Tuesday, March 15, 2011

This Post is Not About Emily

Ok, so I think I've had enough time to recover from BEDFORT. It's time to get writing again. Not that anything exciting has happened since the last post, let's not get silly now.
I think I'll just rant for a while. OH I KNOW I'll split it into parts. Parts=GOOD TIMES.
American Party
Last week, a friend of mine in the program and I threw our English friends (you know, the ones who are better than you? Yeah, those) a party/dinner with American food and stuff. The menu consisted of cream soda (which we totally DID NOT attain from Sainsbury's or anything), green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce (kind of?), chicken, and apple crisp with vanilla ice cream for dessert. Both of us rocked out the cooking skills, and it was actually really good (no jokes about his happening on Internation Women's Day, please). Nothing went wrong if you don't count the power going out for some reason right when I was trying to cut the chicken. Which is really the ideal time for the lights to go out, when you're weilding large knives. Luckily, my friend had candles in her flat from the last time the power went out. Yeah, there was a last time. Unluckily, she didn't have any matches to light these candles. So instead we used phones and whatever for light because we are technologically aware. Until about halfway through the meal, when Josh finally says,
"Has anyone checked the fuse?"


So then it was Greg to the rescue, as light was returned to the flat promptly. But then they were swiftly turned off again because for some reason Josh liked eating in the dark. Memories.

While a bunch of my friends jetted off to Ireland last weekend, I tried to save money by staying in the city. But to assuage the jealous depression, I went with some friends to Bromley, a random suburb/town/something maybe 15-20 minutes from London. It was actually pretty lovely. Nothing like OMG SO GREAT LOVE IT but just nice. We spent some time walking around the "shopping center" (read: mall) there. That I actually found pretty ironic, because that's all I ever did on weekends in high school because.... Minnesota. And obviously I came all the way to England for such a new, rich cultural experience. But it was fun and I got Quizno's so ALL GOOD. We then strolled around this park set a bit away from the stores, and it was really cute and great and other words. I would be totally fine living there forever if I could teach American history in a high school there. If they had American history classes. Or high schools. *sighs forever*
And then we went to Spoons. I feel like this is how all my London stories end.

Canary Wharf
This morning I had to go on a field study to Canary Wharf along the Thames for my history class here, and it was kind of weird. It was like a different London, or not even London at all. Everything was new and business-y, I felt very out of place. There were tons of banks and whatnot, and we even saw a Bank of America, leading us to think, "Just how LONG was that tube ride?!" because we hadn't seen one of those anywhere on this side of the Atlantic. But I decided I will take old, gorgeous architcture over modern skyscrapers any day of the week. Which, in all honesty, I already knew. But whatever.

On Friday night, I went to a gig of this one guy who posts songs and does things on youtube. And while this might lead some to be skeptical of talent, that some is stupid, because it was a fantastic show. Besides one of the earlier bands, with a lead singer who screamed into the mic like a freaking baby bird. Calm down, man. You're fine. But it was super exciting because the guy, Eddplant, was backed up by two other youtubers I know of, and while I wasn't obviously fangirling, inside there was some squealing and jumping happening. Especially after I figured out another famous vlogger had been literally RIGHT behind me taking pictures.
London's just the best decision I have ever made in my entire life. And I decided to try using cake mix to make pancakes instead of pancake mix. Cake pancakes = ALWAYS a good decision.

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