You Think it's EASY Being This Awesome?

You know you're slowing turning British when you...

2011-03-07T13:40:00.000Z

1. ...find yourself craving a good curry.

2. ...you apologise when someone steps on your toes or runs into to you.

3. ...write "apologise" rather than "apologize"

4. ...eat baked beans outside of a BBQ context.

5. ...passive aggressively stare at the young man whose iPod is so loud you can hear his bad taste in music, or any other fellow passenger on your overstuffed, delayed Tube train.

6. ...stop whatever you are doing and stand in the sun the two times it comes out a year.

7. ...find yourself having a conversation about the weather more than three times a day.

8. ...have bought more than one umbrella in the past week.

9. ...get upset that someone had the indecency to throw themselves infront of a train when you're already running late.

10. ...know the exact date and china to be used at the Royal Wedding this year.

Am I doomed to a life of licking envelopes and sorting?

2011-02-10T15:22:00.001Z

I turn 26 next week and as I slowly say goodbye to my "early twenties", I feel like I've been more or less running in place for the past few years.

I've finished my masters, but it was in just as useless a degree (ethnomusicology) as my undergrad (music performance). Unqualified for any job more complicated than admin assistant, I rejoiced at scoring my internship at a world music magazine. I love writing and I love world music. I seemed to finally be making headway. But alas, after finishing one month of a three month internship, I'm panicking once again. I will not be able to stay at the magazine and forge a career, but rather will have to find another job. The world, unfortuatnely, is not full of world music magazines and I'm at a loss of where to go next.

I could try to look for a publishing job, but I do not feel qualified having no journalism experience beyond my blogging and only a partially completed internship at a small magazine. Plus, I am not sure I want to leave the world music industry. I love going to concerts, hearing new music fresh off the press, and being generally involved in the music scene.

However, without another world music magazine to go to, I end up just as unqualified for anything as before the internship.

I have tried applying for a PhD (in ethnomusicology), but I think I'm just once again postponing this "unqualified" feeling as it is near impossible to become a lecturer (the only thing such a degree qualifies you for) afterwards.

So... A) does anyone have any suggestions and B) is anyone interested in hiring me for a job that requires more skill than licking envelopes?

TIme for an update

2011-02-02T00:26:00.000Z

Just to get back in the habit of writing often, I've decided to give you a quick update. And I mean quick:

Finished/submitted MMus Dissertation. Rocked it.
Officially finished MMus degree. Kicked butt.
Doing work experience for World Music Network. Oh yeah.
Interning at Songlines Magazine. SHAWEET.
Making almost no money. Pretty sad.
Applying for PhD's in Ethnomusicology. Not so sweet.
Generally, rocking at life. Win.

7 months? That's NOTHING! Stop whining.

2011-01-31T23:06:00.000Z

So...7 months ago I said I was going to keep updating this blog. And haven't written anything since.

I'm not good at following through on things...

I did figure out my problem, however. Because I do regulary update my other project Nomad's Playlist, I am always logged in on that account. I can't be asked to log out and re-log in on this account only to re-log out and re-log in. It's because I'm lazy. L-A-Z-Y.

I have fixed the problem. It's called different browsers (aka magic). I'm logged in on one account on Firefox and the Safari for the other. It's a miracle! No logging in/out and re-logging in/out! I'm fricking brilliant. BRILLIANT!
Sometimes I feel like I should be on a Guiness commercial.

Basically, I'm summing up that, as always, I'm awesome and that this time I really will be around more often...if anyone is still reading this.

Oh. And P.S. If you haven't starting following Nomad's Playlist, you might as well live in a cave.

It's got a new look and everything!

Tah!

Holy Crap. I'm still awesome.

2010-06-16T11:16:00.000+01:00

Hey Everyone! I know it's been so long since I've really written anything. I've been so consumed by my new project, Nomad's Playlist. (If you haven't already gone over to my new blog and followed, prepare to feel my wrath!)

Anywho.

Don't worry. I'm still around and will still try to update this blog. I know you might of cried a little when you thought I was gone. But I'm here for you.

My first post back: More proof of my awesomeness. In the spirit of the World Cup, I thought I'd share with everyone the fact that I too am a footballer. Yes that's right. I know. I am awesome.

I'm the cute one just to the left of the ball. I win....or rather, I won. That year my team one the Championship. Woot.

These things all tend to happen at once, don't they?

2010-06-01T10:49:00.002+01:00

As you begin to learn is the pattern the longer you live, everything in my life is changing at the same time.

Exams and courses are over and so are the much appreciated, forced interaction with the wonderful people from my courses.
My relationship has ended and I once again find myself single and in a desperate search for myself.
I am moving again for what will be my third home since I moved to London 8 months ago.

However, don't get me wrong. I'm not lamenting these changes necessarily. I have always been addicted to change. I've dyed my hair every color under the sun and I've moved every chance I get-- just confirming how much I need change.

Regardless, I do find myself anxious and with far more time on my hands without a boyfriend and without classes. I've decided that I'm going to get back into dancing. I still have all my costume stuff in my closest that hasn't been touched since I unpacked it in Sept. But looking back on all the fun I had, I think last year, I think its about time I pick it back up. :)

No, I have no shame...Now go visit already! :)

2010-05-24T09:04:00.003+01:00

To my wonderful readers:
I do hope you get the chance to hop on over to my new project, Nomad's Playlist. Today you can read the second installment of "This Week's Picks," find out how to submit your own guest review, and view a calendar of world music events happening in London.

Nomad's Playlist is my new baby, and I'm afraid it's not getting the attention it needs, so I am not ashamed to push it. :) I am not only looking for a fan base, but healthy critics. I want to know what you think, what could be better, what you like to see, what should be changed, etc.

Thanks and I hope to see you over on the new blog!

http://nomadsplaylist.blogspot.com

Nomad's Playlist- because I don't have enough to do

2010-05-16T21:57:00.001+01:00

Because I have no life, I've started a new blog project. It's called Nomad's Playlist and I would love it if you could take a few moments to check it out.

It's a world music blog, where I and hopefully other writers review world music tracks, post upcoming concerts in the London area and post world music news.

Please check it out and tell me what you think. :)

http://nomadsplaylist.blogspot.com

Thank you "R." I cannot get that 20 minutes of my life back.

2010-05-11T20:19:00.004+01:00

I got a wonderful comment on my last post this afternoon:

Anonymous said...
Hi,
I just wanted to say how much I loved your blog? Are you still writing the blog or have you finished?
Also, I love SJF! SJF is awesome. Are you going to write more about him?
R

Funnily enough, SJF has recently discovered my blog. Rather than be upset, the fact that he has an internet presence has only fueled his already gigantic ego, claiming that I should in fact write more about him.

So this afternoon, when I saw this comment, I naturally assumed it was him being funny. I called him up and said, "Funny blog comment. You're so ridiculously vain." He claimed to have no idea what I was talking about, or rather what I was talking about after mentioning the blog comment (he knows he's vain). Assuming he was just playing dumb, I wasn't having any of it. Finally, I read the comment to him and he said "NO WAY! Let me see!"

It then took roughly ten minutes to explain what it means to type a website address into a URL bar. (I forgot how pathetically computer illiterate he is and realized he was not capable of leaving a comment)
"Who wrote that?"
"I don't know, 'R'?"
"There's got to be some way to find out! I want to meet this brilliant person!"

So, thank you "R" for your wonderful comment, but know that I then had to spend 20 minutes listening to SJF tell me what a legend he is, that there should really be more stories about him and my "fans were calling." Thank you.

Field Notes: Kibuki Ceremony April 7th, 2010

2010-04-19T22:18:00.008+01:00

The building looming in front of me is intimidating. It is a long and skinny seven storey block of cement. I looks identical to the seven or so other buildings that surround the roundabout. I stare at the building for an indeterminate time, trying to figure out how to find the woman I had been sent to see. I do not know her name and only know that she lives on the third floor. Secretly wishing that she would magically step outside her flat and call me up to her, I wait. It does not take long for a man to notice my look of distress and asks me if I need help.

“Well, I need to find a woman who lives on the third floor of this building,” I say as I squint up at the building once again.

“What is her name?” I laugh and tell him I do not know. He laughs back and we both sit there perplexed.

I decide to trying calling Farid, the man who sent me in search of the woman, once again, in hopes of receiving more detailed instructions. Farid answers and once again tells me that she lives on the third floor. The man next to me asks for the phone and after speaking in Swahili to Farid, instructs me to follow him. We surprisingly enough walk up to the third floor and knock on a door. Two young boys answer and their mother, whose name turns out to be Fatma, was not home. We finally track her down and the young boys drag me along to another of the large concrete buildings.

The flat is that of Rahma and another Fatma, the boys’ mother’s friends. These are the women who have been kind enough to take me along to the kibuki ceremony this evening. Kibuki is a ceremony mainly for women and gays, in which they become possessed by kibuki (Comorian) spirits. I am asked to sit down and watch Swahili soap operas while Rahma and Fatma get ready for the ceremony. I watch as they get dressed in fancy satin dresses, called dera, and put on makeup.

Soon, we piled into Fatma’s car and drove to a part of town that lives in the shadow of the gigantic cement buildings. We are dropped off and as we walk towards the building, I can already hear the music. As we enter the building, Rahma and Fatma put on their kangas (brightly patterned cloth)—one around their waist and one folded neatly lengthwise and thrown over the shoulder. We are greeted by a woman, and I am introduced in Swahili. The woman laughs and invites us in. Rahma and Fatma do not speak much English, and have to gesture to tell me to remove my shoes before entering.

The room is already full of twenty or so people, some sitting in a circle of chairs and the rest on the floor behind the chairs. The air is already thick with incense and a CD player blasts accordion music from the far corner. A small woman sees me as I enter and enthusiastically gestures for me to sit on the floor next to her. I take my place on the floor and watch Rahma and Fatma pick chairs. Even though the music is recorded, there are three shakers migrating around the room and various individuals clapping along. The atmosphere is already overwhelming and people are still arriving.

I notice that people are getting up from their chairs one by one and greeting a large woman in a chair on the other side of the room.

“What are they doing?” I ask the woman next to me. She giggles and says something in Swahili that I cannot understand, but I do hear the word shitani, or spirit. The large woman had already become possessed by her shitani and all the other members were taking time to greet it and pay their respect. I cannot see the shitani well from where I sit, but I do not have to wait long before I see another woman overcome by her shitani. The woman is sitting in a chair on the other side of the room and another woman approaches her with an earthenware brazier billowing incense. The seated woman removes the kanga hung over her shoulder and unfolding it places it over her head. The attendant then places the incense under the kanga and I can she her saying something. Soon the woman under the kanga begins shaking and shouting. Two other women rush over and remove the kanga from the shitani’s head as it stands, still shaking. They then tie the kanga over one shoulder while another woman brings a spear. The shitani stands shaking for a few minutes before dancing in the middle of the circle of chairs.

By now, the woman carrying the brazier of incense has moved on to the next woman in the circle. The same process is followed and soon this new woman is shouting and shaking. This time, the shitani simply slouches in its chair and its attendants instead tie the kanga around its head and provide a foot rest and staff. The shitani stays in its seat, slouched and shaking like an old man rather than dancing in the center of the room.

Methodically, the woman with the incense visits each member in the circle of chairs and a new shitani enters the room. The kangas are placed in various positions – around the head, over the shoulder, draped over the head, tied under the armpits, etc – which makes it easy to spot who is a shitani and who is not. If a woman still has the kanga draped neatly over one shoulder, she is not a shitani.

I enthusiastically watch the events and the small woman next to me spends most of her time encouraging me to clap along and explaining everything to me in Swahili. I unfortunately do not understand anything she says, but don’t have the heart to tell her so. Every now and then I nod my head as if I understand and she lets out a good-hearted laugh and slaps me gently on the knee or back.

Soon the room is full of shitani and I enjoy watching the different personalities. Some shitani are warriors, dancing fiercely with spears, others are female and graceful. One shitani, who is warrior-like, spends half the time dancing fiercely and the other half walking around the room, shouting in Swahili and making the room burst out in laughter. Again, I unfortunately do not understand what the shitani is saying, but I get the impression it is being a bit of a joker and trying to make people laugh. Some shitani sit on other women’s laps, sometimes still dancing and bouncing, which makes it easy to understand where the rumors I had heard earlier about kibuki being full of lesbians come from. More and more people have arrived and by now there are at least 50 people in the room and it is slowly entering chaos.

I gradually become aware of the attention I am receiving from the shitani. I appear to be quite the novelty, with most shitani staring at me interestedly. A few even approach me and rub my head, shouting, “Meva,” the shitani greeting. Before I realize what is going on, one shitani grabs my hand and forcefully encourages me to follow it. I am led over to a chair and to forced to kneel in front of it. The shitani grabs someone’s kanga, and throws it over my head while grabbing a brazier of smoking incense. It then places the incense under the kanga and when nothing happens after a minute or so, it becomes frustrated and removes the kanga, paints my palms and face white, places two coins in each hand, and then tosses water from a bowl full of coins on my face. From what I could tell, this is the process undergone when a shitani is leaving a person.

I am also given a shot of cognac before I am led back to my original seat. I do not sit long before another shitani approaches me and urges me to follow. I am taken to another shitani, and this one asks me if I speak English in Swahili.

“Naam, pole. (Yes, sorry.) I only speak English.”

“I like English. I try to speak, but I am no good.”

“Your English is better than my Swahili!” The shitani then lets out a loud laugh, slaps me on the shoulder and shouts, “Meva!”Before I make it back to my seat, Rahma intercepts me and informs me that we are going to leave. We collect our shoes and bags and before completely leaving the building, another shitani stops us and shouts, “Meva!”

Back from paradise

2010-04-15T10:37:00.001+01:00

Well I'm finally back from Zanzibar. I had a great time and believe I got some decent fieldwork and some stupid tan lines. :) I will write a few of my field notes as posts soon, but for now here are some pictures:

خَمْسة أيّامٍ

2010-03-21T00:20:00.001Z

5 days before I leave for Zanzibar
1 gigantic Arabic Exam on Monday
3,000 word essay due before I leave
3 books to read before I return from Zanzibar
200+ Arabic vocab learned today
100+ Arabic vocab yet to learn
2-3 hours of Eritrean music to enjoy tomorrow
30 minutes of official interview with Eritrean restaurant owner to conduct tomorrow
4 cups of coffee today
2 hours of hair pulling
1 Swahili phrasebook bought
6 emails sent in hopes of finding spirit possession contacts in Zanzibar
57 blue-green Doxycycline pills to start on Wednesday
90 day Tanzanian visa acquired
17 night stay arranged in Zanzibar

1 excited, but stressed, chica!

What is that strange glowing orb in the sky and why does it burn?!

2010-03-14T22:11:00.001Z

My room's curtains are quite heavy and keep any daylight out of my room. So, this morning, after I woke up and went to open my curtains, I was suddenly hit with a brilliant beam of light that sent me hissing and screaming into a corner of my room.
It took me several minutes before snapping out of this confusion and figuring out what caused this violent phenomenon. However, I apparently didn't remember what you're supposed to do with sunny days and spent a good chunk of my day doing work on the computer. I finally realized my mistake, and still not quite getting it, I laid in the sum beam shining on my floor for about an hour.

It was then that I remembered you're supposed to go outside when it's sunny and like 12C (53F). Needless to say, by the time I made it outside, the sun had dipped below the skyline.

I now have a reminder next to my window for the next sunny day:

GO OUTSIDE IF IT'S SUNNY, YOU IDIOT.

Aren't weekends supposed to be fun?!

2010-03-14T00:03:00.001Z

When I sat down to contemplate all the things I needed to work on this weekend, this was my reaction:

But I think my fuzzy face-of-horror, was premature. It looks like maybe I'll get everything done and still have some time to goof off on my blog!
I've rocked out on my fieldwork report on Ethiopian music in London. I had an interview with a restaurant owner down in Elephant and Castle. For those of you unfamiliar with Elephant and Castle, let me try to recreate the scene for you. Just imagine how much you'd want to run into this character:

Yeah. That's how much you want to go to Elephant and Castle. At any rate, there was this great hidden Ethiopian restaurant, whose owner was very helpful and gave me some good material for my research.

I also finished one of three books that I need to finish in the next week and a half before I leave for Zanzibar.

Sweet. I rock.

An Aichmophobe's Worst Nightmare

2010-03-10T20:32:00.001Z

I caved and had my first acupuncture session ever today. I feel great! I haven't been this relaxed in who knows how long and there's no better time to feel so relaxed than right now, when I've been on the verge of mental breakdown for a good two or so weeks.

I know, you're probably thinking, "You're going to friggin Zanzibar. How are you stressed out?!"

The answer: because I'm the biggest ball of of stress you'll ever meet.

I get stressed out about anything and everything. Just ask anyone who knows me. A big essay due, an exam, a trip, relationship troubles, a bad cup of coffee, the use of a wrong color in my calendar for an event (yes, I color-code the entries in my calendar according to type of event), a bill to be paid, a call I have to make, a hair in my water, and pretty much anything else you can think of sets me off. I hyperventilate, most likely cry, and mentally shut down for a period of time (and some of those times are longer than others).

Now, however, I feel great. Let's see how long this lasts...

(By the way, if you didn't know or haven't figured out yet, aichmophobia is the fear of needles and sharp objects. You learn something new every day!)

Zanzibar!!

2010-03-06T18:54:00.000Z

I now have in my possession round trip tickets to Zanzibar! I leave in less than three weeks and I'll be there for two and a half weeks. I'm heading out to Zanzibar to hopefully do some fieldwork on spirit possession cults for my dissertation, which is due later this year. I'm only there for just over two weeks and therefore may not get much field work out of the deal. However, I'm not going to be too disappointed if I end up just getting to spend several weeks on the beach. What a shame that will be!

Although, it does appear that I've picked Zanzibar's rainiest month to visit. Here's hoping the rain holds off as much as possible while I'm there!

Worst Mood EVAH!

2010-03-03T22:43:00.000Z

I am, for only god knows why, in the worst mood ever! This morning I got tons of work done, I treated myself to lunch, and then I met up with SJF for a lovely evening. Well, a lovely evening until he accidentally stumbled across the journal I keep. Yes, I'm a 13 year old girl and keep a journal sometimes when I'm too pathetic to publicly write my inane thoughts on the blog. Well, he stumbled across it and read enough to last him a life time of ridicule before I could snatch it away again.

Of course, it's funny. I'm so pathetic, I can laugh at myself. But there is a clear difference between laughing at yourself and having someone else laugh at you! I've never been so embarrassed in my life! Oh woe is me! I had such a lovely day and now I feel like hurting someone... and badly. Luckily for SJF, he realized the danger of the situation and quickly made himself scarce before I could headbutt him in the face. Which is a shame really, it would have released my frustration and possibly caused enough brain damage for him to forget everything he read.

Stratford and Oxford, a crazy King, and some rain...just a typical weekend in England

2010-03-02T22:22:00.000Z

This weekend SJF (yes, I think I've forgotten to tell you that we are back together...maybe a story for another time) and I went with my students to Stratford-Upon-Avon, the Cotswolds and Oxford. Despite the fact that we found ourselves caught in a bit of rain (mostly in the Cotswolds), these were such idyllic and beautiful places. We stayed in the evening and saw the Royal Shakespeare Company perform King Lear in an absolutely amazing production. It was a great weekend and I am really looking forward to the next time I get to visit.

I may not be full of the brightest ideas

2010-02-26T00:28:00.004Z

My trip back home last week was successful, and by successful I mean relaxing. I didn't do any work-- period. That means I'm now back in London and staring at a To-Do pile so large that I'm starting to worry that it will soon grow a mouth and quickly begin devouring Tokyo.

While on the plane ride back to London, I figured why not get some work done. I read a few articles and quickly lost my concentration. That was mainly due to the two women behind me. One was older, and the other roughly my age. They were obviously on some business trip and the younger girl was going on and on about how important her project and team were, and how she wishes she could just pass off the smaller projects to another woman, but that other woman "wouldn't be able to put together as good a report." I'm not exaggerating when I say that these two were putting on a haughty accent, as if they were really the hottest shit to walk the earth.

Might I remind you that they sat behind me....in coach!

Anywho, tiring quickly of eavesdropping on that conversation, I decided to pull out some of my Arabic and put in a little time studying that instead. I sat there writing and rewriting some vocab in an attempt to force it into my brain. After a few minutes, I looked at the page, then looked around me. Noticing the looks I was getting from my neighbors, I realized I was on a plane. Maybe working on Arabic was not my best course of action. Quietly tucking the paper back in to my bag, I pulled out my computer, mumbled a few words to myself and then clicked on this website.

Shame. Nobody on that plane has a sense of humor.

So what if I'm old? I get CAKE!

2010-02-18T13:52:00.000Z

It's my birthday! Happy Birthday to me!
Yes, I may have turned a quarter century old and yes, I may have a breakdown about it; however, I am not one of those people who has stopped looking forward to birthdays. I mean come on! Regardless of how old you are, it's still your day. You still get cake and presents! Why would you want to skip that?!

It's true, I certainly thought about "accidentally forgetting" that my birthday happened. Or hiding in a hole until it all passed. But then I remembered that this is why you date someone older than you. No matter how old you get, they're always older and you can always make fun of them for it.

So, I'm still going to celebrate! I suggest everyone learn to do the same. If anything else, just start lying about your age on your birthday. Start counting backwards. But, for god sake, don't give up the cake!

It's good to be home.

2010-02-17T13:23:00.000Z

Home! I've made it back to my parent's abode in bum-fuck New Hampshire, and I'm LOVING IT! Never before has the expanse of nothingness and forest been so pleasant. The woods do not contain thousands upon thousands of people pushing and shoving trying to get their way to work.

On top of all that, there is a fresh blanket of snow, roughly 4" or 5" deep, from yesterday's snow storm. Can you believe that I'm actually glad to see it?! In the 10 years I've lived in New England, I've learned to despise snow. It only meant shoveling, cold hands, and terrible drivers. Now, having not seen any snow that has stuck for more than a day this winter, I'm glad to see some snow. It's comforting to see fresh snow outside while I curl up inside with my coffee and a good book.

That's another thing, I've already read two books since I've been home. And get this, they weren't academic books! BLASPHEMY! But I loved every minute of it. So much so, that I'm not put off by the fact that I should probably start doing some real work for the rest of the week.

It's good to be home.

Keep your hands off my momma

2010-02-09T22:52:00.001Z

I am currently sitting at my desk distraught and considering quitting my current degree and joining the circus, because my life is such a joke that I'd make a great clown. So, I figure what better to cheer me up but to write a post instead of actually trying to do the work that might pull me out of my rut.

Superbowl 44 baby! I love American football and actually stayed up on Sunday night to watch it here live on BBC. Well, ok, that might be an exaggeration. I stayed up until 2:30am, at which point the Colts (my team) lost their lead and I gave up and went to bed. Granted, I don't hate the Saints, and I've got to give it to Drew Brees who played a great game. But the most depressing part of the whole shebang is that BBC doesn't play commercials! I missed out on the commercials! WTF?!

So what did I do? I actually looked them up. What has the world come to? I actively searched YouTube to watch not one, but several commercials. All for crap I'm not going to buy!

At any rate, I've decided that this Doritos commercial was my favorite.

Amazing. I like that little boy already.

Catching Up

2010-02-08T19:41:00.000Z

Yikes! I've done it again. I've disappeared from the blogosphere. It's because I'm trying my best to get caught up so that I can enjoy my week back home in the States next week.

Things I've recently done/need to catch up on before I leave:

*Submit a dissertation title. I've got something in the works, but have to meet with my supervisor tomorrow to work out the logistics. Either that, or she's going to tell me it's impossible and I fail at life.
*Pick Essay #2 Topic for Middle East Class. Yeah. Not really sure where to start here, but I'm hoping to do something along the lines of protest music used in the Iran elections, or otherwise politically charged music.
*Organize my Fieldwork Project. I've decided on a topic -- Soundscapes of the Coffee Houses on Edgware Road, London -- but now I need to figure out how to conduct research and gather some resources.
*Catch up on Arabic studying. My Arabic class is now up to Lesson 11, and I only know up to about Lesson 6. I have Lesson 7-11's vocab to learn, and need to revise and put together something so that I can effectively get some study done while I'm home.
*Catch up on reading. I have about 30 articles and at least two books that I would like to have read by the time Reading Week is over and I know I will get so little reading actually done when home, so I guess I've got the next few days to get that done.

I am trying really hard to breathe deep and refuse to be overwhelmed. Emphasis on the"trying."

I'm in denial

2010-01-30T22:01:00.002Z

So I think I've developed an allergy to red wine, and I died a little inside by saying that. I love red wine.
No.
Let me rephrase.
I FRIGGIN' LOOOOVE RED WINE!

However, every time I've had it recently, I get major headaches and pretty much pass out before the night is through. This is not cool when you're on the dance floor of a kick-ass club.

So I've decided to give myself some time away from it.

The thing making this the hardest? I had a full bottle of wine sitting right in front of me that I haven't broken into yet. It's just staring at me....begging to be had.

So, I've had a long day-- spent all day in Lincoln (which was great, but I forgot my camera, so I'm waiting for everyone else to post pictures so I can steal them before posting about it) and am absolutely exhausted. Meaning...I can go ahead and indulge myself on at least half this bottle and pass out, which I probably would have done without the help of wine. Plus, the plan is to pass out before the migraine kicks in. Foolproof.

Cheers!

I'm still alive, I promise!

2010-01-28T14:45:00.000Z

So, I've found myself with shoddy internet the past few days and haven't been able to find enough time to write. The internet at my dorm is non-existant it seems and on campus I get kicked offline everything 2 minutes or so.

I didn't think much about it until I realized my last post was pretty pathetic. So, I mainly just wanted to let everyone know that no, I did not go become a hermit living in the woods with 23 cats (all named Kitty I, Kitty II, and so on) and a shot-gun in an attempt to get over men.

I'm still around, just can't get on the interwebs.

However, I will take this time to tell you a story I had meant tell you before my love life drama:

Friday night, I was scheduled to help out with a concert SOAS was putting hosting of the group El-Andaluz. The group was an Arabic and Andalusian fusion. I had heard they were really good, and we were expecting a decent crowd for the concert. The concerts are free, so it's a first-come-first-serve basis. We hand out tickets so that we can count how many people go in and once it's full, we can't let anyone else in.

This particular group took their sweet time with the sound check, and even though the concert was scheduled to start at 7:00pm, we couldn't open the doors until about quarter to 7:00. Once we opened the doors, we were greeted by a lobby FULL of people. We started handing out the tickets and letting people in one-by-one. Of course, we got complaints from those who were some of the first to be let in: "You should have let us in earlier," "We were waiting forever," etc etc.

Generally at these concerts, there's a surge of people at the beginning which quickly thins out. This time-- not so. We had a constant stream of people until we ran out of room in the concert hall. At this point, we still had any where between 100 to 200 people still queuing (this concert hall only holds 275 or so to begin with).

This is when the fun started. It's amazing how carnal people become in this situations. Shortly, I had to shut the door for the concert to start and hold people off. I physically had to play bouncer at points during the night and deal with stupid requests:
-"Just open the door so we can listen."
-"My friend's in there, she saved me a seat." "No, ma'am, I'm sorry no one was allowed to save seats." "But she's in there." "Too bad."
-"I was waiting longer than that lady you just let in"

For normal people, this would be hell. For me, my opportunity to shine! I love being a bitch and there's no quicker way to make me bitchier than to try and bully me. And, these people actually thought that bullying me would work. Little did they know.

I throughly enjoyed myself shouting at the crowd:
"BACK UP! YOU WILL NOT GET IN ANY QUICKER BY CRUSHING THE PEOPLE IN FRONT OF YOU"
"NO! YOU CANNOT GO IN."
"EVERYONE STEP BACK AND STOP PUSHING!"

I might as well have played The Incredible Hulk.

The whining and nastiness did not end. In fact, my boss gave up and decided that we would leave the doors open so everyone could listen from the hallway. After shouting for awhile, we had a peaceful moment while people in the lobby listened.

...That lasted a whole two minutes before the fire alarm went off.

I almost peed myself I was laughing so hard. Of course, the fire alarm would go off. Best part? Nobody moved. All the people in the audience turned to the two of us working and starting shouting "SHUT THE DOORS!" The other girl and I were completely taken aback and I was afriad we were getting close to mob mentality. I mean the ENTIRE audience was yelling at us. All we could do is shrug because it wasn't the doors causing the alarms to go off.

Well, it so happens that the brand new director of SOAS was at this concert and he soon was on his feet saying "We have to evacuate the building. People, please evacuate the building."

It probably took us 30 minutes to get everyone out. And of course, I had people yelling at me for that too.
"Please, ma'am, this is not a drill. I have to ask you to get up out of the seat and evacuate the building."
"Don't bully me. Why are you picking on me?"
"I'm not picking on you, I'm asking everyone to leave the building."
"You didn't ask that man over there. Don't think I didn't see that!"
"Ma'am, I haven't made my way over there yet. I'm trying to get everyone out of the building!"

So another 15 or so minutes were spent outside while the firemen showed up. Turns out nothign was wrong, and we had to bolt back down to the auditorium before the mod rushed in.

We didn't make it.

There were already people in seats and we once again had to go through the trouble of getting everyone in. After another 10-15 minutes of seating people, the musicians were back on stage ready to play. Just before they started, a large man blocked the door and started yelling about us not letting him in. This of course caused the entire audience and musicians to stop and stare while we had to eventually call the police to help remove this large man.

All in all, I'm not sure anything else could have possibly gone wrong. It goes without saying that the few of us working that night went out directly afterwards for a few stiff drinks.

I didn't think it was THAT bad.

2010-01-20T23:49:00.001Z

Anxiously awaiting the return of the essays that almost killed me the past few weeks, I can't help but laugh.

If only I had a cat that was so concerned with my academic endeavors.

Probably the best, but you might find better elsewhere.

2010-01-19T19:58:00.001Z

I couldn't help but laugh and snap a photo as I passed this kebab place on my way home from Archway the other day.

If you can't read it, it says: "Archway Kebab House: Probably the Best Kebab in the UK." No need to commit, because you never know-- it might not actually be the best.

I came across this sign the other day after an day trip to Greenwich with my exchange students. It unfortunately wasn't the prettiest day for a trip to Greenwich, but we still enjoyed ourselves with the Painted Hall and of course a visit to the Greenwich market. You may be surprised to learn that I did not buy anything. Yay me!

Long Weekends and Imagination

2010-01-17T22:12:00.002Z

I have successfully made it through my two long weekends. Busy with essays, school, and work, and fraught with sickness for most of the holiday season I can't even remember the last day a lie in (Sorry, I couldn't help trying to sound like a proper Brit).

This is all about to change. I recently (indulgently) bought a a novel, which is the first since the summer. I don't manage well when I'm denied my escapism. I need the chance to allow my mind to wander, to live lives I'll never experience, in order to keep my sanity.

The book I stumbled across in the store is called The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. It is the story of the Mahabharata from the point of view of Draupadi, wife of the five Pandava brothers. Having studied the Mahabharata in my last undergraduate class, I love this retelling of the story with such vividness, but without the overwhelming thickness of most myths.

Insatiably drawn to stories of strong women, I find myself soaking up this story of one of the Mahabharata's strongest and bravest characters. This retelling makes her appear more human, who has desires like all the rest, and yet she is a character to respect-- willful, strong, and capable of wielding the power and authority only women may possess.

I find myself longing for this strength and will. To endure hardships and be free from the yearning to be needed. To survive and successfully change the course of history through pure resolve. This is my escapism.

Some dead guy built this. He's probably buried around here somewhere, everyone else is.

2010-01-15T23:43:00.000Z

My essays are finally done! Woot! I can't remember the last time I've ever felt so relieved.

However, that relief didn't last too long as I've jumped right back into another busy work weekend. More students arriving to London and more exploring and sight seeing. (I love my job!) Today, we were scheduled to go visit Westminster Abbey. I went for the first time only last week with the first group that arrived and loved it. Beautiful stonework and more history than you can shake a stick at.

Having been only last week, I figure with today's group I'd just point out some of the really cool things and chill out and relax after letting the students loose. Wrong. Apparently, a guard overheard me pointing out things and approached us saying: "As a large group, you all have to stay together. You can't split up and you are in charge of them" all the while staring me down.

Um, yikes! This meant that I got thrown into being a tour guide for Westminster Abbey after only being there once before! Now, I do love learning random bits of information and therefore had that going for me. I was able to point out some of the really cool stuff, but I'm afraid most of my tour-guiding sounded much like the following:

"This is a pretty cool room. There are some dead guys in there."
"This part of the Abbey was commissioned by some king and he died before it was completed." (Generally, a safe bet to say.)
"More dead dudes."
"This room is important for some reason or another. Can't you just feel the history!?"
"Oh, here are some more famous dead dudes." "Like who?" "Um, like that guy and you know that other famous guy. I think he was a king or something"

Classic. Just classic.

Updates coming soon, so just relax

2010-01-08T17:34:00.001Z

Wheeee! Essay number one due for Monday is DONE! Well...rather, on paper. Gots to be edited (and as you can tell, my sense of the English language will make that really easi won't it?)
Sweet. With that down, I've got one to go and all weekend. Correction: some of the weekend.

At any rate, these are the reasons that I have not been good about posting. Will be back on top of my game soon, because I know you're all dying to know what I'm up to.

Cheers!

You'd think I was a hermit if you didn't know me better....or maybe you still do.

2010-01-04T12:00:00.006Z

Instead of doing the brazillion (yes that's a word. It's a quantifier related to "brazilian". Basically it as many of something that equates to how much brazilian hurts. Following? Good.) things I need to do, I decided to get my daily dose of Facebook stalking.

For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook may have noticed that I do not have very many recent photos. In fact, there are two photos of me while I was in the hostel back in September and that's it for recent photos. That might lead you to believe that I have no social life. You may be correct in your assumption, but I think I'm in denial. I swear I've had more fun than that! I just don't take photos, and if I do, they're not of me. Any scientific hypothesis would leave you to the conclusion that I either:
A.) hang out with others who also do not take photos
B.) do not hang out with anyone period
C.) have not yet sufficiently figured out Photoshop like the rest of the Facebook world so that I can make all my 3,495,239 friends think I actually have a social life, when really all I do is play videogames and eat ice cream in the confines of my house.

....I'm not bitter. Jeez.

To top it all off, the only photos I've posted on my blog have been ones of me, sitting in my room, making stupid faces. That's not helping the situation either, is it? Hmm. What a predicament.

Update: The sad thing about this post is that I thought it would be funny to do a very badly photoshopped photo of me and a celebrity, but I couldn't even figure out how to do a bad one. Shut up! Sometimes it's ok for awesome people to fail! SOMETIMES!

Official New Years Post

2010-01-03T17:54:00.001Z

I know this is two days late, but you know what? Shut up!
I bet you want to know what a crazy London New Years Eve I had? I am happy to report that this NYE was closer to the "Crazy Cool" side of the spectrum, rather than the "Sadly Pathetic" side that my holidays tend to hover.

This might go without saying, but bars in London band together on NYE and decide to charge an arm and a leg just for entry because they know they can. SJF and I researched trying to find a bar that wasn't too expensive that still sounded like fun. Finally, we agreed that Camden Town would be our best bet. We could probably find lots of free bars there, and then could just spend our money on drinks. Brilliant!

We got to Camden Town fairly early and made our first stop at a dive bar. The bar was full of what Americans tend to think of when you say "Punk London." Crazy hair, outfits straight out of the 80s, women who dressed like men and men who dressed like women. It was pretty rocking. We mingled there for a bit and then we made our way down the line of bars to find "the one."

By about 9:30 or 10:00, you should probably find a good pub and stick with it if you haven't bought tickets. It gets crowded fast and you need to stake good territory. We played Goldilocks walking up and down the line of pubs: "This one is too crowded." "This one is too empty." "This one has too many sketchy people in it." "This one looks too posh."

Finally we found the perfect place and nestled up to the bar. We soon found a good chillin corner and enjoyed our drinks. After the first round, SJF went back to the bar to get the second and apparently the bar got full quick or SJF has no bar skills because it took him forever to get another drink. In the meantime, I'm chilling by myself in a corner, trying not to be stepped on by this giant man that had taken a place near me. I look across a table to my right and there is a woman all dressed up sitting by herself. She seemed to be entertained, but I kept thinking, "why would a woman come to a bar by herself. That's lame." Then I realized that I too was standing there alone, so I figured she probably had some guy buying a drink for her too. I would have started a conversation with her, but I would have had to move around the table and lose my prime corner spot. So I stayed put. Soon enough, a man showed up with a couple drinks for him and her and I still waited.

SJF finally showed up and on his way back to me, he saw the guy who had brought the woman a drink and chatted him up like they were old buddies. He convinced both of them to come over and join us in the corner. It turns out SJF had been stuck at the bar next to this same guy and they had chatted.

These two turned out to be really fun and we spent the rest of the night drinking, chatting and dancing with this other couple. Soon enough we found ourselves counting down.

2010, baby!

I think I'm allergic to 2010

2010-01-02T18:21:00.002Z

I've been sick with a really sore throat for about two weeks, and this morning I woke up and my sore throat is almost gone. Sweeet! I'm finally getting better.

That was until I looked in the mirror. For some reason I had completely broken out in hives. Everywhere. I have no idea why either. I've had hives once before, popped some Benadryl pills and was fine within a half an hour. Today, I've taken just about every antihistamine possible, and it's only gotten worse.

I can't figure out what the hell could have caused this, so I'm certain that the year 2010 has caused this. 2010 and I are now SO fighting.

P.S. I promise to write a real New Years post tomorrow, when I don't look I've got deadly skin disease.

Happy Offical 100th Post to me!

2009-12-29T17:22:00.001Z

This time I'm not lying and therefore I had to make an even uglier party hat for the occasion! Wow, can you believe I'm actually 100 posts old? I can't. Feels like yesterday I was talking my first steps as a blogger. *Sigh* How time flies.

In other news, I am Mr. Gadget. My wonderful mother sent me a package and in that package was an umbrella. But not a crap umbrella like the ones I've been buying. No, this my friends is an awesome umbrella. It looks like a normal umbrella, but it opens with the touch of a button. Sure, plenty of people have umbrellas that open with the touch of a button, but I bet they don't open as dramatically as mine.

Unsurprisingly, it was raining today when I got my umbrella in the mail so I got to try it out right away. When I came out of a store, I would push my button, and instead of just opening, this umbrella would BAM! OPEN! Scared the crap out of me the first time. After that, I rather enjoyed it, saying each time before it opened, "GO GO GADGET UMBRELLA!" then, BAM! Umbrella.

So THAT's what being productive feels like

2009-12-28T22:57:00.001Z

I've been deadly sick (and NO I'm not being dramatic) and it was Christmas, so my productivity levels sunk to all-time lows this past week. I was starting to really despair.

Then today, I kicked butt!! I totally karate chopped my books and said "Tell me what you know, or this will be your last library check-out!" Most of my books squealed. A few of them took some convincing. I'm not going to say I used torture, but maybe my tactics involved lemon juice and a lighter, maybe they didn't.

Ok, so I didn't get my books to talk to me, but I did get a good amount of work done. I finish a book, Modernity at Large by Arjun Appadurai, which is a fairly dense treatise on modernity and the effects of deterritorialization (globalization) on cultural identity. It was fascinating! (You think that was sarcasm? Unfortunately not. I did really enjoy the book.)

Now: I have only this small stack of books to finish before I can start writing my two essays that are due two weeks from today.

I apparently don't take much convincing

2009-12-26T15:31:00.001Z

Happy Boxing Day! (Whatever the hell that means other than crazy sales and the thought of crowds larger than Aunt Sally's backside that have kept me inside.)

Now that Christmas is over it's time for some quick updates!

First: Admire my craftmanship! ADMIRE!!!

That is me modeling the scarf that I finally finished in time for SJF's Christmas present. I actually think it looks better on me, but who's judging? (Or rather, it would look better on me if I wasn't making that stupid face. sheesh!)

Second: For those of you who might have read my recent post about "finding my old crazy self?" Yeah, well that didn't take long. I did go out that night and danced my heart out. I chatted with just about everyone in the bar and was a hit! I looked good, people loved me, the night rocked.

And finally, just in case my life wasn't crazy enough. I had the most unforgettable Christmas Eve ever. SJF and I went out shopping to pick up some last minute gifts from him and before we ate lunch, we thought we'd celebrate Christmas with a bottle of champagne. We found a nice bar and had a real choice spot in a corner all to ourselves. We were enjoying ourselves, but before I knew what was going on, we were talking to the bartenders and a few other customers. Then out of nowhere, everyone got in the Christmas spirit and started buying shots for all of us talking (including the bartenders). We did a few rounds and then my cousin showed up. She joined in the fun and the rounds kept coming. We left the bar at around 5:00 in the evening and already being pretty tippsy, the three of us (my cousin, SJF and I) decided it would be a great idea to go to another bar. So by 6:00, or 6:30 I was thoroughly and accidentally wasted. That didn't stop us, as we met up with my cousin's boyfriend and went to another bar.

That was honestly the most spontaneous Christmas Eve ever, but I think that's just how the Brits do it. :)

I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas! What did Santa bring you!?

Blogger totally made me into a liar

2009-12-25T19:24:00.000Z

Wow. I'm sorry. Blogger told me I had posted 100 posts and I posted a really fun picture of me in probably the ugliest party hat I've ever seen.

Then I checked, and it turns out I forgot some drafts I had started and never finished. I'm closer to 97 posts. That is nothing worthy of an ugly party hat and that makes me sad.

I'm sorry for getting you excited. I really hope you hadn't already gotten out your ugly party hat before I had to break the bad news.

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-25T19:12:00.005Z

Merry Christmas from your favorite blogger...or at the very least the

only blogger that can 'wow' you with the most horrid Paint skills

this side of Texas.

To keep you in the Christmas spirit, I took some pictures of Oxford street on Christmas day.

(The creepy window at Selfridges)

I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas!

OH! And one more thing before I go. It's time to switch hats and once again show off my awesome Paint skills:

That's right! I've posted 100 posts now. Wheee!

It's like a old-timey Western in my head

2009-12-23T00:01:00.001Z

The scene: Ghost town in the middle of a desert. A tumble weed tumbles through the shot (cause that's what tumble weeds do). It's a show down between this new boring-self I've developed and my old fun, exciting, spontaneous self.
"Listen kid, this town ain't big enough for the both of us." My two egos stare each other down and all of a sudden they draw!
However, no one dies, because my egos (being my egos) are pussies and don't know how to use guns.

Ok, so it's not going to work that easily, but man something's got to be done! I'm becoming such a boring person. My blog posts are almost non-existent and when I do post, they're lame. I don't talk to random people anymore when I'm out. I almost never venture out of my room if it weren't for SJF. I'm pretty sure I'm boring the piss out of SJF who is one of the most gregarious people I know. And, I haven't gotten excited about anything in a long time.

What is up with this?! Huh?!

I've got to make a change for the better and soon, otherwise I'm going to suffocate myself with my own boringness. (Not actually sure if that's possible, but I'm going to pretend it is.)

I need a step-by-step plan to beat the boring blues. Here's what I propose:

Step 1:
Tomorrow, I'm going out. I'm going to get into the closest thing to "going-out" clothes that I own, do up my hair, and zip up those boots. I'm going to rule this town! I'm going to cut loose, talk to people, and dance my damn heart out, baby! (For those of you who might find yourself concerned, SJF is going out with me. I won't be 'cutting loose' alone. But thanks for caring, that's really sweet.)

Step 2:
Recover from said night. Ok ok, so that's not really a "step" per se, because recovering is actually a pretty boring thing to do. But whatevs, I am pretty sure I'll need recovery time.

Step 3:
The next time I start to feel overwhelmed by work, just take a deep breath, and make a to-do list, prioritizing everything. THEN STAB THAT LIST IN THE FACE!

Step 4:
Talk to strange people. And by "strange people" I mean both people that I find slightly off and odd, and strangers. I have had so many fun conversations with strangers that I don't want to miss out. In fact, that's how I met SJF, by starting a random conversation and enjoying myself, and apparently that's what attracted him to me.

Step 5:
Laugh more often. When I'm stressed out, actually happy, upset, I need to just laugh. Basically because I love the look on people's faces when you start crying and it all of a sudden morphs into a crazy-person laugh.

Step 6:
I don't care for the number 6 so I'm going to skip this step.

Step 7:
Be spontaneous. Not sure if this can qualify as a step either, because by forcing myself to be spontaneous, I loose the whole spontaneity thing. But I should start seeing things and just doing them. And, no, not in a dirty way...although I may think about that one. If I come across a neat looking cafe, just go inside. If I see an opportunity, TAKE IT!

I was totally planning on doing a whole 12 step program, but then I got lazy. I think 7 steps is plenty. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to my knitting.

(What!?! I said I was starting tomorrow!)

Bah Humbug

2009-12-20T16:51:00.000Z

As seems to be the way of things, I'm now on Christmas holidays from lectures and I'm sick. Merry Christmas to me from Mother Nature!

Yesterday, I thought I'd forget the sickness and go do a little holiday window shopping to get into the spirit. I wanted to go out to the Covent Garden area, which is on the other end of Oxford St from me. It would probably be about a 40-45 minute walk, but it was so cold and I felt like shit, so I figured I'd take the bus. An hour later and I had made it about four stops down Oxford St. Fed up, I hopped off the bus to walk the rest of the way and found myself struggling up-stream against the flow of Christmas shoppers. I literally have bruises on both of my shoulders from shoving my way through the crowd that for some reason all seemed to be going the opposite direction.

All that for some window shopping. No wonder I feel worse today!

BAH HUMBUG!

No one will believe me but I just have to share

2009-12-19T14:07:00.002Z

SJF and I were supposed to have a nice dress up date last night, but he called and cancelled. His boss was making him work until midnight in order to finish a deadline. Bummed out, I spent my evening chilling, listening to Christmas music. Then at midnight, I get a call from SJF. He said "work sucked and I need to let out some frustration. Let's go out. It's a Friday night, let's go dancing." Figuring I had nothing better to do, and it was a Friday night in London, I agreed.

SJF met me at my place and we set out in search of the closest club. We made it a few blocks to Oxford Street and we realized that it was so late that we would probably have a hard time getting in anywhere, AND it was flipping freezing outside. That is when we came across The Quebec City a pub that still seemed to be hopping. So we went inside. It was warm, it was buzzing, there was a dance floor downstairs. We were all set.

While we stood at the bar waiting for drinks, I started to get this really strong feeling that I shouldn't be there. Investigating, I began surveying the scene. There were alot of old men...and they were all standing really close to each other.

Great. We had made it to a gay bar. SJF still hadn't gotten us drinks and I tried to convince him to go seeing as the looks I got from the other patrons was one of "what is that thing doing here." SJF called me close-minded and said why can't we have fun at a gay bar. It's an experience. Fair enough. We get some drinks, head down to the dance floor and just enjoy ourselves.

About 30 minutes into dancing, this older man walks my direction, while looking SJF up and down on the way. Once the man approaches he says "My, you look very beautiful tonight." I thank him. Who doesn't like compliments from gays who actually have a sense of style? He then made a bit of small talk about Christmas.

Then SJF, who had gone off dancing his "sexy" dance moves, had come back my direction and yet again this old man pretty much eye-fucked SJF. I thought it was quite amusing and I went to tell SJF that he's got an admirer but it was so loud in the pub, that I had to lean in real close to tell him in his ear. SJF laughs, kisses me, and then whips out some more dances moves. I stand back once again (as I wasn't as much in the dancing mood) and now the old man comes up to me to say "I got the answer. No need to tell this old man."

I laugh and smile at the guy mouthing "Sorry." The man then turns back towards the dance floor for another few seconds before once more coming up to me. At the point, he started talking and all I could get from it was the following bits:

"I'm not afraid to fight...I have 4.2 million....I don't need any girl to come between me and a little Asian asshole...I'll fight...4.2. million...shouldn't be here..."

Completely taken aback by this, I almost just said "no need to fight, take him!" Then I remember that SJF in fact smaller than me and that would be a really bad idea. So, thankfully the man used my shock to take his leave, and I simply grabbed SJF's arm and said "alright, we're leaving." SJF, being the dance-aholic that he is, gave me some flak but once he saw the look on my face we left and just went home.

Yes, I swear to god, this story is true. I got threatened by a rich, old, gay guy because he wanted to rape my boyfriend's "little Asian asshole." You just can't make this shit up!

You can't make this stuff up....oh wait, yeah I did.

2009-12-14T18:37:00.000Z

I'm pretty sure I bombed that test. Damn. Would have been nice to have a good grade, but whatcha gonna do?

My one claim to fame for the test: I made up a word and it turned out to be right. I had no idea what "Where" was and just threw together some letters that looked pretty good and apparently I nailed it right on the button. Major win for Boots.

Oh well, at least it's over and that's a huge relief. It might as well be vacation already. I still have the rest of the week and classes, but eh, who cares. :)

This is just not funny anymore

2009-12-04T17:53:00.001Z

Umbrella number 7 has died on me. Surprise, surprise. This time it broke, I did not lose it.
I almost lost it at the bar the night before, but triumphantly remembered it before I got too far down the street...only for it to break the next time I opened it.

I'm considering buying stock in umbrellas.

Boots is going back in time and reliving her freshman days, y'all!

2009-12-02T22:11:00.000Z

That's right! I just paid the deposit on my student housing and am moving back into a dorm next week.

I know, totally out of left field, but I think it's going to be a great thing for me. I'll be in town, and when I say in town, I mean IN town. I'll be living near Marble Arch Tube stop, which is only a couple minutes walk from Oxford circus and Hyde Park. I'm going to be living in style and by style I mean off Easy-Mac once again in true dorm fashion. No, actually that's not true either, because I'm pretty certain you can't find Easy-Mac out here. You can't even find Spaghetti-Os out here. No joke. Heinz makes a version of them, and they make me want to vomit. You're welcome for the visual by the way.

So why am I moving back into the dorms? First off, because it's closer and in town. Second, because I'll have a desk and can study in my room! Fourthly (I skipped 'thirdly' on purpose because I don't care for the number 3 (I lied, I just forgot I hadn't said 'thirdly' and didn't want to make it look like a mistake(and now I've probably REALLY confused you with my use of parentheses))) (back to the point) because I can act like a freshman again and run around the halls partying and doing stupid shit.

No, mom. I promise I'll be responsible and do my work. (Yeah, right.) Mom, you were totally not supposed to read that small aside just like you're not supposed to read the next one, so look away....NOW... (jeez. Moms. Always on your case).

Anywho...this should be fun, yeah?!

Oh memories:

The moment you've all been waiting for, or at least I'm going to pretend you're interested...

2009-11-29T18:54:00.004Z

Alright guys, you are in soooo much trouble. WHY didn't anyone stop me?

Remember that whole "I'm not good at cooking" thing that tends to come up in my conversations? If so, why didn't anyone say something when I mentioned I would be throwing a Thanksgiving Day Party?!

I am happy to report that the party was huge success, but it did come dangerously close to disaster. It started when I tried to make spanakopita, which is a dish my family would always have on Thanksgiving. Its fairly easy to make, however when I went to put it in the oven, I accidentally put the oven on broil rather than cook. So the top burnt and the bottom wasn't cooked. Awesome.

Then I found myself just staring at the turkey. I had no idea what to do with it. I've never cooked a turkey before and can I just say that an uncooked turkey is about the ugliest thing on this planet? Thankfully, SJF knew what to do and demonstrating that he's not always a jerkface he showed up and helped me make the turkey. Who am I kidding? By "help me" I meant, "he cooked the turkey while I stood in the door way of the kitchen drinking a beer and 'supervising.'"

Despite my poor cooking skills and much to my relief, everyone seemed to love the food. My suspicion is that the massive pile of empty alcohol bottles that was quickly growing over the course of the evening had something to do with the fact that no one seemed to notice how bad my food was.

Best part of the whole day? The Wall O' Hand Turkeys.

Everyone, or almost everyone, drew a hand turkey in true American fashion.

Happy Thanksgiving Day!

2009-11-26T20:31:00.001Z

Things I am thankful for...

...that I don't breathe really loudly through my nose. Otherwise, I'd drive myself crazy.

...that my downstairs neighbors don't have loud sex every night that keeps me awake, mostly out of jealousy.

...that my downstairs neighbors aren't vampires. Like real vampires, not the pussy vampires that glitter and are full of teenage angst about whether they should suck your blood or not. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm thankful they're not that kind of vampire either.

...that I can read, so when I see signs like "Push" or "Pull," I know what they mean and I don't look like an idiot trying to open a door.

...that I am talented enough at bullshitting that I can at least successfully convince people I'm right in an argument even though I know I'm probably dead wrong.

...that I'm awesome.

...that I don't have three legs and not because having three legs would cause people to look at you funny, but because you'd have to have all your pants specially tailored. I just don't have the patience for that.

...the cup of hot chocolate I'm currently drinking which is the only thing keeping me from turning into a giant block of ice.

...that I've completed any immediate homework that needs to be done this weekend, so I won't feel so bad when I drink myself stupid at my Thanksgiving party on Saturday.

...that I'm a terrible cook, which gives me an excuse to sit back while other people cook. "Listen, trust me, you don't want me to cook that. It will taste so much better if you cook it. And by "better," I mean not burnt."

...that my tiny room is at least big enough for my bed so that I can sleep lying down.

...that I don't have very good looking legs because then it's not so bad if I don't wear high heels to show off my legs and then get blisters and permanent foot-bone damage from walking on my toes all day.

...the interwebs, without which I would not have LOL cats and internet videos to distract me from more important (yet boring) things I should be doing instead.

AND OF COURSE:
...all my wonderful family, friends, and readers who really do make every day worth living. I love you all and Thank You! (shukran)

Happy Thanksgiving!

What are you thankful for?

The time my brain stopped working

2009-11-25T15:44:00.000Z

Do you ever have one of those moments when you're just cruising on your own awesomeness and then reality hits?

That was my morning. I woke up early and started cranking out some work. I read, I listened to some music and I organized myself. I had an Arabic study group to attend this morning, so I was trying my best to get stuff done before I had to head out for the session.

And man, I was cruising. I was starting to feel so good about myself. It was only 10:10am and I had to leave at 10:30 in order to get to the session which started at 11:00....um....oh shit. It started at 10!

It was in that one moment that my awesomeness came tumbling down (temporarily of course). That split second when your heart stops for a second because you realized you just fucked up. It's like those dreams where you're always late to whatever it is you needed to get to because you just didn't realize the time until you looked at a clock and figure out you're hours late.

Ok, so maybe I'm exaggerating. It was only a study group, and I still made it in time to get some stuff done. However, that lapse in awesomeness threw me off for the rest of the day. (Which is, of course, the reason I'm posting a useless blog post rather than doing some work.)

I've been a naughty blogger

2009-11-23T16:23:00.001Z

I'm sorry. I know. I haven't been good about writing recently, but can you blame me? After 4 hours of Arabic lectures today my brain is fried. Especially since the lectures contained information about how our mid-term exam (which only 3 weeks away) will be organized. Oh man, I'm fucked. Time to put my nose to the grind!

Yet, by the time I got home, instead of grabbing the Arabic textbook, I grab the computer. I mean, it's way more fun to write blogs or plan for a party than to review Arabic. Psht.

I'm actually really looking forward to this weekend. I'm throwing a Thanksgiving Day party! It should be really fun, but mostly because I cannot wait for an excuse to eat and drink myself stupid. However, I kind of forget what a big deal it is to host a party. Don't get me wrong, it's loads of fun, but it's nerve-wrecking. This will be my first London party I've hosted. What if no one shows up? What if who does show up hates it? I'll ruin my party throwing reputation and after last years Halloween Party, I've actually got a party throwing reputation whether you believe it or not.

I'm pretty sure that if there's enough alcohol, people will love it...or at least not remember whether they liked it or not. ;)

Two months, 6 umbrellas and counting

2009-11-21T22:20:00.001Z

Alright, so I was warned-- it rains here. Regardless, I'm still going to bitch. Really, it's not the rain I have an issue with, it's the umbrellas. When I first moved, the weather was pretty nice, and about two weeks in, it starting raining. So, I figure it was time to go buy myself an umbrella and got one. I used it successfully that day, and by the time I got home, I realized I no longer had my umbrella.

This has been a reoccurring theme thus far. I buy an umbrella and loose it. Normally when it rains, it sprinkles, and if I'm caught without an umbrella, it's not really the end of the world. However, last week, we had some really crazy weather. It was pouring and extremely windy. I had a date that afternoon and after getting all dressed up, realized I could not find my umbrella. Not uncommon, so I stopped on my way to the tube station to pick up a new one. I got to town early and did some shopping before meeting up with SJF. By the time I was done shopping, I realized I had no idea where I was and had to be at the date in 10 minutes. I ran out to the street trying to find a bus or a tube station and, yes you guessed it, by the time I realized I was getting rained on, I also realized I no longer had an umbrella. So, lost, and drenched, I had to walk several streets before figuring out that I was only three or so blocks away from the date, and couldn't be bothered to grab a bus. That meant walking in the rain. So I stopped at the first store along the way (after about another block in the pouring rain), and bought umbrella number two for the day. I stepped outside, opened it up, and the wind immediately broke it. No joke. I didn't even have time to stand underneath it. Mother Fucker. So I gave up and just showed up at my date looking like a drowned rat. It was hot.

Can someone please explain why people this stupid get to be in charge of my money?

2009-11-19T21:27:00.000Z

Two months after opening my first UK bank account and I finally have a bank card and PIN. Absolutely ridiculous, but at least this whole chapter of my move is over.

I do need to share that on the highly confidential letter that arrived today is this quote:

"DO WE HAVE YOUR RIGHT ADDRESS AND POSTAL CODE?
IF NOT PLEASE TELL US. REMEMBER TO QUOTE YOUR CARD(S) NUMBER"

Right. Because if you don't have my address right, I'll somehow magically get this letter and read that message. Friggin morons.

Holy Crap, Lions!

2009-11-16T23:02:00.002Z

It recently occurred to me that this time, a year ago, I was on my first real adventure in Kenya. Being a bit of a sentimental mush-ball, I've spent the past few days reflecting. It was that trip that opened my eyes to the world and solidly set me on my current path.

For me, the urge to travel was more than a desire see world, it was the need to experience the world. I had assumed that this experience was only possible by traveling to the ends of the earth and visiting places out of the ordinary. Africa called to me. She whispered my name in my thoughts and dreams, promising the experience I sought. A friend once lent me a book with the intention of scaring me away from any further thoughts about Africa. The book was Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux, and the second I finished it, I knew I had to go. Theroux is a great writer and he had a real life experience while traveling from Cairo to Cape Town. He escaped being shot at, got sick, and met hundreds of interesting people. Everything that my friend was convinced would scare me only egged me on towards my own adventure. A year later, I finally had my chance to travel to Africa.

This day, last year, I was visiting Lake Borgoria and Lake Nakuru and saw rhinos, hyenas, baboons, and tree-climbing lions.

This conversation would have been completely different if we were talking about Chuck Norris

2009-11-15T18:02:00.001Z

Me: Whatcha thinking about?
SJF:... Do you think Bruce Lee would survive in prison?
Me: Of course, it's Bruce Lee.
SJF: Yeah, but he's such a little guy, what if a whole bunch of inmates wanted to make him their bitch? How many inmates do you think it would take to bring him down?
Me: I don't know, he wouldn't have much space for full-on kung fu in a jail cell, but he does have the one-inch punch.
SJF: 17, 17 could do it.
Me: Wait, why would Bruce Lee be in prison anyway?

Just another day in the life

2009-11-12T21:28:00.000Z

I'm afraid I do not have much to write about today. I did get to meet up with a friend from the States who was back in London for a quick trip. We had a lovely lunch and it was great to catch up. After lunch, I was supposed to meet up with SJF, however he canceled...for the second time...in two days. Of course he had reasons, but that just seems a little ridiculous to me.

That is the story of my life, especially my love life. In fact, I'm quite pleased I got him to hang out with me a few times! That was pretty good on my part. I kept the crazy hidden for at least a couple days. Maybe it's better this way, because I certainly couldn't have kept it hidden for much longer.

On another note, on my way to my dance class last night, I came across this grafitti on a small side street and found it quite appropriate being that it was Veteran's Day.

You are sooooo not helping

2009-11-09T22:46:00.000Z

Official Day One of Reading Week and I feel like I accomplished nothing. The goal was to wake up nice and early, get showered and dressed and then make my good self over to the SOAS library to study all day until a concert on campus at 7:00.

By the time I rolled out of bed and made my way out the door, it was about 1:00. Instead of heading straight to the library, I made a quick detour to the local shopping mall. Shut up! I needed new jeans. I own nothing that fits and doesn't have a hole in the crotch.

New jeans in hand and I finally got to the library roughly around 2:00. I did get some reading done, but not too much before I decided it was dinner time and I needed a break. I did get a little more done before heading to the concert which turned out to be alright, but not as good as Friday night's.

Now, I'm home and what do I do? Decide that it's a good idea to write to my readers rather than get more reading done. Fantastic. You better have enjoyed that story, otherwise this was a total waste of time. *Menacing voice while shaking fist in your direction* Enjoy it!

A tiny slice of heaven in amoungst the chaos of life

2009-11-08T22:49:00.003Z

Friday night found me busy with class and one of the best evenings I've had in a while. After class I went to a dinner party with a friends who are fellow ethnomusicologists and we enjoyed a delicious meal of East African Fish Stew prepared by our host.

After dinner we went to a club called Passing Clouds for a concert. The concert featured the kora teacher from SOAS, Kadialy Kouyate. When we arrived a djembe group, which I unfortunately did not get the name of, was performing and it was spectacular. The group was tight and the drums sent rhythms pulsing through the venue. Losing my sense of self within the sound, I felt nothing but joy. Cliche, sure, but there is just something about drums that get my emotions going. There is so much passion in sound and rhythm.

I enjoyed the company of friends and great musicians, until I decided to finally head home at around 1:30 knowing that catching a night bus would take me roughly an hour to get home. Pulling a pure Alex-move, I hopped on the wrong bus and ended up, oddly enough, at the end of the road where the mbira concert was only the night before, which as you might have guessed, was not home. I then had to wait for 30 minutes before the next night bus made it my direction. I was lucky enough to find a bus to take me pretty much to my stop, but certainly not directly. After roughly an hour bus ride, I had only one more short bus to catch before finally stumbling home. So leaving the concert at 1:30 (which was early by the way) I did not arrive at my door step until after 3:30. The trip should have taken me roughly 20 minutes if I had caught the right bus. I know what you're thinking: Well played.
Indeed.

Slowly approaching 2 months in London, and I'm still busy sight seeing. Yesterday, I found myself in Regent's park, which is my new favorite spot in this city. It is a tiny slice of heaven for this nature-freak/Mainer-at-heart. I love the city, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I just need to get away. Thankfully, I now know I have Regent's park. You can hear birds singing! What a concept! There are open fields as well as tiny forest-like hideaways. It is a beautiful park, especially this time of year.

Now...it's the nose to the grind for Reading Week. I have a week off from lectures and a To-Do list a mile long. Here we go.

Remember, Remember the 5th of November

2009-11-05T23:40:00.001Z

Today is Guy Fawkes day, a day of fireworks and bonfires, and I am pretty sure I did not have a typical holiday.

Today in a class, a friend told me about an mbira (a thumb piano from East Africa, particularly from Zimbabwe) concert going on in town that she might be playing at. Figuring that I had nothing better to do after class, a few of us head out to this concert. We were told it was at a bar called the George and once we finally stumbled upon the bar, which was out in the middle of nowhere, we discovered it was all boarded up. We could hear something going on inside and finally found an entrance. We forced ourselves through and discovered it was no longer a functional bar but a squatter's house.

Mbira music was wafting our direction and following it, we ended up in the garden out back. The garden was small and very Secret-Garden-esk with a bonfire in the middle and a few mbira players huddled around the fire. As the night worn on, more mbira players showed up, roughly 10 or so, and I enjoyed my Guy Fawkes day huddled around a fire in a defunct bar's garden listening to mbira music and watching local fireworks. You can't ask for a more beautiful way to spend an evening.

I ended up leaving a bit early as things were just starting to finally move inside into a slightly more formal concert setting, but I have a big weekend in front of me.

Tomorrow, it's up early to attend a Middle East and Central Asia Music Forum until my Middle Eastern Music lecture in the afternoon. After the lecture, it's off to a dinner party with some friends and then to another African music concert. Saturday it's another early morning to see a Christmas parade (please don't ask me... it was SJF's idea) and then a good-bye party for an acquaintance that night. Finally, Sunday is apparently off to Greenwich to experience the weekend market.

Thank god next week is reading week.

Wednesday Adams? Clockwork Orange? Plain and simple freak?

2009-10-31T12:19:00.001Z

Happy Halloween!

Normally, Halloween is my favorite holiday. Getting dressed up in funny costumes and stuffing your face with candy is my idea of a fun evening. However, the Brits do not make a big deal of out of Halloween and I'm surprised how much fun that sucks out of the holiday. No decorations, no anticipation. Halloween is just another day.

Thank god for CouchSurfing! Couchsurfing is full of international people and therefore gets to celebrate holidays whether the country cares or not. Therefore, last night I got a message from a local couchsurfer asking if I was going to a Halloween party. I said sure since I had no plans for tonight.

Then I got a message back from her at 5:30 saying, "Great! I'll see you in a bit." Shit. The party was later that evening and I was still at the school. I decided I'd have enough time to book it home and attempt to throw together a costume. This is what I came up with.

Scary huh? I was supposed to be a doll... Not sure it worked. Maybe the stripy tights make it better?

Yeah, I know. I ended up something between Wednesday Adams, Clockwork Orange, and a goth rag doll. Whatever.

The best part? I realized after getting all makeup'd and dressed that I'd have to make it across town towards the Thames for the party. Which meant riding a bus, and getting two Tube lines. I actually almost decided not going because of this, and then said "what the hell.?! It's Halloween!" Plus, I seem to get some strange satisfaction when people look at me like I'm insane. It's just how I roll.

So I grabbed my coat and made my way to the bus stop. I get on the bus and the few people don't even look at me. Good, off to a good start. I get to the Tube station and still no one does a double take. What the hell? Now I'm starting to get pissed. LOOK AT ME! I'M DRESSED UP IN A FUCKING DOLL COSTUME! ISN'T THAT WEIRD?!

No. Apparently not. And it's not even like the Tube was overwhelmed with other party goers. In the hour it took me on the tube, I only saw one other person in costume (excuse me: "fancy dress") and she wasn't even on the train, just running through the station.

So, then why was nobody looking at me like I was weird? Because I live in London. London is full of freaks everyday. I'm going to have to do alot better than a cracked up Clockwork Orange to get any attention around here.
This is what we call "goals."

Angry Dance Therapy

2009-10-29T19:35:00.001Z

I think I really need to work on my anger management. (Shut up. I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.) I'm half Greek and half Irish, which gives me the drinking habits of both and the anger management issues of both. Therefore, I usually have something to blame.

That being said, I'm sure there is still improvement that can be made.

For example, yesterday (my day off), I went into school for a meeting I was asked to set up. The meeting lasted all of 1 minute and I have no idea why they couldn't just tell me that information when I went to that office in the first place and had to arrange the meeting. At any rate, I figured I'd make getting out of the house worth it and went to a coffee shop nearby. There is generally a eat-in/take-out price difference. It's cheaper to take food or coffee out, but I was in the mood to sit down and asked for a coffee for eat-in. The coffee was advertised as one price £1.50.

I sat down, enjoyed my coffee, and once I finished, I went inside to pay. I had pulled out exactly £1.50 and then the young man behind the counter said £1.80, which is pretty normal for eat-in vs. take-out price. So, I grab some extra change and give it to an older man who had now taken his place at the counter. He looked at the change and then looked expectantly back at me. I didn't make a move because I was still actually waiting for change back and then he said "it's £2.10." This man was trying to jip me! The eat-in/take-out price is never much more than 10 or 20p for a coffee. So I asked if it was so different, why wasn't there a price written on the board. And at that point the man began to RAIL on me. He had some thick, probably Turkish, accent too which made being yelled at even worse! He told me all about how this was still cheaper than Starbucks, and it's a better experience, and honestly I don't remember half the things he was yelling about because I was so shocked that I was getting yelled at!

Now: Here's the part were we indentify the correct and incorrect ways to manage my raising anger.

The Correct Response:
I should have handed over the extra change, explained calmly that it was a rip off and he should never expect my patronage in his establishment again, especially after such rude treatment of a customer. At which point, I should have left the building and properly satisfied my building anger by performing my version of an angry dance.

My Actual Response:
I got so flustered that I could not even count my change so I simply shouted "Fine! Then just take everything I have!!" and proceeded to throw all the change I had in my hand at him, which was probably 30 or 40p too much. And then I left the shop on the verge of tears. I could feel the familiar sensation of my right fist itching to punch something and honestly had to sit down on the side of the street and calm myself down before I punched the next person who looked at me funny.

And no, I'm not exaggerating. All that really happened. I'm such a loser.

For the future: Remember that angry dances are therapeutic and don't involve punching someone. Although punching someone can be therapeutic too. Hmmmm.

A German and a Somalian walk into a bar...

2009-10-27T20:24:00.001Z

Yesterday I went to the Comedy Store's King Gong competition. It was a tame version of the 70s Gong Show.

Instead of fat women dancing, there were terrible comedians. It was a little different in that the audience was in control. Three members of the audience were given cards and once all three cards were in the air, the comedian was gonged off stage. Some of the worst comedians were a couple of old Irishmen who I'm pretty sure were on crack. I think the shortest time for the evening was 24 seconds before the comedian got gonged. But the average for the evening was less than a minute. The audience was brutal!

I think my favorite for the evening was an older Indian man. He only really had enough time to get up there and say in a very funny Indian accent "Who likes the spices? Don't eat them. They are not good for you." By then, two of the cards were in the air and he started to walk off all disappointed. It took some convincing to get him back on stage, but once he did, he only repeat himself and quickly saw the third card go up. You kind of felt bad for him.

Actually, the comedians weren't all bad. After two hours, only four had made it the whole 5 minutes without being gonged. Of those four, the final two were a Somalian and German.

And get this, the German won! Who would of figured that the Germans have a sense of humor!?

(Sorry. I couldn't find just the end bit on Youtube, but this whole clip is hysterical. Cracks me up everytime.)

I am convinced London has it out for me

2009-10-25T20:13:00.002Z

No joke. London is like a city from a scary movie, where you can visit but you can never leave.

I had enthusiastically planned a day out of the city, and was going to the New Forest. I was just going to spend a day wandering the forests breathing the forest air and enjoy the fall foliage. Being a Sunday, I had checked bus schedules and made sure that I could get everywhere I needed to go. I was going to catch a 7:15am bus out of Victoria Station in London to Southampton. From Southampton, I was going to grab a shorter bus at 10:05 to New Forest. The short bus from Southampton to New Forest was very limited and only ran every 2 hours.

I left the house at 6:00, with plenty of time to get to Victoria Station. I grabbed the bus at the end of the road and headed toward the closest Tube station. Lo and behold, it's Sunday and the tube station doesn't open until 7:00. The bus wasn't going to get me to Victoria Station fast enough. So I thought I would take the bus to the closest tube station to Victoria as I could get by 7:00 when they'd open. Then I would try to bust ass and make the 7:15 bus.

The tube station that I picked, happened to be one that is closed for the foreseeable future for repairs. Fantastic. I resigned myself to the fact that I had missed the 7:15 bus and had decided to try the train station. Trains are generally faster, so maybe I could find something that would get me to Southampton before 10:00.

When I got to the train station, I found out the next train would arrive in Southampton just after 10:00. In that case, I decided that I would just take a cheaper coach and try to catch the 12:05 bus to New Forest. I had to walk about five minutes to get to the coach station and by the time I got there, the next bus would arrive in Southampton at 11:47. Buses are almost always late, so I was pretty sure I'd miss the 12:05 bus to New Forest.

So I went back to the train station (it was only just past 8:00 now) to see if I could catch a train to Southampton before noon. Once again, by the time I got to the station, the next train to get to Southampton would arrive at 11:45. Still not in the mood to pay a large sum with the possibility of still missing the bus to New Forest that was already later than I intended in the first place, I walked to the corner of the bus station and cried for close to an hour.

Shut up. I know. It's pathetic, but I was SO excited to get out of the city and enjoy fall. I've had such a hard week, that the prospect of getting out and enjoying myself, nature and the wildlife was invigorating.

Eventually pulling myself back together, I treated myself to a nice breakfast. Then it was off the Natural History Museum to get my dose of wildlife. Granted, they were stuffed and slightly disturbing, but they did the trick. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon in Hyde Park trying to recreate the feeling of being outside the city.

By the time I got back I even had time to nap before dinner which gives me time to do all the reading and studying I should do. So, when all is said and done, today wasn't so bad. I still enjoyed myself.

Slight change of plan

2009-10-24T12:12:00.005+01:00

Due of a lack of sleep this past week and staying out late last night, I've decided to postpone my day trip until tomorrow. This happens to be a great idea as today needs to be spent apparently fixing a minor bank crisis.

However tomorrow, I've decided I'm heading to Nottingham. Whee!

In other news: I win! My blog is apparently noteworthy enough to be visited by the Crap Blog Detective who commented on my last post! Here's the funny part, I know my blog is crap!
However, I am disappointed that this guy is not funnier. He's a bit lame. I mean, why not just go all out? Why not something creative, like "when I read your blog, I get the sudden urge to punch kittens"? Well, I never said I was good at the insults either, but I think there's got to be something better than: "None of those towns are particularly inspiring, so I think you should stay at home and write tedious blogs on how the UK is not the USA. There's just too much history and culture here. You will become dizzy and confused."

All in all, I'm flattered. I just feel like he has so much more potential to live up to!

Help! Where shall I venture?

2009-10-23T14:00:00.001+01:00

I've decided that I'm going to get out of town tomorrow. I've been craving it and I've decided a day trip is in order. The question is: Where?

Here are my choices for tomorrow:

Dover: to see the White Cliffs of Dover and the ocean! But I hear Dover the town itself is pretty run down. But who cares about the town if I spend all day chilling on the cliffs and surrounding areas.

Brighton: Again out to the ocean (because I miss it so much). Brighton is a sea-side resort. It's less about the country side if I head out here, but at least it will be the ocean.

Canterbury: To see the cathedral and relive the Canterbury Tales

Nottingham: To ingulf myself in Robin Hood myth and see some more history.

All four of these trip are between 1-3 hours outside of London and a great chance for me to get out of the city, but I can't seem to make up my mind!

I need your help! I'm going to let you choose for me. So please, let me know what you would like to hear about.

Don't let me down!

Europeans, um, could you NOT dry hump me? kthnxbye

2009-10-22T22:39:00.003+01:00

I'll admit it. I enjoy my personal bubble. I know it's a bit of an American thing to say, but good god people! I don't want to talk to you while your standing on top of me! I don't want to be able to smell everything you had for lunch on your breath and I don't want to notice that you have two tiny awkward black hairs on your forehead.

I thought I would be ok with the European encroachment of personal space, but no. No, I'm not.

First, it's incredibly intimidating. You might be talking to an acquaintance and they will stand within inches of you, and stare you right in the eyes. If you have a bit of space, at least you can look at their nose, hair, or forehead and they may not realize you're not looking them in the eye, but when they're that close? You find yourself nervously switching from their eyes (all the while noticing that their left eye has a brown spot shaped like a pair of balls or upside down heart, your choice of interpretation I guess) to the floor. Or you'll be walking down the street and they continuously walker closer to you, so you compensate by trying to veer to the other side, keeping the distance between you the same. But that only works until you run into the road or building.

Secondly, it's incredibly annoying. If you're standing in a line, the person behind you stands on top of you. I'm not exaggerating either. The front of their shoes are usually touching the heels of your shoes. In fact, just the other day, I was at a copy machine at school and you need to enter your user name and password. The guy behind me was pretty much dry humping me AND looking over my shoulder while I typed in my password. I actually turned around and did a coughing "eh hem" and he didn't move. Didn't even seem phased.

So, I swear, if one more person stands on my heels or gets far too close to me, I may lose it. I might just go ballistic and I might just start another American vs British war.

Why hello muscles. How have you been?

2009-10-21T22:14:00.000+01:00

Today was my first dance class since I've moved to London. I haven't danced since I left Portland over a month ago and it's amazing what your muscles can forget in a month.

I've started a Basics class with this new teacher, and the stuff we did was all stuff I know. And yet, I looked like a moron and I'm sorer than hell! This is sad. I'm sure I'll get back into the swing of things soon enough. But tonight was not fun for my muscles.

Oh. On another note. I got a haircut yesterday. I just don't know when to stop. First, I dyed my hair and that turned out to be a bit of a mess. It was darker than I anticipated AND in certain lights it looks green. So unhappy with the color, I thought "well maybe if I get a new hair cut I'll like my hair better."

Not so sure that worked out.

Yeah. I have bangs. Or, as they say here, fringe. I'm not so sure how I feel about it. Plus, this picture seems to show off the greenness of my hair. Fantastic.

Will this hair debacle ever end!? Will Boots ever stop embarrassing herself?! Will she ever become fashionable enough for London?! Will she ever stop boring the masses with her blog posts?! Will that funny-smelling milk she drank earlier disagree with her later?

Answers to these questions and more in another blog post, written at an indeterminate time, by an unidentified author in another dimension. So you can stop asking them.

Social Life, how do I miss thee. Wait, who am I kidding?

2009-10-20T18:00:00.027+01:00

In a moment of self pity, I found myself lamenting the loss of my social life. I've lived in London for an entire month now and have gone out a whole two times. I spend my days locked away in my room or in the library trying to keep on top of my reading and only see friends when they too are walled up in the library. And then I got to thinking...oh, yeah. I've never had much of a social life so what am I bitching about?

Well, I did have a little bit of a social life in the form of Cait and Kate. This last summer these two provided me with an outlet that if I needed to get out of the house. I miss them dearly.

Now, I find that my solitude is causing delusions and hallucinations. I begin to believe that my readings are my friends, and when I'm lonely I talk to my articles as if El-Shawan's examination of contemporary Egyptian music really gave a damn about my day.

What's worse is when the books start talking back. Mostly, it's innocent stuff like telling me the temperature or that I look rather smashing on that particular day. Other days, they tell me to burn things. I rather enjoy those days.

I've also apparently starting finding other outlets to entertain myself. I was going through my Photobooth files and found this photo:

Not really sure what's going on, but I found it amusing. I tried having a conversation with my picture, but my picture only showed off by responding in Arabic which is completely rude seeing as I've only had two and a half weeks of practice thus far.

Ok. So I was so going to just end this post there and leave you with that awkwardness, asking yourself "is she joking? or has she really gone insane?" Well. Just to clear things up: I have gone insane.

Now, if you'll excuse my Gilbert Rouget's Music and Trance is calling my name. Literally.

P.S. I totally made an awesome video of my Music and Trance: A Theory of the Relations between Music and Possession book talking (which was completely funny and disturbing all at the same time) and now I can't find any way to upload the video onto my blog! What a bummer! I was completely going to have you convinced I was crazy...if I haven't already convinced you.

I'm a regular ol' Betty Crocker

2009-10-19T08:00:00.000+01:00

Attention Interwebs! I successfully baked a delicious dinner last night. Oh yes. It's true.

For anyone who knows my history with cooking, this may not seem believable. Or rather, if I successfully cooked a meal, I probably burned down my kitchen, or set a cat on fire. On any other day, this might have been a probable assumption. However, last night, I honestly made a meal AND didn't light anything on fire.

I was in the mood for roasted potatoes and decided to be lazy and rather than make the potatoes a side dish and then have to cook something else, I made that my main dish. How? Adding bacon. Oh yeah. Potatoes, bacon and carrots. Heaven. For those of you who might like to try my recipe, have at it:

Ingredients:
-Potatoes (however many fit in whatever baking dish you might use)
-Carrots (to add some color, but let's not get too healthy here)
-Bacon (as much as you want)
-Olive Oil (gratuitous, unhealthy amount)
-Unlabeled spices from a cabinet that you didn't know existed

Instructions:
-Throw bacon on a skillet and cook until it smells good
-Chop potatoes
-Chop carrots
-Throw carrots and potatoes into baking dish, it you chopped too many let the dog eat whatever doesn't fit. If you don't have a dog, discreetly throw away extra when no one is looking
-Chop the cooked bacon and throw onto the mix of potatoes and carrots
-Pour olive oil over mixture
-Add whatever spices smell appropriate
-Put in oven (set at "hot") and cook until done

I'm quite scientific, non? Maybe that is the root of my cooking problems. I wing it. That's how I roll. In the end I made the most delicious meal!

Yummy! Aren't you jealous?

What did you do this weekend?

Nazi's love blondes

2009-10-18T10:41:00.000+01:00

I know you are just dying (no pun intended...wait who am I kidding, of course it was) to know what I ended doing about my nasty two-toned hair. I went to the grocery store and literally sat in the hair color aisle for about 45 minutes debating what color I should dye my hair. On one hand, I really really wanted to go darker. On the other hand, I've heard so many people say "stay blonde." So I hoed and hummed and all those pretty women with their dark hair taunted me from the front of their boxes.

In the end, I reluctantly grabbed the color that would match my roots. That way I wouldn't have to dye it anymore, it would be a tad darker and make me happy, but it would still be blonde. So a total win-win situation.

Or at least that was the idea. Here's the color it came out:

I promise I wasn't trying to go brown! It was supposed to be a dirty blonde. However, I think this really IS a win-win situation. I wanted to go darker, but tried to appease everyone by staying blonde. It's not my fault the Universe gave me what I wanted. I'm just awesome like that.

I actually panicked about whether the masses would hate me. Especially the men, because lets face it my love life is just a little pathetic right now. However, as far as I'm concerned, the only naturally occurring blondes are Germans and other northeastern Europeans. To prefer blonde hair over other colors, means you support the theory of the superiority of the Aryan race. In other words, you're a Nazi.

Have a great day everyone! (Except for you, you Nazi scum)

P.S. Please don't ask me why's there is a picture of Hello Kitty as Hitler. I just found it on the interwebs and thought it was too outrageous not to post.

Severed body parts, spiders, and monsters. What's not to like?!

2009-10-17T20:44:00.000+01:00

Halloween is just around the corner and I'm afraid its going to take me by surprise. For the past two years, my roommate and I threw elaborate Halloween parties and were literally planning for weeks and weeks ahead of time. Last years party took the cake. We decorated every room and went all out.
So instead of planning for this year, seeing as the Brits are completely half-assed about Halloween meaning I probably won't be doing anything, I thought I'd share some pictures of our last year's party.

Halloween 2008

The Fortuneteller's Tent (The Living Room)

The Spider Lair (The bathroom)

The Cemetery (The Front Room)

The Mad Scientist Lab (The Kitchen)

If you look closely you can see an evil kitty hiding underneath the operating table.

The Egyptian Tomb (The Hallway)
complete with mummy made out of toilet paper

I have way more photos of the party itself, but beyond this part I was too drunk to really get any good photos. So deal with it. :)

Now, aren't you pissed I won't be having a halloween party?! I know, me too.

London Fashionista I am not.

2009-10-15T09:41:00.000+01:00

I decided to get a haircut. Like it?

It's the new London look.

Psych! I totally gotcha! You really thought I got the boy-cut didn't you?! With my sparse womanly facial hair (and yes, I do think there should be an official term "womanly facial hair") I'd look even more like a pubescent boy than I already do if I cut my hair like that.

However, I do need to do something about my hair. I mean, what the hell is up with this root line?!

Due to a combination of laziness, poorness, and the want for my "original color" back, I haven't dyed my hair in a long time-- you're thinking, "no shit with a root line like that!" Throughout my history, I have been known to go through hair colors like Liz Taylor goes through husbands. I've had purple, light blonde, dark brunette, auburn, honey-colored and dirty blonde hair.

I didn't even remember what my normal hair color was! And the last time I dyed it was an attempt to get it back to the original color. Apparently, I had truly forgotten what color my hair is.

A History of my Hair Color in Photos: (Unfortunately, my photo selection is limited. I don't even have a photo of my purple hair!) *Chronological order*

My auburn phase.

Then to strawberry blonde...

No, this is not a wig. This was my actual hair color. But you probably weren't looking at my hair in this photo. You were either concentrating on the doodling I decided to do on my face, or the kick-ass paper mache spider in the background that I made.

A little lighter, but still rather dark.... And, PLEASE ignore the face...

It's hard to tell, but now I have blonde hair!

Dark again...and yes, drunk again...

Oh yeah, I was throughly plastered by the time this photo was taken...but here's the last hair color before what it is today.

Man, looking back, all these photos are pretty embarrassing. This project has taught me that I'm not photogenic AND don't have any shame.

So, something needs to be done and soon. I think I'm going to cave in and go darker. It's fall. For some reason fall makes me really want darker hair. I swear to god, I'm worse than the trees-- changing every season.

I may or may not endorse punching baby seals.

2009-10-14T21:04:00.000+01:00

Have you ever had one of those mornings when all life's little problems have finally piled too high, you're pretty sure you can't keep yourself together one more day, and you have a gut feeling that you're going to get news that will make everything even worse so that the only way you could even feel the tiniest bit better is if you punched a baby seal square in the face and that would only help until you realize that you just punched a really cute baby seal in the face and then you would feel even worse than before? Yeah. I had one of those mornings.

Unable to log into the school's online platform, I sent an email last night to online support explaining that I was having trouble logging on. I received an email this morning informing me that I was in the system as not having paid my fees and therefore cannot be granted access. On top of that, I have been waiting for SOAS to deposit my loan disbursement (in pounds) into my bank account here. They said that it would take no longer than two weeks and I would get an email once it was done. There was no email today and tomorrow would mark the two week mark.

I know I shouldn't have panicked too much seeing as they still had until tomorrow but I had carefully planned the budgeting of my last bit of change to last me until...tomorrow. I am almost out of food, have just enough on my travel card to get me to school and back until Thursday night, and I currently have 2 pounds to my name. So, if something happened and it didn't come through, I'd be screwed.

The combination of these two issues caused me to absolutely dread going to the Registry office this morning, sure that they were going to tell me that something happened with my loans and I couldn't pay for school let alone my expenses. But, I went in none-the-less.

It turns out that lots of people have had the online platform issue and it took two seconds to get me the appropriate access and when I asked about the loan disbursement to my bank, it turns out that was done on Monday and nobody had emailed me. I was too relieved to fuss about the email. I can finally breathe!

Within a few minutes, my debilitating sense of dread was replaced with euphoria. I've survived the first full week of classes and I now have my loans for at least the first half of the year. This would have made me happy any day, but the feeling is indescribable after the morning I had.

I had no classes today, but since I had to go onto campus to sort out the finance stuff, I got a significant amount of studying done and feel pretty good.

On the bus ride home this evening, to finish off my crazy day, as I made my way to the door just before my stop and passed a tall black man wearing a black robe with a black turban and large walking stick. After a couple second he asked, "Miss, excuse me. You seem like you are clever. How many choices do you have between zero and one?"

Completely caught off guard, I had no idea how to answer. "Um...infinite? I don't know."

"What is zero?"

"Nothing"

"What is one plus zero?"

"One..."

"What is one if you take away zero?"

"One..."

"So what do you have?"

"One?"

"Exactly. You must change the way you think. Things are not as complicated as we make them out to be. Most people would answer my question the way you did. But you must alter your thinking."

There was a brief pause while I pondered just how appropriate this was to me on this particular day. Then he started once again "There is only one religion that allows you to alter your thinking in this manner."

Oh, great, this is what this was all about. But for some reason, I allowed him to continue.

"That religion is called Islam. It allows you to alter your thinking and blurs the line between rich and poor, because you cannot be one thing or another when you think this way."

I really didn't understand what the hell he was really trying to get at here, but again, he did give me something to ponder this evening, so I thought I'd let him go on.

"Miss, if you ever get a chance to read the Koran, please do and maybe you'll find something that resonates with you ... or not, but you should always try to expand your horizons and at least maybe it will change your perspective of a religion so hated."

Fair enough. Before I could respond, the doors opened, and I nodded a thank you in his direction as I stepped off the bus.

I'm like a fucking history book!

2009-10-13T09:36:00.000+01:00

Good morning readers! Can I just say, that I am pleased as punch (though, I'm not sure I've ever actually seen pleased punch) that I now have 17 readers. I love you guys. I think it's great that my awesomeness is starting to catch on.

I do feel it necessary to post an apology for my last, uncharacteristic post. It was some self therapy that was sorely needed. I mean, even the awesome elite need some encouragement every once in awhile.

Now, some of you might have noticed that I've changed my name back to Petrop the Awesome. Boots McGee is an outstanding name, but I'm afraid I need to drop it. Jen, you can still call me Boots if it makes you happy. While the story behind the name Boots is pretty sweet, I still like Petrop the Awesome better. It's like Alexander the Great. You know, that guy that pretty much created the largest empire ever? Alexander, Alexandra. Coincidence? I think not! Yeah, I'm pretty much just like him! But think about it, Awesome is better than Great! My person causes the general public to be full of "awe" and I think that's exactly as it should be.

To make things more interesting, my full name can be Petrop "Boots McGee" the Awesome but don't allow that title to make you complacent and start using shortened versions like Petrop or Boots (except for Jen because I like her). I am Petrop the Awesome, or if you must, Boots the Awesome. It's just the way its got to be. In fact, now that I've written it, I kind of like Boots the Awesome. Ok. Scratch this whole post. I'm now officially Boots the Awesome.

You may now bow.

Shopping in Horse Stalls

2009-10-10T19:48:00.000+01:00

Once again hitting the streets of London to explore, I made it to Camden Town this afternoon. I heard Camden Town is great for it's markets and even though I had no money to spend, I was eager to take in the market experience.

I have since learned that camden, translated from British English to American (or real) English, means "lots of fucking people." Oh my god. They were everywhere, pushing and shoving. Which, if you think about it, is the "market experience." So it really didn't bother me that much. I took a deep breath and told myself to relax seeing as I wasn't in any sort of hurry and it was tolerable but certainly not what you would call pleasant.

There were way more people than this, but this appears to be the photo I got of the crowd. You'll just have to believe me on this one.

The main stretch of road just after the Tube stop is mainly Indie Punk or goth clothing. It was actually more an Indie Punk/Goth overdose if you ask me. Yes, I get it, you like striped tights, bright colors, and My Little Pony necklaces. Enough already (but if you ever feel like getting rid of that My Little Pony necklace, I know someone who might take it off your hands).

I would just like to add, that I Google image searched "Indie Punk London" just so I could show you a picture of what I'm talking about and this guy popped up. I actually saw this guy and his outfit today was even worse. I almost stopped to take a picture and decided against it. No joke. I'm glad someone else got a photo.

After battling my way through the hordes of boys wearing tighter pants than I could have ever hoped to fit into, I made it to the Stables Market and it was amazing. There were lots of shops with vintage clothing, old cheap leather jackets, exotic imports, and antiques. Plus, most of the shops were in renovated horse stalls which gave the market a great eccentric feel. Oh, and the food! There were food courts, but every small kiosk was another world cuisine. Indian, Thai, Mexican, Italian, Balinese, Spanish, Chinese, Moroccan, and just about any other kind of cuisine you could possibly dream of.

Overall, I think I'm in a heap of trouble. The Stable Markets had overwhelming amounts of goodies perfect for new dance costumes, both ATS and fusion costumes. I was salivating just browsing and looking back, I am very proud of myself that I did not buy one thing. I swear. Nothing. I have so much will power.

Now it's time to make use of my will power and force myself to finish all my reading, given that it's another weekend night and I am once again sequestered away in my room being completely unsocial. Although, I could really go for watching a movie...

You can flog me if it would make you feel better....and I mean that in a completely non-sexual way....pervert

2009-10-09T21:52:00.001+01:00

I've not been very good about writing, and when I have written, I've mostly complained. I'm sorry. No. Then again, I'm not really sorry. I'm a complainer. It's like my job. I probably should get paid for it. I'd be rich, and not CEO-of-an-international-company rich, but greedy-monarch-who-uses-state-money-to-supply-her-gold-toilet-paper-and-caviar-swimming-pool-fetishes rich.

So. Anywho. I know, I've been bad about writing and even worse about catching up on all my favorite blogs to read and YET my wonderful friend over at Life, Love and Wine has given me an award-- the Simply Fabulous Award. I'm humbled!

Apparently, the rules of the award are to list my 5 favorite obsessions and then pass it on to five other great bloggers. So, here we go:

1. Coffee. Plain and simple, I just love coffee. I believe the liquid that courses through my veins is probably coffee. Might explain the twitching, might.

2. Chocolate. Again, it's pretty simple. Give this woman some chocolate and she be completely content...until its gone.

3. McVities Dark Chocolate Digestives. Oh, these wonderful UK cookies probably belong to an "2a" category as they're just chocolate covered cookies. But they're cheap and oh so delicious. In fact, I just stocked up on them yesterday because Tesco was having a sale. YUMMY!

4. Hmm. This is getting tough. Seeing as my first three obsessions are all food related, I'd like to say my fourth and fifth aren't. But, I'd be lying. My Fourth: Alcohol. And, boy did I move to the right country for that obsession?! My school's main building has a pub in the basement, where you can buy beer any time of day, even between classes and just yesterday my African music professors invited the masters students to join in their after-class ritual of a glass of wine in the staff common room (which is also complete with a bar).

5. My fifth and only REAL obsession, (like I'd probably die without it) is learning. It's ok. I'll let you stop laughing and shouting "nerd." Go ahead. You can finish anytime. But it's true. I LOVE learning, particularly about music, hence the Ethnomusicology Masters thing I'm doing, though it could be anything. The more you learn, the more you learn that you know nothing. And that is what keeps me going-- the endless pursuit of knowledge and the inescapable mystery of the world.

Now that I've rambled, I'd love to send the award along to some of my favorite bloggers. Not because I expect them to write their obsessions and continue the chain (unless they want to), but because I honestly think you should check them out!

1. Mosaic Art by LeeAnn Petropoulos: LeeAnn has just celebrated her year anniversary of being a blogger and full-time artist. Her blogs are fun to read AND her art is stunning! I recommend you head on over to her site, especially soon as she's holding a contest for $100 off any of her artwork!!!

2. Life, Love and Wine: I know she's the one who gave me the award and I'm probably breaking all the rules by listing her, but that's how I roll. I'm a rebel. No, seriously check her out. She is not only a funny writer, but she always posts DELICIOUS recipes!

3. There's Nothing That the Road Won't Heal: Ok, so I know that the idea of this award is just a little girly, and I might get in trouble for sending it over to this guy, but again, I don't play by the rules. Plus, I just think it's funny. ;) John is a folk musician who started out keeping a blog while on tour and I have recently forced him to continue writing even while he's between tours. He's a great writer, smart and funny!

4. Not That Kind of Girl: This is a great blog, because she pretty much takes all the things you wish you could do, or wonder why the hell anyone else does them, and then she does them. It's funny, well written and a great inspiration to go against the grain and try new things!

5. More is Better: This girl has adopted the life of a nomad and of course blogging about it. She's funny to read and it's fun to vicariously live a nomad's life through another person! :)

So there. I'm done for today seeing as I have probably about 100 pages to read tonight (yes on a Friday night and no my social life is currently non-existant so stop rubbing it in), it's already 10:30pm and I wasted two hours of my life attempting to be cheap and catch the bus rather than the tube home. (See? Complaining. Rich! I tell you, Rich!)

I got a tan from standing in the English rain

2009-10-07T18:55:00.000+01:00

I think I'm in love. I absolutely love the School of Oriental and African Studies. Where else could you spend the afternoon listening to Zimbabwean mbira, Senegalese kora, a Chinese tea room ensemble, Korean drumming, a Middle Eastern ensemble, an Afro-Cuban band, Klezmer music, djembe, Javanese gamelan and Indian tabla all in one room?

Today was the music performance fair. For three and a half hours, I had the pleasure of listening to all the above mentioned musicians and more that I'm sure I forgot. I didn't have any classes today, though I did have my first Ethnomusicology in Practice course yesterday. Oh. My. God. It's going to be amazing and I'm going to learn so much, but it is SO much work. Lots of reading.

Tomorrow I have Arabic and Music of Atlantic Africa. It should be an exciting day!

Oh. And in case you were curious, I found my umbrella. Don't ask me where I found it. Ok, fine. I found it in my backpack. Shutup. It was really hidden. I did, however, leave it at home today and of course it poured. Awesome. On my walk home, while completely drenched, "I am the Walrus" came on my iPod and I thought it only appropriate.

"Sitting in an english garden waiting for the sun.

If the sun don't come, you get a tan

From standing in the english rain."

Ghosts and Lost Umbrellas do not make for a good day

2009-10-05T22:58:00.000+01:00

Today kinda sucked and not in the "my life is shit and nothing ever works for me way" but in the "I really feel like complaining but don't have a lot to complain about" kind of way.

It was the first day we had proper rain since I've been here. Everyone said, "English weather sucks. Beware!" and it has been nothing but sun for two weeks. Today, it rained. I realized, due to the sun, I still did not have an umbrella, so I thought it would be a good day to invest in one. This decision was not taken lightly however, as I was down to my last bit of cash for the next week or so. Regardless, I figured an umbrella would be a good idea and I spent all but my last two quid on it.

I went to my first Arabic class (whooo hoo!) and had to sit next to the most annoying person in the world! Ok, maybe not as bad as Naked Cowboy, but close. She honestly finished every other sentence the teacher said, just so that everyone around her knew how smart she was. If you know the answer to something and pipe up every once in a while, I'll forgive it and forget. But every freaking sentence! I was about to smack a bitch.

After class I head to the library to see if the Arabic textbook was available (remember I spent my last bit o' change on the umbrella so I'll have to wait a week or so to properly buy the book) and of course it wasn't, at least for loaning. It there for reference, so I can complete the homework. I grab my stuff and get ready to head home and once I get out in the rain I realize I have no umbrella. I had lost it already.

I never did find it.

Now, I'm down to 2 quid AND no umbrella. I really hope it doesn't rain in the next week.

After all that, I think I subconsciously decided to punish myself by walking to the bus rather than taking the Tube home. It's cheaper that way, but meant more walking in the rain. Along my walk, I swear I was pushed, shoved, and bumped more times than I can count. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't it common courtesy to walk down the same side of the sidewalk that you drive on? So, in the States you stick to the right and here, you should stick to the left. Then you never run into a person heading the opposite direction.

That would be the simple way to do things. Half of London, foreigners not from England decide to keep to the right while the other half keeps to the left. And for some reason both halves feel completely justified in their choice and refuse to move. If you're not quick enough to dodge in and out, right to left to right to left, then you'll be bumped. I tried a couple of times to just barrel through, and while you feel good running over some chick who refused to move over, your body doesn't necessarily thank you for it.

Finally, at home today I think I've discovered a I've caught a ghost on video! Crazy, but it's no joke. I literally spent most my afternoon listening over and over trying to debunk it. Have a see for yourself:

http://petrop.blogspot.com/2009/02/day-three-hells-gate.html

It's the video towards the end. This was while my friend Matt and I were all alone wandering around Hell's Gate National Park in Kenya. We were the only ones around when this video was taken. There's a whispering voice at the very beginning of the video and I can't explain it. It doesn't sound like my friend (who you can hear later in the video) and again I swear no one else was there. Plus, (and other people have said this so it's not just me trying to make it creepier than it is) it sounds like a black man speaking in another language. Remember, we were in Kenya.

So have a look for yourself and send me your suggestions, but I've been pretty creeped out all evening.

So Close and Yet Safari

2009-10-04T10:49:00.000+01:00

DONE! Finally done! I've finished editing and rewriting the journal of my trip to Kenya. I've tried to put it into a readable format, so please check it out. I would love your feedback!

SO CLOSE AND YET SAFARI: Kenya November 2008

Infrickingcredible

2009-10-03T12:19:00.000+01:00

This guy is my new hero.

IS THERE NOTHING HE CAN'T DO!?!

Well...looks like I've got some practicing to do. :)

Good Decisions

2009-10-02T22:22:00.000+01:00

The SOAS Department of Music held it's Post-Graduate Students Welcome meeting this evening and I've officially begun my journey towards a Master's in Ethnomusicology. I had the chance to meet some amazing students and faculty members. I held and overheard lively discussions concerning music whilst sipping more free wine and it was a music nerd's dream. One faculty member in particular and I had an informal discussion about my passion and area interests. She not only sparked within me more passion for the path I'm leading, but made several new exciting suggestions and gave me an initial list of connections and opportunities for my upcoming year.

I am going to be in a very different place next year and I have a feeling I'm going to love it.

Reflecting on this, I thought, "SOAS is going to end up being the best decision I've ever made." And then I realized that's not true.

I've made alot of bad decisions in my life (far too many for someone who's only lived 24 years), but my ending up at SOAS is really only the latest good decision I've made in a stream of good decisions.

My first good decision: Leave Steve. I learned some valuable (and unfortunate) lessons during my time with Steve, but in the end, I couldn't have made a better decision than to leave him. My life was heading into a dead-end and my drive for individuality, success and happiness had escaped somewhere through the window while I was too busy being in a relationship and living the American life.

My freedom brought new challenges and new opportunities. Had I not been single and back on the quest for my individuality and success, I would have never grown into the person I am today. Who I was when I was with Steve would have never taken a trip to Kenya for the hell of it.

The person I was after Steve did.

That was my second best decision. Not only did I have the best vacation ever, my eyes were opened by my first worldly experience. I soaked it up and loved every minute of my exposure to life outside of the one I knew. My trip provided priceless memories, experiences, and photos. Most importantly, had I not taken that trip, I would have never met the man in Lamu who told me the story of his girlfriend, a student at SOAS. SOAS had sent her to Kenya for three months to learn Swahili and it is this fact that intrigued me, caused me to research the school and discover its reputation.

And here I am. Had I not made the previous two decisions, I would not be here so I do not feel I can truthfully say that coming to SOAS was the best decision I've ever made. Regardless, I can say without a doubt that I am blessed to have the opportunities I have had, to have the support from my family and friends who have helped guide me to make these decisions, and to have the willpower and drive to be the person I have become-- so different than three years ago.

Now that I am here, I can feel the workings of the Universe beneath me. I know that there are more opportunities and more good decisions to be made just around the corner.

Life, ready or not, here I come.

How's Life?

2009-10-01T17:08:00.000+01:00

I've had a rather hectic two days with plenty of good and bad. Yesterday, I enrolled in my courses. Rather, sort of enrolled. This whole system is so different from the US system, it's sometimes hard to determine where you stand.

The enrollment process was full of queues. I stood in one queue to get a enrollment confirmation stamp, a second queue to get a fees stamp, a third queue to get a data stamp, and I'm pretty sure I had to stand in a fourth queue because I needed four stamps, but I cannot for the life of me remember what the last stamp was for. Probably to note that you've successfully stood in queues all day long.

All that, and I had to wait in ANOTHER queue to turn in my stamped card and receive my Student ID/library card. You'd think that would mean I was enrolled. Nope. I still had not even chosen my classes by this point. Once I had my ID card I had to take a sheet, fill in the courses I wanted and find the teachers of each course who would sign my sheet.

So what were the courses I finally decided to take?

1. (Required) Ethnomusicology in Practice

2. (Required Area Study of Choice) Music of the Middle East, Near East and North Africa

3. (Minor Course of Choice) Introduction to Modern Standard Arabic

4. Dissertation

And, for the hell of it, I've decided to audit Music of Atlantic Africa.

That's 13 hours of lectures each week. Crap.

The good news for yesterday, I went to the Arts and Humanities Faculty Welcome Party and got to meet other students (only met one other ethnomusicologist) and drank lots of free wine. The related bad news is that I apparently drank too much free wine and was hung over before I even left the party and had to ride the tube home with a massive headache.

Today, I had to figure out how to change the loan disbursement I received yesterday to help with living costs from US dollars to pounds. Not sure why Sallie Mae thought it was a good idea to send US dollars to a UK school... Thanks Sallie Mae! You made this so easy! Mother fuckerramblecrapbitchramblemumble grumble. My choices were to deposit the check into my brand spanking new UK bank account and wait 6 weeks. Yes. 6 weeks. Or, I could give the check to the school who would change it and deposit my loan into my bank account in no more than two weeks.

In the mean time I have to pay my landlord who was already kind enough to wait this long for the rest of the rent. I told him I was waiting for my loan and I can't possibly ask him to wait another two weeks. So once I pay him, I'm left with 20 pounds cash and roughly $100USD in my US bank account to live. I also have credit card bills due before the loan will be deposited. Great.

The good news for today, is that I have a Staples Cash Card because I returned a few things before leaving the States. After they argued that they would only give me store credit and I told them that it would do me no good seeing as I was moving to the UK, they gave me a card saying that they have UK stores and I could use the card in the UK. Great! I'll need school supplies. The closest Staples is about a 45 minute walk from my house, and trying to save on costs, I walked and didn't take the bus. I arrived and asked if they could tell me how much is on my card and the cashier looked at me confused and then told me I couldn't use it. MOTHER F'ER! Looking at the back of the card, it says "for merchandise in the U.S. retail stores only." I'm going to hurt someone. Not only can I not use it here, but I can't use it on the online store either. And it's not like it's a few dollars. I have $57.74 on that damn card!!!

Absolutely pissed off, lonely, beaten down, and dejected I marched back along the 45 minute walk home. While crossing a road an Italian man came up along side me and said (in a very sexy Italian accent), "Excuse me, miss. Excuse me. Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you."

"You look unhappy."

"Oh, it's been a long day."

"It will be ok. What is your name?"

"Alex"

"I'm Antonio. I'm from Italy. Where are you from?"

"The States."

"How's life?"

"Um, it's good. It's been a little rough moving here, but it's good. Thank you. How about you, how's life?"

"Very good. I'm going home now with the bread I just bought and making BBQ. I love BBQ."

"Yeah, I love it too." And by this time, I was smiling again.

How's life?

Even fat feet can't keep me down!

2009-09-29T18:26:00.001+01:00

I would like to start this post by telling you I just spent 20 minutes turning my tiny room upside down trying to find my Kleenex which I had used only seconds before I started looking again.

I just found the Kleenex smack dab in the middle of the room. Out in the open. By itself. Couldn't possibly be any more visible. Mother F'er.

Now back to your regularly scheduled post:

Today, I was SMOKING!

No. I was not on fire. You suck.

I looked damn good. I totally looked like I belong in London, meaning I was pants-less. Yeah, I tried the no-pants thing, sue me. Actually, I was wearing a skirt and black tights and the only pair of European shoes that fit me. I also used my new hairdryer so I didn't look like I just finished a year long trip out in the middle of the rainforest. Plus, I had finally unpacked my makeup so I could, ya know, "do my face." Oh yeah. I was turning heads.

Chalk a very need point up for the Self-Esteem!

I would have paraded myself up and down London just to keep that self-esteem meter climbing, until my feet started to bitch. Yeah, they may have fit into this single pair of European shoes, but they were not liking it. Fine, fine. I got what I needed out of the shoes, so I only went about my business rather than parading around town.

My business included another talk at my school. This talk was entitled: "Study Habits for Masters Students." Oh. My. God.

I said it before and I'll say it again: I'm fucked. What the hell did I get myself into?! First off, the UK grading system is different in that they grade you on a 70% scale. If you did very well, they give you a 70. I ask you, does that make sense? Perfectionist freak-out moment just waiting to happen.

Secondly, did I mention that this program is only a year? I only have a year to do my course work, decide on a dissertation topic, research the dissertation topic, and write said dissertation. Oh yeah, and do I need to remind you that a dissertation is not simply a research project? You pretty much have to find a topic no one else has ever done before. Ever. It's frigging 2009. Everything in the world has already been done! And NO I'M NOT BEING MELODRAMATIC!

Finally, a Masters degree is based on research (I can handle that) and writing. Wait, what? Oh yeah, writing. As evidenced by this blog, I cannot write! I suck at it. I can't even write well in an informal setting like a blog, let alone in an academic sense.

This blows. This will certainly be an interesting year.

Oh, and one more bitch before I leave you tonight:

MEN: Your junk cannot possibly be that big. When you ride on public transportation you can close your legs just a LITTLE bit more and stop taking up a third of the train or bus and I promise you're not going to destroy any chance you may have at creating a tiny army of mini-you's. So, yeah, that's it, go ahead and make the space between your legs closer in size to, say, a miniature horse rather than a fricking football field.

Seriously, England? Really?

2009-09-28T21:47:00.000+01:00

Maybe it's the fact that I'm better enough that I've gone beyond the wanting-to-die phase and moved into the still-sick-enough-to-sound-like-a-man-and-is-just-as-cranky phase of sickness, but today blew. Mostly. Today, I had to head back to my school to hear a talk that I missed on Saturday because I was sick. This talk caused the first realization that I'm actually a masters student in graduate school. Oh-em-gee, dude! The fact that I just felt compelled to type "Oh-em-gee dude" leads me to believe that this could be a pretty hard year for me. Hmm.

After the talk, I decided to head up to the shopping mall area not far away and look at shoes seeing as London is full of really cute shoes and I am currently down to three pairs. I found a store that has really cute cheap shoes...and my feet are too fat for every single one of them.

WHAT THE FUCK, UK?! Really? Are ALL of your women's feet that skinny? Oh, sure, you have a "wide" section, but that doesn't help if your feet are STILL too fat.

Ok. I exaggerated. I honestly found ONE pair of shoes my fat feet fit into. And I bought them. Shut up. What's a girl to do?

Next on the agenda for today, was to head to the store for some basic household goods. Like a duvet cover, clothes hangers, full-length mirror, indoor airer for wet clothes, hair dryer, etc. You know, stuff that would have been silly to pack but is still perfectly necessary. So I went to Sainsbury, where I got my last minute bed linens the first night I moved in. Well, Sainsburys did not have duvet covers. Oh sure, they had duvet cover sets, which included things I did not need, but no duvet covers.Alright, fine. Next item: clothes hangers. None. Sainsburys had no hangers. OK. 0 for 2. Off to a good start. Let's try something else. A mirror? No. Indoor airer for wet clothes. Nada.

GOD DAMNIT! It was obvious Sainsburys would get me no where. I asked around to see if there was another home goods store nearby (remember I have no car). No one knew of anything. Great. So I went online and looked for the UK version of Wal-Mart. Literally, I went onto the Wal-Mart website clicked on "International Customers" and found that the UK version is called ASDA. You know, I bitch about Wal-Mart and how much I hated it, but honestly I would have kissed its floor if I came across one and it had hangers.

The closest ASDA was a bus and tube ride away, but no matter, I needed the stuff and climbed aboard. Let me tell you. ASDA is no Wal-mart. It's like a cross between Mardens and Big Lots and without the low prices! The place was small, not alot of merchandise, nothing seemed to have any kind of order, and it almost had a garage sale feel to it. Whatever. At least I had found a home goods store.

Hairdryer. Check. Flat sheet for bed. Check. Duvet Cover. Check, though I did have to buy a duvet cover set which included a pillow case, but who can't use an extra pillow case (especially with all the drooling I've been doing lately thanks to my cold. Yeah, I know you didn't need to know that and that's exactly why I told you.) Mirror. Sorta check. I found a mirror, but it's like half-length. Apparently the English only like to view half of themselves in the mirror before leaving the house. That would explain the current clothing trend. Everyone just doesn't realize they're not wearing pants because their mirror doesn't go down that far.

(Seriously, nobody in London wears pants. It's all these leggings. It's weird and yet I feel the urge to jump this bandwagon. I mean, who wouldn't want an excuse to not wear pants? Not this guy. It's no pants from here on out. Of course, that may be an issue seeing as I don't yet own leggings. I will not let that stop me.)

So what about clothes hangers? Well. That's the thing. Apparently no one in England believes in hanging up clothes. I couldn't find anything. No. I lied. I found kids hangers. That's it. So I bought them. However, most of my clothes that need to be hung up are pants and skirts, meaning I needed hangers made for skirts and pants. So, being the genius I am, I made my own hangers out of kids hangers and clothes pins.

Kick ass! Plus, now my "closest" (or really corner of my room with a hanging rack thingy) is really colorful!

Overall, my day sucked, but its was still a win. A cranky win, but I won none-the-less.

Welcome Home

2009-09-27T19:39:00.000+01:00

I have a home! I moved into my tiny little room on the outskirts of London (near the Manor House Tube Station) officially yesterday evening, but today I finished bringing all my luggage over from the hostel. No, I do not have that much stuff, but being deadly sick, I did not feel like carting my bags all at once across the city. As a side note: you (and by you I mean my mother) may be interested to know that now that I've unpacked, I dutifully took my OSHA seeing as my cold has apparently taken up residence in my lungs. If you've ever taken OSHA before, then you understand why I need to pat myself on the back for taking it completely without nagging by anyone. It's nasty stuff, but it works!

I am not exaggerating, I pretty much feel like dying. I'm a little better today than yesterday, I mainly think that's because I have a place today to lie down and call my own. Granted my bed only has a fitted sheet and a duvet (sans duvet cover). Why? Because I thought that was cool.

No, it was because I didn't bring linens with me and I hadn't thought about buying any until last night. Might be a good idea, non? So, I caught the bus up towards the local Sainsbury, the only thing still open. I went to the linens section and found sheets, but apparently the only sheets they sell are fitted sheets. I couldn't find regular sheets to save my live. Keep in mind, I had a sinus headache that was pretty much making me see stars, so I may (just MAY) have missed them, but I swear I looked everywhere. So I settled on just buying a fitted sheet, a pillow, a pillow case and a duvet (the cover is something I can worry about later...when I feel better).

At any rate, here's my flat. :)

My living room and flatmate

The view from my window.

Sick, so sick

2009-09-25T20:18:00.001+01:00

I feel like crap. Sore throat and congestion, I'd joke and say I have swine flu, but that's probably not a good thing to joke about in hostel. I'll get stoned to death and probably feel worse than I already do...because I'd be dead. Yeah, just roll with it, alright?

I'm just praying I haven't gotten strep throat again. I've already done my time with that several months again. Plus, dealing with being sick is no fun by yourself in another country. I'm too much of a baby. I did visit a Chinese Apothecary, got some herbal remedies and have been overdosing on fruit, water and orange juice. Orientation for school starts tomorrow, so here's hoping I feel better tomorrow!

And Oh! I found a flat. I move tomorrow evening. Yay! It's located between the Manor House and Seven Sisters tube stations and is about a 30 minute commute from my school. Not bad, but it's cheap enough to make it worth it. I'll post pictures as soon as I move in tomorrow. :)

What is this building? Oh. Buckingham Palace? Imagine that.

2009-09-24T21:25:00.000+01:00

Today's plan was to visit Bucingham Palace and see the changing of the guards with Deepak, Javi, Pablo and Mars. Feeling brave we all decided to walk rather than take the tube or a bus and we all know how good my sense of direction is. Or rather, if you don't know how good my sense of direction is, just take my word for it. I can get lost just about anywhere.I kept losing my sense of where we were, but we eventually came across what had to be Green Park that surrounds Buckingham Palace. I was sure that Buckingham Palace would be on our right and before heading that direction we came across a building with lots of people standing outside. I wanted to know what was so interesting so I asked a close by policeman what building it was. He replied, "That's Buckingham Palace... What did you think it was?" Great. I just completely made a fool of myself in front of a (rather good-looking) policeman. Damnit.

Well, there you go. We made it to Buckingham Palace, which was not as cool as I apparently thought it should be. We had arrived at about 10:15 and the changing of the guard happens around 11:30. Even this early, it was hard to find a spot near the gate with a view, but we staked out a spot and waited. The area quickly filled with people.

Once the changing of the guard started, I couldn't see a thing. Which is fine. In fact, this was my view of the entire ceremony:

I did find myself standing behind an older American woman who only fit into every other stereotype I've encountered this trip. She was so sweet to me, trying to make sure I could see what was going on (probably because I sounded American), but continued to complain about the Spanish woman who was getting in the way.

So. There. I saw, or rather "saw" the changing of the guard. I did it and will never do it again.

I will mention that Pablo and Javi, the Spaniards are currently sitting with me while I write this and have advised me that I would be funnier if I drank first. Pablo does not seem to accept the fact that I do not want to "party" tonight. I am still recovering from two nights ago. However, the Spaniards are all ready to go clubbing all night again! Crazy Spaniards.

Hey Sexy, where are you going? You look like cauliflower.

2009-09-23T15:13:00.000+01:00

First, I have to start this post by telling you that on my way to lunch today I, get this, gave someone directions. AND THEY WERE RIGHT! Win. Of course, the directions consisted of simply saying "it's just a little further up the road" but who cares? I'm starting to figure out where stuff is!

So yesterday, the homesickness started to slowly creep up on me. Until yesterday, I've had so much fun exploring that I haven't had time to sit down and think about how homesick I was. Yesterday, I had decided to take a chill day to try to catch up on some sleep and rest. Therefore, I had time to sit down and allow the homesickness time to cultivate. I began to think about how I had only met one person since arriving, Deepak my hostel roommate. I thought maybe the best remedy for this would be a trip out to Trafalgar Square and Picadilly Circus.

For lunch I came across Pep-C, an American food restaurant. I thought, "hey, maybe I could cure some homesickness by eating a burger." Wrong. I pretty much paid 10 pounds for a terrible burger. So, in an even worse mood, I vowed that I would meet at least three people that night in an attempt to feel less alienated.

That worked alittle too well. Deepak had asked me to show him how to make pasta, one of his favorite non-Indian foods, so we were hanging out in the hostel kitchen cooking. To explain the title of this blog post, Deepak told me that in the Punjabi language they have a saying this is used like a pickup line and it literally means "Hey Sexy, where are you going? You look like cauliflower (or You're dressed up like cauliflower)." How awesome is that?

At any rate, we were chilling in the kitchen when we met Spencer and Nick from California who were having a fun run in with a drunk Irishman. No. I'm not trying to stereotype, but there was a heavily tanked Irishman attempting to cook for the Californians and himself whilst shouting, yelling profanities, stumbling, and pretty much causing all of us to look on with amusement.

It did not take long before the Irishman was completely tanked and disappeared. Nick and Spencer then sat with me and Deepak while we ate dinner and began to chat. It wasn't too much longer before we had attracted a small crowd of people, Mars from China, Yara and Kim from Germany, Jared from South Carolina, Anthony from Australia, and Pablo and Gavi from Spain. We spent the evening in the hostel lounge and had quite a blast. Everyone was really cool and we caused a bit of a scene. It wasn't too long before we ran out of alcohol and decided to go out to a bar. All ten of us (Mars didn't come out, which was a shame as he was quite a funny little guy...I'm sorry...man) geared up and head towards Soho. We found the first bar and after a drink head out in search of bar number two. We made it to Leicester Square where there were clubs, people, music, and club salesmen (and yes I'm trying to be generous with my labeling here).

I didn't even know that clubs came with sales men, but our group was approached by at least five different men from about three different clubs trying to offer us the best deal. We tried getting the salesmen in a fight over us, but the best deal we could get was 5 pounds for guys and free for the ladies at the club Zoo. Alright!

We were at the club until 3:00 when the club closed and all of us were trying to gather up and head back to the hostel when Jared, Anthony and I split off and head to the Den an "after-party" club. While Zoo was fun, it felt like a tourist club compared to the Den which felt like real underground London. Walking into the Den was like walking back into the 80s. You see the awful London fashion on TV and you assume it can't really be that bad, right? Well, wrong. The Brits really dress that bad. I mean the hair! If I could only have taken pictures. Alas, you will just have to believe that the club looked like something out of a really bad London punk 80s movie. I can't even find pictures bad enough to give you a sense of it. Plus, I'm pretty sure at least 85% of the people in the club were tripping on some really heavy drugs that just made the stereotype even worse.

Jared and I finally ended up leaving Anthony behind and making it back to the hostel around 5:30. I had lots of fun and it was totally worth the experience, but this old lady's not sure she could do that again.

Or at least, too many more times. :)

Lay off, I'm busy being a tourist in my new home town

2009-09-21T21:56:00.000+01:00

Writing when you're busy exploring a brand new (huge) city is pretty difficult. However, I do not mind the excuse the relax in the hostel. I've been pretty much on the go since I arrived and I tell you what, my feet are killing me! (Side note: my feet are really stinky now that I've finally taken off my shoes. No wonder no one is sitting next to me.)

Yesterday I took a walk towards the center of town and it did not take me long on my walk before I had decided that I am completely in love with this city already. I am surrounded by history! Being a huge nerd, that's actually a good thing for me. Shortly I found myself at St. Paul's Cathedral. Appropriately, it was Sunday and the bells were loudly calling everyone to service. It was one of the most beautiful sounds I've heard. The bells seemed to call joyfully down the street and with the sun shining (yeah. I know! Sun...England...) it felt like the final scene of a movie. I was sure that if I looked hard enough, I would find a good-looking couple standing in front of the church embrace while a banner flies above them reading "They lived Happily Ever After."

I also made it down to the Thames, not far from the Tower of London, but decided to save exploring the London Tower for the next day. Later yesterday evening, I went out to visit a flat. The flat was nice, but would have ended up being about a 40 minute commute. I had one other viewing scheduled for the next day and didn't want to make any decisions until I had seen both places.

This morning, after a long day yesterday, I head out for my anticipated tour of the Tower of London. I have always wanted to visit the Tower of London. I spent at least four hours exploring the Tower alone, deciding to not to tag along with a tour. It was fantastic. It was so exhilarating just to touch the walls and bath in the feeling of the place. While the mystical aura that accompanies a place that not only has lots of history, but lots of intense and bloody history is slightly diminished by the sheer volume of tourists, it still has the ability to transport you back in time.

I was, however, slightly disappointed that there was less of a creep factor than I would assume a place with so much bloody history would have. It wasn't until I visited the crypt of the All Hallow by the Tower Church that I felt creeped out. I was only one of about three people in the church and when I ventured down to the crypt, I was the only one and it made me just alittle uneasy.

I finally made it back to the hostel after another long day in time for a quick dinner before heading out to view the second flat. The second flat was closer, cheaper, and smaller. I've decided I would rather go with the closer, cheaper, smaller flat. I should know by tomorrow whether I have the flat or not. :)

Now, I'm tired. It's off to bed!

Ya know, fish, chips, cup o' tea, bad food, worse weather, Mary Poppins...London!

2009-09-19T18:05:00.000+01:00

I'm in London! Finally! I haven't slept in over 29 hours and I'm exhausted. I'm sorry to say that I had planned on putting together a photo journal of the journey and due to the high emotions and exhaustion that lasted until I left the house.

Here I am trying to pack the bags that became the bane of my existance.

My dog tried to help me.

My cat couldn't give a shit.

I flew out, and my flights were fine. No issues. Then once I arrived in Heathrow, I thought I would be adventurous and take the Tube rather than pay for a taxi. After getting stuck in the entrance to the Tube, I made my way onto the train and caused quite a scene trying to take up as little space as possible, which was equivalent to about 5 people and happened to block a door. Halfway through the Tube ride, I gave up and left in search of a taxi. And due to the "gap" between the tube and platform, I couldn't roll my bags out. No that would be too easy. I had to literally toss one bag out of the train at a time, hoping I could get all of them as well as myself out of the train before the doors closed. I got out of the station and attempted to make my way to the taxis and fell over myself several times due to my excessive baggage. A taxi driver took pity on me and helped me out, but while loading my bags, broke off one wheel from my big-ass rolly luggage. DAMNIT!

I didn't cry though. I almost did, but I just stopped caring.

I finally got to the hostel and have been exploring and trying to keep myself awake. I will post more tomorrow about London once I've had a chance to sleep.

For now. Goodnight. :)

On this day, many years ago ;) a great man was born.

2009-09-17T15:39:00.000+01:00

Ugh, I'm not even in London yet and I'm already overwhelmed. I've started contacting people about looking at flats and I already have two viewings booked. Which is good...but one of them happens to be the day I arrive. So here's what I'm looking at for my schedule:

Friday evening: Depart for London from Boston

Saturday morning/afternoon: Arrive in London, and somehow maneuver my far-too-heavy bags to my hostel

Saturday afternoon/evening: Go visit at least one flat

Saturday evening: *Crossing my fingers* that I get to bed at a half decent time... say, 7:00pm. :)

Sunday all day: Dance workshops... for six hours. Yeah, I'm crazy

Sunday evening: Possibly have to schedule some flat viewings

Someone please shoot me now. No. Not now. I get to go another Red Sox game tonight. How about you shoot me after the game?

At any rate, you probably won't hear from me again until after I've gotten to London. :) So, please be patient. See you on the other side!!

One more thing before I go:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!

Matt Damon and a lady bug may or may not have something in common

2009-09-15T13:54:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was a fun Monday and by fun I mean interesting and by interesting I mean odd and by odd I mean fun...yeah... I think.

Anywho. I had my last Monday at work. Woot! What does "woot" mean anyway? Ok. So I just looked it up: "w00t" was originally an truncated expression common among players of Dungeons and Dragons tabletop role-playing game for "Wow, loot!"
That just totally made my day! What a nerdy thing to say. I'm a nerd so it's totally cool for me to use it, but I bet there are thousands of cool people out there who had no idea and have inadvertently become nerds. Hahaha. Woot.

On my way home from work, I stopped at the gas station to fill up and put some air in my tires. Next to the air machine thing that unfairly charges you $0.75 to use air, there was a bench and a man chilling out on said bench. The man appeared to be waiting for someone and, due to the fact that he had several bags around him, looked like he must be road tripping. I finished filling my tires and was trying to neatly roll up the air hose when this man called me over to him. He asked "Do you find you have trouble with your tires?"
"Um, not sure what you mean."
"Do your tires lose air quickly"
"I guess so, but I also am due for new tires so that may be my issue."
"Well, you see, I'm the guy who wrote Good Will Hunting the book. And I sent the script to Hollywood and that's why Matt Damon played in the movie. But you know, your tires might have some kind of defect." I'm not going to lie, I almost believed the guy. He didn't look crazy, but the longer I talked to him the more crazy he got. Finally, as I got back into my car to leave I said "have a good day" and he replied with "there's a ladybug on my hand!" Good for you.

Next, I had a guy coming to look at my car after responding to an ad I posted with the hopes of selling it before I leave. I listed my car for $10,500 and I owe $10,200 on it. The guys offered me $3,000, maybe $3,500. I stared at him for a moment, debating whether I should just punch the guy right then and there before responding, "Um. No. Get out before I sick the dogs on you."

The night ended on a good note though. Cait and I went once more for ice cream and spent the evening on the docks of Portland debating how the mailman saga will end, seeing as tomorrow is my last day at work. The mailman has been warned that my last day is coming up and we tried to predict if the mailman will make any move. By the way, the mailman has already come today and did nothing, so he only has tomorrow to do any of the following:

Cait's suggestions:
*He shows up with a boom box in Say Anything fashion.
*He hires the big screen during a Red Sox game to profess his love for me
*He ambushes me in the hallway and pulls me into the supply closet. I really hope this does not happen as I was forced to promise Cait that if it does, I'd go ahead and roll with it just so I can say I had sex with the mailman in a supply closet. I mainly don't want this to happen because I already packed my razor a few days ago and therefore would have a very unpleasant, hairy surprise for the mailman. (Yes, I'm a classy woman)
*He shows up with a bag of Cracker Jacks with a "surprise" inside. That surprise being either a condom or his penis. (Yes, Cait is a classier woman)

My Suggestions:
*He shows up in full uniform and does the Drew Carey Show version of the Full Monty with spinning package and all.

As you can see, Cait was having far more fun with this than I was.

What are your predictions?

Why do the work yourself when others do it for you?

2009-09-14T13:48:00.000+01:00

Well, I'm down to the homestretch. Five more days and I'm off. Yikes. I think it goes without saying that because of this, my brain is fried (and if you need proof, I just attempted to spell brain "brian"). Therefore, I have neither the gumption or will power to write anything too exciting. PLUS, Blogger tells me I have new followers but I can't see who the hell they are. So...welcome new followers and know that it's not because I don't love you, but that Blogger does not love you.

If I don't have the willpower to write anything interesting, then why, you ask, am I still writing? Because I want to showcase all the hysterical/interesting people out there that will do my job for me for today. Here are some blogs I follow and I highly recommend you check them out.

The Bloggess: Be forewarned, I do not claim responsibility if you pee your pants from laughing too hard while reading this blog. My favorite blog to follow. In fact, check this post about mushroom boobies. I mean, who doesn't like mushroom boobies?

Bye Bye Pie: This woman cracks me up and I can't help but love all the photos of her cats and dog. :)

Mommy Wants Vodka: A mommy blog, but don't fool yourself into thinking that means lame. You have to have a sense of humor to be a parent.

Wendi Aarons: Another mommy blog. What? Moms are funny!

Chelsea Talks Smack: A newer blog I've run across and this chick is funny!

Life, Love and Wine: I was friends with this writer while in college, but now we've discovered we're blogging buddies which is just way cooler than college buddies. She is funny and she has great receipes, which I would totally use if I knew how to cook.

There are lots of other blogs I follow, but I didn't feel like overwhelming you. Oooh! Here's an idea. How about I start monthly featuring a blog? Everyone can submit their favorite blogs for suggestions and if I deem it worthy, I'll introduce all my followers (yeah, the ones I can't see) to a new blog every month! Send me your suggestions!

So Long and Thanks for All the Fish

2009-09-12T19:41:00.000+01:00

Goodbye's are never easy, especially when there are so many wonderful people in your life. At the risk of sounding sappy, I consider myself blessed when it comes to friends and family and that makes this process all the harder.

Last week was my last night out with my tribal dance ladies and I'm already suffering withdraw. Last night was my last night out in Portland and I was forced to say "so long" to too many people. Friends from college and others I've picked up along the way since all showed up to see me out in style. And by style, I mean by drinking copious amount of liqueur and beer. To all my Portland friends: I will miss you more than I can express. Thank you for being who you are and making my time here in Maine something I'll never forget.

This weekend is the last bit of time I am able to spend with my mother before I leave and this may prove to be the hardest goodbye. She is, always has been and always will be a wonderful support, a great role model, and a beautiful person. I'm lucky to have such a goofy, creative, brilliant, beautiful, and inspiring mother.

And on that note, I'm going to get off the computer and spend some valuable time with my mom and family. (Hoping that the valuable time does not involve getting in trouble for posting that picture!)

THE PRESSURE!

2009-09-11T13:11:00.000+01:00

In an attempt to publicize my blog, which so far has worked as well as shaving a cat in a rainstorm, I joined 20 Something Bloggers, a pretty cool website for people who, like me, have no lives. This morning, I realized that means people might actually read my blog. Now, slow down there, Bucky. Yes I realize ~~my mom~~ people read my blog, and yes I greatly value your patronage, but dude, real people might begin reading my posts. So, I better come up with something good! It goes without saying that this pressure causes my tiny little brain to go blank.

So why do people read blogs anyway? For cheap laughs, right? Or maybe for recipes or homemaking tips if you're into that kind of thing, and let me tell you I am not. Others use it as a marketing and networking tool. I however, have nothing to market other than my own awesomeness. And no, that does not mean that I am going to begin marketing and selling my awesomeness, so you can stop heading down that path right now.
So where does all this leave me and my blog? Self-glorification. Enjoy!

Another blog-related thought I've recently been struggling with: Does anyone else find blogs an invasion of privacy? No, not my own privacy, because let's face it, I have no shame. But the privacy of everyone in your life who somehow always ends up on your blog. I mean, my poor mailman has become the subject of my blog more than once and I'm not sure he'd be ok with that if he knew. Speaking of which, my mailman failed to come to my office today and instead I got my mail thrown at me by Floyd the old guy. This does not please me. What if that means that my mailman happened to stumble across my blog and was so upset, he quit his job! NOOOO! Will blogs ever stop ruining people's lives?!

Probably not. Do I embrace that? Absolutely.

Resist Adultification!

2009-09-10T13:46:00.000+01:00

With my impending move quickly approaching, I was recently reminded of an old note I wrote. I keep being surprised by how fast my life is becoming "adultified." (That's a pretty fun word, non?) Please forgive me if you have read this note before. Then again, who couldn't use a reminder that you can grow old, but you should never grow up.
*********************

Well, here we are folks. Most of my friends have grown up and moved away. They're working as teachers, baristas or various other entry level jobs. Classes, Frisbee on the lawn, partying all night, and movie nights with friends are things of the past. Myself, I got temporarily stuck here in Portland working my own entry level job. Despite various attempts to delay the on-set of adultification, I feel that I'm losing an epic battle. However, I have found a new regiment of activities that has greatly reduced the effects of adultification and I believe there are many of you out there who could use a little help with your own battle.

1. Talk with your mouth wide open: Just in case you were to ever lose your lips or lower jaw in a freak accident, it's good to exercise the ability to speak without them. For an added bonus, hold your lips wide so that not only do you get to practice your talking, but everyone around you gets a glimpse at what your skull looks like.

2. Get EXCITED!!!!: Get excited about the big things, the little things, the in-between things! Shout with glee when you coffee pot is done brewing. Jump excitedly when you get your promotion. Smile as big as possible when your guy/girl hugs you. I've found the best exclamation for excitement (works for any case of excitement) is: WHEEEEE!!! *Works best when shouted by multiple people at the same time.

3. Sing a song about whatever it is you are doing at any particular moment: Resist the adult habit of attempting to make a rhyming song, or even a song with a coherent melody if that requires too much thinking. Just start signing. "First you need the mayo, then you need to mustard. TURKEY! Put on some TURKEY! Cheedar chesse. Cheedar cheese. Now you've got a SANDWICH!"

4. Make faces at yourself in the mirror: Rather than criticize the fact that your nose is too big and your eyebrows look like flattened monkeys, make a funny face. Stick out your tongue, cross your eyes, and make that funny looking person in the mirror laugh.

5. Pretend to be someone else: "There is no Dana, only Zhoul." Start talking in a funny voice (bonus points for most creative voice) and avoid at all cost the word "I." Freak out friends, bother loved ones, and annoy co-workers.

6. Repeat game: You all remember this game. Just repeat everything another person says. However, always be aware of when said person begins to say things like "I'm stupid." At which point adjust accordingly. For they are stupid to think you'll fall for that.

7. Talk to yourself: This activity proves to be most effective at work. Just say aloud everything you think....well...almost everything. Be warned that I take no responsibility for trouble you may get yourself into when performing this exercise.

8. Lobster hands: Cross your fingers, then cross your pinky and ring fingers. Voila! Lobster hands. Now, perform your normal daily tasks. Makes the day ten times more exciting.

9. Be a GOD among animals: This is a tricky one, because you must first find your talent. For example, my father is the God of squirrels. He simply makes a sound like a squirrel in the middle of Boston Commons, and amazingly every squirrel in the park begins running toward him. Chickens work too if you find you can make a convincing chicken noise, like my mother. And yes, it was pointed out that I do have a very convincing pig noise, but we won't go into details. (My family has many talents) However, for those of you who do not have an innate animal noise talent, gnats are attracted by the sound of low humming. The next time you're outside and you notice gnats swarming, make a low humming sounds and they will flock to you. So, take your pick: a bunch of squirrels, chickens, pigs, or gnats.

10. Test the limits of your peripheral vision: Stare straight ahead and see how far your peripheral vision goes using your fingers. Better yet, talk to people using your peripheral vision.

11. Namecalling: Just begin by insulting friends and family by thinking of the dumbest name ever. Poopface, BeetleButt, Huntington VonSnufflegas, Bumwaller, Son of a hampster, etc etc.

12. Cross your eyes: My favorite, and easiest anti-adultification trick. Cross your eyes! Talk to people with your eyes crossed or play with crossing and un-crossing them and watching the chair in front of you divide into two chairs and magically fuse back into one. Also, when talking to someone, stare at only the right or left twin, and you appear to be crossing only one eye to them. Magnificent.

Hopefully, as I test new activities, I will add to this list. However, this should be plenty to get you started on your path to recovery.

Best of Luck Giggles McFartington

Cop Out Wednesday

2009-09-09T14:10:00.000+01:00

Yeah, it's one of those days.

T-minus 10 days!!

2009-09-08T14:51:00.000+01:00

As you may or may not have noticed, my name is now Boots McGee. Why? To honor my dad's original request when I was born to name me Boots, which was thwarted by my mother (shame), and because Boots McGee is ten times better than Boots alone.

Doesn't the name Boots McGee conjure images of a nice old hobo whose spent his days hopping the rail, spending evenings around a barrel fire, and stabbing people who look at him funny? Yea, I know! His sidekick and hobo'ing buddy is BeBop Jones. BeBop tends to keep Boots McGee in line, as BeBop is a delightful old man from New Orleans who just wants to play his jazz and is really not into stabbing people. They make a great duo, perfect for a sitcom series in which BeBop is always getting Boots out of trouble and every show ends with BeBop laughing off Boot's anticts and launching into a jazz solo on the trumpet. It will be a hit and I'll be rich baby, RICH! I'd say I won't forget the little people who helped get me where I am, but that'd be a lie. I probably will forget you until I've wasted all my riches on women and drugs and then I'll miraculously remember all the little people and come crawling back asking for some help, man. Just help a brother get back on his feet...or a sister on her feet...whatever. You get the point.

So. Yeah. What was I talking about? London! 10 days! EEEP!

FREEDOM!!

2009-09-05T23:33:00.000+01:00

I just found out that "Alexandra" means defender/protector of mankind.

You're welcome in advance.

A discussion of this find with my parents led them to inform me that I was almost called Boots instead. My dad fought hard but for some reason couldn't convince my mom that Boots was an acceptable girl's name.

I am so disappointed. I totally look like a Boots too! Boots the Awesome. Yeah. New nickname!

I really didn't want to go there...but I did anyway

2009-09-04T17:05:00.000+01:00

I really didn't want to get political in this blog AND I really didn't want to post two in one day...but I can't help but comment on what I just came across.

A recent Yahoo! News article spoke of conservative parents and their outrage that president Obama wants to address the students of the country directly. The parents are complaining and "calling the speech an excuse to brainwash American children."

So, reading this article, I'm intrigued. What is president Obama going to talk about? Health Care? Sex Ed? The economy?

"I'm going to be making a big speech to young people all across the country about the importance of education; about the importance of staying in school; how we want to improve our education system and why it’s so important for the country. So I hope everybody tunes in."

What?! CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME HOW THAT IS BRAINWASHING?! Don't even conservative parents want their kids to be educated?! How can there be a subliminal liberal message in "stay in school?"

Then again, the more educated you are, the less likely you are to believe the crap that the extreme conservatives feed the uneducated masses, like "public option health care will kill the elderly."

Fish ARE funny in fact

2009-09-04T13:53:00.000+01:00

You know that "T9" feature on your phone that guesses what words you're trying to text, which (generally) helps you text faster if you don't have a keyboard phone?

Yeah, I love it and I love it even more after I discovered a flaw, which in fact makes it that much more awesome.

When I find something funny, online or on a text, I REFUSE to say LOL. Some of the time, I'm not actually laughing out loud, but I refuse to use it mostly on principle. Therefore, I have developed a highly complicated system of "ha"s to inform those I'm texting/chatting with how funny I may find something. You may already be familiar with this system.

ha = I really don't find that funny at all, but figure I should say something to shut you up
haha = mildly amusing, but barely enough to crack a smile
hahaha =I'm definitely smiling
hahahahah =you made me giggle
hahahahahahahaha = Ok, ok, you cracked me up!
hahahahahahahahahaha (pause and then either on a second line of chat, or a second text) hahahahahahaha =I think I just peed alittle.

So, what does this have to do with the texting function on my phone? If someone texted me something I at least found funny enough to type "haha," the combination of buttons I pushed caused my phone to assume I was saying the word ichthyologist.

You heard (or rather saw) correctly. Ichthyologist.

First off. The fact that my phone thinks that's the most likely word I'd be typing with the combination of "424" is hysterical. SECOND: that my phone even knows what the hell that word is!

I mean really! Who has ever found themselves texting the word ichthyologist? Maybe if while taking a romantic walk down the beach you came across a dead fish and needed to know what type of fish it was, just in case it was edible. But even still, would you type to your buddy "OMG! found dead fish. know ne good ichthyologists? LOL" or would you be texting your local ichthyologist, in which case you wouldn't need to actually type the word?! And yes, I'm assuming everyone has an ichthyologist friend. I mean, why not?

It goes without saying that I've now texted it, but that's only because it popped up and I thought that was WAY funnier than "hahaha."

So...all this to say that if you ever receive a text from me with just the word ichthyologist, then it means I've most likely found your last text to be amusing, but not as amusing as an ichthyologist.

Music is Experience

2009-09-03T17:07:00.000+01:00

**Nerdy Blog Post Warning**

I came across this story (as told by Bobby McFerrin) about a trip to Botswana made by Yo-Yo Ma and I thought I would share. This is what music means to me and why my life will forever be devoted to it.

"...[Yo-Yo Ma] went to Africa and he went to Botswana, he went to not a town but sort of out in a village somewhere. Lots and lots and lots of music-making and what have you. But in the beginning, there’s two stories that defined and shaped my musical life ever since I had heard them. “Well,” I thought “I have to make music like that.”

The first story is where when he arrived in this village, there was an interpreter who was trying to explain to the villagers that Yo-Yo Ma was going to play a concert at 7:30 at this place somewhere. And they had a hard time comprehending this for two reasons. One, they didn’t understand why they had to wait to hear music. Why did we have to wait to hear him play? And why do we have to leave where we are to go somewhere else to hear it. Because music was so integrated in their life. They had no concept of performance because music was so much a part of their lives, that there was no such thing as it. People were simply getting together and playing and they were celebrating everything. They were celebrating life, birth, harvest, hunting, you know, everything. So this I thought, “Okay I want to be the kind of musician where music is with me whether I’m on stage or not.” And when I’m on stage there’s nothing different except maybe the space. But what I’ve taken on stage with me is the same, it’s not different, it’s just being myself, the same self that I am just when I’m just getting out of bed in the morning, It’s the same musical self that I take with me on stage.

The second story is this: when Yo-Yo wanted to leave, when it was time to go—he’d been there for a couple of weeks, I think—he wanted to take some music with him to remind him about the experience. And the village shaman shared one of the village songs, and Yo Yo took out his manuscript so he could write it down. And the shaman is saying (singing notes) and Yo-Yo said, “Stop, I need to write this down.” So he writes it down. And he says, “Play it again, I want to make sure I got this right.” And the shaman sings (sings notes). And Yo Yo is saying But that’s not the piece you sang before. The shaman laughed and said “The first time I sang it there was a herd of antelope in the distance and a cloud was passing over the sun.” So this is the part that we lost. Every time a piece of music is played, one time there is a herd of antelope, and one time there’s not. And we turn in these cookie-cutter performances. Everything is so laid down and regimented and locked-in and so rehearsed, that they squeeze the life out of it. It no longer has any life in it because no one is open to surprise, no one is open to any spontaneous event that can happen. Everything is just dictated, and this is the way it’s gonna be. I think that’s the part that we’ve lost."

See the video of this interview.

Visa Update: I GOT IT!!

2009-09-02T16:45:00.000+01:00

After writing my bitchy post this morning, I emailed the consulate saying "WTF! You're taking too long!"

I just got an email back and my Visa is in the mail.

Win. SUCK IT UK!