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!

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!

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!