Day 15

Lesson 41: If you have a choice, don't go to London Met, part I

So I take classes at two different universities-- I take 2 Maryland classes with Maryland professors at rented space at Birkbeck College, and then I take 2 classes through London Metropolitan University, aka community college. At first I really didn't think anything of it--why would the University of Maryland have a partnership with a school that wasn't as well-respected as UMD is?? Seriously...why? I was talking with a girl in one of my classes and she actually said to me: "Why did you come here? This uni is a disgrace!" I didn't really know what she was talking about until I was waiting to go into another one of my classes with a different girl and the following conversation ensued:

Girl: So where are you from?

Me: New York

Girl: Like the city?

Me: A little bit outside the city on Long Island

Girl: Ugh you're so lucky! I've never actually made it to New York but I have been to New Jersey, but I know New Jersey is no longer a part of New York

Now I know I'm really in no place to make fun of British people considering a majority of them probably know more about America than Americans do about Britain, but either way I still found it difficult to not laugh in this poor girl's face. I managed to just nod and smile and not embarrass this girl in front of her friends for thinking that New Jersey had seceded from New York.

Lesson 42: If you have a choice, don't go to London Met, part II

The London Met campus where I have my classes is just around the corner from Brick Lane, and I'm 99% sure that if you walked into any of the stores nearby, they would accept Rupees as a form of payment. Nothing against that culture or that community, and I understand that the abroad experience is supposed to immerse you in a different land with a different culture, but I SOO did not sign up to study abroad in Bombay.

Day 13

Lesson 39: Never hesitate going to Church

So for the second weekend in a row my roommates and I went to Church. I was a little hesitant at first to be going two sundays in a row just because I don't want to overdo it and have it lose its appeal, but it seriously just gets better and better. This time I went dressed as a Native American--initially I was going for Pocahontas but since I didn't have a racoon or hummingbird and every person I asked to be Grandma Willow refused, I figured a generic Native American would have to suffice. I guess I should use the term Native American loosely, considering my costume consisted of a simple brown dress with a tan leather belt, braids with a feathered headband, and my fringed "Pocahontas" boots. Needless to say I turned a few heads. It could have been because my dress was so short you could see my small intestines, or it could have been that the Brits/Aussies (Church is an Aussie bar) didn't know what the hell I was supposed to be, considering they don't have Native Americans in the UK. No matter what it was, I enjoyed the attention.

Lesson 40: I am in fact a celebrity

At Church there is this large tv screen showing people in the club. Upstairs in the club there is some clever person working with the camera people to make witty comments about the people being shown on the screen. For example, a friend of mine was zoomed in on and he was given the caption of "lurker." Of course I was zoomed in on. They froze the shot and outed me as being jailbait. I was infuriated!!! The bastards ruined any chances I had of meeting anyone. The cameraman did seem to love me though--I made it onto the screen a few different times. During my post-Church McDonalds meal (which was just around the corner from the club) someone came up to me and told me I was basically a celebrity for being on the jumbotron so much. Well duh I would be on the jumbotron--who wouldn't want to stare at a 5x sized picture of me???

Day 12

Lesson 36: Buckingham Palace isn't that impressive

No offense to the Queen or any of the other royal family members (I know you're reading this Harry...) but if I were as royal as any of you, I'd want a much cooler palace than Buckingham. When we first walked up to it I wasn't even sure if it was anything of importance until I saw a sign about the changing of the guards, at which point I wondered if they did the changing of the guards at places other than the palace. Just sayin...there are some houses in Sands Point that shit on Buckingham Palace.

Lesson 37: Leicester Square looks so much different in the daytime

After having spent the first week and a half going out just about every night because I didn't have any classes or anything else to really do, I thought that I was basically a local and knew Leicester Square like the back of my hand. False. During our touristy day out in the city we somehow managed to meander our way from Trafalgar Square into Leicester Square, but I didn't even realize where we were. Initially I was impressed that they had more than one Haagen Dazs restaurants in London that happened to both be across from a TKTS stand. Given we came from a completely different direction than we had ever entered Leicester Square from, and even though I never actually said any of this out loud, I still felt dumber just for the mere fact that the thought had entered my mind.

Lesson 38: Invest in oven mitts

Day 11

Lesson 35: A dead phone does not mean someone has been "Taken"

One of my roommates, name shall be withheld, left circa 3pm with a boy who she had been recently spending a good amount of time with. All of us had met the guy and his friends and had even become so close that he had the delight of becoming my facebook friend. Basically everything about him told us he was normal. Circa 6pm I bbm'd this friend asking where she was and when she planned on coming back. Seeing as the bbm application was created for creepy stalkers like myself, I was able to tell when my message was delivered and when/if she had read it. She first responded to my initial "yooo" with a "heyyyy," after which I replied with a "where you at fooo'?" I could tell that she read the bbm, but she never responded. I then bbm'd her again but it was never delivered. It was clear her phone was off. I started to feel like a panicking mother. Watching "Taken" before I left was clearly a bad idea, because now I think EVERYONE and their mother is in human trafficking. My roommate and the guy stumbled back into the apartment around 11pm, kebabs in hand, after apparently hitting up 8 different pubs. Lucky for us they came back with some reviews and recommendations for places that we'll be hitting up pretty soon.

Day 10

Lesson 32: When the dishwasher is broken, you must handwash the dishes

Or else be prepared to deal with...

I present to you exhibit A: a moldy spoon that had been sitting in our broken dishwasher for over 2 days.

Lesson 33: Americans are dumb

So Thursday was my first day of classes, and my longest day ever. I kicked it off with my British Politics class, and was already assigned a topic for a 1-sided debate. Despite the fact that I am a gov major, I have never done a debate. Due to my lack of experience with debates, my general assumption was that there are supposed to be two different sides presented, and then you argue. Evidently I'm supposed to do a debate on my own...innnnnteresting. Anywho, my next class was my History of London class. At the very beginning our professor, who was looking quite snazzy in his blue wool sweater with a pocket con pocket protector on his arm, gave a quiz about American/world history. The questions were extremely esoteric but I still felt like an imbecile...no sir, I do not know the capitals of at least 10 sub-Saharan African countries. Sorry dude.

Lesson 34: Fun fact of the day

King George had a disease that made him go crazy and made his pee turn purple. Must have been some funky asparagus.

Day 9

Lesson 30: Always take adventures with the Fabes

When all else fails and I'm dying of boredom, the Fabes is always down to find something to do. First there was the shopping adventure through Oxford Street (where I got a FABULOUS Free People shirt for 10 pounds: see FB profile pic for details). Then there was the adventure to meet some new friends we made the night before at a student pub about 20 min away. Well when we got to this student pub (Imperial Union??) it turned out our new friend was hanging out with his Rugby friends. It was like all of the Ralph Lauren/Vineyard Vines/J Crew ads ever created came to life. And it was fucking awesome.

Lesson 31: Hangers are not locks

Every now and then, roommates will bring people back to the apartment for some G-rated fun after going out at night. Most 20-somethings usually bring home boys for a little PG13+ fun after the pubs, but no no, not us. Our post-games include endless episodes of Family Guy and South Park...duhhh. So far these people have mainly been the boys that live above us (who also go to Maryland) and occasionally some new friends. Needless to say by the time we all get back to the flat, most people are pretty drunk. So when it came time for me and Gabby to call it a night, we went back to our room and closed our doors (we have those double french style doors). To avoid being bothered by drunkards walking into our room in the middle of the night, we decided to put a plastic hanger over the two doorknobs in an attempt to lock the doors. 15 minutes later when Gabby and I were well into our respective episodes of Glee on our computers, one of our roommates comes barging in. The hanger goes FLYING across the room, and Gabby and I just look at each other. Fail.

Day 8

Lesson 28: They DO have good food here, part II
One of my roommates' dad was on business in London and took us out to this restaurant called Wild Honey. After hours of deliberation (okay 5 minutes) I decided to go for the baby cow. Despite the vast effort of my roommates to spare the life of the delicious, juicy baby cow, I simply reasoned that it was already dead, and I shouldn't let it go bad, lest it have been butchered in vain. After this strong argument, I actually managed to convince two other roommates to order the veal as well. So what if we killed an entire litter of baby cows? It was worth it. For dessert we had something that I had figured I would have had to wait until I went to France to get...a cheese platter. I. Love. Cheese.

Lesson 29: The time difference makes acceptances that much better

During this dinner, around 10pm at night, I received an email on my phone saying that I had been selected for a really competitive summer internship. Seeing as our table was 4 bottles of wine deep, I was that much more excited about it. If it had come any earlier I would have been happy, but not remotely as ecstatic as I was. I guess it could have been the mixture of baby cow, cheese, and the exorbitant amount of wine making its way through my small intestine, but after 10 minutes of beaming, it started to hit me that this summer I would be venturing into the ghettos of DC, and I started to get a bit nauseous.

Day 7

Lesson 26: The Senate House Library (my school's library) does not have wifi

Our final orientation was monday morning, and let's be real...I'm never going to the library. I walked into this orientation about 10 minutes late, was handed a pamphlet from which the woman (who looked just as miserable as us) read directly from, and I didn't have to sign any sort of attendance sheet. Absolute bullshit. The only thing I learned was that the library doesn't have wifi. Really Maryland? You couldn't get us a school that has wifi? Haiti has wifi. Ethernet cables are SO 1994. That was the last straw. Within the next 3 minutes my friends and I bolted from that bullshit and were on our way to a pub.

Lesson 27: They DO have good food here, part I

A few of my friends and I went to this one pub where we got tapas. I have to say considering I am one of the most indecisive people anyone can ever meet, tapas is the greatest invention in the history of food. We started off with some bread with olive oil and vinaigrette. Then we moved onto some massive meatballs in meatsauce, fried calamari with garlic mayonnaise, mozzarella and toe-MAH-toe salad, greek salad, and chicken skewers. It was my dream. I was finally able to get EVERYTHING I wanted on the menu for £7.

Day 6

Lesson 24: It is in fact VERY easy to get a jew to go to church

But not just any church, no no. This is the church of the antichrist. The Church is this bar/club that's only open on sundays from noon-4. £9 gets you 3 beers of your choice in a plastic bag. I immediately tied the plastic bag to my belt loops. It was so beyond classy I couldn't even handle it. One of the very first things the MC said was "welcome, sinners." I knew this was the place for me. People come dressed in these ridiculous costumes--there were smurfs, slutty nuns, mario and luigi, and one of the best--santa claus, who had one of the greatest lines: "come sit on my lap." He actually wound up being a really nice guy.

This club basically was spring break in costume. Some girls would get on stage for drinking contests but in the end they would all be topless.....don't worry, I stayed on the floor, even though I know everyone in the entire place was basically dying to see me dominate the aussies in a dizzy bat competition (the mogul wasn't budging).

This church was also the venue of my first encounter with a stripper. The "woman's" face was jacked--huuuge jaw line and just generally fugly features. At first I thought it was going to be a tranny stripper, but was slightly disappointed when it had female parts (nothing against her, I just thought that a tranny stripper would be more sinister and thus more fitting for this place than just an ugly woman stripper). I'm still contemplating the possibility that she is post-op.

In conclusion, you can bet your ass I will be going back to this place, and next time I will be in FULL costume--I figure since I brought my Pocahontas boots, I might as well put them to use.

Lesson 25: There is nothing better than a donor kebab after an afternoon filled of Fosters, strippers, and smurfs

A block away from the church was this little kebab place. There are two things in this world that I cannot live without. Tums and tzatziki sauce. I downed about a gallon of both after we left the church. I just can't help myself when it comes to cheap lamb being carved off of those big spinning chunks of delicious animal, my mouth waters up and my stomach rumbles is preparation for the demolition of a sandwich.

Day 5

Lesson 21: Haagen Dazs has food

Some of my roommates and I went to....wait for it..........The. Haagen. Dazs. Restaurant. Who the fuck knew they served food??? (evidently lots of people because they are supposedly all over the world, including one in New York...it's cooler for me to think it's only in London though). Despite the fact that that night it was roughly -87 degrees outside, the ice cream-based food was phenomenal. The only thing better than my syrup-drenched belgian waffles with pralines & cream AND dulce de leche ice cream was my Baileys double espresso with that extra shot of whiskey. It tasted like an alcoholic chocolate creamy dream.

Lesson 22: Celsius is colder than fahrenheit

Our freezer froze our alcohol. How does that happen? It wasn't even the gross cheap vodka that I usually am forced to deal with back at school (okay, so maybe I secretly enjoy being able to buy a handle for $13.99, but that's besides the point). The freezer froze Smirnoff, Bacardi, and even a bottle of gin. All I know is that has never happened in the states where they use fahrenheit to measure the temperature, so this was the only explanation we could come up with.

Lesson 23: Pulp Fiction lied

This one really, REALLY upset me. Being the connoisseur of Tarantino movies that I am, I was at the brink of tears when I walked into a McDonalds, only to see that a "Quarter-Pounder with Cheese" was still a "Quarter-Pounder with Cheese." Despite the Brits usage of the metric system, there was no "Royale with Cheese." The next time I run into Tarantino on the streets you can bet your ass I'm going to have a few words with him about that. It's like finding out there's no Santa Claus, and everyone has just been lying to you for years, and you feel betrayed and that you can no longer trust anyone. ANYONE.

Day 4

Lesson 18: Listen to the club promoters in Leicester Square

Each night that my roommates and I go out in Leicester Square (basically a cleaner, safer version of Times Square) we are attacked by club promoters trying to makeout with us slash pimp out their respective clubs to us. We had heard of this club called Verve and figured we'd go check it out. On our way there we were told by a few different promoters that Verve was not "poppin." Being the stubborn Americans that we are, we just assumed they were saying that so as to get us to go to their clubs. False. They were dead on. Not only was this place dead, but I'm pretty sure all British preteen athletic teams had just come for a post-game Indian food party......an interesting concoction of BO and various other stenches. We left immediately. There should be at least a 5 minute money-back warranty on cover charges for bars. What a waste.

Lesson 19: Not all British people are proper, and a slight reversal of Lesson 7

After our long night of barhopping and crying because earlier in the night I killed my knee after running into a door doing the "greased up deaf guy," we were on a mission to get home. There were absolutely NO cabs to be found. We walked a few blocks over hoping to find something. But still nothing. After 20 minutes of wandering around the streets of London around 3:30am (don't worry parents, it was well-lit and I was wearing stilettos that should be registered as deadly weapons) we FINALLY flagged down a cab. Before I could even finish telling the driver where we were going (they don't let you get in unless you do that) he cocked his fat head to the side and said, "ehhh Awy don't fink awy'm going in thaht dawyrection" and was off. Are you fucking kidding me??? If Eliza Doolittle could learn to speak, one might think a cabbie could, but no. Evidently cabbies go through like 5 years of training to be a driver, but they couldn't manage to teach him to pick up 5 girls in the middle of the night. After about 20 more minutes of wandering around we hailed down another cab. HOWEVER, and that is a VERY BIG HOWEVER, while I was telling the cabbie where we were going, two big bags of douche pushed through my friends as they were starting to get into the cab and stole it from us. They refused to get out and the driver didn't do shit. Needless to say they got some words and a few different hand gestures from us. I hope they crashed and were forced to suffer through a massive explosion, dying a slow and painful burning death.

Lesson 20: Knock on the door of Flat 25 at any hour of the night, someone will answer

The flat directly above us is also a UMD flat with 3 girls and 2 guys. Even though there are the same amount of people as us, their apartment is twice the size of ours. Then again if I was living with a couple of frat boys I would prefer to have as much space as possible too. But that's besides the point. Their apartment has turned into the go-to place whenever we get back from the bars at night...even when we don't go out with them. So after the past hour of attempting to find a cab home, we had to share our stories with our friends upstairs. Circa 4am we run upstairs and start knocking on the door--it was answered eventually, by a friend (who doesn't even live there). We barged in immediately and ran into our friends' bedroom to wake them up so they would party with us. After ripping their sheets off and a few minor attempts at pantsing them, the guys were game for a post-game. We didn't get to bed until 6am.