Look what I found

I was cleaning out some boxes of mine tonight and I stumbled across this column I wrote back in summer 2005 (age 16). I love finding things like this. Reminds me how much I like writing.

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The shimmering sun reflected off the plush green grass through the sliding glass door as my parents sat me down on the couch. Thoughts swirled through my 6-year-ol mind as I attempted to understand the reason for this talk. An anxious feeling began to bubble in the pit of my stomach and my body began to shift uncomfortably in anticipation of a possible punishment.

"Honey, there is something we need to tell you," my mother said, her voice strained with emotion, tears clouding her deep brown eyes, "Your father and I are getting a divorce."

My father, attempting to remain composed, questioned whether he should hug me, hold me, or sit in silence. Both looked to my 2-year-old brother, sitting on the floor playing with blocks, completely oblivious to the quake our seemingly perfect world had just experienced.

Our family had moved to St. Louis not even 10 months ago, and in doing so we left family, jobs, and best friends in Kansas City. At the age of six, my energetic and carefree persona had resonated through our Midwestern home but in that past year, through a move, a new school, and meeting new people, I had transformed into a shy, anxious child, new to a neighborhood firmly rooted in the strong bond of past relationship.

Now they were telling me that they were uprooting me yet again to return to the embrace of the loving outstretched arms of familiarity waiting in Kansas City. But this time my father would not be joining us. The prospect of only seeing my father once every two weeks confounded my senses.

But as one must after any life altering experience, I put the past behind me and welcomed my new life with the idea that I could create another perfect world; unfortunately one that only few saw as perfect.

A single mom raising two young children in a new home in a new neighborhood in a well-to-do suburb seemed to astonish onlookers.

Despite the immense mileage, they cooperated. They never fought, at least not in front of me. They were civil, making decisions concerning their children together. Standing firm together, they enforced rules and regulations. And as my father moved close-by and parents remarried, the critics began to realize that we could make this work.

Fast-forward 11 years.

That little girl hoping for familial perfection now lives with the unanticipated consequences of four parents. Two different rooms, two different beds, two different homes, and two different sets of rules personify a ping-pong game.

I am the ball. Traveling back and forth, back and forth, and at times I find myself surprised that I have survived. Constantly packing and driving, I have mastered the art of adaptation, that of curfews, surroundings, and expectations.

To some it may appear a burden and perhaps it is, but it is one that I know as commonplace. Four adults now occupy the executive board of my life. Four parents attend teacher conferences and school meetings. Four wardens monitor the friends and the boys. And four detectives know everything.

My situation might seem overwhelming, confusing, frustrating, or bizarre, but they have given me opportunity and turned our problems into a disguised blessing.

If anything, they have bestowed upon me the best gift of all.

Four people who will always love me.

I need some wheels

Someone should really warn you how difficult it is to find a car.

You look and you look and you finally find one that fits the majority of your criteria (aesthetically pleasing, not a beater car, a small SUV, etc.). Then you really get down to business and negotiate over the price. Finally, you have your mechanic check it out and he finds that there is $100 million worth of work that needs to be done.

AND you are back to stage 1. Looking for a car.

I'm starting to go insane.

So here is my plea:

Dear craigslist, edmunds, auto trader, and all you rip-off dealerships out there,

Please just find a car for me that isn't $20,000 or hiding necessary repairs and isn't nasty ugly. Please deliver to me my the end of this weekend. Thank you very much for you time and consideration.

If I don't find one soon I'm going to run up to the Vespa store on Nall and purchase a little scooter. I could rock the helmet. It may take a little longer to get to work, but hey, I'd be riding in style.

Where do I go from here?

Now that all my adventures in Europe are mere memories, I am finding it difficult to come up with something to write about. I believe there are two main reasons for this:

1. Everything seems pretty dull in comparison to the past 4 months.
2. Since not a single one of my friends is back from school yet and I sold my car before I left and have yet to find a suitable replacement (craigslist, you are letting me down!), I am forced to sit in my house all day with no one to hang out with.

I will use today as an example.

9:15 - Wake up to let the cleaning lady in. Try to go back to sleep.

9:16 - All of a sudden I have a pounding headache. Thank you pollen and mold. Try to go back to sleep...again.

10:00 - Can't sleep. Take some Advil.

10:15 - Lay downstairs in the basement so I am out of the way of the cleaning lady. Fall in and out of sleep while watching recorded episodes of House.

12:00 - Make an Eggo waffle.

12:05 - 6:00 - Discover we have OnDemand. Watch CSI:NY, Harper's Island (per brother's request), Numb3rs, and NCIS. My headache won't go away.

6:00 - Eat dinner with Mom and Tim. First real human contact of the day.

7:00 - 11:00 - Watch Gossip Girl, One Tree Hill, and more CSI.

11:00 - 1:00 am: Lay in bed playing on the computer and think about how worthless I was today.



Save. Me.

The time has come

3 and a half months have passed. Where did the time go? Probably hiding somewhere with all my money.

What will I miss most about London? Let me tell you.

• TV shows start at times like 9:41 and have a total of two commercial breaks
• Having to push the lever at least 4 times to actually flush the toilet
  
• People laughing at me when I ask to personalise my burger at McDonalds
  
• The spelling of personalise, organisation, apologise, flavour, favourite, colour, etc.
• Britain's Got Talent - need I say more.
• The way Coke tastes here.
• Being able to order a pint...legally.
• Walking down a street in central London on a beautiful day and realizing that you are part of something much greater.
• Public transportation
• Hyde Park and Holland Park
• DAMARIOS PIZZA
• No.10 Chinese Takeout
• Walking EVERYWHERE
• The simplicity of our TV with only 5 channels

What am I most excited for back home? I guess I can tell you that too. (Family and friends are a given, no need to list)

• Two words - Dr. Pepper
• Taco Bell
• Chipotle
• Tostitos chips and salsa
  
• The American Flag
• Our healthcare system (well, the one we still have at the moment)
• Driving (Here's to hoping I don't drive on the wrong side)
• Not living out of a suitcase
• ALL the clothes I had to leave behind
• Giving people all the gifts that are currently making my bags weigh multiple pounds over the limit

Those are the condensed lists.

Well, I'm packed (I'm definitely pushing 50lbs each bag). Everything is by the door ready to go at 7 am tomorrow morning. It's a weird feeling. At times, I am so ecstatic to see everyone that I don't think I can contain it. But then ten minutes later, tears start to swell at the thought of leaving 40 Hogarth Road.

Cheers, London. It's been a good run.

Did I miss the memo?

First, a little background:

During the Miss USA pageant, judge Perez Hilton, an openly gay columnist, asked Miss California if same-sex marriage should be legalized. Miss California replied saying she believes marriage is between a man and a woman. She finished second in the competition. Media sources immediately picked up the story and debates ensued as to whether or not she lost the competition because of her response.

If you want more on the story, Google it. You will have enough reading material to last a few days.

It seems as though Miss California's response is making headlines even across the pond. And honestly, I am appalled by the way Americans are reacting. What angers me isn't what has or hasn't been said concerning the issue of same-sex marriage. No, it is the hypocritical masses that are responding with such extreme fervor.

This isn't an issue of whether or not I support gay marriage. This is an issue of respect and free speech.

Equality is an interesting word. Protests in favor of gay marriage, and those against, are constantly making the evening news and opinion sections of the paper. The word equality is widely used by supports of gay marriage. Those in favor want equality for all sexes when it comes to marriage. They want respect. They want to be heard.

But shouldn't this respect and desire to be heard go both ways? I grew up with the understanding that you give respect to get respect. Bullying gets you no where. Slander will only hurt your cause. If you want to be respected for who you are and what you stand for, you should, in turn, give respect to others, regardless of their opinion. This goes for those on both sides of the issue. A good friend recently said that gay people endure the worst discrimination, and I completely agree. I'm sure that when you are being constantly discriminated against and ridiculed, it must be difficult to give respect to others. I can't begin to understand the daily lives of those bearing this. But that doesn't change the fact that someone demanding respect and equality should give respect and equality to others, even those in opposition.

As a journalist, I am a huge proponent of the First Amendment, most importantly the freedom of speech and press. Each and every citizen in the USA has the right to speak their mind. They are entitled to their own opinion. At least this is how it was four months ago when I left. Did something change and they forgot to send out an email?

I think everyone in America needs to take a hard look at themselves. Are we really so hypocritical and blinded that we feel it is okay to tear down a girl because she has an opinion on a controversial topic? At least she took a stand. At least she is willing to back her opinion and her beliefs, whatever they may be. Personally, I don't care what you believe, as long as you stand behind it. I can now see why the majority of our politicians never take an actual stance on any issue - if you do you will be publicly ostracized.

As I start packing to come home, I can't help but think about my beloved country. I am a proud American and have been subject to ridicule and countless debates while overseas. I know my heart will skip a beat the second I step on American soil and see the flag. I've never been more excited for the 4th of July. But as I prepare to return, I wonder if she will be the same country I left four months ago - a country that was built on the First Amendment and the right for an individual to express her opinion.

Priorities

Time: 5:47 pm
Location: Soho Gym, Earls Court

I walk up the three flights of stairs to the gym, looking forward to what I am about to do. The end result just makes me so happy. Granted, I always leave a little flushed and sweaty, but it is worth it. I take each step with anticipation. It's been a while since I've done this.

On the way up, I pass three people carrying large gym bags. The bag I have is slightly smaller and seems to stand out.

Rich the cute Aussie is manning the front desk. I don't have my membership card with me, but he knows my name. No worries.

Rich: Hey Libby.
Me: Hey Rich.
Rich: Same a usual?
Me: Yes, please!
Rich: Alright, Room 1 is open.
Me: Thanks Rich. See you later!

I eagerly open the door to the room and set my purse down.

A minute in a half later, the tanning bed turns on and I relax while listening to The Fray's new album.

I left content, even though it is slightly sad that Rich knows I only come to the gym to tan. Let's get serious, I didn't even bring tennis shoes to London.

The beginning of the end

Today is my last day at work. Isn’t it interesting to look back on an experience as it comes to an end?

Over these past few months, I have learned a great deal (and not just how to make different kinds of tea). It is amazing to recall the person I was when I started and the person I am now and the changes that occurred because of this internship.

I have been blessed to experience a full submersion into the British culture. I’ve been forced to try new things and jump head first into a world I knew nothing about. I have faced some serious challenges. First of all, understanding people on the phone. I can’t understand Cockney - never have, and never will. I have no idea what is being said even if it is spelled out. That also goes for British terms. It doesn’t matter that you say the word “full stop” eight times and literally spell it out for me. I still don’t know what it means. I have had to sheepishly ask my colleagues what “ta” means and how to correctly use the word “cheeky.”

There have also been some milestones. The most shocking being my first unintentional “Cheers!” That was scary and has now become a habit that I will need to quit as soon as I land in Chi-town. Also, I have successfully made tea for every individual in my office - more importantly, they actually drank it.

But in all seriousness, it has been an internship filled with great memories (and I’m not just saying this in case someone stumbles onto my blog). It is a weird bittersweet feeling I have now.

I guess I will have to get used to it. I would bet its going to be a permanent feeling these next five days.

Would you like fries with that?

Mondays are rough. Everyone knows that. For some reason, they have been especially rough this semester. I’m not sure if it is the 30 minute commute on the crowded tube that somehow always smells like curry, or that rare sunny London days seem to fall on Mondays and all I can do is longingly stare out the window at work. Either way, Mondays aren’t my favourite. Sunday nights in my flat I feel like I’m seven again, about to throw a tantrum because I don’t want to go to “school” the next day.

To combat this dreadful feeling, I’ve implemented a Monday tradition. It is the bright spot in my day, the light at the end of the tunnel (well, I guess more so the middle of the tunnel). It is the best part of day.

Monday’s I get lunch at McDonalds.

(Dear Healthy People: Please take a moment to get over yourselves)

I’m not saying I always get a Supersized Big Mac with extra sauce, fries, and a McFlurry. Lately, I’ve been enjoying the Chicken Selects, or sometimes I will get a salad. But no matter what I choose on the menu, I love my McDonalds.

I’ve always loved McDonalds. When I was a little girl my life goal was to be a burger-flipper at Mickey D’s. (Seriously, ask CJ). While other kids were dreaming of being princesses, cowboys and astronauts, I wanted to wear the red and yellow visor and proudly wield a spatula.

So, on my last Monday in London, I will happily walk to my McDonalds on the corner of Pentonville Road and York. I will order the 5-piece Chicken Selects with imitation BBQ sauce and a Coke (Yes, it has momentarily replaced DP). I will tell the lady that somehow always manages to take my order not to judge me. I will sit in the corner booth, read the book I just started, and enjoy 4.5 pieces of “chicken”.

And for that hour, Monday won’t be so bad.

Doo doo DOO doo dooooo…I’m lovin’ it.

P.s. It is Monopoly time at McD’s in London. Yes, I have a game board.

Cigarette smoke, coffee, perfume

They say that smell is the strongest trigger of memories.

I went to Coffee Republic today to sit outside and read. It is sunny and warm out and I thought it might be a nice to just sit and read while enjoying the weather and my last Sunday in London. When I went inside Coffee Republic (which is really in the lobby of a hotel down the street) the sun was shining brightly on the chairs outside. But by the time the worker actually acknowledged me, told me they in fact did not have ice for a peach iced tea, and I decided just to get a Coke, the sun had hid behind some ominous clouds and I was forced to enjoy my book inside.

I settled down in one of the deep leather chairs and inhaled a long breathe. The scent of faint cigarette smoke, coffee, perfume, and leather hit me hard...

Minnie.

I was suddenly in her Four Colonies house nestled in one of her green leather chairs making sure to keep my feet away from the giant leopard skin rug on the floor - it still had the leopard's head attached. I was sure it would bite me. I would nuzzle my head into the crease of the chair. I loved the smell. Even after she quit smoking the scent still lingered, mixing with her various unique perfumes and her constant cup of coffee.

Some people had grandparents that smelled like peppermint. I don't think there was even one instance when Minnie smelled like peppermint. If anything, you could smell a little lavender.

It's been two years (as of a couple days ago) and I don't think I will ever forget that smell. It stops me in my tracks. And it has happened often while I've been in London (I think Jo Malone perfume is popular here). No matter the reason, I am constantly reminded of her. She would love London and its quirky nature. I can see her finding hidden treasures at Camden Market and holding weekly high tea at the Orangery. I want to call her when I see a beautiful gigantic turquoise ring at a store on Portobello Road. She would love the crazy fashion sense of Londoners.

It's these memories and thoughts that come right after I get a whiff of that smell. It's these memories and thoughts that hit me today. They are unpredictably strong and completely unstoppable, but not entirely unwelcome. While the memories may, at times, make me sad, for the most part they fill me with a sense of comfort and reassurance. I will never pass up a moment to reminisce about Magoo - no matter the time, no matter the memory.

It's these reasons why I love the smell of smoke, coffee, and perfume settling into a leather chair.

I will curl up in that anytime.

Tragic Flaw

I think I figured out my tragic flaw. You know, the flaw that is usually the demise of the main character in plays. Well, I've discovered mine.

I have this ridiculous, extreme, overbearing sense of right and wrong. I have an overwhelming need for justice. And I'm not fishing here. I promise, this is not some lame excuse for compliments, because if you have ever interacted with me you will know I am real awkward with compliments. This is just an genuine realization and frustration.

Growing up, my mom always said I saw the world in black and white. There was wrong and there was right. Ask my brothers, I was always quick to point out when something was wrong - riding bikes without shoes, not doing their chores, ignoring ANYTHING mom said. I was the kid that hid in the back of the car (on the verge of tears) when everyone else jumped out to TP some house in the middle of the night. (Seriously, how did I have friends?)

Still today my tragic flaw haunts me. I guess that is the point of a tragic flaw - it doesn't ever go away. I lay awake at night thinking about the lady with a baby that I didn't give a pound to because I was trying to make the train. Or that I left my dirty dishes in the sink and my flatmate ended up doing them for me.

And most recently, my last week in London has really been bugging me. More specifically, my last few days at work. Technically, our last day at our internships is supposed to be next Thursday. So, I, of course, told my supervisor that and have been under the impression that everyone else did the same.

OHHH NOO. I was seriously mistaken. Half the group told their supervisors their last day was today (Friday - an entire week before it is supposed to be). The other half to their supervisors either Monday or Tuesday. So now I am the lone (loser) intern working until next Thursday. Even the other intern at my company is leaving Tuesday. And it's not that I mind working - I really love what I do and my team - but its bugging me that no one else will be working and that they all got away with it. Is that lame? Yes. Of course it is lame.

Sometimes I wish I didn't care as much or that I was clever enough to think about these things in advance, or didn't feel guilty about ridiculous things.

Hopefully, I can get over this dumb feeling of guilt. If not immediately, maybe over time.

I know it will probably be cut in half the day I turn 21.

Opa

So, would you like to hear about Greece? Not going to lie, I've been putting off writing this post for two days now. It's not that I don't want to share my trip. It's that I don't know how to share it. How am I supposed to describe Greece to you all? For once, something made me speechless. Here is my disclaimer: Take everything I say about Greece and multiply it times about 10,000.

I'll break it down into categories (just in case you really don't care about the ferry ride and just want to read about the baklava).

Flight

We actually flew out of Heathrow - big step up from our usual Stansted (the ugly, red-headed, stepchild of London airports). We boarded the plane and soon found out that this plane had movies!! This means we also didn't know it was a 3.5 hour flight. Fun realization. Needless to say, I was pretty excited about the movie. However, this excitement lasted about ten minutes, because at that point I learned what movie they were playing. Marley and Me. Now, please, someone explain. Why on EARTH would you play a movie about a dog (that eventually dies) on a plane with 300 strangers? But I still watched it. And cried as I ate my baklava and complimentary wine.

Ferry

Sometimes I am prone to motion-sickness. By sometimes, I really mean every time I ride in the backseat of a car or just look at the octopus ride at Worlds of Fun. I didn't think this ferry ride was going to be any different. However, I was envisioning a ferry such as the one in Mamma Mia (Actually, all my preconceived notions of Greece came from that movie). Well, I was WRONG. This was not a ferry, this was a small cruise ship! The upper deck was completely open and you could lounge during the five hour journey. The second floor had a bunch of couches and then an entire seating area that looked like a giant movie theatre. But the best part was the restaurant, Goody. Its basically the Greek version of the BK Lounge. And yes, I did have two cheeseburgers during the five hour trip. But back to my original point, I didn't even feel the slightest bit sick. Probably because I was curled up in a huge Laz-Y-Boy-esque chair watching "House" with Greek subtitles. Dramamine may have just lot their biggest customer.


The Island

I can't even begin to describe Mykonos. So I'm just going to have to put up a few pictures. Sorry if you have already seen these on Facebook.

Also, these don't even begin to do it justice.

Paradise Beach


View from the coast


Paradise Beach, again.

The hotel

ATVs

The people that live on the island are some of the nicest people I've ever met. And there was the most amazing food. I. Love. Baklava. But the highlight of my time on the island was definitely riding 4-wheelers. It was only 20 euros for the entire day. I'm not sure if it was growing up with 3 brothers or that my step dad has a motorcycle, but I love riding 4-wheelers. Such a thrill. We took some video driving around, but it won't upload. Silly blogspot. But they are on my Fbook if you want to look at them. Warning, they might make you dizzy.


Athens

All those hours spent listening to Mr. Allen talk about Socrates and making us read Greek plays and learn about Greek mythology has finally paid off. I actually knew about everything we saw in Athens - the Parthenon, Zeus' Temple, Hadrian's Arch, Temple of Athena Nike, Theatre of Dionysus.

Thankfully the Acropolis was worth the hike, because, WOW, was it a HIKE. We got lost about 4 times before we actually made it up the hill. Plus the rain didn't help. This wasn't just rain either, this was a torrential downpour - my hair was actually dripping. And we were in flip-flops. So please imagine 5 girls in sundresses and flip-flops, attempting to climb the mountain to the Acropolis in pouring rain. Quite the image.



Trip = Huge Success. Pretty much counting down the days until I can go back. I love it there.

I would be totally content selling carved soaps on the island for the rest of my life.

I may look into some real estate.

Where do I find suncreen in London?

I leave for Mykonos, Greece, tomorrow afternoon.

Our hotel overlooks the sea and we are 200m from the beach (not sure how far that is, still don't know metric).

Here is the only problem: What the heck do I pack?

If you haven't caught on yet, I've been living in London for the past 3 months. It isn't exactly sunshine and beaches here. Although it has been exceptionally warm and sunny (all the windows in my flat are open right now), that doesn't mean I have summery clothing here. In fact, I didn't have a single summer dress or pair of flip flops until my Mom brought them during her visit. I know it isn't going to be 100 degrees in Greece, but it is supposed to be 70 and sunny the whole time. Plus, isn't it closer to the equator? That makes the sun more intense? Right? (I could be wrong - science isn't my forte).

Well, needless to say, I was forced to go shopping this week and buy appropriate clothing. However, there wasn't really a plethora of summer clothes out yet, so we had to make do with what they gave us.

Not sure what I'm more excited for...the bright green cover-up, or the hot pink gladiator sandals.

The Greeks aren't going to know what's hit them.

I'll let you know how the clothes all work out. I know you will be dying to find out.

In addition to our shopping struggles, I went to buy sunscreen today. I tend to burn around the edges. In Boots, the huge pharmacy here, there was one tiny stand in the back with one type of sunscreen for ...drumroll please.... FIFTEEN POUNDS! (That is about 23 dollars). I mean, I know no one here needs sunscreen, but don't people go on vacation. Ridiculous.

This tiny bottle of sunscreen better be the best I've ever used.

So, here's to crazy outfits and a burn-free week. Be back next Tuesday. If you don't hear from me, I'm just hiding out in Mykonos refusing to leave. It's a possibility.

Love.

Limericks in the Loo

My office starting putting up signs in each toilet stall.

Several things you should know before reading what one sign says:

• The sign is in a floor FOUR bathroom.
• They have great Microsoft Word graphics.
• There are in every single stall, but each one is different.
• I had to memorize this to write it on here. I mean, it's not like I'm going to bring in a pen and write it down on my hand.

The sign goes a little something like this:

There once was a man from floor two
Who didn’t wash his hands when he went to the loo
He didn’t use soap
Because he was a dope
You’d better hope he doesn’t shake hands with you.

Great creativity, while still sticking to the AABBA format. Plus there is a little added competition between the floors...but, let's get serious, pitting 4 against 2? It's just not fair.

Before I leave, I’ll try to memorize some more. There is a great one about a lady named Mands who didn’t wash her hands and someone who was in a rush and got caught in the flush.

Orange juice and lemon muffins

For a Monday, today is going excepetionally well.

I woke up on time.

Realized I still had orange juice (with no bits!) left in the fridge - enjoyed a nice big glass. (We even had clean glasses!)

Managed to leave the flat early and stopped by my favorite bakery down the street - bought a lemon muffin and they gave me one that just came out of the oven!

Found a seat on the tube when I first walked on (This NEVER happens.)

Arrived at work 10 minutes early.

And it is sunny and warm outside.

These are the makings of a good day.

Conservatives, high heels, and kiwi

Two major events have happened in the past 24 hours.

1) I met a conservative Brit. Yes, you read correctly. And no, I don’t mean conservative in British terms, I mean conservative in American terms. I know, shocking.

2) I am wearing high heels today. Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal, because, lets face it, I love heels. BUT, I haven’t worn heels in 10 weeks, since Obama’s inauguration night to be exact. That’s because I was in such a hurry to make it to class on time that night and see the actual inauguration that I sprinted across half of London in heels. To make a long story short, I had to take a cab home from class because I couldn’t step on my left foot due to shooting pains in my metatarsal. I self-diagnosed myself with metatarsalgia and haven’t worn high heeled shoes since. Today I pulled them out of storage and thanks to Dr. Scholl’s Party Heel inserts, I am loving my shoes again.

Ok, those probably aren’t too exciting to any of you, but they were both fairly huge events in my day.

Well, I’m off to snack on a kiwi. Camilla, my co-worker taught me how to cut one open with a spoon and eat it kind of like a cantaloupe. Quite the nice little treat. Plus they are only 30 p each at Sainsbury's. Talk about a good deal.

Love.

Question of the Day...

Well, my Tigers won. I am beyond ecstatic. I could undoubtedly go on about the game for hours, but I'll spare you.

But I will tell you that I did stay up until 4:30 AM watching the game on my computer wearing headphones in the tiny hallway of my flat. Everyone else, all the sane people, were asleep. I figured that by going to sleep at 4:30 I would get 4 hours of sleep, wake up at 8:30 throw my hair up, and leave for work by 9. Needless to say, I was super excited last night after we won and with that came all sorts of energy, so I didn't fall asleep until about 5 and was so paranoid about oversleeping that I got a total of 2 hours of sleep. When I actual got to sleep, it was filled with dreams of running after trains and getting lost in London by myself.

Stupid anxiety.

Well, I am paying for it today, but it was definitely worth it. Thanks to loads of tea and Coke I survived.With the work day behind me, only a 30 minute tube ride stands between me and my pillow. That might be more of an obstacle than anticipated. When it comes to riding the tube, I'm like a little kid in a moving car.

So here is the big question:

If I fall asleep on the tube, do you think someone will wake me up when I get to my stop?

Maybe I will wear a sign that says "Wake up at Earl's Court....Cheers?"

Yes, I am still alive.

To those of you wondering why I don’t slash CANT update much:

I still don’t have internet in my flat. Haven’t had it for the past 5 weeks. Seriously doubt if I will get it back before I leave. And I can’t really update from work unless I use my lunch break, and let’s be serious, a girl has got to eat.

The lack of updates is not from a lack of material. Plenty of times I am walking down the street and think of something to write, or I watch a show about a man who has limbs that looks like trees and I would really like to discuss it, but unfortunately I can’t get on the internet. I would use my phone from home to update but that would cost $800 a minute at the very least. Considering that I have 4 weeks left and am barely on budget, I don’t think using the phone is going to be a possibility.

But here are the highlights from the past week:

Jess came to visit last week. It was a fabulous week filled with Avenue Q, Billy Elliot, sightseeing, and some excellent food.
Linds, Katie, and Christy are here visiting this week. It is great seeing some school friends and hearing about all the news from home.

On a different, yet still incredibly exciting note…

THE MISSOURI TIGERS ARE IN THE SWEET 16!!! I know some of you are thinking I should really be more concerned with being in London and things like the G-20 summit occurring mere minutes from my flat. But to you I say this: WHO ARE YOU?! GET SERIOUS! My beloved Tigers didn’t even make it to the NIT last year. This is a BIG HUGE GIGANTIC DEAL. As fate would have it, of course I am not in the U.S. when this happens. But thanks to espn.com, my daddy and the Sports Café (a wonderful establishment that plays all of March Madness), I have been able to stay up-to-date and cheer on my Tigers.

Tonight they play at 8:37 cst. For those of you taking longer than 5 seconds to figure out the time difference, that means they play here at 1:30 am. Yes, I will be going to Sports Café to watch it. Yes, I do have to work tomorrow. Should be an interesting Friday (and by interesting, I really mean painful).

Win or lose, I am still proud of my Tigers. When you are unfailingly loyal to a team like Mizzou you get pretty used to disappointment. But every now and then they show you why it is that you love them so much.

So, Leo, J.T., Matt, Kim, Demarre, Zaire, and all the rest of you kids, please don’t make me regret staying up until 4 am to watch you play.

Well, I will try to update as often as I have internet. If you all would like to complain to my program for the lack of access, I can give you names and numbers, just ask.

See you all in 4 weeks and 2 days!

M-I-Z!

It is St. Patrick's Day, right?

Today is St. Patrick’s Day. I went out of my way to wear green to work. That is a big deal. First of all, I don’t really wear much color and today I am wearing a bright green scarf. Secondly, I had to borrow this scarf from my flatmate.

I did this because I thought everyone else at work would also being wearing green. Again, it is St. Patrick ’s Day and I’m currently living mere miles from Ireland, in a country that is part of the United Kingdom. I thought St. Patty’s Day would be a big deal and rightfully celebrated.

Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong. There are two other people in the office wearing green. I actually think people purposefully didn’t wear green. The guy from Ireland five desks away from me is wearing all black. And for those that did, I think it was an accident. One is a guy who doesn’t seem like the type to get super into holidays and themes. The other is a girl who always wears eccentric outfits with crazy colors (quite unique for a Brit). I think her green is also on accident.

Oh well. I’m just going to keep wearing my green scarf with purpose. No one is pinching ME today! Good luck everybody else

Sunshine?

It is sunny today. I know, weird. I don't even need a jacket. I'm not sure what to do.

As confused and excited as I am, I think the Brits are even more so. I was walking to the grocery store this morning and next door to me there was a 4-year-old kid sitting on the stoop waiting for his mom who was standing in the doorway talking to a friend (I assume). As he stood there, this is all he kept saying:

SUNNY DAYYYYYY!!! SUN! SUNNY DAYYYYYYYYYYY!!!! MOM, SUNNY DAYYY. SUN SUN SUN SUNNY!!

Hilarious. I could hear him as I walked down my entire street. That is proof that the sun rarely makes an appearance. You would have thought the kid had never seen sunshine before.

Well, I'm going to take advantage of it. Maybe hit up Hyde Park for a while.

Love.

I know, I know. I'm sorry

This is an official apology for not posting in about a month. I promise I will try to be better. I know any excuse is unacceptable for my lack of writing BUT, I do have a reason. You see, I haven't had internet in my flat for about three weeks now. And they don't expect it to be working for another week or two.

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You may remember that we have been having issues all semester with the internet. Well, they kept blaming us saying that we were Skyping too much and downloading shows (yes, I did find a way to watch ABC.com from out of the country). However, it turns out that there was a virus already on the server and it has been slowly crashing for the past few months. HA. NOT our fault.

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So, they are currently replacing the entire system. Until then, I can only use the internet when I go to McDonalds, Coffee Republic, or at work. McDonalds doesn't have any plugs so I can only go for about an hour at a time. Coffee Republic requires us to buy things every hour we are there or else they yell and kick us out. Good thing they have some great Peach Iced Tea....the best I've ever had. So here I am studying in London, but I can't really study or write, because I don't have regular access to the internet.

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So here is a little update on my life the past month. I'll make it short and sweet.

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The weeks following our trip to Barcelona were great. I got into a routine and had the chance to really appreciate London. Not just the touristy part, but the people and the culture. I went with Neili to Camden Market and bought myself a leather jacket. This is not something I would normally wear, or would buy from a punk-rock outdoor market, but I thought, why not? I also received a package from the Overman family (I babysit their daughter Langley, my favorite kid in the entire world!). They sent me Tostito chips, and salsa, and....drum roll please...DR. PEPPER. The real stuff, not the British imitation. That package pretty much made that week for me. So thanks!!

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Mom and Nate came to visit the last week of February and stayed until last Sunday. It was incredible to have them here. Not that I have been terribly homesick, but I did miss them a lot. I played tour guide for the first four days and showed them around London. We explored the tube, famous landmarks, and phone booths. We also ate DaMario's pizza three times. Yes, it is that good.

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We then went to Paris for three days and had a wonderful time. The first day we walked from Notre Dame to the Eiffel Tower. I honestly think it was a three mile walk. But totally worth it because we got Mom to go up in the tower and we had the chance to see it lit up at night. Beautiful. The next day we decided to travel to Versailles. The conceirge at the hotel told us a specific train to take and circled it on the map for us. After staring at the monitor with confused looks for a good 15 minutes we finally hopped on the train and an hour and half later we arrived in Versailles. If you ever have the chance you should see it, just don't get crepes from the sketchy vendor outside the gates. He uses frozen crepes and then heats them up and puts minimal nutella. Not ok. After out little adventure we tried to find the train back. It was very busy and confusing so we boarded the first train that said Paris...and 15 minutes later we arrived in Paris.

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If someone could please explain to me how it took us and hour and a half to get there and 15 minutes to get back, that would be great.

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One of the best things about Paris: crepes on every corner. We had at least two a day. YUM.

From Paris we took the night train (from hell) to Venice. Never ever take a night train. Ever. Unless you are guarenteed to have your own room with heating. Mom had to bribe the worker 50 euros to give us our own room away from the man that smelled like an ashtray soaked in Jack and Johnny. To give you a little perspective on the night, even Nate couldn't sleep the entire night. I know, that's saying something.

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We arrived in Venice alive, and lice-free thanks to Mom not allowing us to use the blankets on the train.

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I can't even begin to describe to you how gorgeous Venice is in the sunshine. But we first arrived when it was pouring. We jumped on the boat to take us to our hotel and both Nate and I managed not to get sick. Quite a feat for two of the most motion-sickness prone people in the world.

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Our hotel couldn't have been more opposite than the night train. Definitely lifted our spirits. While in Venice we saw the Murano glass factory and actually got to see a Master create a bowl. We also had some of the best food ever! And I'm not just saying that. Our last meal in Venice consisted of tuna quiche, fresh crab, clams in garclic and butter, fresh salmon, monk fish, and crab pate. We also tried octopus. Interesting. We then had black spaghetti with scallops. My dessert was some sort of passion fruit deliciousness. I think I was literally in a food coma for the next two hours.

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The trip was fantastic and I have been resting this entire week. My friend Jess comes on Sunday for a week! I can't wait! I will probably get to Heathrow three hours early because I will be so excited - possbily with a big sign in tow, we will see.

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Ok. I can officially leave work now. I plan to go home and make a big box of Kraft Mac and Cheese. Mom brought me five boxes and I have five weeks left. I'm rationing.

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Love!

My "favourite" things

My good friend Mara informed me that she would like to see some pictures, and since it was her birthday yesterday I'll oblige. I guess she hasn't been on Facebook to see my five albums. Sidenote: At this point, Mara is calling me sassy. Well, this is for Mara and all those who can't see Facebook or don't have five hours to go through all the pictures. These are my favorite things so far.

Waffles! - We went to Brussels last weekend and I lived on waffles whilst there. Words cannot express how delicious they were. I'm craving as we speak.




Oxford - We went to Oxford for a field trip and got matching sweatshirts. We look like future PTA members. Weird.



Snow day - London was covered with snow and completely shut down. Hilarious. Everyone freaked out and no one knew how to deal with it. I loved it and took so many pictures. This is by far my favorite, not only for the beautiful background but the funny little people struggling through the snow.



Stonehenge - It really is breathtaking up close. Plus, it was sunny that day. Quite a rare occasion here in the UK.



Leo! - We stumbled onto the Revolutionary Road premiere and were mere feet from Leo. I think i'm in love.




Big Ben - The most photographed landmark in the UK. I helped add to that number with the 14 pictures I took of just Big Ben. No big deal.



Piccadilly Circus - This is in almost every single advertising textbook. It is amazing in person.



Well, there is a brief glimpse of what I've seen since I've been here.

I'm off to Barcelona tomorrow morning! Adios!

I am living in the Twilight Zone.

Do you ever have one of those days where you ask yourself, "Is this a joke? This day has to be a joke. Am I still asleep? Is this a dream?" Well, today was one of those days. Here is the run down.

7:29 am - Woke up :30 seconds before my alarm went off. That never happens. I didn't even hit snooze...even weirder.

8:55 am - I ran into an older Pi Phi who graduated last year. We bumped into each other at Earl's Court tube station as we were both going to work. I had totally forgot she was living in London. So nice to see a familiar face. But again...who runs into people they know at a tube station where there are 200 other people?

9:05 am - I board the tube and there are SIX pregnant women in my car. And they weren't even together. They were all sitting or standing seperately. The entire way to work I was just hoping no one went into labor.

1:00 pm - I head to McDonalds for lunch...by myself. Yeah, I don't really have any "lunch friends" at work yet. You should also know that it was pouring all day, so I was rocking my rain-boots with my dress pants. I walked into McDonalds, ordered my food and then went upstairs to find myself a table. There weren't any tables open so I stood awkwardly in the corner while I waited for someone to leave. Thankfully, a woman got up and left within a minute. I set my food on the table and as I set the tray down, my Coke fell over and onto the bench. I grabbed it just before the lid came off. I needed some napkins, so I went over to the little kiosk to grab some. As I am walking, I apparently missed to sign that said "Caution: Wet floor" and completely wiped out. This would have been fine, minus the table of three 16-year-old girls laughing at me. Excuse, why are you not in school? And secondly, why are you so mean? I gathered myself and my pride off the floor and sat back in my slightly sticky seat (from the Coke, remember?). There was a table in between another girl and me and she shot me an encouraging smile across the empty space. That helped a little. I pulled out my book and began to read and enjoy the quiet time. That didn't last long. Moments later, a seemingly homeless woman sat down at the empty table next to me. I didn't really pay attention to her until she starting singing along to "American Boy." By "singing along" I mean "loudly and sporatically screaming the words." After the song, she got up and started walking out. I guess the other girl sitting alone looked at her or something because the woman started screaming at her. Calling her an idiot and making fun of her blue eyeliner. The girl then said "I'm sorry. I wasn't looking at you." The woman continued to yell obscenities at her and then.... She threw her tray and coke at the girl. Seriously. She was out of her mind. I don't know what I would do if I was that girl. I was shaking and I didn't even get Coke thrown on me.

Rest of the day - Thankfully, nothing else too exciting happened. I had my fill today.

On a lighter note:

I need receipes. I'm really grossed out by what I have been eating - carbs, ready meals, carbs, carbs, and more carbs. All we eat is pasta and grilled cheese. So, I am pleading with everyone, please send me receipes. You can email me (MEWolfe@mizzou.edu) or you can put them on here or you can call me or send it via post, I don't care. I just really need some ideas for good, inexpensive, healthy food. (Bree and Mara, this is strongly directed towards you two. Help me out). Please and thank you.

Alright, time to go pack for Brussels.

Love.

Oxford, Harry Potter, and The Eagle and Child

Today is Wednesday. Therefore, we went on a fieldtrip. I seriously feel like I'm in second grade every time I tell someone I'm going on a "fieldtrip." Nonetheless, I actually looked forward to today. We went to Oxford.

I'm kind of a nerd, so I couldn't wait to see the famous school. We all piled in the bus at 7:45 this morning and made our way to Oxford, an hour and a half away. Once we got there, we immediately had a tour of Oxford from Trudy, our trusty tour guide. Here is a Harry Potter reference: She sounds like Moaning Myrtle. Seriously. Ok, back to the tour. We walked all over the grounds, saw the famous library and even had the chance to see inside a dining hall. But the chapel was by far my favorite. Such incredible architecture. So beautiful. Everything is so proper and ancient. By ancient, I mean actually 800 years old.

When we were by the entrance to the campus our tour guide stopped and made us all gather around this spot on the ground. After we all stared at her for a good minute, she decided to tell us what were were looking at.

Trudy: Well, as you all can see, there is a carving in the ground. Now, you all may or may not know that the first Harry Potter was filmed all over Oxford and a majority of it was right here in this square. Daniel Radcliffe wanted to leave his mark so he carved this lightening blot into the ground right here.

Everyone then started to paid attention and crowded around it to get a better look. Yes, I was right at the front of that group. And yes, I got a great picture. Again, sorry for all the Harry Potter references, but we are in the UK. He is a national hero. I'm dead serious.

After we all gawked at the tiny little lightening bolt in the middle of the sidewalk, I mean, "pavement," they gave us four hours of free time. Again, I'm dead serious. We walked straight to the Oxford bookshop were we all purchased striped rugby shirts with the Oxford crest and crew neck sweatshirts, again, with the Oxford crest. And, of course, we all immediately put them on...while we were still in the store. Walking around with our matching sweatshirts, we looked like the PTA board for Oxford. We all had a serious flash forward about 15 years. Scary.

Oxford is a cool city, but it isn't that big. So, what did we do after we bought our super cool sweatshirts? We went and sat in a pub. But not just any pub. We went to The Eagle and Child. This is the pub were J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis sat everyday to drink, eat, and debate. I loved every second. I think I was a little more excited than the rest of my party, but, again, I'm kind of a nerd with those things. I also took a picture of a note they wrote on the wall. Priceless.

We are now back in our flat and attempting to make chili. Rachel is hitting the can with our broken can-opener. It looks like someone with metal teeth has been gnawing on the edge. I'm trying to find Mamma Mia online so we can all watch a movie tonight.

Hope we can open up that chili. It is all the food left in the flat. We should probably go to the store tomorrow.

Love.

Crisis Mode

If you had just walked into central London for the first time, you might have thought it is the end of the world. Central London is currently deserted. No buses running. No tubes working. No businesses open. The city has shut down.

You may be asking why. The reason... 6 inches of snow. Those of you living in the Midwest are probably dying of laughter right now. Let me explain why the city is dead.

London just had more snow than it has in the past 20 years. There were some children today who saw snow for the very first time. Besides being historic and exciting for some children, today was great due to my work giving me the day off. Yes, I had a "Snow Day" today. I don't even get snow days in college but in London they give you days off from life when it flurries. However, it was justified. All the trains were suspended and the buses pulled off the roads. Also, there was not a single snow plow on the road. Not only were they not out and about clearing the roads, but they don't exist in the first place. Trust me, I talked to the transport authority. They said they do not have any plows and had minimal salt. I would think that as one of the largest cities in the world you would have a plan for this sort of thing. Eh, I'm kind of glad they didn't.

Once I found out I didn't have to work, I decided to make the most of my day... and went back to sleep. After my nice nap, I needed to get some lunch and quickly realized I needed to go the grocery store. Unfortunately, the employees couldn't get to the grocery store this morning. No luck there. Thankfully, there is a McDonalds down the street from me. I went with my flatmates and bought a wonderful quarterpounder meal. While walking back, we were bombarded with snowballs. At first, I thought the source was most likely the guys that live below us. However, I soon learned it was a group of grown men frolicking in the snow. One of the men had their small son with him and he was joining in on the fun too. So we were attacked all the way down the street by a group of men playing in the snow. One of my flatmates finally got so fed up she yelled at the little boy. He then paused, stuck out his tounge, and hit her in the face with a snowball. Priceless.

After my delicious lunch, I braved the weather and tried to go meet up with Neili and Michael. I say "tried" because it literally took me 40 minutes to travel 4 tube stops. While waiting for one of the four trains runing that day, I couldn't help but laugh to myself about the way people were behaving. Adults were wearing full-body snowsuits and had on about four hats. One woman had plastic bags wrapped around her shoes. I wish my hands had been warm enough to get out my camera and document the ridiculousness. Eventually, the train arrived and, let me tell you, it was a mad rush. You would have thought that it was the last train to ever come through Earl's Court. It felt more like I was fighting for a place in the last lifeboat of a sinking ship than for a seat on the Eastbound District Line. But don't worry, I made it on the train. I eventually made it to Michael's and we had some delicious pizza and laughed at everyone in the park next to him. There were some pretty impressive snowmen.

Well, I am anxiously waiting to hear if I work tomorrow. There is a good chance I may not have to go tomorrow either.

Thank you, London, for not having snow plows and for running out of salt.

P.S. Most interesting person I saw today: A girl wearing a hat with a cat face and cat ears, taking pictures of the ground. Oh yeah, she had whiskers painted on her face. No big deal.

Superbowl: BBC Style

I'm currently watching the Superbowl via the BBC online broadcast. Let me just say this...it is hilarious. I'm sitting here actually laughing while watching the Superbowl. Well, I'm laughing now, I wasn't earlier. I'm not ashamed to say that I did tear up a little as Jennifer Hudson sang the national anthem. I mean, really, how great is our country? Being so far away really makes me miss it. You know what else I am missing? I really want some chips and salsa right now. And a Dr. Pepper. And some nachos. Basically, I wish I was at a Superbowl party. Instead, I am sitting in my flat watching the game on my computer. Gotta love the Internet though.

Here is the funniest part about all of this. I am forced to listen to British commentary. Yes, a little British man is attempting to explain "American football" to his entire country. Seriously wish you all could see/hear this right now. Best comment so far: (this was in reference to overturning the initial Steeler touchdown)

British Commentator: So, help me get this straight. If any part of your body is touching the ground you are down?
American Commentators: Um, yes. Other than your feet and hands, yes.
British Commentator: So your hands can touch the ground?
American Commentators: (Stifling laughter) Yes. Your hands can touch.
British Commentator: (to audience) For those of you viewing, you can click on the red box to your right and get a complete list of rules to better understand the game. Now, back to the game. Let's see how they fair.

SERIOUSLY? If you are assigned to cover the SUPERBOWL, maybe you should understand FOOTBALL. And by football, I mean the basic rules. I think a four-year-old could do better coverage. Unfortunately, the other American commentators aren't doing much to help clarify. They got the job no one else wanted. They get to do commentary for the Brits while the rest of America watches the commercials. Yes, that is correct. We don't get to see the commercials. We get to listen to a confused Englishman along with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum attempt to do commentary. If it wasn't so incredibly hilarious I would be annoyed. Thankfully, I can watch the commercials online as well.

Question of the hour: Do I stay up and watch the game, or do I go to bed because I have to work in the morning?

Things to consider: It is already midnight here and not even end of 1st quarter. I don't get to see the commercials right now. The English commentator just said something else dumb (a lame joke about American football players).

Well, I think I have my answer.

Divided by a common language

Some people think that since we (meaning Americans) and the English speak the same language then we must be the same. Ohhhh no no. That is not the case at all. A common phrase I keep hearing is "we are divided by a common language." I love this. Mainly because it gives me an excuse for looking like a complete idiot every day at work. For example, when spelling out words (possibly to confirm the spelling of someone's name) even the pronunciation of the letters can be different. For the letter "z," it is not "zee" but "zed." Yes, zed, z-e-d, rhymes with ted. And the letter "h" is pronounced "hayt-ch." Correct, it does sound like someone is sneezing. At first, I was frustrated by this difference in pronunciation, but I eventually became used to it. The actual different words are more difficult to decipher. The following scenario occured last Friday:

Me: Hello, the is Libby Wolfe from the charity Help the Aged and I am calling to inquire about possible sponsorship for our upcoming running events. Could you please direct me to the appropriate person?
Operator: 'Ello love. You will actually need to submit your query in writing.
Me: Alright. Is there an e-mail address?
Operator: Yes love, do you have a pen and paper?
Me: Yes.
Operator: Ok. It is Tim "fullstop" A at highfive co uk.
Me: (awkward pause) Could you please repeat that?
Operator: Sure love, Tim "fullstop" A at highfive co uk.
Me: (even longer awkward pause) Um, sir, could you spell that for me?
Operator: (in a very confused tone) T-I-M "fullstop" A at H-I-G-H-F-I-V-E co uk. (please keep in mind the letter pronunciations I mentioned earlier)
Me: Um, ok, well, um, thanks.
Operator: Cheers!
Me: Uh yeah, cheers.

I actually wrote down "TimfullstopA@highfive.co.uk." I sat at my desk confused for about two minutes and eventually worked up the courage to ask the woman who sits across from me.

Me: Um, Sarah, what does "fullstop" mean?
Sarah: What? You mean "fullstop" as in a "fullstop" at the end of a sentence.
Me: I'm not sure. I don't know what a "fullstop" is...
Sarah: It is the dot at the end of a sentence or in e-mail addresses.
Me: Ohhhhhhh. Ok.
Sarah: (laughing hysterically) What do you call it?
Me: A period?
Sarah: (laughing even more) Oh, that means something else.
Me: Oh. Haha? Thanks.

And that was my Friday at work. Such a fun experience. After that little incident, they all sat around my desk for 30 minutes making me say words to see if they mean something different. We eventually made it to the names of my family members. They all laughed uncontrollably when I came to my dad's name, Chuck. I guess there isn't a single person in England named Chuck. The only Chuck they have heard of is Chuck Norris.

At work I am now known as the "Funny American who can actually make decent tea." There is something to aspire to...

Excuse me

Dear girl sitting across from me on the tube,

Please stop staring at me. Don't deny it, it has been 20 minutes and you always awkwardly dart away your stare when I notice it. I know I am an American, but please, it is embarrassing and makes me uncomfortable. You are distracting me from reading about Chelsey Davey and how orange she looks. However, I think you may be having more trouble reading since your book is UPSIDE DOWN. Also, I don't know what they teach you here in London, but wearing a red and purple scarf with fringe is not ok. Especially when your hair looks like a gigantic fire hydrant (totally unnatural).

Sincerely,

A concerned and slightly creeped out citizen (I use citizen relatively)


P.s. Whoever said Valentine's Day didn't exist in Europe was seriously mistaken. America, would you please stop influencing the rest of the world with your commercialized holidays. Thanks.

Tea is the new Dr. Pepper?

I drank 7 cups of tea today.

There is an office ritual (at least with the events team) where on the hour, every hour, someone takes all the mugs on a little tray to the kitchen. They then prepare each person's tea to their specifications. I drink my tea with a lot of milk and sugar. I have been told that by the end of my fourth months I will be drinking real English tea, not the "weak stuff" I currently enjoy.

After Tea # 4, I started feeling a bit bad that I wasn't contributing and preparing drinks for everyone. So for the tea at 2, I told them all I wanted to learn how to make tea correctly so I could pitch in. Patrik, Fiona and Camilla gladly accompanied me to the kitchen. I have two theories about their eagerness to join. Theory 1: They couldn't pass up the chance to watch an American attempt to make tea. Theory 2: They wanted to make sure I didn't make "rubbish" tea that they would then have to drink politely.

I think it was a combination of the two. They did laugh with me (yes, I was laughing at myself) and they did have to correct me. Let me explain how to make tea correctly.

Step 1: Fill the pitcher with water and set it on the special heater it comes with that boils it in about one minute. It is important that you boil it this way and do not cheat by simply using the hot water out of the water cooler.

Step 2: Select the correct tea bags for each individual and place them in the empty mugs. There is white tea, green tea, red tea, and black tea (this is just basic tea). It is IMPERATIVE that you put the right bags in the right mugs.

Step 3: Pour the boiled water into the mugs to the appropriate level. Now, depending on the mug (as all are different sizes) you put in different amounts. Don't forget to leave room for the milk.

Note: Patrik explained to me that there is some debate over whether you put milk or water in first. But he so willingly informed me that the CORRECT way to make tea is to put the WATER in first.

Step 4: Let the tea bags sit. Different people prefer different strenghts of tea, so you must know how long to keep the bags in for the different mugs. Mine stay in for approximately 8 seconds. Everyone else's stay in for about 30. Use the plastic spoon to swirl it around.

Step 5: Use the spoon to take the tea bag out. Let it drain for a moment and then throw it away.

Step 6: Pour in the milk. Again, each person likes a specific amount of milk in their tea. You can determine the strenght of the tea by the color once you add milk. I prefer very very very light tea. Patrik likes dark tea. Fiona and Camilla are in the middle.

Step 7: Add sugar for the American. Fiona had to search for a packet of sugar so I could pour it in my tea. No one else uses sugar.

Step 8: The English will then start drinking their tea immediately. I have to wait five minutes. Apparently, they already burnt off all their taste buds and killed their nerves in their mouths. I have grown somewhat attached to mine. I think I'll wait and let it cool.

Step 9: Repeat one hour later.

So far, I'm pretty sure I have learned more about making tea than event planning. But hey...when in London...

Love.

A tour guide named Tony....and the rest of my week.

Sorry it has been a while.

I started work this week and have been trying to adjust to my new schedule.

We also went to Stonehenge and Bath on Wednesday. Somehow we missed the memo that it was a three hour drive there and then 3 hours back. We also had possibly the craziest tour guide ever. He literally talked for the entire 6 hours we spent in transit. I think I know him better than some of my relatives. He thinks everything British is so much better than anything American and made sure we knew what he thought. Here is a little excerpt:

Tour Guide: We here in the UK value our safety and have very strict regulations. When you all travel there are some things you need to know. You are not allowed to take liquids on board. You are only allowed to take 3 oz in a zip-lock bag.

Kid in the back: Dude, we had 9-11. We started all of that

Tour Guide: Yes, well I think we are much more strict and are much for difficult to get past. You see...we have excellent security. It is much different.

Image 3 hours of that. The other three hours (on the way home, while we are all sleeping) was something like this:

Tour Guide: As you will learn we love football, or as you say socccccccer. Americans like to believe they are as good as us. However, only about 3 Americans have ever been good enough to play in the UK.

The entire bus groans

Tour Guide: Oh, it looks as though you are awake. I thought you were all sleeping...

Kid in the back: We WERE and then you started talking.....

Tour Guide: Oh, well then, I can tell you all more about football. (He then proceeds to discuss football for 46 minutes.)

As you could probably tell, the kid in the back is super sassy. We should be friends.

But besides the field trip, my week has consisted of work. I'm starting to finally get into a routine here, which is really nice.

Today was probably one of the best days so far. It isn't that I did much or anything. I just worked and came home. But you know those moments when you look around and you realize you are really content. Not ecstatic, but not depressed. Just really happy and content with your life.

Well, I had a moment like that today.

I was walking to the King's Cross tube station from work. I had my warm trench coat on with my warm scarf. It was a very nice evening out. Not too cold and not raining. I remembered to use my purse that zipped. I refuse to get robbed. Also, the shuffle mode on my iPod was making me so happy. So I'm rocking out to my iPod, walking down the street and I just looked around me and realized that I was actually LIVING in London. I of course have realized before that I was IN London, obviously, but never before have I actual felt like I lived here. I finally understand the tube, I don't need to look at the map, I just know what train I need. I don't need to look down at the street to see what way I look before crossing (right first, then left). I don't need to stare at the coins to try and figure out which ones I need to use, I know the big octagons are 50p and the little ones are 20p. It all is finally making sense.

Such a good feeling.

Love.

P.s. I'm going to start carrying around travel sized deodorants and body spray to give to people on the tube. Seriously, they need some guidance.

Holiday Inn on Carburton St.

My roommate Rachel and I tried to go to church this morning. I have been emailing Brock and Bodie Thoene (2 of my favorite authors) about the church they attend while here in London. They then directed me to the pastor Ron Anderson who gave me directions to where the congregation is meeting. They usually meet in St. Mark's Church, but the government is attempting to seize the historic building to turn it into a museum or gallery or something. So, until that is figured out, they are all meeting in the Holiday Inn on Carburton Street near Regent's Park. I found the location of the Holiday Inn on Google maps and figured out what tube station I needed.

So Rachel and I got up early and rode to Great Portland Street station. Now, if you know anything about me, you know that I am fairly decent with directions. I usually know where I am going and if I am unsure I make sure I have looked at a map and understand how to get to my destination. So, as usual, I had looked at the map and knew where I needed to go. We stepped out of the tube station and all of a sudden nothing looked like the map I had studied.

Google maps told me there was one main street, I saw three. It also told me there would be a street to my right that I would go straight dowm, no such street existed. Also, if anyone has been to London before they know that street signs are not a huge priority. Only about 50% of streets have them and the ones that do have signs that are put on the sides of building that face two streets at the same time. So we attempted to find the street we needed and ended up walking around for 35 minutes looking like fools. We asked several people if they knew how to get to Carburton St. and they looked at us as if we were speaking Chinese. Needless to say, we never found it.

I have several theories:

1. The Holiday Inn does not exist.
2. There is more than one Great Portland Street tube station.
3. Google maps is seriously messed up.
4. I am losing my mind.

It is probably the last one.

Well, better luck next week.

Love.

Saturday

Here is a quick update:

• Neili arrived! Michael and I picked her up and besides getting lost while carrying her 67 pound bag, it was a wonderful day.
  
• The shower works again!
• I actually slept in!
• It is sunny today! Yes, the sky is actually blue right now.

I'm off to go book my trip to Paris for next weekend, then shopping at Oxford Circus, and tea at the Orangery.

Love.

Help the Aged

I had my interview today. It went extremely well and I got the internship. I will be working at Help the Aged. That is pronounced age-id. I awkwardly learned that when I mispronounced it to my supervisor. When it merges with another charity on April 1 (not a joke), it will be the largest charity in the UK and the largest charity internationally that advocates the elderly. I will be working with the events team on Monday, Thursday and Friday. My primary responsibilities will be helping liaise with the celebrities and politicians that support the charity and planning events. The next upcoming event is a golf day. They told me I will learn more about it on Monday.

While the interview went well, the rest of the day I was struggling. I woke up and went to take a shower. Don't worry, our shower still wasn't fixed. Therefore, I stood in the tub and held the hose over my head. Unfortunately, the hose is not long enough to reach the top of my head, so I have to basically do wall squats to wash my hair. The landlord came 30 minutes after I showered and put the head back on the hose, but it still is not attached to the wall. We are hoping that tomorrow it will be firmly attached to the wall. But I don't think that will fix the stench. There is a weird smell that comes out of the shower whenever someone uses it. We have decided that it might be calcium buildup or something. We are Journalism majors, not chemists. If anyone has any ideas, please let me know.

I also got stuck in the gate thing for the tube today. Someone had gone right before me and then I put my Oyster card on the sensor too early and tried to walk through and it closed on me as I was half way through. Then I had to "seek assistance" from the Indian man on duty. He didn't seem to pleased. He told me I needed to top up my card. So I went to top up and I couldn't get my card to work. Then the man had to come over again and do it for me. He really didn't like me. But I did eventually get on the tube.

Now we are trying to figure out how to watch ABC on the internet. I guess only people living in the US can watch ABC.com. I think they should amend that to include citizens living overseas. I would really like to watch The Bachelor right now and it isn't on any of the other sites like surfthechannel or hulu or sidereel. One girl figured out how to get around it though, so we are calling her.

Love.

Too cool for umbrellas

I had the chance to sleep in this morning. We didn't have class. I don't work yet. No tours. However, I didn't get to capitalize on this opportunity.

That is because there is this really loud train.

Yes, it is below my window and yes, it does go by every 3 minutes. Apparently, I will get used to it. Until, I may invest in earplugs.

After the train rudely woke me, I thought I would take a shower. Taking a shower here is not what I would describe as relaxing. I finally prepared myself mentally and emotionally and slipped on my shower shoes.

When I walked into the bathroom, this is what I saw:



Early that morning, the shower head fell off the wall. It was then only the head on the hose. Water still ran from the head (and I use "ran" generously), but you had to hold the shower nozzle above your head. So, my shower took about 30 minutes and I think I still have conditioner in my hair right now. Since then, the actual shower head has fallen off. We now have to shower using a hose. Dear maintenance: Help!


But neither of those were going to get me down. I was going to hang out with Michael today! For those of you who don't know, Michael is Neili's boyfriend who goes to Michigan and is also studying here in London. So Michael and I decided to play while we anxiously await Neili's arrival Friday.

Michael lives in Waterloo. It is about a 10-minute tube ride. So, I put on my coat, grabbed my Oyster card and bravely made my way to Earl's Court station down the street. I rode the tube two days ago for the first time and was with about five girls. I hadn't ridden it since. I pulled out my card. Swiped it. No problems. Made my was the escalator.

Ok. Here we go. I need the District Line. District. Hmmm. I wonder why they named it that? Ok. Focus. Do I need Eastbound or Westbound. Wait, what way is East here? I'll just look at the map. Ok, I need Eastbound.

I headed down another escalator and found myself on the platform. Unfortunately, there were two different trains on this station.

What?! Two trains?! Umm....ok, let me see. I don't know what this sign means. Maybe if I walk past it again. I don't want to stand here and make it look like I don't know what I am doing. Ok, that sign isn't helping. This train looks ok. I guess I'll just get on this one.

I stepped on the train and saw that it was indeed the District Line. The rest of the trip was a breeze. I switched to the Eastbound Jubilee Line and then exited at Waterloo Station. I was a little ahead of schedule so Michael wasn't there yet. I decided to get a Coke at the McDonald's attached to the tube station. I ordered a medium Coke.


Get serious! It is the same if not smaller than a small in the states. Ridiculous. I took that down in about three sips, almost stepped on two pigeons (yes, inside the McDonald's) and then met Michael outside. We decided to walk 1.3 miles to the British Museum. One thing I love about London is that all the museums are completely free. As we walked from Waterloo to the museum, we passed over the Thames, saw Big Ben, the London Eye, the Lyceum Theatre where Lion King is showing, and all the theatres for Dirty Dancing, Oliver, and Hairspray. On the way it started to mist. I got very excited because I had actually brought my umbrella! I looked around before I pulled it out and notice that not one Londoner was using an umbrella. Seriously?! Everyone was just walking in the rain. Well, I sure wasn't going to be a lame American, so I battled nature. By the time we got to the museum, my wonderfully straight hair had started to resemble that of a chia pet.

Here we are at the museum entrance:


Unfortunately, the museum wasn't exactly riveting. We walked in and stared at the map for about 10 seconds and then decided to wing it. One of the most exciting parts was finding a map on the ground that would originally cost 2 pounds. Thank you to whoever threw that on the floor. The other interesting part was eavesdropping on the back of a tour talking about the Rosetta Stone. This is after we had been staring at the wrong side of the rock for five minutes.

Michael: So where is the writing?
Me: Yeah, how did they ever decipher this? There aren't any letters or pictures.
Michael: I thought there would be actual writing you could see.
Me: Yeah, this is lame. Why are all those people standing on the other side of the glass?
Michael: I think they are part of a tour.
Me: What's on that side?
(we walk over to see that side of the stone)
Me and Michael: Ohhhhhhhhh.

I promise, we really are smart. That is when we stood at the back of the tour and listened to the tour guide talk about how the British took yet another artifact from someone else.

After reading all the descriptions about the various sculptures (pieces of the Parthenon, Egyptian ruins, etc), we decided that 75% of all the art in that museum was taken from someone else during some kind of war.

These two were our favorites: (Notice that neither look like they were chopped off a big stone and taken)





We also noticed that the North America exhibit only held about ten items.


Michael said this is all they could take during their short stint over there. The sign on the display also explained that Native Americans all over North America and the plains hunt herds of animals. Um, I live in Kansas, you don't get more "plains" than that, and I have never seen a Native American hunting. Maybe it's just me, but I'm pretty sure there aren't any herds of buffalo meandering through Overland Park.

After we had spent an hour in the museum, we decided we had seen enough and left. Thankfully, it had stopped raining and we had a lovely walk back to Waterloo. I then took the train to Gloucester station because I had to meet with my advisers on campus about my internship and upcoming interview. I had no problems this time and looked quite at home on the tube. At least I like to think I did.

During my meeting with my advisers I found out that I will be an event planning intern at Help the Aged, one of the largest charities in London. I believe that I will be planning an awards ceremony that the Prime Minister's wife hosts. I was told that celebrities and politicians are the huge backers of this charity, so I will be working closely with them and hosting events. I'm definitely fine with that!! My interview is Thursday at 3:00. Tomorrow I will take the tube and find the company so I don't get lost on Thursday.

Sorry this is about 383 paragraphs. It was a very long and eventful day!

Love.