Currently sitting in the library.
One paper due on Thursday for my History of Victorian London class, which I spent the last two days completing. With the exception of my bibliography, its finished. I pretty much kicked its ass Chuck Norris style. I have another paper due on Monday for my Sociology class. However, I have a flight to Dublin on Friday morning, and won't be returning until Monday morning, so working on it this weekend is out of the question. So this morning, I woke up at 8 am (I KNOW) to venture to the library and start paper number 2.
However, thanks to the Venti Caramel Machiatto (with an extra shot) that I purchased on my way here, as well as the incredibly catchy tunes on my iPod, I am in a fantastic mood and feel like blogging instead. (I mean, its a sociology paper about personal identity. I can knock that bitch out in a couple of days, EASY. Not worried).
So like I said, DUBLIN this weekend. I've been wanting to go to Ireland pretty much my entire life. Partly inspired by the fact that i'm pretty sure I'm about 5608970000% Irish, but mainly just because of their accent. Om nom nom. Plus, it will be nice to get away from this CROWDED city for a weekend, and hang out with my best friends again. Well, a few of them anyway.
Oh dear Jesus. The Elephant Love Medley form Moulin Rouge just came on. I'm about to burst out into song in the middle of the library.
So last night, Laura and I saw Deathtrap at the Noel Coward theatre, which featured Jonathan Groff.
LOVED LOVED LOVED this play. The script was just so smart, and was fantastically acted. The set was beautiful and so intricately detailed. Oh yeah, AND IT HAD JONATHAN GROFF. We tried to wait for him outside of the stage door, but after waiting for quite a while, he still hadn't come out, and I really had to pee. So Laura and I abandoned our posts and headed for the nearest McDonald's.
Have you ever baked cookies with garlic butter instead of regular butter? Well, as of last night I have. And as you would expect, they're not quite as good as regular cookies. But not terrible.
Things that I miss:
My car
My dogs
Friends and family.
Video games. (Missing some major releases while I'm here, including Fable 3, Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, and Dead Rising 2).
Oh well. I'm kinda having the time of my life here so its ok.
This random, pointless, jumbled post has been brought to you by: Starbucks. (Suprisingly, its cheaper here! Well, until you do the conversion to dollars anyway...)
That is all.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Mom and Dad, you may not want to read this one.
This blog is no longer for your benefit. Its for mine and mine only. So fuck you, and all that jazz.
You know those days when you miss both alarms, and wake up at 9:00am, exactly when your class is supposed to start? And when you curse your very existence, and your stupidity for drinking too much the night before? The days when your roommate says, "Don't you have class?" and your reply is "Fuck you, yes I do"? But you decide you're going to go to class anyway, and you throw on some clothes, stick a little toothpaste in your mouth, run your fingers through your hair and walk out the door, only to realize you don't have your tube card, room key, wallet, or more importantly, your chapstick. You franticly text your freshly made friends, trying to figure out what museum your class is going to today so you can meet them there. You know that as you're walking down the street, even having put no effort into your clothing whatsoever, that you look like a fierce-ass-bitch with your sunglasses and coat. This gives you just a little bit of hope that your day is going to be ok. But you're still drunk from the night before, and desprately trying to get to class. In this moment, you're a terrible college student, and pretty much a fuck-up at life. But its ok. There's a cute boy in your class that you enjoy talking to, even if he is a breeder. And you love art. Maybe still being drunk will make it better? You get to class just as they are leaving for the museum, water bottle in hand, and all of a sudden, this day doesn't seem like its gonna suck so much.
Yeah, today was one of those days.
The boys were not loud. They did not misbehave. They payed attention, and raised their hands politely. They were everything that a teacher could have asked for.
But as I looked at them looking at Van Gogh, I had to wonder. What was the real story behind them? Who had a lot of friends? Who was the loner? Who had family issues? Who's parents were struggling to pay for their school? Who would grow up to be successful? Who was going to become an addict? Who was going to turn out gay or straight? What were their secrets?
Maybe it was because I was still drunk, but staring at them staring at the painting, and listening to their teacher talk to them like he really cared, I wanted to know more.
For me, they were the art. Not the painting.
As I was walking home I remembered that I was going to see one of my favorite musical artists with one of my best friends tonight, and I realized that today was one of those days. When the people in front of me were walking too slowly, I didn't hate them.
I just walked. And smiled. And looked like a fierce-ass-bitch.
You know those days when you miss both alarms, and wake up at 9:00am, exactly when your class is supposed to start? And when you curse your very existence, and your stupidity for drinking too much the night before? The days when your roommate says, "Don't you have class?" and your reply is "Fuck you, yes I do"? But you decide you're going to go to class anyway, and you throw on some clothes, stick a little toothpaste in your mouth, run your fingers through your hair and walk out the door, only to realize you don't have your tube card, room key, wallet, or more importantly, your chapstick. You franticly text your freshly made friends, trying to figure out what museum your class is going to today so you can meet them there. You know that as you're walking down the street, even having put no effort into your clothing whatsoever, that you look like a fierce-ass-bitch with your sunglasses and coat. This gives you just a little bit of hope that your day is going to be ok. But you're still drunk from the night before, and desprately trying to get to class. In this moment, you're a terrible college student, and pretty much a fuck-up at life. But its ok. There's a cute boy in your class that you enjoy talking to, even if he is a breeder. And you love art. Maybe still being drunk will make it better? You get to class just as they are leaving for the museum, water bottle in hand, and all of a sudden, this day doesn't seem like its gonna suck so much.
Yeah, today was one of those days.
But as I looked at them looking at Van Gogh, I had to wonder. What was the real story behind them? Who had a lot of friends? Who was the loner? Who had family issues? Who's parents were struggling to pay for their school? Who would grow up to be successful? Who was going to become an addict? Who was going to turn out gay or straight? What were their secrets?
Maybe it was because I was still drunk, but staring at them staring at the painting, and listening to their teacher talk to them like he really cared, I wanted to know more.
For me, they were the art. Not the painting.
As I was walking home I remembered that I was going to see one of my favorite musical artists with one of my best friends tonight, and I realized that today was one of those days. When the people in front of me were walking too slowly, I didn't hate them.
I just walked. And smiled. And looked like a fierce-ass-bitch.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Love. And Paris.
Lets talk about this.
Love.
Is it possible, that you can feel love, without actually having to receive it from another person? There are all different kinds of love: Romantic love, platonic love, self love, love for a thing. I mean, i think when we say we love a movie, it means something slightly different than when we say "I love you" to your best friend, which means something different than when we say "I love you" to a lover.
But is it possible to feel love, when you are all alone, walking down the street maybe? Or sitting at a cafe reading a book?
Lately, I've had this overwhelming feeling that my life is as close to perfect as it can get. I have beautiful friends who would do anything for me, and vice versa. I have a family that supports me in everything that I do. And I am in a city halfway across the world and having the time of my life, seeing shows, meeting people, and doing things that, at points in my life, I have thought would never be possible.
A week or so back, I was walking down the street, and "With A Little Help From My Friends" (The Across the Universe version) came on my iPod. I smiled. I wanted to skip. I wanted to sing in the middle of the street. I got this overwhelming feeling, and the only way I could describe it.... was love. I don't know how else to put it into words but complete, pure love for that song, for that moment, and for my life.
And I LOVE Paris.
Last weekend, was probably one of, if not THE best weekend of my life. Looking back on it, it kinda feels like a dream. There were points when the four of us (Myself, Laura, Annie, and Andrew) were tired and hungry. Our feet hurt, our brains hurt from trying to figure out where we were and where we were going. We couldn't figure out how to get out of the Louvre. But even in those worst moments, we were all still incredibly happy, and felt so blessed to be in that city with the best company anyone can ask for.
Our adventure started around 4am, when Laura and I had to catch the night bus to the train station, and catch our 5:25am train to Paris. We arrived in Paris with no problem, found our hostel, located Annie and Andrew, and we were off!
After a good lunch, we began by wondering aimlessly. Good choice. We found Notre Dame, which was incredibly massive, and amazingly beautiful. The Gothic architecture was very different than anything we had seen thus far in England, and it was so humbling to be in a place that was so old, and so beautiful. We left Notre Dame to find Luxembourg Gardens, and then the Louvre.
The Louvre is massive. It is incredible. It was cheap. It was beautiful. And it was really fucking hard to find your way around! We got lost. Literally.
You know how when you get really tired, everything is kinda funny to you? And when you're entire group is tired and in the same state of mind, its even funnier? Yeah. That was us. In the Louvre.
The next day we went to a cemetery and saw the graves of Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde, Moliere, and a few others. Please check my facebook for pictures, because it really was an incredible sight.
From here, we made our way to the Arc de Triomphe, which again, was MASSIVE, and surrounded by a traffic circle that had no lane markers. And then, my favorite part of the trip.
From the Arc de Triomphe, we could see the Eiffel Tower, so we headed that way. On the way, we found an open air market, filled with tables that were selling fresh fruits and veggies, meats, cheeses, wine, handmade goods, and other random things. So we bought some grapes, some raspberries, a block of cheese, and a bottle of wine, and continued to the Eiffel Tower. We bought a few sandwiches once there, made a spot for ourselves under a tree, and had a picnic.
Best Part: We didn't have a wine opener. So here we are, trying to figure out how to get the damn cork out, trying to push it through, using keys as a corkscrew, but to no avail. Thankfully, a man selling wine and champagne comes around and offers some assistance. After finally pushing the cork through, our picnic was complete.
We all agreed: We could have sat there four hours. We were all happy, and without a care in the world. We fed the birds our leftovers, and swapped stories about our respective cities. We had the times of our lives.
We actually did go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, and later that night we had drinks across the street from the Moulin Rouge. And the next morning, before saying goodbye to one another, we completed our trip with a breakfast of nutella crepes.
This, my friends, is Love.
Love.
Is it possible, that you can feel love, without actually having to receive it from another person? There are all different kinds of love: Romantic love, platonic love, self love, love for a thing. I mean, i think when we say we love a movie, it means something slightly different than when we say "I love you" to your best friend, which means something different than when we say "I love you" to a lover.
But is it possible to feel love, when you are all alone, walking down the street maybe? Or sitting at a cafe reading a book?
Lately, I've had this overwhelming feeling that my life is as close to perfect as it can get. I have beautiful friends who would do anything for me, and vice versa. I have a family that supports me in everything that I do. And I am in a city halfway across the world and having the time of my life, seeing shows, meeting people, and doing things that, at points in my life, I have thought would never be possible.
A week or so back, I was walking down the street, and "With A Little Help From My Friends" (The Across the Universe version) came on my iPod. I smiled. I wanted to skip. I wanted to sing in the middle of the street. I got this overwhelming feeling, and the only way I could describe it.... was love. I don't know how else to put it into words but complete, pure love for that song, for that moment, and for my life.
And I LOVE Paris.
Last weekend, was probably one of, if not THE best weekend of my life. Looking back on it, it kinda feels like a dream. There were points when the four of us (Myself, Laura, Annie, and Andrew) were tired and hungry. Our feet hurt, our brains hurt from trying to figure out where we were and where we were going. We couldn't figure out how to get out of the Louvre. But even in those worst moments, we were all still incredibly happy, and felt so blessed to be in that city with the best company anyone can ask for.
Our adventure started around 4am, when Laura and I had to catch the night bus to the train station, and catch our 5:25am train to Paris. We arrived in Paris with no problem, found our hostel, located Annie and Andrew, and we were off!
After a good lunch, we began by wondering aimlessly. Good choice. We found Notre Dame, which was incredibly massive, and amazingly beautiful. The Gothic architecture was very different than anything we had seen thus far in England, and it was so humbling to be in a place that was so old, and so beautiful. We left Notre Dame to find Luxembourg Gardens, and then the Louvre.
The Louvre is massive. It is incredible. It was cheap. It was beautiful. And it was really fucking hard to find your way around! We got lost. Literally.
You know how when you get really tired, everything is kinda funny to you? And when you're entire group is tired and in the same state of mind, its even funnier? Yeah. That was us. In the Louvre.
"We'd had enough. The walking had to stop."
The next day we went to a cemetery and saw the graves of Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde, Moliere, and a few others. Please check my facebook for pictures, because it really was an incredible sight.
From here, we made our way to the Arc de Triomphe, which again, was MASSIVE, and surrounded by a traffic circle that had no lane markers. And then, my favorite part of the trip.
From the Arc de Triomphe, we could see the Eiffel Tower, so we headed that way. On the way, we found an open air market, filled with tables that were selling fresh fruits and veggies, meats, cheeses, wine, handmade goods, and other random things. So we bought some grapes, some raspberries, a block of cheese, and a bottle of wine, and continued to the Eiffel Tower. We bought a few sandwiches once there, made a spot for ourselves under a tree, and had a picnic.
Best Part: We didn't have a wine opener. So here we are, trying to figure out how to get the damn cork out, trying to push it through, using keys as a corkscrew, but to no avail. Thankfully, a man selling wine and champagne comes around and offers some assistance. After finally pushing the cork through, our picnic was complete.
We all agreed: We could have sat there four hours. We were all happy, and without a care in the world. We fed the birds our leftovers, and swapped stories about our respective cities. We had the times of our lives.
We actually did go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, and later that night we had drinks across the street from the Moulin Rouge. And the next morning, before saying goodbye to one another, we completed our trip with a breakfast of nutella crepes.
This, my friends, is Love.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Hey Remember That Time (like the Regina Spektor song!)
Remember that one time that I was seeing Henry IV Part I at Shakespeare's globe, and I was in the standing area where there is no roof, and it rained the entire time? Yeah.... not fun.
That's the first time I've ever left a show at intermission, and I felt awful about it, but without a raincoat or umbrella it was starting to suck. Plus, I had read the script before so I knew what was going to happen, and the tickets were only 5 pounds.
All that aside though, the show itself was pretty good! Falstaff was hysterical and prince Hal was really good too! Hotspur.... Hotspur kept doing these weird pelvic thrust motions and looked like a bad Jake Gyllenhall rip off...
Remember that other time that Laura and I got free tickets to a show (paid for by the Government in a program to get underprivileged youth, or in this case poor college students, into the theatre. THANKS!), were seated in the very front row, and BAM! NAKED PEOPLE!!!
The show was called The Big Fellah, and was all about an Irish guy in NY in the 70's and 80's working for the IRA and the FBI at the same time. Really good show minus one or two of the actors. And did I mention there were naked people?
Now, we have had the discussion about appropriate and inappropriate nudity on stage, and I feel as if this was inappropriate. Presumably, the couple had just had sex, and were on the couch together when the scene started. So, them being naked (or more precisely with their undies around their ankles) was genuine and realistic. However, if would have also been realistic, and far less distracting, if they just had their underwear on like they just slipped it back on real quick. Eh, whatever. I won't complain. :)
Lets see... what else...
Today, in my Art and Society class, we went to St. Paul's cathedral (you know, the big one) which was astounding all by itself, but we also climbed to the top! Lots of stairs. Lots and lots of stairs. But once up there the view was amazing, and just being in a building that has so much history was so humbling.
Nerd alert (Scott, I'm looking at you here): The whole time I was there, I felt like I was playing Assassin's Creed. More specifically, Assassin's Creed II. Especially when we got to the top. :D
Once Facebook stops being dumb, photos will be posted there.
Tube strikes are dumb. On monday, the Tube workers went on strike, so the ENTIRE CITY was forced to use other means of transportation. AKA: Buses. It took forever to get anywhere because traffic was so bad, and trying to cram all of London onto a few double decker buses is ridiculous. Tube workers, I appreciate you. I can't pay you any more than I already do, but please know that I appreciate you and would love it if you didn't go on strike again while I'm here. Kthanks.
This weekend is PARIS. Train leaves at 5:45am, which I am NOT excited about, but we're still going to PARIS. And I get to see Annie and Andrew, which is totes awesome.
Peace and Blessings, peace and blessings.
That's the first time I've ever left a show at intermission, and I felt awful about it, but without a raincoat or umbrella it was starting to suck. Plus, I had read the script before so I knew what was going to happen, and the tickets were only 5 pounds.
All that aside though, the show itself was pretty good! Falstaff was hysterical and prince Hal was really good too! Hotspur.... Hotspur kept doing these weird pelvic thrust motions and looked like a bad Jake Gyllenhall rip off...
Shakespeare's Globe. In the middle where all the people are is where I stood... In the rain.
Remember that other time that Laura and I got free tickets to a show (paid for by the Government in a program to get underprivileged youth, or in this case poor college students, into the theatre. THANKS!), were seated in the very front row, and BAM! NAKED PEOPLE!!!
The show was called The Big Fellah, and was all about an Irish guy in NY in the 70's and 80's working for the IRA and the FBI at the same time. Really good show minus one or two of the actors. And did I mention there were naked people?
Now, we have had the discussion about appropriate and inappropriate nudity on stage, and I feel as if this was inappropriate. Presumably, the couple had just had sex, and were on the couch together when the scene started. So, them being naked (or more precisely with their undies around their ankles) was genuine and realistic. However, if would have also been realistic, and far less distracting, if they just had their underwear on like they just slipped it back on real quick. Eh, whatever. I won't complain. :)
Lets see... what else...
Today, in my Art and Society class, we went to St. Paul's cathedral (you know, the big one) which was astounding all by itself, but we also climbed to the top! Lots of stairs. Lots and lots of stairs. But once up there the view was amazing, and just being in a building that has so much history was so humbling.
Nerd alert (Scott, I'm looking at you here): The whole time I was there, I felt like I was playing Assassin's Creed. More specifically, Assassin's Creed II. Especially when we got to the top. :D
Yeah, we climbed that. :)
Once Facebook stops being dumb, photos will be posted there.
Tube strikes are dumb. On monday, the Tube workers went on strike, so the ENTIRE CITY was forced to use other means of transportation. AKA: Buses. It took forever to get anywhere because traffic was so bad, and trying to cram all of London onto a few double decker buses is ridiculous. Tube workers, I appreciate you. I can't pay you any more than I already do, but please know that I appreciate you and would love it if you didn't go on strike again while I'm here. Kthanks.
This weekend is PARIS. Train leaves at 5:45am, which I am NOT excited about, but we're still going to PARIS. And I get to see Annie and Andrew, which is totes awesome.
Peace and Blessings, peace and blessings.
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