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!

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!