Embracing British Culture: Not So Cosmopolitan

Soooo! I realize I am horrible at keeping up with this, blog but for the 2 people that are following my blog, I promise to update consistently from now on.

My last blog was the first part tho embracing British culture. This, as the title suggests, is the second part, which is not so cosmopolitan.


For those of you who know me, know that -- once upon a time at least -- I am a health nut and obsessed with working out, especially running. Coming from Huntington Beach, I tend to roller-blade to/on the beach, usually virtually naked -- a tank-top and shorts. In my naive state of mind I figured I would bring my track jackets, a long sleeve workout shirt and a pair of sweats for my outdoor working out sessions.

At first the weather was a bit intimidating and I refused to go work out until I became acclimated to the weather here. It took me three weeks for me to get "comfortable" to the weather. Or, at least to come to the understanding that I should not expect to feel ANY sun warmth even if the sun was out teasing me. Once I saw progress, I thought I was "embracing British culture" and becoming comfortable with my new environment. Seeing the locals running in short shorts and a thin track jacket, helped me garner enough courage to go for a run in the cold. :) Seemingly, it couldn't be that much of a challenge.

Well, WRONG. Anyway, an hour and TONS of rain later, I got home freezing my @$$ off shivering, wet and feeling sick. I had the flu. The next day, I missed the most important day off class because I didn't have the energy or the strength to get off my bed. I slept 19-hours non-stop and somewhat recovered from my flu. I took a lot of pills of course, drank lots of fluids and kept myself bundled up.

The next day, I had to gather energy and strength from wherever because we were taking a trip to Bath and to Stone Henge and I sure as hell wasn't going to miss out on that trip!

Here are some of the pictures of the trip!

Thanks to the girls who kept taking pictures for me since my camera is not working!

This is the City of BATH, a World Heritage Site, known for it's Roman Bath Houses. The city was first established as a spa resort by the Romans in AD 43. Bath had a historical aura that was felt at every corner that you stood. The city has a unique and beautiful architectural design much different and much more elegant than in London. For some strange reason, Jane Austen never liked the city during her five year stay. We ran out of time and weren't able to visit the Jane Austen Centre.

In the midst of exploring the beautiful city, it began hailing. I got excited at first thinking it was snow, but it would be weeks before I saw my first glimpse of snow!

Embracing British Culture: The Cosmopolitan Version

Ok, I am horrible with this blog. It's been 10 days since I have posted anything, I am sorry. In my defense, I've been refraining from posting because no one really wants to read a blog that describes amazing things I am doing in London without pictures, right? Thank you for understanding.

The reason why I have no pictures of my adventures in London is because my camera charger decided it didn't want to recharge. :( So I will have to go purchase a camera or a battery charger soon so that I can have a recollection of pictures as proof that I was actually here. I don't want to get to 90 years of age and not remember where I was when I was 20.

Anyway, I will give you a small recap of the national treasures that I have visited so far in London. I've been to the After visiting the Tower of London, The girls and I went to visit Westminster. We took the tube there, of course, which is right next to none other than BIG BEN, which is connected to the British Parliament! Before we got out of the tube station I could already see it and so I started yelling with excitement. Now, I know that this is very American/touristy of me to do, but I couldn't help myself. Normally I try not to stand out so much, but again, I couldn't help myself. As soon as we stepped outside of the tube, I could see London Eye (which if you are ignorant like and don't know what it is, it's the Ferris Wheel that you see in the movies).

After taking pictures in front of the Big Guy and in front of the London Eye, we headed over to the most beautiful church I have ever set foot in! And. being raised Catholic, I have seen many beautiful churches in my days. There is so much history and so many important historical figures that have set foot in that church, that I couldn't help but to close my eye briefly and imagine myself walking alongside the queens and kings and everyone else that was there centuries ago. It's such an overwhelming feeling that I cannot describe. No words can do this magnificent place justice, so I am going to move on.

My next stop was The National Gallery. The National Gallery houses a rich collection of over thousands of paintings dating from the mid-13th century to the late 19th centuries (I believe). I think they may have some exhibits from the early 20th century but I am not certain and I am too lazy to check at this time. Sorry. Anyway, I won't go into detail about the paintings I liked because I can write a novel and this post is already turning into one. I will say that I loved just about every painting that I saw there. One that resonates in my mind, however, is a painting of a bunch of paintings that were at the Gallery. They were on display in some room and I remember looking closely at the painting and recognizing some of them. Again, it was just an incredible feeling to see that someone had "taken" a picture of all those paintings centuries ago, and now I was cruising through the galleries. I will say that I am excited to return to the National Gallery, especially since it's free admission.

Up next, a recap of my night paintin' the town red. AKA, clubbing/bar/pub nights! Woot Woot and some pictures for you.

London Should Have An Instruction Guide!

First and foremost, I apologize for not updating my blog in the past few days. I've been busy exploring the city, sleeping at random times and overall trying to get a accustomed to this new time zone.

Where to start... I met my roommates at LAX on Saturday Jan. 16th and we had a classy dinner at Burger King for about $10 USD. They're great girls and we got along great from the start, I think. I was very happy to see familiar faces though (Britney, Claire, Nimisha and Candice).

After the hellish 10-hour plane ride in which I tried every possible position to sleeping in a plane possible, I failed miserably and ended up getting about an hour worth of sleep on that plane.

Even as I stepped foot on British soil, I still was oblivious to the fact that I was in London. It wasn't until today that it finally hit me.

We arrived to our "flat." I would compare my flat more to a condo. It's three floors, two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Being the only male, I get my own room with two "closets" -- the most pathetic excuse for a closet in my opinion and I think this comment will reach consensus among the other girls -- and my own bathroom. I feel bad that aside from my roommates, the other six girls have to share the same amount of space in the flat next door.

After exploring our flats and cheering and screaming in excitement we tried to unpack but without hangers it was virtually impossible. So, our rooms remain a mess. We all went out to dinner, provided by ACCENT, and we went over some logistics for the next week.

The next day we all went to get some nifty pay-as-you-go cell phones for 5 POUNDS! Soon after, we went to Argo, which I would compare to a crappy-cheap imitation of Target were you make all of your purchases through a "catalogue" and you don't get to see what your stuff looks like until you receive it a few minutes after you order it. This was our first culture shock of our trip. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that we were hungry and jet-lagging, but we got frustrated fairly quickly at Argo and opted not to purchase a lot of things that we wanted. After walking around the hustling city with our purchases, we took the first bus-ride in the city to our flats. Britney, Alex and myself used our "Oyster cards" (bus passes) and sat down on the bus hoping we had hopped on the correct bus. Well, we did, and we definitely got that "look" from the locals riding the bus. That wasn't the worst part. We didn't know how to get off the "bloody" bus! So we asked the bus driver nicely (by nicely I mean someone yelled out, "excuse me, we need to get out!" And then everyone started laughing and told us we needed to push a button. The buttons were the size of my thumb and even after they pointed them out, I couldn't really see them!

London should seriously consider an "Instruction Guide to London for Dummies."

That evening, the nine of us ventured of to Islington, about 15 minutes north from our vicinity. We bumped into seemingly the ONLY restaurant open at 9 p.m.! We were all starving and getting a little moody, but the yummy food made us feel better so we decided we wanted to find a pub. Nothing was opened anymore and it was no later than 11 p.m.! After 20 minutes of hunting for an open pub, we decided it was time to just take the bus back home. We waited at the bus stop and noticed a "panda" and male who was half-cross-dressed as Kate Moss and Pete Doherty. They stumbled our way and asked for a hug and promptly rolled around on the floor. I don't know what type of shock this is but I am almost certain it's not a culture shock! Haha.

This morning we all decided we wanted to go visit London Tower, and I of course had some unfinished business with the Royal Palace because they have one of my tiaras and are claiming it belonged to one of the Queen Elizabeths, but we all know it's mine!

Well, we took the London Tube to London Tower and that was an adventure:

We took some pictures by the "egg" on our way to the entrance:

And then met with our tour guide:

It was such a beautiful place and such beautiful scenery! This is the first time since my arrival that I finally feel I am in London. Maybe the instruction guide for London is.... spontaneity. I'll try and be spontaneous tonight when we all go paintin' the town!

T-Minus 6/5 Days

Phew! It’s almost midnight and it’s been a hectic day! I have 6/5 days until I leave and I have yet to pack!

My day started off with a decision to take a two-hour train from Orange County to San Diego to show my best friend Tabitha my support as she competed for the Miss San Diego title. I wish she had won because she was the prettiest one there, but it didn’t work that way. The good thing is I am going to spend time with her and I am heading back on Tuesday.

So what does this have to do with anything? Well, I could have just gone to San Diego to see Tabitha at her pageant and headed straight home, but I guess I chose to prolong my trip for two days because I am procrastinating this whole packing ordeal.

I am nervous and excited about this trip. This will be the first time ever I will be away from my family for an extended period of time. While I live on-campus, USC is only 30 minutes away from my parents’ home in Orange County and I know that if I ever want to see them because I got homesick, I can. This gives me an added sense of comfort and self-assurance and that is probably why I rarely get homesick.

Don’t get me wrong – I’ve been waiting for this trip since I was accepted into USC. However, trying to consolidate five months into one suitcase made me truly reflect on what I need for this trip: warm clothes, warm clothes and more warm clothes. Not my cute shoes, or my cute shirt or the cute jeans I love to wear. Just warm clothes. More than anything, though, what I need is that sense of self-assurance and self-comfort that I will be fine if I get homesick. I couldn’t pack that if I could take 50 suitcases…

London Bridge Might Seriously Fall Down

For two-an-a-half years, I planned my entire academic life around a semester abroad in London – spring ’10. It was 2 a.m. on September 25, 2009 as I sat staring at my MAC. The London Journalism Study Abroad Program application was due that day at 4 p.m. I had a luncheon with my professor Mike at 12 p.m. – he happened to be whom I requested a letter of recommendation from – so I had just about enough time to get back to campus, take my passport photos, pick up my transcripts and turn in my application. The only thing I needed to do was…begin my personal statement. Being a journalist it should be assumed that this should have been the easiest portion of the application, correct? No!

I began feeling insecure, and it started making me sad because I have always been obstinate. I set myself goals and I don’t stop until my goals are achieved. I realized that I had told everyone that I wanted to go to London and it was a given that I would go because they all knew how much I wanted this. But, in the back of my head, I realized that in spite of how much I wanted this experience and how integral it would to my growth as a person and as a journalist, I couldn’t handle rejection. I don’t know what it is like to fail. I mean, sure, I’ve gotten a few “B’s” and even a “C” since arriving at USC, but I don’t know what is like to want something so badly, work hard to try and get it and then all of sudden you don’t achieve your goals. That is not a reality that I have embraced. Everything I work hard for, I get. So, applying for this position at City University meant that I could be rejected for the first time.

I settled for giving up. That just made me livid because I have never surrendered to adversity. (Mind you there wasn’t much adversity here, just some emotional and mental breakdown). Anyway, I realized my first year in college that I almost made the most imbecilic decision of my life in choosing to go to Cal State Long Beach over USC, claiming that I couldn’t abandon my family. In talking with “Mommy” and “Daddy,” about that erroneous part of my life, I realized that I would have ALWAYS wondered – and probably hated myself – what if I had gone to USC. What if I would have thought things through and made a right decision rather than throw it away over something meaningless and pathetic? I didn’t want to go through this feeling so I decided to start writing.

A few weeks later, I got accepted to the program! Now, my predicaments lie elsewhere…

With only a few days to spare, I have to start packing. We were asked to pack ONE check-in bag. Ok. Let’s back up a little bit. Does anyone in their right mind see something wrong with this picture? Anyone who knows me knows that I carry ONE check-in bag for a WEEKEND trip! How am I supposed to consolidate five months into one check-in?! Do you all see my dillema?

I’m not being a princess this time. When I go away to USC, just 30 minutes away from my parents’ home in Orange County, I take about 10 boxes, three suitcases, and most of my clothes, is just transported in hangers. Again, I ask you all:

How am I supposed to consolidate all of that into ONE suit case?!

I’m not trying to be facetious, but London Bridge might seriously fall down… Keep up with my blog if you want to see what happens next!