I love Me Some 90's

None of this ipad business, this is the good stuff...

http://www.chacha.com/topic/christmas-list/gallery/1628/a-90s-kid-s-christmas-list

Between my siblings and me, I think we owned most of this stuff, from pogs and tamagotchis down to the red jeep.  We were even lucky enough to have N64.

Sweden

 My amazing trip to Sweden with my amazing friend, Kate, and staying with an amazing Swedish family, was the perfect way to end my study abroad.


I have been missing study abroad since the moment I landed in America.


True, America is great, and I am glad I live here, but still.


One plus to being home- I can sit at home being as antisocial as I want, whenever I want.


On the other side, I miss my friends.  I miss my friends in Utah, and I miss my friends from London.


At least arianna is coming on sunday and my siblings are coming after that!



Malou let us borrow her numerous fur coats.  How have I survived all my life without one of these?

Stockholm was decked out for Christmas.  It was perfect.

This amazing family took us bowling our first night there, 

and let us join in on some holiday baking.

McY D's

I never thought the day would come when I'd go to McDonald's on a regular basis to meet my nutritional needs.  But here it is.  I've gone more times than I can count this study abroad.   I can't help it.  It's cheap.  It's delicious.  It tastes like America.  Most importantly, it is satisfying. I go there not because I am hungry, but seems to be the only meal these days that leaves me feeling satisfied.  Does my body really just need a good 99 pence cheeseburger in its system?  Maybe.  All I know is that those golden arches bring me happiness.

Luckily, I only have 2 more weeks in London (which is sad) but it means not much time left to gain huge amounts of weight.  So... I may not do anything to kick this McDonald's habit.

One random tid bit conclusion I have come to:  I don't like the crust on my sandwiches.  I love cheeseburgers because they don't have a crust.

I also want to give a shout out to BK for a delicious chicken sandwich I had today.  I judged you too soon.

Gelato

Out of all the things I loved about Rome, the food I think wins.  I guess this isn't too surprising, good food holds an important place in my life.  But nonetheless, I am now a thin crust pizza fan.  I am also, like many others before me, a Gelato Convert.  


Don't get me wrong, I will always be a loyal UDF and Graeter's customer.  But I mean come on, how do you compete with real gelato?


We got gelato at least twice a day, sometimes three times.   The best place we found was Giolitti.  I find it hard to believe you could beat my combination:  Strawberry, Chocolate, and Hazelnut.  I don't even usually pick fruity flavors, but this strawberry tasted like you were eating strawberries.  I don't know how else to describe it.  The cream on top makes it.

I asked for a medium, I promise.  The first time I went in I got a small in a cup.  This was to be my last gelato in Rome so I had to go all out.  The guy at the counter, who had served me the day before, had told me a cone was better when I got a cup.  So I went with the chocolate dipped cone the second time around.  He was right.  It was better.

Bonjour from Paris!

This city is beautiful, dirty, romantic, cold, rainy, rude, and polite, all at the same time.

I think this thing is more impressive looking up at it than from the top.  But it is pretty impressive either way!  It definitely exceeded my expectations!

 Notre Dame- It was cool to see the rain coming out of their mouths!

 Sacre Coeur- beautiful sunset over the city.

 Versailles- Um, this day was amazing.  Versailles is ridiculous.  My favorite thing in Paris was riding the bikes at Versailles surrounded by the fall leaves.  It felt like a dream.  It was perfect!

I love Paris.  I love the paninis and crepes I ate everyday in Paris.  I love these girls who ate paninis and crepes with me in Paris everyday.

Life the way it's meant to be lived.

Hm. I knew I couldn't keep the frequent blogging up for long. Oh well.

The last few weeks have been great, as expected.

I loved the trip to scotland and northern england! Both

places were beautiful. I have never enjoyed hiking so much. With all the moving from hostel to hostel, it felt like camping. None of us seemed to bring enough clothes, so after the first 3 days we were all wearing dirty clothes that still smelled like the first hostel. But it was great. I kind of like getting to just go grunge because that is your only

option. Kind of like when I rocked the off-the-plane look my first few days in london. It's like most days you have the responsibility to actually "get ready" because you can, so it felt freeing to not feel that pressure.

One of my happiest moments from the trip was driving through the english countryside after visiting Chatsworth

(also known as pemberley) while watching Pride and Prejudice on the bus. It was pure bliss.

As fun as that trip was, it was nice to get back home to the London centre. Every day here is a new adventure, but not stressful. We have classes in the morning then usually the rest of the day to explore. Sometimes homework is thrown in there. Sometimes.

We've gone paddle boating,

seen "Wicked",

been to Cambridge (and went punting on the river!)

visited more museums,

toured St. Paul's cathedral (the stairs from Harry Potter!),

zumba,

Hung out with Taylor Lautner at the abduction premiere,

walked through Kew Gardens,

had some church activities,

seen "Much Ado About Nothing" at the Globe theatre,

toured Buckingham Palace (and seen Kate's dress!),

and have had delicious mexican food (where we were also brought 6 glasses of tequila, even after explaining that we don't drink,

and a free dessert platter for Fran's birthday (which is in october, but close enough...) even though we had already downed one. When we ordered the first platter, we asked the waiter if it would be enough for all of us and he replied, "I hope so." Well it wasn't.

It took us 3 minutes to eat the first platter, and 3 minutes to sing happy birthday and eat the second one. It was a great night.

I've become even more obsessed with food than I was before. This isn't good. Something is going to need to change. I don't really know how to explain it, because it isn't like the food here is really better than America. I think that is the problem. It is harder to find good food that doesn't cost too much, so we have become obsessed with finding it. Sadly McDonalds has become something close to a staple in our diets.

I need to exercise more. I wish zumba wasn't so expensive.

Arianna is getting bangs tomorrow. We are pumped for her.

View from St. Paul's cathedral

Settling In

This past week or so has been a lot of settling in, even moments of missing America, but it has been great. I mean how could life not be great when you are living and learning in London with a great group of people? I was going to say great group of girls, but my two directors, John and Peter, are great as well.

Our assignments have been walking around London and going to museums, with a little bit of sketching and writing thrown in there. I am sure the balance will switch more to the sketching and writing sooner or later, but for now I am enjoying the way it is.

We shop on Oxford Street (mainly at Primark, we're already needing a break from that store).

We take the tube.

We ride the bus.

We walk.

We go to Portabello Market.

We tour the Tour of London
We see Musicals (Legally Blonde!)

We visit the Victoria and Albert Museum, the National Gallery, the British Museum, and the Tate Museum of Modern Art.

We eat the same thing for breakfast and lunch everyday, with a mystery meal for dinner.

We go out at night, laugh, get yelled at, and fulfill our role as loud americans most of the time.

What I am most amazed about is how much I have enjoyed the museums. My whole life before this I'd do just about anything before I spend hours in a museum. I am shocked a the speed and extent that this has changed.

My first day here, I got to the centre, dropped off my bags, changed my shirt, then headed out with Peter to go to the Victoria and Albert museum. We walked through Hyde Park to get there, so it was fun having my own personal little tour, even if I was only half awake. He dropped me off at the museum and told me to meet back in the front at 3:30, the other girls should be there then too. So after getting myself a chocolate croissant at the cafe, I wandered. And I loved it. True, I couldn't let myself sit for too long or else I'd fall asleep, but that wasn't the museum's fault. I love walking through a museum by myself, getting to spend as much or as little time on something as I want.

The National Gallery was next on the list. We had to pick a painting to sit in front of for 30 minutes then write a paper on it. I chose "Dido Rebuilding Carthage," probably because I kind

of knew what it was actually about, but also because I thought it was beautiful. So many of the paintings I found myself wanting to sit in front of. The biggest realization I had here was how much better these paintings are in real life. I had seen some in my humanities class before on a powerpoint, but real life is a different ball game.

The Tate was fantastic. This is again coming from someone who thinks most modern art is ridiculous because it looks like a child could do it. But, this is where my great professors come in. Peter walked through one of the exhibits with us, and I experienced something with modern art I still can't explain. All I know is, there is more to it than I thought. I actually really like some of it. One thing I still struggle with though is who decides what is art? It bothers me that someone with a big name could paint a line on a page and put it in a museum, and that is fine, I can come to see how it could be art. The problem is what if I drew a line on a piece of paper? Would they put it in a museum? No. I'm sure i'll come to terms with this eventually.

We went to the British Museum yesterday. The highlights were the Rosetta Stone and a private viewing of sketches from a ton of famous artists. Incredible, like early sketches of Adam in the Sistine Chapel, and Van Gogh and Rembrandt and other people . What amazed me the most about them is the time and patience they would take, and how different a sketch looks from 4 inches away vs. 4 feet away. When you get up close you realize they really are just a bunch of lines. It is so cool.

I am trying to tame the shopping impulse, I am trying to just take it one item at a time and so far I think I am doing alright (considering there have been some essentials that I just have to get, and that list isn't quite finished. I'm still holding out for the right slippers).

The girls here are great. I feel lucky to be here the same time as them! We even celebrated Arianna's 21st birthday! It was a party. Life is good.

London Town

Getting to London is no fun. Being in London is fabulous.

Here is the story of my journey to London. I will try to just tell it as factually as possible without letting my feelings of bitter resentment get in the way.

I am packing in a rush to leave for the airport, when we realize my suitcase is completely falling apart, so I spend the ride to the airport in the back seat switching all my stuff to a different suitcase. I got rather car sick in the process.

We get to the airport in record time. One of my bags is only 36 lbs (leaving plenty of room to shop, of course). I grab a cinnabon, then sit at the gate. We are supposed to be boarding, but instead we get the announcement that the captain is missing. "We are pretty sure he is in the airport. He may be in the air, but we think he is in the airport." Ok, no big deal, it is 3:15 and my flight in detroit is not until 6:55.

The captain shows up and we board the plane. Then, we deboard. Mechanical difficulties of some sort. Luckily, there is an identical plane just one gate over. So, we board that plane. This process took about an hour, I don't know why. As it turned out, the plane was identical to the former in all aspects, including the mechanical difficulties. The minutes tick by, while every 5 minutes the crew is telling us they will let us know what is happening in about 5 minutes. At this point, everybody was on the phone about their missed connections. It is now about 5:45. I am on the phone with my dear friend, Arianna, who had bought me McDonalds and was asking the lady at the gate what the chances were of me making the flight. The woman told her there were several people on my flight who were trying to catch the flight to London so they could wait until 7, which was when my flight was supposed to get in.

My mother is on the phone, first telling me to get off the flight because she didn't think I was going to make it. Then, she says it doesn't look like there is another flight to London for the next 2 days, from Cincinnati or Detroit. So my only hope is staying on the plane and trying to catch the flight.

I did nothing but pray and wrinkle my empty cup up in my hands over and over again during the flight. We don't arrive in Detroit until 7:20. Arianna doesn't pick up her phone, the flight had already taken off. It turns out, it left at 6:48.

I have never missed a flight before in my life (despite a few recent close calls). So, I follow everyone else and get in line at the service desk to find a new connection. I talk to the first person, who says my best option is staying in a hotel in Detroit that night and catching a flight to Amsterdam the next night, then London after that. I then talk to someone on the help phones who says the same thing.

My parents are making calls and getting no further than I am

. The line dies down, so I get back in line to talk to a different person to see if I can fly home to Cincinnati that night instead. That seemed better than 24 hours in a Detroit hotel room. I continued to have a very incoherent conversation with the woman, who gave me the flight to Cincinnati, but wouldn't tell me if I could get back to Detroit for the flight to Amsterdam, and told me I had to talk to people on the phones. I told my mom what she had said, and she told me to stay on the phone go talk to her again. So, I approach the desk, and here is the gist of the conversation ( I believe her name was Deborah Anne):

DA- "What?"

Me-"Hi, if I go back to Cincinnati, what are my options of getting to London from there?"

DA-"Well is there a direct flight from Cincinnati to London?"

Me-"I'm not sure, if there is I think it is full."

DA- looking stuff up... "Oh, there is a flight that leaves Cincinnati tomorrow night and gets into London the next morning, connecting in Boston."

Me-"That sounds great!"

DA- says nothing, is doing stuff on her computer...

My mother on the phone-"So are you on the flight?"

Me-"I'm not sure, I think so"

DA-"Oh, I booked you on the flight. When I said it was an option, I booked you."

Me-"Oh, great, thank you."

DA-"Why didn't you just book that flight in the first place?"

Me-"Because I was trying to get there by tomorrow morning."

DA-"You just can't do that with these European flights."

Me- In state of confusion.

a few minutes later...

DA-"You are in London for a month?"

Me-"Three months"

DA-"What are you going to do without your mommy there to solve all your problems?"

Me- Jaw dropped and speechless.

At this point I don't even remember the rest of the conversation. All I could think about was staying polite, and escaping this woman as fast as possibly with my tickets.

The plane back to Cincinnati was delayed, because, as the captain explained, they had been delayed all day...

I get home, and leave the next day for Boston. I make it to London without a hitch that time. When I talk to the guy in the customs line, he asks me the basic questions, then asks me how much money I have with me. Then he asks me how much I have for the 3 months I am there. I tell him about what is in my checking account, and he sneers and says,"Do you know how expensive this country is?" I assure him that I will be ok, I have already paid for my lodging and food. He then asks, "Who supports you?" "My parents." He sneers again and mumbles, "Figures." "I worked over the summer and made money." He doesn't respond and hands me back my passport. A lady on my flight walks away next to me and says, "Wow, it sounded like you got the third degree!"

I know.

I talk to a friendly irish lady I sat near on the plane while I wait for my bags that I know won't be there. Then I report it to the delta desk, and they inform me my bags are on a flight to Amsterdam at the moment and will be getting in around 2 that afternoon. They will deliver them later that day.

Great, at least this way I don't have to haul them to the centre.

I make it to the centre in a daze at this point. It is wednesday afternoon. I don't see my bags until late thursday night. At least I filled out a form that gave me a voucher for my checked baggage fee, so I won't have to pay that on my way home.

Now I have my bags, and am living in London. Life is good. The girls here are great, the directors are so nice, and this city is fabulous. Our assignments are things like, go to a park and watch something there for half an hour. Write about it and sketch it. You have the rest of the day to explore the city. Ok, I can do that.

My only complaint at the moment would be the food in the center. The cook is a very nice woman who likes to experiment. This was dinner tonight...

It is a good thing we can have gelato and chocolate croissants basically anywhere else we go :)

Life Lesson:

I have seen the whole experience as a good life experience, and I learned that while being nice and polite to people won't necessarily get you what you want, but it will make you feel better about the way you acted. Also, the lady did get nicer by the end of our conversation. I can only image what could have happened if I had snapped back at her. For some reason, I found my self wanting to be even nicer to all the people I came in contact with at the airport afterwards. That is still a phenomenon I do not understand.

I am sure my next post will have a much better ratio between the positive and negative vibes. I am sorry for this one.

Oh Boys

What my little brother and his 15-year-old friends left as a tip for their waitress at California Pizza Kitchen... Watch out ladies, they are smooth....

Yes, the note does say "Your beutiful" with a heart.

They may not be the best spellers or grammatically correct, but they are charming.