The typically anti-climactic adventures of Lisa

Accents

2008-04-07T15:52:00.004+01:00

Hopefully it doesn't come as much of a surprise to you to know that people generally don't like Americans. It's partially our mannerisms and mostly our government that really gives us the bad reputation. So, if you're smart, you try not to make it too obvious that you're american. That is, don't talk so loudly, don't be so obnoxious, don't wear your George W. fan club shirt, and don't eat more than everyone else around you. Unfortunately, the accent is always a bit of a giveaway.

On a trip from Paris to London, I was talking to the UK police officer at passport control who had no idea I was American until I handed him my passport. This was a good sign for me, nearly passing as British, but since then, I've been able to get by with other ethnicities aside from American.

I don't know Italian, but I do know that Spanish is closer to Italian than English, so whilst in Rome, I opted to try Spanish first, because people don't like you to expect them to know English. At an internet cafe, I was asked if I actually was Spanish, despite handing over a UK university ID in exchange for the use of a computer. While the group was in Tivoli, I went off with a few loud Americans as they searched for toilets. I was clearly with the group and they were clearly American. I stayed behind as the group filtered out and upon ordering a croissant, I was questioned if I was French (although he might have been taking the piss).

According to my flatmates, I don't have a very strong American accent. They met me the same night they met a texan and said I didn't sound American, whereas she did. And I guess my time over here is just pushing me further away from the typical American accent because Lee's newest flatmate is from California and she thought I was from Northern Ireland as well.

So for all of you who told me to come back with an accent, it appears I might be doing so, even though I haven't really been trying. Although, due to certain circumstances, it might be a bit more of a Northern Irish accent than an English one.

Important note: English muffins are different from the American version and so much better. And chips (British french fries with more potato) are highly addicting, especially when there's a chip shop just down the road.

Ciao

2008-03-29T18:36:00.002Z

Being told that you have to get a bus at 2.30am never bodes well. The university organised the trip to Rome and, of course, went budget with the airline. Our flight left at 6.30am from an airport approximately an hour away from Leicester, and I had to walk a mile to catch the bus to the airport at 2am. Typically, the walk doesn't take long, but I was clearly carrying more than I needed to. However, I did make it to the bus and endured one of the worst bus rides of my life. Then, at the airport, I was fortunate enough to discover the weight limits enforced by budget airlines. Feeling I had packed light, I wasn't too worried about this, until I put my bag on the scale to discover it was 6kg over the limit. 15 minutes and 45GBP (approximately $90), I had checked my bag and was not in a very good mood. Nor was I happy when my bag was pulled to be inspected because I had tubes of mascara and lipstick in it. In order to keep these things (along with some medications), I had to buy a specific type of plastic bag. After that ordeal, I was not looking forward to going to Rome, and I feel that the journey there was just a set-up for what I was going to have to endure.

To begin with, I hate tour groups. A 2-day tour to Toronto nearly killed me, and this one was supposed to last a week. Not only that, the incredibly unorganised University of Leicester was in charge. This meant that when we did get to Rome, our coach dropped us off half a mile from our hotel, forcing all of us to haul our cases through the streets. The hotel didn't have our rooms ready, and the university hadn't put a down-payment on them, so every person had to shell out 10 euros to cover the university's mistake. My room itself wasn't too bad. It had enough room and there was a fridge, so that was nice. I did have one slight problem, and that was the one room mate who was a loud sleeper. A week without sleep didn't treat me very well.

I wanted to go to Italy mainly because I like Italian food. The hotel's breakfast was a pathetic excuse of an attempt to feed anyone. Stale bread, some cheese, ham, bad drinks and bland cereal was all we were offered for the whole week. For dinner, the university gave us vouchers for a cafeteria-style restaurant in Termini (Rome's train station). The food selection was terrible and never cooked right. I had over-cooked and under-cooked pasta. The only time I ever ate a proper meal was when a few of us decided to skip the free meal and go to a restaurant to get some real Italian pasta, which was excellent. I did manage to have some pizza for lunch a couple of times and that was good, but on the whole, I was horribly disappointed with the food I had in Italy.

The city itself didn't really impress me. It was incredibly dirty and covered with graffiti. The only nice areas are the ones by the huge tourist attractions. And it seemed like Rome is a city that is always going to be covered in scaffolding. The city is constantly falling down and constantly rebuilding itself. There's no glamour in that. The historical aspects are interesting and all, but I didn't find any real aesthetic appeal in the city itself.

My favourite part of the trip was when we left the city. Ostia was gorgeous, especially when we went to the seaside, where I was able to find some soy gelato to try. Tivoli was definitely the nicest area I saw - specifically the Villa d'Este.

Pictures are on flickr, so you can see where I went there. Basically, by the time it came to leave, I was happy to get out of Rome. And I managed to work out a way to get my luggage problem fixed. All is well now.

Holiday

2008-03-15T01:33:00.003Z

I've managed to write two essays, both of 3,000 words, and turn them in 6 weeks ahead of their due dates. This is anti-procrastination. This is me not wanting to think about essays over my holiday, so I won't.

My assessment in two of my classes is just an essay of 3,000 words. None of the lectures really applied to my work - I choose my essay topic, write it, hand it in, and there's 100% of my grade. So I'm officially done with two classes. For my final class, all that remains is a 2,000-word essay due May 9th, which will wait until I've returned from a long, relaxing holiday. Leicester Uni is silly for giving us 5 weeks off to 'revise'. Clearly, in all international students' case, that revision simply doesn't happen.

In other news, another girl has moved into our flat. She couldn't tell I was american from my accent. This is beginning to happen more and more often. I quite like it.

Also, for future reference: I managed to pack for 6 weeks of travel in less than a few hours, and I'm only taking two bags. This might be a record.

I tried to sleep last night and at 2am that fire alarm decided to have a bit of fun with us, ringing, stopping, ringing again... we just stood in our doorways looking at each other with sleep-deprived, disgruntled faces. Life in Nixon Court is always so amusing.

Since it's still the 14th in the States: Happy Pi Day!

Disappointment

2008-03-06T14:21:00.002Z

Ohio:

What went wrong?

Was there a sudden brainwashing? Did Hillary have plastic surgery, become incredibly attractive and put on some sex appeal? Did Obama die and somehow the news was not spread throughout the world?

I have lost faith in you, Ohio. It used to be respectable to say you were from Ohio, but now that prestige is gone. Ohio is now amongst the ranks of Texas: nothing good, save for a few rock bands. Pennsylvania could prove to be better than you, Ohio. I never was much of a Browns fan, perhaps I'll take to supporting the Steelers; I'm sure they'd vote Obama.

If I didn't already have a return ticket booked, I wouldn't bother going back to Ohio.

You can add this on the list right after "managed to set the Cuyahoga River on fire". Well done.

York

2008-02-28T14:58:00.002Z

I spent last weekend visiting Chelsea in York. She's going to York St John University. Basically, she's going to Hogwarts. Different sets in the Harry Potter films are based on locations in York, including The Shambles. So, yes, Chelsea is in Harry Potter land, and I'm rather envious.

The picture accompanying this post is The Minster in York. It's huge, to say the least. Chels's university is just on the other side of the wall from the Minster. (My university is just across the street from a graveyard, if you'd care to make a comparison.) Because I had to pay to go into The Minster, I took a ridiculous amount of photographs - several of which are on my Flickr site.

While in York, I went to a pub to watch my first rugby match. I still don't understand exactly understand the sport, nor the indescribable fanaticism. I nearly went deaf each time England did anything remotely good. Chels and I were there with the only three people in the pub supporting France - possibly because the girls are from France. They got lots of glares every time they started cheering. Needless to say, I don't get excited by sport. I think those days have definitely passed.

Chels and I also discovered the wonder of flavoured rock candy. It's not the stuff that looks like crystals on a stick (or the sculpture outside the Akron U polymer building). It's just a hard candy with a really good flavour. I bought a bag of it on a whim and had to go back again before I left York to get myself a bit more. It's incredibly addicting. The shop also had a lot of fun chocolates. Unlike the typical chocolate bunny you'd get someone for Easter in the states, you could buy a chocolate duck (with a top hat), fish, car, mobile phone, dog, etc.

We also had a fun night of discovering that Chels's dorm does not have a stove or oven, despite having several kitchens. So the frozen pizza was cooked in the microwave. It came out pretty well, for the most part. It was edible and it was pizza, and when you combine those, it can't be bad. Frozen garlic bread, however, is not as easy to cook in microwaves...

In other news of Leicester goodness, the fire alarm went off in one of the buildings I have classes in, but, unfortunately, went off right after my seminar had ended. Perhaps someone felt a floor vibrate and triggered the alarm in fear of another earthquake. Whatever it was, the timing was terrible and my ears did not appreciate it.

4.7

2008-02-27T01:23:00.002Z

BBC Breaking News

I arrived back in Leicester today and was welcomed by an earthquake. 4.7 on the Richter scale with an epicenter approximately 60 miles from here. That means it felt a bit like a dump truck emptying a load of rocks right next to you and sounds like it.

I was sitting in my room, reading Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, when I felt the building shaking a bit. As it had been a windy day, I was willing to dismiss the dancing of my curtains as mere reaction to the draft from my window, though that didn't explain the vibrations in my floor. But, when you live with lots of university students, you don't really question that sort of thing until everything starts shaking and you can actually hear the rocks shifting in the earth. That's when you realise it's an earthquake, and that you're several floors up - but you're in England, so there's really nothing to worry about.

USGS has official seismic activity here - in case you don't believe that there was an earthquake in England. (Being a geology nerd, I went here first and managed to get all of the geological information before the news stations had it. I've decided that's more sad than special.)

How are the english people coping? They're all on their mobiles - or in the car park wondering if it's safe to come back inside the building. (While the fire alarms won't get them out there, at least an earthquake will.) And I'm guessing a lot of them are throwing earthquake parties now, just because this offers another reason for people to buy another round: cheers to surviving an earthquake!

While I've explained to them that the likeliness of it happening again is very slim (as we are not near any fault lines), most people preferred my advice of staying in a door frame so that nothing will fall on them. I'm hoping they're not going to try to sleep there.

America...

2008-02-21T17:22:00.008Z

I voted. :]

I know I'm not very patriotic, but I do care who's representing the states. Right now, America looks ridiculous to the international community because George W. Bush is ridiculous. No one over here likes him, and you'd be surprised how many people know about american politics in Europe. To be honest, I think europeans are often more informed about what's going on in America than americans are. That's probably because of the way the american media contrasts from international medias.

To realise how prevalent America is in today's society, just visit BBC News and look at all the section pages. America is typically in some sort of story on every single continent. Is that a good thing? I don't know. The fact that most people don't look as fondly on America as they used to should say something. The age of imperialism is over, yet there's America, meddling about, trying to build an empire of capitalism.

Anyways, it's about time someone with some sense in his head was running the country. Hilary Clinton scares me and comes off as the typical manipulative, power-hungry female. Yes, it's about time America had a female president - but not her. It's also about time America had someone in the White House who doesn't fall under the standard white male protestant formula. Do I think Obama can really change the government? No. Not really. I think too much has gone wrong for one simple election to fix. But I think he's a step in the right direction. And at least the guy can give an intelligent speech. I don't think we need another leader who can't pronounce 'nuclear', especially if he's going to make references to such weapons on a frequent basis.

Fact is, most people don't like the US government right now. Spend a week in Europe and you'll realise that America is not necessarily the greatest country in the world. Other countries do have freedoms, have democracy, have Starbucks and McDonalds. There are just as many opportunities in other western societies. It says something when the american dollar isn't worth as much as it used to be. Being an American might get you more from this world than being from a lot of other countries, but it doesn't have the prestige it once did.

The other day I overheard a girl talking to someone, trying to figure out how the american currency works. I stopped to explain pennies, nickles, dimes and quarters - as well as the fact that in America, we don't have near as many coins as the UK does. She expressed to me that she wants to go to New York City. That's one of the few places people in this country have heard about.

I visited the local library and checked out their travel books on America to see where people liked to go: Florida, Hawai'i, New York City, Chicago, Washington D.C. and the west coast. "Is there anything in the middle of the country?" ... and I remember that drive through Ohio, Indiana and Illinois... "No. Mostly corn fields." ... "Where exactly is Ohio?" ... "Somewhere in between New York City and Chicago."

I listened to an english guy try to explain the concept of the 18th Amendment to my American Literature class today. He didn't know the word "Prohibition", let alone the concept of it. "The 18th Amendment, which was like... when there was no alcohol." It was almost as good as the lecture about how "Pioneers had a hard life. They lived in sod houses." It's quaint, really, knowing that if you spent several months travelling across this country in a wagon, you'd end up in the ocean. So much for the Oregon Trail: let's see your oxen try to ford that Mid-Atlantic Ridge.

High-class living

2008-02-18T21:10:00.005Z

I returned from Paris to the following note on my door: "Water will be shut off from 8am to 4pm on Friday 15 March". This meant myself along with 700 other people living in this complex were not going to be able to use our taps, take a shower, or even flush the toilet between those hours.

Somehow, we all survived the Nixon Court water-outage. Most people woke up around 7am to get all of their "water things" done. I tried that. My alarm went off; I went back to sleep. I didn't bother getting out of bed until around noon. Shortly afterwards, the fire alarm went off. I hadn't had my tea just yet, so I merely stood there in a drowsy stupor, wishing the noise would stop. By the time I went to grab my keys and coat, the alarm stopped, and I didn't have to have my breakfast on the curb whilst watching the building burn down.

Clearly, this thing happens quite often. The alarm went off again tonight. After a minute, I signed off all programs on my computer and looked out into the corridor to see what my flatmates were doing, which was the same thing. No one was really resolved on going downstairs until we had evidence of a fire, because the alarm goes off on such a regular basis. One flatmate was still in her bed, rather set on riding out the noise. Another was in the process of deciding if she wanted to order a pizza or not. But after at least 10 minutes, the ringing got to be too much, so we went downstairs. And just as we set foot outside the building, the alarm stopped. One day, there will actually be a fire and everyone in Nixon Court will still be sitting in their beds, plugging their ears.

Of course, this is nothing compared to the time a few weeks ago when the heating was out for over a day. It happened quite suddenly when I was showering: suddenly, there was no hot water. The day turned into a survival of the fittest, challenging all of us to see who could survive the cold the best. The girls in my flat took to the habit of wearing numerous layers of clothing. I attempted to fix the draft coming in my window by closing the curtains and throwing a blanket over them for insulation. Even when the heat finally came back, my room took a while to get to a decent temperature. But Ohio has clearly prepared me for all elements, thankfully.

Yet another Leicester Uni oddity has arisen. The university post office will mail items for you, but they do not have stamps. You have to go elsewhere to purchase stamps. If you have ever heard of any post office not having its own supply of stamps or packaging materials, please inform me to assure me that Leicester Uni isn't as terrible as I think it is. (Stationary post boxes on the sides of roads do not count.)

Discovery of the day: Morrisons (the supermarket I shop at) has Nature Valley granola bars. They have a rather odd selection of flavours, but the Oats 'n' Honey is here. Life is good.

Short Paragraphs on Paris

2008-02-14T21:11:00.002Z

It turned out that the black woman on the metro was NOT talking to me. I'm just a little too unsuspecting to Lee's witty, witty jokes. Needless to say, the woman wasn't speaking French, English or any other language this side of Europe.

I took two trains from Leicester to Paris. One had a girl trying to go on a diet whilst eating crisps for an hour straight; the other, an englishman attempting French. I spent those few hours staring at sheep. They're fluffier here.

I'm not Catholic, but I was allowed to go to the Notre Dame all the same. There are a couple of pictures of it on Flickr, but most turned out fuzzy because I'm anti-camera flash. It burns my eyes.

Lee lives in the southern part of Paris in an incredibly french apartment - as in, the toilet is special enough to have its own room apart from the rest of the bathroom. He's just reprimanded me for sharing his toilet with the internet community. He also makes fun of my accent - for good reason, of course. But at least I pronounce every letter in "shower". What's a "shar"?

Weather here has been much better than Ohio's: very sunny, rather warm. I's nice to be missing those snowstorms this winter. It's even better knowing that breathing the air outside isn't going to make my lungs freeze.

The typical tourist things were covered, and we ate baguettes. The biggest accomplishment was me managing to fall both up and down at the same time. Escalators are fun.

Lee's landlady dropped by whilst he was out getting food. She doesn't speak much English; I don't speak French. We got along rather well.

I did not see Oscar this time around. He was a bit too busy, being dead and all. Apparently dead people only function from 9-5 as well.

Starbucks is the same, except in French. Gatorade does not exist, possibly due to the lack of wild alligators. There's a lot more cheese here, too. Most notably, McDonald's restaurants don't look like slums. They even have bouncers at night. That's probably why french people aren't fat.

When there aren't any strikes going on, the transport system is very efficient - cleaner than the ones in New York and they're able to squeeze more people on (due to lack of obesity).

An important lesson learned: get to the Eurostar station at least 20 minutes before your train is boarding - otherwise you get to run through the station with a bag that's bouncing and mutilating the back of your leg.

It was a really good week in Paris. I miss it already.

Free Pizza

2008-02-05T15:29:00.002Z

I really should just start my introductions in a foreign language, that way when I ask someone "where is the library" and they point to a building right next to me that says "Library", I won't feel so ridiculous.

Leicester's Central Lending Library is a nice walk from my place and conveniently has all the texts not in the university library that I need and don't want to buy. One thing university students rarely think to do is visit the public library. That just makes life easier for me. D.H. Lawrence's "Women in Love": certainly not a horribly poplar reading choice, yet missing from the university library and bookstore shelves. Thanks to my new Leicester library card, it's sitting in my room. And I have books coming from branch libraries -- it feels like being at home again.

I've decided that my flat is a microcosm of Leicester in concern to its population. The city is incredibly diverse. I'm pretty sure most people only come here for Indian cuisine. There are four of us in this flat, all from different cultural backgrounds, and even countries in some cases. Along with learning about their cultures, I'm hoping to pick up some of their study habits because they always seem to have their noses in books. I do, too, but just reading literature doesn't make me look as studious as some of them who constantly have calculus assignments spread out over the kitchen table.

Earlier today, when I came home after a lecture, I walked in to smell garlic and started thinking to myself how nice it would be to have some garlic bread and pizza. One of the girls then walked out of the kitchen and into the corridor carrying a garlic pizza. We stopped to chat a bit and, quite suddenly, the pizza decided that it would be much happier off of her plate and on the floor. I instantly told her to pick it up and by mandate of the 10-second rule, she could still eat it. The idea of eating a pizza that had fallen to the floor did not appeal to her. I brushed off the one or two hairs stuck to it (the cheese wasn't gooey, so no harm there), and told her to just stick it in the microwave for a while if she was concerned about the germs. It took about 10 minutes of me trying to convince her that eating the pizza would in no way kill her, and if she ended up with chlamydia, I would most certainly pay her medical bills. Needless to say, there was no convincing her that the pizza was okay to eat, but instead of throwing it in the bin, she let me have it. So dinner tonight was pizza del pavimento. Eccellente.

I should be posting more pictures of the city of Leicester on flickr in the near future. I've taken to exploring it a bit on my own, always with some sort of eventual destination, and I've tried to force myself to look like a tourist and stop to take a picture or two every once in a while. And my flickr account will soon be overloaded with pictures once I've done a bit more travelling.

I also found oreos in the student store. That was a happy moment. I'm still trying to understand the student union store, though. There's a shelf full of sex toys, a shelf full of gummy candies, an aisle of asian food, rows of school supplies, and cartons of vodka cheaper than a small bottle of fruit juice. Needless to say, I'm going to go broke because I buy strawberry-banana smoothies instead of vodka.

Life in Leicester

2008-02-02T18:20:00.000Z

Meet Henry! He's my hoover. He cleans my floor. Rather, he attempts to -- his sniffing power isn't all that strong. But we're working around that.

I've been in this city for over two weeks, though I can't say I've done too much. My first night here was rather terrifying, being dropped off at a residence hall with absolutely no guidance for how to get my keys. Luckily, it was managed as was the finding of my room.

I'm living in a six-roomed flat, but two of the rooms are vacant. There are three other girls here with me, and they're definitely the best housemates I could ask for. We share a kitchen, sitting area and shower/toilet facilities. Each room has the necessary furniture and a sink. My walls are hideous, but I just try to not look at them.

It took a while to get settled in, to buy everything I needed to survive. In an attempt to purchase the cheapest items possible, I ended up several miles away from home, miserably failing at figuring out the bus system whilst carrying too many bags and standing in the rain. Luckily, I had a mobile by then and Lee was able to get me a number to order a taxi. So I got home okay in the end, only to receive an email about Tiny being put to sleep. Needless to say, my second day in Leicester did not go so well.

Since then, things have slightly improved. I'm taking three classes, Modern American Writing (which really isn't modern, but we won't get into that), Medieval Literature and Victorian to Modern Literature 1870-1945. I only have 8 hours of class a week. Each class has a lecture (or two) and one seminar. The lectures are for over 100 people, while the seminars are approximately 10. I hate the lectures. They are delivered by a professor who types up their entire lesson and reads from a paper with powerpoint going in the background. They're supposedly offering historical and cultural information to assist our readings of the text, but I really get nothing out of them. The seminars are much better: they actually discuss the literature. The education here has really made me miss KSU's approach. At Kent, the professors would use the text to provide all the historical and cultural information in an interesting way, and while they had their lectures planned, they didn't read from a print-out. Basically, they weren't mindlessly presenting information out of context: they were actively engaging in the complete study of literature. Gosh, I miss it. One nice thing is that I'm only assessed by one essay at the end of the term. So it's kind of a low-stress semester until I've discovered that I procrastinated and have to write a 10-page essay in a matter of two days. Here's to hoping that won't actually happen.

Uni aside, I've been having a wonderful time here. I know where to go to buy food. I know how to get to the train station. I know how to use british currency. I can't cook too many types of meals, but that's okay when you have the stomach of a bird. If you're wondering what my views of british foods are so far, I can't say much. I haven't tried anything strange, but I have noticed a few odd things whilst walking through the aisles of the shop. They apparently like rhubarb flavour -- I found rhubarb yoghurt and was a bit put off. The fresh fruit selection isn't quite the same, but I'm still able to get my apples and bananas. That means I'm not getting scurvy, mum. Also, for the record, all peanut butter is inferior to JIF. Thank you, family, for sending me a jar!

As for exciting things that have occurred, Lee came from Paris to visit for a few days. A band we both like, Blood Red Shoes, played in Leicester so we went to that together. It was a really great gig and we were fortunate enough to push our way up to the front of a mass of people in the bar (this means I could actually see the stage). We also happen to like each other, so we are together. (That would be my way of avoiding sappy stories, hah.)

But now I must return to planning trips and convincing myself that I should do some work for my classes. And for anyone who hasn't noticed, I have posted a link on the right side of this page entitled "Flickr Photos". I have most of the pictures I've taken in London and at the Blood Red Shoes gig up and that's the page where I'll be putting all of my pictures.

2008-01-24T08:51:00.001Z

I'm going to write again when I have something to say aside from complete annoyance with this university.

For everyone back at KSU, send my love to the English Department -- they're probably the best teaching staff I've ever had, and I really miss them right now. Leicester's lectures on literature make me understand more about the dullness of life than about literary merit.

Aside from uni and the lack of proper junk food, I am enjoying England. I have really great flatmates and they've been incredibly helpful. And the weather isn't really all that bad. The exchange rate, however....

London

2008-01-17T23:58:00.000Z

There's no way to sum up three days of London. I'll use short sentences.

People drive like they're insane.

People have better accents than me.

The buildings are much prettier.

The streets are much narrower.

The people are much skinnier.

They're all runners, too.

Our hotel was in the center of London, just around the corner from Big Ben, Westminster Abbey and 2 Starbucks. Basically, the ideal location. As for the hotel itself: Leicester definitely wanted us to stay there in order to better appreciate the university accommodations. I have never taken such uncomfortable showers. The first night, the faucet on the tub had a leak, so we had massive puddles to splash in.

Went down the Thames on a boat.

Saw an amish hat in the Thames.

Pretty sure a guy died.

Went to the Tower of London.

Saw the execution area.

Positive that someone died.

We went to bed early that night, hoping to combat jet lag. It didn't work out as well as we had hoped, at least for me.

Day two was long and rainy. I gawked at Buckingham Palace, visited dead people at Westminster Abbey, ate lunch with some pigeons, got lost in east London, was baffled by british apple pie and spent a bit too much bonding time with my new mobile. I also discovered that the toe I thought I broke several weeks ago really is broken. I don't recommend walking tours on broken toes, especially when they last 12 hours, unless you want to see your toe as a swollen ball of redness, which I will admit is kind of funny. It's like walking around on something that looks like cherry tomatoes. I also got to stand on Charles Dickens' grave and laugh at him. That was a great feeling.

The group went on a tour about Jack the Ripper. Afterward, the guide went off, probably to kill someone, and left us with directions to the nearest tube. That tube was under construction. A ten minute walk produced a tube station where we caught a train and I lost my umbrella. (Losing umbrellas is becoming a trend for me.)

Day three I saw the fake Globe theatre and the Tate Modern Museum of art. Most of the day was spent in traffic trying to get to Leicester. I carried my luggage more. I almost have arm muscles.

Terminal thoughts

2008-01-17T23:31:00.000Z

Written on January 14th:

"Cleveland - Current threat level: orange"

Wi-fi at Cleveland-Hopkins airport has fallen victim to that brute capitalism. Yes, your wireless says it has a signla. Yes, it says it has connected. But only AT&T subscribers can access any websites outside of a "welcome" page. I have to pay to use the airport's wireless network, and I'm too cheap to do it.

My neck is already slightly sore from the walk through the various terminals. For half of it, I ended up walking with a policeman because he thought I was a lost child.

"Are you travelling with your parents?" he asked.

It's always a bit scary to be approached by a police officer, especially when he's asking you questions.

"No, I'm by myself," I replied.

"Sorry," he said. "You just look really young."

I then got to tell him that I was twenty. And as we walked toward my gate, I was told how lucky I am to look so young, which I'm sure will continue to happen for more years than I can possibly imagine. Needless to say, no one else bothers you when you're already walking with a police officer. It does wonders. I highly recommend it.

And now I take to my favourite past-time of people-watching.

Thank God Kurt is with me.

-------------------------------

"Washington, D.C. - the layover"

Everyone at this airport is either late for their plane, racing or getting in their daily jog. Anyone not running is currently blocking the terminal whilst trying to get on the plane to Frankfurt.

My last view of the United States: incredibly cloudy skies.

My last meal in the United States: Wendy's. (Someone please tell dad.)

--------------------------------

The flight can be summed up as 7 hours long with a screaming baby in front of the cabin and a 4-year-old aussie kicking the back of my seat. Sleep was sparse. The in-flight meal was slightly better than microwave manicotti, only because it probably didn't have freezer burn when bought. And because the screen in front of me terrified me a bit, I didn't watch the films, but did listen to lots of music. It was a fair trade.

Flying over London at 6am is excellent.

---------------------------------

Customs at 6am is not excellent.

"Why are you coming to the UK?" is not a question I can answer on no sleep. "Because I don't like George W. Bush" is not a proper reply. Somehow, I got in. (I might be exaggerating about mentioning Mr. Bush.)

Because our flight arrived at Heathrow so early, we ended up sitting around, waiting for the bus to Leicester for 4 hours. Heathrow airport is slightly more exciting, possibly because people were going other places than Frankfurt. And thanks to that extensive bench-dwelling, I now know the routine of the waterman at Heathrow.

Current muscle size: one level above invisible.

Real-life Tetris

2008-01-08T01:07:00.000Z

I received my plane ticket in the mail today. It still doesn't feel like I'm leaving on Sunday, but looking at that ticket and my half-packed luggage should set in eventually. Or maybe it won't really hit me until I'm not hearing those flat midwestern accents around me all the time, save for when I'm speaking.

I'm still trying to figure out how to pack for England. With the dollar as weak as it is, I wish I could just pack up my whole room and not worry about having to buy anything but food over there. But airplanes have cargo space limitations, and I only have so much upper-body strength. It's all rather disheartening to me when I discover myself holding a pair of shoes, trying to reason out if I'll wear them or not in the next 4 months. It will be worse if I arrive in England to find that I've packed those unnecessary red shoes but have forgotten to pack a toothbrush, especially if I have no shirts that match the red shoes. This is also why I find life to be far more troubling in a feminine mindset.

Packing is a little more than shirts, shoes and toothbrushes, though. It's more the task of fitting your life into a very small space. The security people who go through my bags at the airport are going to learn everything there is to know about me: from learning my size to questioning why I packed so many books yet forgot deodorant. (They clearly have a stalker's dream job.)

I wish I had Mary Poppins's handbag. I also wish I had the Tetris soundtrack to go along with this daunting task.

Happy New Year, Mr. Vonnegut!

2008-01-02T22:10:00.000Z

It's 2008. I'm leaving in 11 days, so I find myself staring at that luggage a little more intently, wondering when I should start putting things in it. My current list of necessities includes:

Kurt Vonnegut books

Oversized tea cups

My shark stapler

Post-it notes

Socks

I'm pretty sure that's all I'll need to survive. I could probably go down to just Kurt Vonnegut and socks, but I'd like some tea to drink whilst reading, and, in case I read too much, I'll need a stapler and post-its to repair the books.

I suppose this might be a sign that I'm more concerned about my books' well-being instead of my own. I finally feel like an English major and I'm almost prepared to become a travelling Vonnegut library.

Fruit

2007-12-18T02:39:00.000Z

While discussing the situation of my finances for overseas, I expressed that I won't need much money for food. I told my mother that I intend to live off of rice, pasta and potatoes. Mum reminded me that if I don't eat my fruit, I'll get scurvy.

Children, remember: mothers are good for you because they are always trying to prevent scurvy attacks.

Setup

2007-12-08T03:03:00.000Z

This is a blog for when I am in Europe. I'm not in Europe right now; that comes in a month. Until then, anyone directed toward this page is going to have to deal with absolute drabbiness. I apologise.