Double Faucet (???)

In the past five days, I like to think I've adjusted reasonably well to life in another country. I've got a handle on the lingo (however small that handle may be) and I've learned not to complain about walking to the grocery store and back every time I need something because buying excessive groceries makes for a HORRIBLE walk home. The one thing I have yet to understand is this:

(source)

Ladies and gentlemen, the double faucet. Hot water comes out one spicket and cold water from the other. I thought this was cool at first because the hot water warms up super fast so very naively, I thought: "HEY, I'll never have to wash my face with cold water!" Wrong :| I have yet to wash my face with warm water. Why you may ask? Because the water gets hot. Super fast. And it scalds.

With two streams of water, the cold and hot water never mix. So it never gets warm. It's either really cold or really hot. And all the faucets are the same from the sinks to the showers. Except the one in the kitchen, which is what I'm used to. Even then though, the faucet is quite the cheater because there are two very separate and distinct flows of water from the spicket. This means that you might be thinking your washing your hands in frigid water but move them back a half inch and suddenly it's scalding which means back to the cold. It's like I can't win.

Has anyone else had experience with this? Because it doesn't seem to bother any of my British flatmates. In fact, when I mentioned how odd I thought it was, they looked at me like I had asked about a faucet coming out of my arm or something. Maybe I've just been living in my little bubble for too long.

ah-CHOO

It never fails that every single fall, I contract some disease. Last fall, I had the excitement of coming down with swine flu so I had to wear a surgical mask everywhere I went and I was more or less quarantined in my cesspool of a dorm room. The fall before that, I got pnuemonia that went incorrectly diagnosed so I ended up with cough suppressants that prevented me from coughing up whatever was in my lungs and making me feel like I was drowning in my own bed in the middle of the night.

Needless to say, even though I love the weather, this is very apparently not the right time of the year for my immune system. I had hoped (in vain, it would turn out) that I wouldn't get sick in London. Maybe something about the weather or the ecosystem or something would help me fight off the infections my body surrenders to every autumn and for a while, it looked like I was doing a pretty good job.

J got sick our first week here with a nasty cough and even though we're in a country with free healthcare and we have all-inclusive health insurance, finding someone who would see him when he wasn't registered with a General Practitioner was pretty hard. Our on-campus doctor didn't have time to see him and the walk-in clinic closest to us (a little over a mile walking) was agitated that he wasn't seeing his usual doctor. I mean, they saw him anyway but a diagnosis of: 'Idk, it'll pass' left much to be desired.

Here's a generally disturbing picture of J and I searching for healthcare. Please ignore the fact that I don't look so hot. This was a particularly nasty day outside and my body had already fallen ill to a virus.

Now that I'm sick with what appears to be an advanced version of what J had, I'm left wondering what I should do. Unfortunately, while I don't have a cough, I have fever, sneezes, wheezes, a sore throat and am, in general, a disgusting mucus factory. Hopefully it's just a cold that'll go away soon but with my luck and track record, it'll probably evolve into something heinous. And then I'll have to wander until some place takes pity on me and decides to see me. Woohoo!

On a brighter note, the flatmates and I attended a nature themed flat party the other day. The pictures are actually much more entertaining than the party itself but as improverished university students, going out to the bar/club every night is WAY too expensive. Did I mentioned I wasted (and I do mean absolutely wasted) £17.50 on a ticket to a club that shall remain nameless that threw the worst rave I've ever been to? Yes, I'm still recovering financially from that blow. Not to mention drinks were priced anywhere from £4 for a tiny shot to £121843710384 for doubles that got progressively more expensive. (I err on the side of exaggeration but I'd like to get my point across).

No one told me the party was themed so my costume is 'Texan/Londoner'

Translator

American to British Translator

v. 1

Chips = Crisps

Fries = Chips

Biscuits = Cookies

Jello = Jelly

Jelly = Jam 

Guido/Thugesque Individual = Chav

To be like aforementioned = Chavvy

Drunk = Wankered

Shrimp = Prawn

This is all I can think of off the top of my head but are the things that have most complicated my life as of recently. Especially the whole Chips/Crisps fiasco. Another odd thing about these "crisps"? The flavors:

(source)

There are also things like Prawn Cocktail, Cheese & Onion and Steak & Onion. I have not been brave enough to try any of these flavors yet but I'll let you know if that changes.

Happy Monday everyone!

British Birthdays

Last night, we celebrated by flatmate's birthday, officially making hers the first birthday I've celebrated in the UK. I didn't know what to do so J and I headed to the grocery store and pretty much bought out the birthday section to decorate our flat with.

We got lucky and ran into everybody but Lauren (who's birthday we were celebrating) so we got to work on the kitchen.

And we were just finishing when Lauren walked into the room and we all temporarily lost our minds and screamed. I was kind of disappointed that we didn't get to blow bubbles and make lots of noise when she came in but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?

Afterwards, we all went out to go celebrate at some cute little pub about 3 minutes from where we live. All six people in our flat get along pretty well so we headed out together. Thankfully, it wasn't too cold or rainy so we got to lay off the umbrellas and heavy coats for a while. Apparently, the nice weather brought out all sorts of people and the normally reasonably-crowded pub we had anticipated turned out to be having a wildly popular Thursday night for no apparent reason. So, after growing alarmingly claustrophobic for about three hours, we decided to leave for the always mandatory late night meal.

The most popular kind of fast food joint around here are restaurants that specialize in fried chicken and curry and somehow, we managed to find a place that would welcome us with open arms at two in the morning. It was a pleasant experience at the time but fried chicken from this part of town is never a good idea. I spent most of the morning feeling like I had fallen into a life-size deep fryer. Not so nice.
At the time though, it sounded like a wonderful a wonderful idea. Don't we look like we're having a good time? Probably because this is pre-chicken. Just ignore the girl who looks like some sort of predator in the back. I was having a rough night.

It's a Non-Stop Party

Nothing in America absolutely holds a candle to the way the British people party. It is insane. By the time I joined the party at around 10:00-10:30 today, the little square where we sat outside was absolutely littered with different kinds of alcohol bottles. Everyone was already tipsy enough to not know whether they were playing King's Cup or Never Have I Ever. And before you go and think that I'm just running around with the wrong crowd, keep in mind: this was the entire campus. I'm sure there are a few kids who don't partake in this kind of thing but every balcony you may look at or any place to sit that isn't the grass is full of people getting to know each other and sharing their £30 vodka like it's no big deal. There was a party in Flat 59, Flat 4something or another in one of the houses, Flat 134134 in another house, behind some other house, between two buildings on the North side... you get the picture.

The party still rages outside. It's time for me to go find fried chicken since I there's no Chick-Fil-A over here :(

The First Post About London

So this is my third day in London but I've been so jetlagged the last few days, they seem kind of like a blur. Last night though, I finally slept all through the night (which makes me sound like a fussy 1-year-old but whatever) which hopefully means I'll be rested today and won't have to fight the urge to nap.

London is every wonderful thing I thought it would be and then some. It was a lot colder than I figured it would be though. I trotted out of Heathrow in my short-sleeved v-neck and sweater and instantly froze. I'll be lucky if I defrost by May. It hasn't rained yet though so I've been able to walk around and explore some.

The school I'm in now is in the East End of London which means I can see Central London (or "downtown" if you will) which is where all the nifty things are and if I get on the bus (which I accidentally did yesterday), I can see the new Olympic stadium. Well, sort of. It's covered up by machines and little wood walls.

There are cute little shops everywhere but in none of these shops have I been able to find
-a voltage converter
-a pillow
I looked for Argos yesterday (think: Wal-Mart) but I couldn't find it. I did find a mall though, 2 Subways, 1 Burger King and a Starbucks but unfortunately, none of these places sell what I need so I'll keep looking. Luckily, my computer has a built in converter and I bought my phone here (The cheapo, super basic kind but in PINK) so though things are functional. I just want to be able to use my straightener. Even that might not be possible though since I may or may not have fried it my first 20 minutes here. But I won't know until I can get a converter! OH, the suspense!

In other news, my flatmates and I got to know each other last night over vino and creeping on the old people who live next door. (If you leave your curtains open and your lights on, then do interesting things by the window, people will watch you. It's a fact of life.) We talked about the stereotypes we had of each other and this is what they had to say about good ole' Texas:
1. Cowboy hats
2. Cowboy boots
3. Desert
4. "Those cows with the big horns"
5. Hot

They were surprised to learn that they were actually dead-on. For England, they taught me:
1. It's not actually raining all the time.
2. They really do drink a lot of tea.
3. They take dental hygeine seriously.
4. There really are PSAs about being friendly to visitors in preparation for the Olympics
5. They also drink. A lot.

All in all, it's been a good experience so far. I think I'm going to go look for a pillow again today since my last 3 days of searching have come up fruitless.




'

tomorrow's the big day

And yet, I don't think it's sunk in yet. I really don't feel any different than I did before except that I've been scurrying everyone trying to make sure everything's packed. Is it weird that I feel this way?

Next time I write, I'll be in London!
Ciao!