Catching Up

So my evil academic project is done, pause for a moment of celebration. This means that I actually have time now to update my blog. I really am sorry it has been so lax as of late but trust me, I had a lot of stuff going on that needed to be attended to especially considering how long my entries usually are (boring I know). I didn't want to half ass my entries and so I haven't had any. But enough dwelling on my tardiness, time to start the catch up.

I am not really going to bother a whole lot with work the week after I got back from my solo holiday. The only noteworthy event was me calling numerous prop hire companies trying to get as many fridges (yes, like refrigerators) as humanly possible. This was mostly noteworthy because as anyone who knows me can attest, I usually go into a panic at the thought of calling people I don't know. However, this was incredibly easy and even somewhat fun. My favorite moment was the following dialogue between me and one prop hire man:

Man: You're from Dallas?
Me: Um, no.
Man: Then where are you from?
Me: Indiana.
Man: That's the same thing. It's all cowboy country.
Me: Not really.

Other than that, typical BAC and I still want to kill the children. Class was about class (haha) in Britain. We learned that class doesn't matter but it does. Seriously. We also got to take a test to determine our class. Seriously. We were also told that you can go up to anyone in the UK and ask them about their class. My co-workers were appalled when I asked them if it was true. Way to go Arcadia, way to go.

Friday June 26th right from work I left for Dublin to visit one of my best friends from high school. Her name is Sarah but from here on out she shall be known as Skip since that is the unfortunate nickname our Honors English 9 teacher gave her to distinguish from the two other Sarahs in the class and somehow it stuck. She is also interning though at a law firm because she is hardcore like that.

The trip went easy enough at first. I got to the train station just down the hill from BAC no problem and after just a momentary confusion about how to get collect my tickets from the machine, I had time to browse the shops before going to my platform. I found US Weekly which brought on joy not seen since the Britney-K. Fed divorce announcement. I also got 50p off the magazine for taking the MJ memorial newspaper. Whatever, 50p is 50p. Gatwick was the second stop on the line so the ride was easy and quick.

A few words about the inefficiency of Ryanair/Gatwick Airport. My online check-in boarding pass said I had to get it stamped to prove I had all the necessary visa/passport requirements. This meant I still had to wait in this enormously long line at the Ryanair desk in the terminal with all the people who needed to check bags. Why there wasn't a special express line for visa check I have no idea but I got fairly irritated as I saw all benefit to online-check in slip away. Finally, when I got to security, I noticed no one was taking off their shoes so I just assumed for some reason you didn't have to. Wrong. There was a second metal detector for shoes after you went through the first one and thought you were going to be allowed to exit. Why they couldn't just have you put your shoes on the first belt with everything else, again I don't know.

My flight was delayed by 30 minutes which turned out to be good because it allowed me to find a Pret A Manger and get some dinner before boarding. For those of you who don't know, Pret is a somewhat upscale (by that I mean expensive) sandwich and coffee chain that is as omnipresent in London and the UK as Starbucks in America. I got the cheapie ham & cheese toastie and my new obsession, salt & vinegar potato chips. I got on the flight no problem, got a window seat, and only had one other person in my three seat row. All in all, a success despite the garish yellow decor of the plane interior.

Here is where the story gets really interesting. I had Skip's roommate's phone number, the address for her apartment complex, plus the various codes to get to her room if all else failed. I got into a taxi since it was too late for the bus to be running and handed him the address I had written down. He seemed confused so I tried to call Skip but it told me I didn't have the authorization to call the number. Great. The taxi driver gets me to the correct road and drops me off outside of what he claims are the only apartments on the street so they must be the right place. Greater. He drives off and I almost immediately come to the realization that I left my phone in the backseat. Greatest. There I am at 11 at night in Dublin without any means of communication and no idea where I was. I refused to panic though and found a pay phone to try and call the number again. The phone eats my money. Ok, still not panicking. He got me to the right road so I just have to pick a direction and start walking. I do and find a student apartment complex called Shanowen House. Not Shanowen Square like Skip said but I try the entry code anyway. The door opens though begrudgingly. It immediately becomes apparent to me I am in the wrong place since all the windows are open, thus allowing anyone to enter, and no lights are on. Hey, at least I could sneak in and sleep there if nothing else. I do however notice a great deal more activity from the apartments next door. Lo and behold, it's Shanowen Square and I find Skip's apartment with no more difficulty. She is thrilled to see that I am ok since when I didn't ever call her she got really freaked. It was a great moment of my life being safe with her.

We talked, catching up and laughing, for a few hours before finally becoming too tired to go anymore. I took her extra pillow out to the loveseat in her combined living room/kitchen and made myself an L-shaped bed with the aid of a chair. I was just laying down when in burst her extremely drunk roommates accompanied by friends. Immediately, they start screaming "WHERE'S CATY?!". Apparently, my coming was a highly anticipated event.I doubt in my exhausted condition and dying-my-hair pajamas shirt I lived up to the hype. I relocated to Skip's room to sleep on her folded comforter while the drunkies desecrated the living room/kitchen.

The rest of my Dublin story will follow in the next entry. Don't want to overwhelm you guys too much. The photos that go with this entry are meant to illustrate Shanowen Square where I spent two out of my three nights in Dublin.

Solo Holiday in Cornwall: The Second Bit

So I have to apologize for how long this entry has taken. My life has been work, travel, paper, sleep, and eat for the past few weeks and nothing else. I will catch up though, I promise.

I awoke early on Sunday to get the YMCA's cheap and rather pathetic breakfast before starting off for St. Michael's Mount. I had decided rather than take a bus to Marazion that I would hike along the Southwest Coast Path for two and a half miles to get there. After some initial hardship with actually finding the path, I set off on my way. It was a lovely, bright, sunny day so perfect for being on the sea. However, I ran into an issue. The path came to a set of stairs...that were blocked by bars. The group of people in front of me climbed around the door by climbing up the slope next to the stairs and then going back over the wall. I, however, decided to take a different route. I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my pants, and set off down some stairs to the beach. In high tide, this area is completely covered with water, however at low tide, it is a wide expanse of sand and pleasant for walking. I got to squish my toes in the sand and walked in the water when my feet wanted some frigid cold refreshment. Low tide is apparently THE time to walk your dog as practically everyone I saw had one or two with them.

St. Michael's Mount is an island in the bay with a tall cliff at the top of which sits a castle. There is a small village of about 30 people at the base of the cliff but really the castle is the majority. Since it was low tide, I crossed to the Mount on the Giant's Causeway that is covered with water at high tide. The legend goes that the Mount used to be home to the giant Cormoran and that Jack, of course, had to slay the giant to keep him from eating the townspeople. I bought my ticket and after watching an intro film about the Mount, I made my way up. All the signs said that only those in good health should attempt the climb so I thought it would be very difficult. It wasn't. You just followed the path up the hill and it wasn't very steep or far up. Along the way there were excellent views of the bay, gorgeous flowers, and ruins of medieval military lookouts from when the Mount was a fortress.

The best part about the castle is the rocky sloped lawn in front of it when you reach the end of the path. There is a wall around it with cannons with a great breeze always blowing and lots of grassy spots to sit and enjoy the view which is one of the best I have seen. I sat on a corner of the wall and looked out to sea for a good while before I went in to the castle. Ok, so I had a photo shoot too because I liked the wind blowing my hair. Don't judge.

The castle itself is underwhelming. Of course, it couldn't help but be next to all the other castles I have been to but still I expected a little more. The same family has lived at the Mount since the 1500s but the conservation of the Mount falls to the National Trust aka the blue bloods can't afford their castle anymore. There was construction going on on the North Terrace but I fell in love with the South Terrace. It is the perfect place to have a party or a wedding with lots of space, castle architecture, and the previously mentioned beautiful scenery. The castle interiors were pretty standard and boring with the exception of the mummified Egyptian cat. Apparently, collecting mummified animals was an acceptable pastime in Victorian England. Who knew?

After spending a little more time on the castle lawn, I decided to descend to look for lunch. By this time, the tide had started to come in. At high tide, a ferry service starts to and from the Mount for 1.5 pounds. The ferry had already started by the time I got down to the causeway, however some people (in direct violation of the sign posted nearby) were wading across since the water wasn't too deep yet. I had the foresight to wear my bathing suit under my clothes, so I whipped off my socks, shoes,and pants, hiked up my purse, and set off down the flooded causeway. I was not going to pay 1.5 pounds when I didn't have to. It was remarkably simple with the water getting thigh deep at its deepest and I reached end of the causeway with no harm done. I was the last person smart enough or stupid enough to attempt the crossing, but since nothing bad happened, I say smart enough. I had a good laugh at the saps who took the ferry before moving on to find a pasty.

Cornish pasties are amazing. They are portable pies filled with all manner of deliciousness. The one I got had steak, potatoes, and carrots in it. Completely delicious, filling, and not to mention cheap. I also got some chocolate Cornish ice cream to top off the meal before setting off again. The beach was flooded with the tide, so I took the path this time. It was wonderful to be walking in the sun on the beach surrounded by the beauty of Cornwall. Other than the unfortunate sight of a naked bather, the walk back was pleasant and uneventful. By the time I got back to Penzance, I was so hot that I was totally ready to jump off the seawall into the English Channel.

Of course, when I got to my favorite section of the sea wall, there was a crowd of obnoxious teens, tweens, and families there. I tried my best to ignore them as I disrobed, hid my purse beneath my clothing, and without a word jumped into the sea. Let me tell you, it is as cold as you would think it to be. Also, make sure to hold your top and blow out your nose or else your top will come up and you nose fill with saltwater. Not that that happened to me or anything. Luckily, I fixed my top beneath the water before anyone noticed. I jumped off two more times but the water was so cold and my stuff so vulnerable that I didn't actually stay in the water very long. Plus the stupid teeny girls squealing about how high up it was (it was like five feet above the water) made me severely irritated. I set off back to the YMCA to shower before seeking food.

Here again I ran into problems with traveling alone. After showering, I went back into town and spent an hour trying to find somewhere to eat. I can never make up my mind and being alone didn't help. Everywhere was too much of a bar or too expensive or wasn't clear about where to order. Finally, desperate, I settled on a Thai restaurant and had some fried rice that was supposed to have soy sauce but didn't. I was feeling down and slightly ill after my day and then the lack of sustenance so I went back to the hostel and went to bed. At 8:30. Even my middle aged Asian woman roommate was stunned I was going to bed that early. Whatever, I was tired and feeling lonely. I was also woken up a few hours later by fireworks for an unknown reason which made me incredibly cross as well.

I checked out right at 8 the next morning and set off for the bus station to explore the Minack Theatre and Land's End. I got on the special summertime only open top 300 bus and expected to enjoy the ride to Porthcurno where the Theatre is. Instead, there was severe wind, I got smacked in the face by tree branches, and the driver skipped Porthcurno and dropped us straight off at Land's End. Land's End town looked very pretty and quaint however the bus dropped us at Land's End complex which is a tacky tourist trap if ever I saw one. It houses 3-D attractions, much too expensive gift shops, and a few restaurants. It also wasn't open when we arrived and I hadn't had breakfast. I went and sat on a rock around the side of the complex to stare at the sea and cliffs until it opened.

Land's End is a lovely area. Gorgeous hills, cliffs, rocks, sea, and heath but the complex is just annoying. Once it opened, I could hear the 3-D shows going with their cackling witches and Knights of the Round Table battling. I got a cheese and onion pasty from one of the shops and then left the complex to walk along the cliffs. They have a spot where you can have your picture taken with the official Land's End signpost with the distance to your hometown but it was stupidly expensive so I passed. I was more interested in the plaques that had apparently been erected for the millennium with resolutions and promises by visitors to Land's End. The theme of most of them was to love as much as possible but there were a few interesting ones like the people who ran a home for retired show pappilons and the mother who wanted to take her family to Euro Disney.

This whole time I am surrounded by people there with their spouses, friends, children, etc. and I started to feel really alone. I saw the distance from Land's End to NYC, factored in hundreds of extra miles for Indiana, and freaked out a little about just how far I was from home and those that I love. I decided to skip the Minack, head back to Penzance on the next bus, and catch an earlier train back to London. I had had enough of being by myself plus my backpack was REALLY heavy. I still had two hours before the next bus so I wandered down to the metals craft shop in the farm right by the complex. There was a kitty outside so I stopped to pet it and got to talking with the man who made the crafts in the shop. His name was Edward and he was a very nice older man. He immediately, of course, ascertained that I was from America and started to ask me the requisite questions about how I came to be in the UK. Meanwhile, we had moved into his shop and I was looking at his rings. He told me he could custom make me any ring I liked so I chose a star ring.

I spent the rest of the time until my bus watching Edward make my ring at his work desk and talking about his days as footmen for the family living on the Mount, how he came to make silver jewelry, and the children's books he writes about Big Head the Pirate Cat. He was very nice, explaining everything to me as he did it, and just in general making me feel a whole lot better than I had felt the whole day. He also had a cat named Marley who had no fur on one of its ears so Edward coats it in suntan lotion every day to keep Marley from getting sunburn. I figure anyone willing to sunblock a cat's ear is my kind of person. I thanked him very much for the ring and talking to me and he told me I was wonderful and to have a good time the rest of my days in the UK. Feeling much better, I went to wait for the bus which came promptly and to my utter delight a train was waiting in the station to go back to London thus getting me home at 7:30 instead of 11:45. This also allowed me to relax, settle in, and put my stuff in order before going to bed which wouldn't have happened had I gotten home when I was originally supposed to.

Though the weekend ended on a somewhat sour note, I still thoroughly enjoyed the R&R. Cornwall is an absolutely beautiful place with so much to see and experience that I didn't even get to do. It restored my mind and spirits a great deal as well as teaching me that I don't like traveling on my own. It is alright during the day when there is plenty to do but once everything closes and you are left on your own, it gets kind of sad, at least for me. Activities such as a movie or the theatre are needed to prevent ennui from taking over. If ever I seek to travel alone again, I will be much more prepared, but really I would just prefer to have others with me. As long as they wanted to do exactly what I wanted to do of course :)

Solo Holiday in Cornwall: The First Bit

I awoke at 5:30 to shower, dress, and eat breakfast before catching the Tube at 6:30. I figured I'd need to be there an hour ahead of time to validate my BritRail pass and to board the train. Man, was I wrong. I got there, validated my pass, and then looked at the departure board. At London Paddington, they will only tell you which platform your train is boarding from after is has been completely cleaned and prepared for departure. This can mean you don't get your gate until a few minutes before your train is supposed to leave. I feel this is a stupid system that causes much needless stress as the clock ticks closer to your departure time and there is still no gate for you. So I had nothing to do but sit there in the freezing cold station on the frigid metal bench with all the other poor travelers hoping to get their gate in time. It was a fun time, let me tell you.

I, thankfully, got on my train in time and had two seats to myself the entire way minus about an hour when an obnoxious curly haired young teen boy sat next to me and slept on his tray table. The train took 5.5 hours and made lots of stops, so who was sitting around me was constantly changing as I was one of the very few to go all the way from London to Penzance. It wasn't bad really, very smooth with lots of gorgeous scenery to look at. I slept the first two hours laying across my seats and then read or listened to music the rest of the way.

We arrived in Penzance and I have to say it is a very nice town. It's main street is Market Jew Street which oddly enough has nothing to do with actual Jews but is taken from Cornish or something. There are lots of cute shops and bakeries and pubs and it was a straight shot down that street to my hostel. I couldn't check in until 5 so I left my bag in storage at the hostel and then took off to explore.

I made straight for the Promenade, a wide brick pedestrian thoroughfare right against the coast with benches for sitting and gazing at the ocean. I preferred to climb down some steps to the sea wall a few feet below the Promenade and sit dangling my feet above the clear water. I was shocked to see that I could see all the way to the bottom, being so used to the murky Atlantic of the Carolinas. Of course, this water was much, much colder, but that comes later. I just sat there for awhile taking in Mount's Bay and the surrounding cliffs and hillsides that contain the three towns of the bay Penzance, Newlyn, and Marazion. It was so stunning that i seriously teared up. I am getting so sentimental while I am over here.

After hanging out on the sea wall, I continued along the Promenade and passed the Jubilee Pool, an art deco enclosed seawater pool left over from the 30s. It cost to get in though so I just decided to jump in the ocean for free on my own, as is to come later. There was also the token war memorial right next to the Jubilee and a path leading down and around the Jubilee. I found my rocks on this path and sat there feeling like The Little Mermaid. I dipped my feet in the water and !@#$%, it was cold. It is just as cold as you would imagine it to be, much too cold to get in on the cloudy, windy day that it was. It was nice to just sit there on the rock and hear the sea crash around me and look out to St. Michael's Mount across the bay.

I eventually came to the quay and the end of the Promenade. There was a cafe and tacky beach shop called Buccaneers. I found it comforting to know that tacky beach shops selling overprices sea shells and pirate flags are international rather than being a solely Carolina thing. I then went to the cafe next door to get a snack. I picked up a Sprite out of the fridge and ordered a caramel slice, which is a shortbread cookie topped with a layer of solid caramel. The lady behind the counter looked at me funny and asked "Are you sure?" as if this was the strangest request she had ever had. I didn't know what else to do but say yes and pay. It was delicious but as my life would have it, I wasn't supposed to sit on the picnic tables outside because they had just arrived and weren't secure. I picked up my stuff to move inside only to have my caramel slice slip from my plate and drop to the floor. I took a moment to mourn my caramel slice before exiting the cafe to continue my walk.

Having walked the length of the water line, I turned uphill to explore Market Jew Street. I liked a lot of stuff I saw but it all was either actually too expensive or too expensive for my miserly taste which doesn't want to pay more than 5 pounds for anything. I also managed to find the cemetery and wandered about looking at interesting gravestones as we all know I like to do. Really, would a visit anywhere be complete without a trip to a cemetery? I think not. I turned back to the sea to make my "Yes Mom, I'm alive, No, no one has kidnapped me." phone call and then ate two jumbo sausages with chips at a seafront cafe for dinner. I had been fantasizing about sausage when I was hungry on the train so it was perfect. I have also discovered something rather odd: I like salt, pepper, and vinegar on my fries more than ketchup. Not something I would have expected of myself.

I then headed for my hostel to check in at last. If you need a hostel to stay at in Penzance, I highly recommend the YMCA Cornwall. The staff was extremely friendly and helpful plus students stay really cheap. A flash of the ISIC card and I got a bed for roughly $25 for two nights. The room itself was much cleaner than the one at Hostel Blue Planet and had a desk and a large armoire with lots of shelf space so I could actually unpack and arrange my stuff. It was a four person room with two bunk beds but I only had one roommate. She was a middle aged Asian woman who I never spoke to and who did nothing but chew loudly, belch, and mutter to herself. She also rose very early and went to bed very early which suited me since it meant less time with the two of us being awake in the room. We didn't have our own bathroom but the women's in the hall was clean so that was nice. I didn't have to pay for sheets and a towel was only 50p so again, it put Blue Planet to shame. I was very satisfied with my lodgings.

Here is where I ran into the flaw of traveling alone. What do you do at night? I had been perfectly content during the day but what was I to do when everything was closed and the sun was going down? I didn't want to go to a pub by myself and I hadn't seen a theater or a cinema so I just headed back to the Promenade. I called Jon but my phone credit ran out since my calling card didn't mean free minutes on my cell phone which I had been unaware of. This meant I had to return to the hostel, buy 30 minutes on their Internet, and top up my phone. This really annoyed me since I wasn't expecting to have to top up the entire time I was here. Stupid 20p a minute calls and calling card that doesn't actually do what it says. I was pretty tired from my early rising, long train, and then hours of walking around so I decided to go to bed at like 9:30. I had no troubles falling asleep in my top bunk though the pillow was rather overstuffed.

My first day was pretty chill, as I had wanted it to be. It was nice to be away from the hustle and bustle of a big city like London or Paris. The scenery was breathtaking and it was nice to just wander and gaze. I will complete the story of my weekend tomorrow but now I must go and work on my evil academic project some more and shower and go to sleep. Work in the morning is going to seem so difficult after my lovely holiday.

Back to the Grind

Work days, oh work days, what to say about my work days? Wednesday was like any other day except for an interesting conversation I had with one of my co-workers. Basically he told me that this was the worst time for me to be at the BAC because no shows are going on, no one at the BAC has time to teach me anything, and it is just overall not a good place to put interns. Oh goody. Thanks for that. Really made the rest of the day feel great let me tell you. Thank goodness I got to leave early for class. Class was all about different management models and so on and then we watched an episode of the UK version of The Apprentice. Apparently everything you ever need to learn can be taught through a reality show as this is the second class where we have watched one. I am waiting for Paris Hilton's British BFF to come up on the schedule to teach us about British-American relations or something. As is our after class tradition, we went out to a pub, more specifically the Prince Albert, scene of my infamous Aussie run in. Luckily, this time there was no such activity. I discovered a great love for Pimm's, a liquor mixed with Sprite with slices of fresh citrus fruits added in. SO FREAKIN' DELICIOUS. I had like four glasses from our two pitchers. We got to playing Truth or Dare somehow and Lindsay was dared to talk to this balding man at the bar. He ended up being an extremely friendly and drunk Italian man who went on about how Lindsay was his favorite name and how sexy we all were. That was slightly awkward so we extricated ourselves back to Palace Court.

My grocery trip on Thursday was made a little more thrilling by the discovery of a 1.78 2 litre bottle of hard cider. I am in love with hard cider and now for much less than the price of a pint at a pub, I now have 2 litres. Being of legal drinking age here is awesome. Work was spent in setting up for the youth rehearsal I stage manage for and then the rehearsal itself. The kids were surprisingly more focused today so I didn't want to kill them quite as much as I usually do. However, the show doesn't seem to be any closer to being ready to rehearse than two weeks ago when I started, so once again I was pretty useless to the whole preceding besides setting up and taking down the equipment. Speaking of, when I was taking down the projection screen and putting it up, this other group came in to the space to rehearse. They all looked at me like I was some kind of obnoxious intruder who had no business being there and their directors asked me if I could move all the stuff. As if that wasn't exactly what I was trying to do anyway. They continued to look annoyed until I finally got everything out. Sorry if my cleaning up so you can work in a clear space is getting in the way but I think you would prefer I do that rather than leave it all there and not make any noise. Ugh, theatre people. (Yes, I see the irony in that statement)

Today was an extraordinarily light day. The only job I did in the morning was help my manager for the day, Rob, put up some drapes to black out a dressing room. This particular performance group had a large selection of food in the dressing room: biscuits, croissants, brownies, chips, Ritz crackers, fruit, etc. It was just Rob and I so Rob says "Do you think it would be wrong of me to steal a croissant?" and I replied "I was thinking the same exact thing." So job completed we nipped a bit of food from them and then stole down to the tech office (pictured above) to enjoy our spoils before they could find out. Sh, don't tell anyone. My afternoon was spent up many a ladder. I had to take down four drapes in the Grand Hall which meant going to the top of a very tall and rickety ladder that kept oscillating and making me fear for my life and limbs. I also got mocked by Rob and Matt for being concerned about breaking my nails untying knots but really I was concerned about it being painful, not the aesthetic of it. Easy to pick on the only girl in a boy's club. Jerks. Rob and I then put up some banners outside the building which brought us to about 5 and Rob sent me home early due to their not really being much to do, as had been the case the whole day. I took it as a good sign of things to come for this weekend.

I am leaving early in the morning for Penzance (yes, as in the Pirates of) to spend a peaceful weekend hiking along cliffs and lazing on beaches before I have to come back and really buckle down on the evil academic project. It is the first time I will be holidaying by myself and I will be in a hostel dorm, so I am a little uneasy about it all. Knock on wood and Drew, but I think I can handle myself for three days and two nights. I hope you are all breathlessly awaiting my return to regale you with my stories and photographs.

What's Wrong with London

Schoolchildren. Massive amounts of little children wearing Day-Glo vests to avoid getting lost/hit by cars walking around in swarms led by loud, obnoxious teachers desperately trying to corral the little monsters and failing. They are everywhere. They are one the Tube, in the Victoria & Albert, in the Natural History Museum, even on effing Earl's Court Road. There is nowhere to go to be safe from them and their annoying chatter about which of the Fashion exhibits they would wear if they were in "the old days" or their constant hogging of any hands on exhibits in Human Biology. I had to fight so hard not to carry one off by their braid and leaving them to rot in the middle of a busy street. When did so many children appear? Why must they all wear matching uniforms and walk around in large groups? Don't they have anything better to do than go on field trips? Shudder. Ok, rant over.

So today I returned to the Victoria & Albert and Natural History Museum since I had the whole day and didn't have a companion who needed to be somewhere. I immediately made for the Fashion exhibit at the V&A since it was what I most wanted to see. It was a great exhibit with both historical and more modern pieces. I, of course, most enjoyed the evening gowns and wedding dresses, but the evolution of underwear through the years was also interesting. I definitely found several dresses I really wanted to own myself. I then went to the Jewelry exhibit to admire all the sparkly things and even got to design my own ring on one of the computer terminals though adiamondisforever.com is much better for that. Hey, shut up, I like sparkly things. The next stop had to be the Theatre & Performance exhibit. The first thing you see what you walk in is an uber-realistic rhinoceros costume from some play where becoming a Fascist is represented by becoming a rhino. It was really scary to look for too long at the costume because you seriously expected it to come to life and start charging you. I kept a safe distance just in case it decided to go Jumanji on me. It was a really interesting exhibit with all manner of items from promotional posters to scale model sets to costumes (my favorite of course) to photos of famous thespians to footage of actual performances. I totally geeked out and basked in the love of theatre. I also saw the Paintings and though the collection was small it was some of the best stuff I have seen and I've been to the Louvre and the National Gallery. I prefer paintings with stories behind them and most of them were like that so that probably accounts for it.

I finally got museum fatigue after realizing I had been in there for about 3 hours so I popped over to the Natural History Museum for a quick look around the Human Biology exhibit. And there I encountered something even more terrifying than the rhinoceros. In fact, it may been one of the scariest things I have ever seen and I will probably have nightmares tonight. Naturally, Human Biology starts with explaining conception, pregnancy, and birth. Gross, but whatever. So I am just innocently walking from one room to another only to come face to face with an enormous fetus. Seriously, a 7 months along fetus 8 times larger than an actual 7 month old fetus. It was this huge alien looking thing on the wall accompanied by a loud heartbeat meant to simulate how the baby hears its mother's heartbeat. I was just in shock for a good 10 seconds, staring in horror before I finally managed to take a picture and then flee for my life. Who thought that was a good idea? WHO?! I had to skip the rest of that part of the exhibit so I could stop having heart palpitations. Luckily everything after that was fairly mundane stuff about how we move, memory, hormones, learning, etc and I was able to put the terror behind me. I briefly ventured to the Minerals exhibit to find more sparkly things and then went into "The Vault" where they have the really good sparkly things including the Star of South Africa diamond. I seriously stood there for two minutes just moving my head back and forth to watch it sparkle.

Since I was in the neighborhood, I set off for Earl's Court to see if I could find the pub Maddie and Mom frequented the summer we lived here. I didn't end up finding it (Mom and I later Google mapped it and realized I just didn't go far enough down the street which yet again proves my lack of looking skills) and instead bought a 75p baguette and noshed on that as I window shopped. I went into two secondhand clothing stores by Notting Hill Gate on the way home but I have never really liked shopping by myself so I didn't look hard or try anything on. Will have to get someone to go back to Portobello and Camden sometime so I buy awesome London clothing.

Well tomorrow I have to return to work after 5 days off and also go to class straight from work. This will be much better than last week since there is no Tube strike but I still don't much like Wednesdays with constantly being on the move from 9 in the morning to 9 at night. I anticipate my third week of work being much the same as the first two so I see manual labor and brat teens in my future. I also realize that I haven't updated on my summer goals in two weeks so I will close this time with just that.
1. Stop biting the inside of my lip (Trying so hard but still not there)
2. Beat my dependency on daily diet soda (Accomplished, I am going to strike this from the list from now on)
3. Make friends despite my socially fearful nature (Accomplished, have lots of friends though not at the level of my friends at home yet)
4. Go for a jog/walk in Hyde Park every day that I am not touring (Starting tomorrow I am going to try to jog every day because it has either been touring or working so I have not done this yet)
5. Take full advantage of my 18 days working at Battersea Arts Centre (I do want I'm told, does that count?)
6. Try new foods that I ordinarily wouldn't, especially British Isles specialties (Chicken tikka masala is excellent but other than that I don't go out to eat enough)
7. Acquire a working knowledge of British slang much like Australian last summer (Say Cool or Cheers or Aces a lot. My co-workers do.)
8. Go to Paris, Dublin, Cornwall, and Chawton (Paris is a check. Plans in place for Cornwall and Dublin. Chawton TBD.)
9. Keep a private journal in addition to this blog (Haven't felt the need to write so I haven't. I think this is a fail besides recording expenses, bus routes, and things I want to remember when my blog is not handy.)
10. Have the time of my life (Been having a good time lately)

C'est Paris! Part Deux

Now to finish my story while sweating it out in my incredibly hot room which shouldn't be so hot considering it is only about 68 degrees outside. Ah the joys of top floor rooms with no air conditioning.

I was the first to wake up the next morning so I got in the shower. It was actually bigger than the ones we have at Palace Court but it had a weird feature. You pushed in the knob to get the water but after a few seconds it popped back out and the water stopped. Thus you had to restart your water countless times during the shower which made it quite annoying and seem very inefficient. I have to say when I stepped out it was much like showering in China where you didn't actually feel cleaner but just kind of hoped you were.

After the other girls plus Adrian showered in our shower, we set off. Another strange feature of this hostel is you can't take your key with you when you leave but must leave it at reception to retrieve when you return. I suppose this makes sense if you are staying with strangers and don't want to have to wait for them to get back in your room but since we were all together I didn't think it really had a point. We left our keys and went for breakfast. It was omelettes all around and Molly got laughed at for requesting ketchup. Not really in a malicious way but laughed at all the same. Then we made for the Eiffel Tower.

I hate beneath the Eiffel Tower. I really do. It completely destroys any kind of romance Eiffel may have had at one point but really doesn't now. First of all there are about a bazillion people all waiting in horrendously long lines for the various elevators. It didn't help that when we were there only two of them were working. Then there are the armies of gypsies going around asking "Speak English?" and if you are gullible enough to say yes they hand you an index card with some sob story written on it in English and they won't go away until you give them money. Thanks to Jamie Goedde's Facebook note on just this subject I knew not to mistake them for lost tourists needing directions and to just ignore them. Still they were extremely annoying. Lastly, there are the armies of black/middle eastern men (this is not racism it is true) jingling illegal Eiffel Tower trinkets and asking you to buy them. Then a police officer will come up and they will run away halfheartedly but the police officer never even tries to catch them. All of this combined makes underneath the Eiffel Tower a less than exciting experience.

The monster lines made us decide to take the stairs since that line was significantly shorter than the ones for the elevators. So I ended up climbing 700 stairs up and 700 down and here is the scary thing: it wasn't hard. I know, I know, me, Caty Natt, who was constantly being yelled at in gym class for not doing anything had no problems climbing 700 stairs. I blame climbing up six flights of stairs every day to my room plus the manual labor I do at work plus all the walking I do to various sights around London. This was when I fully realized just how good for me London has been the past 3 weeks. I have to say it felt kind of cool.

The views from the Eiffel Tower were of course beautiful and I could pick out most of the other major landmarks such as Notre Dame and Sacre Couer. You had to pay extra to go up to the third platform and the line was heinous so I along with Molly, Lindsay, and Jin decided that the 1st and 2nd were good enough for us and we would go wait for Phil and Adrian at the bottom. We sat on some steps next to one of the four pillars and people watched. Really this meant watching naive tourists get swindled out of money by the gypsies and harassed by the illegal Eiffel Tower trinket sellers. It was kind of amusing to watch the trinket sellers run away from the police but eventually that too wore out. We were also cursed by a gypsy when we ignored her "Speak English?" which made us somewhat uncomfortable especially in the wake of Drag Me to Hell . We then decided to head to the Champs de Mars, the field right in front of the Eiffel Tower, to wait for Phil and Adrian and take pictures. Sadly, I didn't get the stereotypical picture I wanted with a guy twirling me around while the camera is slightly tilted and black and white but then again it has to be raining too and it was a beautiful day out. So no obnoxious L'Amour Paris or whatever poster picture for me.

We were then supposed to check out the catacombes, which was my pick on the itinerary. Well, after having an enormous chicken lunch, we got to the catacombes entrance and there was a long line. No problem we thought, it was 3:30 and it didn't close until 5. However, the line doesn't move. Literally in 20 minutes we moved maybe 3 feet. Then this guy who works at the catacombes comes up and says they stop letting people in at 4 and we won't make it through the line in time. Great. I was pissed. Not at anyone but just at the world for denying me what I had most wanted to do in Paris. So we had to move on to the Pantheon and not get to see tunnels of dead people's bones. The world is cruel.

The Pantheon was pretty as most churches are, though the Pantheon is no longer a church but a national monument or something. The most interesting part was the large number of notables that have tombs in the crypt. Rousseau, Voltaire, Zola, Dumas, Hugo, Curie, Braille, all buried there. Rousseau and Voltaire had the grandest tombs even the architect of the Pantheon didn't get as ornate a tomb as them. Somehow I missed the commemoration plaque to Antoine de Saint Exupery, writer of Le Petit Prince , which kind of made me angry once I found out it was there.

When we left the Pantheon it was still early so we headed for Sacre Coeur and Montmartre. There were probably hundreds of people on the Butte Montmartre basking in the sunshine in front of Sacre Coeur. After climbing the various stairs to reach the top of the hill and Sacre Coeur itself, we came upon two street performers. They were basically French Budapi Brothers except they didn't juggle but messed around with cups on strings and a crystal ball. Hard to explain really. They captivated most of the crowd being somewhat good-looking but I was fairly unimpressed.

We went inside Sacre Coeur which was beautiful like all churches, especially Catholic ones, are. This one was notable though because we came in during what I presume was a service and nuns were singing our entire visit. No hills were alive however. There was also a huge painting on a dome above the altar of Jesus that was made up of a large amount of gold paint. It was pretty incredible. Though I admit this visit also made me sad because I saw all of this beauty and work dedicated to Christianity but there are so many other religions with equal beauty and work and yet some or all of them have to be wrong. That made me sad thinking about which ones were wrong and if any of them were right. Really deep philosophical stuff. Perfect to prepare me for our next stop at the Pigalle red light district.

Pigalle was ostensibly for the Moulin Rouge but then we came acress Sexodrome. Seriously, that was what the store was called. It was a massive three story building with mannequins performing sex acts in the window displays. We all laughed and took pictures but then Jin decided to go in. So Phil, Adrian, and I followed suit while Lindsay and Molly went to find the Moulin Rouge. Sexodrome was a disappointment. It seemed to be like any other adult shop you could find in America except much more expensive. The boys and I indulged our inner immaturity for a little while, pointing and laughing at the various toys and DVDs for sale, and then went to find Lindsay and Molly. We found the Moulin Rouge and then went to eat a few blocks away. I decided to get a banana split for dinner since I really hadn't had any ice cream in a good while and thoroughly enjoyed it. This was one of the best meals we'd had with everyone enjoying their pasta, French bread, and wine.

At last, we were ready to head back to the hostel. We stopped for a few more drinks at a local sidewalk cafe where I enjoyed some delicious hard cider from a very pretty green jug. Then we, of course, got crepes again. The crepe seller loved that we were American and kept going on and on about Obama and how awesome he was. We all played along with his enthusiasm until we got our crepes and then we took off fairly quickly. Another full day of touring meant we were all asleep within an hour, though our neighbors were even louder and more obnoxious than the ones the night before.

In the morning we simply woke up, went to the train station, got breakfast, and left. CGT was still there making noise to see us off and I once again fell asleep against the headrest and really can't tell you anything about taking the Eurostar except you will in all likelihood pass out for the entire journey. My overall impression of Paris is that it is highly overrated and overhyped but then again most places are. Of course I was only there for a weekend nor did I have my significant other with me so maybe that is the key to finding the true beauty and romance of Paris. I was really glad to be back in London in fact we all were. We all talked about how we felt like we were truly coming home after being on vacation when really London is our vacation too. It is just different when you live, work, and study somewhere rather than just sightseeing. I do feel very comfortable and at home in London and should I ever get the opportunity I would live here in an instant.

Here I have caught you all up with my weekend. Yesterday after returning and today are probably going to be spent playing catch up with work I haven't done and making the most of time to myself since Lacey won't return with her group from Paris until late tonight. Maybe I will do something worth talking about on Tuesday but for now it is just chill time.

C'est Paris! Part Un

Ok, so these are going to be REALLY long entries since they are going to cover the entirety of my weekend in Paris. Feel free to tune out or skim if you so desire but I am going to endeavor to put it down in its entirety.

A group of 12 of us woke up and gathered in the main hallway at 3:45 am. Yeah, that's right 3:45. I had about 4 hours of sleep in me, good times. We sat at the Notting Hill Gate bus stop for a good 20 minutes but the 390 bus came relatively on time and any heart attacks on our part were entirely unwarranted. We had no troubles the rest of the way. We got there in plenty of time, got our tickets from the kiosks, and got some food to hold us through. Security is much like airport security minus having to put liquids in plastic bags or have them be travel size or take off your shoes. Customs was a stamp in my passport, no problem. We sat for about 30 minutes in the waiting area before boarding through the inclined moving walkway and making our way to carriage 15. Here is where Eurostar is ingenious: there are headrests to either side of your seat so you can rest your head without hurting your neck. I passed out before we even left London and didn't wake up until we pulled in to Paris. It was a little like magic to go to sleep and then wake up in France.

We exited to the train to immediate activity. Right outside the gate there was a large crowd of people with flags, whistles, sirens, and megaphones screaming something in French. We still have no idea what they were doing, some protest or something, but it was an interesting welcome to Paris. We ran into trouble with the metro since the ticket machine only took cards with chips on them which of course none of us had. We then had to wait in an excruciatingly long line to pay with cash at the info desk. Paris metro doesn't have a three day pass or anything like London so we all bought 10 single trip tickets and figured that would hold us the weekend. It was easy to navigate the map but once we arrived at Gare du Lyon we had no idea which exit to take. We exited and proceeded to walk around for 30 minutes lost until we realized our hostel was right around the corner from the station if only we had exited the right way. Great.

We dropped our bags in luggage storage at the hostel before setting off for l'Arc du Triomphe. The Arc is really cool but it is in the middle of the world's deadliest traffic circle so I wasn't really too keen to get closer. A couple pictures and we were ready to move on. We set off down the Champs-Elysees, perhaps the most famous shopping street in the world and the most hoity-toity. We found a small sandwich shop on a side street and sat down to baguette sandwiches. I actually ordered all in French which made me quite proud of myself. It never ceases to amaze me that though a sandwich in France can be just a baguette, butter, and ham, like mine was, yet it still tastes so amazingly delicious and like nowhere else you could get the same thing.

The boys went back to the Arc to climb to to the top (it turned out to be closed due to some kind of ceremony) while us girls set off down the Champs-Elysee towards the Louvre. The Champs-Elysee has huge sidewalks under trees so it is a very leisurely and pretty walk. Eventually we hit the Place de la Concorde which was another traffic nightmare. Seriously, I would not drive in Paris for anything. There aren't even any traffic lines on the roads. I would never hack it.

The Place de la Concorde is crowned with this enormous obelisk that was a gift from the pasha of Egypt in times gone by. Looks slightly out of place in modern Paris but it was interesting to look at. The fountains on either side were also pretty cool and we got our picture taken with one.

After the Place is the Jardin de Tuileries which is so pretty. It has a large circular pond right at the entrance with chairs for people to sit and relax in. There are also a plethora of marble statues most of which have pigeons seated on them comically. Then there is a long and wide central path with squares of trees surrounding open patches of grass with artwork in them. There are benches beneath the trees and this was definitely the most romantic spot I encountered while in the City of Love. We got accosted by a schoolchild asking for directions or something in rapid French but all we could do was shrug until she went away. Molly's scared/confused face was priceless.

At last, we came to the Louvre. We entered through the infamous Pyramid to the immense lobby beneath. We discovered that European students get in free so we showed our City University London IDs and presto, no 9 euro entrance for us. It was pretty awesome. We ambled about Neo-Classicism for a bit before making our way to the Mona Lisa to meet the boys. I repeat again my assertion that the Mona Lisa is highly overrated and actually pretty boring. Apparently the guards felt the same way because flashes were going off all over the place and they did nothing about it. Mildly irritating. We then hit Winged Victory and Venus de Milo with some sculpture and antiquities in between before taking our leave of the Louvre. I haven't been able to spend enough time in the Louvre the first time or this time so someday I hope to have enough time in Paris to give over at least a half day to it. There is so much of it I have never seen or even really considered. They have the Code of Hammurabi for god's sake, the Code of Hammurabi! Ok, geek moment over.

We followed the Seine to Notre Dame taking in the lovely day and browsing the side stalls. Adrian bought an enormous Eiffel Tower and we joked he would use it to ward off any muggers that might come our way. There is also a huge nude postcard trade in Paris, all black and white and from ye olde times. Slightly weird but I suppose with the Moulin Rouge it makes sense.

Notre Dame at last loomed before us. We got in the extraordinarily long line which actually went rather quickly. The gargoyles and such were closed so we had to content ourselves with only the cathedral itself. Notre Dame is beautiful but of course so is every cathedral in Europe so I don't have much to say about it beyond that.

All our sightseeing accomplished for the day, we went back to our hostel's area to seek dinner. We finally settled on a place only to discover an incredibly complex French menu beyond my meager 4 years of high school capabilities. We asked the waitress who luckily spoke English but it still wasn't very helpful. Adrian and Lindsay ordered something the waitress said was fish and they got a big bowl of mussels. They like mussels but it was just funny to see all our faces staring at it going "WTF?" I got a croque-monsieur (toasted ham and cheese sandwich) which I knew about from a French field trip and thus enjoyed my meal immensely. Some fellow American college students who had been in Paris for a month pointed us to some good bars and we spent a few hours enjoying happy hour at first an India themed bar and then a bar we thought might be a gay bar but never really got confirmation about. The cocktails were tasty, so I didn't really care and the language barrier prevented interaction anyway. Sleepy and slightly tipsy, we made our way back to the hostel, after the obligatory crepe run.

So Hostel Blue Planet is basically what you would expect. There is a reception desk with a small lounge containing vending machines and computers you can buy online time for. You go up stairs to the rooms. Every floor has a toiler and shower right at the top of the stairs and then you go down that hallway to another perpendicular hallway with the rooms. Every room has a bunk bed and twin bed and that it is. Molly, Lindsay, and I had our own full bathroom because we had a female room (obviously) while the boys had only a sink. Sometimes vaginas are pretty convenient. We had to pay 4 euro for a sheet and a towel and we all immediately covered the entire bed, pillow and comforter, with the sheet because none of us wanted to sleep on the other stuff. We went to bed quickly after arriving but we had incredibly loud neighbors that kept slamming their door, running up and down the hallway, and talking loudly. Walls are paper thin in hostels apparently. Really though, it was about what I expected and what I paid for, a place to sleep and that is all.

Our second day will have to wait until tomorrow because I am just sick of writing. I have other things to do and sleep to have. To be continued.