Oxford (or Hogwarts)

Sorry I have been lagging big time on the blogging, life is crazy and time is in short supply lately! Probably a good thing though...
Anyways, I wanted to share my experience in Oxford with you all! Last weekend I met my Yorkian friend Alison in Oxford town after a 3 hour train-hopping excursion from Brighton to explore the town, visit the universities, and yes...get as close to Hogwarts as humanely possible.
Alison and I take Harry Potter fanaticism to an entire new level. She has HP quotes tattooed to her thigh, I can recite the books and movies to you by heart...needless to say this was a very exciting day seeing as Oxford was one of the major locations where the HP movies were shot. We had plans to see as much as  possible while spending as little as possible, hoping to blend in with those pretentious Oxfordians, or whatever necessary.
Our first stop was Christ Church College, one of the oldest Oxford college, home to the Hogwarts dining hall, immense grassy grounds, and just plain history.

So cool, right? It's almost unreal to think that students get up and go to class here on a regular basis, study for finals amongst a background of rolling green hills, and eat where Harry Ron and Hermione drink their pumpkin juice.
We toured the chapel and most of the grounds and were about to head to the famous Dining Hall when we were stopped and told to come back at 4 by an old man. "Excuse me you can't go up there right now...the students are eating." Well sooorrrrryyy, wouldn't want to disturb the young brilliant minds of Christ Church while they enjoy their meal!
So we moved right along and continued to walk until we found the Oxford Botanical Gardens. Now as amazing as this might sound, we quickly realized that these infamous Botanical Gardens are a slight downer during winter...more like a baron wasteland where living things come to die. BUT it was still a pretty cool experience, because these gardens were referenced as fictional sights in the Golden Compass series, as well as the proud owner of the infamous "bench" where Lyra and Will come to sit when they are each back in their respective worlds. I dunno, I didn't read them but Alison was super excited about it!

We walked around the lake, circled the gardens a couple times, and even spent some much needed time in the row of greenhouses that house some tropical plants from all over the world (aka they need to be kept to a tropical climate which we overwhelmingly welcomed in comparison to the bloody freezing rain/snow that was going on outside).
We moved right along to grab a quick lunch, explore famous Taverns, see the city's main square, and admire the collegiate, professional and prestigious vibe that every new location inherently gave off. (Is it ironic that I just misspelled prestigious and had to spell check it....definitely not Oxford material).
Next on the low-key Harry Potter tour was Divinity College, home to the room that was used as the Hogwarts infirmary, but more importantly, BODLEIAN LIBRARY! (One of the most famous and oldest libraries in the world, as well as where the Hogwarts library was filmed...so dam cool). More excited than we had ever been that day, we ran inside to express our Potter mania in one of the most appropriate locations until....we hit the ticket office. 10 POUNDS TO ENTER THE LIBRARY (where you can stay for 20 minutes without taking pictures) and 3 POUNDS TO SEE THE STUPID INFIRMARY ROOM. Talk about popular culture exploitation, much? Seeing as the two of us are poor, struggling college students living in Europe...we just didn't have that kind of money! I even tried to put on my best Oxford face and sneak in as a student, where I was stopped and informed that even Oxford students have to SUBMIT AN APPLICATION 1 week in advance to study in the library!!!! Blasphemy, I prefer good ol' Geisel. So we took 2 stupid pictures in the infirmary and a couple of the outside of the library and bounced. Fight the Man.

At this point, we were slightly disappointed that every attraction cost so much money, and made us feel like dumb American tourists. The last straw was when we went back to the Dining Hall to get our infamous picture, and were SMOTHERED by a group of 100 Spaniards, and a 300-person group of Asian tourists pushing and shoving to get to the front of the room. Not cool, guys. Way to disrespect Dumbeldore and the podium where he gives his welcome speech each year.
After this last effort, we were so pissed that the only thing left to do was disgrace some kind of Oxfordian rule (as politely as possible that is). So we happened upon 2 more colleges that required 2 pound entry fees for visitors and we waltzed right in without paying. Suck it! I knew I could look like a student! So we walked around the grounds, even stepped on the sacred grass that is so manicured and outlawed to human contact, and illegally ventured around carrying books Alison had in her purse to keep us blending in. Suckas.

All in all, despite all of the exploiting disappointments and cheap bastards, we managed to have a pretty great time exploring a pretty great city that inspired Lewes Carroll's Alice and Wonderland, Hogwarts castles and rooms, and Lyra and Will's bench. When I looked around and saw castles towering above me that held everyday college classrooms, and parks and gardens for miles that are common running paths for the locals, I was pretty amazed that people could get so used to this. It was such a beautiful place with some of the richest history and prestige that England can boast, and to have gotten to see as much as I did was pretty rewarding. And even for a second, just a second, did I regret not sending them an application to study there....lucky bastards.

That's all for now! Cheers.
"Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Spoken by Albus Dumbledore.

Turning 21 in Brighton...

was fucking insane. Excuse the profanity but it is surely necessary! Now you might think that Europeans just find 21 to be a stupid age, relevant only to Americans who abuse their ability to drink at 18 while in Europe. But guess what...they love it! At least every person I met during my celebrations was equally excited about it! Here's a little run through of how I spent my 21st...
Thursday night: Made a beautiful fajitas dinner at Rosie's, followed by some equally beautiful tequila shots, cupcakes and candles (thanks guys!) and a never ending game of Catch Phrase. Then onto an amazing bus ride into town where we walked out guess-list butts into Coalition for what turned out to be cheesy 80s/90s music night. AMAZING. Danced the night away, accidentally took another shot of tequila chased with a Strongbow (note to self: never do this again!) and danced some more. A late night kabob and long ass walk home later, it was the best night not to be remembered.

Friday: recovery day. Movie and dinner with friends and in bed early was about all anybody could handle after the night before.
Saturday: an amazing trip to the town next door, Lewes, to explore castles, antique shops, cafes and breweries with Amanda, taking loads of tourist-y pictures and trying to mentally prepare for the night ahead of us.
Saturday night: DJ BOY 8-BIT. OMG. Seriously the best night of my life. Never danced so much and so hard for as long as I can remember. Some of the best spinning I've everrrrr seen! Turned 21 at midnight...aka tequila shots...and spent the rest of the night at Audio, unable to tear ourselves away from the sick beats of Boy 8-Bit and his crew. (Check out my clubbing lingo...fancy, eh?)

Sunday: My actual birthday where everyone was too wrecked from the weekend to celebrate any further. So, what better excuse to spend the ENTIRE DAY in an English pub watching football match after football match? Liverpool v Everton, Tottenham v Man U, Real Madrid, Barcelona...shit got crazy. Some highlights of my first real experience watching football with English and Spanish hooligans...
*The old man who started hysterically crying while singing Liverpool chants as the return of Kenny Dalgish, the Liverpool legend, went down for the first time
*Not being able to find a seat in a huge pub with 2 movie screens projecting the Tottenham game
*All the fans being for Tottenham and not Man U...hell yah.
*English insults being thrown at the players, including "YOU DUTCH WANKA" and "SHOOT THE BALL YOU DOUSEY BASTARD"
*The spanish man who punched the wood table i was sitting at 4 times after Ronaldo hit the crossbar in the last second of stoppage time and started bleeding (aka broke his hand)
*watching a barcelona v real madrid fan brawl break out, etc.
All in all, it was a phenomenal weekend and I wouldn't change a thing. I thought I was gonna seriously miss the moment where you hand your ID to a bouncer in the states and say SUCK IT I can legally drink! But it turns out turning 21 in Europe is kinda a whole lot better....

To the British, how I love thee...

Let me count the ways....
1. The amount you guys talk about the weather. I love it, whenever conversation is dry just mention something about the clouds and you guys will fill the silence for hours.
2. The fact that when I'm dressed in 2 pairs of pants, 6 top layers, gloves, a scarf, a jacket and a hat, you can wear jean shorts and tights with a light sweater and rock it...without freezing to death. Jealous.
3. The way you say "cheers" after absolutely everything.
4. Words like: "brawlie" (umbrella), "Queue" (line), "Toastie" (sandwich), etc etc. The list goes on and on.
5. The fact that I am SUPER PSYCHED about going on a day trip to Bath and Stonehenge to see some of the most historical sites in the world, whether to you that is just the next town over.
6. We take double decker buses everyday. EVERYDAY.
7. Some of the pubs on my pub crawl tonight include: The King and Queen, Shakespeare's Head, and White Rabbit.
8. PINTS OF CIDER. all kinds of it. especially when it is 1 pound 50 on tuesday nights at The Font.

9. English Breakfasts. and English Breakfast Tea. and Cream Tea. OMG SO DELICIOUS
10. How much you love Californians and your fascination with LA. Makes being an American in Europe sooo much easier.
11. Talking footie with you and hating on Robert Green who was voted the number 1 idiot of 2010.
12. The fact that I can explore ancient castles one minute, and be clubbing by the sea the next.
13. Tea Biscuits. fucking amazing
14. Little children with British accents saying "mum" or "mummy".
15. Antique/vintage shopping for you means artifacts from 18th century wars and jewelery from royalty that is part of Queen Elizabeth's lineage. Oh, no bigs.
16. Asking for a shot of tequilla at a club means...a shot of tequilla. That is all. And when you ask for lime and salt, you get stared at blankly...
17. Where I say, "how are you?" you say "you alright?" Extremely uncomfortable at first but it is majorly growing on me (along with the term "I can't be bothered...")
18. Sunny days here mean so much more than they ever have before.
19. Sunday Roast. Deeeelish.
20. Speaking of Sundays, everywhere in the entire country shuts the f*$# DOWN no later than 3 pm. Kinda reminds you that there is more to life outside the hustle and bustle of making money...
21. Hikes like the ones you can do at the Seven Sisters. Beach, cliffs, and grassy rolling hills for days.

 Beachy Head, East Sussex

LET THE SUN SHINE!

The sun is out, the seagulls are chirpin and life is good! Today is the most beautiful day in England thus far, high of 45 (SO WARM!....) No clouds in the sky and predicted sunshine all day! No day like today to go explore the wonderful city that is Brighton...maybe I'll even go to the beach? Say what?! Off to have an English breakfast, for those of you starting your day, enjoy it! And for those of you finishing your night, sleep and dream well! Cherrio chaps.

Hey, I get high on life man...

It's time to talk about my housing situation in detail. I feel like it is pure entertainment for the reader...I'm in struggle city but entertaining nonetheless.
We'll start from the beginning.
So I arrived to Brighton during the midst of an absolute torrential down pour. My 70 pound suitcase dragging behind me, I didn't think I was going to physically make it to my place without drowning or losing some sort of something to the storm. After a train ride, 2 cabs, and quite a long walk, I finally rolled up to 13 Victoria Road. Now from the outside, my home is a 3 story beautiful old white building with a red door amidst a row of similarly beautiful white buildings in a quaint residential neighborhood atop a hill that overlooks the entire city and ocean. Amazing right? Wait till I turned the key...
As I stumbled inside with all my SHIT, completely unaware of what I was going to find, I immediately breathed in and inhaled what seemed like at least 3 rips from a fatty bong. As I coughed at the potent smell of ganja that wafted throughout the walls, I was met by a half asleep British boy who stumbled out of his room, unable to see me through his stoned, half-closed, red and puffy eyes.
"Sorry if I woke you!" I exclaimed.
"Oh noh 'ts alright, I just been havin a bit of trouble gittin owt of bed this mournin..." he responded.
It was 2 pm.
Well if that wasn't a fitting welcome I don't know what is! After stoner boy managed to find his way back to his room, I took a very quick look around, afraid of what kind of encounter might be in store for me next. I'm in room 8 which is at the very top of the stairs, 4 flights of stairs up. After 20 minutes of heaving and dragging my luggage up the stairs (without the help of anyone of course) I opened my room. To my surprise, it's lovely! Huge, fully furnished, and equip with THE BEST VIEW I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. From my window (which reaches across the entire wall) I can see all of downtown Brighton, a huge gothic church, rows of beautiful buildings, and the entire seaside!!! When the clouds cleared the few view was truly phenomenal.
A little relieved that at least my room was bearable, I locked everything up and decided to have a look around. As I walked down the stairs, I met another roommate, girl from Seattle (who's name I've forgotten cause I've seen her just this once time in 2 days...) who gladly welcomed a fellow American.
"Omg you're the only other American! High five!" she exclaimed.
We chatted for a bit and I asked her how she liked living in this fine establishment. Her response? "haha...um...haha...it's been interesting. Good luck to ya!" And off she went.
COMFORTING HUH.
I continued to look around, completely confused as to where all the bathrooms were, where the kitchen was, if there was a laundry room, etc. Completely overwhelmed and anxiety-ridden, I ventured out onto the streets of Brighton to buy some bedding pronto...no way was I sleeping on that mattress without some serious protection. As I walked, unable to find anything and completely lost, I burst into some pretty significant tears when a fellow American walked by and asked if I needed anything. I stammered through my tears...."Bed Bath and Beyond?!?!" She responded patiently and empathetically..."the mall's that way. Look for BandH for bedding. Don't worry, it get's better."
I hope so, stranger. I sure do!
After a long excursion and a treacherous hike back up a completely vertical hill carrying duvet covers and cheap pillows to boot, I hesitantly rentered the house. This time, I came across British stoner boy who seemed to have taken a shower (thank god) and said "sorry bout earlia love, I was a bit high" and walked out. Cool.
Then I met German girl (whose name I also forgot) who reluctantly took me on a tour of the house after I begged and pleaded her to show me around. Turns out I have another 2 floors beneath the street level consisting of bathrooms, kitchen, common area with TV, laundry room, etc. Not too shabby but still pretty dam grimy and disgusting.
Last encounter was with my RA who I share the same top floor with. I knocked on her door to introduce herself - she was also so high that she forgot to hide her bong before she opened the door for me. Role reversal much? Anyways I asked normal questions about bus schedules and stops that are close by (normal stuff to ask ur RA right?), all of which she couldnt handle because yep, you guessed it, she was too high.
So as it stands I haven't met the 5 other roommates who are milling about my house. When I'm home, I stay locked up in my room (which I'm considering to be an apartment more or less), only emerging when my bladder simply can't handle it anymore. Hopefully someone will come out of their room eventually to meet me cause as of now I see dark corridors, locked rooms, and hear nothing but the strumming of the occasional guitar. Who knows where the fuck I am but when shit gets rough I look out my window and remember how much I truly love the ocean.
Cheers mates,

The American in some sort of halfway house for antisocial pot smoking international students.

It's official - I've fallen in love with London. The past couple days spent with my orientation group in London were some of the greatest of my life! I'm sorry this update is late but life was simply to hectic to do my first experience in England justice. The first night at my hotel, I was jet lagged, confused, and reasonably out of it, which is probably what led me to the first funny anecdote I feel I should share. As I was walking back to my room, I heard a strangely familiar/American voice coming from the room next door. Someone was skyping with a friend...a friend who I recognized as my old San Diegan roommate Rosie who is ALSO at Sussex with me this semester! Thinking that this coincidence was just too crazy, I decided to be that creep who knocked just to share the coincidence with her. My first friend in England, Vanessa! After talking about our crazy mutual friends, we decided to spend the next day together roaming around England. When I met her for breakfast the next morning, we overheard another American voice asking the hotel staff for a vegetarian breakfast - had to be another Californian. So we introduced ourselves to our third partner in crime for the day, Alison. The 3 of us grabbed our bags and headed for the streets of London, not knowing where we were or what we were going to see. So we walked...and walked...and kept turning...and walked some more. Suddenly, lo and behold, we practically walked straight into St Paul's Cathedral. Such an overwhelming feeling. Stumbling into an architectural marvel like St Paul's without knowing you're about to see it was one of the most incredible experiences that I was happy to share with me equally excited companions, Vanessa and Alison.

After St Paul's, the 3 of us had this strange feeling that the rest of the day was gonna be just as fantastic. So, deciding to follow our instincts and go where the wind blows, we kept walking.  As we turned the corner down this windy road, the 3 of us looked up at the same time only to see none other than the infamous London skyline - The London Eye, Big Ben, and the Bridge. Overwhelmed with excitement, pride that we happened to be stumbling upon every London monument that means something to anyone, and sheer happiness, we all yelled and basically jogged the rest of the way to cross the bridge.

 Trying to put this moment into words is hard. I know it sounds silly but I was SO EXCITED to have found this part of town that it is truly inexplicable. The 3 of us continued on to see the Parliament building, Westminster Abbey, a random statue of Abraham Lincoln, and then the National Gallery. After stopping for a quick bite (a typical British "jacket and cheese" otherwise known as a baked potato), we felt ambitious enough to brave the National Gallery. Inside for only a few minutes, we quickly realized that is something you don't even attempt unless you have a good 12 hours on your hands, so decided to save it for another day. 

We continued on, absolutely adamant about finishing this wonderful day with some other London highlights. We walked and walked, finally reaching St. James Park and Buckingham Palace. Exhausted, happy, overwhelmed and in awe, we spent some time walking through the park and enjoying the wonder that is the Palace and felt that we had basically covered the entire city of London in one, accidental fail swoop.

To complete the day, we ended with a ride on the Tube back to our hotel, truly feeling that our London extravaganza was a success. But wait! Bet you thought I was super tired and passed out early right...WRONGO! After a quick orientation with fellow EAP students, there was nothing left to do but PUB CRAWL! Our trusty orientation leader Austin brought us to 2 different pubs where I ordered my first legal alcoholic beverage ever! (Bulmers Pear Cider...can you seay delicious?) If this was any taste of English night life...count me in.I fell in love with the city and was so sad to leave today, but am excited to finally be in Brighton! I arrived in the absolute POURING rain with all my baggage, pulled up to my randomly located house in the center of the city, and waltzed on in. 8 other international students have been living here since September and I am the only newcomer, making the whole experience a bit daunting. Positives: my room is HUGE, i have the what I imagine to be the best view in the ENTIRE CITY (pictures soon to come), and I am a 4 minute walk from the center of Brighton, bustling with night life, shops, food, people, and most exciting...the beach! Negatives: my roommates seem to be a group of pot smoking misfits that aren't too keen on social interaction or acknowledging my existence. But, alas, I think it will all work out for the best. Tomorrow I am off to campus to figure out my whole academic life...(oh wait...I am here for school aren't I...hmm...) and then let the festivities begin! I miss you all tons and will try desperately to keep this thing up to date, whether anyone is reading it or not. I at least know I have my 2 trusty followers, Mom and Pops, who as your reading this must remember how much I love them and not to panic! I'm not an alcoholic...yet. Just kidding. Peace and Love.

 (yes I took this picture and no it is not a google image....)

The eagle has landed

I made it! It's 5:30 pm here in London and I arrived a few hours ago. The travel process couldn't have gone any smoother through and through. Starting at LAX with a SUPER helpful Virgin Atlantic employee who changed my seat on the plane to one where I practically had an entire row to myself (right before he slipped his number into my passport before I boarded), to a quick and smooth flight, no luggage problems, and speedy arrival to my hotel. After I dropped off my things in my closet of a room which barely fits me, a bed, and my suitcase, I walked outside to wander a bit and go get something to eat. And wouldn't you believe it...it started to snow. The first time I've ever seen snowfall in my life! What a welcome to this new country and new journey. I must admit I miss home an awful lot. Being in this tiny hotel room, exhausted, jet lagged, and cold is not the easiest thing I've ever done. I keep having flashbacks of yesterday's goodbyes to the fam at the airport - truly the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Missing them so much right now and wish they were here to experience this all with me! I can't wait till you're all here at one point or another. I'm excited for tomorrow - orientation starts and I'll be able to meet some people in my program, see more of London, and ditch this lonely, "where the fuck am I and what am I doing here" feeling. I can't believe how dark it got so early - 3:30 was the last bit of sunlight that peeked through. I'm already beginning to understand that whole seasonal-affect disorder shenanigans. But, enough of the sadness. I think I'll go wander around out there...looks dark and eminent but hey, why else am I here if not to explore the unfamiliar? I miss you all so much and wish each and every one of u were here with me. Can't wait to share my adventures with you. Stay healthy and happy and be in touch!
xoxo, TT