Photos for October

So, I obviously haven't written for a while, but that doesn't mean I haven't done anything interesting! Instead of doing a long recap, I just decided to put up a bunch of pictures...which are probably more interesting than reading me blab on for forty hours.








Gloomy Edinburgh streets.
























Halloween with my flatmates Sophie and Lottie. They are pretty much just wearing my average wardrobe. Apparently I enjoy the theartrical :)


A church across from my flat.















Looking up to the High St.

TONIGHT ONLY - SCOTLAND VS US

After inhabiting this beauteous country for a month, it is time to delineate the pros and cons of moving to a foreign country. There are certain things that I actually miss about the United States, which is perhaps a good thing since I will have to live there next year, but there are so many wonderful things to enjoy here. In a way, knowing what each offers individually gives me something to cherish and something to look forward to. Although, there are certain items which I am struggling without.

What I Love in Scotland:
1. Pickled Spread: it sounds gross, it looks kind of gross...but it is sooo good with cheese and bread
2. Lemonade: as in a sparkling soda that has lemon flavoring, great mixer
3. Bagpipes and Kilts: the obvious choice but they are icons for a reason...and they're hot
4. University of Edinburgh Main Library: In high school I boasted with pride in achieving my personal goal of not checking out a book from the library for 3 years, but the EU Main Library has so many sexy volumes that I can't stay away. My average is around five books a week and, being the dirty thing that it is, it always leaves me wanting more.
5. Cafes! Yeah, so Europe totally has our asses kicked in this respect. I love that every street is pretty much guaranteed to have a cafe or two on it. I used to have dreams where I had an IV of caffeine dripping straight into my veins and now moving to Edinburgh made that dream a reality. I really couldn't be happier.
6. Cadbury: It comes in every shape, size and flavor you could ever want and it's everywhere! And we only get it once a year in the states! The Easter Bunny is such a mac ... and Santa has some explaining to do.
7. Cinemas: I kid you not, there are four cinema within five blocks of me. ::drool:: Two of them are art houses and the other two are blockbuster, perfect combination. AND the prices are still cheaper than in the US even with the exchange rate. We are such suckers.
8. Student Discounts: Everywhere you go students can usually expect a discount of 10% (except for the bastards at Edinburgh Castle...10.20 pounds for entry ::cough cough rip off cough cough::)
9. UK coverage of US news: Never have I actually consciously stayed tuned to the news, except as it related to the break-up of Brad and Jen (aka "the first sign of the apocalypse"... that high of viewership can't be bought). But since coming to the UK I have actually been interested in US politics and I have been incredibly surprised at the amount of coverage it gets. It's actually really enlightening, to truly know how much we are watched internationally. Just this evening I watched a 30 minute program on the elections and they were in the headlines for every broadcast today. The atmosphere on the talkshow was so much less hostile and caddy than I have ever seen before. The politicians actually discussed the topics, instead of propagating. I recommend checking it out online.
10. The Pace: It wasn't something that I noticed right away, in fact I had come expecting to feel a wave of calm and didn't see any difference. People seemed to walk about the same speed, cars still drove a little above the speed limit, business people in suits still run from meeting to meeting but once I began to live the life for a few weeks I noticed that it wasn't a physical difference but an attitude difference. There isn't the same hurried, frantic, obsessive strain in the air, people expect the same quality but take the human element into account. Here it seems that there is a more general acceptance of friends, relaxation, and partying as valid elements of a well-rounded life. Maybe it's just me, I am still an outsider, but I don't want to go back to the frenzy...I like this pace, it's holistic.
11. Transportation: I can walk to every possible thing I could need in five minutes and anywhere in the city in 30. Besides that, there are buses running across the city constantly and throughout the region for only a pound. Trains are amazing! Although they can be expensive they are now my favorite form of long distance travel. (Driving is still my favorite transportation activity, but it's not about getting from one place to another...it's the feeling of it.) Plus, their buses have two decks! It's so pimp.
12. Diet Soda: I can't explain it, but it really is just better here.

What I Miss about the US:
1. Family and Friends: Not to be cliche or sappy, but you really can't replace the people. While I love Scotland, home will always be where the people I love are.
2. Fresh Produce: What I wouldn't do for a ripe nectarine! They do have apples and bananas in good supply here, but beyond that fruit and veggies are a bit of a rarity.
3. Vanilla Yogurt: Every time I go to the market I find myself staring blankly at the ten thousand types of yogurt and wonder how it is that simple vanilla does not appear.
4. exorbitant amounts of American treats: If vanilla yogurt wasn't enough - After trying to find the ingredients for a few holiday recipes, I ranted for days about the godless fiends who couldn't supply __ to the world! (fill in the blank with: candy corn, pumpkin puree, butterscotch chips, caramel chews, chocolate chips in large bags, rootbeer, cream soda, hot apple cider, marshmallow cream)
5. Exchange rate: It kills me...1.89 dollars to the pound! Then you have to add on the transaction fees. The bastards are taking all my money!! -- okay, my parent's money!!

One last point: It is my belief that a Mars bar and Milkyway are exactly the same...I should know, back to back comparisons. My conclusion, Jedi mind tricks. It's a good thing we all know that Snickers is the clear Supreme Head of the chocolate covered nuget candy bars. (oo0, controversy)

Stirling - AKA Pretty Pretty Castle

Basically, I forgot to write this post at all when I went and now it's been too long to really want to rehash all the details. And also, my camera was broken at that time...so no pics from me, but thanks to Google you can get an idea. I remember having a really nice day and that the castle was exceptionally well kept. All in all, good times.

The Haunted City

Yah!! I have finally made it to Edinburgh!! (Okay, so it's been a month, yesterday...but at least I am updating, right?)

Instead of describing the ins and outs of everything I have done in my new home town, I thought I would just give you a brief overview.

Katie and I arrived in Edinburgh on September 9, to our great relief. Although we both loved the sights, the constant traveling was a bit taxing. Now, my flat was our homebase. Our first impression of Scotland was quite stereotypical. Right as we got off the train and stepped out onto the platform, we spotted a group of Scotsmen in full regalia; kilt, stockings with poofy fuzz balls, black loafers, frilled dress shirt, and plaid cap tipped just-so. Then we walked out of Waverly Station to the sound of bag pipes from a street performer on Princes Street. I love this country. Every single tourist shop blares bag pipe music and pushes "Authentic Highland Wool"...believe me, I have gone in to every tchotchke store in the city.

I met my new flatmates one by one. They are all terribly nice and very studious. Although they are all Freshers, they take their studies pretty seriously but do know how to relax and enjoy the scenery. We even had a roomie dinner, which Sophie and I cooked. We made pizza (btw, don't come here expecting to be able to buy pizza dough...learned that the hard way), courgettes with feta, garlic bread, and we all contributed to desert (Lottie's grandma's apple strudel, Sophie and I's honey ice cream, and the two Kirstens' supplied cake and drinks). It was like having a family dinner. We sat around for hours chatting and laughing. It's good times. My flatmates are great. They are my constant movie buddies; it is a blessing to have people that will just take my advice on a movie! No bickering for hours, just say a movie time and off we go :)

Whoa...talk about a sidetrack. Back to Katie and I. Well, Katie was quite a blessing. She helped me get settled in and even bought me my first tea mugs! The trade off was that we had to hike a few miles so that we could go skipping down the aisles of Waitrose (a UK market she and I had become very attached to). We even fit in some sightseeing before she left me forever. (After a few short days here Katie left me to go back to the states, so since then I have been flying solo.)

<-- Katie passed-out: Courtesy of moi. Hehe...permanent marker. My homage to Garden State (see forehead).

Edinburgh Castle: This was the capital city's royal residence for a few hundred years. Now, it's a military base. It has the most spectacular views in the city and it is visible from just about anywhere in the city. As my Aunt Diane said, "Everyone has a view of that frickin' castle!"

Palace of Hollyrood House: This is Edinburgh's current royal residence just down the Royal Mile from Edinburgh Castle and right across from the new Scottish Parliament. It is a sight to be seen. The most spectacular and haunting aspect of the whole palace, though, is the ruins of the abbey. It is absolutely gorgeous. Something about it really grabbed me.

The Elephant Cafe: On a university sponsored cafe crawl, Katie and I had a cup of joe in the same place where Harry Potter was written!! Oh yeah, we are that cool. It has a pretty good mocha, too. JK Rowling picked a good spot, I dig it.

The Pub Down the Street from Me: (that's not it's real name) It was the first place we ate when we came to Edinburgh and it was good. They have veggie burgers for 2 pounds and a student discount.

<--Me at Early Hour: after Katie dragged me out of bed so we could go to the market before her taxi arrived. She is evil.

Edinburgh is a majestic city. It may not have as many landmarks as London or Paris, but it is full of history and a lively atmosphere. Apparently, it also has a deadly atmosphere (oh, that was smooth..no?); it known as "The Haunted City" and "The City of the Dead" because it has a reputation for ghost sightings. I personally have yet to see any apparitions, but I look forward to being introduced. Of course Halloween is all the rage here, which is quite exciting for me. All the stores have their displays out and the city is gearing towards fright fests and costume extravaganzas!! I love it here.

After Katie left, my Aunt Diana and Uncle George stopped by and I hooked up with them for a few outings. Diana and I went to the National Galleries where she completely spoiled me with admission to the Ron Mueck exhibition, lunch, and tea. The Scottish National Gallery has a pretty forbidable collection which kind of took me by suprise. It will definitely be worth a second visit.

The Many Glories of Bath

Ah, Bath...my sweet little city tucked away in the western hills of England. I was excited to go to Bath, but nothing can really live up to its splendor. There aren't any huge cathedrals, no historic battle grounds, and not even a double decker...but man is it a great place. Katie and I both agreed that it quickly ascended to number one favorite spot on our list. It had everything we could ever want; namely, great food, relatively cheap prices, and a gorgeous location.

I was skeptical, at first, of the hostel we had booked but once we arrived I knew we made the right choice. Right off the main square, the little bar/hostel was everything we needed. It had clean rooms, free breakfast, and a really nice bar. The hostel even had a "chill-out room" on the illusive top floor where we met some firefighters from NorCal, of all places. It was great! After a week and a half of going non-stop, we had a relaxed place to rest and we even stole some time away to see a movie. (Sleepers...so incredibly traumatizing...all I have to say is Kevin Bacon as a child molester ::shiver::)

We spent our days just roaming about freely, walking every square inch we could. We got up early to see the Roman Baths, then trekked over to the Bath Costume Museum, and then, we entered into Heaven...the Tea Room at the Jane Austen Centre. What a blissful experience.

Taking our time to enjoy the walls cluttered with Austen imagery, we ascended the steep steps up to the top floor of the little building at the corner of King and Gay. The Tea House was made up of two cozy rooms on the second story of the Jane Austen Center. Two large windows in the main dining area looked out onto a small cobblestone street alongside a charming lush park. The day was beautiful and blue, so when given our choice of tables we sat where the view was the best. The hostess was a jolly, sweet-tempered young woman and when we took our places said to me, laughing a little, "So, you got the best seat in the house. Well, you'll be dining with Mr. Darcy today." She pointed across from me to the mantel of the fireplace tucked up against the wall behind Katie. A large portrait of Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy was staring pleasantly in my direction. "Oh, yes! We will indeed," I said, smiling at Katie who was mopping up a slight bit of drool that crept out of her loose jaw.

After perusing the menu we decided on the "Tea with Mr. Darcy" as it was suiting for the occasion. This included two cakes of our choosing, one cucumber sandwich, one Brie sandwich, a pot of "Jane Austen Blend Tea," and two plain scones. It was a veritable feast of sweet and carby goodness. I still was not sure what cake I wanted exactly, it was between the brownie (of course) and the tiramisu but the hostess’s description of the brownie as "soft", "melty", and "quite chocolaty" sold me on the spot. The tea was brought forth and we were soon served all our goodies. It was as if angels descended from above and sprinkled little bits of Heaven onto our taste buds. In other words, it was damn good. So, Katie and I spent the afternoon chatting over tea and soaking up the sun. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

During our visit in Bath we saw the Bath Abbey, the Bath Costume Museum, the Roman Baths, a little art gallery converted from a small chapel set in a picturesque cemetery, we walked along the canal and gardens, and ate at a 600 year old restaurant that served "Sally Lund's Buns" and still, my favorite part was the Jane Austen Tea Room. It all was amazing. Bath was calm, fun, and highly recommended.

Lesson number one: Learn French

Our next stop, after Dover was historic Paris. This was sort of the pinnacle of the trip, because we were spending the most time and money there. We stayed in a lovely little hotel in the heart of the Latin Quarter. We were just two blocks from the Musee d'Orsay, two blocks from the Lourve, and three blocks from Notre Damn. Rue Saint Germain and Rue Saint Michel were just a hop, skip, and a jump away (perhaps with a few more hops, I wasn't counting too accurately). By the time we made the ferry trip from Dover to Calais, then train from Calais to Lille and Lille to Paris we were exhausted. It was, yet again, another day devoted to travel. But, none-the-less, we put on our walking shoes to catch the last bit of sunlight.

Paris, as always, was absolutely beautiful. It was actually really hot, too (which I, in my infinite wisdom, hadn't prepared for). Still, I perservered! And I went forth to enjoy the journey. It was at this point, thought, that something began to creep up on me. With every passing moment we spent in Paris, I had the feeling that I had left something behind. Something just wasn't right. Only in hindsight can I identify it with perfect clarity, a backbone. I completely lost all confidence in my ability to communicate which may or may not have been due to the fact that I couldn't actually communicate. Who knows? These things are so abstract. Well, let's just say that I felt obligated to let everyone else be right, just so it wouldn't seem like I was ignorant. Brilliant plan! Right?! My wallet says otherwise. To this end I found myself
with crap French batteries, a sandwich, and a 50 Euro portrait of myself (oh, yes...classy I know.)

Anywhooo...we, of course, saw all the sights.

• Eifel Tower (with brownie...yum)

• Notre Damn: We saw this crazy video at night where they had the whole history of the cathedral narrated by the founder, whose been dead for centries.

• Musee d'Orsay: This was actually my first visit to the museum and I thought it was fabulous.
  P.S. He judges you.

• Llourve: On Wednesday nights they keep the museum open until 9:30, and from 6-9:30 it's half price. It was pretty much great. I was pretty exhausted by the time we actually got there, though...so after a visit to my favorite pieces (Vermeer, Venus Di Milo, Statue of Nike), I went to my favority spot in the whole palace; the basement cafe! Hot chocolate all the way!
  

• And then, the obligatory stops at every possible patisserie, boulangerie, choclaterie, and cafe. Oh god, it was so good. So, so good. So much chocolatey goodness. There was even this chocolaterie right next door to our hotel, yeah 5 Euro on two pieces of chocolate...but so worth it.

For me, I think the highlight attraction was Shakespeare and Co. Yes ladies and gentlemen, the very bookstore where, in my most beloved Before Sunset, Jesse (Ethan Hawke) meets Celine (Julie Delpy) for the first time in ten years!! I nearly cried out when I saw it...okay, so I did cry out and slightly embaress Katie when I saw it. But come on!! It was way too exciting to just walk past. Who doesn't love that scene! Oh, man...I have to calm myself down. ::supress, supress::

So that's pretty much the Paris, in a nutshell. BUT, I should also say that it was at this point that my camera started to go on the fritz and after Bath, it's capabilities to take photos was no more. I deeply mourn its loss. A moment of silence, please.

Ahem...I also have included the two journal entries I wrote about the experience:

September 7, 2006

Right now, Katie and I are sitting on a train in Paris, which will soon be heading toward Bologne where we will make a transfer for our final destination of Calais. At this moment, I couldn’t feel anymore like an American tourist stereotype. The morning started off with an early ‘wake-up’ call from the front desk, telling us that our 6 am taxi had arrived.

Katie: “What time is it?”
Olivia: (looking at my cell phone/alarm clock) “Three minutes to five. Why?”
Katie: “Because it sounded like he said our 6 am taxi was here.”
Olivia: “Oh…”
Katie: (presumably checking the time on her own watch) “Wait. It is 6 o’clock.”
Olivia: “Shit.”

Apparently, I had not noticed or bothered to change my cell phone clock to an hour ahead for out stay in Paris. 10 minutes later, in world record time, we were out of bed, dressed, packed, checked-out, and in the taxi. It was not a good way to wake up. But that was just step one.

Driver: “(something in French)”
As I was still rubbing sleep out of my eyes and settling into my seat:
Olivia: “Nord. Merci.”
Driver: “(questioning, puzzled look and something in French)”
Olivia: (wishing I had taken just one semester of French) “Le train? Nord?” Then turning to Katie with a helpless look of a deer in headlights, “I thought we asked the front desk to tell him we need to go to Nord.”
Katie: Turning to the driver, “Le gare du Norde.”
Olivia: (‘Where the hell did she pull that from?’)
Driver: “(something in French)”
Olivia: “What exactly did you tell him?”
Katie: “The train station, Nord.”
Driver: “(one last time, still in French, still had no idea what he was saying)”
Katie: “Oui”

And off we went. Then, I glanced at the meter, which had been running since he arrived at three ‘till six.

METER: 14.60 euro

Grabbing my wallet I searched for the rest of my money. 8 euro and 20 cents. Looking up quickly, I saw the meter turn:

METER: 15.20 euro

All I could do was pray, ‘God, please let us have enough money between us.’ I knew that the fare from the station to the hotel had only been a little less than six Euro; we had hope. I would have walked if I had felt at all confident about wandering through Paris at dawn with 50 lbs of luggage. I turned to Katie, prodding her on the shoulder and the making the international sign for cash by rubbing my thumb against my other four fingers. She looked down at her purse, thought for a second, then turned back to me and quietly said, “About twelve.”

Some relief.

I looked back at the meter:
METER: 18.50 Euro

Then I prayed, ‘God, please let this be less than 20 euro. Please, please.’

By the time we pulled up to the station my fists were in tight bunches and all I wanted to do was get away as soon as I could. I had been staring at the meter the whole time, jaw clenched. It finally read:

METER: 20.70 Euro

When the cab finally stopped I handed Katie all my euro and looked impatiently from her to the driver, then at the door and back to her again.

Olivia: “How much?”

Katie glared at me holding out 20 euro and 20 cents. She made me to pull out her credit card but there were no signs my much beloved ‘We Accept Visa’ stickers. The driver was getting frustrated.

Olivia: “I feel like I am going to throw up.”

She handed the driver the lump sum of our Euros as I plunged into my backpack, routing out some Pounds Sterling. After a few more panicked communications I had convinced Katie to stay in the taxi and told a very pissed driver that I would be back in a second with his money. I came back with the exchange from a 10 pound note and shoved it in his hand, after which he even helped us with our bags. Then, thankfully in tact and with all my luggage, my cousin, and her luggage we scrambled into the station and away from the cab.

Now, after fighting down my guilt, embarrassment, and idiocy, all I could hope was that we found tickets and made the trip fast enough to Calais to board our ferry to Dover.

September 7, 2006

Epilogue

We’ve made it! Few! The train rides from Paris to Calais were, thankfully, unremarkable; although, we did hit a small snag in Calais. We had only 30 minutes before our ferry left from the time we arrived and neither of us had Euro for the bus fare to the terminal. (It was at this time that I realized I should have kept some of the Euro for ourselves instead of throwing in all at the cab driver in Paris. But can I really be blamed for my actions at 6 a.m.? Perhaps my ability for forethought is somewhat overwhelmed by my crazed paranoia in the wee hours of the morning.) After a twenty-five minute expedition through illustrious downtown Calais, we tracked down a money exchange and I watched begrudgingly as another 10 pounds slipped through my fingers. By the time we finally made it to the bus stop we had conceded to missing our ferry, but I was riding a caffeine high and would not concede defeat! (Ironically, once we actually looked at the bus information sheet, we discovered that pounds were a valid currency for Calais public transit. Next lesson learned.)

To make a potentially epic story shorter, thanks to a speedy bus driver and beautiful P&O Ferry representative, we made the next ferry to Dover with no extra charge. Having had some scrumptious vitals (for me a latte and baguette), we are relaxed, rested, and a little wiser for the trouble.

P.S. After I finished this entry I flipped through the earlier pages of my journal and discovered that the first half was filled with diary entries from my freshman year of high school. I learned a very important lesson doing this – never look at your diary from when you were fourteen. It will only make you feel vapid and completely idiotic. My distinct reaction was, “Oh God, this is horrible. Did I really write this? How the Hell did people stand me? Why didn’t anyone ever slap me, besides that one time – Erica had the right idea.” Those entries are better left alone or in an incinerator, where mine will rest for all eternity.

It's Happening In Dover

So I stole that line from a big billboard on Highway 101 through Soledad. Really, there is a huge billboard that says, "It's happening in Soledad." What's happening in Soledad?! Who's even ever heard of Soledad?! I hold that it doesn't even really exist. It's all just a ruse...like death.




Well, Dover, huh. Dover was cute and small, although Katie and I did happen to wander into the "ghetto" of Dover which was actually kind of shady. We walked the entire town (not just the circumference but I am confident that we actually covered every square mile) in about 2 hours. The castle is quite impressive, although we didn't actually make it up there. My advice to you is, if you are planning on stopping over in Dover...don't do it on a Sunday. There is absolutely nothing open. The whole town goes into hibernation and the only thing left open is a karaoke bar just off the main road. As it happens, we went to said bar and promptly left after Katie couldn't get enough booze in me to get on stage. I was, however, tempted to request some George Michael...just because he is that amazing.

The bed and breakfast we stayed in was excellent! Highly recommended. The husband and wife that run the house are really sweet and make a wicked good breakfast. All for a pretty reasonable price and not to far from the hopping downtown district. So, check out the East Lee Guest House. In all honesty, it was sort of nice to spend the night in Dover after our whirlwind tour of London and before our exhausting Paris excursion. It's cute, quaint, and right on the ocean.

And how could I forget! It appears that Shaggy left the Mystery Machine in the Southeastern coast of England. Those silly meddling kids!



Katie the Fearsome, pillaging the village of it's one food source. But what will the kids eat?! She's a monster!! The terror! (she has no soul)



Of course, the White Cliff's of Dover. -->

Update Notice!

Due to the several weeks that have passed since I left London, I have decided not to group everything that has happened in one entry. Instead, I will do one entry per place until I am caught up. That is all. Good day.

I have arrived!

Yesterday was probably the longest day in eternity. For Katie and I, August 31 started out at 7:15 am, which was a rather relaxed morning, and then at 12 noon we headed off to the airport for our 4:30 pm flight. After 10 hours of flying, we landed at London Heathrow at 10 am on September 1st with little to no sleep. But, of course, we couldn't afford to loose a day in London, so we treked on until 9 pm. We wandered about the city, had a traditional pub dinner, complete with a tasting of ales and then crashed into our bed as soon as possible. This made for a busy 31 hour day, to which I say "blagh."

Since I couldn't be bothered to haul out Gwenyth on the flight, I instead decided to keep a diary in a small journal that I can tote around. So, here's yesterday's entry:

August 31, 2006

Katie and I have just settled down on the plane. She, with the help of Prince Valium, is already drooling out of the side of her mouth. Every few moments she opens her blood shot eyes to give me a fearful glare. She’s terrified of flying, which is pretty much a result of Paul’s tactfully designed torture from our childhood.

When we were nine her parents made the mistake of leaving the two of us, and her two younger sisters, on a flight alone with him. At some point we hit a patch of turbulence and it was at this juncture that he had the opportunity to inform her of the more insidious dangers of flying. In the end all three were scarred with the image of the small commuter jet sailing toward the ground like a 200-ton brick, while shattered windows reduced passengers to wet noodles.

Now, Katie’s eyes have rolled back in her head and hopefully she sleeps in a peaceful Soma coma.

Earlier, while I was stowing my bags in their proper compartment, our in flight neighbor took his seat. As I bent down to take my seat he outstretched his hand with a big-eyed overzealous grin and I forced myself to choke down a giggle. We had been parked next to the embodiment of all Courtney’s warning tales for European travel, the young eager straight Italian male. I almost felt bad for him; he was trying so hard without any luck at all. Little did he know that we had been prepared for just such an occasion; nod, smile, and then pretend to be asleep.

We are near landing. Thank god. Neither of us have actually slept much, although I managed a few minutes here and there. Mostly, due to my tactic against the Italian stallion, but Katie made the unfortunate mistake of opening her eyes to catch his longing gaze. I am sure she could have used some back up, but I didn’t want to ruin blowing my cover and for extra protection I darned the oh-so-wonderful eye mask provided by the lovely people of British Airways. Over the course of the flight, Katie was treated to the tales of how he came to San Francisco from Naples, how he learned English, his hopes for a career in animation, and (this was the best part) a video clip of his renowned break-dancing skills. For the most part, he was harmless enough but Katie’s blood-shot eyes may lead her to a different conclusion.

Well, this is where I end. Adieu my fair friends. I will update with more stories as I find time. For now, muah!

T Minus One

One day left and I am all ready to go. I think my bags weigh about fifteen tons each. Luckily, I have Vin Diesel biseps so it shouldn't be a problem. Ugh...I am just so tired and all I want to do is curl up in a ball, suck my thumb, and go to my happy place (where Hugh Laurie feeds me grapes). But, I think it might be best to use this to my advantage, stay awake as long as possible until I long for the 2 square feet of coach space I have awaiting me tomorrow. If I start writing about a crazy stranger I met on the plane with my same briefcase, keep me away from all potentially explosive household items. Now, I must go and stare blankly into space for a few hours. God, I am exhausted.

Why Terrorism is No Good

Due to the fact that I am a lazy college student who is completely unaware of current events unrelated to the antics of pop culture crazys (ie. Mel Gibson and Tom Cruise), I had no idea that yet another terrorist attack had been discovered (and, thank God, stifled). But really, I am starting to get a complex about these things. As if it's not bad enough that people feel the need to take their vendettas out by destroying complete strangers and this applies to more than just terrorists ::cough cough:: global politics ::cough cough:: world wars ::cough cough:: genocide ::cough cough:: Yeah, so if that's not bad enough, but some of these recent events are seeming to follow me around...in a way that makes me feel really insecure about my karmic standing. First, a month after I spent a week in New York, the two towers fell and all hell broke loose. Then, a month after I visited London the subway was blown up. And now, a month before I am flying and moving to Britain, a group of people try to blow up a Britain to US flight. I am starting to feel like my traveling is really bad for the world and I should just hide in a cave. Plus, it is somewhat disconcerting to be traveling at this time...when I am from a nation and going to a nation that are not exactly globally admired. But, I don't think hiding in the cave would really be a good solution...though if anything else happens, I better learn to love spelunking.

Brain numbness..

I just finished making all necessary reservations for the trip (or atleast I hope I have). All day yesterday I spent staring at the computer, jotting down figures, and having a general panic attack over finding the perfect places to stay. Well, I finally did it. I just hope that we don't get there and discover that the building is really a front for a brothel/coke dealer. Though, it would be a good story, we would just have to add in details about Interpol, near death escapes, and a mo ped chase.

Actually, my worst concern is just that my stuff will get stolen and I will be living abroad for nine months with only one pair of underwear...geesh. Not to mention the amount of couch time I would need if I lost my new Mac...I haven't even seen it yet and it has already established an intricate intertwining with my soul. Which reminds me, I should really give it a name. I have been thinking of what would be suitable, but nothing has struck me yet. The possibilities are: Dexter (as in Dexter's Labratory) but I would call him Dex, Brock (as in Brock Sampson...Venture Bros) but I kind of feel he is too small for that name, Amadeus because it rocks (and it means "love of God), or Edward but really Ed, BUT if it is a girl...which is yet to be decided...I have other choices: Tinker as in the Belle and a bitchin' elf character, Lara (ya know...Lady Croft...oo that could be cool too), Grace O'Mally, or Beatrice. Any suggestions?? Favorites?? Please help...my little baby is nameles. I also thought of naming it Billy Zane for obvious reasons (Zane for short), but my desktop's name is Bill. See...this is harder than it looks.

I have made my decision

Okay, so I have officially coined this blog "My Superdupper Travel Diary" and my second, "My Blog of Randomness." I have officially divided my personality...yay schizophrenia! Maybe we'll have a poll on which half is a better person. hmm...the possibilities. Well, the choice is yours. Much love, from both of me.

<-- P.S. Isn't traveling fun!

News Flash...

<- Crazy man...we must stop him!

So, it appears that I accidently created two accounts on Blogger and didn't even realise it...hence having thought one blog disappeared when it was only that I was logging into the wrong account...oops. So, what to do? Well, I much prefer the template of the second blog, but I did a lot more adjusting on this blog. I guess I can just ask myself which URL I prefer...hmm. Or I could keep both of them and use them for different reasons. Very complicated. I think that I will think it over and suprise you with the conclusion. (Plus I have four papers to write, so I really shouldn't be messing around on the internet...right?).

Okay...maybe not

So, ya know how about five minutes ago in my last post I said I lost everything on Tripod...that wasn't really true. But I hated that site anyway, so I am just going to publish them here and pretend like nothing happend. And there's nothing you can do to stop me!!! Bwa-ha-ha! (I need friends).

Monday, 24 July 2006

Utterly Horrified

Mood: surprised

Now Playing: Man on the Moon -REM

Okay, so I was just web surfing for a few minutes before I decided what to do with my day. Just the normal stuff...checking my mail (hoping to hear from the guy I just bought I computer from on E-Bay), reading Wil Wheaton's blog, glancing at zachbraff.com eager to have him announce the 24 hour film contest, etc...then, after running out of the normal stops I decided to do a quick google search. Never, never again will I be so quick to look up images of an unknown disease before checking out the definition. I am still shaking. You see, I was innocently wondering what an ulcer looked like, since I came down with one last week. It had been described to me as a "scratch in the stomach lining." But no one told me that it could also be defined as "a gapping hole the size of my fist in bloated gray flesh that looks like it has been melted away and infected for several weeks with gangreen and will automatically cause any viewer to grab the nearest trash can." Wow...I am severly traumatized. My friends and family better be glad that they are not here with me, or else I would be forced to impart this horror on them as well so I didn't feel like google was conspiring against me.

Posted by oliviaeverett at 12:17 PM PDT


Friday, 21 July 2006

Christmas in July

Mood: a-ok

Now Playing: Silver Bells

Don't know what's come over me...but I was in the holiday mood. I gathered together all the Christmas tunes I could find...I couldn't resist. Ooo...that adorable Olivia Olson just came on. I still hold that Love Actually is one of the best films of the decade. My boss at New Regency would gag anytime someone even mentioned the title, but I think he just doesn't have a soul. I mean come on...it has love, loss, hanky moments, funny ha-has, and those ever-so-cachy Christmas tunes. What's not to love?! I have to stop...this is getting me all wriled up. Peace.

Posted by oliviaeverett at 8:22 PM PDT


Sunday, 2 April 2006

Dreaming of Things to Yet Come

Mood: happy

Now Playing: Ya Ya Ya's...on Chris's Computadora

First ever blog entry...woo hoo. :) So, I think that I am pretty ridiculous. I have 5 months until I leave for Edinburgh, but I am too excited to control myself. I just wanted to set this up in order to distract myself from the stuff I really have to do. Well, reality is calling. Ciao ciao.

Posted by oliviaeverett at 10:09 PM PST

Summing things up...

Well, over at my tripod homepage (oliviaeverett.tripod.com) I had created a blog for you fellas while I am in the UK, but lo-and-behold it all was quaintly erased when I went to post something yesterday. I was actually really bummed because I had put up a few posts and they were a sort of random that just can't be replaced. BUT...I did find this lovely posting which summed up my feelings...how fortuitous. So I hope EW doesn't mind me ripping it off - "i feel like I could have written it, the fact that i didn't was a technicality."

July 27, 2006

Where's the love for 'Project Runway''s Michael?

So you know I'm not one to question the taste level of Project Runway's magnetic minx, Nina Garcia, but I had two huge issues with the judging panel last night. First, as EW's Mark Harris pointed out in his brilliant TV Watch, how come Bradley's ''droopy bronze lunchbag of a blouse with built-in room for an osteoporosis hump in the back'' didn't land him at or near the bottom of the fabric heap? And secondly, how come there's been no love -- heck, barely even a full minute of airtime this season -- for consistently innovative Michael? I thought his dog-show dress was saucy, especially the cross-paneled bust that reminded me a little bit of braided bread. And his coffee filter concoction from episode 1 was a far richer blend (sorry) than Keith's basic blue sheet dress, no? Oh Nina, Nina, Nina, what gives? I am not doing this with you, todaaaaaay.

Michael Slezak | 07.27.06, 06:53 PM
http://popwatch.ew.com/popwatch/2006/07/wheres_the_love.html