What's a Motto?

"What's a motto?"
"Nothin'. What's a motto with you?"
--The Lion King

Saw this at the campus poster sale. Didn't buy it, but I think it's going to be my new motto.

A Room with a View

In Continuation

I have an awesome group of flatmates. They're all really fun, nice people, and they all love doing things as a group--I've heard even more so than other flats. An update on names: the girl from Arizona is Kassy, the other girl from the UK is Ruth, and the guy I forgot is Ben. Apparently we're in the "fun flat," according to all of my UK flatmates' friends who hang out here all the time.

Caitlin (the other girl from Whitman) and I went to the grocery store today. They don't have Cheerios in England, just really sugary stuff, but everything else so far seems mostly normal--just in smaller quantities, which is really nice since there's just one of me. Tonight my flat had "Pizza and Partridge" night, where we all bought and baked personal pizzas and then watched "Alan Partridge," a 90s sitcom set in Norwich. I didn't entirely get some of the British humor, but it was still funny.

First Night

So now that I've had a decent night's sleep and am not "positively knackered," I'll fill you in on my adventures so far.

My flights were great until Amsterdam. The 10 am flight to Norwich was canceled due to weather, so I was stuck in the Amsterdam airport until 5 pm. If you're going to get stuck in an airport, Amsterdam's not a bad one to get stuck in. There's lots of shops, though they mostly sell perfume, and there's a cool restaurant on the top floor that's decked out like a ship, which is awesome.

My flatmates are really fun. There's Taylor and Bob (or Rob, they seem to use both interchangeably), Ed (who doesn't live in this flat but apparently spends all his time here), Harry, and one other guy whose name I can't remember, and Sonia, Zahra, Rachel (who's from Australia), and another girl who's from Arizona. I also met Alec, Kevin, and J.D., who live in the same block of the building, but on different floors. Alec is a northerner, Kevin is Irish, and J.D. is 28, so I'm not really sure if he actually lives in the building, but he's friends with the people in our block.

There was a campus dance party that we went to really late last night (Midnight? The night is young! The party doesn't even get rolling until 2am!). I've decided that I love British clubbing. In the States, everyone agrees that I'm an awkward, terrible dancer. Now I know that my dancing is not awkward, it's British. You just kind of stand around and jostle to the beat. This place was PACKED, and I only saw one couple grinding. One. Instead, we just danced as a group and had a really fun time.

Oh, and they were all impressed over how I could take a shot. Shots over here are only an ounce, not 1 1/2, so it was really easy. We all took shots of Jager, which tastes like black licorice. It didn't burn at all. They should all try taking an American shot of Monarch--anything is easy after that.

The bed sheets are a really weird texture, like dryer sheets, and there aren't any fitted sheets, though I'm not sure if that's a UK thing or a UEA thing.

My flatmates all make fun of each others' accents; Bob gets teased because his is "really posh." He's from a town south of the Thames, and apparently all of the "posh" people live south of the Thames. Also, anything north of the Thames is considered "north," but it isn't until you get past Leicestershire that the accent starts really being "northern." Sonia is from Leicestershire, and her accent is considered to really be more "midlands." Alec gets teased the most because his accent is really northern, though not as northern as the accents in Billy Eliot. Mostly they tease each other for sounding northern--apparently northern accents are their version of the Texas/Alabama twang. And they think Irish accents sound ridiculous. I think they sound attractive. I was literally told to "take a wee drink" from an Irishman last night!

What Can Brown Do For You?

UPS came this morning with my visa and passport! Yay! I'm now leaving for England on Friday morning. Percentage packed: 95. Things are coming together.

I also learned today that on the old British monetary system, a pound was 20 shillings, but there were 21 shillings to a guinea. There were 240 pence to a pound but 252 pence to a guinea. Furthermore, a farthing was a quarter of a pence and a crown was five shillings, but a half-crown was two shillings and six pence, not two shillings and five pence. Logic?

Counting Chickens Before They Hatch

Visa has still not arrived. Called UPS; they said that, while the British Consulate has paid for the shipping, they have not given the package to UPS. So there is no visa on the way. However, the email I received from the Consulate says that they sent the package on the 29th, and it should have arrived on the 31st. Furthermore, the Consulate phone number will not allow me to talk to a human being. FML.

Crisis (Nearly) Averted

I received an email from the British Consulate this morning. My visa has been approved and shipped; it should arrive here tomorrow. Hallelujah. This reminds me of one of my favorite movie quotes from Shakespeare in Love:

"Don't worry, it will all work out."
"How?"
"I don't know; it's a mystery."

Now: packing...