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!

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!

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!)

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!

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!

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!)

And Then, Everything that Went Wrong, Did, but it All Had a Happy Ending (So Far)

Once upon a time, there was an unfortunate girl who had the very fortunate experience of traveling to the UK.  This girl, usually organized under most conditions, found herself to be particularly flighty under these stressful circumstances.

Let me begin with the Flight from Hell.  Okay, so it wasn't that bad but the almost-but-not-really sinus infection I accumulated two days prior to adventuring to London didn't fair well on the acceding and descending flights.  By the time I arrived at Toronto, I was too sick and confused to know right from left and the Canadians I surely thought to be friendly were the most unhelpful bunch of tourist-craved nimrods I'd ever come across.  I was so stressed out that I managed to realize I was no longer carrying my coat.  Yes, I lost my beloved AE coat.

London was far worse.  By then, my ears were so pressurized it felt like someone had released me into Outer Space with no fish bowl full of air over my head.  I thought I was going to implode.  I sucked it up, found the Arcadia group at the airport, and we headed to the hotel.

The next few days were a high-speed flash of various tourist activities through the eyes of the aforementioned unfortunate girl who was drugged on Sudafed the entire time.  But, I had a blast (see examples below):

The view from my hotel window (Kensington Gardens)

 

 

My first ever Guinness (I was unable to hear the whole night so I kept shouting at people to speak up)

And then, I won.  Won what, you ask?  I won Rachel.  That's right, I found Rachel! 

Don't worry, it's still the first Guinness and Rachel's first apple juice

 After the first night of the Arcadia orientation (majority Oxford students, one going to York, and three of us off to Lancaster), I put on the puppy-eyes and begged for a doctor.  After two hours of getting lost in West London (quite frightening when you don't know where you are going and have to pretend that you aren't lost), I finally got to see the doctor.  After an interesting appointment with Dr. Stereotypical Old British Man, I got my meds and was good to go.

As an English major, I fulfilled my life duty by traveling to the Globe and seeing a play preformed called Mysteries.  It was an amazing experience, being a groundling and all.  It was everything that Maria Teresa Prendergast had drilled into my head back at Wooster.

We received flowers because we are so beautifully awesome

Introducing the then-future students of Oxford...And me.

After a three hour train ride in which I realized I left my wallet at the hotel, I finally got to Lancaster!  But that's a different story, one that is still working on an ending.

Cheers!

The Mid-Summer Slack

Okay Jacki, I get it, I'm doing a horrible job at the following:

-Working on my portfolio for you
-Reading your emails
-Reading emails in general
-Responding to aforementioned emails

But hey, let's not take this personally, I've neglected EVERYONE due to the mid-summer loll.  However, I understand that this excuse will certainly not fly with Mom and Dad sooo I'll just go with a terrible case of writer's block.

Yeah, writer's block.  We'll go with that.

Anyway, September 28 is slowly approaching, along with the guilt I feel from knowing that some of my friends (ahem ahem) have already traveled across the globe (and back).  I'll get on it.....


Cheers!