London Hath Need of Thee

     In less than 100 hours, I will be returning to the United States and run straight into the arms my loving family. As much as I've loved this inexplicable feeling of independence and capability, I need my family and to feel their love. It truly has been far too long.
     Yet I can't quite say that I'll be returning home. Because I'm leaving home. Virginia is and will forever be my home, but now London will be too. My heart resides here just as much as it does in the States and I will always have a piece of it drifting and floating about the streets, the pubs, the parks, and the Underground.
     My father suggested that I should compile a list of things that I'll miss most. I've never known him to suggest tedious ideas so I'll take his suggestion:

• First and foremost, I am going to miss the men. Now, that sounded a bit more risque than I intended so allow me to explain before my father finds the shotgun. The men here are perfect gentlemen, at least the ones that I've met. They wear fashionable clothes than fit them properly, maintain their hair instead of letting it just exist on top of their heads, have beautiful accents, and they're exceptionally intelligent. That's all I ask for: smart, well-tailored, accented men with manners. Is that too much?
• Secondly, I think I am actually going to miss the Tube. We don't have a metro system in Richmond so I'm still kind of fascinated with its efficiency and the strange and interesting people that I apparently attract whilst on it. Most of the people in my program hate going anywhere on the Tube because it's underground and the feel like mole-people. WEll I like being a mole-person. It's like I'm an inhabitant of two cities rather than one
• Thirdly, the music. I LOVE BRITISH MUSIC. I LOVE MUSIC. I LOVE IT ALLLLLL. Seriously, I've seen a lot of bands here and I haven't disliked any of them. Granted, a few were American bands, but that's not the point. I like chill shows at a pub where you're literally 4 feet from the drummer. It's a nice feeling, until you smell the drummer and then it's uncomfortable. But you can't let the little things keep you down.
• Fourthly, the food.... bahaha that's a lie. British food sucks. However, Indian food is my new pride and passion. Literally cannot get enough of it... and now I really want some.
• Fifthly, old, sassy British people. They do not give a single care in the world and will speak their minds to whomever, wherever, whenever. And I love them for it. The world needs a good dose of real talk, and no one will back talk to an adorable old person telling you how it is.

But as much as I will miss these things, there are some things that I am more than ready to leave behind:

• Non-separated checks. This is a really trivial detail, but when you go to dinner with a group of people they don't separate the checks. A) it takes forever to collect the right amount of money from everyone B) everyone wants to count it up their own way and C) I end up spending more because some people can't do math and don't put enough in and then I have to supplement it because I'm actually a nice person.... ugh, I'm not having that anymore
• Weird Diet Coke. All right, let's be honest. We all know I have a problem with Diet Coke. It's fine, whatever. But the Diet Coke here is different. It's sweeter and tastes more like weird Diet Pepsi, which is a huge problem! I just want a nice, crisp, refreshing 32 oz. of Diet Coke from Wawa. Is that too much to ask for?
• Tourists. Tourists are everywhere. And they don't know which side of the sidewalk to walk on. This makes power walking very difficult and more of a an intense agility workout. I don't like it.

There's so much more to add to these lists, however I think you get the point. Regardless, I love this city for its splendors and misfortunes. I know I'm coming back as soon as I feasibly can and not leaving because obviously I will have met and fallen in love with a future Lord or Duke or Earl, etc. Until then...

London Love, Kristen

We'll Always Have Paris...

     Paris is an interesting place. Going into the trip, I hadn’t many expectations except wine, baguettes, and various smells of a concerning nature. And truth be told, I wasn’t entirely wrong with that assumption. Parisians do indeed stroll through the streets with a baguette in hand, the wine is good (but not as good as Spanish wine), and there is an extremely concerning amount of questionable smells. The smells however do not come from the city but its inhabitants.

     Yet upon arrival, I realized that there is so much more to the city. And I’m still not entirely certain how I feel about it. Thus, the best way to explain it is with simple lists sans commentary to allow you to interpret for yourself. From the Eurostar we had to take the metro to the hostel. This is what occurred:

• -    Waiting for the train a woman across the platform was weeping and, at times, screaming hysterical French into her cellphone with absolutely no one around her.
• -   A man in crutches also screaming to himself in French on my platform. He was also very drunk. It was 10am.
• -   A woman got on to the train after me with a baby and a concerning cold sore on her lip who began proclaiming something to the train as soon as it started moving, presumably begging for change. I however don’t know French and had no change.
• -   After the woman departed at the next stop, an older man came on with an accordion. He began to play as soon as the door closed. He was standing right behind me. He was standing right.behind.me.
• -   After exiting the metro at out stop, we walked past a fast-food pizza establishment that was being raided by the police. Our hostel was right across the street.

     Needless to say, my first hour of Paris was very… interesting. But aside from all of the strangeness, I managed to do a lot of really cool things. For one of my classes we went to the Musee D’Orsay where I feel in love with Toulouse Lautrec Then we went to the Louvre where I found that the Mona Lisa was a lot bigger than I thought it would be. Everyone says that it’s smaller than they expected, so I expected it to be small. However, it wasn’t small. It was the size of a normal painting. So I guess you could say that it was more normal that I expected it to be.

     I also went to the Eiffel Tower, both during the day and at night. During the day it was a bit underwhelming. It was really grey outside (really big difference from London) so it looked kind of brownish and dull. But at night, it was magnificent. Seeing it all lit up made me realize why this city was called the City of Lights. Here are some of my favorite pictures:

 

     As far as the food goes: primitive, but delicious. I like to eat the custom foods of an area when I travel so in Paris I had (and please don’t judge me):

-   Croquette deux fromage

-   Croquette madame

-   Duck with fig and honey sauce

-   Baguette (obviously)

-   Beignet

-   Macaroons… so many macaroons. No exaggeration, chocolate macaroons were my favorite part of Paris

-   Quiche

The amount of bread and cheese ingested in just one weekend is uncanny, but what can I say? It was delicious.

     On my last day, we went to Versailles, which was incredible! My camera died that morning so unfortunately no visual aid. But you can Google pictures and they probably would have looked the same. But Versailles was amazing and I would love to go back someday. It truly is a modern marvel in art, architecture, and culture. It reinstated my eight-year-old girl wish to be a princess so I can live in a palace like that. But I don’t want to be Marie Antoinette; that wouldn’t be very fun.

So there you have it, my novella of Paris :)

London Love, Kristen

The Mysterious Tale of the Tap Dancing Rats

An allegory for your thoughts:

     Once upon a time, there were six Princesses who lived in the Dungeon of a magnificent Castle in a faraway land. Yet this Dungeon, and this Castle, were like nothing else; this was no ordinary Dungeon. In the beginning, this Dungeon was an oasis and the most spacious part of the castle. All had flocked from far off lands to spend leisure or seek refuge in the Dungeon. Some had said that the Dungeon is what made the Castle a Palace.
     However, this was only the beginning, because after several months of living in the Dungeon, curious things began to happen; it was almost as if the Castle was playing tricks on the Princesses. At first a cold chill swept the Castle. The magical sauna bath waters transformed into the cold waves from Boreas' winds, and the vents bringing in warm air from the deserts clogged from the solid ice that had formed around them.
     Then in a rush of confusion, lights began bursting, the windows began to view strange things, and the walls began to speak. The Dungeon and Castle, indeed, were under seige by some foreign force.
     What should have alarmed the Princesses did, indeed, worry them. But it was mere fodder for laughing fools. They realized the Dungeon and Castle were not trying to scare them, but playing with them.
     This was all until the noises began from the ceiling. At first it sounded like dripping, tiny pebbles of water into an empty basin. Yet, it grew louder and more rhythmic. The Princesses realized that it wasn't just the Dungeon and the Castle playing tricks anymore: something was inside.
     And what was it you may ask?.... Tap Dancing Rats.
     YES! Tap Dancing Rats!! They pittered and they pattered and they danced through the night above the Princesses' heads. They awoke the Princesses in the morning with their jive and continued all through the day moving to and fro around the dungeon. And it drove the Princesses mad! So mad, indeed, that they protested, with great blunt force, against the celing of the Dungeon to make the stupid rats shut up!!
     But did they? No. They kept tap tap tappin' away up there.
     One day, yes indeed, ONE DAY retribution will be had.

     ... Stupid Tap Dancing Rats

London Love, Kristen

Call The Locksmith

     Often times in class we go to the National Gallery, which is only about 15 minutes to walk to from my classroom. We go there probably once a week and some weeks even more. By now, I know every inch of that walk, from the shops to the restaurants to theatres.
     So now that I'm familiar with the walk, I can now notice things past the signs, adverts, and cluttered window displays. The reason why all of this is important is because I have found the greatest secret in London: Ryan Gosling works as a locksmith on Monmouth Str.
     Ok, so it's not the real Ryan Gosling. But I'm not exaggerating when I say that I did a triple take to make sure... and so did the rest of the girls in my program. I don't actually know his real name, so we just call him Ryan Gosling.
     He works at a locksmith and key-cutting shop on the corner of Monmouth Str with an elderly man who we presume to be his grandfather (who is also an adorable man). He seriously looks like Ryan Gosling. And if you know anything about me, it's that my love for Ryan Gosling is equivalent to my love for Justin Timberlake... which is a lot.
     It's the highlight of my week when I walk past Ryan Gosling's shop. Maybe one day I'll break my key so he can fix it... Also, I am going to make a conscious effort to hone down my creepiness... hopefully.

London Love, Kristen

With Love From Me To You

     On 20 March 1962, my father and his twin brother became the newest and final additions to one of the most loving families I've ever known to exist. Today is their 51st birthday and while I can't be with there in person, I know that they are surrounded by so much love from family and friends.
     My father is most assuredly one of the most influential people in my life and I thank him everyday, whether I say it or not, for all of the wisdom that he has shared with me. I'm fortunate to have such a family that doesn't hesitate to show love and to have a father who is so worthy of looking up to as a role model.
     So before I start crying all over my laptop, just wanted to give a quick shout out to my father, Christopher, and my Uncle Peter. I love you both very much and hope you have a wonderful day. HAPPY BIRTHDAY :)

Dad on the left, Peter on the right....they're wearing "beach smocks"??

How do you think I became such a good cook?

Dad comes to JMU!

Family hike at the Cascades.

London Love, Kristen

Ian the Bouncer & Scott With No T's

     So the Porter House is officially my favorite hang out spot in London (and to clarify before I even begin, it's not because it's a pub). I go there regularly now to hang out with my friends after class or dinner in addition to my new friends Ian the Bouncer and Scott With No T's.

     Ian is the middle-age bouncer at Porter House and is probably one of the most kind and wonderful human beings that I've ever met. He works hard, adores his children, and has given me some of the best advice on life that I've ever heard in my life. And on top of that, he loves me and says I remind him on his daughter. And I find that adorable and not creepy at all. To be honest, I don't remember how I started talking to him or why we were getting so in depth with each others' lives, but we're friends now and I love him nonetheless.

     Scott With No T's is kind of a hilarious story. He's one of the bartenders at Porter House and my friends and I met him the same night as Ian. However, Scott With No T's isn't his real name. His real name is Joe, which we learned on Sunday night. When Ian and I were having our heart to heart, my roommate was talking to Scott/Joe, but she couldn't remember his name. So she turned to me and asked what it was. I, having absolutely no idea, just said, "Scott.. with two T's," and then Scott/Joe played along so then I and everyone else thought that his name was actually Scott With Two T's. It's kind of confusing... and awkward when we found out his real name... but mainly hilarious.

     And the best part yet manifested itself on Sunday, St. Patrick's Day. After seeing the festivities and concerts in Trafalgar Square, my friends and I went to the Porter House where we found waaaaay too many people waiting outside to get in. But because Ian loves me and was working the door, he let us cut the queue and get in without a cover charge. Once inside, Scott With No T's (Joe) gave us free drinks.
     Sometimes awkward moments turn into hilarious stories with wonderful endings. And like Humphrey Bogart told Louis at the end of Casablanca, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

London Love, Kristen

I Lost My Heart To A Galway Girl

     March 15th-17th.
     Cork, Ireland.
     5 Americans.
     Two holidays for the price of one (yes, I consider the Ides of March a political and literary holiday)(and then obviously St. Patrick's Day was the other....just wanted to clarify)

     So pretty much my weekend was one of the best thus far. Cork is a small city on the coast with some of the nicest and most hilarious people I have yet to meet. A girl I was traveling with is friends with an Irish guy who lives and studies in Cork. So we met up with him shortly after landing and he showed us around the city.
     But since Cork is tiny, that lasted about an hour... so then we decided to go to a pub (shocker, I know.) But this wasn't any pub, it was a local brewery. It wasn't Guinness or anything fancy, but it was small and homey and really cheap. So naturally we had to stay for three hours. I can't even begin to explain the confusion on my face when I saw the sun was still out when we left. It's like I forgot what the concept of daylight was altogether.
     Later that night, we went to 21st birthday party at another pub. Moral of Saturday night: Irish people like birthdays, alcohol, and "Sweet Caroline" more than anyone else in the world.
     Saturday, we went to Blarney Castle and much to my anxiety's dismay, I leaned over the edge to kiss the Blarney Stone. Cue the visual aid:

     After that, we went to my friend's favorite pub to watch a few rugby matches (I also love rugby now. Like I reaaallllly love rugby).

     So that's pretty much my Ireland experience in a nut-shell. There are a few more funny stories and a few more pubs, but I think I've made my parents proud enough for one day so I think I'll just quit while I'm ahead :)

London Love, Kristen

What Was My Life Before I Found Paella and Sangria?

     But really though, how did I survive without paella before now? It's the most beautiful creation in the world. I literally ate it everyday, five days in a row. And, admittedly, I ate it twice one day. No shame. And let's not even get started on the wine and sangria... Basically, the moral of this Spanish story is you should just appreciate the beautiful things in life (cough*paella*sangria*cough*cough) while you still can.
    On a more serious note, Barcelona was absolutely wonderful. I went for 6 days with my friend, Phil, and while my ankle prevented me from doing everything in the world, we were still able to have the best spring break ever by making due with what we had. And to be honest, that's exactly what I wanted/needed from a vacation: just a chill getaway from the city with some touristy sight-seeing and a lot of "let's see where life takes us" adventures.
     Actually, I think the latter part was my favorite. Phil and I shared a room with a backpacker from Florida who was pretty much the living, breathing epitome of "let's just see where life takes us." Jason had been working in New Zealand as a dairy farmer (whatever that means) until he saved enough money to just travel the world on his own. We met him after about 2 months on this trek and the amount of stories that he had to tell was novel worthy... in fact, he is working on a novel. Like seriously, it's like we were meant to find each other and be best friends.
     Our friendship was tested, however, when the suggestion came up that I should trade him my copy of  The Count of Monte Cristo (my favorite book) for his copy of On the Road (his favorite book.) Yet, out friendship proved true as we, indeed, traded our most prized possessions. I have to say though, as hard as it was for me to give it up, I'm extremely glad that I did it because On the Road is proving to be a new favorite of mine (if I read 150 pages in two days, that means something.)
     So basically, Barcelona was a beautiful vacation with Phil, Jason, and the various adventures that Spain could provide for a couple of souls like us.

London Love, Kristen

Fits My Life, Oh So Right

    Upon waking this morning with the sun glinting in my eyes after a most glorious 10 hours of sleep, I rose to find that I am now walking the best that I have in the past 10 days. Easily strolling around the flat, I got dressed and sat down to my morning e-mails, Facebook, and music session.
    It felt like the right kind of morning for Dixieland Delight. As I was listening, I received the FANTASTIC news via Facebook that JMU won the CAA Championship last night in Richmond and is now NCAA March Madness bound!! While I typically would have felt an intense wave of F.O.M.O. (fear of missing out), I rather felt extreme pride and happiness for my fellow Dukes. It's such an exciting thing for us and I know that the energy on campus is going to be thriving more than ever today. I wish I  could see it but I the fact that I know it's there and can imagine it makes it even better in some ways.
     Listening to Dixieland Delight made it even more appropriate. That song has become a JMU anthem for me (much like how "Enter Sandman" is for VT folk) and I found it a beautiful scene to be listening to it, with the sun still glaring through my window, as I learned all of this.
     And naturally, since I was on Facebook, I began to "like" every status/picture/comment/suggestion/thought bubble relating to the game and our victory. And then endless scrolling kept me doing this for nearly ten minutes and I gave up on trying to like everything because there was just too much to like! And I never give up on "liking" Facebook statuses!! So this was my morning, and I'm just really happy to be a Duke and alive and have the sun coming through my window :)

And, of course, the visual aids:

This is JMU, we like to storm things.

President Alger cutting the net (also shout-out and congratulations to him! It's his inauguration week!!)

London Love and Duke Dog Delight, Kristen

PS- I'm not neglecting any Spain stories. I just found this post to be more of a priority at the moment.... and now  I have to go to class. KEEP POSTED FOR IT!!

Remember That One Time...

     So it took great deliberation whether I would share this with my cyber community or not, but I guess it will be one of the most memorable experiences of my trip.
     So here it goes: I sprained my ankle last Wednesday because my powers of observation briefly failed me as I went to lean against a railing that was actually a gate and not a railing where I then fell down a flight of concrete stairs.

And now for the visual aid (VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED):

DAY TWO: We don't have ice, so we improvised with frozen french fries and chicken.

DAY TWO (pt. II): the swelling prohibited me from holding my ankle straight... also let's note how gargantuous that thing is.

DAY FIVE: But at least I got to play in the Mediterranean Sea.

DAY FIVE (pt. II): It's not that gross, right?

So there you have it. It happened. And now you know... this is my life, these are my choices.

London Love, Kristen

Identity In A Nation, Identity In A Self

     I know whoever reads this blog on a regular basis must be getting really tired of me saying how much I love the places that I'm traveling. Truthfully, even I get annoyed at myself for doing it. But it's really only because that's what this trip is doing to me: it's making me see the beauty of cultures, languages, and world's other than my own. I love my country and I'm proud to be where I'm from, but I can't deny how incredibly grateful I am to be enlightened to what the rest of the world has to offer.

     This became extremely evident to me as I was going about explorations of Prague.
     I didn't know a single word. I couldn't even say "yes" or "no." In the beginning of the trip, I thought this was going to hold me back the entire time and make me regret my decision. Yet, it didn't; it did just the opposite actually. The language barrier showed me something that I hadn't thought about before. Letters, words, phonetical structures, and basic grammar don't make people who they are. Knowing a language of a country isn't going to change anything about what that country has to offer. I learned just as much by letting my dear friend Alex translate for us than I would have if I were speaking for myself.
     Sure, ordering my own dinner would have made things more efficient some nights. But sitting back and watching her translate and seeing the ideas and understanding flow through two people, while I sit there listening to indiscernible words,
     Initially, I had begun to record my Prague experience with a witty and sharp account of my travels, but upon further reflection I saw that I would much rather explain to you all that I understood nothing around me, but learned nearly everything that I could have. And probably some more too.

London Love, Kristen

Nevím, jak mluvit česky

     ...and you probably don't either.

     Thank God for Google Translate.

London Love, Kristen

"Let's Just See Where Life Takes Us"

     There is a certain beauty of having class only three days a week. A facet of this beauty lies in the fact that I can explore the city for as long as I want to at night without having to worry about waking up early for class four days a week. This was exercised earlier this week when I met up with my new friend Rad (remember him?).
     I've been in London for awhile now and I've navigated and explored the city a lot. So when I don't recognize a Tube stop, it gets a little curious and fearful that I'm going to get lost (and I think we've already established my susceptibility to getting lost.) Nevertheless, I trusted Rad to navigate for the both of us, seeing as he is a native, and we managed to not get lost at all (thank god.)
     The night began casually with catching up, pleasant conversation, and of course more political debate. Then we moved on to another new part of the city for me to see a concert in a small pub basement. I have to say it was really nice to be seeing a show in a basement where not everyone was terrified that it would spontaneously ignite at any given moment (yes, that has happened before.) And London has proved it's talents again with two incredible bands. I'm seriously going to hate not being able to find pub bands when I go back to the States.
     The first was Grass House. Admitedly, I was skeptical at first. But after listening to the whole set I think they're really onto something. They may be a little ahead of their time, but I like it and it can see them going places.
     Now the second band was soooooooo gooooood. Houndmouth is still really new and only has one EP but they're reealllly good. They're actually American but had a hard time making it there. So they're trying the UK to see if that works better.
     After the show, Rad and I went exploring some more and found ourselves at a small jazz pub in Shoreditch. We were literally the only ones in the pub with the exception of the bartender (who is now my new best friend.)
     All in all, yet another wonderful evening exploring the city with a really amazing guy. See what beautiful things happen when you just see where life wants to take you?

London Love, Kristen

I Could Have Touched Heaven

     In order to properly understand what I'm going to talk about you need to see this:

     That massive land formation in the background, my friends, is Arthur's Seat. Arthur's Seat is the highest point in Edinburgh and has the most beautiful views of the city and of Scotland. You can see for miles past the city where the farms start to lay out and the sea comes to the coast.

     On our last day, a few of us decided to hike it. Well, it ended up being more like a sprint up to the top due to a time crunch, but we made it nonetheless. And my abs felt wonderful after it, so that's good. At the top I found absolutely no disappointment. It was breathtaking and it was majestic and it was pure. When I was at the Abbey, I felt this sense of understanding and clarity with myself as a person and human, and being at the top of Arthur's Seat brought me the same thing. I felt infinite; I was infinite. 

     If I may have a moment of complete honesty, I began writing these entries with the intention of finding inspiration to properly relay the impact that Scotland, Finnigan's Wake, and Arthur's seat had on me. Yet I have to admit that I'm struggling for the words. It all means so much to me and I feel like a broken record, but in all sincerity I can't explain how much I loved every moment and what it did for my experience of this country. Perhaps one day I'll find a more eloquent and novella worthy manner of explaining this experience, but for now, I think I'm still in awe.

    So in that case, I think I'll just let some of the pictures speak for themselves:

And this one's for my fellow Dukes and Ambassadors:

London Love, Kristen

I'm Shipping Up To Scotland

Brief unrelated preface: my deepest apologies for my absence as of late. Too much life living and school work, not enough hours in the day.

     Edinburgh: the one weekend in Scotland that I will never forget. And if I had the ability to live a night over again, it would be my first night in Edinburgh at Finnegan's Wake (clarifier: it's a pub, not an actual wake for someone named Finnegan).
     The beautiful thing about Edinburgh, and Scotland in general, is how incredibly homey it feels. It's a smaller city, but it functions much differently than that of London. Its foundation is not only based on historical presence, but also tradition, customs, and an overall sense of family. Now by that I don't mean that everyone is creepily related because they marry their cousins, I simply mean that strangers are welcome just the same as old friends. It's a purely pleasant place that just feels comfortable.
     And Finnegan's Wake was no exception. Ironically enough, it's an Irish pub in the middle in the middle of Scotland. The band playing there consisted of a few middle aged men playing a mixture of Scotch and Irish folk songs, the Killers, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Dropkick Murphy's, Journey, etc. ("Don't Stop Believin'" came on at one point, and for any JMU kiddos out there....well you know what happens when that song comes on). Let's just say it was the best Scotch-Irish-JMU pub/party that I have been to.
     I hate to make it sound like a fairytale, but for that night, everyone lived happily ever after. Everyone left with warm hearts, new friends, and first-hand knowledge that Scotland is one of the most beautiful places in the world, inside and out.
     The following night we returned to Finnegan's Wake only to find another glorious night. Different band but it was equally as fun and the Aussie bartender invented a new drink for me and my friend. Sorry Mom and Dad that I'm making that a highlight, but you got to admit that's pretty cool :)

London Love, Kristen

PS- We discovered that you can take any song with "Boston" in it and change it to "Scotland" and it still sounds normal. Hence, the title of this entry.

Critical Update: Sog, Rad, Puss, & Aud

     I received a message from Rad today inquiring as to when our next meeting and sharing of conversation will be. In the spirit of full disclosure, a scene may or may not have been had in the middle of Forever 21 due to unexpected and superfluous giddiness.
     That is the end of this update.

London Love, Kristen

Whitman Has Songs of Himself, Women Have Rationalities For Themselves

     At various points in a woman's life, she will feel the need to celebrate. Tradition has it that celebrations include (but are not limited to) drinks, food, dancing, "getting dolled up", and/or shopping. The celebratory experience that occurred this past week included a very skewed and estrogen-filled take on this celebration.
     Now as women, we tend to be very....conscious of our food and drink intake (something about how women are always insecure about their weight. I mean who does that, right?). So instead of going out for some drinks and flirting at a pub, we stayed in our yoga pants and went hard core grocery shopping to buy two bags of frozen french fries, 2 loaves of garlic bread, a pepperoni pizza, and an assortment of British biscuits and crisps (biscuits = cookies; crisps = potato chips... yeah, I got colloquialisms.) The night started out as so:

We also needed paper towels, but that's beside the point.

     I wish there was an "after" picture, however I was so monumentally full of junk food and regret that I could not do so. Now, mind you, this IS NOT an everyday occurance. We were merely done with classes for the week and wanted to enjoy some quality time together to celebrate. So rather than drinking our calories, we ate them.... quite a lot of them. But it was filled with wonderful company, a few Beyonce youtube videos, and quality "girl talk." 

     IMPORTANT: I would also like to add that we all went on a 5 mile run this morning to rid ourselves of any left over regret and shame for out actions the night before.

     Thus is the theory and rationality behind the celebratory actions of women.

London Love, Kristen

For Your Viewing Pleasure

     I've been noticing that I have a tendency to use a lot of words, particularly with this blog. Today's post will be a deterrent from that course as I will now show you some of my favorite pictures that I have taken thus far. But of course since it is me, I may be adding "brief" commentary to my selections.

Bedford Place: This is one of the first pictures I took here. It's just down the street from my flat, but to me it's one of the most London-esque scenes I've yet to see.

The Streets: En route to the British Library, I snapped this in the middle of the street. It's so ordinary, but I can't tell you how much I love it. For some reason Mumford & Sons "Winter Winds" comes into my head every time I see it.

Tower Bridge: Ever lovely and, surprisingly, kind of green.

Scene of It All: From inside the gates of White Castle.

Big Ben: the most iconic London image and beautiful building in the city.

Big Ben II: I just like to play with angles.

On the Thames: The London Eye and a riverboat. I feel like I keep taking postcard snapshots instead of artistic pictures. Oh well, I'll still take it.

Cutty Sark: I don't remember a thing about the story of the Cutty Sark. But they turned it into a monument in the middle of Greenwich Square so I guess it has a pretty good one.

Is This UVA?: No, it's not UVA. It's just Greenwich Park... just casually being wonderful.

The Middle of the Universe: This is the marker for the Prime Meridian. 

In Two Different Worlds: In many ways, I was in two different worlds standing there. It wasn't just eastern and western hemispheres, it was (ok, sorry about this. English major problems) like a metaphor for my adventure over here: straddling my culture and a new culture, where my life was and where it's going.

Perfect: Greenwich is perfect. This town made me feel like I was home, and I would love to call it that someday.

As Always, London Love, Kristen

I Suck

     My biggest regret in London: not bringing my camera with me to the Milo Greene concert. Seriously, I took front row to a whole new level. But alas, I made the tragic mistake and now must live with it.
     The show was still JSVBJAKLBJ AMAZING!! In total there were four acts, the final of which being Milo Greene. Since I didn't get photos, I'll attach youtube videos instead of the other artists.
     Leanne Robinson: homegirl cried onstage during this song.
     Echo Tape: I don't think I've ever seen a lead singer so monged out of his mind and a guitarist twitching just a little too much for normalcy. But their music was so electric and full. Indeed.
     Khushi: ok, disclaimer: I, unfortunately, could not find a better video for Khushi. He is absolutely wonderful and is not completely an acoustic artist like youtube thinks he is. He's actually one of the best guitarists I've ever seen and is pretty darn cute too.
     Milo Greene: of course. If you haven't had the pleasure of listening to them before, this is the song that made me fall in love with them. Enjoy!

London Love, Kristen

The A-Team

So let's just say that my professors are very....interesting people. There's really no need for preface. Let's just take a look at the lot shall we:


The Sir: Monday morning, still jet lagged from the plane, I walk in to find my "Media & Politics" professor wearing the most English-looking suit I think I will ever see. The Sir was wearing a three piece, pea soup green, tweed suit with a red paisley tie that matched his pocket square. All of this was on top of a blue and white striped shirt with PINK suspenders. To top it all off, he had an overcoat that was the same pea-soup green tweed as his suit and a bowler hat. To his merit, he is one of the most knowledgeable people I've ever met and have great esteem for his accomplishments as a teacher and politico.


The Fox: My "London Theatre" teacher is arguably the most entertaining woman that I've ever met. I literally took notes on what this woman was wearing/saying. Here's the list:

-- Pink rolling backpack

--Boots with the fur (mind you, she's nearly 60 years old)

--Ice blue eye makeup and bright red/purple lipstick

--Direct quote: "French men give the best sex." Then she alluded that we should take advantage of that situation if it presented itself
--She also divulged to us that she was thinking about starting to club again....like at real clubs....with her girlfriends....who are also 60 years old.....


The Dude: In a nutshell, my "Culture by Design" teacher is a former-American renegade who "got the hell out of America" with the first chance that he got. Pretty much, he never had any plan for his life and just went with it to see where he would end up. (I actually find this quite admirable.) He has three basic stereotypes about English accents: they are either (1) Fancy. "English accent means you are far fancier than I will ever be," (2) Snooty, "Excuse me, do you have any Grey Poupon?," or (3) Gay.


The Gran: My "European History" professor. Sweetest old thing that you ever did meet who should be knitting by a fireplace instead of dealing with us all day. Earlier today she lectured me on the history of feminine products. I still don't know why, but I love her just the same.


And finally, The Muse: "Art History". Let's just say, she's seen it all, done it all, and painted a crap ton of it all. 


London Love, Kristen