For Ellen

I was just stalking myself and saw that I never made a London post!  Obviously the time to make one is now, three months after my trip!  I'll make this short and sweet, I just need to document something London-related because it's been one of my favorite trips thus far.

The Basics:
WHO: Mallory, Ellen, Nicola, Julia, Tatiana and Maried
WHAT: Went to...
WHERE: London, England
WHEN: November 12-14
WHY: Because I wanted to, bitch.

What I did:
The original plan was to stalk out the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 world premiere (my not-so-secret agendas), but seeing as how I'm a responsible student and had educational obligations the night of the premiere, I decided to leave Bologna the morning after. 

It's true, what they say about London.  It really does have the worst weather ever.  Dreary, dreary, and just so goddamn dreary.  But when you're wearing new boots your feet aren't used to, in the cold and rain, everything sucks. 

I didn't get to meet the Queen or propose to Prince Harry, but I did visit Notting Hill, Madam Tousseaud's (where I promptly groped a wax Daniel Radcliffe), Buckingham Palace, Harrods, the London, Tower and Millennium Bridges,  St. Paul's Cathedral, the most important of which obviously being PLATFORM 9 and 3/4.  Obviously.

No, I didn't get to see Parliament (tear) or Big Ben.  A) I heard Big Ben isn't actually that big and I only give my time to things that are nominally accurate, and B) I just didn't have time.  I also didn't get the chance to ride on a double decker bus.

Nico and I spending some quality time with our pediatrician

When I say I was in London for the weekend, I really mean I was at Hogwarts

I also ate.  A lot.  More than I have probably any other weekend in my life.  And I live in Italy.  I didn't expect to eat so much because I thought, as is the general consensus, that English food was disgusting and bland.  Then again, I didn't really eat any inherently English food.  At one point, at the Notting Hill market, I had a falafel wrap in one hand and an assortment of seafood in my other hand.  So a meal for 3.  Later that weekend, I had Chipotle, McDonald's (what the fuck was I doing...), popcorn and candy at the movies (yeah, we went to the movies in London.  I regret that), and curry.  Didn't get to eat fish and chips, basically the only English thing worth eating.  I love stereotypes.

Me being a hipster artist and photographing hipster musicians

Notting Hill

Sounds like I need to go back to London!  Any takers?

My London Commentary:
-Living in an English-speaking country other than the United States would literally require me to learn a new language.  I struggled to understand most of the British English that I heard.  I know from my extensive stalking of English celebrities that accents vary greatly depending on where you're from in England, but I was truly disappointed with my incompetence.  Because of this I was too scared to try out my fake British accent, modeled after the one and only Hermione Granger.  In Madrid, I also could not understand the Irish people I eavesdropped on.  And sometimes I can't even understand the weird southerners from my own country.

-There were too many Starbucks (but really there's no such thing) and not enough garbage bins in which to throw away our Starbucks cups.  This is an important national issue.

-THE POUND.  The pound should die.  I thought I hated the euro but the pound is 100 times worse.  I say 100 because that's how many different coins there are: too many.  IT'S RIDICULOUS.  To this day, I keep finding random nugget pence coins hiding in my backpack and purse.  LEAVE ME BE!

YOUR EYES DO NOT FOOL YOU.  IT IS EXCESSIVE.

-The tube is amazing.  I just love metros.  None beat the Spanish metro, however, as it provides the most eye candy.  London's metro cards are called oysters though, and I just cannot accept that.

-I don't understand why the doors open backwards on cabs.

-This is Stefanie, our lovely London tour guide, one of Ellen's old friends from her first time abroad.  She was so so sweet, took us to all the hip places.  It was when we weren't with her that we were all lost and foreign.  Thanks, Stefanie!

Best Scot ever!

-I need that Look Left/Look Right thing to spread here in Bologna.  The streets literally tell you which way to look for incoming vehicles.  It's brilliant!  Unless you're dyslexic, then you should know better than to leave your home.  In Bologna, I always find myself looking the opposite direction down a one-way street, because I never remember which ones are one-way streets, because everything here is disorganized.  Then I feel cool because I remembered to look for potential danger, and then I'm offended when I get honked at by a Beemer going 100mph that came in from the other side.

-Platform 9 and 3/4 was everything I ever hoped it would be.  Except for the barrier was obviously closed, since I saw it around Thanksgiving.  Had I come a few weeks later, I might have seen the Weasley family stumble its way out of the magical world.  I would have promptly hidden in their car.

Tati, Nicola, Me, Julia and Ellen

-Took a tour of Old London (I think?  I don't know, I slept for the entire thing) organized through our hostel with a Canadian tour guide named Ben.  He looked like Zach Galifianakis and was very Canadian.  Hence why I slept the entire time.  Plus most of it was under cover of darkness and in the boring, rich financial district I'll never afford to live in.  Out of spite, I cannot force myself to think of it any longer.

THIS IS NOT LONDON BRIDGE. LONDON BRIDGE IS MUCH UGLIER.

This is Millenium Bridge, the bridge the dementors destroyed in Harry Potter and the
Half-Blood Prince.  Just a fun piece of important history for you all.

-I think it would be really funny if England won no golds at its Olympics they worked so hard to coordinate with their sex logo.  They'll claim they were just happy to host, but everyone always wants to win.  Everyone.  Especially athletes.  Everyone.

-Also in London, I took some of my most favoritest pictures ever:

 

Literally the bottom line:
I would live in London in a heartbeat.

Tumblr Is Better

--And this is why I have so many friends.

My roommate just went to a laundromat to dry her clothes. She stole one of my suitcases. The slut!!!!!! 

I let her borrow it.

I'm sorry, one person who reads my blog, that I haven't updated in such a long while. I've been super busy. Juggling school, attending class every single day, incessant studying - nay, incessant learning, tutoring 32 children for free out of the goodness of my heart, taking beautiful photographs of beautiful things and beautiful people, being frugal, cooking wonderful meals from all cultures for my wonderful friends of ALLLLL shapes and sizes, and journaling. Just journaling about this life-changing experience I'm so fortunate to be able to enjoy...



-------> I've been sitting on my ass.

It's getting colder, and my figurative Minnesotan blood is just aching for hibernation. So, yeah, sometimes my 25 minute walk to class isn't appealing. Crucify me. Hey, apparently it snowed in St. Paul yesterday? So I heard. If so:

 

I suppose I should at least document what courses I'm taking this semester, if anything, for the sake of adding an inchling of legitimacy to this embarrassment of a blog:

• Multiculturalismo e Relativismo Culturale:
• SYLLABUS:
• "In this course, which is apparently philosophy of human rights, we will seek to combine all words known to mankind that end in '-ismo.' You must know them all, how to spell them, what they mean, the root of each word, and the person who developed it, their mother's maiden name, their place of birth, and how many sexua partners they had"
• "There is a reading list of 300 books, you only have to pick three, but they're at a reading level far beyond your years and impossible to find"
• Il Boom: Il Cinema Italiano del Miracolo Economico:
• SYLLABUS: 
• "In this course, we will watch all sorts of movies that all look and sound and are the same" 
• "Multiple-page papers will be required every once in a while (although most of the students have never taken a film class before) usually on a topic you will not know much about. Please - do not seek to write intelligently. Simple, easy sentences that make you sound like a fourth-grader are more than acceptable"
• "Be prepared to set aside 3 hours per article assigned, even if it's only 3 pages long. It is not guaranteed that those 3 hours will produce a satisfactory comprehension level"
• Corso Avanzato di Lingua e Società Italiana 
• SYLLABUS:
• "REMEMBER TO BUY A GIANT ART FOLDER, BECAUSE THE ONLY SIZE PAPER OWNED IS COMPARABLE TO A KING-SIZE BED SHEET. ITALY DOES NOT BELIEVE IN STAPLERS" 

I'm having so much fun academically.

Thankfully, I'm traveling again in a couple of weeks. This time, to London! The original plan was to attempt to stalk out the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 premiere in London on November 11th, but seeing as how I'm such a good student and refuse to miss class on Thursday night (but I'm totally fine with skipping class Monday? TBD), Mallory and I will be departing from Italand on the morning of the 12th, a few hours after our friends, whom I will hopefully meet up with at our London hostel, assuming the plane doesn't break in half in mid-air. I assure you, for I have read many a Wikipedia article on plane crashes, for an aereo made of plastic, this is not impossible.

I'm excited for London, I'm excited to be all tourist-y. When we went to Spain this summer, I was so  worried about being immediately recognized as a tourist. I was very adamant about everyone in our dysfunctional family speaking as much Spanish as possible, I even faked a pretty sweet Spanish accent (thanks, Iker) but by the end of the first week, we were being addressed initially in English, so I said, "FUCK YOU, SPAIN" and started using complex forms, idiomatic phrases en inglés just for FUN. Because, as it occurs, I am extremely proud to be a sort-of American. So, yes, by the time we were in Italy, I didn't even bother with Italian. Especially in Rome. Inhabited mostly by Asian tour groups and nuns.

I'm excited to once again be in a place where the native language is English, even if it is a country that's nothing more than the dried husk America came from (--"30 ROCK"). I'm excited to compare Americans to the English, to judge and sneer. I'm excited to take pictures in those ridiculous photobooths everyone loves to pose in like a bunch of d-bags. I'm excited to go to/break into Buckingham Palace. I'm excited to go to the theatre the Harry Potter premiere was at the night before, stand amongst the stampeded "I <3 YOU DANIEL" posters and panties, and to bask in the fact that, mere hours before, magic was there.

I've yet to book a ticket to Madrid. It's proving difficult to make it there this semester. There's a possibility I could go for the Valencia game on 4th/5th of December (so, from 3/12-6/12), but I'd have to convince enough people to accompany me. I would go with one other person, but I certainly wouldn't go alone. I don't know what I'd do if I was close enough to actually see Xabi without someone that is not affiliated with the law restraining me...

All I do here is talk about shit that has nothing to do with anything. 

Let me see, what I have I done recently that isn't lame...

....

....

....

....

Last night, we celebrated Halloween à la Italiana à la Americana. To subsequently be celebrated tonight, Saturday night, and Sunday night (which, if some of you don't recall), is actual Halloween. Our friend Maggie, who was a lovely host despite being intoxicated, had an awesome party in her awesome apartment until her opposite-of-awesome neighbor prompted her and her roommates to kick us all out. I had THE BEST POTATOES I HAVE EVER HAD IN MY YOUNG LIFE:

 

IT LOOKS DISNASTY BUT IT IS NOT. IT WAS SO GOOD. IT WAS JUST POTATO PLUS 600 DIFFERENT TYPES OF ONION. I LOVE ONION. I SUFFER THROUGH ONION BREATH BECAUSE I NEED ONION.

Honestly, that was the highlight of my night. Aren't you proud of me for busting my camera out for the first time in a month? Maybe I shouldn't have let several drunk people handle it, but, thankfully, Xabier Esteban Ferrara is safe and sound. After the party, Mal, Ellen, and some of Ellen's ridiculous roommates...what did we even do? We were standing around for an hour or 3 being obnoxious in the streets...

 ----Mass exodus out of Maggie's apartment. No, mass doesn't even begin to describe it.

 

----This kid named Lucifer's ass (the one Mallory almost has her nose down) was sticking out all night. And I've never seen anyone suck at the Waka Waka dance so much. I'm the most uncoordinated fucker on earth and I can dance that shit. This is the same person who thinks Shakira is fat. 

He and I are done professionally.

...wrestling off creepy alcoholic stalker homeless lady until we decided to go sit around at Ellen's apartment. 

I hate that everything on Blogger is in Italian. When will people get it into their head that I don'tuh SPEAKUH Italiannnuh. 

Edwin booked my flight home for Christmas recently. I'm getting out of here on the 22nd and I'll be back in Bologna on the 8th, I believe. It's just over a two week-long break, but that's much longer than I expected I'd have. I believe my last exam is a week or two after I get back, and then GOD ONLY KNOWS what I'm doing until spring semester classes start up again. Hopefully a whole lot of

Essentially, the only recurring emotion for the past few weeks has been this:

I miss Lost.

Judge me, I dare you. I can school you in Lost trivia and that's much more interesting at dinner parties (what, you don't do dinner parties?) than knowing about how to make pizza or like, political science and other NERD things.

And I'm embarrassing myself, bye goons.

I Have a Blog?

For a while there, I was doing really well keeping up with this business. Don't crucify me for having a life*.



I'm trying to remember what I even wrote about the last time I blogged, but even reading through that horribly-written post doesn't trigger any memories. That was exactly two weeks ago. I know that because I just looked at my calendar.

I was supposed to start my class today (well, yesterday), and I just found out I got the time wrong. It goes from 9.00-11.00, not 11.00-13.00, therefore my wonderful plan of waking up at 9, showering, getting dressed, watching The Office and then making my way downtown (walking fast), has been suddenly and cruelly shot to hell.  I feel bad. But not bad enough to show up to my first Italian lecture an hour late. Obnoxious.

My roommates are missing. Luana got home Sunday night, left 10 minutes later, and didn't come back until long after I passed out after a day of too much internet, not enough studying. I found her sleeping on the couch on Monday morning, in the same clothes she was wearing the night before, as if she were afraid to tiptoe into the room and into bed at 3 a.m. in fear of waking me. Dude, when I get home at 3 a.m., I'm sorry, but I am not sleeping on the couch. And if I cannot find my favorite pajama pants, I will turn the lights on. See, in America, we get things done. I thought you Italians were supposed to be a straightforward people.

Then, the next morning, she doesn't wake up until 10.30, even after telling me the night before that she had a 9.00 class, saying "hi" for two seconds, and then leaving again. I was out all day, came home at 1.00 and she still wasn't back. Everybody hates me.

And my other roommate. Well, she left last week to tend to her boyfriend, who is apparently in need of some emotional support, as he is tending to his sick ugly fat cat. Haven't seen her for a week, and she's been saying she'll be back domani, sì, torno domani, domani torno, for the past three days. I'm beginning to think they are planning some sort of escape, in which they leave the country (or the city, at least) and leave me with €1300+ of monthly rent to pay. That would be a great con.



Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Aside from this, the roommates have been great. I'm very lucky I'm not living with crazy people. And honestly, I'd rather Lea go visit the sick cat than have the sick cat come to us. I'm allergic to disgusting things.

Apart from that bit of irrelevant information, I haven't been doing much. Pre-session courses have just wrapped up. The final assignment from my class was actually quite challenging. The objective was to "perform," I guess you could say, a mock final exam. In Italy, final exams are oral (every once in a while with a complimentary written exam, but almost always with an oral component), and are essentially the only thing comprising your final grade. That's it. Finito. If you fuck up the final exam, yes, you can re-take it, but if you fuck up the final exam an infinite amount of times, you're screwed. There's no busy-work there to pick up the slack on your big, fat FAIL. For our "mock exam," we had to come up with three questions on any random topic, anything we'd learned about in our years of education, anything we knew well, and develop three responses to them. It was a chore, to say the least, and not completely like a real final exam (for one, it was too short - finals are usually 20-30 minutes long, longer, if you're unlucky). But then it was over and I was happy.

Then came the finals. I believe I performed quite extremely very brilliantly on my two exams that are very important and nice and challenging and things (opposite day).

I'm walking around Bologna on a daily basis with tennis shoes with holes in them. I look like one of the bearded men with the labradors that like to drink beer and sleep in suitcases on my street. Or at least, I will, once I my shoes rip in half mid-passeggiata and I'm forced to walk around barefoot like an Other.

This weekend, we made a day trip to an old Renaissance town called Urbino. It's about a two-and-a-half-hour bus ride away from Bologna. I was expecting a ghastly experience like our trip to Ravenna, but it was actually really fun. I think that's due mostly to the weather; it was a lot cooler this weekend, cold and wet - much more conducive to my frigid personality. Urbino looked like a set on Monty Python. It was all cobblestone, unlike Bologna, and the whole city is literally enclosed by walls, also unlike Bologna (which technically is enclosed by walls - but it's more metaphoric now, seeing as how the walls don't exist everywhere anymore). It's very quaint, and quiet. I got to swing. And I finally got a good, classic, Italian view that all us gringos picture when we think Italy. Rolling hills, patches of forest, old houses, palaces. Yeah, I went in a palace. Meh, I'd rather go see Versailles. I know my man Louis loved his gold. There was no gold in Federico III's place. Just...old tubs. It was cool, but...just tubby.

I can't wait to go to Madrid. I've already been, but I'd like to experience the city under vastly different circumstances. A) Not jet-lagged, b) not at 95ºF in the morning, c) not with my dysfunctional family (sorry, I love you guys, and you know I had a blast, but we were in bed by like, 21.00 every night!!! And no one would go to bars with me!!!), d) not with my shit shoes. Real Madrid (I won't even talk about what a hot mess they are right now) has some incredible games coming up once mid-November rolls around. The Madrid derby, Bilbao, Sevilla, Villarreal, Valencia, and then of course, the game I'd like to say I'm going to be watching front-and-center, El Clásico in April, and I'd kill a puppy to be able to make it to at least two of those.

I'm also considering going to London for the world premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Uno. Chances of my licking Daniel Radcliffe's pallid face: 0%, but just to be able to watch the film in London, in English, and a week earlier than all my fellow Potterheads in America (just to be a bitch), would be the highlight of my life. It's just a matter of finding someone to share a hotel room with me (looking at you, Nicola Paracchini).

I was talking to my friend Tati last night, and what she said about choosing to remain, for the most part, in Italy for first semester, is a good idea. That was my plan originally (I've stayed true to it), but I feel like time is going by so fast here - before I know, I'll be home for Christmas, and I'd hate to have to fit all of my traveling into five months. Granted, I can't see all of Europe, but is it too much of a stretch to pretend I will? People frown upon my fantastical brain, I think it's healthy. Realistically, I'd like to at least be able to see Signe, Pascale and Fabian in Norway, Switzerland and Germany, respectively. And this I can justify with "strong emotional connections", that way my dad won't freeze my accounts! Plus, Madrid and London, and Barcelona in the summer, and Greece to visit KPike. And then trips around Italy, which only cost like €3, let's be honest. That's only like, half of my life savings.



SHUT UP, CONSCIENCE!!!!!!!!!!

COMUNQUE, I'm really excited for tonight. A bunch of us are getting together and making dinner (Maried will be taking creeper pics, drinking, and setting the table) and then going to Soda Pops, one of the local bars/clubs/I don't really know what it is. Speaking of Soda Pops, I need to sing karaoke again (which Italians take really seriously. Singing a tone-deaf version of "I Love Rock 'N Roll", while entertaining in Big World, will only get you smoldering stares, judgmental reactions, smh...It's like, the difference between the American Idol contestants who show up, are prepared, and sing well, and the contestants who show up wearing a Big Bird costume and sing A Whole New World like Carrie Underwood took a severe beating to her esophagus).

To finish off, I posted this on my LJ and I figured, since it's a simplified version of things I've noticed (how original) in my month here (it was officially a month yesterday!), I'd save myself the trouble and just copy+paste it, like a boss:

"1. When talking to guys from Naples, it's not a great idea to bring up Gomorrah or the Mafia, even if it's completely hilarious
2. ERASMUS bars suck balls
3. McDonald's is actually really amazing and way better than American McDonald's. Unless you like it nasty. This is probably just me trying to justify the fact that I have McDonald's once a week. I may have used the phrase "WoW tHiS aCtUaLlY tAsTeS hEaLtHiEr" more than once
4. Old people are assholes.
5. Wearing college apparel is ew. Wearing it in public is ewier.
6. So apparently open container laws don't exist; Americans are party-poopers.
7. Italian TV is not Italian.
8. They only show the Italian teams' CL games at bars (WHAT?? WHY?? HOW ODD), so I guess they just all have to get eliminated then please.
9. People don't have children here. They instead own dogs that they put in strollers and take everywhere.
10. Bologna is like, Little Spain. Yummers
11. Italians do not like their current immigrant situation. My roommate ranted to me about it for like a half-hour the other day. Srs bsns
12. Rum and pear do NOT go together. I do not speak from experience
13. KebaP > Italian food, those damn Turks are gonna turn me into a whale
14. I wore my Spain jersey around the other day and I'm surprised I only got like 10 hurtful comments
15. Every Italian man that doesn't have a lady slobbering on his face is gay. Swear to god
16. I'm sorry but I like that in the US of America, things have the option of being jumbo-sized. Everything is mini here and I don't like it, I don't like it ONE BIT!!!!!
17. Sometimes people speak Spanish to me on the street and it catches me off-guard so I respond in Spanglishtalian
18. This shutter bsns is awesome
19. There are Roman ruins everywhere. Selfish
20. Don't ever do spaghetti with bolognese. I guess that's like, wrong or something. Dad."

K bye.

* = The fact that, as of late, my life revolves around LOST (surprise, surprise), gelato and McDonald's, will be ignored.