I'm Dreaming of a Fogged Christmas...

Well, school is out. I wish I could say over, but I am beginning to feel that school will never end. Christmas break has begun and Hanukkah is half over. December is a weird month...it seems to drag on and on, yet it's half over...

I have escaped London for a bit. I am "holidaying" in Bury St. Edmund's with good friends. It is wonderfully relaxing and just what I needed after a horrible past few months in London.

My departure of the UK is drawing closer and I'm not too happy about that. I am completely torn between the life I could have here and the life I know I have in Trinidad. Not that I really have a choice at this point. The plane tickets are purchased and I am not registered for classes next term. Still so freaking frustrating.

I have so many plans to accomplish in the next couple of weeks. I'm very excited for all the things I am going to experience! I guess I'll just think about that for now instead of my impending departure.

Time is running out...

I am actually writing this blog to pass the time until my laundry is done, so sorry if this ends up being scatterbrained. I miss my mother's washing machines sooooooooooooo much. High efficiency, fast, blue...maybe blue isn't that important but it is pretty nifty! Mainly I miss the dryer, my clothes have been in the dryer for almost 2 hours, we'll see if they're done soon.

So my time in London (supposed to be till 2012, but I guess life had other ideas) is quickly coming to an end. School will be out Dec. 10th and my flight back to the US is on Jan. 5th. Trying to get everything I wanted to do...uh...done.

I am packing again. If there was one thing in life that I could go without doing ever again it probably wouldn't be packing, but it'd, y'know, be up there. Maybe paying for shipping would be higher...

It has definitely turned to winter in London town. Wellies and umbrellas are recommended for any time outside. And OH MY GOSH!!! It is soooo freaking cold...and I've lived through blizzards while in a house with no electricity. And with all this rain my skylight (the one I fell in love with when I first moved into this flat) is leaking double time. Walking under it is like Chinese water torture.

Well, I think it's time to put the wellies back on and walk to the laundry room. Oh yeah, forgot to mention the laundry room is in another building, another fact I took for granted with the washer and dryer my parents own and keep inside the house, geniuses they are!

Every Woman Has A Coby.

Aaaalllll my life I have fantasized about marrying a charming Scotsman, but if that plan should fail a nice Englishman was second on the list. I had plans of living in London with him in a posh flat over looking Regents, or Hyde, something of that ilk. And we'd have adorably UK children with names like Callum and Eloise.

Well, now that I am here, all I can dream about are American men. They talk about football(pig skin, mind you!), laugh at fart jokes, and generally don't dress nicer than me(which makes me feel better about myself :-p). Most American girls are probably saying "eewww" right now, but honestly, (hate me if you like) American boys>UK boys. It's just the way it is. I'll say to each his own, but in my mind my statement rings truth. I have found most Englishman to be stuck up and rude. Prove me wrong boys?

Are you wondering who Coby is? Ha, well, he's my current "dream man" though I think it's only because I really like his band and the freaking cute lead singer is married(but I am so happy for you, Max and Sherri!!). I'm obviously straying from the original meaning of "Every Man Has A Molly" but I know we've all had that ideal person who we will most likely never meet and, in truth, we've no idea if they are even someone we could stand to have a proper chat with. Since I am met with douchers and jerks whilst on the rainy island, I will dream about a nice drummer boy from America. Until I meet my actual man (or if you're up for a date, call me, Coby ;-D) I'll just wistfully sigh and play "Mara and Me" once again.

The Kids Aren't Alright.

I have become more and more weary of British children. Most notably my next door neighbors small child who likes to spend its days screaming and pounding on our adjoining walls. Precious, I know! Not being a parent myself, I can't say much on what is "normal" or "right" child rearing, however, there are a few startling (for me anyways) patterns I have noticed here.

1. 6 year olds riding in the pram/push chair/ stroller/whatever you feel like calling it!
Seriously. Shouldn't these kids be learning how to, uh, y'know, walk? I understand that London is a huge city and the possibility of kidnapping is pretty high, but they did invent things like: hand holding, child leashes, teaching your child not to wander off. Call me a free thinker, but when my child is old enough to walk for more than 5 feet I'm not going to pander laziness. Not to mention that I feel slightly embarrassed for those poor kids all strapped in like mama's little boy...awkward.

2. Extreme rudeness. Okay, okay! That's universal. But, I'm talking about private school attending, posh, rich kids who think that just because they're ugly, furry boots are designer they own the ground everyone is fortunate enough to walk on. They're constantly on their mobile, whiney as can be, sidewalk hoggers, and they're usually in droves. They're a frightening bunch when you're face to face with 5+ snobby nosed, whine-bags in Dior.

3. They do more adult activities than me. No I'm not jealous. It's just bizarre to see 18 year olds in the pub, 16 year olds smoking, and under 16 year olds getting condoms. Now you'll call me old fashioned. And that is a-okay with me because: the adult drinkers are far less annoying than the young kids at the bar just oh-so-giddy because they can actually be there, there already are copious amounts of smokers here and that is gross enough, but these poor kids can now start there road to lung cancer before they get to uni! And I don't think I need to explain why the third thing is upsetting. But, then again, I guess we should be glad they're being safe? Definitely NOT condoning that behavior at all.

I could go on, but it's all pretty generalized. I'm just having a bad week with the youth of this nation.

A Walk Through Hell

Well it's about time! I woke up this morning to rain! It's finally acting like England out there. I've got my wellies on and I've donned a scarf. I'd be more excited about this but I'm walking to school today :-( to do math :-(( till 4:15 :-(((

My crappy vacation is over and I am going back to school today. Not to upset about it yet. Ask me again tomorrow at 6:30 when I wake up and have to walk to Marylebone to make it to class by 8:30. *sigh* I'm getting a new Oyster soon!!

I'm going to start listing my current song. I'll probably forget, but here it goes!

Today's song: "Got No Water" by Matisyahu. I dig irony.

Whoa(woe)!!

Yup, dropped the ball...again. Sorry.

Good news: I did get to go to the rugby game. I had a blast even though the team I was rooting for lost. I was super proud of myself for being able to navigate my way there (more and more lately I am becoming the navigator of trips outside of Camden, go me!).

I also completed my first term in London. Seriously. I managed an A and two B grades. Not exactly thrilled about that, but I could've done worse.

Bad news: I got to experience thievery. No, I am not the thief. My purse was stolen from me when I was having dinner at a Subway restaurant. It only had inside: my bank cards, my student ID, my driver's license, my flat key, my Oyster, my SS card, y'know, nothing big...
I have it all worked out by now except that I need to go to the US embassy to get a new SS card. Major inconvenience and I'm now slightly paranoid but I'm safe and nothing too valuable was stolen.

I'm also now the third member of the band "Jack Darcy". My flat mate started the band and now I am honored with the title of "backup singer and synthesizer". I'm glad that I'm somewhat trained musically, haha. I've only been playing piano since I was about 7 and am a classically trained singer, little things that help along the way. I'm curious to see what becomes of this. Still can't decide what I want more: rock stardom or rock photographer stardom....they both are quite enticing. If I could figure out a way to do both I would be ever so happy!

I am currently on term break and am trying to figure out what to do with all this time on my hands. It's not working too well. Tomorrow I plan on playing Sims 3, because that's a great use of my time. Tomorrow night I may possibly attend a Paulo Nutini concert, most likely not though. Not that I'd be too upset about that.

I am starting to go into America withdrawals. I dream nightly of Taco Bell, BWW, real SUVs and a place where "y'all" is more acceptable than "init?". I'm really settling in over here, but wow, I could really go for a Gordita and a Superbowl party. Right y'all?


Anyways, I can't be bovvered to go on any furver, init? Ta.

Tragedy.

To say today was a "bad day" would only add insult to injury.

Today is the England vs. Slovenia football match. I bought my ticket for this event at the end of July. I had been waiting to get an e-mail from the activities director in order to find out how to pick up my ticket for the game today.
I was in full panic-mode yesterday as I still had not heard anything from the director. So I sent him an e-mail and got an immediate response of:
"I am currently away from the office on annual leave. I return to my desk on Monday September 14th 2009 when I look forward to being able to answer your enquiry." (gee thanks!)

I ask some of my friends if they had tickets and I got the response:
"Oh yeah! We got e-mails ages ago, you just have to pick them up at school. Call them tomorrow and then stop by, I'm sure someone will be there to help you."

I woke up early this morning and I called the school. No answer. I call again. Still no answer. I call a third time. No answer.
It's nearly 10 at this point and I'm getting really nervous. I decide to go to school and hope someone is there. By 10:30 I am standing in the foyer of the school's main building and there are indeed people there. I am directed from front desk to admissions, from one admissions person to another. After trying for half an hour to get a hold of the director the admissions adviser puts me on the phone with Wembley Stadium where I am put on hold for 45 minutes. Figuring that this phone call is futile, everyone at the admissions office tells me to go to Wembley Stadium and ask if they have my ticket.

At noon I am walking to Baker Street Station to ride the underground 10 miles north of Central London. I make it and as soon as I walk out of the station I see the great stadium. I walk there, follow confusing signs for 20 minutes before finally finding the will call office. There I am told they can do nothing for me as I have no proof that I bought a ticket. However, I am "welcome to buy another ticket to see the game!" Hmm, let's see, £30 ticket...groceries...hard choice.

I walk back to the Tube station, choking back tears, and make my way back to Baker Street Station. Somehow I ended up on the wrong train and ended up riding the tube for an hour trying to get back to Marylebone so I can take a bus home.

I arrive back home around 2:30 p.m. to find one of my roommates and her friend getting ready to go to the game. Just what I wanted to see...

Even sadder still, if the director isn't back until the 14th, I will most likely miss the rugby game (Sept. 12th) I purchased a ticket for since I don't have a ticket for that either.

But hey! I can get my homework finished tonight! ...oh joy...