Coming soon...

So after having spent a good 30 minutes writing an amazing description of my trip to York, I managed to push a button and it all disappeared. Since then I haven't had the heart, or time, to try again. Tomorrow however my flatmate leaves for the weekend and I will have the internet all to myself for the entire time, so expect greatness to come over the next few days... or at least verboseness.

Waterfalls in Wenselydale 

Feasting in a castle: (from left to right) me,
Whitney, Camille, Autumn, Richard and Ryan.

At the waterfalls in Wensleydale 

Ofoto

Just spent about 2 hours going through photos and putting them in an online album. Therefore, my blog will consist of one bit of advice:
Go look at the pictures.

After the weekend, when I'm refreshed from the Yorkshire country air, I'll write an extensive blog to make up for the slackness of tonight.


English lesson for the day - "can't be bothered" basically means "I'm too lazy/not interested", it's one of my flatmate's favorite sayings. I.e. I can't be bothered to write a proper blog tonight.

My home for a week, Hyde Park Hostel (bottom bunk was mine). 

The London Eye, a.k.a. Millenium Wheel, a.k.a. Gigantic ferris wheel thing, on the south bank of the Thames. 

Packed and ready. Leaving Mike and Stacy's apartment. 

Internet at home

I finally have internet at home. Ahh... so nice. I really have nothing much new to say. My life is fairly boring since I got a job and flat. I still like my job, it's a bit hectic now and again but in a good way. Alastair spent this weekend painting his room, it's now all white with the frame around his bay window painted red. It's a cool eye-catching effect. Soon he'll be putting up prints and other things on his walls to help spice up the room. It's funny how quickly things can become habit. Alastair and I have a nice routine in the morning where whoever is up first, usually him, will put on the tea kettle and make coffee in the french press. We eat breakfast (he has a strange habit of combining several types of cereal in one go, but then again I guess I'm weird too for not using milk) and listen to public radio (which I think may be part of BBC, seems like all media here is somehow connected with them). Then we leave at our respective times and go to work. I have memorized pretty well the street that I walk down to get to the college and have been buying fruit and even a Boston fern from a little kiosk on the corner. Then we return home. Usually I make it here first and get to watch some tv in Alastair's room before he gets in, I have the "early bird" dinner at about 6:30-7pm and Alastair eats eventually around 9pm. He reads every newspaper he can get a hold of, which in London means a lot of newspapers. I read bits from one or more of the several books I've bought here (all for 3 pounds of less) and then time for bed and get ready to start again tomorrow. There you have it, my life in a nutshell. ("Help, I'm in a nutshell. How did I get in this nutshell?" -Austin Powers)

I will be going on a trip with Bunac this weekend to stay in a medieval castle near York. Apparently we'll also be going to Sherwood Forest, where Robin Hood had his 'hood. (Ha ha... terrible joke) I'll be leaving late Friday night and returning Sunday night, so no worries if you don't hear from me for a while. I'll be dressing in 16th century costume and running around the north of England. Wait.... maybe you should worry about me. Well, now that I have my computer up and running I think I'll find some photos to add to the blog.

All the small things

Have you ever noticed that it's the little things in life that make all the difference. I've found that every day living here has taught me something new (and usually exciting - see previous "bus ride" post). Allow me to take a moment and list of few of the little things that make me chuckle, ponder, cringe and all out remember why I came to England in the first place. (Consider it my Top 10 list - 8 at least)

• When people say "goodbye" on the phone, their voice rises interminably higher than the entirety of the phone conversation, possibly being the only polite bit about the whole call.
• How every sink has two taps, for hot and cold, and when it says hot they mean it!
• How when you've just finished scalding your hands with the hot tap, and go to use the hand dryers, you're blown back by the sheer force of the air coming from them.
• Passing by rather shabby looking fellows who will randomly yell at someone beside them that is apparently only visible to themselves.
• Watching my more druken neighbors stumble about trying to get off the tube.
• Noticing my own vocabulary evolving to help myself be understood, i.e. use of "lieu" rather than bathroom (which is literally a room with a bath tub here) or the more vulgar sounding (for Americans) toilets.
• Being asked by my South African colleague if my parents are farmers in Colorado (the most interesting stereotype I've come accross here.
• Being told by an Indian shop owner that I am a pretty girl, but I shouldn't gain any more weight or I'd become ugly.

Now I'll end with the English lesson of the day: a "lie-in" = to sleep in; and a DIY shop = Do It Yourself store (like Home Depot)

Central St. Martin's

I'm finishing up my first week of full time work again and it's been great to be back in the game. I feel quite at home in my new job. The people I work with are fun and interesting. My boss is from France and she has a cute little accent. I work with one guy from South Africa, he's Afrikaans and will occasionally (meaning often) answer his cell phone and speak his native tongue, which is apparently a mix of Dutch, German and French. How much more messed up could you get for a language? (j/k, I love all languages) There is another girl from London working temporarily, she's a free lance photographer and quite nice. I picked up some fun words for the English lesson of the day from her.

The work itself is not terribly difficult, just a lot of it. Basically if you take all the inquiries that DU admissions (on both sides) get and process them, that is what this one office does. My boss also heads the Marketing department, which consists solely of herself... so she's quite busy. It's crazy how antiquated this place is, considering they are still using FileMaker Pro 6.O for their database and one of the computers I've seen still uses Microsoft Office 1997! (Gasp! from the computer geeks, such as myself.) Beyond that it's really fun to watch all the hoity toity art students milling about. The fashion students are the greatest, because they always look like they are walking down a Milan or Parisian runway, crazy encoutrements included.

The other interesting/down right weird thing about this place is the seemingly total lack of "customer service" or even "professionalism". I put those phrases in quotations not to suggest that no such things exist but that perhaps I'm seeing the British version of each and interpreting them with my American eyes as deficiencies. For instance, the South African guy, who is normally quite cheery and polite to me and the other girl, will upon answering the phone become outwardly distraught, like it's a trouble for him to pick up the telephone and answer the questions of the general public (as is his job description I imagine.) He sighs, rolls his eyes, gives out our email address in such a tone that denotes the offensive caller should've already known it and not bothered to call us. Disclaimer: Do not think that I'm demeaning my co-workers or their manners. Again this seems to be a trend across the board that no one is "polite" and "friendly" as in the American sense. At least as far as my observations have taken me. There are of course other little "quirks" such as this, but for now I better get going, I'm running out of time, yet again.

Newsflash ---- (not really, I've already known) ---- Newsflash for you:
I'll be getting DSL internet next Monday, once BT comes over and sets everything up, so the blogging and emailing should becoming a regular (and probably cheaper) habit starting next week. I'm so exited! One more step away from my highly technologicalized life. (I'll be copywriting technologicalized by the way, right after Trump gets "Fired!", so hands off!) Now the last thing is getting cable television, which Alastair and I will be doing - him for the sports channels, me for... sorry... Scifi - so that'll be a very exciting and fulfulling time, but it'll have to wait until we both get paid.

JOB!! (and the joys of public transportation)

I got a job!!! I had an interview this morning with Isabelle at Central St. Martin's College of Art and Design, a part of the greater University of the Arts London. They specialize in fine art, creative expression of all sorts from theater, graphic design and are most known for their fashion program. Apparently many prestigious designers have gone through their school. (I'll have to brush up my knowledge of the fashion world for sure now.) Anyways, I'll be working in the Information Office, basically the front desk for student inquiries. I'll be doing very much the same thing as I did at DU, so it shouldn't be hard to get into the swing of things fairly quickly. The best part is the money.. which will be enough to pay for rent (always a good thing) and I should have enough to save up and travel a bit. They want me until the end of February, when my visa expires. Another cool bit is that it's just up the street from Alastair's job, so we can maybe commute together, unless we have our fill of each other at home that is.

Now.. on to bigger (well funnier) events. Ahhh, don't you just love public transportation? -- No really, do you love it? -- For me it's more of a love/hate relationship, especially when you are rather unceremoniously dropped off in a very different part of town than what you intended or expected. Let me tell you of my latest fun bus experience. The other day, I was a bit down after traipsing all around the city and still no farther on securing a job, so I decided to go to IKEA and get some things for the flat. (I know, brilliant plan to go spend money when you're unemployed, but give me a break it was supposed to be shop-therapy.) So I walked to the nearest bus stop which is conveniently close to my flat and wait for the number 102 bus towards Brent Cross (where the mall and subsequent bus change is). I must break here to explain a funny thing about the bus system that no one here was kind enough to explain to me. First, it would be a good thing to know that there are two types of bus stops. One is the usual bus stop, where you are assured a bus will pull over to the side to let you on. The second one is a "request stop" where once you spot the bus you're looking for you have to put out your hand, like you're calling a cab, so they know to stop for you. The only way to tell these two stops apart is simple (once you know it). The usual stops will have a white sign with a red London transportation symbol, you know the circle with horizontal line through the middle. And the request stops with be opposite, red sign and white symbol. Well my nearest bus stop is a request stop. Luckily as I was beginning to figure out this elaborate system by sheer observation, someone else had called the bus. So I get on and we start to go the same way that Alastair and I went that one day, until we reach this one interchange and the sign pointing to Brent Cross is pointing to turn right and we go straight. At first I thought maybe I'd gotten on another bus that goes a different route but still ends up at the mall. Alas, no. We go a bit farther until finally only three people are left on the upper deck (I must say I do love the double deckers, they really are fun) and then we come to a stop at a bus depot. Again luckily for me, someone else figures out that things have gone astray and this is the last stop for the bus. She jumps off, the other girl and I run after her and we all disembark to wait for another bus. Unfortunately, I was no where recognizable (and in a bit of a dodgy neighborhood). So I cross the street and decide to wait for the same bus (number 102) going in the opposite direction, heading towards Golders Green. I finally get one, at another request stop. This time I stick my hand out to get the bus, having now gotten the hang of the situation and get on with no problem. It takes me right back to where I started and I had spent an hour going around northern London for no particular reason. Consequently, I went home, made dinner, got a glass of wine and didn't stray out of my flat for the rest of the evening.

Sorry this was so long a story, but it needed to be so.