As I sit here, in the living room of my London flat overlooking Kensington Gardens and drinking my rum and tonic, I feel pretty fucking cultured. Granted, I share this flat with 14 other girls on the floor, with three in my bedroom. I feel like I’m on some sort of twisted real world episode. On the bright side, this was the first time I used my real ID to buy alcohol, and I wasn’t laughed at, just scorned because I was a filthy jetlagged American. Even though I was in a daze for most of it, because I have basically been up for two days straight, this is what I can conceive of London so far:
1. It’s really clean. No, like really really clean. What I consider clean is UPENN’s campus, and their sidewalks look like a third world country’s compared to London. They are sparkling white, and we saw a street cleaner go by. Granted, we are staying in the wealthiest part of London, and I might as well burn all my hard earned money with all the pubs and bars within a five block radius, but you only live once. (I don’t know your feelings about reincarnation.) The houses are also adorable and are very white and old. I half expect Oliver Twist to pop out of one of the entrances and ask me for a shilling. Which I won’t give to him. I’m a poor American now, and I don’t want the little street urchin spending it on drugs. Wake up people, this is 2009.2. They know we’re American. Either by our accent, confused expression, or lack of trendy scene-wear...they know. In the International line at the airport, the groups bags were pushed over, I was given the death stare multiple times, and I’m pretty sure a French lady cursed me out when my Prada grazed her. (Excuse me bitch, you should feel blessed, that bag is practically my child) On the streets today when we were unloading, some British man about our father’s ages yelled at us while he ran by on our mobile. Who screams at a group of cute twenty-something year olds? The tired, the old, and the bitter. I give myself another four years.
Tootles for now.
6/18/2009
Today we had orientation and I was a somewhat hung over and very tired child. We went to a college bar last night, at the Imperial. Our tour guide told us that it’s London’s equivalent to our MIT. As study abroad students, we belong to their society…? Basically, I now go to MIT. Or atleast that’s what I’m telling myself. It wasn’t expensive, and I got hard cider instead of beer. It was fucking delicious. They played American music, and someone said they played N*Sync, but I don’t really recall. It was a good transitional bar, I believe half of the people there were American students. I ended up talking to group of guys from ASU, and surprise surprise they all ended up being Jewish. I’ve given up on trying to avoid my people. Apparently we’re everywhere, or at least the places I go. Like Hillel. Fuck my life.
We also walked around London today, and popped into such stores known as TopShop, TK Max, and Urban Outfitters. I’m not buying anything over here. The prices are ghastly, and I’m already living off of the finer things in life. And by that I mean scones from the old bread section, nutella, and generic liquor. They don’t call me classy for nothing. There were too many cute things in TopShop, Urban was literally the same just double the price and sans sale section, and TK Max was the British TJ Max. But you don’t need a degree in rocket science to figure that out, just graphic design.
We also took a stroll through Kensington Gardens. We didn’t get that far, as the place is freaking huge. However, considering I LIVE ACROSS THE STREET I’m sure I’ll get to wander through most, if not all of it. Got to look at some sweet swans and ducks. The squirrels and pigeons weren’t afraid of people either. Damn those casual British vermin.
Day two and still haven’t seen anyone with a monacle, slightly disappointed.
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