Archive for January, 2009

[belated] Round 2

Today  marks two weeks from my fully-functioning arrival, and to be honest, I thought I’d at least have written once or twice by now. Goodness knows plenty has happened!

I am fully embroiled in the land of English Lit classes, for one. It’s nearly ridiculous how much reading I have to do all the time; though, since I’m only actually in class for what, seven hours a week, I guess that’s to be expected. I’ve also returned to work at the mall, even had a work dinner last night at a semi-gimmicky place called Fatso’s that served EPIC burgers of deliciousness! With CURLY FRIES, WIN!

On a far less exciting note, I think I’ve left my cell phone* on the bus on my way to work this week. Optimistic me, however, notes that this would be an excellent time to move my patronage from a pay-as-you-go O2 phone to a SKYPE PHONE! Basically, it will be amazing. I’ll be able to use skype for free via my phone…so, I’ll be able to call the states for, at most, 2¢ a minute. And well, since I accidentally spent £8 on a call to a certain Jaime, that skype rate sounds pretty fucking awesome. Silver lining for the win!

D5 now lacks a certain Maggie McBride, which is too sad to really write about. I miss her in epic, illogical proportions. But again with the silver lining: the new flatmates, who don’t really even feel new anymore, are amazing. Basically D5 has the best people luck on the planet.

Lots of those English people, for the record, have developed a certain affinity for the phrase “to be honest” / “to be fair”. Maybe I just didn’t notice it last term…but I swear, I must hear somebody say one of those two phrases AT LEAST three times a day. So there you have it, yet another linguistic discovery from a foreigner.

And completely unrelated, another incident of me being ridiculous:

The other evening I had the pleasure of lacking any semblance of balance and falling headfirst into a thorn bush. I survived just fine, though I look like I got attacked by my cat Angus up my entire left side. The next morning, I’d invited my friend Eleanor back to my flat after class for some tea, and I decided to regal her with my tale of failure. It was pretty theatrical and I was really enjoying myself when suddenly Eleanor’s eyes got huge and she just busted up laughing out of nowhere. Amidst the ridiculous laughing, I catch three incredulous words: “That was YOU??”

Apparently, Eleanor’s flat has quite a nice view of the thorn bush into which I fell. And well, as fate would have it, Eleanor and her entire flat was sitting in the kitchen of her flat chatting away when I had my little shenanigan. And, wouldn’t you know it, they watched me flounder in the thorn bush until I found my way out, and had a great laugh about it. What can I say, apparently I live to entertain!

Oh, and one more note before I ditch Konsuke for some breakfast. I am in love with one of my lit professors. He’s basically a poor man’s David Bowie, and listening to him lecture is the highlight of my week. Seriously. If it didn’t sound so creepy, I’d snap a picture all spy-status to prove my point.

Alas, while I may be many things…I’m not THAT insane.

*Resisted the urge to say mobile.

21 hours of sleep.

The first time I flew over here back in September,  I took a 3:25 flight out of SFO on a Friday afternoon. When I arrived in Norwich at 5:00 the next evening I was a little disoriented, but I don’t remember any sort of undue jetlag.

What I certainly don’t remember is spending the next 21 hours asleep, which is what happened after I arrived yesterday afternoon. I didn’t even know that you could sleep 21 hours straight. Maybe you’d get through about 10 hours, wake up, and consciously decide to waste more time sleeping, but seriously…I went to “take a nap” last night at 5:00 and I didn’t wake up till 2:15 this afternoon. That’s 21 hours of solid sleep.

Anyway. I’ve had my share of sleep for the day, and I’ve officially decided that all that sleep was a combination of jetlag and my undue amount of left-over stress from break. The loan check, which I did a fantastic job of forgetting to bring to the states with me when I left December 15th, arrived at my house today, go figure, the morning after I leave (thank you, Laura favorite-person Wells for sending it my way in the first place! =]). So that’s that much I don’t have to worry about, and I have another day of peace till classes (and work, most likely) kick in on Monday.

That day of peace includes much catching up with all of the great people I’ve spent the last month missing – all of my flatmates, who have by now mostly trickled back into halls. All we’re missing at the moment are Zach and Sharaz – that’s not counting Maggie and Prue, the former of which, as a study abroad-er, will not be returning this term (FAIL), and the latter of which will arrive WEDNESDAY!!! for her wondrous class-less stay in D5. Dinner sign-ups are already posted on the fridge, we’ve already met the two awesome new flatmates, and as far as I know, we already have plans to go out this evening. So pretty much, round two has begun!

Oh, and because apparently no round two would be complete without one, I’ve managed to bring my flute back over with me [?!]. Yeah, you’re probably wondering how big (and over-stuffed) my suitcase must have been for my flute to be in it without me even knowing…but somehow, my suitcase is big enough, and it happened. This would be even more funny if I hadn’t spent an hour with my sister Kelly trying to unpack my 70 lb suitcase down to a fine-less 50 lbs yesterday morning (or would that be Thursday morning…?), and in the process of “Well, I guess I don’t need this shirt…” left 20 lbs of fluteless, awesome clothing on the floor of my room in California.

So yeah. That’s two equal portions of funny and fail. I guess, as my mom said, now I have my flute around, “should the mood ever take me”.

And for all of you who just went American Pie on me, I think she meant something along the lines of joining the orchestra.

Random! On the plane flight over, I had the glorious advantage of a personal TV on which to watch any of fifty or so provided movies.  About six hours into the flight, I happened on Vicky Cristina Barcelona – a Woody Allen film that, much to my surprise, I actually enjoyed! I saw Match Point with Sammi a few summers ago and after that one wasn’t much of a Woody Allen fan. VCB was much more fun, and made me want to go to Spain. Which, now that I’m in the UK again, is that much closer to a possibility!

Oh my gosh, being here…it is so amazing to FINALLY not be stressed about anything!

And on that thought, it’s time to revel.

Deja vou?

So I’m not exactly back in England yet, I know.

And it hasn’t really been a month since I left, I know.

But…I go back to school, to England, to the most incredible floor, in three days. Can you blame me for being a little premature in my excitement? The answer to that question, by the way, is no. There’s no way I can be excited too early, or excited too much, or any such concept of excitement in excess.

Do you know why? Because in three days, Round 2 starts, and I’m ready to blog about it right this instant, like the ridiculous person I am. Hopefully at least one of you enjoys the reading.



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photo cred to myself and Maggie J. Moxie