Fine Dining, This Time with a Touch of Tongue.

So last evening, the plan was to stay in, with the express aim of saving money.

Anyone who knows me, however, knows how incredibly hard it is to tempt me into going out when I've made up my mind to stay in.

(Hint: not very.)

Me: I'm staying in this evening. I need to save money.
Alexis: Oh come with us, we're just getting dinner and a drink. I love spending time with you!
Me: I hate you. Also, I'm going to go get dressed.

Since we were just off to dinner and a drink, we all decided dressing up was not necessary. For those of you who know me as I am in the States, you know anything that isn't Nebraska sweats and an APhi shirt is dressing up. That, however, has had to change, as I have seen perhaps one person wearing sweats they entire time I have been here. And I thought that they looked sloppy. Because people do not wear sweats here. Nor do they seem to be too incredibly fond of trousers.

Which brings me to two side notes: Pants are trousers, NOT PANTS. Pants are underwear, and people feel really weird if you talk about them.

Side note within a side note: This evening, at the pub, I looked down and noticed my pint of cider had left a ring on my jeans. To which I said, ''Damn, there's a wet ring on my pants. TROUSERS.'' Of course, I do this the one time I'm out with actual Brits. He looked properly shocked until he figured it out.

Real side note 2: British fashion. Girls here seem to think slightly long shirt means acceptable to wear with tights (or, in many cases, acceptable to wear. END SENTENCE.) The girls here dress... provocatively, to put it nicely. They also love glitter.

But oh yes, I believe up there... no, no, further up there. Scroll some more now. Brilliant. Yes, way up there I began a story, which I will finish down here. Stop scrolling.

Well maybe a bit more.

ANYWAYS. So we went to the Red Lion to have a sip and a bite, but they had since stopped supplying things to bite, so we just got a pitcher and took in the local wildlife. Then we went wandering in search of food, and stumbled upon a pizza kitchen and went in there. We got sat at a booth right on the corner with the huggeee window. All goes well, I order some prawn -- which is a distinctly unappetizing term for shrimp. I don't know why the word bothers me so horrendously much, but it does. PRAWN. I feel like it should be said in a raspy, demonic voice with glared eyes.

But yes. So first we witness this man who is stumbling all about. We're have a good giggle, and talking of how we don't think we've ever been that dr -- OH MY GOD DID HE JUST PASS OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET?! (Side note: him being in the street wasn't cause for concern, because they whole street/sidewalk divide appears to get confused here.)

So, Mr. Drunken Man is laying in the middle of the street (we had a fantastic view of his ass, pants only half covering it) and NO ONE IS EVEN BATTING AN EYE. Finally two guys come up and get him on his way, I suppose...I can't imagine he even knew what his way was. But he left our view from the window.

Then, we have the boys who came up and were banging on the window. This had happened a few times throughout the meal, so we ignored them like good little girls. Then. THEN. He LICKED the window. He LICKED the BLOODY WINDOW to get our attention.

Then he left. And I was left eating my prawns with saliva dripping two feet from my head as a horrible reminder of the debauchery that had just occurred.

Today is interesting, if not as entertaining.

I had my first proper English tea! I had a little pot all my own filled with English Breakfast tea, in which I put two lumps of sugar and cream. I also got two scones (which aren't quite the same as scones in America -- these looked like english muffins, had a biscuit consistency, but were sweet.) with clotted cream. I haven't quite figured out what it is, but it's delicious. Something like butter.

So we had our tea, I read and fell asleep atop my textbook AGAIN, and then we went to auditions for Oxford University Light Entertainment Society, or OULES. Alexis convinced me to go give it a try, since I also wished I had gotten involved in theatre. So I went, and I found the people involved to be quite fun, since of course we went to the pub after auditions. Wednesday is when we next meet, and I suppose when we see if we were cast.

Anyways. I have a favour to request. If you're reading this, post some silly little comment in the section, just so I know the who's reading thing. So go on, de-lurk. Cheers!