So after a quarter of eating like this and sleeping very little, I guess it's no surprise that my body has given up on me and let me become very very sick.

To kick off finals season, we had a very fun practice in which we just scrimmaged for two hours. I bothered them into taking a group photo. They weren't very pleased. We're a handsome bunch though, aren't we?

Napalm tried to help me study for bio, but it didn't really help. Then I felt the ten week feels and had Anna capture it.

And then puppy-viewing study breaks.

And of course, we had our gift exchange and took these pictures to pretend we like each other. Sipping champagne and gifting... the day before a final.

Happy holidays, friends.

it's almost christmas and the last time i posted was in august

Oops.

I blame the general sense of emptiness Irvine creates. Other than the void that is slowly eating away at my soul and will to live, I think I've had a really busy and productive (questionable) fall quarter. I'm in my penultimate quarter as an undergrad, and the realization is dawning on me and now I think I'm just constantly in a state of self-delusion that keeps me from just breaking down and throwing myself off the nearest highway overpass.

So to begin this long recap, I went on a short trip to Malaysia early on in September. It's always a reminder how different my life would have been if I grew up there instead of the US. I'm not saying that it would have been a bad thing to grow up there (curry laksa errrryday), but I would get into so much more trouble for being me than I do here. After a detour to Langkawi, we saw my mom's mom and I briefly thought about writing about it, but I'll save it for another day.

This is a picture of the Marina Bay Sands hotel from the Gardens by the Bay. Singapore was our last stop. The last time my mom went to Singapore, she went with my grandparents and her siblings. She took my brother and I here and we took a million photos on our iPhones that will never do them justice. I honestly don't know what to do with the photos I've taken from here. Suggestions (other than post them on Facebook, bleh) ?

After a whirlwind of rushed traveling, I came home to pack up my life into the back of my car to drive the 300-odd miles down to my new apartment. No, seriously, I had a day in between arriving back in California and having to drive down to the southern half. It was kind of a relief, to be honest. I had been home for four months, and that's all the motivation I need to never move home again (Sorry, Ma). As per usual, we started the term by celebrating Lauren's birthday, which coincidentally solidified all of us being of legal US drinking age. We went to a rooftop bar in DTLA, and I'm still trying to piece together the remnants of that night three months later. Twas fun, and I'm genuinely afraid to divulge anything else.

I did something kind of adventurous this quarter and joined the roller hockey club. The fastest way to understand/appreciate a sport is to play it. My initial expectations for this were that they were just a bunch of people (girls and guys) who shot pucks around and had friendly scrimmages. Nope. So I don't know where I got the impression that it was a gender-balanced team, but to date, there are three girls on a team of almost twenty people. Whoops. There are no individual games, just tournaments in different cities, we have a coach, and have practices. Guh. I had also overestimated my fitness and some couple of weeks ago strained/tore my quad. Guuuuh. But, it hasn't been all bad things. In fact, I really enjoy being part of a team, and everyone is there to have fun. Plus, I enjoy making everyone cringe with my bruise snaps. It's fun. At the very least, I can always say I scored one goal. No one can ever say I trolled roller hockey. Never. Next thing I wanna do is learn how to stop without falling on my ass.

It was recently Thanksgiving, so I went home. This Thanksgiving was extra important because it was my mother's birthday. I'm not sure if it's legal to post it on the Internet, but she's hit the big 50. For years, she's been moaning about how she's never gone to the top of the hiking trail behind our house. So after some planning mishaps about a surprise brunch, we scrapped that, and I took her and a bunch of her friends hiking. I think she was going to strangle me halfway up for thinking this is what she wanted, but I mean, hey, what are endless mimosas in comparison to getting up before 8AM and hiking 3,000 feet up? The important part is that we made it up. All the way to the tippy top. So Happy Birthday, Mumsy. Look how pretty it can be up there when it actually rains vs. when we're smack dab in the middle of summer and breathing on something might start a fire.

 Overate as usual but didn't go out for the Black Friday madness. I did participate in some online shopping, but I feel endlessly guilty. One, for spending tons of money I don't really have yet and two, for feeding into a machine that contributes to myriads of things I don't believe in...but that 30% Zara discount. I hate myself. Anyway, Zach came up the next day and we went to the Sharks v. Ducks game that Saturday. Mom had the hookup for row 1 seats, but she's not that into hockey. Seeing the opportunity to employ my new appreciation for the sport, of course I pounced on those. Zach embarrassed us by being the only one in three sections to have a Ducks jersey on. We sat by the most obnoxious Sharks fans though. Just those three people who think it's remotely funny to use the words "jimmeny-cricket" in earnest. After the 20th time, it just gets real annoying real fast. They also ordered 8 rounds of Jack and Cokes, so it's not like their insults against the Ducks got any better as time went on. Shittalking is part of the experience, I just wish they were good at it. I think Zach may have ruined my chances of being a good Sharks fan. Having been introduced to the game by watching Ducks games, I know more about that team than I do about the Sharks. All I know really is that Couture is amazing and Pavelski is a babe and Scott is a GIANT. It was only a good game in the third period after they pulled beautiful ginger god Frederick Anderson out. Poor guy. But yeah. These seats. Every time someone got checked into the boards, it's like I was getting checked into the boards. We were close enough to make intimate eye contact with both teams. Pretty sure that's what Zach was doing anyway. Is that flirting? Is that how one flirts? What does it mean when they look your way, hold eye contact, and spit a little? Is it going down? Did Zach just snag a date with Cory Perry? Why is nothing in this scenario remotely surprising to me?

Yup. Pretty cool weekend. Enjoy these other photos from the Japanese Friendship Garden + Charlie derpface bonus.

 

canals + tulips aka TFIOS

Let it be known that I did not enjoy The Fault In Our Stars like every other person and their mothers. It was a sad story, but it also pissed me off because what teenagers were that eloquent and witty and why wasn't there an Augustus Waters equivalent when I still believed in romantic mush like that? And how pretentious was that unlit cigarette metaphor. GUH. Nevertheless, I do applaud you John Green for tugging at my heart strings about Peter van Houten's backstory. He was the only part I liked.

If you're wondering what else John Green got right, Amsterdam is damn romantic though. I would love to go back. I almost went back before I came back to California (but bank account statements said otherwise). Yes, the allure of, shall we say, illicit activities is an attraction of this city, but it is not the only one. I am so smitten.

Fun fact: the average height of people in the Netherlands is much much much much much taller than Christine or I. Emerging from the train station, we immediately had to seek out a map. The only one we found, however, was very very very much taller than either Christine or I. Mattie, the only one who could probably comfortably read this map, was on her own quest for a toilet. Using my camera phone to snap pictures of the taller regions of the map, and Christine using her hawk eye abilities to locate which areas to take pictures of, we got a good system of pointing and picture-taking going. We turned to the sound of "Um, excuse me do you guys need help?" and were met with the very entertained looks of two very tall, very blonde Dutch men.

Another thing you don't see on this video: we went back for stroop waffle McFlurries at least three times in the span of two days. Also not on this video: we went to the red light district and had a crazy night involving a couple prostitutes. Kidding. But we went and it made us feel kind of sad.

I am a little obsessed with tulips, by the way.

tourist waffles

We started the trek to Brussels early in the morning. So early, in fact, that the hostel had not yet put out breakfast. St. Christopher's Inn next to Gare du Nord has the best bread and butter. I thought I was going to marry all of the bread and butter in France. By "marry", I mean consume. Anyway, being denied early access to breakfast, Mattie, Christine, and I headed to Gare du Nord, stomachs empty and anxious to find our train. If you're wondering where Maxine is, we had to abandon her because her love of French lingerie kept her detained. We got to the station much too early, so the logical thing to do was have Christine run (literally, run) back to the hostel to grab an entire plastic bag of bread. She ended up slipping, scraping her knees on the well-paved streets of Paris. You can take the girl out of France, but then France will try to maim her. Paris is feisty. The bread was really good though.

Once in Brussels, it was also too early for anything to be open. With Mattie's data-enabled phone (everyone, take note that AT&T sucks and T-Mobile is the only one who understands study abroad needs) and a shitty map in hand, we made our way through the fog to the hostel. Understand that up until this point, we'd been enjoying balmy -gasp- mid-sixty degree Fahrenheit weather. That, to us, was like a SoCal summer after having been in the UK for four months. So off into the cold we go, finally finding refuge in our hostel. This hostel was luxury compared to what we had been staying in. PRIVATE BATHROOM + ONLY THE THREE OF US IN THERE. By this destination, we had walked about 10+ miles a day, so we were ready to have a chill day in Brussels.

Apparently, you can do Brussels in a day, and we had this nifty map to tell us how. The highlights of this have to be us wandering around for cheap Chinese food in Belgium and somehow wandering into a very interesting market place. This particular marketplace was peculiar because everyone was only there to watch it end. Once it ended, a lot of the vendors actually gave away a lot of their wares for free or abandoned it on the ground. Or maybe the highlights of this leg of the trip was scarfing down cheap uncooked convenience store veggies because we are cheap and had a bouquet of pommes frites earlier (fancy fries/chips to you) and dancing contemporary dance in our beautiful, private hostel room.

Whatever the case...pay attention to those waffles in this video. Gor-geous.

we are the champignons

Otherwise known as that time we went to Paris.

I've never been so afraid to speak in my entire life. I don't speak a lick of French. On top of that, the only only two words I do know, bonjour and merci, were so poorly pronounced that the Parisians who had to come in contact with my awful French immediately switched to English, much to their irritation. I spent half my conversations there apologizing to French people and the other half asking Mattie for help. It wasn't my favorite stop.

But it was so so so beautiful, and the butter was so so so good. And the men were all so cute in the skinny French kind of way. And well dressed. I had to wipe the drool off my keyboard, sorry. It's a city worth a revisit, and I hope I get to go back someday...but with French speakers.

Some key points:

• The wine we're drinking in front of the Eiffel Tower was really cheap but not good. All because we didn't have a bottle opener. Shame on us.
• I think we redefined cheap. At the hostel, we had an assembly line fashioning sandwiches out of the bread, ham, and cheese provided at the free breakfast. Oops.
• Climbed the Arc de Triomphe for free thanks to Mattie's basic French.
• Saw the Moulin Rouge at night (not filmed because my phone died). It is definitely not as romantic as the movie makes it seem. It was in the seediest area.
• Lingerie shopping in Paris is so fun.
• Paul is a born tour guide.

the grass is literally greener on the other side

And I'm not even abusing the use of the word "literally" here. It is actually greener on the other side of the pond.

England

California

England

California

England

Califonia cows are not the happiest cows.

So yeah. I'm back in California, mourning the loss of afternoon teas and English accents. Let's not talk about how empty inside I feel right now. Instead, here's what May looked like for me.

The end is near

Today my time as a student at the University of Bristol came to an end. I sat my last exam at the Passenger Shed at Temple Meads this morning. It's been a privilege to study here amongst some of the most brilliant students and staff in the world. When you study abroad here, you actually study. It's definitely had its ups and downs, but it's been nothing but rewarding. The sun is setting on my time here, and that makes me sadder than anyone could ever believe. But I have things to do and wonderful people to see, so onwards into the sunset I go, liquor and polaroids in hand.

Meanwhile, I'm just going to suffer through the mild anxiety attacks I have as I find out people are leaving for home in silence.

Enjoy these photos as I go hyperventilate.

Blackcurrant and clotted cream ice cream. Gastronomic orgasm.

Good morning, sunshine. The earth says hello.

P/C: Mattie || Walking to City Centre formal. Pre wine bottle escapades.

Hello, London. We meet again.

Finished our exams. Is this what heaven feels like?

Mirror selfies in the Royal Fort Garden.

cliche eurotrip stop one: barcelona

I didn't sleep the night before because I hadn't packed. Nothing surprising here.




Things you should know:

• We didn't know that the white packets that came with our churros were sugar packets. I thought they were wet wipes for your hands. We figured it all out when I went to wipe my hands and only heard sugar shaking around in there. 
• There is an astounding amount of attractive male vendors at La Boqueria.
• Christine will feel jipped over strawberries no matter what deal she gets.
• Parc Guell is not pronounced Parc Guy-ell.
• Sangria is amazing. Simply amazing.
• Paella tastes better once you've waited an hour for it.

we went to scotland like two months ago

And this is me catching up. And of course I used this song. It's as awesome as David Tennant's face. That man is so beautiful.




The morning began with me panic-emailing my seminar leader because I severely underestimated the time it would take me to ride the bus to the airport. She let me know it would be okay to miss the seminar, and I ran to the bus station to find the next airport shuttle. Crisis averted. However, Christine somehow managed to book a different flight from me (foreshadowing going on here, hmm?), so it was a solo trip for me for a couple hours. It was kind of exhilarating, though. Alone in a different city, trying to find my way to the hostel, seizing life by the balls. Just kidding.

Does anyone from the UK want to get married?

Because the whole applying for citizenship thing is confusing, and I don't want to leave. Several things: I'm aware that marriage isn't a 100% foolproof method of getting citizenship*; I should be revising for my last exam; I feel the passage of time robbing me of every precious moment here; and I'm pretty sure this sentence isn't punctuated correctly.

The other night I booked my last and final National Express shuttle to Heathrow. I did not check the "return trip" box and felt my throat knot up. To remedy said knot, I pulled a Rekorderlig out of the fridge and promptly started sipping on it.

For the first time in forever I'm posting on the blog

Clap your hands if you understood the reference. If done correctly, your clap should have registered on your computer's microphone and triggered the video to start. If not, try again.

This is how far behind I am on the videos/life. This was from March 24th or something. It was from March.

It should be noted that Mattie, Daniel, and I had been out the previous night, dancing with a wild hen party (or at least Daniel did). We were very afraid we weren't going to be up in time to catch the train to Oxford with the rest of our group. But we made it with no casualties. Which is saying something. Do you know how much rum we had? Neither do we.

For the first half of the day, we just wandered around aimlessly in part because we got separated from the rest of the group. I had a banana from my lunch that I had yet to eat and I cradled that sucker for the entirety of the day as you can see. Daniel would make a fantastic tour guide. He gave us a private ad libbed tour until we wandered into the chapel. I honestly can't remember what anything is called. Hahaha. Oops. We reunited with our group and headed to our tour, led by this really lovely lady who was really enthusiastic about living in Oxford and kept referring to the town/campus like it was a team. A lot of Cambridge jibes were made, and all the while I was silently laughing at the thought of any of my program assistants from UCSS listening to this tour (miss you guys if any of you are reading this). I'll visit Cambridge again someday.

After the tour (not advisable to wear your cute heeled booties to a walking tour), the group split up once more and so that left our little trio exploring the grounds of New College (I think) where that one scene of Harry Potter was shot. The one in the fourth movie when Draco is about to hex Harry when his back is turned, but Mad Eye (who was really Barty Crouch) transfigured Draco into a ferret. Just take a minute to soak in the Potterheadness of that sentence. Afterward, we took a pleasant stroll through the grounds, and Mattie, gasp, stood on the lawn. The nerve. The previous night caught up with us, forcing us to make for the train station. I fell asleep on the train ride underneath my raincoat, so naturally Mattie took pictures.

I also have to say that there must have been something seriously wrong with me that day because everything I heard was a sexual innuendo. Usually I can turn that radar off, but that day I was just busting out at the simplest remarks. I always cut out the sound in my videos, but holy hell I was laughing at everything Daniel or Mattie said. There was a lot of giggling.

insert clever pun about ireland and being lucky

I want to write about Ireland. I do. But I will have to edit this post at another time when it's not 6 AM.

the potterheads go to lacock

"After all this time?"

"Always."

I would have to hang my head in shame if I spent six months in the UK and never saw a Harry Potter film location. After quite a bit of mishaps with the train tickets and bus schedules and directions, Christie, Maria, Christine, Anna, and I got to Lacock Abbey where Godric's Hollow, the place where Dumbledore found Slughorn, some Hogwarts corridors, Snape's dungeon, and the room for the Mirror of Erised. But seriously, we had a fun time getting lost before even getting to the Abbey. In the video, the guy talking to Christie at the station is drawing us a map to get to the buses, and we still managed to cock it all up and get lost anyway. It was hilarious.

can i has cheezburger

"I'm allergic to cats." - Danielle.

Danielle loves cats, but like the true hipster masochist she is, she went to the cat cafe anyway. I wrote about the experience for the New University (zot zot). So instead of writing it again, you can read it here. #lazyAF

that one time i went to london

Why am I not cold and damp? Is... is this sun?

I went to London the first weekend of March to visit Danielle. We planned to go to the cat cafe later that day, but we had a whole day to kill, so Victoria Park and Chinatown it was.


After brunch at this super delicious lakeside cafe, we wanted to walk off our food babies around the park. We should have just followed our hearts on the second breakfast idea, but our more rational, money-saving minds said otherwise. So around the park we went. Yes, we are 21-year-old adults playing on a bunch of these playground things, but really, why wouldn't you play on these things? Do you see these things? They are so much cooler than the ones at home. Probably because no one will sue because their little joy-suckers children are incapable of navigating a playground without getting nailed in the head. Naps and playgrounds are wasted on kids. The spinny selfie bit in the video? It was a wind up carousel. As in, no one had to push you because you wound it up, hopped on, and went on a pleasant spin. So cool. Danielle has pictures of me failing at the rope jungle gym. At one point, a mom nearby commented that I had the wrong shoes on, but I didn't care. She wasn't my mom, and there's no way she could have told mine. Right?

Being in the UK, my life has been pretty devoid of Asian cuisine, and I have the cravings. It's not like I eat a whole ton of Asian food when I'm at school. It's like I know I can't have it easily, so I want it more. This hunger for the food of my people led us to Chinatown where we found the holy grail of instant noodles in a supermarket for really cheap. We got pretty excited and bought two 5-packs each. I also scooped a mini bottle of Sriracha sauce because 7 weeks without Sriracha is just wrong. Outside the grocery store, we basically got ambushed by this crafty little Chinese woman beckoning us to go into her dim sum shop. We had no choice. We had to get dim sum at that point, which meant we had yet another food coma to walk off. Down through Trafalgar, the Thames, and Tate Modern we went. Then on to the best part yet: cats in a cafe.




Anyway, I'll do the cat cafe in another video. My retinas are burning from staring at this screen.

groceries and

Yeah, so surprise. In between all the super cliche study abroad things I'm doing, I have to do the really everyday things, too. Grocery shopping is the bane of my existence. Being here has added another dimension to my hate/love relationship with food. I love eating. Love. Nothing is as comforting when you're miserable as eating your weight in carb-heavy mac 'n' cheese, lasagne, spaghetti, basically anything at Sage Bistro in Culver City, a heaping of ice cream, chips (the British kind topped with garlic mayo), whatever. I will find it, stuff it down my face hole, and sleep like it's no one's business. Lately, I've been only really hating food because buying it gets in the way of the other desires I have such as clothing and traveling. It's come down to "Do you want to eat something other than zucchinis (courgettes, for those in the UK) and instant noodles (the Shin Ramyun kind is the best ever) or do you want to go to Ireland for the weekend?" I've been eating zucchini/courgettes and instant noodles for the last week, but I treated myself with an aubergine and rice. The receipt for my groceries was £8 last week. Don't do the conversions, but that's actually pretty cheap. If I could only stop buying drinks, I would have so much more money.


I should post a video about the cat cafe and general London shenanigans pretty soon. Then another one about Lacock Abbey where they shot a bunch of Harry Potter scenes. Just been feeling kind of unproductive/ inadequate lately. Music suggestions anyone?

blame toy story/ i donated my clothes today

It was sunny all of today. I finally got to utilize my sunglasses. Everyone laughed when I packed them to go to England. Now who's laughing?

So there's going to be a series of boring, everyday posts coming up. If you read this blog for exciting travel details and the accompanying video, please accept my sincerest apologies. My wallet is not deep enough to afford a different location every week. I would have to choose between eating and traveling (but more on that later, I guess).