With 2010 coming to end and my journey to the UK now 5 (I think I'm so confused with the days anymore) days passed. It is time to me to write my final blog post...well final at least for this adventure.
Christmas will not be complete without looking back at a Rosalind Franklin Christmas that took place way back on December 12th. There was a sparkle in the air, the birds were chirping...ok that's all absolute and utter bull shit. I awoke from a crazy and fun night the night before, details of which are unnecessary to telling this story, to the great smell of our chickens Henrietta and Clucky in the over. For those of you that are wondering Clucky was the retarded chicken that sadly was put down because she was unable to lay eggs, she also wasn't as beautiful as her older sister Henrietta, so Laura tells me... Anyways, I began my morning by helping make snowflakes to decorate our window. I can't make a snow flake to save my life obviously because while everyone else had these really cool geometric details, mine was just a circle with a square and a few triangles in it. And naturally, everyone who walked into the kitchen was like "Look at all the snowflakes, except for the one in the top hand corner, who made that one!?" Way to embarrass me...
Next we started busting the bottles of Cava open (12 in all) and we went through every single one in a matter of hours. This led to numerous drunk dancing numbers including the Mocarena, the Cha Cha Slide, and some other dances I don't quite remember. And of course we danced on the chairs as usual. Then everyone on the floor came together for a nice meal of roast chicken, sausages wrapped in bacon, carrots, roast potatoes, parsnips, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cranberry sauce, stuffing, homemade gravy, mince pies, and cake. All washed down with, yes you guessed it Cava! Then afterwards we had our secret Santa's revealed and gifts distributed. I am still touched by my gift of the yard long box of Jaffa Cakes and the picture of all my flatmates (well the ones I love at least) in the London picture frame. Thanks Becca! Especially love how Zoe was put into the picture! All in all it was a wonderful day and it felt just like Christmas, and as an even added bonus Matt won X Factor. Oh I forgot there was one casualty, Will's mattress which wound up on the room a la The Hangover...
So now lets fast forward to this Christmas! Upon opening her gift of tea from Harrods my grandmother goes crazy and is like "OHHHHHHH Ryan this is from the place Princess Diana's boyfriend's father, that Dodi owns!" Yes we are that obsessed by Harrod's that we know it solely as the place Princess Diana's boyfriend's father, that Dodi owns. Yes yes I do know it is now owned by some Qataris since Dodi's father sold it last year. My mom and grandfather were satisfied with their sweatshirts. My Dad freaked me out because he was unsure if my brother was going to like his Adidas Olympic Shirt because the logo was shiny and then he told me that silly bands are apparently out of style. Thankfully he liked both of them. Real shame about the silly bands though, they haven't even caught on in the US. I am starting a cult Jaffa Cakes following here and within the year we will be a forced to be reckoned with. People across the US will be demanding stores supply Jaffa Cakes. As far as Christmas Pudding...its good, but its not like...great.... no offense...
And now I may get a bit emotional (if its possible to do so via electronic typing). I would like to thank everyone across the pond for giving me some of the craziest, and quite possibly greatest, three months of my life. Sure there were some low points along the way, but hey that is a part of life and that happens. Looking back on it, I wouldn't have had it any other way. Each person that I met while studying abroad has touched me in some way from the people I love to the people who annoy the hell out of me. I know I'm starting to ramble, but I just wanna say that I love each and every single one of you and I can't wait to come back (there will be a reunion believe me, I have an incurable addiction to traveling) and get "shagged" abroad again!
Monday, December 27, 2010
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Stranded Part 2: So You Like Jaffa Cakes?
After 5 days I believe there has been enough time for me to recount the horrors that was being stranded in London thanks to Richard Branson and BAA's inability to remove snow, so here it goes...
Morning Dec 21: I wake up at 9:15AM to hear the cleaner speaking jive as usual, get on skype to call Virgin Atlantic again.
9:45 AM: Waiting for 20 minutes now, realize I am hungry and open a container of fig rolls, as soon as I start chewing I am naturally put on the phone with an associate.
10:00AM: Get put on a flight on December 26th from Heathrow to JFK, won't be home for Christmas, but at least know when I am going home so I can plan accordingly. According to the man I spoke with that was the earliest flight I could get to anywhere in the East Coast.
10:15AM: Call Dad, tell him my situation. He makes me realize that the fuckers at Virgin just walked all over me. How can the ONLY flight to the US be no sooner than December 26. I realize he has a point and decide to call back after a shower.
11:15AM: Take a shower and then once again call Virgin. This time I get through in 20 minutes and am greeted by the biggest jerk ever. I tell him that I realize that clearly Virgin just played me into thinking that I would be ok getting on a flight no sooner than December 26th. He tells me that its all the governments fault (like I haven't heard that excuse before) and actually starts yelling at me. I demand that look into other flights on Delta, America, US Airways, and British Airways.
11:47-12:00PM: To protect the names of the innocent "Joe" claims that he has me on hold saying he is looking into other flights. He probably was making note on my file that I am the biggest pain in the ass ever. Comes back on the line to say nothing is available, although he could put me on a flight on December 27th to Orlando. I go CRAZY, telling him to not DARE take me off my flight on December 26th, and then go on this staged emotional rant where I said, and I quote, "You know what this is nothing personal but lets be honest, you don't even know me nor do you care what will happen to me after I hang up this phone. You will forget all about me, yet I will still be here sitting all alone in this room. ALL ALONE. Listen, I have no one, absolutely NO ONE. All my friends are home and my family is thousands of miles away. I am living out of my suitcases, but what do you care? You are just going to go home to your family tonight and have a nice Christmas."
12:05PM: Clearly flattery doesn't work. He tells me he can't do anything and to have a nice day. Decide to drown my sorrows in yet another Tesco 2 pound Meal Deal of a chicken and bacon wrap, prawn cocktail chips, and orange juice. At the register the same moron Apu (no I am not stereotyping that was his name) who told me 12 hours earlier to use the self checkout, told me to do it again. Once again I said "I can't my debit card is a swipe card". And once again he said it will work and once AGAIN I was right and he was wrong but of course I looked like the idiot who could not use a debit card...
12:30PM: Screw this, I'm not waiting another hour to call Virgin back. I try once again and now reach a third man talks to me and this time he claims there is a flight to Orlando on Dec 22nd (tomorrow) from Gatwick at 1pm and then I can take a American Airlines flight from Orlando to JFK. I take it, finally my nightmare is over...so I thought...
After this I start partying it up because in all honesty, my 3 month period of being "21" is about to end in about 24 hours, go out to dinner and drinks with my only remaining friend in London and some of his friends.
11:30PM: This starts the drunken quest to get from London Bridge back to Hampstead then back to Clapham Common before the last tube is running. Thankfully we make it and are back by 1am. While checking out I ask reception for the mail one last time, apparently they had been forgetting to give me a card from my grandmother for a month now...
Day 3
I'll save you the minor details of riding the Gatwick Express but anyways I get to the ticket counter and see my flight is delayed until 2:15 from 1pm...this is where all the fun starts.
me to throw food in my carry on into the suitcase since it weighs less. I am trying to tell her though that there is no physical space left in the suitcase. She then wants to see the contents in my suitcase, at which she says "So what do you like Jaffa Cakes or something? Take them out!" BITCH made me put my jaffa cakes in my suitcase. Fast forward 24 hours later and yes they were squished, I am still morning the loss of them. But now back to Jane... she is now making me take clothing and such out of the bag that is overweight. I take out my film studies books and they were the culprits. So now I am under the maximum but am still going to be charged an overweight fee. She "lets me go" since I am .5kg over on my carry on. I leave but before I go I tell her to learn how to smile. (It was a polite way of telling her F**K YOU! To piss her off I then took off my scarf and sweater in front of her and stuffed it into the bag...
She is getting mentioned in my letter to Richard Branson...
Following so far? At this point it may be best to take a break, grab a cup of coffee or something because this story is only about halfway over...
12:45 PM: My gate number is supposed to appear
1:00PM: Gate number appears, takes about 20 minutes to walk to that gate. Upon arrival at the gate we are all sitting there waiting and the lovely people at Virgin tell us that there are not enough flight attendants to man the plane. After they find ones to work the flight AND clear security we will be able to board. While this is all going on I realize there is no Wi Fi in the terminal so I have to call my family on my phone to tell them I am delayed, by this point I am thinking I may miss my connecting flight. Then the stewardess comes on and says we won't leave until 4pm London time which means we will get in at 8:30PM Orlando time, I am missing my 7:35 connecting flight...
!:00-4:00 PM: While sitting around I realize that I am just about the only American on my flight and that practically everyone on this flight is indeed a British family with what seems 10 kids each. At one point there was a kid sniffing his shoe. Then making a face to the effect that "oh god that smells"..only to sniff it again. Dumb kid...Then closer to 4pm the terminal started turning into a playground for all the kids. PSA to all parents out there: An airport terminal is NOT your kid's play pen!
4:00PM- 1:30AM London time: Flight finally leaves! On the flight I had the honor of sitting next to this mother and her son. They were separated from their other family members and through out the whole flight she was worried about her poor son Charlie who was "sick" (sick as in the British sense of the word meaning puked). The son for EVERYTHING that something did to him said : "CHEERRRRSSSSS". It was quite comical after awhile. If he asked to get up he said "CHEERRRRSSSSSS". Sat down, "CHEERRRSSSSS". Flight attendant gave him food "CHEERRRSSSSS". Getting the picture? Then at the beginning of the flight I forgot to include the part where the mother said to me "so you going to talk or be silent the whole trip?" She was a lovely woman so we got along fine. Then mid-flight the baby puked across from me. Thank god for the TV, it allowed me to watch Despicable Me and the end of "Going the Distance", which I must say was the worst ending ever!
1:30AM London/ 8:30AM Orlando: I put my hands up and I was nodding my head like yeaaaa because I was back in the USA! Customs was a breeze (almost too much of a breeze, but than again I was the only American on the flight!) Got my bags and then had to go to the ticket counter. There was no more flights for the night so they put me on an American Airlines flight at 8:25 AM the next morning and got me a room in the Hyatt for the night, plus a $15 meal voucher. My grandparents were on standby to come get me from Tampa but in the end they didn't have to. I didn't mind being stuck in the hotel though, despite the endless walk with all 4 of my bags because I discovered I was in a king sized suite! Hell I could have spend Christmas there and I would be fine!
Day 4
8:25 AM-10:55AM: Flight to JFK, this part is uneventful but at one point some guy was like "Hey Brother, can I sit near the window?" It was fine since no one was sitting there, but don't call me brother...ever...
10:55AM: FINALLY AT JFK, my travelling nightmare was finally over!
Morning Dec 21: I wake up at 9:15AM to hear the cleaner speaking jive as usual, get on skype to call Virgin Atlantic again.
9:45 AM: Waiting for 20 minutes now, realize I am hungry and open a container of fig rolls, as soon as I start chewing I am naturally put on the phone with an associate.
10:00AM: Get put on a flight on December 26th from Heathrow to JFK, won't be home for Christmas, but at least know when I am going home so I can plan accordingly. According to the man I spoke with that was the earliest flight I could get to anywhere in the East Coast.
10:15AM: Call Dad, tell him my situation. He makes me realize that the fuckers at Virgin just walked all over me. How can the ONLY flight to the US be no sooner than December 26. I realize he has a point and decide to call back after a shower.
11:15AM: Take a shower and then once again call Virgin. This time I get through in 20 minutes and am greeted by the biggest jerk ever. I tell him that I realize that clearly Virgin just played me into thinking that I would be ok getting on a flight no sooner than December 26th. He tells me that its all the governments fault (like I haven't heard that excuse before) and actually starts yelling at me. I demand that look into other flights on Delta, America, US Airways, and British Airways.
11:47-12:00PM: To protect the names of the innocent "Joe" claims that he has me on hold saying he is looking into other flights. He probably was making note on my file that I am the biggest pain in the ass ever. Comes back on the line to say nothing is available, although he could put me on a flight on December 27th to Orlando. I go CRAZY, telling him to not DARE take me off my flight on December 26th, and then go on this staged emotional rant where I said, and I quote, "You know what this is nothing personal but lets be honest, you don't even know me nor do you care what will happen to me after I hang up this phone. You will forget all about me, yet I will still be here sitting all alone in this room. ALL ALONE. Listen, I have no one, absolutely NO ONE. All my friends are home and my family is thousands of miles away. I am living out of my suitcases, but what do you care? You are just going to go home to your family tonight and have a nice Christmas."
12:05PM: Clearly flattery doesn't work. He tells me he can't do anything and to have a nice day. Decide to drown my sorrows in yet another Tesco 2 pound Meal Deal of a chicken and bacon wrap, prawn cocktail chips, and orange juice. At the register the same moron Apu (no I am not stereotyping that was his name) who told me 12 hours earlier to use the self checkout, told me to do it again. Once again I said "I can't my debit card is a swipe card". And once again he said it will work and once AGAIN I was right and he was wrong but of course I looked like the idiot who could not use a debit card...
12:30PM: Screw this, I'm not waiting another hour to call Virgin back. I try once again and now reach a third man talks to me and this time he claims there is a flight to Orlando on Dec 22nd (tomorrow) from Gatwick at 1pm and then I can take a American Airlines flight from Orlando to JFK. I take it, finally my nightmare is over...so I thought...
After this I start partying it up because in all honesty, my 3 month period of being "21" is about to end in about 24 hours, go out to dinner and drinks with my only remaining friend in London and some of his friends.
11:30PM: This starts the drunken quest to get from London Bridge back to Hampstead then back to Clapham Common before the last tube is running. Thankfully we make it and are back by 1am. While checking out I ask reception for the mail one last time, apparently they had been forgetting to give me a card from my grandmother for a month now...
Day 3
I'll save you the minor details of riding the Gatwick Express but anyways I get to the ticket counter and see my flight is delayed until 2:15 from 1pm...this is where all the fun starts.
me to throw food in my carry on into the suitcase since it weighs less. I am trying to tell her though that there is no physical space left in the suitcase. She then wants to see the contents in my suitcase, at which she says "So what do you like Jaffa Cakes or something? Take them out!" BITCH made me put my jaffa cakes in my suitcase. Fast forward 24 hours later and yes they were squished, I am still morning the loss of them. But now back to Jane... she is now making me take clothing and such out of the bag that is overweight. I take out my film studies books and they were the culprits. So now I am under the maximum but am still going to be charged an overweight fee. She "lets me go" since I am .5kg over on my carry on. I leave but before I go I tell her to learn how to smile. (It was a polite way of telling her F**K YOU! To piss her off I then took off my scarf and sweater in front of her and stuffed it into the bag...
She is getting mentioned in my letter to Richard Branson...
Following so far? At this point it may be best to take a break, grab a cup of coffee or something because this story is only about halfway over...
12:45 PM: My gate number is supposed to appear
1:00PM: Gate number appears, takes about 20 minutes to walk to that gate. Upon arrival at the gate we are all sitting there waiting and the lovely people at Virgin tell us that there are not enough flight attendants to man the plane. After they find ones to work the flight AND clear security we will be able to board. While this is all going on I realize there is no Wi Fi in the terminal so I have to call my family on my phone to tell them I am delayed, by this point I am thinking I may miss my connecting flight. Then the stewardess comes on and says we won't leave until 4pm London time which means we will get in at 8:30PM Orlando time, I am missing my 7:35 connecting flight...
!:00-4:00 PM: While sitting around I realize that I am just about the only American on my flight and that practically everyone on this flight is indeed a British family with what seems 10 kids each. At one point there was a kid sniffing his shoe. Then making a face to the effect that "oh god that smells"..only to sniff it again. Dumb kid...Then closer to 4pm the terminal started turning into a playground for all the kids. PSA to all parents out there: An airport terminal is NOT your kid's play pen!
4:00PM- 1:30AM London time: Flight finally leaves! On the flight I had the honor of sitting next to this mother and her son. They were separated from their other family members and through out the whole flight she was worried about her poor son Charlie who was "sick" (sick as in the British sense of the word meaning puked). The son for EVERYTHING that something did to him said : "CHEERRRRSSSSS". It was quite comical after awhile. If he asked to get up he said "CHEERRRRSSSSSS". Sat down, "CHEERRRSSSSS". Flight attendant gave him food "CHEERRRSSSSS". Getting the picture? Then at the beginning of the flight I forgot to include the part where the mother said to me "so you going to talk or be silent the whole trip?" She was a lovely woman so we got along fine. Then mid-flight the baby puked across from me. Thank god for the TV, it allowed me to watch Despicable Me and the end of "Going the Distance", which I must say was the worst ending ever!
1:30AM London/ 8:30AM Orlando: I put my hands up and I was nodding my head like yeaaaa because I was back in the USA! Customs was a breeze (almost too much of a breeze, but than again I was the only American on the flight!) Got my bags and then had to go to the ticket counter. There was no more flights for the night so they put me on an American Airlines flight at 8:25 AM the next morning and got me a room in the Hyatt for the night, plus a $15 meal voucher. My grandparents were on standby to come get me from Tampa but in the end they didn't have to. I didn't mind being stuck in the hotel though, despite the endless walk with all 4 of my bags because I discovered I was in a king sized suite! Hell I could have spend Christmas there and I would be fine!
Day 4
8:25 AM-10:55AM: Flight to JFK, this part is uneventful but at one point some guy was like "Hey Brother, can I sit near the window?" It was fine since no one was sitting there, but don't call me brother...ever...
10:55AM: FINALLY AT JFK, my travelling nightmare was finally over!
Monday, December 20, 2010
Stranded Abroad
The British Empire once controlled a quarter of the worlds population. That is a whopping 25%, 1 in 4 people were under the crown...and you know what, THEY CAN'T HANDLE 5 INCHES OF SNOW!!!!!!!!!! I thought the US response to Katrina was bad, but hey at least no one really saw that one coming. 5 INCHES....5 INCHES (ok depending on where you live 8) yet still, that wouldn't even be on the "everyone have a french toast party" on Joe Snedeker's Panic Meter during WNEP's morning weather forcast...
This is the ultimate shag... Shagged Abroad has now become, Stranded Abroad...
Day 1/2: Awoke at 7am on December 19th, moving my hips like yeaaaa in anticipation to my triumphant return to the US, only to be told my flight was cancelled. By approximately 9:30AM I had filled out Virgin's online form for requesting a re booking. Received a follow up email saying that I would be notified within 12 hours, well it is currently 11:20 PM on December 20th...like yea...
Panic for quite a bit, then started receiving text messages from Virgin saying don't even come to Heathrow because they are kicking everyone out of the airport. Heathrow received a whopping 5-8 inches of snow, plus they are out of rock salt. I didn't know there was a crisis in the UK over a shortage of Quick Joe.
10:30 AM Dec 19th: Cheer myself with a 2 pound meal deal. Through thick and thin, the 2 pound meal deal is there for me. Decided to go healthy, had a chicken Caesar, salt and vinegar chips, and some OJ
1:00-3:00PM Dec 19th: I hope while you read each entry you have the 24 clock ticking in your head with Kiefer's voice over...decide to nap to take away the pain. No response from Virgin via email or phone. Phone dies. Missed Dad's phone call
4:00PM Dec 19th: Wake up from nap to the chaos of the Boyko's freaking out because they couldn't reach me via phone. Listen to voicemail, apparently I didn't set one up for the past 3 months, needed to do so but couldn't. Phone wasn't recognizing the * key. My Dad's message remains a mystery....
5:00PM -10:00PM Dec 19th: My friend Chris makes me feel better by putting on Fox News, and then Al Jazerra English, which is quite good actually. Then I become addicted to British TV...watch "Come Dine With Me"...now addicted, mad that the picky chick won despite the fact her own food was good...Di so should have won...Thankfully for Sky On Demand, was able to pause before while running to Tesco of a beef and red wine ravioli with a side of veggies and passion fruit yogurt for dessert.
10:30PM (?ish) Dec 19th: Introduced to "Miranda", so dumb of a show it is actually great. LOVE the scene where she is trying to wax her va jay jay in the tub and gets stuck to the bottom of the tub.
11:00PM Dec 19th- Go to bed to take away the pain, still no email response from Virgin, Thanks gorgeous!!!
7:30AM Dec 20th- Wake up to see if any news on the Virgin Atlantic front, nothing...and to make matters worse all flights today are cancelled as well since they were unable to deice the planes and the runway. IT IS CALLED ROCK SALT, maybe it isn't common on the island of GREAT BRITAIN but you know what in America its a staple and it gets us through all our snow storms, from dustings to blizzards just fine.
9:00AM Dec 20th- Heathrow releases a statement saying we need to "reflect on our actions"...See my above argument, reflect??? No pour more rock salt...
11:00AM Dec 20th- It is 2 pound meal deal time again, this time chicken and bacon wrap with cheese and onion chips and more OJ, so bad for you but soooo good
11:15AM Dec 20th- See Cleaner. She is PISSED because she thinks I am the one who left all the plastic bags of recycling in the kitchen. She can't yell at me in English though, only Jive...
12:00AM Dec 20th- Now over 24 hours since I initially emailed Virgin still no response. Decide to "reflect" and take a hajj to Lancaster Gate and see Aunt Victoria's old flat. Beautiful place, but finding High Marylbone Road was too difficult, plus I was tired and cold. Stop for a smoked salmon bagel with creme cheese and some Earl Grey
2:00PM Dec 20th- Mouse on my laptop has not been working for the past few days, tired of using the tab key. Some loser is in the PAWS room, soon as he leaves I "borrow" one of the mouses.
3:00PM Dec 20th- With a mouse in my possession continue calling Virgin, while waiting for that email, thank god I don't have my hand on my ass waiting for it.
7:00PM Dec 20th- Venture out for food, make another trip to Tesco, Sainsbury's too far and too cold. Sidewalks still not shoveled but the roads are just wet, no snow cover. Tonight's meal? Microwaveable Tesco's finest Paella and some vanilla yogurt for dessert.
10:00PM Dec 20th- Re-email Virgin with my info, write on their Facebook wall, AND call them via skype while chatting with STA as well. No response from either, after 40minutes I get cut off by Virgin. Call bastards back, playing the same 5 songs while on hold. Tired of listening to "Carwash" and the Jackson 5...not my type of music really
11:40PM Dec 20th: In an IM from my dad: [from your mother] just get our son home safe. [dad] what am i fuckin chuck norris?
More to follow as the night unfolds, keep tuning in for updates...
This is the ultimate shag... Shagged Abroad has now become, Stranded Abroad...
Day 1/2: Awoke at 7am on December 19th, moving my hips like yeaaaa in anticipation to my triumphant return to the US, only to be told my flight was cancelled. By approximately 9:30AM I had filled out Virgin's online form for requesting a re booking. Received a follow up email saying that I would be notified within 12 hours, well it is currently 11:20 PM on December 20th...like yea...
Panic for quite a bit, then started receiving text messages from Virgin saying don't even come to Heathrow because they are kicking everyone out of the airport. Heathrow received a whopping 5-8 inches of snow, plus they are out of rock salt. I didn't know there was a crisis in the UK over a shortage of Quick Joe.
10:30 AM Dec 19th: Cheer myself with a 2 pound meal deal. Through thick and thin, the 2 pound meal deal is there for me. Decided to go healthy, had a chicken Caesar, salt and vinegar chips, and some OJ
1:00-3:00PM Dec 19th: I hope while you read each entry you have the 24 clock ticking in your head with Kiefer's voice over...decide to nap to take away the pain. No response from Virgin via email or phone. Phone dies. Missed Dad's phone call
4:00PM Dec 19th: Wake up from nap to the chaos of the Boyko's freaking out because they couldn't reach me via phone. Listen to voicemail, apparently I didn't set one up for the past 3 months, needed to do so but couldn't. Phone wasn't recognizing the * key. My Dad's message remains a mystery....
5:00PM -10:00PM Dec 19th: My friend Chris makes me feel better by putting on Fox News, and then Al Jazerra English, which is quite good actually. Then I become addicted to British TV...watch "Come Dine With Me"...now addicted, mad that the picky chick won despite the fact her own food was good...Di so should have won...Thankfully for Sky On Demand, was able to pause before while running to Tesco of a beef and red wine ravioli with a side of veggies and passion fruit yogurt for dessert.
10:30PM (?ish) Dec 19th: Introduced to "Miranda", so dumb of a show it is actually great. LOVE the scene where she is trying to wax her va jay jay in the tub and gets stuck to the bottom of the tub.
11:00PM Dec 19th- Go to bed to take away the pain, still no email response from Virgin, Thanks gorgeous!!!
7:30AM Dec 20th- Wake up to see if any news on the Virgin Atlantic front, nothing...and to make matters worse all flights today are cancelled as well since they were unable to deice the planes and the runway. IT IS CALLED ROCK SALT, maybe it isn't common on the island of GREAT BRITAIN but you know what in America its a staple and it gets us through all our snow storms, from dustings to blizzards just fine.
9:00AM Dec 20th- Heathrow releases a statement saying we need to "reflect on our actions"...See my above argument, reflect??? No pour more rock salt...
11:00AM Dec 20th- It is 2 pound meal deal time again, this time chicken and bacon wrap with cheese and onion chips and more OJ, so bad for you but soooo good
11:15AM Dec 20th- See Cleaner. She is PISSED because she thinks I am the one who left all the plastic bags of recycling in the kitchen. She can't yell at me in English though, only Jive...
12:00AM Dec 20th- Now over 24 hours since I initially emailed Virgin still no response. Decide to "reflect" and take a hajj to Lancaster Gate and see Aunt Victoria's old flat. Beautiful place, but finding High Marylbone Road was too difficult, plus I was tired and cold. Stop for a smoked salmon bagel with creme cheese and some Earl Grey
2:00PM Dec 20th- Mouse on my laptop has not been working for the past few days, tired of using the tab key. Some loser is in the PAWS room, soon as he leaves I "borrow" one of the mouses.
3:00PM Dec 20th- With a mouse in my possession continue calling Virgin, while waiting for that email, thank god I don't have my hand on my ass waiting for it.
7:00PM Dec 20th- Venture out for food, make another trip to Tesco, Sainsbury's too far and too cold. Sidewalks still not shoveled but the roads are just wet, no snow cover. Tonight's meal? Microwaveable Tesco's finest Paella and some vanilla yogurt for dessert.
10:00PM Dec 20th- Re-email Virgin with my info, write on their Facebook wall, AND call them via skype while chatting with STA as well. No response from either, after 40minutes I get cut off by Virgin. Call bastards back, playing the same 5 songs while on hold. Tired of listening to "Carwash" and the Jackson 5...not my type of music really
11:40PM Dec 20th: In an IM from my dad: [from your mother] just get our son home safe. [dad] what am i fuckin chuck norris?
More to follow as the night unfolds, keep tuning in for updates...
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Homeless
It was another typical Thursday morning. I have the day off but I am always awakened to the beautiful voice of the cleaner, Maria, speaking jive with one of her chikas on her cell phone in the hallway. That is actually putting it lightly since the woman practically screams into the phone. Her friend must be deaf and if she wasn't before she is now.
Now the cleaner always comes into my room on Thursday and it usually depends on how slow she is doing her job. I heard her in the hallway and totally forgot it was my day to get my room cleaned so I went to take a shower. The water wasn't the hottest this morning so I was definitely in there ten minutes top. I stroll back down after my shower go to open my door and it won't open...wiggle the handle again...nothing. So now I drop my wet towel and shampoo and go running down the hall to see if the cleaner is in any of the kitchens or the bathrooms. She is nowhere to be found. Somehow this woman was able to clean my room, finish the other rooms and leave in a span of me taking a shower in ten minutes. Thank god at least I had a pair of shorts and a t shirt with me because now I'm thinking SHIT I have to walk all the way to reception in the cold in my Inca Kola t shirt and black gym shorts, with no shoes. Luckily Zoe came out of her room. Apparently there is a phone in our kitchen that has a direct line to security!? Three months here and I failed to notice we have an emergency phone.
Cut to me standing at my door waiting for security. An ambulance almost came also because I gave Sheenagh the biggest heart attack as she walked outside her door. Once her heart stopped racing she left and then comes the security guards. Of all the guards it just had to be the Polish guy who I swear is Vladimir Putin's long lost son. He's pretty jacked ala Putin and shows absolutely no sympathy or emotion. He opens my door and then says, "This is gonna sound stupid, but you should keep your key on you at all times." I felt like saying, "She shouldn't have locked my door, I was gone for ten minutes tops!", but I was afraid he'd go KGB on my ass so I kept my mouth shut. Then I get back into my room. She didn't even vacuum my floor or clean my sink. She just took the garbage out and she used the same bag because the wrapper from my Tesco sandwich the other night was still in there. Obviously she isn't the smartest at covering up her trail because she left a whole lot of evidence. Mrs. Cleaner if you are out there somewhere reading this, I only have one more week with you (holy shit it's only one more week), please clean my floor and sink one last time. It would make me so happy.
I'm gonna start a new segment, the daily Boyko, since apparently the Boyko's have their own cult following with the readers: Apparently my 85 year old grandfather Wasil discovered youtube, and now as a result he is playing polkas all day at Viktoria Richards Chocolates! Oh joy! In his honor here is "Who stole the Kishka?" Look at the highest rated comment under the video!
Now the cleaner always comes into my room on Thursday and it usually depends on how slow she is doing her job. I heard her in the hallway and totally forgot it was my day to get my room cleaned so I went to take a shower. The water wasn't the hottest this morning so I was definitely in there ten minutes top. I stroll back down after my shower go to open my door and it won't open...wiggle the handle again...nothing. So now I drop my wet towel and shampoo and go running down the hall to see if the cleaner is in any of the kitchens or the bathrooms. She is nowhere to be found. Somehow this woman was able to clean my room, finish the other rooms and leave in a span of me taking a shower in ten minutes. Thank god at least I had a pair of shorts and a t shirt with me because now I'm thinking SHIT I have to walk all the way to reception in the cold in my Inca Kola t shirt and black gym shorts, with no shoes. Luckily Zoe came out of her room. Apparently there is a phone in our kitchen that has a direct line to security!? Three months here and I failed to notice we have an emergency phone.
Cut to me standing at my door waiting for security. An ambulance almost came also because I gave Sheenagh the biggest heart attack as she walked outside her door. Once her heart stopped racing she left and then comes the security guards. Of all the guards it just had to be the Polish guy who I swear is Vladimir Putin's long lost son. He's pretty jacked ala Putin and shows absolutely no sympathy or emotion. He opens my door and then says, "This is gonna sound stupid, but you should keep your key on you at all times." I felt like saying, "She shouldn't have locked my door, I was gone for ten minutes tops!", but I was afraid he'd go KGB on my ass so I kept my mouth shut. Then I get back into my room. She didn't even vacuum my floor or clean my sink. She just took the garbage out and she used the same bag because the wrapper from my Tesco sandwich the other night was still in there. Obviously she isn't the smartest at covering up her trail because she left a whole lot of evidence. Mrs. Cleaner if you are out there somewhere reading this, I only have one more week with you (holy shit it's only one more week), please clean my floor and sink one last time. It would make me so happy.
I'm gonna start a new segment, the daily Boyko, since apparently the Boyko's have their own cult following with the readers: Apparently my 85 year old grandfather Wasil discovered youtube, and now as a result he is playing polkas all day at Viktoria Richards Chocolates! Oh joy! In his honor here is "Who stole the Kishka?" Look at the highest rated comment under the video!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Free From Snape
So my fan base has been pleading for a blog update. I had my final Greek pottery class and let me tell you it went out with a bang (literally). Snape must have been saving all the juicy stuff for the last class because we finally got to 400 BC and this is when all the he said, she said, artist drama started. I mean this may be the original celebrity feud. So apparently Exekias and Amasis did not like each other at all. Exekias made this beautiful (I say sarcastically...its a friggin cup) cup, which is famously called "The Eye Cup". Well Amasis didn't like the fact that Exekias didn't like him painting on the face of a cup a giant eye. Guess that wasn't the proper thing to do at the time in 400 BC, so as payback Amasis made the SAME cup only. Only difference is instead of an eye Amasis drew Exekias "pleasuring" himself both with his hands and a dildo. Yea, do a google search you will probably find it. Amasis didn't like Exekias so he called him gay. How childish...
Then today while hanging in my Greek Pottery essay (all 5,000 words of it), the other American study abroad student and I are bitching to the secretary about how boring and mundane the class was. Then I look over the corner of my shoulder and what do I see? Through the window, is Snape! I can tell by that same orange sweater he always wears. I kinda got nervous and laughed. Then me being the moron that I am when he walked in I just went "Heyyyyyy!" Who says hey to a Professor, only me...
Oh and this reminds me. On Tuesday I went to do some research for my paper because I needed to have a picture of the pots I described for my pottery paper. Well given my luck, the memory card reader on my camera wasn't working. It's a small card so it doesn't fit regularly in the port anyway so I wasn't taking any chances putting it in a University computer. So I figured no biggie I'll do a google search. I did hundreds of google searches on this damn pot " early geometric oinochoe jug wine jug" NOTHING. Nobody in the world has ever taken a picture of this pot. Guess I'm the only one that has ever found it interesting. Then I looked up the British Museum's database. They don't even have a picture of their own friggin pot. This is when I get annoyed though. I go all the way to Narnia, but you can't take any books out or look them up on the online database because they are currently updating the system...who the hell updates their library system mid-semester towards the end of term!? I swear if GW did that there would be riots in the street and people would be jumping off the roof of Gelman. I never ever thought I'd say I miss Gelman. I also miss GWorld since King's hasn't thought of the novel concept of allowing your student ID to store money. I had to purchase a separate card just to use the photocopiers. Get with the times already... To add insult to injury Snape never responded to my email begging for mercy. When I saw him today he was like, "Oh I thought I replied, I couldn't find the pot either so just show me next week when we go to the BM!" I was speechless.
I also went on an awesome adventure to get my secret Santa gift, but I won't say who because I don't want to give some people (Sheenagh) the satisfaction of knowing who I have!! Oh and tonight at 9pm while talking to my lover Anna, I had a craving for a chicken and bacon wrap from Tesco. I have become British...
Then today while hanging in my Greek Pottery essay (all 5,000 words of it), the other American study abroad student and I are bitching to the secretary about how boring and mundane the class was. Then I look over the corner of my shoulder and what do I see? Through the window, is Snape! I can tell by that same orange sweater he always wears. I kinda got nervous and laughed. Then me being the moron that I am when he walked in I just went "Heyyyyyy!" Who says hey to a Professor, only me...
Oh and this reminds me. On Tuesday I went to do some research for my paper because I needed to have a picture of the pots I described for my pottery paper. Well given my luck, the memory card reader on my camera wasn't working. It's a small card so it doesn't fit regularly in the port anyway so I wasn't taking any chances putting it in a University computer. So I figured no biggie I'll do a google search. I did hundreds of google searches on this damn pot " early geometric oinochoe jug wine jug" NOTHING. Nobody in the world has ever taken a picture of this pot. Guess I'm the only one that has ever found it interesting. Then I looked up the British Museum's database. They don't even have a picture of their own friggin pot. This is when I get annoyed though. I go all the way to Narnia, but you can't take any books out or look them up on the online database because they are currently updating the system...who the hell updates their library system mid-semester towards the end of term!? I swear if GW did that there would be riots in the street and people would be jumping off the roof of Gelman. I never ever thought I'd say I miss Gelman. I also miss GWorld since King's hasn't thought of the novel concept of allowing your student ID to store money. I had to purchase a separate card just to use the photocopiers. Get with the times already... To add insult to injury Snape never responded to my email begging for mercy. When I saw him today he was like, "Oh I thought I replied, I couldn't find the pot either so just show me next week when we go to the BM!" I was speechless.
I also went on an awesome adventure to get my secret Santa gift, but I won't say who because I don't want to give some people (Sheenagh) the satisfaction of knowing who I have!! Oh and tonight at 9pm while talking to my lover Anna, I had a craving for a chicken and bacon wrap from Tesco. I have become British...
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Turkey With British Side Dishes
So I've been way too busy doing work and procrastinating to even blog. I forgot to talk all about my very British Thanksgiving. Well it first started off at St. Paul's (where Diana got married- since Americans don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to British stuff unless it some what correlates to Diana). The Church was massive and I must say its nice to sit through mass without tourists taking photos a la Notre Dame. Although I must say that I did not appreciate the US Ambassador getting political from the pulpit. It wasn't the day nor the place. To make things worse I thought he was reading the President's Thanksgiving address and was done. Then I realized he was done reading his address, and then it was time for Barry's. Dear Jesus. Then the sermon was too long as well. The priest told like five stories none of which I can relate to. I would have preferred the typical Thanksgiving story just being retold or a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving at least. A Hampstead Thanksgiving was an epic fail, but given us I'm not too surprised. That isn't to say a GW Thanksgiving wasn't much more proper. I was all excited for a free Thanksgiving meal. The menu called for turkey, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie etc. And you know what it was? (British friends don't take offense, there is just a time and a place for your cuisine, Thanksgiving just wasn't the time). It was turkey with British FUCKING side dishes, as I slightly tipsily told my family back in Florida later that evening. We had turkey, with Yorkshire puddings (I like those so that's fine; I can have those any day). But then we had roast potatoes, red cabbage, and broccoli!? Oh and when I wanted gravy on my turkey, I got it on all that. Yea....
Dessert? Well no pumpkin pie. Instead we had apple pie with custard or chocolate pie and cream. Now this cream isn't like whipped cream it's the type one would pour into coffee. I'll let you picture that. Must say though the apple pie was delish! I skipped the whole watching football part and then went clubbing instead.
Saturday though I did go to a football game. I froze my balls off. It was Fulham and Birmingham. I was impressed that GW got us such nice seats. We were literally six rows behind the goalie. I felt really proud of myself when I realized Clint Dempsey played for Fulham...the only American soccer player other then Landon Donovan I know. CLint scored, which prompeted me to chant U-S-A. No one joined me...oh well. After a freezing 90 minutes it was a 1-1 tie. I wasn't going to lose sleep over who won so I left.
I would like to the devote the last section of my blog to get political for one moment. America starting in 2011 you will have to make a choice that will affect you for many years to come. One that is bigger then the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the economy, DADT, or immigration reform. It is about television. You see starting in the fall of 2011, Cheryl Cole is going to become the new Paula Abdul on the American version of The X Factor. I'm warning you. It ain't gonna be pretty. This is what you are getting yourself into America! Don't say I warned you.
OH and also...I have my way of finding things out about a lot of things but especially how many views this blog gets, especially when you use google. I see what was searched to locate this blog. Here are two of my favorites from the past week: "Do people really hook up in the Maughan Library", "Funny Red Chair Stories", and "Helen Keller house in Amsterdam"....OK first of all, who googles the first one!? The second one I can see I suppose,and who ever is the moron who also though the Helen Keller house is in Amsterdam...I have found my soul mate. There is someone as dense as me out there!
Dessert? Well no pumpkin pie. Instead we had apple pie with custard or chocolate pie and cream. Now this cream isn't like whipped cream it's the type one would pour into coffee. I'll let you picture that. Must say though the apple pie was delish! I skipped the whole watching football part and then went clubbing instead.
Saturday though I did go to a football game. I froze my balls off. It was Fulham and Birmingham. I was impressed that GW got us such nice seats. We were literally six rows behind the goalie. I felt really proud of myself when I realized Clint Dempsey played for Fulham...the only American soccer player other then Landon Donovan I know. CLint scored, which prompeted me to chant U-S-A. No one joined me...oh well. After a freezing 90 minutes it was a 1-1 tie. I wasn't going to lose sleep over who won so I left.
I would like to the devote the last section of my blog to get political for one moment. America starting in 2011 you will have to make a choice that will affect you for many years to come. One that is bigger then the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the economy, DADT, or immigration reform. It is about television. You see starting in the fall of 2011, Cheryl Cole is going to become the new Paula Abdul on the American version of The X Factor. I'm warning you. It ain't gonna be pretty. This is what you are getting yourself into America! Don't say I warned you.
OH and also...I have my way of finding things out about a lot of things but especially how many views this blog gets, especially when you use google. I see what was searched to locate this blog. Here are two of my favorites from the past week: "Do people really hook up in the Maughan Library", "Funny Red Chair Stories", and "Helen Keller house in Amsterdam"....OK first of all, who googles the first one!? The second one I can see I suppose,and who ever is the moron who also though the Helen Keller house is in Amsterdam...I have found my soul mate. There is someone as dense as me out there!
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