms.  The guide showed us one shield, with crosses and zig-zags darting down the middle, belonging to an electrician.  The zig-zags represented his years working with electricity. 

I also learned that the castle was a working prison until five months ago, when it was deemed unfit for prisoners.  It was usually for young men serving small sentences of drug-related crimes.  Honestly, if I were to be hauled off to prison, I'd want to go to this castle!  The original cells are quite roomy for about a few people.  The guide offered to shut us inside to get a taste of what convicts had to face!

I was informed about the famous Pendle witch trials here as well.  I knew they must be important to my University because an entire college is named in their sake.  The tour guide said that a little girl of about six years old, accused members of her family and neighbors of being witches, thus ultimately leading to their trials and executions.  Thanks, little Susie.

After an educational afternoon, we then headed for the Borough, a pub located across from the town hall and the looming statue of Queen Victoria.  It was there I had the best fish and chips yet followed by my first British dessert of an apple and berry crumble drenched in custard.  We originally planned on having a pint of cider, but the Lancaster Amber caught my eye, I just had to try it.  Everything was exquisite but I think I'm going to lay off the pub food for a while!

Last night, I finally made my way over to my own college's bar, Trevor.  It was unfortunate how much I enjoyed myself there because it will be closed for renovation.  We asked the bartender why this is and he responded with a grunt, "asbestos".  Ew.

I love my asbestos bar!

I'm fairly certain this is the only bar on campus that A.) serves a beer on tap by the name of Dragon's Cub B.) plays all of my favorite alternative American music, and C.) has table tennis, a terrace, and darts.

And before I leave to begin my Saturday...
A German, an American, and an Irishmen walk into a bar and order a beer.  Unfortunately, in each beer floats a fly.  The German shrugs and guzzles the beer, fly and all.  The American plucks the fly out and drinks the beer.  The Irishmen sits the fly on the counter and shouts at the poor insect, "SPIT IT OUT!"

Cheers!

The Wooster Element

Thursday of Freshers week, I went on an adventure.  Having already explored the town of Lancashire, I was eager to see the surrounding fields of northern England...and well, I did:

The view from a Lonsdale College flat

This is your average field, no big deal.

"So what do you keep in that Dora the Explorer backpack of yours?"

I cannot even begin to tell you how beautiful northern England is.  However, it's much like the scene in The Sound of Music where Julie Andrews is belting out her number on the massive green hills.  Compared to Wooster, everything is much more rugged and wild, but also a healthy glow of bright green grass.  Wooster is manicured, and calm with its wheat fields and soft breezes.

Eventually, we came to the small little town of I-Can't-Recall-The-Name.  It was very adorable and quaint, smaller and a bit more beaten looking than Lancashire.

The town reminds me of Little Whinging in Harry Potter

I was tired of the strong gusts of wind knocking me off my feet and so we journeyed a mile down the country road back to the University for the Freshers' Fair.  After all, we were just killing some time, ya know?

I know I have sheep back home, but English sheep are so much cooler

They were also extremely offended when I was posing with them for a picture

This side-trip was a reminder to me that I'm definitely not, and never will be, a city girl.  Wide open spaces are just about right.

Back at the University, I attended the Fresher's Fair with two friends.  We fought our way through the abnormally tall freshmen and I surprised myself by signing up for Archery (I am a Hunter, after all), and the backpacking club.  I'm not quite sure how cut out I am for these pseudo-sports but I reckoned this is the place to try new things.
Speaking of new things, I have already found my favorite spots on campus for both hanging out and talking with good friends and getting the best jacket potato.  The Grisdale College's bar has a modern decor but a great atmosphere.  I made friends with the bartender, but after he told me to order a Carlsburg beer (because it was the cheapest), our friendship quickly feel flat, like the beer.  Long story short, Carlsburg is the Natty Light of England.
And as far as jacket potatoes (baked potatoes) go, County College's eatery is the best.

The Brits do not take their cheese lightly

And in a quick food related note, I would like Mrs. E to know that their pocky sticks are the best here!

It's strange in a few days time I'll be figuring out how my classes work.  I already have accumulated a massive booklist for Victorian Literature, however, I only have British Romanticism to worry about after that.  I can't imagine Creative Writing would be calling for a million books.

Tomorrow I head back into town, I just can't resist the potential castle tour waiting for me in Lancashire.  However, I am itching to go back to London and possibly meet up with Rachel again, as well as making baby steps to step outside of England.  I'll be excited when Boyfriend books his flight for Thanksgiving and is my escort around Ireland!

Cheers!

Pocket Lancaster

This morning was the morning I explored the beautifully old town of Lancaster.  During the international student orientation, the local historian came in and taught us the history of our University's town.  Many were alert on the edge of their seat, many were asleep, and me--well, I was still thinking about how my wallet was approximately three hours and forty five minutes away, but I caught a few main points.

The coach rolled out of Lancaster and past miles of bright green fields, scattered with sheep that looked like little walking clouds across the land.  The fields were perfectly manicured with the occasional healthy-looking tree that loomed over resting cows in the lush grass.  I almost wished I walked those four miles.

And as I gazed upon the beauty of the cobblestone streets, I thought to myself, thank God I didn't buy those high-heeled boots

Built Circa 1094

There were two structures in the town that I didn't want to miss.  One of which, I had read about when applying to this school nearly six months ago:

This is one mere doorway to this enormous beauty

The castle, wrapping around a corner, about the size of two or three Kaukes!

The Castle!  Lancaster's castle is the oldest standing building in the entire town.  It was originally a Roman fort built in 79 A.D. and has changed many hands over this long course of time, royal hands to be precise.  Richard the Lionheart (who passed it on to his brother), Henry III and IV, and even Elizabeth I (spent an enormous amount of money to rebuild the top levels.  This castle is also home to the famous trials of the Pendle witches as well as acting as a prison at one point.  There is even a hanging corner which I'm sure I passed unknowingly.
Queen Victoria also made a large impression in front of the town's hall, literally:

Queen Victoria looking rather sour

Famous Brits who are relevant to the town.  It was said that Dickens wrote a short story in a hotel in Lancaster.

Just in case no one noticed the Ashton Memorial, he stuck this one in for good measure

Lord Ashton, who created this rather affectionate memorial to Queen Victoria, brought the popularity of oil cloth and linoleum to the town of Lancaster.  Basically, he was filthy rich and started to make a giant memorial on the top of the hill for his second wife, Jessy.  She passed away and he remarried Lady Ashton III while the memorial was still being built.  While the memorial itself is a glorious artichetural gem, it remains empty on the inside.

Behind me is a small pool of water with spigots for water fountains (it wasn't ornate enough without them)

The view is also breathtaking:

We also went into some very beautiful cathedrals today as well.  The churches are just as ornate as the Ashton memorial.

 When I got back after such an amazing day in my town, I decided to try my jinxed luck at the Porter's lodge (where they keep my mail).  I scanned the list, desperate for any news on my wallet, and sure enough I spotted my name. 

This wallet has been through hell and high water.  The weekend before I was going to leave, I accidentally left it in Boyfriend's car and he drove it off to Wooster and had to overnight it back to me.  Now, it had just spent three and a half days hanging out in London.  I think it's possessed, or has a mind of it's own and doesn't care for me.  Too bad, it's never leaving my sight again.

Tonight I go to the international dinner and hopefully after to Trevor, my college's adorable bar, because it will be closed in a weeks time for renovation!

Cheers!