Wales: Adventure Weekend

This was supposed to be published FEBRUARY 9... but the html was fucked, and i don't know how to fix it... so this is just it copied and pasted:

the First Adventure: Getting There

I signed up for the "Venture Weekend" with Perseli Ventures in Wales. They promised a fun filled weekend packed with water sports, home -cooked meals, bonfires, and booze.

They offered a special deal to our program, so it was about 35 of us the went together on this specific weekend. However, once we all assembled at the bus station, where are bus was scheduled to depart, we find out that all buses to Wales have been canceled due to inclement weather.

With absolutely no buses available... people start to FREAK out. Eventually, the pieces started falling together again as different people were coming up with different solutions and better ideas and deals. It kind of felt like we were all on the Amazing Race because everyone was rushed, spazzing, and sharing information.

We ended up buying train tickets, which we had to go back and exchange for the right tickets after our cashier fucked up, and finally got there. And on time to say the least!

We were greeted with a rather large, husky chap called Adam, and a smaller chipper lady who drove us in rickety old mini-buses on one-lane roads to the place.

We got our home cooked meal, we got our booze from their small bar, and we got a taste of adventure.

Adventure 2: Coasteering

The next morning we woke bright and early for breakfast, then split into smaller groups of ten or so people for our activities. My group's first activity- or shall I say adventure- was Coasteering. This includes swimming, cliff jumping and diving, climbing, and general frolicking in the ocean.

During this adventure we all got very close. Literally. Everybody had to be friends since this part of the trip consisted of a lot of hands-on help. Whether we were caught in a whirlpool and everyone's bodies were smashing into each others or we were pulling or pushing people up the cliffs, or onto rocks. Quite the strenuous activity. But a hell of a lot of fun.

Adventure 3: We stripped out of our wetsuits, then a quick break for lunch, and we were out again. This time... surfing! Of course we had to go and put on wetsuits again... this time it sucked because they were wet- which1)made them harder to get on, and 2) made it a lot colder... ya know, standing in 8*C and trying to put on wet, skin-tight outfits. Not very pleasant. But we looked hella fresh in those old-school wetsuits.

That’s right. I went surfing. Surprisingly I got up quite a few times. Wiped out a bunch of times, but I did it! Whenever I would jump off my board I would have that reaction where I immediately would turn around to see if anyone saw, then I realized, no one out here is really watching me. Everyone was doing there own thing too. I just felt like a child who wasn't being paid attention too...every once and a while when I would get up and spin around after I just rode a wave in and I was expecting a thumbs up, or good job, or an excellent. But on occasion, when one of the guides would see me or one of my friends they'd give me my acknowledgment. So that made me feel like I accomplished something.

Riding back from all of these events down by the ocean was like something out of a movie. It was just so goofy; ere you got 12 people squeezed into a rickety old mini-bus, flying 80mph down windy one lane roads, with no shoulder room because the trees come right to the road. Not too mention that are drivers are these California-like boys, but from Wales. Blonde hair, one has dreadlocks...they are crazy. Neo-hippie, pot heads, living off the land; getting paid to go surfing all day. WE-LIKE-TO PARTY… WE LIKE- WE LIKE- TO PARTY!! I swear I heard that song more this trip than I had ever heard before.

Good times when we rolled back to the lodge. Showers, clean clothes, food, drinks. They had fully stocked bar. So we drank again. Me and two of my girls brought some tea with us, so we walked in the direction of the beach and had ourselves a smoke. Upon arriving back, drinking a little more, we decided to smoke more, no more papers, no more bowl, fruit though! Carved ourselves out an apple and smoked right there in the little quad outside the lodge and bar. Went back in, had some good laughs about some awkward people. Maybe those stories to come later… but right now, alls that is needed to know is that it was all a smashing good time.

Can't Handle a little Snow?

Londoners everywhere panic at the sight of snow. If it's not panic, they respond with bewilderment, confusion, seclusion, or amusement.



First, the whole city shuts down because a little bit of snowfall. To be fair, it was their biggest snow in 20 some-odd years, so I guess it is excusable. But everything in the morning was shut down. Buses did not run, the Underground was closed, stores, shops, cafes, banks, the Post Office! All closed. People didn't go in to work, schools were canceled. The city was literally frozen.

If people weren't freaking out from the snow, or hiding from it inside their living rooms, they stared at it in amazement. I took a walk and on the same street I saw 3 different groups of adults working on snowmen in front of their flat buildings. Snow reverts all Londoners to the age of eight. And they will stay that way until the snow melts and they are forced to go back to work.

That night I went to the Union for some drinks and to watch the game. Never have I seen a larger snowball fight. The entire quad was filled with grown-ass boys hurling snowballs across the sidewalks. Hitting each other and anyone who dared walk in between them.

Sitting there, smoking outside of the Union, I thought it quite silly. You know... all the fuss over snow. They are acting like children.
But then I thought to myself, I like the sense of jollity it brings out of this stereotypically uptight people.
Brits are fun too! They know what it is like to want to be a kid again.
I want that too!
So I jumped right in, rolled around in snow, and showed them how to make snow angels.
(Of course that also might of had something to do with the number of pints I had consumed prior to wandering back out into the frigid breeze.)

Tea time

Who would have ever thought....

Melissa, Leah, and I thought it would be great idea.
We making bank.
Tea is awfully tastety. :)

UPDATE!!
CCTV.
News.
Ack.

Curly McBartender

Cheapest bar we can find... young-ish bartenders.
Since I drink a lot, I am usually up at the bar. So Curly is shy and tries to flirt. He's hopeless, really, he is.... but why not flirt? Maybe I'll get a free drink out of it.

Anywho, this guy probably thinks there was more in it for him than that.
I gave him my number one night, a)because i was quite drunk, b) because his attractive manager somehow coerced it out of me and then gave it to him. As they were talking behind the bar , I could not hear anything they were saying, only laughed whenever I could tell I was supposed to, and just smiled and nodded the rest of the time.

Homeboy Curly then proceeded to call me or text me on his off nights... Do you not get it? NO, I do not want to hang out with you unless it involves you mixing drinks for me with a bar in between us.

So he might be a curly-headed creeper, but here are some fun tidbits I learned about him:

He is a recovering alcoholic.
He is Buddhist. (I think this came out as a result of the alcoholism.)
He is an aspiring screen play writer.
In fact- he just finished filming one of his screenplays.
It was a thriller/horror film about the gangs of England. (???)
He is engaged.
He is marrying an American woman whom he has never met. Just so they both can qualify for citizenship in the other's country. (He invited Melissa to the wedding.)

Slurrbowl

At the Union until 5am. After successfully making it home I climbed up the stairs, fell a few times trying to get into pajamas and then in bed, get stuck between my end table and my bed- trying to answer a yeeess to my roommate's inquiry Are you alright?? and then finally passing out. Only to wake up in the morning with a massive hangover, a cold sweat, dry heaving for twenty minutes over the toilet, a cigarette, and slow walk back to my bed to sleep for another four hours. This was how the night ended, let me take you back to how it began...

I was kind of bummed when I realized that the Superbowl started at midnight here. No TV to watch it, and no pubs left open to view it there either. But then, a sign in the Union hallway. Superbowl Sunday: Drinks available until the end of the game! Hell yeah... now to just find someone to go with on a Sunday night.

This might be a tough feat, especially since it is like pulling teeth to get these girls to go out anyother night. So, a few people said they were in, I even mentioned it to one of the guys that was passing by our room when I was talking about it. He stopped in, chatted a while, then asked if he could go with us because none of his roommates were going.

Sunday rolls around, all the girls are out, (psh, figures), but this guy asks me if I am still going. Well sure thing, I just don't want to show up by myself in case no one i know is there. So he meets me at my place, quarter til 11.

Before I number my drinks, let me inform you that I had two pints before I left.
According to guy, I had eight or nine pints at the Union. So total I had ten pints, the beer I was having also happened to be stronger, not to mention how fast I drank all of these. Well point is, I was wasted walking home. And terribly drunk due to the following, miserable, morning the next day.

We found a bunch of the other IE kids and sat over with them. I bought my first beer, he bought the next round, so I said I would get the next. He bought the next eight. I never even had a chance to even offer to buy the next round because he was always on top of it, and he'd just bring me a beer back. Whatever, I spent less money, got drunk on his.

I watched pretty much of the first half. Cheering for my team, placing bets (which I never collected on because I was probably to drunk to remember at the end of the night), and explaining the game to some Brits who couldn't quite understand why they got so many first downs- but they already had one 1st down, why do they just get another one?

Half time, I'm not watching Bruce. Fuck I am drunk now, have the attention span of a two year old, and I want to go play. It snowed that night so there was a bunch of guys outside having a snowball fight. I decided I would join in. After a while of snowball fight fun, I had another smoke and chatted with some British students about the game. And out comes guy with another beer for me.

Second half? I'm not sure if there was a second half. Alls I know for sure is that there were two blurry teams, running at each other. There is no telling where the ball is at or who even has it, nor am I able to read the score or keep track of what quarter we were in.

Alls I really remember from being in there is asking, Am I winning?

On the walk home I remember apologizing for getting too drunk, he grabs me by the shoulders, straightens me out, and lands one on me.
After I pushed him away, I said we should probably keep walking. He had to open my door for me because I could not figure out the keys. I went to bed, and when I woke up the next morning, I had the worst hangover I have gotten in MONTHS, and then I remembered... poor kid. probably thinks that last night meant something... or was a date.

Nope, I'd just rather forget about it and pretend it never happened and carry on like normal. However, it is kind of hard to when friends see him staring at me, and then they say things that imply that he is head over heels. Oh, just stop... then your going to make me feel bad or like I was led him on, and somehow this was my fault. And it wasn't!!

the man who calls himself "Michael"

The mysterious man behind the intercom... who the fuck is he??

One night, many moons ago, Jessi and I are stumbling up the front steps. We stop here for a moment and sit down to share a cigarette. We are both pretty drunk, which means Jessi is really loud, and I am easily susceptible to tomfoolery and other playful tricks. So to hear a man's voice coming from somewhere out of the stoop is a little creepy and mysterious.

I know London is being watched by "Big Brother" all of the time via CCTV (Security cameras set up everywhere), but to actually hear his voice?? That shit was trippy.

Currently, I do not remember what he said, nor do I remember what we said, but the fact remains the same, there is a man who speaks to us from the box on the stoop. We do not know who he is, or where in the building he comes from.

Thus begins the search for "Michael". So, when ever I was out on the stoop alone or with friends, every guy that came out of the door or walked into it was asked if they were Michael.

It seems like this character was a ghost. No one was or even knew "Michael". After a few more days of questioning and a few more appearances by the mysterious voice that goes by "Michael", Leah finds one guy who she thinks looks like someone who would do such a thing. So we carefully watch him.

At the Lion King I was sitting by the suspect, so I asked him, Are you Michael?, he laughs and said, No, I heard about it though. I didn't think that this was too suspicious because this particular character is friends with one of my roommates, and I am sure she could have shared with him.

However, the next time the voice spoke. He knew who he was talking to, knew us by name.... then he started to get a little attitude. I couldn't tell if he was joking around, or taking our joking a little too serious. Well while some of the girls were having this intense conversation with "Michael", I snuck inside and put my ear to every door to see if I could find the culprit. We figured he has to be close in able to hear us outside in order to pick up his phone to talk over the speaker to us.... Well ladies and gentlemen, we found him. Flat 2, real name: Derek.
Creepy? Weird? Too much time on his hands?

I'm American

Walking home from class, I got my headphones in, when a man stops me.

Man: Excuse me.... uh, I (pointing at self), am American.... and I was... wondering, um, if there is somewhere i can go (pause), to buy some (pause) li-quor (preforms a gesture where he pretends to drink out of an imaginary bottle)?

Me: Yeah, there is a grocery store right there- to the left.

Ah... What? Did he think that I didn't speak English?
Or possibly, did he think I was a moron?

Have you accepted Jesus into your life?

Sainsbury's: The local grocery store.
Last place you would expect a conversion right?
Well, apparently not for the guy behind the cigarette counter.

I'm ordering my Mayfairs, and he asks how my day has been. Great, I say.

What? (His accent is thick. Sounds a bit Northern African maybe. ?)

I said it was great.

Good. Well, I have good news for you. Jesus, (he nods at me), loves you.

aha... what?? is this happening? I am buying cigarettes, not looking for salvation.

Thanks! Jesus loves you too!! And of course this came out in a mocking tone. I felt a little bad about it, I was just too shocked to respond somewhat appropriately. We shortly finish our cigarettes for money exchange and I start to walk away, but apparently he wasn't done yet. Have you accepted him into your life?

WhAT!? I shout because I am walking away from this scene as fast as my legs can carry me.
He asks again, Um, yea! (thumbs up).

Did that just happen?
Selling Jesus at the grocery store. Who knew?

Pub Crawl

An event that encourages socialization. Normally I hate these types of events... but since this event includes beer- why the hell not?

We split into small groups and headed out in different directions. The first pub was cramped. there was a futbol game going on... It was very strange having a group of fifteen walk into this place that seemed like a place to go and kick back a few beers with friends. We were a bit out of place... I guess this teaches you to go on a pub crawl with 15+ people.

The next pub was stuffy. Had a very lofty feel, people had a lot of arrogance and pomp. I was telling all of this to the RA, only to find out this was his favorite place to kick it.... I think I insulted him.


We went somewhere else that night before hitting the Union pub... I do not remember much of it though on account of how much I had to drink at the previous bars in order to have a good time...
so we end up at Da Vinci's. AKA the Union. It is the pub on campus.

As I make my way to the bar, the girls I was with tell me they were headed back.... Well, I say, I still want to drink, so have a nice walk home.

Being left at this pub I have never been to, at my school which I did not get that afternoon's tour of, I had no idea where I was at, nor do I remember the way we came.... however, I saw a bunch of Americans left over that I figured were in my group, so it would be fine.

I talked to Andy for a bit to try and get directions back to the flats. The last time I ask him for directions. So then I found some girls that were going home. They lived in a different building then I did so I had to wait still. Finaly, a curly-headed lady said she lived in my building and she was ready to go.... well she wasn't. I had lost sight of her, and was just like fuck it... I'll figure it out later. I've already been lost in this city, why not make it twice in one day. It'll be a fun adventure.

So instead of finding this girl that I was supposed to walk home with, I got another drink and headed outside to smoke--- by the way, most pubs and restaurants here are smoke free. Weird- Right? Especially because most Londoners seem to smoke--Anyways, I'm outside, I realize that there is no one left here... by "no one" I mean there are no Americans. So, at this point I do what anyone else with no friends would do, I make new ones.

A couple of French guys to my left, or the group of Brits standing behind me. I opted for the Brits behind me because one of the chaps was actually a jolly-looking Irish ginger. I spun around on the bench I was sitting on and strolled on up to them and asked if they care if I joined. They all welcomed me and started chatting right away. Kim, Joe, and Callum. These are my first British friends.

I stayed with them until the pub closed, which was for another hour. They even bought me a beer. And who says they don't buy drinks over here? A pretty girl can always find someone to buy her drinks. Right? They were fun people, the big Irish bloke kept trying to put on his American accent. It was quite hilarious, because apparently everyone from the States is a Texan.

After the bar shut down and they were moving people out I had to reopen my search for Americans. My new mates were helping me and eventually Kim spotted one. I said my thanks and said my goodbyes and made it home with 3 very drunk, very dumb blonde girls, one American boy, and 2 English boys- who I guess were helping us find home(?).
At least I made it one piece.

Musings from day 1

I don't know why I get myself into these things... I'm leaving.
I'm leaving on a big fucking jet plane.

I have no idea what time it is. I have no idea which way is north. I have no idea where it is that I need to go.
Knaresborough Place.

After asking directions, because I see no street signs, I am finally walking up to Knaresborough Place. There is one man standing outside the building and he puts my luggage inside then
directed me in the way the group was head to for lunch.
He didn't give me any street names. He didn't give me a name for where they were going. Only said that i would run into them....couldn't miss 'em. They had just left a minute or so earlier and were on foot.

Well... I didn't run into them, and apparently I can miss them, so i turned around to head back to the flats. The man had disappeared. There wasn't anyone inside. I rang all of the buzzers, no one anywhere. There is no front desk, so if you don't have a key and there is nobody in there.... there is no way you can get in.
I have no key to get in. I can see all of my luggage with the contact numbers inside.
Super.... so i found a Starbucks, thank god.
It is good to know that coffee is the same. Prices too. So I drank coffee and read for about 2 hours. It was darker, so i figured everyone would be back from lunch. I was wrong.

It is dark and it is cold, and nobody has returned yet, so I ran to the hotel right down the road to ask to use their phone. After explaining for ten minutes that i just got into the UK, never been here before, studying abroad, and couldn't get in touch with the people i needed to talk with..... he didn't let me use the phone, the jackass.

Luckily as I was coming out of the hotel, I saw a man coming out of the flats. He was someone's dad (I am assuming the girl was daddy's princess, a spoiled brat because her dad had to come over here to see her off, they rented a car, and he went to the store to buy her and her roommates a shit load of crap for their flat while they were all at lunch). He let me in and I just had to wait.

Wells Court.
At least I am here.