So I’ve received some commentary about how I’m not going into enough detail, so since I just got out of class I though I’d write a little about the academia scene here in Londytown.
We have class four days a week right now (Fridays off, eehee!). The semester is broken into two halves, and for the first half I’m taking two classes and for the second half I’ll be taking one class and doing an internship. Right now I'm taking British Economic Policies and Advertising in the UK. For the second half my class is History of British Pop Culture. Our classes are four hours long since we don’t have them for very many weeks but need to squeeze in a semester’s worth of hours, and after a week of class I’m pretty confident that four hours straight of one subject, two days in a row, is some sort of medieval torture device that has been resurrected for our program. British Econ is interesting but kind of a dry subject in general, and our teacher is crazy and runs on three hours of sleep – she has a really hard time understanding why our eyes are all closing between 9am-12pm. Advertising is a little more manageable because it’s from 1pm-5pm, Alex is in my class, and we watch lots and lots of British commercials and discuss them. They’re very different from American commercials, particularly since British people would prefer to be entertained rather than know what it is they’re supposed to buy. See: Cadbury commercial with a gorilla drumming to Phil Collins music. What?
In terms of my internship, I got an offer from a retail clothing/accessories company that I went on an interview for, but I decided to turn it down and try to do something a little different while I’m here. The company seemed cool and definitely had clothing that I would wear from the looks of things, and my interviewer was extremely friendly, but I felt hesitant about the whole thing. Between working at J.Crew and my past internship working with accessories and such, I’ve done a lot in that area and I think I should expand my horizons. Hopefully I actually get another internship and didn’t just throw away the only company in this country that wants me ☺ Keep your fingers crossed?
I’ve been working on absorbing British culture, starting with Reggie and my excursion to the Royal Opera House to see Sleeping Beauty. We had some difficultly locating the venue, and some trouble locating the tube station thereafter, but the actual ballet was pretty awesome! Reggie was very good at interpreting all the gestures that the fairies were making and how they corresponded to the Disney movie… I had no idea what was going on (I was entertained by the costumes alone) so thank god she was there to go through what had happened in between each act. Towards the end there were some other fairytale characters frolicking about for an extra hour or so, but all in all it was a great night. Reggie, Claire, and I went to see Sister Act, the musical last night, which was hilarious and a pretty close interpretation of the movie. Catchy songs and nun-ensembles dripping with sparkles are clearly the recipe for awesomeness.
Okay, dinnertime now… our kitchen smells like it’s been set on fire. Wonderful. Cheers!
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
Tuesday, 19 January 2010
Tickety-Boo - Going Well
Hello there! I’ve been rather busy lately getting into the swing of classes and tourism and all, but I’m progressing in my London-ish abilities. I’ve taken the tube LOTS which is more than I could say last time I blogged, so there. I also learned after two painful evenings that wearing heels out is a no-go. Cobblestone streets aren’t the same as sidewalks in downtown Lewisburg – noted.
We’ve gotten some touristy hotspots checked off the list, although we’re still planning on taking a hop-on/hop-off bus to get a whole bunch of them covered. Last Friday a group of us went to see the Tower of London and enjoyed a tour by a particularly rambunctious beef-eater/drill sergeant. He liked to quiz us and threaten death if we got our facts wrong. It was charming. We drooled over the crown jewels, particularly the Star of Africa diamond (530 clear carats, holy hell) and puzzled over the Great Punch Bowl (actual name. For the Royal Punch, we presume). There was a little British boy on one of the teensy tinsy spiral staircases in one of the towers who was having a hard time getting down and said to his mom, “the stairs are so roundy! I can’t manage!” which I thought was a pretty impressive sentence for like, a 5-year-old. There are little British kids in their preschool uniforms spouting SAT vocab left and right here, I love them. Finally, the day was finished off by a stop at Subway, for sandwiches, because we still are Americans, after all.
On Sunday we took a trip to Windsor Castle, which is nifty because the Queen actually still vacations there occasionally. We took a bus at 9am (EARLY) and our tour guide decided to make an impromptu stop in some fields where the Magna Carta was first signed. Our bus driver almost passed out when Megan asked him what the Magna Carta was (none of us really knew). We made the executive decision not to trek through some fields to behold a gazebo marking the landmark, and stayed on the bus (sorry to disappoint. Like I said, it was early). A rather sizable plot of land that was a gift from England to America was pointed out to us while we were sitting on the bus. We immediately noticed that this piece of American land in the suburbs of London was covered in trash. When we asked our bus driver why it was littered, he refused to acknowledge the presence of the garbage. Even when we cited specific bits, like beer cans, and trash bags. Thanks, England. When we finally arrived at Windsor Castle we got to enjoy Queen Anne’s dollhouse, in which everything is scaled down twelve times and most things are fully functional. Unfortunately we couldn’t go into the famous chapel, because it was Sunday, and we couldn’t see the state apartments, because they were being cleaned. Maybe we should go back there sometime and see, you know, half of the attractions that were closed when we went. Besides our tour guide alternating between either abandoning us or insisting on over-emphasizing random points (“This is the crooked house. As you can see, it’s crooked. It is not straight.”) it was a sunny, mostly successful day of tourism.
Time for bed now, I have class at 9am tomorrow :( Cheers!
Megan, Ally, Lauren, Alex, Reggie, & I got our doorman/security guard (?)
to take a picture of us before going out on...
a night other than Reggie's birthday... The night of heels :(
Wine in our flat!
Aw, what cute tourists. Reggie, Alex, Megan, Me, & Ally in front of the Tower Bridge.
Tower of London!
We’ve gotten some touristy hotspots checked off the list, although we’re still planning on taking a hop-on/hop-off bus to get a whole bunch of them covered. Last Friday a group of us went to see the Tower of London and enjoyed a tour by a particularly rambunctious beef-eater/drill sergeant. He liked to quiz us and threaten death if we got our facts wrong. It was charming. We drooled over the crown jewels, particularly the Star of Africa diamond (530 clear carats, holy hell) and puzzled over the Great Punch Bowl (actual name. For the Royal Punch, we presume). There was a little British boy on one of the teensy tinsy spiral staircases in one of the towers who was having a hard time getting down and said to his mom, “the stairs are so roundy! I can’t manage!” which I thought was a pretty impressive sentence for like, a 5-year-old. There are little British kids in their preschool uniforms spouting SAT vocab left and right here, I love them. Finally, the day was finished off by a stop at Subway, for sandwiches, because we still are Americans, after all.
On Sunday we took a trip to Windsor Castle, which is nifty because the Queen actually still vacations there occasionally. We took a bus at 9am (EARLY) and our tour guide decided to make an impromptu stop in some fields where the Magna Carta was first signed. Our bus driver almost passed out when Megan asked him what the Magna Carta was (none of us really knew). We made the executive decision not to trek through some fields to behold a gazebo marking the landmark, and stayed on the bus (sorry to disappoint. Like I said, it was early). A rather sizable plot of land that was a gift from England to America was pointed out to us while we were sitting on the bus. We immediately noticed that this piece of American land in the suburbs of London was covered in trash. When we asked our bus driver why it was littered, he refused to acknowledge the presence of the garbage. Even when we cited specific bits, like beer cans, and trash bags. Thanks, England. When we finally arrived at Windsor Castle we got to enjoy Queen Anne’s dollhouse, in which everything is scaled down twelve times and most things are fully functional. Unfortunately we couldn’t go into the famous chapel, because it was Sunday, and we couldn’t see the state apartments, because they were being cleaned. Maybe we should go back there sometime and see, you know, half of the attractions that were closed when we went. Besides our tour guide alternating between either abandoning us or insisting on over-emphasizing random points (“This is the crooked house. As you can see, it’s crooked. It is not straight.”) it was a sunny, mostly successful day of tourism.
Time for bed now, I have class at 9am tomorrow :( Cheers!
Megan, Ally, Lauren, Alex, Reggie, & I got our doorman/security guard (?)to take a picture of us before going out on...
a night other than Reggie's birthday... The night of heels :(
Wine in our flat!
Aw, what cute tourists. Reggie, Alex, Megan, Me, & Ally in front of the Tower Bridge.
Tower of London!Tuesday, 12 January 2010
Knackered - Tired Out
Since I’ve noticed so many so far, I’m going to name all of my posts after a relevant, or irrelevant British term. An educational aspect, if you will. So enjoy that.
Last night we ended up at an Irish/American pub in Piccadilly called O’Neil’s. We thought it was right up our ally and pretty cool, but we were later informed that it was considered trashy and frowned upon by British kids our age. Clearly we have to work on our taste. Woops. The British boys we talked to were pretty informative, and they told me that American accents aren’t grossly offensive, they’re just viewed as more casual than the proper speech used in England. I can live with that. I also learned that the words “fabulous” and “beautiful” are thrown around as often as possible, when describing just about anything. For example, one boy thought that the Arsenal football (soccer) team played “beautiful football.” Don’t know if many American boys describe their sports like that. I promptly told him his adjective selection seemed similar to that of a stereotypical American gay guy. He and his friend then started practicing how to say “fabulous” with an American accent… it was pretty hysterical.
We had dinner with our flat tonight at an Italian restaurant in Kensington, avoiding traditional English food at all costs, thank you very much. Afterwards we roamed around and ended up finding a little shop with a whole American food section, woohoo! Skippy peanut butter was displayed front and center, even though the English grocery store we went to a few days ago did have peanut butter (contrary to my expectations. What I didn’t expect were unrefrigerated eggs, on a shelf). Also available at the store were Better Crocker cake mix, Aunt Jemima maple syrup, and a box of Cheerios for 8 POUNDS. Seriously. I guess some people get desperate? It’s actually pretty difficult to find exactly what you’re looking for most of the time, because literally every single brand is different here, so you have to pay attention to the descriptions and ingredients and all… it makes grocery shopping complicated. That plus the slight language subtleties are definitely the biggest difference I’ve noticed thus far, considering the weather seems pretty similar to Pennsylvania/Connecticut still.
Apparently they call underwear “pants” here. I found this out because I told someone who recently moved from the States to London that I would probably need some dress pants for my internship later in the semester. She said if I asked for dress pants I would get a) laughed at b) pointed to a fancy underwear section. I don’t need either of those reactions. What I do need are dress TROUSERS.
Cheers!
Last night we ended up at an Irish/American pub in Piccadilly called O’Neil’s. We thought it was right up our ally and pretty cool, but we were later informed that it was considered trashy and frowned upon by British kids our age. Clearly we have to work on our taste. Woops. The British boys we talked to were pretty informative, and they told me that American accents aren’t grossly offensive, they’re just viewed as more casual than the proper speech used in England. I can live with that. I also learned that the words “fabulous” and “beautiful” are thrown around as often as possible, when describing just about anything. For example, one boy thought that the Arsenal football (soccer) team played “beautiful football.” Don’t know if many American boys describe their sports like that. I promptly told him his adjective selection seemed similar to that of a stereotypical American gay guy. He and his friend then started practicing how to say “fabulous” with an American accent… it was pretty hysterical.
We had dinner with our flat tonight at an Italian restaurant in Kensington, avoiding traditional English food at all costs, thank you very much. Afterwards we roamed around and ended up finding a little shop with a whole American food section, woohoo! Skippy peanut butter was displayed front and center, even though the English grocery store we went to a few days ago did have peanut butter (contrary to my expectations. What I didn’t expect were unrefrigerated eggs, on a shelf). Also available at the store were Better Crocker cake mix, Aunt Jemima maple syrup, and a box of Cheerios for 8 POUNDS. Seriously. I guess some people get desperate? It’s actually pretty difficult to find exactly what you’re looking for most of the time, because literally every single brand is different here, so you have to pay attention to the descriptions and ingredients and all… it makes grocery shopping complicated. That plus the slight language subtleties are definitely the biggest difference I’ve noticed thus far, considering the weather seems pretty similar to Pennsylvania/Connecticut still.
Apparently they call underwear “pants” here. I found this out because I told someone who recently moved from the States to London that I would probably need some dress pants for my internship later in the semester. She said if I asked for dress pants I would get a) laughed at b) pointed to a fancy underwear section. I don’t need either of those reactions. What I do need are dress TROUSERS.
Cheers!
Monday, 11 January 2010
Poppycock - Stuff; Senseless Talk
Hello there. I’ve decided to start blogging because after living at 14 Queen’s Gate, Kensington, London, for approximately three-ish days, I think I’ve acknowledged where I am. Possibly because today we went on a boat tour and saw Big Ben, The London Eye, the Tower of London, and a whole host of other touristy landmarks that confirmed we weren’t in like some random corner of Boston by accident. That and those red double decker buses flying around every other corner (pedestrians do not have the right-of-way, don’t be fooled).
The flight over was all kinds of miserable, between the tiny cramped seat, a total three hours of sleep, and a minor panic attack that my luggage had chosen not to make the trip. Then there was the fiasco at our first official lunch in London, where ordering ice water was the most confusing request our waiter had dealt with in a while, and resulted in some glasses of water along with a bowl of ice cubes and a spoon. Thanks. After that and some other minor obstacles, we’ve finally started to settle in for the long haul (or… four-month-haul?). The initial wave of errands seems to be dying down so hopefully now we’ll have time during the day to do fun things instead of Google-map the nearest grocery store.
We’re off to pub night at Imperial College, right across the street, so maybe we’ll meet some British folk who aren’t shocked and appalled by how we’ve butchered their language? We shall see!
More later, cheers?
p.s. From the boat tour- this is a pretty poor quality picture but I didn't want to be boring and post pics of Big Ben and those typical landmarks, so I give you... The Millennium Bridge! From Harry Potter! Anyone?
The flight over was all kinds of miserable, between the tiny cramped seat, a total three hours of sleep, and a minor panic attack that my luggage had chosen not to make the trip. Then there was the fiasco at our first official lunch in London, where ordering ice water was the most confusing request our waiter had dealt with in a while, and resulted in some glasses of water along with a bowl of ice cubes and a spoon. Thanks. After that and some other minor obstacles, we’ve finally started to settle in for the long haul (or… four-month-haul?). The initial wave of errands seems to be dying down so hopefully now we’ll have time during the day to do fun things instead of Google-map the nearest grocery store.
We’re off to pub night at Imperial College, right across the street, so maybe we’ll meet some British folk who aren’t shocked and appalled by how we’ve butchered their language? We shall see!
More later, cheers?
The London Eye :)
p.s. From the boat tour- this is a pretty poor quality picture but I didn't want to be boring and post pics of Big Ben and those typical landmarks, so I give you... The Millennium Bridge! From Harry Potter! Anyone?
Lauren, Me, & Reggie at the airport... Bye NYC.
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