Dirty Jerz

Every time I come back to New Jersey from Ithaca, my days take on a certain pattern:

1. I start eating all day. Not because I'm hungry, but because I have goals... things like finishing 3 bananas before they go bad, or having the last pita/english muffin/yogurt because it is the last one (it's lonely?). Dreaming big, I have set out to finish the cheerios before christmas.

I am thus faced with the strange gastronomic choices my family makes. Here is a list of things in the fridge:
--A tupperware container filled with approximately 20 pickles, quartered lengthwise and less than cripsy
--Many cheeses: Parmesan (grated), parmesan (shredded), gruyere, monteray jack, cheddar (block) and cheddar (fancy shredded), cream cheese, cracker barrel sharp cheddar, cracker barrel baby swiss, spreadable (light, because we are concerned about fat) cheese wedges in garlic & herb and original flavors, colby jack, feta crumbles. THIS IS OUT OF CONTROL.
--a tin of lump crab
--a can of pinapples, opened, covered with tin foil as if still half-full. And yet, when I lift the tin foil to investigate, it is empty. I return it to the fridge.
--a tupperware shaker filled with an unidentifiable tan powder...too fine to be sugar or salt, wrong color to be flour, too scared to taste it, I'm hoping it's heroin. Would explain some things.
--in the freezer: a plastic baggie full of wool. Now, my mom does crafty project things and I suspect this has something to do with dyeing or treating the wool for something, but still.

2. I sleep a lot. This is to be expected, since I am exhausted from exams and moving and driving and so on, but it's part of the reentry pattern, so I mention it. I like to blame it in the difference of atmospheric pressure between ithaca and sea level making my blood oxygenated more than usual, but that's totally fabricated.

3. All of my will and sense of efficacy goes away. It's been 2 days and I still haven't unpacked my car. Every afternoon I wake up with plans, and somehow they unravel by 8 pm.

Tomorrow I will go presents shopping, though, since I have lists for that! (JERSEY MALLS!!!)


***

If you were wondering, I will be leaving on the evening of january 5th, arriving the morning of the 6th, and staying until the 12th of June.

They tell you to make copies of your passport in case it gets lost or stolen, so I did that. I'm kind of in love with my passport photo, since it's so very vague. If mine does get stolen, the future recipient has hit the photo jackpot: I look like any woman with brownish/blondish hair of caucasian/hispanic/southeast asian descent.

Exciting!!!

I have a place to live!

It's Schafer House, allll the way at the bottom!
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/prospective-students/accommodation/residences/houses/

According to the description, rooms are "Centrally heated, carpeted, and each with a washbasin."

The first picture I post will be of my washbasin.

Tornado Kills 6 in London

http://www.guardian.co.uk/weather/Story/0,,1966688,00.html

London, why are you so badass?

The Countdown Begins...

Hey guys. Hey.

I have a blog. I know, it's weird, right? Because the internet, I have always asserted, is not real. Therein lies the beauty!

Well, a month from now, I will be perched on a blue polyester Economy-class seat, with one carry-on and two checked bags, hurtling over the ocean with no idea where I'm going to sleep that night or who may try to grab my ass while navigating public transportation.

I've seen zombie movies begin with less foreboding.

So I thought I might want to share some of my (inevitable, mis)adventures with some of my closest friends and the entire world who was stupid enough to google "grab ass."

Admission to this delightful handbasket to hell is this:
Friends: Say hi to me once in a while. (CAITLIN.)
Friends who have friends in London: Give me thier names and some way to contact them. Give them my name so that they know I'm coming and don't think I'm just after some foreign ass.
Strangers: Don't even let me know you're here, it's weird.

So:

Today was the "Women's Pre-Departure Informational Meeting" which was full of lovely tips and advice and free condoms, and was the last official word I shall get from this university as to what I am supposed to be doing while misplaced. Ass grabbing was a big topic of conversation. Everytime a member of the audience veered off into language barriers or clothing choices, the moderator got us right back to the important issues related to grabbing.

Did you go to third grade? Remember those uncomfortable talks the school nurse would come in to give, using ten dollar words like 'special places' and 'white van' with 'tinted windows?' Leaving half the class bewildered and the other half thinking about Uncle Billy a little differently? This felt a liiiittle like that.

But given the topic, I don't know how they resisted calling it Broads Abroad or something. Maybe I should suggest it for next year?

blog?

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