2nd Breakfast

No One Cares...(but maybe they do)

2011-01-11T00:13:00.000-08:00

I recently found this on my computer. I wrote it nearly a year ago but I never posted it because I was still in the middle of my England posts. Ay ay ay.

January 19

10:02 am

I’ve been astonishing myself lately with my keen ability to leave the apartment later and later without missing the Parkwest-Carlson shuttle. Last quarter I completely missed it no less than five times. Due to the fact that I haven’t quite missed it yet this quarter, I have developed the notion that the shuttle has come to terms with the fact that I am going to be pathetically sprinting towards it every morning, and it has taken it upon itself to wait for me. Today there is further evidence to indicate this; at a minute past the hour, when the shuttle should have been pulling away, it was unexpectedly held up by a girl who was trying to hang her bicycle on the face of it. It was unexpected because there is usually no one at my stop at this time. At two minutes past the hour, when precisely half of my body had managed to turn the corner and was emphatically yanking the other half behind it, it still hadn’t left. I caught the shuttle, and in my morning haze I could have sworn it emitted a small sound which I can only describe as a mechanical chuckle.

3:01 pm

My iPod is my closest companion; literally, for it is the closest to me and likes being tucked away in various pockets. My iPod loves me and my headphones do not. They never have, and so they break and tear and try to electrocute me in protest, forcing me to replace them every few months. The current pair are buds that tend to come apart. The small blue rubber buds very easily and stealthily remove themselves from the speakers and often find opportune moments to leap off and frolic by themselves. As I was running for the shuttle, I discovered that one of them had done so yet again. Thinking it had dropped itself off somewhere along the path, I resolved to look for it later. I forgot. It rained a lot. I found it not. I accepted the fact that my neglect had caused the poor bud to be lost forever in the terrible storm. It was The Little Toaster all over again.

January 20

1:04pm

Exiting the shuttle and starting up the path in my unnecessarily large khaki raincoat, something caught my eye and steadily lowered it to the ground. I don’t tend to stare at the earth, ever since the age of fifteen, when I read in a magazine that people who do so are introverted and shy, while those who gaze up are artistic and those who stare forward are realists, or as I put it, less likely to run into things. What caught my eye was the very same small blue rubber bud that I had lost the day before. It was staring up at me with its one round eye, which was filled with rainwater, causing it to look teary-eyed. “I’ve missed you too, little one.”

35 Days of UK Adventures (the final part of a post-travel travel log)

2011-01-06T14:01:00.000-08:00

Forgive me blogger, for I have sinned. It has been a year and three days since my last post. I put it off for a week, which became a month, and then it was embarrassing that I hadn't done it in so long. And here we are. Whoops.

Day 27:

After the truly tragic local performance of The Merchant of Venice, we were grateful to be heading to London the next evening with our Shakespeare on Film class to see As You Like It at the Globe. We showed up early to have a Q&A with the director of the Romeo and Juliet production we'd seen there a few weeks prior. His name is Dominic Dromgoole, and he is also the artistic director of the Globe. We piled in to this big, high-ceilinged room that must be used for...press conferences? rehearsal space? I have no clue, to be honest. But we could hear a lot of thudding from above, which was creepy. So we were all there, bright-eyed, a bit worried about what was going on above us, and waiting for this prestigious director, and then this other man came in. He basically looked not quite, but pretty close to, a homeless man. He had a short yet unruly beard, the kind that isn't particularly messy or uneven but still seems like an accident. His shirt was faded and not uniformly tucked into his jeans, like he was thinking of tucking it in but ran out of time and half-assed it. He wasn't wearing shoes but he was carrying a mug of what I assumed was tea. Then this man who sort of looked like he'd just wandered into the back room of the Globe Theatre came up to us and introduced himself as Dominic Dromgoole. And he was brilliant and very funny. I have an mp3 of the talk somewhere.

We had time before the show to have dinner, so we went to the Pizza Express next door and it began to rain violently while we were in there, so that when we came out everyone who didn't have a poncho wished they did because of course you can't have umbrellas in there. Groundlings didn't have umbrellas. They pissed on the ground and had sex while the show was going on, but they certainly didn't do anything quite as bothersome as holding umbrellas. So we got wet, but it was the best show ever. Ever ever ever. I've never laughed so hard at Shakespeare, and that's saying something.

Mary and I had decided to stay in London that night and the whole weekend for that matter. It was a free weekend so while others went to Paris or Barcelona, we were like, "We're in England, damn it. We're going to see England!" So we stayed in a hostel which was actually very nice, though small and strange. We were in a room with like 10 or 15 girls, none of whom I actually saw. But I saw their stuff hanging from the three-tiered bunk beds. By the way, I was in the middle bunk, which is impossible to get into, because the ladder only goes to the top bunk, so you have to kind of go halfway up the ladder and then jump into a tiny space between the middle and top mattresses. I went in there to see if I could, before going to brush my teeth and change into PJs. It was so hard to get in there that I just said screw it and stayed in there 'til morning.

Day 28:

We decided to spend most of Saturday in the city of Brighton, known to the British as a charming seaside community and known to me as the place where that half-wit Lydia Bennett went to become a ho-fo-sho in Pride & Prejudice. It was kind of like Santa Monica Pier but cleaner and way more interesting. Watch.

Then we came back to London and browsed the biggest and most expensive store I've ever been in, Harrod's. They sell everything in there! Name a thing. They sell that there. And it's going to cost you a pretty penny.

Day 29:

After another night in the brightly colored King's Cross St. Pancras (pancreas...hehe) hostel, we went out to explore London's museums. Watch.The National Gallery and the British Museum seriously are two of the most interesting museums I've ever been to, and I'm not one of those people who loves museums all that much. But, they were free, and full of wonderment. I especially liked the British Museum because you could take pictures of everything and even touch things! I also liked that they had a sign that basically said, "We're letting you see all of these worldly treasures for free! Don't you feel that we are totally generous and that you should be eternally grateful and perhaps donate to us or something?" And I was thinking, "Yeah, well that's nice of you...to have stolen all the world's treasures in your heyday. Good for you that you're letting the world that you stole them from see them for free."

Day 30:

I'm not sure what happened today. I think we ended up going to Rev, the closest nightclub to us, also the cheapest, also the one that no one else ever went to so that it was basically just a roomful of Americans dancing to bad music and having a blast.

Day 31:

Wrote an essay...about...hmm. Perhaps it was for my Shakespeare class. I think I had to write about how I would make a R&J movie and who I would cast. I think I cast Jim Sturgess haha. But before I wrote the essay we might have flown a kite. Watch.

Day 32:

We punted to Grantchester to have dinner at the Red Lion, which is I think the only restaurant in Grantchester. It was kind of a race and we won without cheating. Mostly. Also, Michael was Hiawatha, but I don't remember why. Watch.

Overheard in the UK

"It was weird. Actually it wasn't weird, which was the weird thing."

Day 33:

Our last "Fromal Dinner" -yep that's how it was spelled out the menus that night. Our "prize" for having the best British accents was to recite the "To be or not to be" monologue from Hamlet. Watch the humiliation.

Day 34:

Mary and I went to Ely, a cathedral city not too far from Cambridge. We climbed to the roof of the cathedral! Then we went to Grantchester to visit the tea house. This time we went on foot and met up with some unexpected circumstances. Watch!

Day 35:

I can't believe I'm finally wrapping this up. And it only took me a year and a half. Well, the last day was very sad indeed. It had been six fabulous weeks in England and I wasn't that excited to go home except to see my family and go on a cruise the following week as a family vacation. But I promised that I'd go back one day, to once again see the Pembroke cat, the Fitzwilliam Museum with it's Darwin artifacts, the grass that you're not allowed to walk on, the ice cream shop, and the train station where Douglas Adams had his biscuit incident.

"This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong.

I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of biscuits. I went and sat at a table.

I want you to picture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear in your mind.

Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of biscuits. There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.

It didn't look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of biscuits, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.

Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your biscuits.

You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn't do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?

In the end I thought, nothing for it, I'll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a biscuit for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another biscuit.

Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice . . ." I mean, it doesn't really work.

We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight biscuits, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.

Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my biscuits.

The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had the same exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line."

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 10 of a post-travel travel log)

2010-01-03T20:32:00.000-08:00

Day 23:

This evening we had an "Regional Accent Workshop" with my Shakespeare on Film instructor. Only the cool people showed up, meaning not that many, which might explain why I managed to tie with Marla for the best accent award. Marla's British accent sounds like BBC English and mine sounds like...well...it sounds like I migrate a lot. I'm not an auditory learner.

Day 24:

We took a grand day-trip to Stratford-upon-Avon, Shakespeare's birthplace. The first thing a few of us did was get some yummy tea and scones from this place called Anne Hathaway Tea Cottage. We were mostly there to see the RSC's production of The Winter's Tale and my class even got to do a little Q & A with Greg Hicks (who played Leontes) in the afternoon. He came off as rather arrogant during the interview, but he turned out to be a good actor, so we somewhat forgave him. Somewhat. Before the show, a bunch of us had a superb dinner at the Rose and Crown. Daniel bought us lemonades, which was very nice of him, and we found out that in England a lemonade is basically 7-up or Sprite. We then headed off to the the play, which turned out to be probably one of the best productions I have ever seen. Even from our cheap seats on the third floor, it was unbelievable to watch.

Day 25:

The gang went to see the premier of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. The best part was the opening scene when the Death Eaters are flying around London, because we had just been there not too long ago and we could recognize the sights. It made us think twice about crossing the Millennium Bridge again, though.

Day 26:

I had to sit down and finally write an essay. I think it was for my Purity and Danger class and it was about witches. I now know WAAAY too much about witches. Or was it prostitutes. I think it was prostitutes. Whoever it was, I knew WAAAAAY too much about them. Apparently not anymore.

That evening Mary and I (and I feel like someone else was there too :/ but I can't remember who exactly) went to see a local production of The Merchant of Venice. If you thought that English actors could do no wrong with Shakespeare...*sigh* Yeah it was pretty bad. One of the main girls kept randomly gesturing as she was talking. I'm talking, hand on the forehead, arms clutching stomach kind of gesturing. The best part about it was when it started raining violently towards the end, because the actors loosened up a little (it was outdoors) and had some fun with the lines. Especially when a lot of the lines had to do with how nice and sunny it was. Also, the audience had umbrellas, and the actors obviously didn't, so it kind of felt like revenge. We trudged home in the lovely rain.

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 9 of a post-travel travel log)

2009-10-13T20:40:00.000-07:00

Now that school's in full swing, these posts are few and far in between. This means it will probably take me until next summer to finish this series. Ha. -__- Meh.

Day 20:

It being Friday, Mary and I decided to go to the Big Weekend fair...concert...thing that was happening in Parker's Piece, one of England's big, grassu, treeless parks. There, we saw the greatest band in the history of bands, ABBA the Show. Technically, they are called The Abba Show, but we're pretty sure they referred to themselves as "Abbatheshow" as if it was one word. Yes, they wree an ABBA cover band. Yes, they dressed up as and even took the names and accents of ABBA. Just...watch. You won't be disappointed. Then we saw fireworks (fireworks Gandalf!) and a lot of drunk adults.

Day 21:

The bad news was that we had to miss the rest of the Big Weekend. The amazing news was that we got to go to Bath!!! And as if that wasn't cool enough, we first stopped at Stonehenge! We discovered that no one knew what a henge was, and then our little walkie-talkie informational devices that they gave us told us that henge meant hanging. I still don't really get it. But it was still awesome. When we arrived in Bath, the first thing we did, besides accidentally being led to the YMCA when we were supposed to be staying at the YHA, was take a walking tour. Our tour guide was this sweet white-haired lady who I really wanted to adopt as a grandmother. Okay, so let me tell you, Bath is a gorgeous city. I mean, seriously seriously beautiful. No wonder Nicholas Cage has a house there (which we saw, sort of). The whole day I felt like a Jane Austen heroine. We also took a tour of the old Roman Baths, which are apparently hazardous to your health currently, which is why they've build new ones, but I'm glad they kept the old ones because they are wicked cool and feature holograms who disrobe. It was quite scandalous. Finally, after an exhausting day, we had dinner at the oldest building/business in Bath, Lunn's Buns. We ate in the Jane Austen room (of course) and had a really expensive meal that was probably the most delicious thing I've ever eaten, bun and all.

Day 22:

We decided after one night in the YHA (a youth hostel), that it made a great rainforest. We woke up basically soaked as it was raining off and on that weekend. We were able to chose what we wanted to do that day and of course I decided to go to the Jane Austen Center. Squee! Alright, just had to let that out. Anyway, it was lovely and very informative. Plus it had a kick-ass gift shop! To top it all off, we had the best pizza ever for dinner at The Real Italian Pizza Co. before catching the coach back to Cambridge.

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 8 of a post-travel travel log)

2009-09-25T11:49:00.000-07:00

Day 18: To celebrate the end of midterms, we had a formal dinner at Pembroke and then a "P" party, which was basically a costume party where everyone had to be something that began with the letter P. I turned my dress into a Pacman screen. It was pretty sweet, but then it all came apart as I was dancing.

Er, the Pacman part, not the dress itself.

Obviously.

Day 19: Do you want to know how cool my history class was? This is how cool it was. It was so cool that we took a field trip in taxis to the neighborhood leper chapel. Watch the video here.

Then we played some croquet and watched the good version of As You Like It, possibly my favorite Shakespeare play ever.

"In thy youth thou wast as true a lover as ever sighed upon a midnight pillow."

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 7 of a post-travel travel log)

2009-09-16T20:45:00.000-07:00

Day 15: The weirdest day EVER. This video will get you up to speed. The more times you watch it the stranger it all seems...

Done watching? Promise? Okay, you'd better not be lying to me. When people lie to me...(turning green) I...(increasing in size) BECOME...(clothes stretching) PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE!*

*Just kidding. No one lies to me. No one.

Anyway. Mary and I wrote this song to summarize day 15. To the tune of "I Feel Pretty":

Jerry feels pretty
Oh so pretty
He feels pretty and witty and gay
But of course he
Didn't see a man peeing on a grave today

Need a phone card
Yes a phone card
Not a SIM card
A phone card, I wish!
But we're in line
Behind kinds who don't speak English

Do you hear that noise from that alien there?
What alien where?
With the saw/synthesizers
Such a silver face
Such a silver suit
Let's just stop and stare!

Jerry feels pretty
Oh so pretty
He feels pretty and witty and bright
And we pity
Anyone who's not in Cambridge tonight!

Day 16:

We went swing dancing in the tiny back room of the Man on the Moon Pub, because that's obviously the quintessential English experience.

I wish you could see me smirking right now.

What can I say? It was great fun, the people were lovely, and an elderly British lady taught me some wicked new moves.

Day 17:

We went to Evensong at the King's College Chapel (such a magnificent building) to hear the angelic voices resonate off the stained glass and massive organ donated by Henry VIII. TA Nick tried to smuggle us in to the college members seating but we were somehow found out so we had to sit in the more uncomfortable seats. We also had to stand quite a lot and when we were allowed to sit, I was so relaxed by the music that I kept almost nodding off. It was so embarrassing. I think my head snapped up a few times and people noticed. Mary did, at least.

Later that evening we watched The Girl with the Pearl Earring because it happened to be on TV. We all enthusiastically agreed that it was a pretty weird movie.

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 6 of a post-travel travel log)

2009-09-10T14:47:00.000-07:00

Day 13 - It rained on this day in Cambridge for the first time since we'd been to England. The good news was that I'd been hoping for a sprinkle or two since I had arrived. The bad news was that it decided to rain right before a planned game of ultimate frisbee. Ah well. As a 90s Irish pop group (whose cassette tapes I may or may not still own) would say, "C'est la vie."

Overheard in the UK:

"...Green-witch"

"It's pronounced 'Gren-ich'"

"Yeah...Green-witch"

"GREN-ICH"

(vehemently) "Yeah, I know...Green-witch!!!"

"..."

(muttering) "gren-ich"

On some day (probably one of the phantom ones between 8 and 12 that didn't get recorded) we played Capture the Flag out on Jesus Green. We got in two teams - America vs. Britain. Mary and I were on the British team with TA Matthew as our captain. It was fun for a while until people started cheating and getting injured and no one won in the end, but there was one shining moment.

Overheard on Jesus Green:

Matt (explaining our Capture the Flag strategy): "Let's all stand in a straight line and approach slowly."

Mary: "Isn't that how the British usually fight?

Day 14 - "I see London, I see...London!!!" After arriving in London, we walked through a creepy tunnel that went underwater in order to get to a dock. While waiting at the dock I was attacked by a ferocious ladybug. No one answered my panicked SOS calls and instead took a picture of me squirming. If you look really hard, you can see the foul beast menacingly climbing up my hip.

We were then taken on a "high speed" boat ride down the Thames and led on walking tour that included stone-faced guards that would make good department store mannequins, a million statues with birds on them, and a choice of where to spend the afternoon. We who wanted to see a famous site and yet spend minimal poundage followed semi-TA Will to St. Paul's Cathedral. It was ridiculously impressive from the outside, inside and top. Probably even the bottom, but we didn't see the basement. It has a basement, right?

That night, although our limbs were weary, we remained standing for a couple hours in order to watch Romeo & Juliet at the Globe the "real way" according to Greg. In sooth, 'twas tiring, yet unquestionably enjoyable.

Overheard in London

By the Thames: "What if Loch Ness came down here?"

Will (in his very British accent): "Let's...bounce."

Me: "Hey that place has Indian Cuisine. "The Gandhi."

Mary: "The Doggy?"

Seen --> a restaurant called "The Real Greek"

Mary: "As opposed to the Fake Greek?"

Passing Tower Bridge -

Everyone: "It's London Bridge!!!!!" (followed by that awful Fergie song blasting on some one's phone)

Us: "That's Tower Bridge."

Passing London Bridge -

Everyone: "So...there are two London Bridges?"

Update: How could I have forgotten the videos to go along with this trip? For shame. Watch them here and here.

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 5 of a post-travel travel log)

2009-09-03T15:29:00.000-07:00

Day 7: By this point we had more or less learnt not to trust Greg when he'd say that hikes were walks or bus rides were journeys, and using his alternative vocabulary had become taboo in our circle. So.

Still sore from climbing a mountain the day before, we trekked up the massive hill to Arthur's Seat. It was so foggy that by the time we reached the peak, we were standing inside of a decidedly gray cloud, absolutely soaking and unable to see any of the gorgeous views or even each other, really. You'd think we would have been miserable, but we were having too much fun guessing the reason why the place was called Arthur's Seat (no one knows! oooohoohoo!), contemplating sledding down on the wet grass, and singing "Hurray for Holyrood" at every opportunity.

Our next stop was the Scotish Parliament, which was awesome and looked like a cool place to hang out. Then Mary and I had lunch at the fanciest Pizza Hut ever. It was a sit down restaurant. With waiters. And not cheap. (I had to go to Chocolate Soup for dinner just to get over the shock.) After lunch we ran through the streets of Edinburgh to make the bus to Rosslyn Chapel, a site made famous (albeit with many falsehoods) for it's part in The Da Vinci Code, which I long ago refused to be subjected to beyond the first chapter.

New Made-up Word: Creepatorium (n) - A place which houses creeps. Usage: That pub was such a creepatorium.

Update: I forgot to mention that you can watch videos of the Scotland trip here and here.

Day 8: Overheard en route to Cambridge -

"Why do they call it 'pence'? I mean, 'cents' is like 1/100 and the prefix that means 100 is 'cent'...where did they get 'pence' from?"

"Yeah, I know, it doesn't make any cents."

On the way back, we stopped at Fountains Abbey, a wicked 800+ year old ruined Cistercian monastery in North Yorkshire. I know that as we stared at the centuries old stone walls and broken paths, we all had the same thought. What a photo op!

Day 9, 10, and 11: are inexplicably unaccounted for. Day 12 merely has two Overheards.

Overheard in the UK -

Me: "Who would be a good Romeo?"

Amie: "Orlando Bloom."

Me: "Yeah, when he was younger. In earlier stuff."

Amie: "Lance-a-lot."

Me: "What? That was Ioan Gruffudd."

Amie: "Lord of the Rings."

Me: "Huh???"

Amie: "He was Lance-a-lot in Lord of the Rings."

Mary: "I only like brocolli in brocolli beef chicken. Oh whoops, I mean beef & brocolli."

Me: "What does beef chicken come from?"

This last conversation was followed by a drawing, which I have recreated very authentically on Paint.

that's a piece of brocolli, by the by

After this, there is another drawing which represents our brilliant findings on a similar matter.

The final drawing was done by Mary, and I think it speaks for itself.

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 4 of a post-travel travel log)

2009-08-27T18:24:00.000-07:00

Today I am stopping the madness and switching this travel log into past tense. What was I thinking trying to do otherwise? It's ludicrous. I have half a mind to go back and edit the other ones.

Day 6 - We had a choice, and the choice was this. We could either climb a mountain today, and climb half a mountain tomorrow, or the other way 'round. Considering the fair weather, we decided it was probably best to go for the gold while there were fewer mud puddles waiting to pounce. This turned out to be a wise decision. So we pulled up to the Trossachs about seven or eight and we yelled to the coach driver, "Yo, homes, smell ya later"...but I'm getting ahead of myself. We first stopped at Callander (the Montrose of Scotland), this tiny town that has what looks like one main street. We were supposed to go get sandwiches to eat on the mountain, so about fifty of us piled into the first decent place we saw. It was this sweet little place called Deli Ecosse, which totally did not deserve to be bombarded by dozens of hungry Americans. (Sorry, again!) But I did manage to leave with a Salami & Gruyère toastie that all but made me cry, it was so delicious. Then again, I was so weak and famished when I finally ate it at the top that it could have actually tasted like year-old cabbage for all I know.

When we were almost at the spot from which we would start the hike, a few of us asked Greg for the umpteenth time whether it would be very strenuous. He assured us for the umpteenth time that it would not be at all. "It's like a walk," were his exact words. I'd like to report that he was actually telling the truth, and that when we reached the top, we were surprised to see how far up we'd actually gone since the hike itself felt like nothing. I'd like to report that, very much, but the truth is that it was a difficult, gruelling, muddy climb that almost killed us on the way up and then threatened to finish us on the way down.

Overheard in the UK:

Me (panting): Are we really...this out of...shape?
Mary (wheezing): No...no...it's a higher altitude.
Greg (as if he's only just walked to the corner market and back): Actually, we're pretty much at sea level.*

*I googled this, and we were definitely above 3000ft, which may not be very high, but it's more than twice where I live, mmkay?

Alright, so the hike was crazy hard for those of us whose idea of physical exertion is 30 minutes on the elliptical, BUT the view from the top coupled with the immense satisfaction for having completed the climb made it ridiculously worth it. Plus it was fun suffering together. Just listen to this song we thought up on the way down.

That night I couldn't will my converse back onto my feet in time to walk up the longest street ever to dinner, so I stuffed them in my bag and wore my flip flops. That's the night it decided to start raining in Edinburgh. Lucky me. So I pretty much slipped and slid all the way up to Bella Italia, the (slightly cooler) Olive Garden of the UK. By the by, there are about fifty Bella Italia restaurants on this one street in London. Weird. Anyway, I left my umbrella there and didn't notice because when we emerged it wasn't raining anymore. Of course by then I had my shoes back on. Figures.

I'm not being facetious when I say what a fantabulous day that was.

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 3 of a post-travel travel log)

2009-08-20T11:29:00.000-07:00

Day 5 - This is the second time I've overslept because of my prehistoric alarm clock, and even though Mary and Amie have apparently come to my room and pounded on the door, I've slept through their shouts and now I've missed breakfast. Lucky thing I thought to pick up some breakfast bars at Tescos on the way back from dinner last night. This morning, we're off to the National Gallery of Scotland, where my history professor, who has come with us on the trip, gives us an amazing tour of the place and points out a few key paintings. While I love art as much as the next girl, I'll admit that it was just as exciting to see the traditional bagpiping Scotsman that was playing outside, even though he was obviously just there to pander to the tourists. I'm alright with that. I mean, I'm a tourist. I don't mind being pandered to.

By this point, I'm really regretting missing breakfast, and I'm more than relieved when we split off in groups for lunch. A few of us go to the absolute best place ever in the history of lunch spots - Chocolate Soup. It's on Hunter Square, just off the Royal Mile, and it has the most amazing soups (real ones, not just chocolate), bread, and sandwiches...I don't think I need to go on for too long about the sweets and drinks - the name should tell you enough. I can't tell you how much a savor the memory of my tomato basil soup and olive bread. Just...give me a moment. As my dad would say when making fun of people on cooking shows, "Mmm...mmmmmm...deleeeshus!"

Anyway, after lunch we have a while before our scheduled tour of the city, so we go shopping. Of course, in my hurry this morning, I forgot a sweater. Deceived by the sunny weather, I forgot what country we were in. So I'm freezing now, and I don't want to spend a ridiculous amount of money on a jacket that I don't like all that much, so I settle on really nice £6 scarf that I can sort of bundle up in if I'm willing to look like an idiot, which I am. The name of the shop is Off Beat Clothes Co., which is fitting, I think. Our tour guide is this amazing, hilarious, old(ish) guy in a kilt, and he's so nice that we can only guess that there must be a perfectly good reason why his bag says "International Corrections and Prisons Association." Right.

After the tour, Mary decides to indulge her inner princess and head to the castle before it closes. Amie wants to go shopping and I want to go back to the Writers Museum, which we passed on our tour, and actually go inside. So I go shopping with her first, and then we get a bit turned around and can't find the museum in time, and end up having to climb the biggest staircase I've ever seen in order to get back to the pick-up spot for the coaches. I don't even know where that staircase came from. Edinburgh is just like that, I think. One minute you're walking along what you think is a perfectly even street, and the next minute, you've wandered in a circle and you're looking back at the spot you began, except now it's miles above you. Needless to say, by the time we get back to the dorms, our feet our dying. It doesn't help that the only shoes I brought with me to Edinburgh are my Converse and some cheap flip flops.

We only have a few minutes to freshen up for dinner, and then it's off to this swanky Indian place called Kalpna Vegetarian Restaurant. At this point, Amie and I have no idea where Mary is, and for all we know she could be hiding in a canon back at the castle. So we're actually having dinner with the wonderful Lucy (I can't really think of her exact job title but she basically did...everything) and her "friend Jane" - this is what she told us, that we were going to meet up with her "friend Jane" - who turned out to be Dr. Stevens. Now, I'd never had dinner with a professor before, but it certainly wouldn't be the last time. In England, at least. I don't know if UCI professors go for that sort of thing. Anyway, the food is great and pretty much everyone heads over to Biddy Muligans afterwards. I tell you, if all pubs had bandaoke, I'd be a fan. Of course, we can't stay out too late because tomorrow, we are climbing a mountain. Yeah, that's right. A mountain.

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 2 of a post-travel travel log)

2009-08-13T12:57:00.000-07:00

Day 3 (Addition) - On the way to punting, the TA's are half-jokingly rummaging through Cambridge ID cards to find some that look like any of us, so that we can get the university discount. Matt holds one up to Roxy and tells her it will do, as long as she doesn't open her mouth. "Why not?" says Roxy, and her obviously American accent answers her question for her. Realizing the problem, she offers what can only be called a valient attempt at an English accent. "Na waayt!" she protests, "Ay cahn doo et!"

Which reminds me, watch our punting conversation here, if you haven't already.

Day 4 -Today we are going to Edinburgh. By coach. Our program director, Greg, has assured us that it will be a delightful "journey" - I don't think anyone's buying it. The bus ride is going to be 350 miles and 11 hours including stops. If we leave on time (unlikely) we should be there by seven-ish. Ha. A few hours into the trip I'm already dying. As much as I want to, I can't fall asleep. I can only throw pathetic glances at Mary, who is happily snoozing next to me with her blow-up neck rest pillow. Just when I'm starting to contemplate an elaborate scheme of bribing every driver in Britain to get off the road so that we can go a tad faster than 40mph, we arrive at Hadrian's Wall. (Watch the video here). It's a giant...wall...built by the Romans back in 122AD. According to Greg, they saw men running around in skirts up north and thought "Perhaps a nice wall would do." Anyway, we get out and everyone makes a break for the toilets and the wall, in that order. Which reminds me, it's time for the first installment of:

*Overheard in the UK*

In the coaches, a few miles away from Hadrian's Wall, we see a few small stone "walls" or enclosures for livestock.

Mr. Impatient: Is that the wall? How about that one?

Back to the story. So the actual wall is pretty impressive, and the endless green that surrounds us, even more so. There are sheep, cows, and endless photo opportunities. There's even a sudden, potentially deadly cliff, that we all manage to stay on the right side of. Who could ask for anything more? Needless to say, we are sad to see it go and continute our vehicular voyage to Scotland. By the time we reach the University of Edinbugh, where we are staying for the next few days, it's quite late and we're famished. Because the school has apparently closed their cafeteria type place for remodeling or something, we're sent out in packs to the city to try and find a decent bite. Most of us don't make it very far before settling for a shady-looking restaurant in the dodgier, but closer, side of town. To the credit of Palmyra: Halal Mediterranean Food, even though their menu features four tiny camels on the cover and offers "juicy marinated tender chicken breast cutlets cutlets," their food, prices, and service are the best. We walk back to the dorms exhausted and full of kebabs.

35 Days of UK Adventures (part 1 of a post-travel travel log)

2009-08-10T15:21:00.000-07:00

Day 1 - Although Heathrow Airport is blindingly white, although the tube is packed with bored, sweaty people who glare at us as we drag our reluctant, bulky suitcases, although we can't find platform 9 and 3/4 at King's Cross, although we have no idea what "coronation chicken" is or why it's an unnatural shade of yellow, although it feels as though our ears being suctioned off everytime we go through a tunnel, and although the trudge from the station to the college is not a short mile as a kindly gentleman assured us, we don't mind. We don't mind because the sky is bluer here and the sandwiches don't contain MSG and friendly people with lovely accents lead us toward our cozy, quiet, grassy, storybook residence of Pembroke College, Cambridge, where we will shower, dine under a white marquee, and forget that we haven't slept in ages.

Day 2 - We take a tour of Cambridge. I think I could live here forever. Just chisel me in between the honey-coloured stones, or I'll stand in place of the monstrous grasshopper that sits upon a gold circle - the Corpus Clock. We pay a visit to Boots, a store that sells health and beauty products and not much else. It has apparently been infiltrating the US market since last year via Target. I have my first class today - Purity and Danger in Early Modern Europe - taught by Dr. Jane Stevens, possibly the only professor on earth who could make me enjoy history. We don our best and take a massive group picture on the lawn. We're usually not allowed on the treasured grass, so we make the most of it, indulging in free champagne that we are suddenly old enough to drink, until an uptight Frenchman surprises us with a gong and tells us that dinner is served. Tonight is the first of many formal halls. I promised myself I wouldn't make any Harry Potter comparisons (but just know that I totally could if I wanted to).

Day 3 - My small alarm clock ticks loudly, so I had to hide it under a pile of clothes in order to fall asleep. The problem is, I also didn't turn it on, so I overslept and missed Purity and Danger. I feel like an ass, but I at least manage to catch Dr. Stevens and explain the situation. All is forgiven. I adore this woman. My second class is called Shakespeare on Film and it is possibly the coolest class I have ever taken (or ever will) and it is taught by the best instructor ever - Daniel Rosenthal. I go to the library to check out some of the recomended texts, and he turns out to be the author of two of them. Holy. Pants. We go punting today down the river Cam. There are the required "Pimp My Punt" references. We spot the various colleges as we go. The library in St. John's College bears the inscription "ILCS 1627" which we decide stands for "I've Loved Cream & Sugar, since 1627". We have our first fish & chips pub dinner at The Anchor on Silver St. We all agree that the dish should be called "A Fish and Chips" because the fish is just sitting there, whole.

Watch this video.

Room 6, Building W, Pembroke College, Cambridge, England, UK, Earth (this is where I am)

2009-06-23T07:33:00.000-07:00

This can't be a real place. I'm sure I'm going to wake up from this glorious dream any second.

The journey here was surreal in itself. We traveled from LAX to Heathrow Airport to the London Underground to King's Cross to Cambridge and then we dragged our luggage to the actual college we are staying at, Pembroke. Everyone here is amazing and really friendly. My classes are so interesting and the professors are the coolest people ever. The college is gorgeous - actually, the whole city is gorgeous. There is a sink in my room. It stays light out until around 10pm. The weather's been pretty nice. Yesterday we toured the city and tried to remember that pedestrians don't have the right of way. I'm trying to spend as little money as possible...yeah. The food is actually really good here and we had a formal dinner last night in the dining hall. This is frustrating. I want to give specifics, I really do, but my mind is not working correctly at the moment. I mean, seriously, I don't think it's jet lag (though I did have some of that). I'm just having an out-of-body experience, I really am. I can't put any of this into words, so I'm going to be taking lots and lots of pictures and videos and perhaps once/if I regain my mental abilities, I will share some funny stories with you all. Right now I can only think of being in Boots yesterday, where they sell pharmacy products and cosmetics and things like that, and overhearing a woman speaking on the phone, saying "Yes, well, I was going to, but then I began watching that documentary on Ipswich. You know, all those murders?" and in my mind I was like "Holy Pants I'm in England!!!"

Just watch this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbivKHsnpns

Now I'm off to go punting!

Второй Завтрак (2ой завтрак?)

2009-05-29T20:11:00.000-07:00

I have a feeling I may have mentioned my endless love for second breakfast...oh...somewhere around here. So you can imagine the tingly-tangly feeling I got in my heart of hearts when I discovered a passage in my Russian textbook that referred to the "American lunch" as второй завтрак - literally, second breakfast. This is what it had to say on the subject: At one o'clock Americans have breakfast for the second time. Second breakfast may include salad, a sandwich, (etc.)

Gosh. It almost brings tears to my eyes.

I only slightly scoff at the one o'clock time stamp. My theory is, breakfast is the first meal you have when you wake up. Period. If you wake up at 8am and have pancakes, that's breakfast. If you wake up at 3pm and have pizza, that's breakfast. With me so far? Okay, now it gets a bit tricky. The rules for second breakfast are much more strict. You can't just go willy nilly on this, alright? Second breakfast is serious business! First of all, you can only have it before noon. Yeah, that's right. Tough, I know, but them's the rules. Second, it has to be a breakfast-y meal, or else that's just an early lunch. Or a brunch. Yech. Don't get me started on brunch. Brunch is a poor man's second breakfast. Another big difference? Sometimes people have brunch instead of breakfast, but you can only have second breakfast AFTER you have had breakfast.

So now you know. Take this new found knowledge and live well, friends.

In joy your day.

I Should Be In Class (oh my goodness)

2009-05-13T15:17:00.000-07:00

Every day, from 3:00pm to 3:50pm, this entire year, I have had Russian. Last year it was from 2:00pm to 2:50pm. So, for two years, I have been going to this class. I know exactly when it is, and when I need to get my shit done in order to get that A, and I always do. And it's not like I ever skip any of my other classes, unless I have a really important reason that I absolutely cannot go. I'm just not the type of person that skips class. I figure, I'm paying all this money for an education, so I'm going to get my money's worth!

Yet, as I glance at my CD player alarm clock, I see that it is 3:24pm. And I will tell you why, in spite of my aformentioned credo, I am sitting here, in my room, on the computer. It is because, ladies and gentlemen, for the past two or three weeks, I haven't been able to do...anything much, relating to schoolwork. My determination has cut off its own head. My motivation has slit its wrists. My concentration has thrown itself in front of a locamotive. And lastly, my entire sense of work ethic has utterly disemboweled itself.

I know we're nearing the end here, but there's still three more weeks of school, not counting the rest of this week. Plus finals week. And like I said, this has already been going on for a few weeks. I haven't read a thing for Social Science Core OR History of the Deadly Sins since midterms...and maybe even slightly before midterms. And this must be the third or fourth Russian class I've missed. WTF? This isn't my normal procrastination. This is insanity! And do you know why this is happening to me? (pfft "to me"...right). It's because I make one or two lazy moves, and the whole thing just snowballs. I can describe it to you by using today's epic fail as an example.

I didn't go to class today because I realized as I was leaving that I was a)going to be late, and (more importantly, but still not a good reason) b)I hadn't done my homework. I didn't do my homework because I forgot. I forgot because I was taking a nap all morning (after I got back from my 8am drama class) to make up sleep. I had to make up sleep because last night I stayed up way too late working on my monologue for this morning. I had to work on it late because instead of working on it, I went to improv practice, which I never miss no matter how much work I have piled on my desk. I could have worked on it before improv, but I was "working" on chinking away at the massive amount of reading that has piled up for my other two classes. Not that I got any of that done either, because I was wasting time/being distracted by I don't know what. Etcetera, etcetera.

I didn't go to Russian today. Which means I'm going to be behind. I could fix this, if I went to her office hours tomorrow and turned in my homework/got today's homework. BUT she's only in her office from 1-2pm and I have class All morning and afternoon until right up to Russian, which is a computer lab on Thursdays, which always takes me like an hour to complete at minimum. And then Fridays, we have quizzes. So if I'm going to have to do two assignments right now, with no understanding of the material, so that I can turn them both in tomorrow (and I am thanking my lucky stars that today's assignment is not a worksheet because then I wouldn't have been able to do it). I also really, really, REALLY have to catch up on some reading today. Like...really. Plus I have improv from 7-10 and a sketch comedy meeting after that. And I will go to both, even though no one is forcing me, I will attend. So, there you go. My life is shittastic (Andrew's got me hooked on that word, I swear). And an hour ago, I thought to myself, "Well, I have a mountain of work to do, and I probably should do it. Actually, I need to do it. I must. I must. Let's write a blog about it first. I do have an extra hour..." and that's how it always starts.

I'm Working My Way Through the Naked Juices (green is weird...who the hell put mango in here?)

2009-05-07T16:12:00.000-07:00

Today, I think I need to call out to all my lady friends out there. Yoohoo! Ladies! *waves*

Eek. Ok that sounded disturbingly like my high school dance teacher...Ms. Manzo. (Yes, it's pronounced "Man-zoh"). I shudder to draw the comparison.

...

This post is already getting off topic. That's a new record. Let me see if I can get back on track here. *consulting linear thought faculty* Ladies. Yes, that was the subject. Ahem.

If you are like me, you rather enjoy being comfortable. This means wearing comfortable clothing that is also practical. Furthermore, if you are like me, you enjoy wearing dresses or skirts from time to time. Unfortunately, I've never found these two thoughts to be easily reconcilable.

As I stood in front of my closet this morning, I had an overwhelming desire to pick out my casual red cotton dress. As is custom, I had cause to pause. Knowing it was going to be uncomfortably hot today, I weighed my options. Hmm, I thought. The dress is awfully cute, but I don't want to be stuck walking around campus, sweating, worrying about it riding up, or about my thighs awkwardly rubbing together. I briefly considered grabbing shorts and a t-shirt instead, but I just couldn't do that. This was going to be dress day, dammit! Desperate, I grabbed my semi-worn out pair of black tights. These will surely do the trick, I thought, but they go down to my calves and that might be too warm for today. Plus, I never really liked the look of them when they were in style, much less now. I was at a standstill. Suddenly, in desperation, I ran to my drawer, pulled out some scissors, and began slashing at the tights like a madwoman. I snipped and clipped until...eureka! Shorts! I slipped them on under the dress and was comfortable all day long.

Am I the only one who has had to face this dilemma? Am I the only one who has ever looked a pair of undies from the 18th century and thought "Now those I could use"?

I'm not sure what that arrow is doing there...

Conversations Heard Outside the Russian Library (in English, fyi)

2009-04-27T14:30:00.000-07:00

Half an hour ago, I was sitting in the building called HOB2 which houses the Russian department and the Classics department. Just having visited my professor, I was catching up on some weekend homework when a group of young men (Classics majors, I assume) came in and chose to stand in a semi-circle around me. As I continued to sit on the couch, eyes glued to my work, they proceeded to carry on what I have now decided is the most depressing conversation that I've ever been forced to eavesdrop upon. I cannot even recall to you the specifics of their chatter, for I have slightly managed to block most of it from my mind. Or perhaps the details have leaked out of my mind of their own accord, in order to rescue me from the unbearable fate of having to replay them in the future. I'm not sure. What I can tell you is, the conversation was about schoolwork, on the surface. On a deeper level, it was about Peer Domination. Now, most of you have probably heard or even been a part of a conversation involving Peer Domination, so you may think this is an overreaction on my part. It is true that I, too, have heard a great many subtle jabs about one's GPA being higher than an average person. I've also heard people compare their classmates to automatons and soulless devils of institutionalized education. What I hadn't experienced until today was people having these types of discussions while standing in the middle of a room (that is often used for study purposes) right in front of an innocent bystander (or bysitter, if you will) and speaking with enough resonance and clarity as to practically include them in the conversation! I felt as if any minute they were going to turn to me and ask for my assessment of this Battle of the Brains. Needless to say, I evicted myself before any such question was presented.

sigh

Here's something nice to add: I wrote a short (10 min) play this weekend, and it doesn't suck* so I am going to actually show it to people. Yipee.

*much

I Saw A Bird Attack Another Bird (and now for some other news)

2009-04-24T18:37:00.000-07:00

Everyone's sick.

People to the left and right of me have been sneezing, coughing, and generally looking infectuous for about a week. I blame the bipolar weather that Southern California has been experiencing lately. One day it'll be 95 degrees, the next it will be chilly, the next it will be windy but hot, and then...freezing rain! Go figure. I was sick this past weekend, so instead of being productive and suffering through the three essays I had to write, I slept. And slept. And slept. I had no medicine to speak of until my friend Katie gave me some Nyquil on Saturday night. I went to bed that night at around 10pm and woke up the next day at 4pm. Best 17 hours of my life. Just kidding. I don't like to sleep THAT much. (But it was pretty nice). Luckily, even though I get sick a little more often than the average person, I'm usually better after 2 or 3 days. As of now I am more than fully recovered. Booyah. Take that, cold.

I went to a $1 book store today and bought: A Long Way Down (Nick Hornby), Men and Other Mammals (Jim Keeble), About a Boy (Nick Hornby), the Devil Wears Prada (Lauren Weisberger) and a children's version of The Secret Garden, for my niece, whose birthday is coming up. I also bought my friend Katie a birthday present, but not from there. I won't say what I bought or where I bought it in the off chance that she reads this blog. Highly unlikely, but still.

You know what I want? A normal, plain, comfortable, simple zip-up hoodie in one solid bright color. That's what I want.

I made some new friends. Hurrah hurrah.

There are 7 weeks of school left. I really really really want it to be summer so that I can go to England already!!!!!! Or at least can it be 4 weeks later so that Liz will come BACK from England already??? *sigh*

I have some pretty fly videos up on my youtube channel (2ndbreakfast), if you're interested. You're probably not. That's ok. You can watch the I'm On a Boat song, again.

I'm Ready To Kill Someone (on Easter no less)

2009-04-12T19:17:00.000-07:00

No, no one in particular. Except maybe whoever came up with the idea that:

-my cell phone doesn't need an answering machine thing
-a school bus/uci shuttle is a good place to leave a shoulder bag containing all of your possessions (ok that was my idea clearly. but i got everything back!)
-auditions should involve me talking about myself to strangers (ugh my monologue went well, and then POOF I acted like a stupid. yeah, you heard me. a stupid.)
-the financial aid people need every document you have ever looked at or thought about let alone filled out
-important documents online must be opened with a certain program which my junkie old laptop (the only one that can connect to the junkie printer at home) doesn't have
-the same junkie laptop must have an insane cursor that does what it wants half the time with no thoughts about me and MY feelings and needs
-the certain program that the website demands not only takes forever to download, but then doesn't even work when trying to open up the important documents
-i should have to write 2 essays during easter weekend
-my social science class should take a weird turn spring quarter and start studying the economy of England in the 18th century (whyyyyyyyy!?)
-the same class should be led by a man who resembles Tom Cruise in that he looks like him and that he is probably just as weird (but he can't be even half as intersting)

*sigh* needless to say, I'm overdosing on crappy bunny chocolate

The End and the Beginning (of the End)

2009-03-28T21:50:00.000-07:00

I have no explanation as to why I haven't been blogging all week. Yes, it is my Spring Break, but I haven't exactly been partying it up in Miami with dudes named "Trevor" - nope, I've been home...doing nothing much. I honestly don't want to go back to school tomorrow. I do not want to go back. Yet, go back I shall. How awfully contradictory. Yes, there are many things that I am looking forward to this quarter, but there are also some things that I'm anticipating that seem less than appetizing. I'm rather pro at turning lemons into lemonade, but what am I supposed to do with a pile of poo?

Manure it is.

I did have some fun this week, I'm happy to say. On Tuesday my sister took me to see the opening of the World Figure Skating Championships at the Staples Center. It was actually pretty entertaining until it had been 5 hours and we were mentally pleading with the skaters to wrap it up. I mean, it's called the Short Program, guys. Does that mean anything to you? Huh? Does it!?

I also got a much needed haircut this week. My hair was starting to get to that awkward past-mid-length-but-not-quite-long-either point, where it hits my shoulders and tries to turn 90 degrees and start growing sidways. Basically, I begin looking like a poor man's Mary Tyler Moore.

It just hit me that if Mary Tyler Moore and Mary Todd Lincoln were in the same classroom, they would always be seated near each other. If, of course, the teacher used an alphabetical system. If not, then at least they would graduate one after the other.

But I digress. Immensely.

Currently, I have a somewhat shaky feeling in my stomach. It's as if I either want to cry, throw up, or have a snack, but I can't tell which. Best go with the last suggestion.

Up In the Air (and floating around jollily)

2009-03-15T14:27:00.000-07:00

Here's the dealio, yo. It's officially finals week according to my calculations, and I am at home, not studying, because my finals aren't until Thursday and Friday. One is Russian, which I need to study for, but I pretty much know I will do well on because I've been working hard all quarter and I've been doing well on the weekly quizzes. The second final is for Honors Social Science Core, which is an interesting class but I haven't really finished all the reading. Yeah, I should probably get on that sometime. Maybe after I have some tea. The professors did say it was going to be a pretty easy final, though. I think one said that we were going to be so thankful on Friday that we'd want to send them fruit baskets. Hehe.

I also have an annoying paper to write on a play I saw (Book of Tink). I rather enjoyed the play, but it was a bit confusing so I don't really know what to write. Ehh.

Let's see. What other things can I bore you with? Hmm. I applied to the Child Development Center on campus (again) in hopes that they need people for Spring quarter. I wanna develop me some chillins, I do. Ok that sounded creepy. I'm not a creeper, I promise. OH and I saw a really funny clown show on Thursday! Who knew we had a class at UCI that taught you the art of clownery? I totally want to be a clown now! Haha that also sounds kind of creepy.

Alright, as a reward for reading this far (and I do commend you, it is quite a feat), here's a hilarious website my friend Jules linked me to. And here's a preview of it:

It's Quiet (too quiet)

2009-03-12T22:15:00.000-07:00

I was trying to post this on 3/12 but apparently I was stupid and just saved it instead. I found it in my drafts a few minutes ago. Lamesauce!

~~~~

No one is home but it looks like they all left in a hurry. Weeeeiiiirrrrd. Ah well. I like being alone sometimes :)

Today I saw a free show on campus involving students dressed up as clowns. It was hysterical and I feel proud to attend a university that offers a course in clowning.

If you haven't checked out the Cake Wrecks website yet, do yourself a favor and head over there. I haven't laughed so hard since...well there was the clown thing earlier...

I think that I had way too much chocolate today. In like, eight different forms. And now it's taking revenge

This is Trippy (how does it know?)

2009-03-10T17:44:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my friend Gilliane, who linked me to this website, I now know that I was a female in my last earthly incarnation. I was born somewhere in the territory of modern West Russia around the year 975. My profession was that of a designer, engineer or craftsman. Also I came to this life to care for old folks and children.

Well.

I'm usually very wary of superstitious crap, but you've got to admit it's a little weird. I mean, I'm really fascinated by the Russian culture and I'm taking Russian as a second (slash fourth?) language right now. And I do like to care for children and although I haven't had that much experience with the elderly, I like them. I'm also interested somewhat in design, math, and art.

Creeeeepyyyyyyy.

A Video (you weren't expecting that, were you? haHA! I have amazed you)

2009-03-07T22:56:00.000-08:00

Or watch on Youtube here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OYU0SmS9g8

Victory! (hell yeeeees i'm proclaiming it beechez)

2009-02-25T13:49:00.000-08:00

I've got to say, I'm feeling good. Like, right now, at this moment. This is why.

-My ipod just chose to play like twelve amazing songs in a row - right now it's I'm Yours by Jason Mraz.
-Today the weather is perfect. Not too warm, not too cold. Blue skies with a few cuddly white clouds.
-On my way to campus, I ran into some guys giving out free hugs. I remember when we did that in high school. It was a great experience. I couldn't just leave them hanging.
-These past two nights, I somehow willed myself to just...let go and have FUN at improv again and the results were unbelievably awesome.
-I had a really nice conversation with my friend Liz last night. I'd say she made my day, but that would be such an understatement. She totally makes my life.

I normally feel stupid writing song lyrics down and passing them off as a representation of some new kind of philosophy I'm grooving to at the moment. But, if you will indulge me...

"Look inside your heart and you'll find love, love, love, love."