So last night, one of the funniest things yet happened. A bunch of us are sitting around at the Red Lion, a pub with nice cheap mixed drink pitchers, with two British guys and an Australian. So one of the British guys turns to me, and the following exchange occurs:
British guy: So, have you been to the McDonalds here yet?
Me: Er, yes, actually. (What? After a few drinks we wanted Big Macs (Aleks and Alexis) and McNuggets (me). Sometimes you need something other than chips and cheese.)(Chips being fries.)
BG: What did you think of it? Was it different than in the States?
Me: Not really. Although we don't have onion rings at our McDonalds. (Seriously American McDs, get on that.)
BG: Isn't it like a kind of nice, established restaurant over there?
Me: Confused expression, mouth slightly agape.
BG: You know, not just like, shitty fast food?
Me: (In between dying of laughter) Are you being serious?
BG: Yeah, I really thought it was like an actual restaurant.
Me: I'm sorry, I'm not mocking you, but everyone else needs to hear about this.
So I then proceeded to turn and tell all my fellow colonists what had just gone on, to which we all had a good laugh. So. There we have it. Apparently the British think McDonalds is a quality restaurant over in the States.
So we went out last evening, to the Red Lion and then to the Bridge. Perhaps it's better on Monday nights, but I found it to just be kind of expensive and full of creepers. Not my favourite, I like Thirst far better.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Foreign Language Study Program
I am now displeased with the fact that I was ineligible for most study abroad scholarships.
Most the scholarships are for foreign language.
England, in some instances, speaks a foreign language.
Anywhere I order a bacon, mozzarella and pesto panini and get whatever the hell meat was on the panini I just ate, is obviously not speaking English.
I don't think delicious, crispy, fatty bacon exists in England. Just this weird salty ham cut.
THIS PLACE HAS NO BACON, I'M TURNING AROUND AND LEAVING.
(Not in actuality, I still absolutely adore Oxford. But seriously, this no bacon thing is a strike. I REALLY LIKE MY BACON.)
Most the scholarships are for foreign language.
England, in some instances, speaks a foreign language.
Anywhere I order a bacon, mozzarella and pesto panini and get whatever the hell meat was on the panini I just ate, is obviously not speaking English.
I don't think delicious, crispy, fatty bacon exists in England. Just this weird salty ham cut.
THIS PLACE HAS NO BACON, I'M TURNING AROUND AND LEAVING.
(Not in actuality, I still absolutely adore Oxford. But seriously, this no bacon thing is a strike. I REALLY LIKE MY BACON.)
Monday, January 11, 2010
Charms
So, today I was sworn into the Bodleian Library, which is Oxford's library and the second largest in the UK, with over 8 million volumes. If you know me at all, you know that alone is enough to get me to squee in delight. However, add into it that the fact that the room we were sworn into the library in is apparently the location at which they shot the charms class scenes for Harry Potter. I'm sure most of you know that I've never seen the Harry Potter movies (only because I love the books so much and feel they will ruin them), but after being in Oxford I really feel as if I have to see them, so much of the movies are filmed here.
It's fascinating -- it's like walking back in time, into Hogwarts, and in the present all at once.
Matt- Turns out they do have a first folio as well. Also, a Gutenburg Bible!
We also received a tour of St. Peter's College, the college our program is integrated into. It's fabulous -- they even have a little bar in there! I suppose because the drinking age is only 18. Side note -- funny enough, a French guy was telling my friend Alexis and I all about the drinking age in America last night. He didn't seem to realise we were American and knew all too well. Moving on. They also have a common room, where they hold Bops -- which are costume parties. So I can just pretend all my lovely APhi ladies are there with me.
Anyways. So after that we had our first lecture -- it's certainly going to be a trying semester academically. It was almost hard to wrap my head around what he was saying concerning Renaissance philosophers and humanists. I'm quite excited to have my limits tested so thoroughly, however. The way they do courses is kind of wonky as well. My large course has about 8 people in it, that's my Shakespeare Seminar. My Austen and Witches course are both tutorials, which means I'll meet with my tutor one on one once a week, and then the rest I kind of do on my own. He assigns me reading and work, and then we meet weekly to discuss it. So you essentially teach yourself. I have my seminar and meeting with my Witches in Early Modern Europe tutor tomorrow.
Other than that, tonight my newly-made friend Jessica and I went to the White Horse and the Grand Room for some drinks, since she had yet to go out in the UK. The White Horse was cute -- it's supposedly haunted by a witch whose broom stick was found upstairs, and they refuse to touch it for fear of provoking her ghost. But we left rather quickly, not due to spectres, but because there were only three people in there -- and two of them were quite engrossed in one anothers tongues. So it was one Pimms then off we went.
We wandered around for a bit, hunting for somewhere that was a touch more exciting. We stumbled across this place called the Grand Room, and were tricked by the mirrors lining the walls -- we thought there were far more pople than there were. I'm certainly not sad I got tricked, however. All the cocktails were half off, and man did they have cocktails. I got an Elderflower Fizz, which was delicious, and a Watermelon Martini in which they used actual watermelon.
Well, being that it is 0330 I should probably head to bed. Cheers!
It's fascinating -- it's like walking back in time, into Hogwarts, and in the present all at once.
Matt- Turns out they do have a first folio as well. Also, a Gutenburg Bible!
We also received a tour of St. Peter's College, the college our program is integrated into. It's fabulous -- they even have a little bar in there! I suppose because the drinking age is only 18. Side note -- funny enough, a French guy was telling my friend Alexis and I all about the drinking age in America last night. He didn't seem to realise we were American and knew all too well. Moving on. They also have a common room, where they hold Bops -- which are costume parties. So I can just pretend all my lovely APhi ladies are there with me.
Anyways. So after that we had our first lecture -- it's certainly going to be a trying semester academically. It was almost hard to wrap my head around what he was saying concerning Renaissance philosophers and humanists. I'm quite excited to have my limits tested so thoroughly, however. The way they do courses is kind of wonky as well. My large course has about 8 people in it, that's my Shakespeare Seminar. My Austen and Witches course are both tutorials, which means I'll meet with my tutor one on one once a week, and then the rest I kind of do on my own. He assigns me reading and work, and then we meet weekly to discuss it. So you essentially teach yourself. I have my seminar and meeting with my Witches in Early Modern Europe tutor tomorrow.
Other than that, tonight my newly-made friend Jessica and I went to the White Horse and the Grand Room for some drinks, since she had yet to go out in the UK. The White Horse was cute -- it's supposedly haunted by a witch whose broom stick was found upstairs, and they refuse to touch it for fear of provoking her ghost. But we left rather quickly, not due to spectres, but because there were only three people in there -- and two of them were quite engrossed in one anothers tongues. So it was one Pimms then off we went.
We wandered around for a bit, hunting for somewhere that was a touch more exciting. We stumbled across this place called the Grand Room, and were tricked by the mirrors lining the walls -- we thought there were far more pople than there were. I'm certainly not sad I got tricked, however. All the cocktails were half off, and man did they have cocktails. I got an Elderflower Fizz, which was delicious, and a Watermelon Martini in which they used actual watermelon.
Well, being that it is 0330 I should probably head to bed. Cheers!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Good Morning Starshine
So, this is just going to be a quick post. But, I've figured out that if I want to actually be present in the British culture, I'm going to have to become a morning person.
Everything closes incredibly early here -- I'm not sure if there's a single 24-hour convenience store in the whole of Oxford. The mini-grocery store around the corner that's ''open late'' closes at 11. It's insanity!
Everything closes incredibly early here -- I'm not sure if there's a single 24-hour convenience store in the whole of Oxford. The mini-grocery store around the corner that's ''open late'' closes at 11. It's insanity!
Friday, January 8, 2010
Oxford
Well, I've been in Oxford for near 24 hours now... I have to say, I absolutely adore it. Posting may be slightly spotty, but mainly because I want to ensure that my posts are at least somewhat entertaining to read, rather than me just repeating my schedule with a few elaborations.
The flight over went rather smoothly. At first I was a touch frightened because I had a child to the side of me and one behind me. If you know me, you know my feelings toward children are iffy at best, so you can imagine how thrilled I was to be surrounded by them for a seven hour flight. However, the one to the side of me was a young Londoner named Oliver, and I have decided that I could never nanny for a British family because the children could literally get away with murder. They'd ask me if they could go throw a rock at some poor old woman's head and I'd be slightly inclined to say yes just because their accent is so bloody adorable.
The use of bloody brings me to a side topic: I LOVE BRITISH SLANG. Why are our slang words not near as creative as the Brits?
But anyways. So the flight was not too rough, I took an ambien and slept straight through it. Fell asleep of the coast of main, awoke off the coast of the UK. I really think that was a good plan, because I do not feel jet lagged in the least. It's already weird for me to think that it's 7pm at home, it feels like incredibly late.
Which brings forth another observation: everything closes phenomenally early here. Even a lot of the pubs close around 11 or 12. I suppose there are a few that close at 2, so that's fun. I've only been to one pub -- The Eagle and Child, which is apparently famous for being a meeting place of C.S. Lewis and Tolkien. I had a Pimms and hot apple juice, it was phenomenal. I also have been really enjoying the cider.
After that everyone wanted to just grab some drinks from Sainsbury's and bring them back to the common room at St. Michaels Hall. I must admit, I was a touch disappointed, I really wanted to go explore the Oxford night life a bit more. I suppose I have a full term to do so. I'm excited to see what Oxford is like once the students return. As much as I adore most the others in the program, I do want to be more integrated into the British culture. As of the moment it's kind of as if we're long-term tourists -- just hanging out with other Americans and such. It's kind of like moving America to England.
But all in all? I absolutely adore Oxford. The shopping is PHENOMENAL, there's history at every turn, and it's gorgeous. I do love America, but nowhere do we have an atmosphere like they do in the UK. It's certainly something I could get used to.
The flight over went rather smoothly. At first I was a touch frightened because I had a child to the side of me and one behind me. If you know me, you know my feelings toward children are iffy at best, so you can imagine how thrilled I was to be surrounded by them for a seven hour flight. However, the one to the side of me was a young Londoner named Oliver, and I have decided that I could never nanny for a British family because the children could literally get away with murder. They'd ask me if they could go throw a rock at some poor old woman's head and I'd be slightly inclined to say yes just because their accent is so bloody adorable.
The use of bloody brings me to a side topic: I LOVE BRITISH SLANG. Why are our slang words not near as creative as the Brits?
But anyways. So the flight was not too rough, I took an ambien and slept straight through it. Fell asleep of the coast of main, awoke off the coast of the UK. I really think that was a good plan, because I do not feel jet lagged in the least. It's already weird for me to think that it's 7pm at home, it feels like incredibly late.
Which brings forth another observation: everything closes phenomenally early here. Even a lot of the pubs close around 11 or 12. I suppose there are a few that close at 2, so that's fun. I've only been to one pub -- The Eagle and Child, which is apparently famous for being a meeting place of C.S. Lewis and Tolkien. I had a Pimms and hot apple juice, it was phenomenal. I also have been really enjoying the cider.
After that everyone wanted to just grab some drinks from Sainsbury's and bring them back to the common room at St. Michaels Hall. I must admit, I was a touch disappointed, I really wanted to go explore the Oxford night life a bit more. I suppose I have a full term to do so. I'm excited to see what Oxford is like once the students return. As much as I adore most the others in the program, I do want to be more integrated into the British culture. As of the moment it's kind of as if we're long-term tourists -- just hanging out with other Americans and such. It's kind of like moving America to England.
But all in all? I absolutely adore Oxford. The shopping is PHENOMENAL, there's history at every turn, and it's gorgeous. I do love America, but nowhere do we have an atmosphere like they do in the UK. It's certainly something I could get used to.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Dulles
So I'm camped out on the floor of Dulles waiting for the British Airlines check-in counter to open. I got here far too early for my flight (4 hours, to be exact) so that Matt could beat the atrocity that is D.C. rush hour. I mean, I don't think waiting in D.C. rush hour to get me here later was asking too much, he's already driving near eight hours today to get me the airport. Can you believe how selfish he is? (In case you can't pick up via internet, that was sarcasm.) At least they have free Wi-Fi until January 15th, sponsored by Google. I adore Google at the moment.
I may have overpacked -- I have two rather large duffles, a questionably large carry-on, a backpack, and my purse. I'm sitting on the floor literally surrounded by baggage.
Kind of funny, apparently there is a group doing a semester program in Uganda, and they kind of surrounded me. It's entertaining, because they all appear to have some tag or something that indicates their program, and since they're all surrounding me people keep introducing themselves to me. I'm kind of curious as to whether or not there is anyone else from CMRS on my flight -- apparently most of the people in the program are from St. Mary's college in Maryland, so it would make sense that someone else would be flying out of D.C.
My apologies that this post isn't very witty or organized, the Uganda people are all talking around me, which makes it rather difficult to write a nice, coherent lovely blog post.
I may have overpacked -- I have two rather large duffles, a questionably large carry-on, a backpack, and my purse. I'm sitting on the floor literally surrounded by baggage.
Kind of funny, apparently there is a group doing a semester program in Uganda, and they kind of surrounded me. It's entertaining, because they all appear to have some tag or something that indicates their program, and since they're all surrounding me people keep introducing themselves to me. I'm kind of curious as to whether or not there is anyone else from CMRS on my flight -- apparently most of the people in the program are from St. Mary's college in Maryland, so it would make sense that someone else would be flying out of D.C.
My apologies that this post isn't very witty or organized, the Uganda people are all talking around me, which makes it rather difficult to write a nice, coherent lovely blog post.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Glorious Return
MY PASSPORT HAS RETURNED TO ME.
I refused to do ANYTHING all day (granted, it is only 1, but regardless) for fear that I would miss the UPS man. My mother warned me, often the UPS man does not come until after five, to which I said I will sit here and do nothing until he comes, because everyone knows if I say, go to the YMCA at 11, it will be the day that the UPS man comes at 11 and DON'T YOU KNOW IF I MISS HIM EVERYONE DIES?!
But I also refused to take a shower, watch tv, or anything. Have you ever noticed it seems like the more important the doorbell ring is, the quieter it is? It's like it has a special UPS setting so that it's barely noticeable to all in the house. And the UPS men don't try very hard either. I think they get paid per missed delivery. In actuality, I'm betting people bribe them with large wads of cash and/or favors to retrieve their packages off the truck when they miss the "delivery attempt."
Ahem. Onward. So I bolt from my bed, nearly throwing my laptop across the room and directly into the wall, and run downstairs to answer the door. (Whether or not I was screaming "passport passport passport! the entire way down will be left to mystery.) (hint: I was.) And I opened the door whilst exclaiming "Oh thank God, that's my passport and I travel on Wednesday." The UPS man commented about good timing, but started to look a bit weirded out when I told him if he wanted he could have my first born child or I could always kiss his feet. (Okay, that one actually didn't happen. I only offer my firstborn children to ticket agents, not UPS men.)
I refused to do ANYTHING all day (granted, it is only 1, but regardless) for fear that I would miss the UPS man. My mother warned me, often the UPS man does not come until after five, to which I said I will sit here and do nothing until he comes, because everyone knows if I say, go to the YMCA at 11, it will be the day that the UPS man comes at 11 and DON'T YOU KNOW IF I MISS HIM EVERYONE DIES?!
But I also refused to take a shower, watch tv, or anything. Have you ever noticed it seems like the more important the doorbell ring is, the quieter it is? It's like it has a special UPS setting so that it's barely noticeable to all in the house. And the UPS men don't try very hard either. I think they get paid per missed delivery. In actuality, I'm betting people bribe them with large wads of cash and/or favors to retrieve their packages off the truck when they miss the "delivery attempt."
Ahem. Onward. So I bolt from my bed, nearly throwing my laptop across the room and directly into the wall, and run downstairs to answer the door. (Whether or not I was screaming "passport passport passport! the entire way down will be left to mystery.) (hint: I was.) And I opened the door whilst exclaiming "Oh thank God, that's my passport and I travel on Wednesday." The UPS man commented about good timing, but started to look a bit weirded out when I told him if he wanted he could have my first born child or I could always kiss his feet. (Okay, that one actually didn't happen. I only offer my firstborn children to ticket agents, not UPS men.)
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