the fire's here to stay

after reflecting upon The Phantom of the Opera for the past few days, I've realized that I really didn't like it that much. I love the soundtrack, which I have on my ipod (the Sarah Brightman version) and to be honest, I really do enjoy the movie, even though Emmy Rossum is kind of a pansy. But this show just didn't work. the girl who played Christine over-acted and the guy who played the Phantom had trouble balancing his powerful chest voice with the more delicate, tenor sections, and that made me mad. the set was brilliant though, and there's a scene where the large chandelier that's been hanging over the audience "falls" over the people and into the stage and that was pretty dramatic. probably the best part of the whole experience was sitting next to my friend Wayne (a cappella, ya'll!) because he loved it so much and was so happy that it made me happier.

Tuesday was quite the jolt back into "school" since I hadn't done anything remotely academic in 5 days. first things first, we got the terrible news that our professor, Michael Levenson, broke his ankle really badly running and has to stay off of it for 10 days which means we wont see him until the last day of our program next Thursday :( I was really sad to hear that he got hurt and also that we lost both of our professors. but wait....DA DA DA DAHHH!

My absolute favorite professor of all time, Cynthia Wall, who lives in London with her partner and fellow UVA Professor J. Paul Hunter will be taking over!!!! I'm so excited because I love love loveee this woman. YAY!

we finished the final episode of Seven Up when the kids reached 49 years old. not sure why but these peeps are aging TERRIBLY. it's honestly disgusting. one woman has more wrinkles than yzma (for example, please view the film "The Emperor's New Groove". tony cheated on his wife, half of them were divorced and remarried (and some of them divorced again), and all of the men started balding. can't wait for old age...

after lunch we met up with PROFESSOR WALL!! at the Museum of London. there was a brand new exhibition in 3 galleries about the History of London from the Great Fire (1666) to about 1850, then 1850-1940s, and then 1940s to present. they had some pretty cool stuff. lots of artifacts with tiny little placards that detailed them and some interactives "for kids" but I think we all know that I was interacting with those ones. they had a timeline around the center of the whole thing and it had a quote from one of the poems we read! William Blake, ya'll!

upon departing from the museum we immediately left for Greenwich. this would have been moderately exciting to me except that at this point my cold was reaching peak evilness and my throat felt like 1st year (please contact Daniela Solano or either of my parents for specifics). so I'm feeling terrible and we've got to take a 50 minute boatride to get there. obviously I fall asleep because death is imminent. it takes us about 15 minutes to reach the Greenwich Observatory (RIP Stevie) and then we must climb 10 minutes of the steep precipiceness that is the hill (more death). finally we reach the top-- where you can straddle the western and eastern hemisphere, a nerdy picture is taken, and we climb back down. great!

dinner at pizza express (where ELSE!?) followed by an hour-long tube ride home complete with man sprinting onto the train to catch it and then making awkward "OMG I SO TOTALLY MISSED THE TRAIN" faces.

wednesday we discuss more poetry. I have a new favorite. by david young. from "poem in three parts." favorite stanza:

Once again I do not know

how this can be turned into words

and held steady

even for a moment:

it slides across your eye

and flickers in your mind.

so gooooooood.

we then went to a photography exhibition in Oxford Circus by an artist from Lexington, VA--not too far from Charlottesville, ya'll!!--called Sally Mann. she's considered pretty controversial because her early work was inspired by her three children, in which she photographed them from ages 3, 5, and 8 in the nude. it's fine when they're young but she continued to pose them nude until they were considerably older--I think maybe 13 or something--and lots of people had problems with the exhibition. personally I found the photographs to be totally beautiful and not at all pornographic or offensive. her kids (two girls and one boy) are absolutely beautiful and have this kind of eerie precociousness about them. they have these intense faces in their photos. it was really inspiring. she moved on to capturing images of the Virginia landscape in a surprisingly well-transitioned shift. these were totally beautiful too and makes me miss Virginia (only an eeeeensy bit). we also went into a room that displayed about 8 images she had done of dead, decaying corpses but I'll just say that wasn't really my thing and I dipped out of there asap.

today is the day I start feeling really terrible and realize how sick I am. It has gone from a sore throat and body pain to full blow sinus infection very quickly. but what the fuck else is new, right? however, I decide to man-up because at 3 o clock England is playing and obvi I want to see the game. so we wander around the area for about 15 minutes struggling to find a pub with a television (that doesn't also have some private event for the game) and I end up asking a waitress at a cafe. she points us in the direction of "The Old Explorer" pub, which turned out to be a fine decision.

sadly we got there a little bit too late to get great seats but we squished into couches for the game. the people in our area were super fun and noisy and drunk (even though it was only 3-holler!) and most of them were still dressed in their suits like they had literally taken off from work to watch this game. additionally, Snakebites are offered.

my minimal alcohol consumption has lead to an increase in fatigue and general feelings of death so when we amble over to Kensington to get dinner before our class play I fall asleep in the booth on the restaurant. in my skirt. thanks, Kels for the photo? coooooool so we then make our way over to the play, Sucker Punch, directed by one Roy Williams. go tarheels?

I can't really figure out why exactly I hated this play. I'm going to assign 45% of my distate to my illness, 35% to the abysmal acting, 10% to the existence of the girl who played "Becky", and 10% to the absolutely absurd "American accent" put on by one of the characters. that was just a rough assignment of percentages, but seriously I didn't enjoy it at all and I think it had some serious potential. there were moments where I almost liked it, but mostly I didn't connect to any of the characters, I thought the writing to be rather poor, the actors said their lines too quickly and without the right amount of emotion for the line they were saying, and the plot (racial tensions in 1970s London by means of a white man coaching a black man in boxing) was a bit used, in my opinion. did I mention I was also sick?

****chelsea falls asleep at a record 10:14pm.

by this time I am close to death. i've started taking antibiotics but they haven't kicked in yet and I'm generally feeling that the end is near. much like I shall soon perish. I write the first draft of my will. jk.

Thursday morning I make it up for a meager breakfast and class where we discuss the play for 45 minutes and I contribute one comment with a nose full of snot and depression. the rest of my classmates have to grab a quick lunch on Baker Street because we have a walking tour with the infamous Roger Bowdler of Parliament and Buckingham Palace and the rest of that area but I stay behind.

I realize that this was a sad walk to miss because it's all the juicy, photo-oppy historic stuff but I really needed to sleep. I napped until about 130 and then got my things together, grabbed a quick lunch to-go (or take away, as they say here) and hopped on the Tube to meet Group A for tea and snacks at Professor Wall's flat.

her home is the cutest thing you've ever seen. I've seen her place in Charlottesville (on JPA Extended) and it was totally your standard English professor's house. This then, would be your standard English professor's summer flat in London. the kitchen/living room area is one big open room and then they have a couple little nooks for their bedroom, etc. not the biggest place in the universe but cozy and bright with lots of big windows and book EVERYWHERE. she had made us little finger sandwiches, crumpets with jam and clotted cream (mmmm), the best strawberries I've ever tasted and cherries, and some assorted cookies. also hard-boiled quail eggs which I was not interested in but which were adorable nonetheless.

after tea we came back to Regent's for a little bit and I met Molly and Caroline in the lobby so we could go see MAMMA MIAAAAAAAA AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it was a blast I had so so much fun. the girl who played Sophie was no Amanda Seyfried but then, few are. the only thing I was really disappointed in was the opening and closing "I Have Dream" songs because the actress who played Sophie didn't seem to be able to sing softly and high--like she could only belt high. so the thing started off with me being really nervous that I would be disappointed. but the rest was amazing. the woman who played Donna was unreal, she was soooooooooo good. I was also worried that all the little one liners from the movie would just be duplicated on stage but there were fresh jokes in there that were super funny.

That night I came back and, still really sick, tried to go to bed early (around 11pm) but I had consumed some Diet Coke before the Mamma Mia show and caffeine really doesn't work with me if I drink it after like 4pm. so I was exhausted but sleep didn't really come. and it was midnight. and then 1am. and then I think the last time I saw was about 2:30am. AH. both my roommates got up at 5:15am because they were going to Wimbledon and you have to get there really early to stand in line for tickets so when their alarms went off at the crack of dawn, I was up. and never fell back asleep. so I got a little bit less than 3 hours that night. lovelyyyyyy!!

While I was attempting to kill time in the morning I was also gearing myself up for my daytrip to Oxford! I was kind of starting to bum out because I hadn't really heard that very many people were going. The first two weeks of daytrips most everyone went because they were to fun places and why the hell not, but I think since this was the last weekend of the program and the last definite weekend people would be in London they had their own boxes to check off that maybe didn't include Oxford.

People on the trip to Oxford included: Chelsea, Jon and Meg (program admins who organized the trip), Chris Post, and Chris Post's Mom Dr. Barb. woooooooooooooo! crazyyyyy.

But we actually had a great time and it was a completely unique experience because there wasn't so much stress about counting a big group and worrying about who wants to see what or us all fitting and I think in the long wrong we got to do more because it took less time for 5 of us to get in, see things, and get out.

The train ride there was packed and we couldn't get seats until about 15 minutes out so I just listened to Michael Buble on my iPod to destress from lack of sleep.

Then I entered magic world. For starters, the very first pub we pass is called The Wahoo right next to one Glee Club. Ummm....yes? UVA A CAPPELLA FO LIFE! the first, and most famous college at Oxford is called Christ College. Aside from the fact that 14 of England's Prime Ministers attended, it is also, and most importantly, the site of filming for the first 2 Harry Potter films. So I got to see the hall where Harry first meets Draco (You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't wanna go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there) and where McGonagall comes up to let them into the Great Hall for sorting--here I took a picture on the staircase holding up a pen like a wand...And then we also got to go INTO the Great Hall--where I took a picture with a glass of invisible Butterbeer. Sadly, the pictures on the wall did not move and the floating candles were absent but all in all AN AMAZING TIME!

We then walked back toward the main drag for lunch at the Eagle and Child, a really famous pub where JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis used to hang out with their literary groups. I decided to be really adventurous and try to 'Vegetarian Sausage'. got a little scared when Meg suggested that the reason is was taking so long was because "no one's probably ordered it in awhile so maybe they don't know where it is..." EW MEG. but it was realllllllllly yum.

from here we wandered around other colleges, saw the Rhodes House (mansion) where Rhodes Scholars hang out, and went into lots of college's gardens and halls. lots of pretty pictures! we took a nice little stroll by the river and then made our way back toward the center of the town where Chris and his mom went over to see the track where the 4 minute mile was broken (Chris is an insane runner--runs like 15 miles every morning or something) and Meg and Jon and I did some shopping and hanging. I got a navy and dark green Oxford rugby shirt :)

Jon had his heart set on a milkshake from MOO MOOs AND on a cookie from Ben's Cookies so that happened...(meg and I played it safe and not to mention healthier) with some iced coffee.

The train ride back was more comfortable but again, just had the caffeine, so I didn't nap. When I got back to Baker Street ELIZABETHHHHH!!! was waiting for me and she came back to Regents with me while I took a shower and we got ready for dinner and a night out. We got dinner at an Indian Curry restaurant with German-Turk and then went to meet up with his friend James, who I had met the very first night.

2 hours and 34230985093 calls later Becca and Kelsey find us at Commercial Tavern. They are covered in sunburn and are verrrrrry drunk, specifically Kelsey. Becca was also the funniest any person has ever been on this night. I peed myself laughing. but I was the only one. damnittttttt. bar closed at 11pm randomly so clubbing also happened. and it was insane.

Saturday was kind of a weird day. the weather here has gotten so hot that I feel like I'm constantly melting and on the verge of passing out. we got breakfast around 10 and noodled around trying to figure out what to do, ultimately deciding to go to Covent Garden to go "shopping." Instead, we got there and immediately bumped into a table offering free samples of chips and guacamole to advertise for a new Mexican restaurant. umm...jackpot? everything I could have ever wanted. and more.

after some fake attempts at shopping we decided we had to check out the mehicano restaurant. and ohhh did we. 2 orders of guac (the kind they make right at your table) and 1 of chile con queso. i died. had to walk it off. also, I've been desperately trying to do some serious shopping damage but I just can't find anything that I really want to buy. it's very frustrating. and yet somehow the money still gets spent....

we came back with full intentions of Liz going home on the train but convinced her to come back out with us!!! Kels, Bels (Becca), and I had our first shower party (where we all pick stalls near each other and shower, nothing fishy now) and got ready to go out again. we went to Las Iguanas!! this awesome (and also Mexican) restaurant that Kelsey and Becca had been to last weekend. they had an extreeeemely generous drink special that we convinced Liz to join in on because her dad wasn't going to come until after Ghana and USA finished their game. RIP USA :( wee! we went back to the absurd bar from the night before (Commercial Tavern) and were again kicked out at 11pm- no one knows why.

Sunday was spent with German-Turk. we played in the sunshine and then met the girls back at Las Iguanas for continued drink specials and then all 4 of us went back to Camden to watch the

England/Germany game with his friend James. Becca and Kelsey hit up World's End while Selim and I tried to find James at the place he was at--Lockside Lounge. we couldn't find him so watched until halftime at one place. I should have been grateful for this heap of hotness because nothing could have prepared me for how fucked up Lockside Lounge was. it was hotter than the 7th circle of hell and I was fully prepared to die. it was also very funny to watch the boy try to keep his excitement down as Germany beat the crap out of England. RIP England.

never died but I got sick for about an hour once I got back to Regents. heat + drinking = not good. I was forced to rally for once last hurrah at The World's End but I physically could consume nothing but water. I'm gonna miss you, snakebites :(

documentation of Monday and Tuesday later today. gotta take a nap before class. sorry I've been such a lazy piece of sheet.

** I realize it seems like I drank a lot this weekend. and maybe I did. but it was my last real London weekend. and I had to do it right.

LOVE. ck.

alive and well, just running on about 8 hours of sleep...in 3 days

I know, I know. I'm fired.

It's been 5 days since I've blogged. what have you guys been doing without me!?

Since Wednesday my life has been kind of a blur. a really fun and crazy blur, but one that's led to a lack of sleep and stage one of my death, also known as the common cold. so please forgive me for being so missing in action, and let's get this thing started.

THURSDAY:

if we recall, I went to a rather violent (yet compelling) theatrical presentation of Macbeth last Wednesday.

thursday morning involved our discussion of the play as a group and our end-of-week recapitulation and basically our feelings after 2 weeks of being in London.

My thoughts are kind of all over the place. A part of me will always feel a little bit sad to be away from my family and friends. True to my theory about living, I feel strongly that life is short and my time should be spent with people I have the most fun with and care most about. Unfortunately a lot of those people aren't here with me in London. and even though I've made a few really amazing friends, there's still a tiny sense of longing for familiar faces and voices (the longing has been seriously complicated by my computer's suicide threats and the self-induced temper tantrum committed after 45 minutes of use--thus leading to infrequent skype dates).

on the other side of the coin I feel like I don't ever want to leave this place. I've always known that I was more of a "city girl" than a suburban girl (sorry, Fairfax) and I think it's safe to say that I'm not even going to mess with the country, but I'm still shocked at how easily I fit into life in London. I'm really really comfortable here. Like I blend in enough to feel at ease but the city makes me feel fresh and noticed. It's given me this energy that I can't explain. It's been kind of surreal because I never knew there was something missing but now that I feel this way it's like there was even more to me than I knew. it's inspired me to want to extend my graduate school applications to London schools!! so I'm very excited about that.

after our 2nd week recap we also had to say goodbye to one of our professors, Clare Kinney, who headed back to the states today, Monday. MISS YOU ALREADY, CLARE BEAR!

next we got lunch and then headed back to Hampstead to have a walking tour with Roger Bowdler, the funny architect. it was literally one of the most beautiful days I've ever experienced, and thank god because the walk was 2 hours long. we visited this really amazing cemetery I got real morbid taking lots of pictures weeeee!

after Hampstead we came back for dinner and I was somehow convinced, despite my severe fatigue coming on, that the Improv (in England called Impro) Show at 8:30pm was a GREAT PLAN. call it my negative attitude, call it an advanced knowledge of great humour, I did NOT enjoy this show. the first half was entirely music-themed, with the "comedians" singing songs one line or even one word at a time and the second half was not much better. I think I laughed once and it was because of something Becca said from 2 seats over. 5 pounds down the drain.

the highlight of my night was after we had left the show and after spending some time at a pub that served Snakebites (sort of) my friends wanted to stop off at KFC--wtf, ew!--and Nica and I snuck into the out-of-service bathroom. I lost approximately 4 months off my life from the stench. seriously not good. Nica then proceeded to throw french fries at all things until we got home.

FRIDAY!!

We went to the Bath Spas in the country! about and hour and a half outside the city. I had zero knowledge of the Roman Bath element to this town--because apparently I've never read a damn book--but they were STUNNING! I had no idea all the history and dirty details of the baths and how they worked (and please don't ask me to repeat them) but it was great. Unfortunately we chose to spend 10 pounds on a guided tour of the baths which sounds helpful but actually, we would have gotten these telephone-esque walky talkies that were synched up to a voice tour where you could press the number of a sign you saw while walking and it would tell you about what you were seeing. that was actually much more informative and interesting but alas, what can you do?

a few of us split off and went over to the Assembly Rooms as characterized in a few Jane Austen novels and I was pumpeeeed to see where all my favorite heroines spent their holidays :) Nica and I even joined together for some old school dancing (read we posed like we were dancing for a picture and called it a day).

we then made our way back over to the center of the town for High Tea! so precious. I had yummy green tea with mango and a coffee-walnut cake. it was very mmmm! Becca, Kelsey, and I then decided to head back early a few trains ahead of the rest of the group because Liz was coming to meet me after work!! this would have been totally fine except for one thing, and we shall call this thing: CHLOE.

Chloe and I are not acquainted. At least I'm not sure we are. She could have been the heinous woman sitting next to the extremely low-class man with the name Chloe tattooed in hideous medieval block lettering onto his neck. She could have been some random whore tattoo man had a "connection" with. I don't really care. the main issue here is that apparently, tattoo and maybe-Chloe-maybe-neglected-female sat next to us on said train ride and decided that we were too "American" for them because they made some loud, whiny comment about our nationality and, as they were getting off the train at the first stop, neck boy threw up his half-full cup of rosee wine into the air and onto the three of us and the poor gentleman who let us share his table.

Yes. you read this correctly. he threw wine at us. and said "Oh...hmm...sorry..." in a very assholey voice, to which I responded "uhhhmmm you don't sound sorry" and then he and his woman left. IS THIS A JOKE!? such disgusting human beings. lowest of lows. hope he got hepatitis C from his horrendous tat. **as a side note, I would like to just say that nobody said anything to this guy or helped us out at all when the incident occurred. in some defense, we thought it was pretty funny at first because honestly, why the hell would that ever happen, it was too weird, but come on, England, help some sisters out...

So the wine eventually dried and we got back to school to meet Lizzy! we changed and mellowed for a second before heading back out to everyone's favorite pub, The World's End in Camden.

we'll get dinner when we get there, they said.

we're not that hungry, they said.

they really should start thinking ahead.

someone, sadly, jumped onto the third rail in the underground moments before we realized we (Chelsea) had taken us on the longest possible root to Camden, so not only were we basically stranded on a line that was miles and miles away from our final destination and no longer in service, but the rest of the world inconvenienced by this suicide was also scurrying about trying to figure out a new root. it took us about and hour and 45 to get to Camden, by which time the England game was already 30 minutes underway. keep in mind, still no food.

so we got drinks and frolicked watching the game. and then for whatever reason my London confidence encouraged me to strike up conversation with the extremely sexy Italian boys who were standing behind us. (your welcome, Kelsey and Becca).

they were hilarious. the language barrier was only somewhat of a problem and only with one of them. they kept trying to buy us drinks, and my name is now in "Emmanuelli's" phone as "Chelsea (Blonde One)" great great night. Kelsey thinks so too ;)

SATURDAY:

Saturday morning was an early start. not really sure why even, since all I did was shower and read until breakfast. which I inhaled, btw, because I still never got dinner. At noon I went to hang out with Selim, the German boy (who is in fact very Turkish, his family just moved to Germany about 50 years ago). we got cheeses and a baguette from the street market and went home and made hummus and just hung out all day. don't need to go into the gory details but it I'll just say it was one of my best days here.

quote of the day:

"Woahh...that girl was realllllllllllllly tall."

"I think that was a man."

"oh."

SUNDAY:

in case no one told you silly Americans, yesterday was the summer solstice. what does this mean, you might ask? I'm pretty sure it just means it's the longest day of the year. UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR.

we raced to the train station for a 5:15 train to go "see the solstice" at Stonehenge, the famous prehistoric monument. toting delicious snacks and coffee, we made the hour and half long trek to Salisbury for 18.50 pounds. we then took a 9 pound bus ride to a randomly placed "stop" where we all got out and walked for about 3 miles (but for free!) through a hilly, hidden hole-filled, cowpie field of doom until we made it to STONEHENGE! wait--is that really it? huh...thought they'd be bigger...

apparently, this special annual event brings out a quite a lively crowd. and boy oh boy does it. about half of these individuals are the creepiest people one could ever meet. some looked homeless, some were just dressed to look homeless, some were dressed up in matching and clearly homemade costumes of black and purple fabrics with facepaint chanting Pagan rituals and with a goat skull bringing up the rear, some were insane hippies with drums and bells around their ankles and dreadlocks that dragged on the ground. you get my point. WEIRD, WEIRD SHIT.

it was basically like woodstock. only in England instead of the States. and by a pile of rocks instead of by musicians. and with about 1,000 extra psychos. still plenty of weed and acid, though, so that was a plus. JUST KIDDING MOM! I only do the REALLY hard stuff. so like the nerdy UVA kids were are we played "Fish Bowl," a variation of Catch Phrase, Taboo, and Sherades. it was sort of awesome. sort of long and stressful. my team lost 52-69.

it then began to get rather dark. and rather cold. and then really cold. and then really really cold. what the hell, is this the summer solstice or the winter one? frozen solid, ya'll!

this was supposed to be an all-night rave but most of us crashed by about 1:30am. I never actually slept but I could not pretend that I wasn't afraid that hypothermia would set in, and I thought it best to find my happy place of warmth and love in the fetal position with my eyes closed.

by about 3:30 we were all starting to chirp about how much we hated our lives, Stonehenge, and summer solstices. the sunrise (which is one of the "coolest" parts about the experience--yeah, this thing sucked, ok) was supposed to happen right around 4am. BUT OF COURSE we're in fucking England and the sun never shines because there are always clouds threatening to make it pour. so we huddled around watching the clouds cover the sun until about 515 when I started to cry because my feet were so cold.

so now we have to do the 3 mile hole-y, cowpie death march BACK to the "bus stop," take the smelly bus back to the station, and wait for our train. which, by the way, isn't until 9:45am (4 hours from now) and they won't allow us to go to the platform for food or toilets until 8:45. so we trudge into the "city" of Salisbury and collectively resemble death. no public restrooms are open at 6am. or 630. around 645 we wait in line outside of The King's Head Inn which will open for breakfast at 7am. LIARS. 7:15 we go into the restaurant, use the bathrooms, and about half of us fall asleep in the booth. we get yelled at for sleeping so Becca and Kelsey and I say "fook you" to the king and his head and traipse over to Starbucks which opens at 730. our spirits are significantly lifted by coffee and muffins and our own personal couches in the upstairs common area.

we fall asleep. we are again chastised for sleeping in a restaurant. we fall asleep again.

back through the city to the train station. onto the platform. oh shit, wrong platform.

only 3 coaches? are we even going to get seats?

molly finds 5 of us seats, 3 are left behind.

all 5 of us pass out hard core.

***

"next stop is...Woking."

***

"next stop is...Waterloo." (this is what we want)

***

yawwwwwn...

"next stop is...Wimbledon."

oh shit, you guys.

oh shit. did we miss our stop? OHHHHHH MY GOD.

just kidding we didn't. wouldn't that have been funny? (no.)

all in all, worst day of my entire life.

good news is we got to miss class (which was ok and even encouraged by Professor Levenson).

we somehow convinced our weary bodies that we had the energy to buy tickets to The Phantom of the Opera? but we got pretty decent tickets for a pretty decent price, came back to Regents, inhaled lunch, showered, and passed out until dinner.

I'm officially too tired to detail Phantom, which I saw tonight, but I promise I will fill you all in tomorrow.

missing everyone like crazy but I'm having a blast! BIG LOVE, ck.

and then it all got a little blurrier...

today, I decided to put off showering. I like the smell of London on my skin. and I'm struggling pretty hard to get up in the mornings. today was no exception. I somehow managed to drag my body to the refectory and put away yogurt and cereal and make it to class. Prof. Kinney (a Shakespeare whiz) lectured on Macbeth and the Globe Theater for 45 minutes, our thoughts were reviewed for 15, and class ended promptly at 11 when I slothed my way back up to my room and passed out until noon for lunch.

after lunch we went to SEE Macbeth at the Globe Theater and it was unreal. the director took some serious risky and risqué liberties on this one. the "Groundlings" are the people whose tickets only allow them to stand on the floor by the stage. at this play, a black sheet was tied to the stage with holes for people to put their heads through (supposed to represent Hell haha), making it more spacious for one to stand and with less people in the standing room only. it also made it possible for actors covered in stage blood and pretending to be haggard souls to emerge at random parts of the show and moan and twist their bodies around. SICK!

the actor who played Macbeth looked like Heath Ledger's (RIP!) older and slightly balding (but still extremely sexy) older brother. he had that same earth shattering smile and husky voice. mmmm! someone raised a question in class earlier wondering whether Macbeth and Lady Macbeth would be really loving or really distant or someone in between (since you could play it any of those ways). this director chose to encourage the loving version. or should I say love-making. there was a quasi pornagraphic sex scene in this version of Macbeth, and a near-rape scene between the murderous duo. wonder what Bill would have thought. it was intense. there was also A LOT of blood. but I guess that's to be expected in a play about lots of death. it was great though, despite the surprises. Additionally, upon pulling my glasses OUT OF THEIR CASE to see the show, I discovered that one of the side had broken off and one of the lenses was scratched. COOL LIFE, CHELSEA! CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO SEE THE REST OF LONDON! fuck me, right? mahalo. (miss you pants/soaps).

when we got out at about 445 I had an hour and half to kill before meeting Liz so Becca and I found a coffee shop and chatted. With 20 minutes to spare we headed towards the Tube stop 100 yards away. what's that you say? not a Tube stop? An "overground" train stop? A whaaa??

Chelsea: Excuse me, could you tell me where the nearest Tube stop is?

Friendly-ish Brit: Uhhh, haha, you're pretty far away from any Tube stop. Which one are you looking for?

Chelsea: cooooooooooooool. Looking for Barbican.

Brit: go diagonally right until you get to St. Pauls and there's a stop there but by the time you got on a to Barbican you could probably just walk there.

Chelsea: aweeeeeeeeeesome thanks.

WRONG WRONG WRONG.

we get to St. Pauls okay but Barbican was another story. 30 minutes and $10 worth of calls to Liz's cell phone I find her. we're meeting up because her mum (who sings in the London Symphony Chorus) is performing with the London Symphony Orchestra and a famous pianist and soprano. The pianist, Vladimir Feltsman, blew my mind. I've never seen anything like it. It was 45 straight minutes of him mastering the piano like he had written the piece himself. So much emotion, so much expression, so much passion. I wish I could do anything half as well has he played that piano. It was stunning. I was less impressed with the soprano singer, Sally Matthews, mostly just because I had already heard the Chorus perform that piece a few weeks back in this tiny church and I enjoyed that sound so much more than with her and the orchestra over top of them. It was obviously still really enjoyable. They did Poulenc's Gloria, a total masterpiece.

Tomorrow we get to go on a walking tour with Roger Bowdler, that awesome architectural historian from last week. Greaaaaaaaat my injured groin muscle is going to LOVE that. best be stocking up on Ibuprofin and heating pads.

more soon (and I promise one of these days I'll try to get intellectual up here)! big love, CK.

I'm so fucking fucked up in this fart pub blahhh

yesterday was the World Cup game between the US and England. but I'm sure you knew that. the plan was to go to Camden Market (where there are lots of street vendors under tents selling ill shit) and then back toThe World's End pub (the one above where I saw that show last weekend) to watch the World Cup game. I purchased my new fave ring of all time and some cool little euro shoesies!

Making our way over to the pub, we got there pretty early but the place was still packed with people (standing room only, Y'all!--don't worry, I don't actually say ya'll now, but Britt can tell you all about it). i almost immediately met this guy (called Paul) who heard my accent and asked me when I'd come to root for America. uhh, never, Paul! I'm all about ENG-GA-LAND ENG-GA-LAND ENG-GA-LANDDDDDD (my new fave drinking song)!! so he's like beautiful and funny and teaches at a high school for underprivileged kids. exxxxcellent. he was talking my ear off and being really friendly and sweet to my friends. I was pretty stoked about Paul. and then he introduced me to HIS friends, who immediately (one in particular, Becky, whose 23rd birthday it was) took and extreme and immediate disliking to me. I couldn't figure it out. then she and her friends started glaring and me with those looks that kill and whispering things that I can only imagine would haunt my dreams. not cool, becky. I was certain they hated me. it took me about 25 minutes to put it together but I sleuthed the shit out of this little mystery of hate and whispers. my dear friend Paul had a girlfriend SKEEZE WTF I HATE YOU. and apparently he "always does this" (hits on innocent and lovely girls like me) so I peaced outta his sightline asap and talked shit about him with his other friends. suck on that, Paul, youz a dick.

even though I'm acting like I was totally cool about it, at the time I was pretty distressed about this Paul business and even texted daniela, channeling emo tears of death. he really fooled me. so I attempted to drink my sorrows away via Snakebite (hip British drink). then i see this gaggle of 5 or 6 boys and immediately notice the tall one. he's got that sneaky, pretentious, evil but sexy look about him. I keep my cool. I then see a sign above the bar that says "Pimm's $10.90" (and by $ i mean pounds but my comp can't do that so like $16). and I turn to one of his friends who'd had his back to me and say something like "holy shit, is a pitcher of Pimms really worth that much?" And then I fell in love.

His name is Selim. He's German. 28 years old and in Film School in London for screen writing. he's very charming, and very funny, and has this creative pensiveness about him that I really like. he's got my number. let's see if the Deutschman can make some moves.

today was mostly a wash. didn't get much done except watch Love Actually and NOT do my reading for class. I should probs get on that.

hopefully this week will be really busy and exciting like last and I can write about actual things and not just about futbol and Pimms. LOVE! ck

lookinggg for thisssss?

i meant to blog last night but i got back at like 12:30am (so wild) and was too tired. and now I can't remember a single thing I did yesterday. sooooo blackout.

we had class 10-1230 and a visit from Sophie Laws, this awesome and not to mention hilarious old British professor who talked to us about religion's role in the history of England. after we discussed that ill play we saw and then "wrapped up" the week. OH YEAH! now I remember.

after lunch we went on a walking tour of Kensington, the surrounding Gardens, and some kids went to see Notting Hill (to Hill and Nottingbird?) but some of us were too tired and skidaddled early. the area was so awesome and wayyy posh, not to mention it's in a joining borough with Chelsea (holla). Loads of famous literary people lived in the neighborhood: TS Eliot, James Joyce, Henry James, etc. totally cool dudes, if you ask me.

When we got back we all picked up dinner from the Refectory to watch 21 Up! (the next episode--and about 3 times as long--from the series about the English kids). it was kind of sad. 2 girls had gotten married at 20, both were psycho. one guy dropped out of school and became homeless. one guy working in the freezer of a meat company. UGH. so depressing. now I hate Up.

I was ready to call it a night at 7:30 but I had to rally. We went back into Camden to the World's End pub again to scope out the scene for the Saturday England-US game. it was as rad as I remembered it being. now I really can't wait.

this morning we got up at the asscrack of dawn to go to Cambridge. the train ride there was supes fun because me, Wayne, Becca, and Molly played this ridiculous card game called "Mao" that was actually really hilarious and kind of hard. my competitive streak got the best of me yet again. I won the last game WOO! it's basically crazy 8s (you can only play the same suit or the same number) but there are a ton of extra rules that start the game and every time someone wins they make a new rule. to top it off, you're not allowed to have the rules explained to you, you're supposed to just "figure it out." VERY fun.

cambridge was crazy. very old and very beautiful. but to be honest, after I paid 2 random pounds to walk up a bajillion steps to see the view of all the colleges from the top, I wasn't really down to frolic to all of them on foot, so me, Becca, Kelsey, and Kayla just went shopping :) tehe. I found a vintage turquoise and black plaid button down that any emo, skinny black jeans wearing hipster would die for (10 pounds), a fun new lil skirt for 8 pounds, and some stirrupped leggings that cost 6 dollars. beat that! (you can't). i also got this ill t-shirt that said:

CAM

BRIDGE

ENG

LAND

weeeeeeee!!!!!!!

there was a brief moment of fear when we realized it was 6:30 and we were gonna cut it close walking home from Primark (Target meets Forever 21 meets the lowest level of Hell) so we took our first cab. nothing too crazy, but still cool.

got home in time for a weirdass dinner of curried something or other, a plate full of more peas than one should ever hope to see and CHIPS!

we were all so tired that we rented Superbad from the school movie library (they didn't have The Emperor's New Groove which was a serious disappointment as Becca and I have been repeating quotes all day--if you heard her Yzma impression with my Kronk impression you could die happy) and watched it in the campus cinema. and now I must pass out. so exhausted from walking the whole day.

BIG GAME TOMORROW! rooting for England so this place goes nutz and I can witness the madness.

missing my Mama and Papa very much. wish I could share all of this with my amazing parents. love you guys! CK

ps: will start posting more pictures again when I get a chance!!

people watching from the southbank...with whipped cream

i refused to shower this morning. it was the first in awhile where I literally had to give myself a pep talk to get out of bed. i thought we'd save sleep time by getting up a little bit later (8:30 instead of 8:15) and so have less time for breakfast (and thus eat less) but it turned out none of our computers were connecting to the internet because we didn't change our passwords for internet access so there was lots of time to kill. i think we had the longest breakfast yet.

we had a guest lecturer in class today, Roger Bowdler, an architectural historian from English Culture. i had a ginormous crush on him. there was a ring on that special finger of his but I'm pretty determined. he had that charming British sense of humor coupled with extreme knowledge of London's history. the perfect mate. he left without me confessing my love for him but DON'T WORRY: he'll be back. thrice more, in fact. i'll keep you posted on the blossoming relationship. we wrapped up discussion on The Secret Agent and then headed out for lunch.

After lunch we traveled to some art gallery in a place I can't recall. I found it extremely boring and I'm fairly sure I was in a semi-comatose state the entire time. it was about female artist's re-expressions of maps? or something? i thought it kinda sucked. i do not care to report further on the matter.

we then were left with 4 hours of "free time" which on my high school trip would have meant drink absinthe and TBC it up but instead we were way more grown up and went to the Southbank early. we were meeting there at 7:15 to see a play at the National Theater.

so we arrived around 3:30, and versed around looking at an open book fair, going into a barnes n nobley store where I read about 7 children's picture books (my favorite was Dogs Don't Do Ballet). we then decided that we were quite famished and decided to get dinner early. we ate at "Wagamama's" a japanese food restaurant where I got veggie dumplings and sticky rice and requested that a delectable-looking sauce from another dish, the "coconut and lime curry sauce" be represented on my plate. The sauce arrived in a soup bowl that could serve 5 hungry men. but it was exxxcellent. we then got ice cream that tasted like thick whipped cream (and has this little stick of chocolateyness called a "flake" and which I had to give up due to my chocoholic STEPS program). the quasi whipped cream was promptly given to my friend Kayla because it was starting to make me feel sick. for the next 2 hours we people watched from a bench. we pretty much hated on anyone who wasn't beautiful or wearing white soccer shorts. no one was safe. unwarranted discrimination is the bestest, ain't it?

after the hate fest we made our way over to the show which consisted of 3 1-hour long acts (aka long as SHIT) but it was superb. it was about this wealthy couple and their acquaintances living in London in the 1930s. they lived this extravagant lifestyle and drank themselves silly simply to avoid being considered "a bore" to one another but actually were sort of faking it all, pretending it was how they wanted to live when actually it didn't work for anyone. their life is uprooted by this totally annoying control freak named Helen who fucked literally everything up. i hated her. the lead guy in it was in Atonement and The Other Boleyn Girl! Woah so famous! he was excellent. good good stuff.

we then came home on the Tube where we passed a rather handsome young gentleman dressed in a suit vomiting into the wall of the Baker Street station and then were approached by a man who introduced himself as "a psychoanalyst who had just been robbed and needed money or a place to stay," asking us "if we were permanent residents of Regent's College. my answer was "yes we live here, no were not here permanently" and AHHHHHHHHHHHH!! psychoanalyst my arse. he was just psycho. very scary. i reported him to our program admins and the front desk who then reported him to the park police. not feeling the crazy.

SHOUTOUT to my Woodson Glax girls who are heading to the Virginia State Championships! I wish I could be there. TWB :)

i would also like to say that I miss my nooter very very much and I cannot wait to make her go see Sex and the City 2 with me upon my return.

it's time for bed over here. much love! CK

freedom is just another word for "nothing to lose"

first real day of class. was awesome. we had a reading quiz on the secret agent by joseph conrad (about this guy who is the owner of a porn shop by day, anarchist by night, and spy for the Russian embassy in secret). sounds like a blast right? it sucked. at least, the first half did. I wouldn't know a damn thing about the second half. but I'm pretty sure I got a 9/10 on the reading quiz. (thanks bonus question!) after our professors had read out the first question the fire alarm went off and 300 people had to exit the building. so typical.

our first discussion lasted about an hour and a half and we talked about our experiences from yesterday at St. Pauls, the Tate Modern, and then about the book. I successfully contributed my 2 cents. or should I say pence? sorry that's just some cute British humour. you wouldn't understand...

I have 2 professors teaching here. The first, Michael Levenson, I've had for 2 semesters but as the professor in front of a class of 300+ teaching parts 2 and 3 of "the history of English lit." he co-taught both courses with prof. Cushman. they are both great guys and amazing teachers but they seem to thrive on the energy of teaching such a big class. in this smaller class of 30ish, Levenson is still very fun and cool and has actually made a great effort to get to know the students on a 1:1. yesterday we talked briefly about my life and he seemed moderately interested. just wait till i get famous, Levenson, then you can say you knew me when my life story consisted of "fairfax, bogart, and a double major." Clare Kinney is the other professor here, born in Northern England in the countryside and very bright. she pushed her way all the way up the ranks of the education ladder to Cambridge, where we will be visiting on Friday! anyway, I really love both the professors. they are both so interesting, obviously love London, and even though they've been teaching this summer study abroad for years, it doesn't seem rehearsed. it all seems like they're starting fresh and making new comments, learning as we do. even our program admins (Jon and Meg, adorable married couple who both took this class as undergrads and who are now PhDs) contribute a lot and say the most thought provoking things. as do many of the students here. wahoowa! (ps: today's blog title is copyright Professor Kinney. took my breath away when she said it too.)

after we got lunch we started watching "the Up Series," a documentary film that began shooting in 1964 with a bunch of 7-year old british kids of varying classes to determine whether their social situations would pre-determine their lives. we watched Seven-Up! (the first installment with the seven year olds) and Seven plus 7 (the second one when the kids were 14). the series continues with new installments every seven years and is soooo interesting. the kids changed quite a bit from the first to second episodes, becoming less innocent and naive and more calculating and self-conscious. very odd combo. some of the cuties from the first episode became heinously unattractive teens going through their awkward puberty stage. so ew. i'm pumped for 21 Up! it'll be weird to see them at my own age.

after the movie and discussion we went on a walk through Regent's Park. we were going to see The Crucible in the open outdoor theater but it was mad rainy so we made alternate plans to potentially see "The Prince of Persia" but it was optional and I was thinking "not so much." The walk started out with raincoats donned and umbrellas in their protective positions but very quickly turned into a warm, sunny afternoon, perfect for a walk in such a gorgeous park. we walked past the fountain described by Virginia Woolf in "Mrs. Dalloway" (which I will be reading by the end of this trip) and then past the zoo (eee!! i saw Pumba!) and then over to Primrose Hill (typical adorable English town) and saw the house where William Butler Yeats lived (later to be inhabited by Sylvia Plath and the very house in which she committed suicide.) in every house where a famous Brit lived the historic society has posted a "blue dot" with the persons name to signify its relevance. apparently there are even walking tours that take you to all the blue dots. This one showed that Yeats had lived there but apparently England has a very serious issue with suicide and in an effort to deter people from glorifying the terrible act, they do not broadcast suicides on the news and did not include Plath's residency at the house. we then climbed to the top of Primrose Hill for the most beautiful view of the London skyline and where my camera promptly lost batteries. exxxxcellent.

we then split off into "the group that wanted to see a neat little secret-ish garden in the park" and "the group that was too tired and hungry to join them." i think you can guess which group I was in, and if you can't it starts with a "potato wedges" and ends with a "green beans and a hard-boiled egg." after dinner I then made what was to become the unfortunate decision to go with half the group back to Leicester Square to the jumbo movie theater to see "The Prince of Persia." it cost 14pounds (about $22), we sat in cramped seats lined with cheetah print, and munched on overpriced candy that quickly caused minor to elevated cases of "need to go to the bathroom NOW!" not to mention, it was starring british and american caucasian actors with english accents playing persians. how awkard. i would consider this one of the top 10 worst movies of all time. do not, under any circumstances, attempt to make any effort to see this movie. even if it's free, do not watch it. even if it's for CHARITY, don't even try. it was the worst. thanks a lot, Walt Disney, for the worst 2 hours of my life. what i would give to have been in the group that stayed.

so all in all the day was a little more tame than yesterday. and look, ma, 2 days without alcohol! woahhh. i should also mention that i made my first clothing purchase: a regent's college long-sleeved polo! for only 3pounds75p. gooooood shit :)

cheers! and goodnight, CK.

castle on a cloud

i've had quite the busy fast few days. obviously. i've been pretty MIA from this little booger.

saturday was a blast. liz and I went into Camden (incidentally very close to regent's park--where i'm staying) for the afternoon because we were going to see a show. the band Every Avenue played at "The Underworld," a venue underneath a moderately famous pub called "The World's End." We waited in line for about an hour but cut in front of the entire line because some really nice mom with an ugly daughter and her ugly friends were waiting in line and she just let us cut. too sweet. not trying to be mean about these girls but seriously. woah. and what are the odds that I would see one of them whilst walking around Leicester Square today (2 days later). slim. but it happened.

i had never heard of the 2 opening bands so we decided to leave the show and get drinks up at the pub above. i had my first Snakebite (beer mixed with grenadine). IT WAS AWESOME. except it was wicked awkward when I went to order one last night and the poor kid behind the counter didn't understand what I was saying because apparently they didn't serve them at this other pub. whatEVER. the show turned out to be a blast. they seemed to have a lot of energy as it was their last night abroad. I attempted to hang with them by introducing myself as a friend of one of their friends but I was either the least attractive girl in the history of the planet or they simply did not have any interest in speaking to me. perhaps a combination of the two. nevertheless, liz and I went home early. at least we tried. someone fell (or mayyybe was pushed) onto the train tracks that go from central london to surrey and died :( the train was delayed.

sunday was my last morning with the brodericks. it was spent watching the season finale of LOST (on DVR), which I will not go into details hating on right here because my mother is reading and she has respectfully requested that I refrain from any specifics but can I just leave it as FUCK YOU LOST, I HATE YOU (sorry for the swear words mama, love you). but seriously. worst end to a great thing. worse than when Frodo and Bilbo sailed off into another world. that was so sad. stupid lost. what a waste of 137 minutes. (yes it was that long and the UK shows less commercials than in the states.)

i had to repack my absurd suitcase, mr. B brought it down the stairs (strong like ox I told him) and luckily it fit in the car. liz and her mom spent about 30 minutes trying to figure out the easiest way for her to drive me into the city to get to my campus. I'm not going to lie, I was fighting back tears when I said goodbye to her.

I was guided to my dorm and then up to my room which I share with 2 girls, Melissa and Becca. Melissa is from outside of Richmond, a rising 3rd year History major who is taking this class "just for fun." Becca is a rising 4th year from Leesburg majoring in Sociology and MY NEW BEST FRIENDDDD. i was informed that i would love her (she's in the same sorority as some of my friends) but you can never be positive. she's the funniest human being alive (right up there with my new aforementioned English friend Jackie). we all bonded pretty quickly and then bought food from the Refectory (aka the dining hall) and ate in a picnic forum in Regent's Park. i got 2 spider bites. I am in pain.

we then explored the area briefly. a bunch of the kids and the precious married program admins were going to a nearby pub so we hung there for a bit and came home. in an attempt to bond with the campus better Becca, my name rhyme bff Kelsey, and my new friend Kayla and I went down to the "lounge." it consists of 6 computers and a TV that shows 6 stations, none of which are "the good ones." we settled on Robin Hood (the one with Kevin Costner) until a girl said her friend was bringing down The Hangover (scoreeee!!) that never happened (bitch) so we just talked shit about her and went hunting for vending machines. that turned out to be a hilarious journey because neither of the 2 we found would let Becca buy the Doritos because they were "sold out" (but they weren't because...they weren't) and Kayla's weird English Gatorade Drink was leaving out of some invisible hole. we then nicked an italian food menu from the guys at the front desk and proceeded to read aloud the strange foods and heinous spelling and grammatical errors. disgusting British food that we would never eat includes "brown sauce" (can we bit a touch more specific?), "burger sauce" (this will never happen) and "doner meat" (def just threw up a lil bit). the grammar issues are too irritating to list.

the night ended around 11pm when we all got sick of our menu and kevin costner. i woke up at 2am with the taste of gross chemicals in my mouth (still not sure what that was all about...) and then again at 4, 430, 5, 530, 6, 645, 715, and finally at 815 when I meant to. that sucked. first night in a new, twin bed (which chemicals in my mouth apparently).

today was craaaaazy busy. we got up at 8:15, down to breakfast at 9:20, college orientation at 10, class at 11, quick tour at 1145, picked up snacks for the day and Becca and Kelsey bought European cell phones, lunch at 12:30, and then all met at the Tube station at 1pm.

we first went to St. Paul's Cathedral where I walked approximately 400 billion steps to the very top. after some quick but lovely picture taking I decided not to push my luck with the whole "fear of heights" business and make my way back down to the main hall of the cathedral where I had to take lots of pictures in stealth mode because you weren't allowed. i got a lot :)

we then made our way over the Millenium Bridge (any Harry Potter fans? this is the bridge that the dementors fuck up in the 6th movie in the very beginning--I'm famous!) and into the Tate Modern Museum. We walked through an exhibit called "States of Flux" that had cool pop art by Andy Warhol, some Picasso and Matisse, some AMAZING photograph collections, and other dope stuff.

We then continued our trek along the South Bank of the Thames and saw all the huge historic buildings as we made our way towards Parliament and Big Ben! THEN we walked over to Leicester Square near Picadilly Circus for LES MISERABLES! I hadn't read the book since 10th grade or something and honestly, who would understand that book when they were 15 years old, so I was little foggy on some of the details but the music was UNREAL (I dreamed a dream anyone? here's lookin at you, Glee!) Despite the fact that I was exhausted and only moderately refreshed from my dinner at "Bella Italia"--a quasi delicious moderately priced Italian restaurant on the same street as the theater (let's be real, the restaurant was chosen because no one could feel their feet and it was about 4 steps away)--I was soooooo impressed by the musical. Except for the dude who played "Marius." he sucked. his vibrato "sounded like a bleating goat" as Becca puts it and she's quite right. It was distracting and goat-like and I really wished he'd stop but alas, main characters tend to sing a lot.

I was so tired when we got back to school that I tried to use my Oyster card (the card I bought for the month to use on the Tube) instead of my school i.d. to swipe in. it did not work.

so now I'm tired. and would like to go to bed. and hopefully with not get chemicals in my mouth. more tomorrow! (we're going to see The Crucible in Regent's Park's theaterrrr!)

missing you all from home. wish I could squeeze every one of you. CK.

and then he came back with 6 shots...

yesterday was generally absurd. i think we woke up around 9:30ish but as jetlag was still kicking my ass and I hadn't fallen asleep until after 3 again the night before, I promptly shoved several bowls of cheerios in my mouth and pretended to read my summer reading until I passed out in the sunshine on Liz's lawnchair for an hour. I then became overheated and demanded to be moved into her living room where I read 3 more pages and slept until 12:30. there IS a solution to this madness and it's called going to sleep earlier but since that didn't happen until last night, and even then not before 1:30, I have been that annoying sleepy friend who, much like a baby, can't function properly without naps. or in this case comas. sorry, Liz.

we then went on a trip into town to get groceries for dinner! it was very exciting. since, as Elizabeth correctly pointed out, all things English seem "cuter and smarter" to Americans, I was loving everything at this grocery store (called Waitrose), including containers for soup, salad dressing, and bottles of soda. we successfully got everything we needed and returned home for lunch and more napping. then when her mom came home--from the 6-7 mile hike that Liz and I said we were going to do but then reneged on when she woke us up at 8:45am--she said she needed to go back into town. to the grocery store. but obviously I was so eager to see more cute food items that I jumped at the opportunity. but then when we got home again and started making the world's most delectable dinner ever (Gaspatcho soup, corn and tomato salad, and potato latkes, with Pim's to drink), we realized we needed MORE THINGS! back to Waitrose!! "Liz do you have the list?" "Yeah!" 5 minutes later..."Liz do you have the list?" "I do." Pulling into Waitrose. "Liz can I have the list?" Searching of pockets...more frantically now...we're pulling off the seatbelt to lift up our butts...getting out of the car to search better for what is clearly not there...No list. bummer. made the trip 30 seconds longer than it would have been with the list but Liz felt bad. good thing she rebounds quickly.

dinner was the most incredible meal ever. I couldn't believe we had made it all! we ate outside because it was such a nice night and when Mama B got really really antsy and couldn't sit still any longer Liz and I got ready to go out with her bffs!!

Sabrina picked us up from Liz's house because we wanted to carpool if people were drinking. She was beautiful and I quickly adored her. so tiny, and has the most precious laugh you've ever heard. They had their doorway reunion (and I got a hug too!) and then Mama came in to say hello and then said "So we're cool with drinking and driving?" to which Sabrina responded "uhhh, well no, I'm not cool with it. but...uhh..." Pretty sure Mom meant "we're cool with rides so that no one will be drinking and driving" but she'd had a long day. just an fyi: NO ONE is "cool" with it.

So we pranced back over the The Running Mare pub from a few nights earlier (which as you might recall had been filled with kids from Liz's high school). Since last night was a Friday, there was a different crowd. older one might say. a little less tame. we took our drinks outside to wait for the 4th member of our party, Jackie, as known as the funniest girl I've ever met. maybe it was the accent, maybe it was the British humour, or maybe she really is the funniest girl who ever lived, but I loved her. The Liz, Sabrina, Jackie Combo is a deadly one. best company of all time. once it got really cool outside and I started getting eaten alive but the mosquitos I didn't think lived in the UK (typical), we moved inside to a table by the bar. Everything was pretty standard until around 11:15 when "Max" showed up. he waltzed right up to our table, sat at a chair a few feet away and just stared. the four of us exchanged suspicious glances. "I'm FUCKed!" says Max. "I mean. not SO fucked that I can't converse, you know. But like, I've had a reasonable amount to drink tonight." ugh. We (mostly Liz and Jackie) humoured him for about 8 minutes until he started getting grumpy--he'd make the next asinine comment and we'd all laugh at him. He started getting really self-conscious and whenever one of us wasn't facing him he'd go "WUH AW YOU SAYING? WHY AW YOU LOFFING?" he'd make half-hearted attempts to get up and go because he thought we hated him (we did) and then he'd stop two steps away and come back and sit down, this time in a stool closer to our table, and continue to babble. go away, Max.

then it got better. Max's dad was also at the bar and was "more FUCKed than he was." max waived over papa bear. "Wuh aw you foive buhds (birds) doing heh?" There were 4 of us girls so I'm assuming he was trying to make a joke and include his son as a bird (a woman).

ha.

ha.

Max had moved into the booth next to Jackie and Sabrina. no touching, Max. but dad was funny, when I could understand him through the drunk and his accent. but then he found out I was American. we had a brief one-sided conversation where he told me that I was only self-conscious about being American because I was American. that being fairly obvious to me, I said mostly nothing. then he asked me "whereabouts the US? Michigan?" Virginia. "OHHHHH VUHGEENIUHHH." yes. (then saw my nose ring.) "is that a real little ring there, in your nose? like a real little...what have you." yes. "well, that's not very Michigan!" Virginia. "that's not very Virginia. you little radical." uh, right. he then badgered me for about 4 minutes what I would like to drink. at this point it is 11:40 and the bar had booted us around 11:30 last time so I didn't think I should have another drink just to have to leave (also I did not care for a drink, least not from mr. laughs over here). I settled with "I have no preference and I think we're leaving soon." dad disappears....

Liz: Omg Chelsea. you're gonna die when you see this.

Through the reflection in the glass I can see that dad is carrying a tray. What can that mean!?!?

He sets it down on the table and it contains 6 shots of a bright green liquid. absinthe? no. Green Sours, shots that "taste like Stahburst. only appley." if you have ever met me, you will know that I do not consume alcohol in the form of a shot. it simply is not so and has not been so for several years. I am averse to the idea so much so that few members of the SAM fraternity at UVA respect me fully and pressure me fully. and yet, I haven't let it happen.

last night. it happened. lucky for me, the shots really did taste like apple starbursts (self-determined through a sniff and a small sip). lucky for me because I truly believe that if I hadn't taken it Max and his dad would have screamed at me or something and who really wants to deal with a drunk and angry Englishman and his socially adept son on their first Friday abroad? not me. i took the shot, got a "nice lips" from the dad (ew), and moments later something offended Max and he finally did storm away. peace, sucka. apparently dad was done making comments about my lips and on to promoting his son because he spent the next 5 minutes jabbering on in drunk about his son's chef job (I'm pretty sure he serves food at a University dining hall) and the languages he speaks (4 supposedly, but that seems doubtful). I told him I didn't really care what languages his son spoke because the kid was too cranky. "Want me to get him back for you?" no. I don't want you to do that. "I'll go get him back for you." time to go. we get the quick advice to "LEG IT!" from a partially concerned citizen sitting at the bar who must have observed the awkward last half hour and we sprinted out a back door to the car. we hid inside it with the lights off (because we were waiting for Jackie's mom) and were all very quiet and very fearful to be discovered. then a boy dressed much like Max (it was Max) sprinted into the bushes right near our car. creepy!? trying to find us!? no. trying to pee in the bushes. only facing the parking lot instead of the shrubbery. definitely creepy.

the night ended, again, with Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. with a hint of sour apple.

you just used three british expressions in that explanation...

it's started. my incessant love for mimicking all the sounds around me has already resulted in me beginning to converse using British expressions. what a champ. me:London::peanut butter:jelly.

but wait. that was only a few hours ago. and i've been naughty. it only took me one day to crap out on my fancy new blog. lucky for you 2 busy days = plenty to share. so let's rewind.

yesterday was my first real day here and elizabeth allowed me to sleep until 11:30am. i am ashamed. but i needed it? i was up until 2:30 england time writing to you kids, too amped up on airplane drinks and blog fever to sleep. liz's mom bought us sandwiches (veggie because she respects my decision to care for the earth's creatures) and we powered through them and approximately 11,000 grapes in the 22 degree weather. yes. that's right. you heard me, 22 degrees. Celsius. because that's how we roll here. (22 Celsius is about 75 degrees Fahrenheit. crazy warm for England.)

during the day I got to see the lovely little town that is Cobham, where Liz lives, and then we went to Shere. apparently this is where the movie "The Holiday" was filmed but since I neither appreciate nor support the careers of Jack Black or Cameron Diaz, and even sometimes speak blasphemously of Jude Law, I refused to let their associations with the town spoil my day.

This is honestly one of the cutest towns you've ever seen. Every house and shop looks like a gingerbread house, only the kind that's too adorable to eat.

not only is this a magical town but it's also home to a creek and lots of fields, so we went for a walk where I met lambs and horses and stinging nettles, and got to see beautiful flowers and creepy trees! we went on a lovely little nature walk before cooling off at The Lucky Duck.

There are some things you should know before you ever enter The Lucky Duck. for starters, be aware that some people are extremely comfortable with overemphasizing their shop's theme. In this instance, it is guaranteed that you will be suffocated by all things duck-like including but not limited to: ducks on wallpaper, paintings of ducks, paintings of ducks on the wall, miscellaneous wall duck fixtures, duck menu images, stuffed ducks (let your mind imagine what I mean here), carved wooden ducks, paper mache ducks, ceiling hangings of ducks, and duck references in the shop's sign-age. Sounds adorable? not adorable. way too much. also Elizabeth asked the waitress for a "refreshing tea" to which she given the response "ehhhh......wuhh?" she had no clue what we meant. so we (I) wisely chose orange and we skidaddled before I could consume any of the pound cake.

being in such an adorable place really tuckered us out so we enjoyed a little break with the "tele" (t.v.) which included Modern Family and some Glee that I missed. MF is the bomb. Glee is actually kind of ridiculous, but I'll watch it until a crucial character leaves the show, their counterpart falls to pieces, someone gets cancer, another person dies, and seven new characters are introduced. hate you too, Grey's Anatomy.

after I accidentally fell asleep for half an hour liz woke me up and we went to The Mare, her favorite pub in town where she confidently proclaimed that she would "either know everyone at this bar or no one." cocky lady. She knew everyone. liked few. the kids there were in a grade below her and she hadn't kept in touch with any of them. One conversation went a little something like this: "Oh, hey, Liz." "HEYYY!! how are you!?" "Pretty good, and you?" "GOOD! good. When did you get back!?!?" "Uh... I never left..." (Silence.) coooooooooooooooool.

then 2 of her friends from hs rolled up and we became best friends and the night ended in literal darkness when the bar turned off the electricity and we were unceremoniously removed.

Today we went to Brighton Beach on the coast. "Beach" is deceiving. True, we were on the edge of a body of water, but I sat on a rock the size of my miniature schnauzer and whenever you breathed all the disgustingly dirty rocks made crinkle sounds. ew. thank god for hand sanitizer. on your legs. it was actually a good time though. it was like 78 degrees and everyone (who didn't have work/school--aka hoodrats) was on the beach (rockbed)--I can make your bed rock?

There were 2 piers, one of which burned down 50 years ago and was rusting in the water, and another which we walked on. We got a "box of chips" also known as french fries and a large (which means small anywhere except obesity capital America). there were ice cream shops ever 6 steps (until we decided we wanted ice cream and then there were none) and lots of arcade games. looked a lot like an east coach beach towns only with attractive British people instead of inbred townies. after getting lost in the parking lot for 30 minutes we headed back to Cobham. i fell asleep DJ-ing my iPod. not cool.

you might be saying: woah, Chels! what a day. you drove an hour and half each way to a crazy fun beach, laid in the sunshine, stuffed your face with french fries, and took a snooze to fleetwood mac! busy busy bee. but wait. there's more.

tonight i made my first venture into London. Elizabeth's "mum" sings in the London Symphony Choir, and we went to watch their rehearsal. there are no words for how amazing these 80ish men and women sound. they blew me away. i was tearing up in the back of the church, clutching their sheet music in my hand. any opportunity you have to see these people perform would be time well spent. DO it.

liz and i bopped over to an italian restaurant for some zza and balls of dough known formally as "dough balls". one small taste of an entire clove of garlic posing itself as "garlic butter" and 4 glasses of wine later, liz and I were quite chatty and I quickly learned that the word "fanny" is not, in fact, a cute Disneyish way of referring to your butt, but actually, in England, means "the C word" and to never use it, ever. It's rated R and not good for dinner conversation. i probably shouldn't even have repeated this story the word is so "nosty."

we split up with her mum after dinner and went over to Southbank where we got drinks at a restaurant called Giraffe. there was no obvious reason why the restaurant was named such. the only outward giraffe expressions were the amateur giraffe drawings on the backs of the waiter's t-shirts. i'm just grateful the owners weren't as enthusiastic as our friends back at The Lucky Duck.

I fell in love for the 47th recorded time since I landed in England 48 hours ago. this time it happened with the Giraffe waiter with the Mohawk. not your standard Mohawk either. one that allows the shorter part of one's hair to grow to the length of the average male's and the long part to extend one foot into the air, held up by gel. or glue. or whatever schmexy mohawked boys use here. doesn't matter.

around 11:15 we got the train back into the 'burbs and sadly i left without Giraffe-boy. I can only hope there will be more...

until tomorrow. or the next day.

you can't make me sleep yet, jetlag.

alright so listen. i've noticed these blogs are getting rather popular and by that I mean I personally know 2 people who write them, the guy who sells my dad's apartment building's son has one, and I saw that movie with Meryl Streep and the sprightly redhead. I'm going to be in Europe for over a month and I am an English major AND we have to keep a diary of our trip anyway, so I figured I'd jump on the bandwagon.

**despite the fact that I'm usually pretty competitive, I'd like to suggest to anyone bored enough to read mine that you also check out my (wannabe) Irish friend Margaret's blog at http://greeceitw.blogspot.com/2010/05/herro-from-athens.html. she may be the funniest person i've ever met/read. it's worth your time.**

this blog could potentially have a lot of good stuff going on. for starters, I arrived in London this evening (afternoon for you blokes back in the States) and will be here for the next 5-ish weeks. and even if all I do is post pictures--can you even do that on here?--it would be pretty 'ill'. to be honest I don't have too many assumptions quite yet. not that i'm one of those people who goes into things with zero expectations and an abysmal outlook so that when moderately cool things happen I can write on someone's facebook wall to brag and call it a day. I just figure whatever is going to happen here is gonna be pretty rad and my predictions will most likely be significantly outdone.

some things i hope will happen:

- meet a british rockstar, mingle, become pen pals, live in sin for 15 years until he meets someone younger, or something similar.

- meet one person who sounds like a "bee-ull". (A Beatle. obviously.)

- get a cool european haircut, up my street cred.

- take a nerdy picture of me at platform 9 and 3/4. (this has been promised to me). if you don't know what I mean, climb out from under that rock and read a book. and start with Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.

- watch a World Cup game at a pub. this will obviously happen. i'm in London. and it's World Cup season. USA USA USA.

- come back to the states with a fake English accent. take over the world.

some things i hope won't happen:

- loss of any items: expensive, sentimental, or otherwise. thievery is neither cute nor tolerated. it's illegal, and seriously awkward, especially if caught. if you take my shit, I will report you to the police and post it on my fun new blog and everyone will know what you did. as a disclaimer to any readers, there is always the potential that I will lose my own things, in which case I will blame it either on a fictitious thief or "that night when I was soooooooo wastedddddd." guess you'll never know.

- the death of my computer. while i realize that the fan is probably broken and that my refusing to turn the damn thing off in its first 3 years of life strong increases the imminence of my lil comp's final days, that would suck.

- excessively hot or excessively cold weather. warm weather is welcome, especially if I get tan, but if it exceeds 90 degrees, I'll be pissed. if it's cold the whole time I'm here, I'll freeze, and bitch at my mom for making me unpack my $20 forever 21 jeans.

- anything that happened in the movie Taken.

some things that have already happened:

- hearing on the over-com at Heathrow that one "Phillip Phillipoo (sp?)" is being summoned at Gate whatever because his flight is about to leave without him. tough life in so many ways, Phil.

- sightings of a double-decker red bus and a black taxi. check and check.

- getting lost for over an hour and a half with Elizabeth because we got rerouted on the highway.

- eating 1/2 of a box of Special K with Almonds during said rerouting

- quickly falling in love with Liz's adorable mom.

- missing my own mom already, just a little.

- you too, dad.

- attempting to write a moderately funny first blog on Liz's laptop. the keys are different than mine. it's taken 4 hours. not goin so well.

so.

I guess I'm just hoping this will be the best trip ever. and I'm jk, Liam Neeson, you're invited! still not quite tired but based on the "fun o meter" of this posting I'm assuming that I'll get about 8 minutes into the book I'm supposed to be reading (because yes, I'm technically here to study abroad) and be bored to sleep.

Miss you already, Virginia! (no I don't. and I probably never will.)