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!

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!

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!

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!)

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 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!