Post Party

As I told you before Internet, I went to a wedding last week in America. The bride, Cathy, is a girl I've known for about six years. We met at Rowan University. Well to be more specific, we met at Rowan University Anime Club. Below is our official logo as created and voted in 2005 (I think). We even had shirts made. No, I didn't bring it to England.

Yes, it is the mascot for a club where a bunch of nerdy 18-22 year olds watched Japanese cartoons one night every week. I'll admit it. I was a nerd. Ah hell, I AM a nerd; I freaken blog! Any whoser, Cathy was in the club with me, and one day I announce that I was a fan of Sailor Moon: an anime that was so girly and cheesy that the Rowan Anime Club refused to show it, and please understand that most Japanese cartoons are cheesy by definition. Three other girls in the club agreed with me that Sailor Moon, a show about the heroic adventures of a very dumb and spastic 14 year old girl who talks to cats and has a 25 year old boy friend, is only the best show ever. We had out own private party in my apartment, and Cathy was one of those girls. A year later and a half, she moved in with me. (Yes, I brought Sailor Moon with me to England).

Cathy lived with me until I moved in with my girlfriend a few years ago. Cathy is also the only friend of mine that really connects with Dani, my girlfriend, because they are both huge nerds! Below is a picture of Cahty and her now husband Tom; they almost look normal, but I assure you Internet, they are not. This awesome couple LARP: Live Action Role Play. Yes, they act out a game similar to Dungeons and Dragons in the middle of the woods dressed up as fairies and warriors with other super nerds.

For their wedding, they put aside most of their nerdiness for the sake of elegance. Cathy was stunningly beautiful, Tom was handsome, there was great food an drinks, the decorations were tasteful and appropriate, and it was just a classic wedding; however, they did add some originality to the day that signified their nerdy union.

How the wedding was nerdy:

Tom had a dance off with his mom for the mother son dance

The "Gummy Bear" song played

The best man was a lady, and her gift was a sword (the other groomsmen got daggers)

Their first dance was a fake out to this song

The after party was at..... Medieval Times!!

MY NEW HELMET!

I do not know if you have realized this from previous posts, but my team color is purple. Granted my last school colors were brown and yellow, but it was chill. The colors were retro and easy to wear once you got used to them. Purple, however, is just straight up ridiculous, yet is it my color now. I have to get used to it, and it was difficult at first because my helmet was yellow. Yes, my helmet did not in any way shape or form match my team. I felt like a jerk with no connection to the team.

In short- I am now super happy to announce that I got a purple helmet. It makes me acutally dig this out of control color.

=

Fresher Welcome Drinks

When I was in college, my junior year, my team got in big trouble. We were caught hazing the freshmen. It was tradition at my school, but it was honestly not a big deal. We drank, which was optional, we played games, and we bonded. The freshmen had to do a scavenger hunt, drink 7-11 slurpies faster than the other teammates, wear shirts with dirty words on 'em, and other silly events. There were no punishments, and there was a little embarrassment; however, it was really fun. I did it when I was a freshmen, and it was one of my favorite memories of college. The problem with my junior year was that one of my teammates posted the pictures online with the name of our school, team, and the words "Freshmen Initiation" under it. We were caught by the university and had to do the following: 25 hours of community service, each sit one of our first three games ofour next season, forfeit fall ball, stay in Glassboro during spring break (it snowed the whole damn time), and formally apologize to the school. It was lame.

What happened here last Wednesday was in no way related to my pervious paragraph. My team had a "Fresher Welcome Drinks" party. Freshers are freshmen. I, and the other Americans, are not freshmen. I am actually about 7 years older than a fresher, but since it is our first year here, we had to be ... welcomed. We played many games similar to the ones I played in college, but even the upper classmen partook. The only difference between the two groups was that the newbees had to wear frog costumes, and the returning players were princesses.

All in all it was a great night. After our party, we went to the clubs. I had a rather lot to drink, but I was in no way wasted. I did stay out til 4am, and then did not get to sleep til almost 6. Not going to lie internet, I was hung over for two days. I am not 19 anymore. It was fun to bust out my awesome dance moves in green makeup on my face and froggy eyes made out of tennis balls on my head.

Pictured above are my two American roommates/teammates. They are teaching the Brits how to play flip cup in their froggy costumes.

GAME DAY 2-0

The most recent game was against our 'rivals' Newcastle. We have already had friendlies with them twice, and we know them well. The final score was 22 to 2. I am actually ashamed of the second goal. I was so bored that I forgot how to make a save, but I had two more awesome saves before the end of the game. Again my team was sloppy, but we prevailed. Next Wednesday we play in Scotland.... I think. Wish us luck!

Teaching Fix

I was a teacher for three years. I loved it. Yes, it was the most stressful thing I have ever done with my life, but it was also the most rewarding thing I have ever done in my life. I wanted to be a teacher since I was 16. My friends in high school would ask me for help in English class, and they were impressed with my knowledge of the semi-colon. Once I got in front of the classroom, well I wasn't a natural or in any form very good, but I loved it. I eventually did become a pretty decent teacher. I got some of the more rough and tumble kids, but they were awesome. These were kids who actually had something to learn even though most of them did not want to. I felt like these kids that did not give a crap about education, were far more reachable than the average student. Yes, I heard every curse word imaginable, and yes, sometimes they were aimed at me. Yes, I had druggies and fluzzies, and yes, I had good kids who tried really hard. It was just delightful to go off topic, talk about something that is directly from their lives, and then try to connect it to the literature in a way that they could relate. It actually worked sometimes. Imagine a kid who would stay up until 2am every night smoking pot and playing video games in his friend's basement because he knows that he is going to be a mechanic, and school teaches (in his mind) no skills relatable to that field, looking forward to reading Macbeth or Beowulf. That seriously happened sometimes. I had a class clap at the end of a story from The Canterbury Tales because they liked it so much, and it wasn't the slow sarcastic 'thank god this crap is over' clap I usually get.

I miss it, but I do get my teaching fix from time to time here at Durham University. At practice, because I am here on a lacrosse scholarship, we have three teams, and sometimes I get to help out with the other teams. Even on my own team, which is like the equivalent of varsity, I tend to get a little coachey. I will lead a drill or help someone with an individual issue, and it is just like I am teaching again. I was explaining a drill one time for team two, and one of the girls made a comment along the lines of, "She is totally a teacher." I couldn't help but smile even though she may have been poking fun of me.

Also my classmates are not native English speakers, so sometimes they get lost when the professor makes a joke or goes really fast. They turn to me for help. Well I am sure the fact that I am one of three native English speakers and have the friendliest face (that's right Robin, I am more approachable than you) is probably why they choose me for help. I don't mind at all. I actually feel really bad for them because I sometimes get lost in the lectures with 25 years of English language experience. Today the prof was talking about the difference between the sounds in the phrases "catch it" and "cat shit". Agatha, who was sitting next to me, pulled out her little electronic English to Chinese dictionary and could not figure out what made most of the class giggle. I then drew her a picture that looked something like this. I am sure drawing a kitten taking a dump is not really the high light of most people's day, but it was for mine!

Even though I was laid off, I do not have a doubt that some form of teaching should be my career. I am glad 16 year old me was right. She was awesome. You go 2001 Kat... you go girl.

MOLE DAY

Today is Mole Day. What is Mole Day? Well I was in Honors Chemistry in high school, so I know all about it. (Actually I barley passed with a D-). It has something to do with a unit of some sort of measurement or something. The equation is presented below.

The unit is called a mole. That is why this creepy little mammal is holding the sign. Why do I mention this in my blog about my international travels? Well, I have two very nerdy friends who are getting married, and since they are suck dorks, the wedding is today on Mole Day. I am a bride's maid, and had to fly home to get here. That is right internet; I had to fly from England to America for a weekend!

I am currently getting pretty, riding in a limo, standing in church with flowers in my hand, eating a vegetarian meal near a fancy center piece, getting very drunk, dancing, or passing out. It all depends on what time of day you read this post.

My Artwork

For some reason, unbeknownst to those who know me, I tend to draw often while listening to someone lecture. The drawings are..... Well I was told at a young age that I had "poorly developed fine motor skills". I later found out that meant my handwriting was for shit, and it would never get better. It's true. When I was a teacher, the school got a smart board, and all the teachers who wanted it had to write an essay about why they deserved it. I wrote, "My handwriting". Yes, I got the smart board, so then the children were no longer subjected to my illegible words.

I am back in school now, and I draw my little heart out. I try my very hardest, and the result is sad. I thought it would be a great idea to share the pictures with you! Enjoy.

Below: My linguistics professor was talking about the difference between human and bee communication. How could I not draw it?
Below: I used to play football.
Below: The only good grade I got in 7th grade art class was for the tree project.
Below: I had THIS SONG stuck in my head.
Below: Coco- the girl from class who smiles more often than an anime character.
Below: It just is.

Shakespeare's Pub

Wednesday night is a big time party night here at Durham Uni. As I previously stated, Wednesday is gameday for all sports, so all the athletes go out and pound beers. Well girls don't drink beer here; they drink cider, and that crap tastes like bad champagne. Any whoser, one Wednesday we went to this little hole in the wall bar called The Shakespeare Pub.

Why would we go to a crappy bar with no food, very little space, and only 3 beers on tap? Well, earlier that week a random guy, named Joe, on the street invited us. Apparently he saw our lacrosse sticks, and lacrosse players used to frequent the pub. I am still not sure if Joe works at the Shakespeare or if he just drinks there way too often.

Joe told us that we should come for "Open Mic Night". I was with Nicole, and she happens to play the guitar and sing really well. We decided to partake in "Open Mic Night". Why do I keep quoting? Well there was no mic. There was no stage. There was just... a pub.

It was awesome! We, lacrosse men and women as well as women football, drank and sang along to Nicole's fantastic talents. The best part though was when Joe came in and joined her on the accordion. He also had a harmonica. Even better was when he pulled out some spoons from his fanny pack that held spoons and only spoons.
Joe rocked the spoons pretty hard. He even taught my roommate Whit how to rock 'em as hard as he, and she did! The weirdest part of the night was when we all paid our tab and left to go to a real club, and Joe followed us out. Joe went to the Love Shack, a dance club that usually houses 18-21 year olds. He followed us around, and everyone thought Robin was his hooker! Seriously she got questions. I just hope he paid her well.

GAME DAY 1-0

Our very first official lacrosse game over here in England was against Loughborough University. We rocked 'em. Actually it was a really close game with a lot of aggression and sloppy passes on both sides. In the first min they scored two goals. It was a mess. Eventually we cleaned up our act a bit and started playing well. I had some good saves and let in some goals that I shouldn't have. It was a good day.

A Friendly Match

Here in England you say:

'match' not 'game',

'friendly' not 'scrimmage',

'pitch' not 'field',

'rubber crumb' not 'turf'',

and for all of my laxers you say 'red' not 'crash'.

We had a friendly against Newcastle (the closest city near us). We already played them in a tournament, and we will be playing them twice in the regular season. We might even see them in the post season. I suppose you COULD say Newcastle is Durham's rival, but you wouldn't.

Allow me to describe the match. First we show up about an hour before the start time. This is classic, if not a little late, for American matches. I supposed, at first, England might be a tad different. We got ready in the locker room. (I puked my guts up because I get bus sick easily, and I have been fighting off a vicious cold. yuummm.) We walked on to the pitch. (I suppose I more swaggered than walked.) We did a warm up lap, stretches, shuttles, 2v3, 7v7, and a pep talk. Newcastle, the home team, was still no where to be seen 15 min before the match.

They show up eventually, 8 min before the start time. Their coach informed my coach that he would like to do a 7v7 for a while first because his girls are not 'game ready'. He also tells her that they do not have a goal keeper. I, of course, was ease dropping, and I was pissed. I was sick, grumpy, and missing a class for this friendly, and they weren't even treating it like a real game! I grew grumpier.

We played a nice like seven vs seven, which was actually good practice. Our defense held strong. Then we switch to offense, but I stayed in goal because they had no goalie to call their own. I was fine with this because I am used to my own players shooting on me at practice. What I was not cool with was the Newcastle coach, an American dude, yelling at my players for 'starting before the whistle'. His team totally did that too. Also, it was a joke to even be doing any of that so clam down A-hole.

Okay, okay, I am overreacting, but wait until you hear about the actual match, Internet. The coach decided to be his team's goalie. Alright that made me feel better for being there because a one goalie game in lacrosse is just lame; however, this guy was such a pompous ass that I'd rather play on Newcastle's team then witness his dumassery. He yelled at his girls like he saw a spider in his underwear and thought yelling would save him from it. He took back goals from my team for made up rules. He cheated by playing men's rules. (He raked the ball.) He was also a ball hog. Now keep in mind that he was a goalie. In lacrosse, goalies rarely move more than 15 yards; this dude could have taken a shot on me. Ass.

Good news is we won. We won by a whole lot. I had one save and no goals against. Normally I would be super proud and pompous about a shut out (or clean sheet as the Brits put it), but they were just that bad. I got to chat up one of the opposing offenders. She told me about some fun clubs in her town that I should hit up sometime. Her name was Lydia. We are now best friends.

I apologize for the rant. If I were a reader of this blog, I would say in the comment section, "Yeah, but why you mad though?" because there is no reason to ever be this pissed off in a blog. Blog should be used for good. I promise to keep the fun coming. Maybe. Sort of. Sometimes. I hope.

My New Rain Boots

I live in the northern part of England. THe best way to describe the weather here is 'dismal'. My first three days here were cheery. It was sunny and nice. It was a lie. After those three moments of jolly good weather, we got rain. You know why the landscape is so nice here? It is because it is well irrigated- by all of the rain!

One day, I walked to the shopping center to buy some toilet bowl cleaner, and my shoes ended up soaking wet because of all the rain. My feet were cold and gross. I didn't even feel like buying cleaning supplies until I saw a sign for an awesome rain boot deal. They were cute and cheap, but alas, one would need to buy two to get the awesome deal.

I sadly walk to the cheap cleaning supply store when I saw... my roommate! She was out and about by herself, and her feet were gross too! The two of use got the two pair of boots for 30 pound deal. Pictured below are our boots as well as the boots of our other roommate.
By the time we walked out of the shopping center, the rain had stopped. The lack of rain did not stop us from wearing out new boots home. We showed them off gladly and even wore then around the house for a while. Then we put them neatly in a row, and they have been there ever since.

No seriously internet, we never wore the boots again. This had to be two weeks ago, and it has not rained once during those days. Sure it rains at night just to keep the sky cloudy and the day grey, but there is no longer a need to wear rain boots when we go out.

My Classmates: Part 3

Some of my Chinese classmates do not have English names. Good for them. It is really hard for native English speakers to get a handle on their names because, as we learned in our linguistic class, some languages do not contain the same sound patterns as others.

Here is the very first conversation I had with a Chinese classmate on the first day of class. Enjoy.

"Hello, it is nice to meet you. What are your names."

"Hi, I am Katherine, What's yours?"

"Hello Kass-in. I am Shszzz." Okay I understand the Chinese pronunciation of my name is always 'Kass-in', but 'Shs-zzz'? She was greeted with several confused American and English faces. "SSSS," pause and seperate hand gesture, "zzzzzzzz". We all smile politely as if we understand this name that lacks vowels.

"My name is Jon," smarmy 50 something English guy responds.

"Oh like an American toilet," Shs-zzz proves herself hilarious.

"And I am Robin," my American friend smiles broadly and waits for a follow up question, and it was a dozy of a question.

"Ro bin?" Shs-zzz slowly and very unsure of herself repeats the name just given to her as if it were an American playing a dirty joke on the foreign kid; however, outside of the speed, the name was far more correctly pronounced than mine.

"Yup."

"Roo? Binn?"

"Yeah, just like Robin Hood"

"Roo bine?"

"Like the bird."

"Rah bahn?"

"As in Batman and..."

*silence*

"R-O-B-I-N"

"Oh!" Shs-zzz suddenly has her moment of clarity. She then says Robin's name to state that she clearly gets in now, "Ro-bin!" Her pronunciation did not change from her original attempt in the slightest.

Then we had many confusing moments with almost all of the Chinese students who learned Robin's name. I don't know what they thought we were saying, but I am pretty sure it is a curse word in Mandarin. If it is, please tell me, and then teach it to me.

My Classmates: Part 2

Yesterday I informed you all about my major that is TESOL (teaching English to speakers of other languages). My classmates, as I told you yesterday, are mostly Chinese. I am learning all about their culture. Did you know that they randomly choose an English name? It's true. Their English name has nothing to do with their real name or culture. They just think it sounds cool.

Here are the English names of my classmates:

Crystal

Agatha

Betty

Wendy

Vivian

and my personal fav Iris

Is it me, or do these Chinese girls sound like a bunch of old Jewish women?

My Classmates: Part 1

My major is learning how to teach English to non-native English speakers. With this degree I can do almost anything. I can go to America and teach in high schools or adult classes to immigrants. I can do the same in England, Australia, Canada, etc. I can also travel to almost any non-English speaking country and teach school children, business men, college intellectuals, aspiring world travelers, etc. I have no idea what I want to do yet, but I have options if I pass.

My classmates consist of about 30 students that are about my age or a little younger. Well there is one 50 something year old, and he is annoying; there is always one. The weird thing about my class is that out of 30 of us, about 4 of us are native English speakers. Since I am such a good student, I took meticulous notes.

American: 2

British: 2

German: 2

Indian: 1

Taiwan: 3

Oman: 1

Chinese: the rest

We are deconstructing the English language and analyzing the linguistics with people who are still learning the language. Their English is actually pretty good, but it tends to get confusing. One really bizarre part is when we talked about what letters make what sounds. There was no agree-ance in anyway shape or form. The professor said "dai as in day". We said "deh as in day". The Chinese said "What the hell is going on?"

Above is one of the many Chinese grad students (I do not know her specifically) who was picked up by an American mens' lacrosse player (who reminds me of Party Boy with out the irony) in the middle of a rave. The rave was at the student center. This place is weird.

TA

Sometimes English people say "TA". I figured this colloquialism just is. I thought it was cute, but my friend Robin was immediately obsessed when our professor said it to us in passing as he handed out some papers. I told Robin that it is just something they say instead of "thanks". I thought it was like "cheers"; they say "cheers" for any reason: hello, thank you, I agree, let's drink, etc. It is similar to the Jewish "Shalom", which means "hello", "peace", "goodbye", etc.

Robin was not satisfied with this logic. She would not focus on the lecture because her mind was racing with possible meanings of this "TA". I was uninterested in her search for answers, but since I brought my laptop to class and could get a wireless signal, I had to look up possible answers. This is the site we explored while our professor wrote a copious amount of notes. KNOWLEDGE!!!

TA is actually an acronym for Thanks Awfully. I assume that is short for "Thanks an awful lot." Robin and I both felt relief and satisfaction with this new found knowledge. Needless to say, it is my automatic response to any kind gesture. ta!

Books Are Sexy

OH EM GEE you guys. I forgot to mention my favorite description of The Really British Professor. The description is my whole reason for blogging about him. Okay think about Rupert Giles. You don't know who Giles is? Well he is the librarian and watcher on on of my fav all time shows Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He is the patriarchal figure that the protagonist tends to lean on, and he looks like this.The problem with comparing my professor to Giles is that Giles tends to be a bad ass from time to time. Look below to see his awesomeness.

Admit it. You swooned a little. I know you did. Who wouldn't swoon over a man who can pull of a cardigan? So think about Rupert Giles, and get rid of all sexiness and badassness. Instead insert the awkwardness of one Mr. Bean.

Mr. Bean is a British character who gets into all sort of trouble. Even when he is at the beach, he is very unsexy.

Combine Giles and Mr. Bean, and you get The Really British Professor.

Jon

So unlike Rowan University, where I attended undergrad and played four years of varsity lacrosse, Durham has a strength coach and a conditioning coach. I like this because it allows the lacrosse coach to focus on lacrosse, and you feel as though your workout is meticulously planned by someone who is aware of how a work out should be arranged. It's not that my coaches didn't know how, but they did have a whole lot of planning to do; sometimes running was just- well running. Our conditioning coach makes the runs game realistic, and each session is built of the last.

This post though is about the strength coach, Jon. Jon is a tiny man, but no, that is not right. He is huge, but he is at the same time very small. Jon is short; he is as short as I. Jon is also one giant muscle. It is very obvious that he played rugby and that he was good. He is our lifting coach two times a week. Lifting- psh- I can sit on a machine and repeatedly pick up heavy objects at my leisure. Lifting with Jon is not lifting as you know it.

Do you know what a circuit is? Almost any athlete knows of it. You do one min straight of an activity (push ups, sit ups, jump rope, wall sits, etc.), and you do each station about three times. Jon makes us do circuits and only circuits, which sucks, but he also makes us do crazy ass stations. He makes us swing a sledge hammer, lift beer kegs over our heads, throw duffle bags full of sand, flit a giant tractor tire, and run shuttles while holding 30lb weights. Below is said tire.

I swear internet that Jon is secretly trying to train us for the Strongest Man in the World Competition. I will not be surprised when he leads us to a truck with a harness and tells us to move it using only our bodies.

Below are two activities that we, the women's lacrosse team, had to partake in during strength training. Note: my examples ARE from the Strongest Man in the World Competition.

WE HAVE INTERNET

Today is the day that we are allegedly getting internet. My roommates and I are so excited to be hooked up to the information super highway that we are having a We Have Internet Party. The modem is due in the mail anytime today from 7am to 6pm. When it arrives, we will hook it up, and then we will watch YouTube videos. We also plan on drinking beer. The Brits will have hard cider.

We have a list of things we would like to do once internet is available in our little home. The list is on a yellow post-it, and it is mostly comedy videos. We have so much to do today once internet is available.

Above is RAAAAAAAANDY, and it is what I plan on watching once I have internet.

My roommates want to watch the Double Rainbow.

P.s. I wrote this a week ago, and I am not so sure internet will be here. Fingers crossed everybody!

English not American

There are many small differences between English culture and American. I find myself getting lost some days in all the mess that is culture shock; however, the two places are really similar. It would almost be easier to visit some completely different country that had no American logos, no greasy foods, no cars, or no similarities at all. If I wondered into a Martian country, I would expect to be greeted by innumerable differences, but here I am constantly shocked by the tiny differences in my every day experiences. I can't even really articulate it. I suppose my roommate put it best when she said, "This country is unintentionally sneakily different", and it lulls you into a false sense of sameness when suddenly they are cursing at you in practice, drinking the night before a game, driving on the left side of the road, or judging you for drinking a beer instead of a cider. It's not bad; it's just hard to remember that it is not home.

The Really British Professor

So as I was saying the other day, I attended a meeting led by a Really British Professor. My football friend happened to draw this man. Note that he is lanky, pale, bumbling, apologetic, and all and all nerdy. Also pay attention to the students all awkwardly sitting on the floor because there was far too few seats for all MA students.We also tried to sneak in a picture of him, but it was hard because she stupidly left the flash on at first; everyone was looking for the two idiots who were trying to take a pic during a lecture. She also accidentally lost control of an apple core that she was working on so that it flew across the table and broke into several pieces. Needless to say, we were already seen as weird and rude.

We also were lectured by this guy. Can you guess what department he is in.

Did you guess? He is an IT guy. Here is a drawing depicted by my apple throwing friend.

My daily Walk

okay, I have complained to a lot of you about my dialy walk. Turns out it is only 1.5 miles. here is what is looks like for thoes of you who really do care,

Queen of Maiden Castle

The Durham sport complex is known as Maiden Castle. I have no idea why.

Because I play a sport, I know many people who also play sports. I know the whole women's lacrosse team because I am on it, and I know the men's team because most are American and wanted to meet the other Americans. I know the whole women's basketball team because my roomate plays for them, and I know most of the men basketball players because my roomate is friends with them. I know most of the women's football team because one of my teammates sometimes plays for them. I know a couple of women vollyballers because they live with some basketball girls. All in all, I know a lot of people that frequent Maiden Castle.

When I walk past any pitch (field), through the gym, in the locker rooms, into the weightroom, or near the coaches' offices, I see many people I know. I am constantly saying, "Hey." What I am telling you all is that I am really popular and pretty much th Queen of Maiden Castle.

PGT- WTF?

Today was the day that I was to figure out some stuff about my actual classes. I am here to get an MA in TESOL after all. I have had no idea is teaching English as a second language would be a language, education, or humanity major, nor did anyone I spoke to. An American on the football team (I’ll say it again soccer) is studying TESOL as well, so we are lost together. Right back to today, we had a meeting at 9am in a hall in a building that houses goring language students, translation studies, anthropology, and English. We figured, hell it must be the right place if the email we go said so.

We sit down in the moderately sized lecture hall, and we get out our notebooks so we appear to be intelligent ready to learn students. Then in walks in a large group of Asian students. We thought it was weird that so many students were not native English speakers, and we thought it was even weirder that there were so many people in our major. We hear one girl nervously say ,”I hope I am in the right place for French language studies.” Another girl replies, “Well I am studying German, so you should be alright.” We make to gather our things and get the hell out of there when simultaneously four people sit in our row blocking us in and we see two or our friends, and American laxer and Spanish baskeballer. One is majoring in multicultural studies and the other is translational studies. We sit back down and wonder, “Maybe if everyone is a little different, that means we are in the right place.”

In walks a professor and the best was to describe this man is Really British. Really British Professor turns on a power point, and it says PGT. My friend and I start to panicky whisper to each other, “Is that acronym for us? Are we in the right place?” While we hopelessly ask each other, a girl in the front of the room asks the professor the same thing. He responds, “You should be alright” and leaves again. Unfortunately we did not hear what major she was in because we were too busy talking.

We then swallow some pride and ask a girl next to us. She seemed to think the same thing that we were all similar subjects until she heard we wanted to TEACH English as a second language. Then she had a “oh boy” look on her face. “Shit,” I say to my football friend, “what is we were supposed to be with education. They went yesterday.” We tried to plan an escape route for when the Really English Professor made an announcement that we were in the very wrong place; however, we had equipment for practice and could not easily pack it up and run without being assholes. Also the entire room was filled to the brim with students. The seats were filled, and everyone else was sitting on the floor; there was no floor space left.

The professor walks in again and begins talking. He does not define PGT, so my football friend and I give up. We figure that we’d just be trapped in the wrong meeting. Turns out, after a good solid 5 min of listening to the Really British Professor, we were in the RIGHT room. It was a meeting for all students getting MAs. Whew. We were so giddy from the relief that we drew pictures the whole time. Post to come featuring the pics.

Remember My Football Friend?

I have been talking about one friend a lot because well.... she is super awesome. She is obviously the coolest person I've met. She also is the best player on the football team. My roommates tell me to calm down about how fabulous my new friend is, but she started a blog; now I get to share her awesomeness with the world. My connection with Robin, yes she has a name and it is Robin, is that we are both Americans playing a sport at Durham University, and we both studying MA TESOL.

Check out her blog.

Search for Internet

My posts have been more infrequent than usual because of the intense lack of internet in my house. I truly have an internet addiction, and I have been dealing with the shakes for two weeks. The best way to find an internet fix is at a café. Durham is a cute little city with a lot of options, so I can get my fix easy enough; however, it is not free. I have to buy a cup of coffee each time I want internet, and if I want to avoid awkward moments of being stared at by the local girls who work in the shops, I must continually buy coffee while I use the internet for more than a half hour.

As you probably have guessed, my internet addiction has lead to a coffee addiction. What a cruel cruel world. Although, Lorelai Gilmore has a coffee adiction, and she is one of my favorite female characters of all time. (pictured above)

FOOTBALL

When I say football, I mean soccer.

Swap Day

The last day of preseason was Friday. My coach thought it would be fun to change things up. The first rule was to have all the Americans speak with English accents and the Brits with American.

(Just to be clear my internet fan-base, I am well aware that accent is the incorrect terminology. No English speaking person can have an accent in the English Language. An accent is when you bring aspects of your native language into a whole new one. The difference between American and British is a dialect. No one but me seems to care about this difference, so we will continue to call is an accent. Keep in mine dear readers, that every time the word "accent" is incorrectly used, I cringe.)

Well it was hilarious. The Brits had pretty good American accents (cringe), but they sounded like they were in great pain with each word. They informed the Americans that we tend to create an accent (cringe) that does not exist. It is not American, but it is not English. Some Americans could not even get the fake accent (cringe) down. They ended up sounding like drunken pirates. "I fell on me arse!" The coach just sounded special.

One British girl thought the pinnacle American was Regina George from the best movie ever Mean Girls. We Americans laughed at this idea, and then as she put on a perfect American accent (cringe) and had ideal colloquialisms, we realized that Regina George is America.

Go and watch this movie. Study the awfulness of the high school girls, and realize that is the most accurate representation of your culture. "On Wednesdays we wear pink."

Bin Raiding

Every go dumpster diving? It is not a proud activity to partake in. In college I furnished my apartment with couches and tables found abandoned next to dumpsters. I'm not proud, but it was cheap living. Now that I attend Uni (that simply means I'm in college in England), I have regressed to the cheap life once again. Some British football (soccer) girls invited me and my roommates out for bin raiding.

They said we were to go to the Tesco bins on a Sunday night because that was when they throw away "all the good rubbish". We were to seriously go in the trash and pick out food. We Americans dressed in all black and brought empty backpacks (rucksacks) to fill with goodies. We were highly embarrassed, but we figured that it would be a fun experience if nothing els. The Brits meet us in the market square, and they were dressed for a night of hitting on boys. They laughed at out ninja attire, but since it was raining and we were about to pick through trash, we had the last laugh.

Yes, it was raining. It always freaken rains in England, but the Brits seem to always be surprised by the weather. So ten pm on a Sunday, we sneak into a private ally that looks like a good

spot to kill a hooker, and we stumble down some sketchy steps that led to the Tesco reject food. SCORE! We find bread, pasta, baking soda, and frozen pizza. We thought that we hit the jack pot.

Here is a picture of our success.

After much giggling, we literally run up the stairs and though the rapey ally in the rain dropping boxes of butter along the way because we had more food than space in our bags. We take the food to our house and we divid up the goodies. Believe it or not internet, the food was gross. By gross I mean really expired and covered in hairy mold. We opened every single frozen pizza in search for one good pie, but as you can see they were nasty.

If it weren't for the laughs, the night was pretty much a waste, but we put on a kettle of tea and taught the Brits how to play catch phrase.