The Heart of it All

There have been recently some misconceptions about the geographical location of Ohio and how exactly to pronounce 'Ohio'. Firstly, Ohio is not the same as Idaho nor is it Iowa. Secondly, Ohio is not next Iowa, nor is it near New Jersey. Thirdly, Ohio is sometimes referred to as a Midwestern State as well as part of the East Coast, not the Middle East (Perhaps the eastern bit of the Midwest or the central bit of the East Coast? Take your pick). And finally, Ohio is nowhere near California or Disney World. (Disneyland is in California, by the way, not Disney World). Below is a map of the United States where Ohio is marked in red:

Ohio's major cities include Cincinnati, Cleveland, and Columbus, not Boston and Chicago. When asked from where I was, I was asked 'How far is that from New Jersey?' Great, now Jersey Shore has made it to Europe. One of my favourite questions I have been asked has been how many guns I own. To be honest, I have none and no, I have never witnessed someone being shot nor have I seen someone who has just been shot. If you'd like to see that, I suggest you visit Metro Health's trauma centre in Cleveland. 

When I had mentioned I was from Ohio, one person pointed out that Ohio has lots of cows. I agreed with the statement and asked if they had been to Ohio. They said no and that they were just aware of the stereotypes. I knew that being from Ohio ultimately labelled me as a 'country bumpkin' (I grew up in a Cleveland suburb where we couldn't have chickens, let alone rabbits) but I didn't want myself to carry that label and so I have tried to move myself away from that culture to avoid the stereotypes. And no, I do not own any cows as pets nor do I know anyone who has any cows. 

I know the feeling all too well.

Kangaroos hit by a Carr

Today is Australia Day and to celebrate it, I headed to the Walkabout in Covent Garden where I had a roo burger. Since it was Australia Day, the restaurant was packed with Aussies and I was clearly the only non-Australian. I tried to blend in but I didn't even want to try and butcher the accent. I have listened to enough Hamish & Andy that I should be able to mimic the accent, but I just can't. I have tried and failed (except when I sing We are better than U2 by Hamish & Andy). I didn't want to look like a stupid Yank so I kept my mouth shut. Below is a photo of the restaurant:

Below is the delicious kangaroo burger I had for lunch. The meat was not what I remembered from when I was in Sydney a few years back and I bit into it like a hamburger. The last time I had kangaroo I had a steak knife and it was in the form of a filet. I didn't remember the roo being hard to pull apart, so I took it off the bun and ate it that way to avoid embarrassment from getting BBQ sauce all over myself. 

After my delicious meal I headed toward Oxford Circus to pay a visit to Vodafone and French Connection (Sorry, mom). On my way there, I ran into the one and only, Jimmy Carr.

Why didn't I get a photo of myself with him or at least one of him? Here's how the encounter happened:

I was on the corner of Henrietta and Strand when I saw a man coming toward me. I thought nothing of it and when I got closer, I thought he looked familiar. I kept staring at him like a lunatic and when I got closer, I realised who it was: Jimmy Carr. He smiled at me and we went our separate ways. The street corner wasn't crowded and so yes, it would've been obvious for me to whip out my camera and take a photo. He would've noticed and that would've been awkward. I suppose I could've stopped him, but I was too nervous. Think what you want, but I did see Jimmy Carr. 

Me talk pretty one day

Today in lecture we had to read aloud to the class. I felt like I was back in second grade as we went around the room in order of our seating arrangement. I sat there nearly trembling and dreading the moment I would have to project my horrendous American accent to the class. The moment came and I began to read the text. I heard whispers as soon as I commenced and all I could think was, 'Wow, I sound a bit like my mother,' and 'They're probably making comments about my accent-great.' I had read quite a chunk of the literature aloud when the professor asked me to read more. I didn't stutter nor did I have any awkward pauses: it was as if I was a professional public speaker. I felt pretty good about it until once I had finished one of the students ran out of the room. Maybe her ears were bleeding from my atrocious American accent? They didn't appear to be, but when she returned she looked quite white as if she had thrown up. I mean, it could be worse. Like take the South, for example. At least people can understand me-I think.

Some say he has four birthdays, but only three in leap years...

First of all, I'd like to say hello to my dear flatmate, Amy, because she reads this blog. Hello, Amy!

Today is my 21st birthday and to celebrate it, I went to the World of Top Gear!

I saw all the cars I wanted to see, except the Hammerhead Eagle-i Thrust (the 'I' is lowercase because it'll make everyone think it's environmentally friendly since ecomentalists are stupid). The great Jeremy Clarkson once called this car 'Geoff,' though 'Geoff' suffered from a great accident and the Hammerhead Eagle-i Thrust was born (shown below).

The car was supposed to be at the museum, but it wasn't. Way to ruin my birthday, Beaulieu.

When I returned from the World of Top Gear, my lovely flatmates Charlii and Fran brought me a birthday cake! It was delicious spongecake topped with fresh cherries. They drew their inspiration from my Fourth of July cake this previous year. If you were fortunate enough to devour this cake, then you know what I'm talking about. This has been the best birthday I have ever had. Special thanks go out to Eryn, Forrest Gump, my dad for getting me hooked on F1, Kylie, Kayla, Fran, Charlii, Hamish, Meradia, Sarah, the nice cab driver who drove me from the train station to the museum, Amy for reading this, and my mom for paying for it.  Happy Birthday, Rasputin!

Albannach

I ventured to Trafalgar Square for some haggis at Albannach. It was mighty tasty : )

The Other Boleyn Girl

On Friday I went to the Tower of London where I spent nearly 2-3 hours basking in the history of the Tower. The moment I stepped on the grounds I felt like I was in the Walt Disney World for British historians. I was told that I look like a Boleyn, which I found to be quite interesting (and I guess a compliment?). Wasn't Anne Boleyn known for being ugly? If they mean I look like Natalie Dormer, then fine.  Anyway, I spent much of my time taking photos of cells and where people were executed, except Anne Boleyn. There was a great view of construction where she was executed so I didn't really get to see the spot where she lost her head.  Below is a photo showing only part of what was blocked off. If I could've gone beyond the gates, I could've seen where Anne Boleyn was executed.

On the plus side, I was able to see where Anne Askew spent her last few days!

Below is what her cell looked like. When I walked in it felt like she was in there. Overall, it was just a very depressing place, but still interesting at the same time.

For lunch I ate at one of the cafes at the Tower. They had food where you could 'eat through the ages,' and I opted for beef and ale pie, peas, and apple crumble. All of the Victorian desserts looked amazing, but their prices weren't exactly that great. After lunch I went to the White Tower where I spent a lot of my time learning about the armoury throughout the dynasties. 

The following day I went to Hampton Court Palace. I went alone and I was very pleased with myself for how I managed to navigate my way there. 

I only had 2.5 hours to spend here because of how long it took me to get to Hampton Court Palace and with the time they close. I had my first encounter with a ghost in the Georgian Apartments. I don't know who it was, but it sounded like a little boy whispering something about Mary. Then, in the 'Haunted Gallery' I heard a faint scream. It was probably Catherine Howard, which is a bit erie. Below is a photo of the Haunted Gallery:

After touring the main part of the palace I went outside to the gardens where I stumbled upon the set of 'Sherlock Holmes 2.'

Overall, this was a great weekend. I really enjoy spending my time at historic sites because I personally feel that visiting a site where so much history has happened is worthwhile. In February I will be returning to Hampton Court Palace for a ghost tour that I just booked. I hope it's worth the £25.

£4 for a book? Don't mind if I do!

You know those Zipnotes books we sometimes have to get, but can only buy them from the bookstore and can't sell them back? The ones that range anywhere from about $40 and up? They're £4 here. I'm not missing a zero; they're really £4 and as of this moment, that would be $6.30. Life is gooood.

Walmart is taking over the world.

I made my first trip to Asda yesterday with some people who live in my reshall. They're all really quite nice and very helpful. I was mortified when I saw this:

It appears that Walmart is taking over the earth. With a bit of research, I found that there are Walmart stores in Canada and various subsidiaries around the globe, like Asda in the UK and Bompreço in Brazil.  On the plus side, I found this:

I now own a Top Gear lunch bag, which required me to pay for it, obviously. Before I left, my mother gave me a debit card that is issued by AAA. On the card it reads 'TRAVEL CARD,' rather than my name. This was fun explaining to the cashier. She told me the names didn't match and I had to explain to her that's a bit like a gift card. She looked at the signature on the back (I printed my name and asked to request a photo ID), which she didn't seem to understand (She wasn't a native English speaker). I showed her my driving licence, which was another problem: She didn't understand it. She told me my driving licence wasn't signed, which was confusing for her (it is signed right below my photo). I pointed to my name and the name on the back of my debit card. That made some sense to her, and she happily let me use it. 

Here's the best thing I have heard all day: 'I spent £20 on books for my lectures this term!' You poor thing. Spending roughly $30 on books for a semester is very reasonable, especially if you're an American student. 

'I think she's American!'

That is what I heard yesterday in my first lecture. We were told to organise ourselves into groups and discuss Picasso's Les Demoiselles d'Avignon. I was in the awkward position where there were empty seats on either side of me, making it a bit challenging to pair up with someone. Before I knew it, backs were facing me and well, I'm just a bit shy at times. The assignment wasn't hard at all: In fact, it was quite simple and I did just fine by myself. Overall, my first day of lectures was rather light, besides running all over campus trying to schedule modules. I couldn't register one because the department was closed, and then the other one was full. My luck.


The following day I had to furthermore schedule even more modules! It's not like you just go on OZone or something similar and schedule them-you physically go to the department and ask to take it. It's so very bothersome, but I guess that's just what needs to be done. Here is my timetable:

M: France and the Francophone World 14:00-16:00
W: Polite & Plebeian: 18th Century England 9:00-13:00
Th: Policing Culture, Policing the Nation 10:00-13:00
      Introduction to Ancient History: Greece 14:00-16:30

THE HAMSTER!

First of all, I would just like to say that I saw the one and only Richard Hammond! He was driving around near Roehampton, which is close to Hammersmith (where another presenter lives) and I just happened to spot him cruising in his Porsche. I'm still in shock from this.

Second of all, I am going to go to The World of Top Gear very soon and I hope I see the others there, but I find this very unlikely. I guess I'll just have to venture to Chipping Norton and Hammersmith to spot the others. 

What lies beyond Ohio

It's day one and I really don't know what to think of it. Yesterday I headed for London thinking my camera was gone, but really it was just hidden in my bag. That made me feel like an idiot.

I was really worried that my ride wouldn't remember to pick me up Heathrow, but they happily remembered. Once I arrived at Roehampton I collected my key to my dorm, which is, to say the least, 'interesting.' I dragged my bag up three floors and managed to find my room. I still don't know where to pick up the linens I ordered, but I'll sort that out in the morning. The school provided me with new sheets that look like they belong in a 1980's Miami hotel. The room itself isn't bad, it's just the bathroom that bothers me. I went to take a shower and discovered the bathroom merely has a bath with no shower. I thought that was odd so I looked around and finally found a shower. For some reason, it just wouldn't work and there was painfully hot water dripping from the shower head. I couldn't deal with it (my hands were starting to throb and I didn't want to look like I had the plague) so I opted for the bath. It was more-so of a sponge bath with me trying to wash my hair without burning my scalp. I had two options: freezing or burning, so I took freezing. It did the job, but it was awful. After whatever you'd like to call that, I went to my room to watch Top Gear. People on my floor began knocking at my door to meet me. I had never in my life met someone who would be jealous of me for living in Ohio. It's really nothing special unless you're a farmer or have no desire to see what lies beyond the Ohio boarder (There really are people like that).