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Published: October 26th 2008
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Regent's Park Lake
The lawn chairs cost 2lbs to sit on. Just to finish up last weekend’s adventures, I went to Regent’s Park on Saturday afternoon. The park has an outer ring called the Outer Circle, which has Regent’s Park Lake, The London Zoo and London Regent’s College. The Inner Circle is Queen Mary's Gardens, which is by far my favorite part of the park. Even though it is October, there were still blooming roses. The garden is made up of hundreds of “blocks” of roses in a circular shape. Each block has different roses and its own name. Some of my favorite names were Lovely Lady, Smile Always and of course Her Majesty. Also in the Inner Circle was this miniature lake with small bridges that led to a tiny island that had walking paths and mini waterfalls all around. It was incredible.
I went to Notting Hill and Portobello Market on Sunday morning. I had the best crepe there ~ bananas and crème. It pretty much made my day. The market has lots of antiques and handmade jewelry, clothes, bags, art…it’s a great place to people watch which is exactly what I did.
This past week went by pretty fast. I went to my first show on Thursday
night. I saw “Phantom of the Opera” with a couple friends. Ugh. I think even if I knew a bit of the story or history before seeing the play, I still wouldn’t have enjoyed it. I was told to bring Kleenex because it was a great love story but instead it’s the most twisted, disturbing, confusing and ugliest love story ever. My friend Rachael and I just sat there with these “what in the world is going on” faces for the full 2 hours. Obviously people appreciate and love the play but I didn’t care for it at all. My dad put it perfectly, “The music practically makes fun of itself.” And I’ve had the stupid tune stuck in my head for the past 4 days. “Doo dooooo, da da da da da daaaaaa…boom boom boom booooooom.” I don’t know what Andrew Lloyd Webber was thinking.
I went to the National Gallery with a friend on Friday afternoon. When you walk around for 3 hours reading descriptions and admiring hundreds of painting, your brain starts to hurt. But I did see works by da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Rembrandt and Monet. My favorite was Van Gogh’s Sunflowers.
Enough about
me, let me tell you all about my floormates. I would say that I get along with everyone but there was a bit of drama last Friday. We had a “kitchen party” which is exactly that. Everyone sits around in the kitchen and parties. This was the first one I have actually been in town for and I was looking forward to “bonding” with everyone. Things didn’t turn out so great. First people started smoking inside, which obviously isn’t permitted. Then the music got louder and people were drinking way beyond their limits and then security showed up. The first thing I thought was, “Oh my God, we’re underage and we’re drinking in the dorm!” So I’m freaking out until I remember that 18 is the legal drinking age. Everyone was told that if they want to smoke, they need to go outside and so on.
When security came up a second time, I knew it was not going to be good. A different guard came in and said he could tell people have been smoking. A friend of a girl on my floor looked him dead in the eye and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.
No one has been smoking.” The room is full of smoke, there are buds all over the table and my mouth just dropped. I looked at this girl and couldn’t believe how someone could even say that. She was so rude and I was so embarrassed that I apologized to the guard (not knowing how else to handle the situation) and then I called it a night. The next morning, I woke up to a kitchen that looked and smelt like a frat house. The floor was sticky with spilled beer, cigarette buds were every where, beer cans were all over the room, someone had managed to throw up in the sink and the room just reeked. So obviously, I was not in a good mood all day and I will not be attending a kitchen party again!
That was an awful first impression of my floormates, but I think most of the damage was done by their friends. But here’s a little bit about everyone one my floor. There are 6 girls and 6 guys. On the girls’ side, Katherine, Stephanie, Vicky and Fran are all English. You all know about my German neighbor Hanna. If Katherine was
American, she would be the ultimate stereotypical sorority girl. Tall, blond, skinny, loud and loves boys and partying. Stephanie, Vicky and Fran are all “normal” with the exception that Steph is fluent in French and Fran speaks perfect Chinese. Vicky and I probably have the most in common. Especially because Steph and Fran cook these gourmet meals together and Vicky and I sit in the corner eating grilled cheese or as the English say it, “cheese on toast.” Last night, Steph made roasted peppers with some couscous stuffing. I’ve started calling her Rachel Ray. However, I did cook chicken for the first time on Friday which I consider a major success.
The boys are a little more diverse. Andrew is American, but goes to school at McGill in Montreal. Being the only Americans on the floor, we get along really well. Rafa was born in Argentina but grew up in Portugal. He’s tan and toned and has that great accent so he’s the hottie on the floor, but he knows it. He walked into the kitchen this morning in his boxers, drank directly from his jug of milk and walked out. A month ago I would have considered that
to be a great start of the day, but now he really needs to get over himself. The funniest thing about him though, is that he carries his iPod and speakers everywhere. He listens to it while he’s cooking, eating and even brings it with him in the shower and to the bathroom.
I’ve already mentioned Panos, the guy on my floor who’s Greek. He’s definitely the most mature out of the guys. But he’s also 25. He didn’t like his university in Greece, so he dropped out. In Greece, every man is required to spend time in the army so he did that, and then came here to City. Harvey is the only British boy on the floor, except he wants to be American. He picks up on things that Andrew and I say, so now he uses words like mula, brewski, “that blows” and my favorite, “dude.” The other two guys on the floor are Chinese and even though we have, they don’t make the effort to talk to us, so I actually don’t know their names or really anything about them except that whenever they cook, it’s like Hibachi time in the kitchen. They slice and
dice like it’s nobody’s business.
Now I wonder what everyone on the floor writes about me in their blogs…
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