Tabitha @ MindSay

So, it's all good now. I got the internet problem fixed yesterday but I had to wait the day it takes to connect and so, after watching Neighbors (an Australian soap opera that is horrible and yet, so addictive) with my flat's 'Neighbors Society' (which really just means that half the flat congregates in Aaron's room at half five everyday to watch the show. And I forgot what I was saying...oh, the internet! So, yes, I came back from Neighbors to find my internet working! After a few 'Hallelujahs!' and checking Myspace, I came on to blog. This won't be a real blog, though, I'm just going to copy and paste what I wrote my first week here.

WARNING: It will be long, because it's two days of crazyness. Only read on further if you're actually interested in my life...haha.

OCT. 3

England is insane... and I LOVE it. My Ma and her friend Jane (who came with and is our designated driver - though none of us is familiar with driving in the U.K. or on the left side of the road) don't seem to understand any of the road signs, which I don't understand because they're blunt. Other then the roundabouts, which I actually like, and the road signs, which seem to make sense only to me, the only thing that throws me off about driving in Britain is the whole driving on the left side of the road and the steering wheel being on the right side of the car. We actually had a discussion about this at the rental dealership, and none of us can figure out how, in a world ruled by right-handed people, there are countries with steerings wheels on the right side of the car so that everybody has to use their left hand to shift.

Good news is, I know Colchester very well after only 72 hours here (well, technically it's less than that but I'm not technical person anyway). I know where the superstores are, where the movie theater is, where Curves is, where the best shopping is, where my bank is, and, most importantly, where every single pub is. Haha, that's not a hard one actually because there's a pub every other store and at least 6 on campus alone. Also, in town, when excluding  the shopping areas where almost all the stores are clothing-type shops and restaurants, the streets look like this: [pub][grocer][pub][asian food][pub][fish'n'chips][pub][grocer][pub][indian food][pub]

Oh! That reminds me - I experienced irony today in a pub. On campus they gave us these special bracelets that indicate we're students or whatever and those bracelets get you discounts, including in the pubs of course. Well, one of the discounts that caught my Ma's and Jane's eye was a two for one special for Mud Vodka's (or Muddy Vodka's or something like that), so, and here's the irony, I had to buy them the alcohol. I actually laughed out loud at that one. On a similar note, my Ma kept trying to buy me pints. I know most teenagers would love to have this problem but, honestly, I don't want to get drunk right away. Besides, at least one of us has to remain sober so we know where the hell we are and where we're going. That and I have too much to do right now to go and get drunk. And I'm sick from all the roundabouts, which aside from being helpful, turns your stomach into liquid... it's like being on one of those kiddy rides that go in circles at the same speed for what seems like an hour so that your stomach almost permanately moves in next to your pancreas and on top of your right kidney (a place a stomach does not belong).

I'm actually writing this in my dorm room right now. It's very nice - a corner space - and is about as big as my room in Miami, except, it's a single. They're all singles and it's fabulous. OH! And there are boys on the floor too (if you go to a school that's completely co-ed in everything, then this won't make any sense)!!! HOT English boys and one Irishman whom I'm totally in love with. I'm so glad I got my hair done before I came. And I'm glad that English girls are more... urgh, how to say this without sounding mean... well, it can't be done. English girls seem a lot more plain than American girls. Though there are some gorgeous Keira Knightly types, most are just so... normal-looking and plain and it really makes me feel better, especially after living in Miami where most girls look like Beyonce, Jennifer Lopez or Lindsay Lohan or in DeKalb where, like, half the girls in my high school were models (this is no joke either). I get to feel pretty here and I love it. And in Miami, the boys are on one floor and the girls are on another and we have some strict rules... and some of the RAs are total Nazis when it comes to keeping the rules. Though I know a few who managed to get around it by memorizing our RA's schedule... though I'm far too lazy to do that. So, whatever. It's better here!

I love everything here, really. The language (I love how articulate everybody is), the way they do things, just... everything. I don't ever want to leave. I especially love Essex - it's fabulous! If you're thinking about universities in England, seriously consider Uni.Essex cause it rocks. Now, the only thing I have to figure out is the kitchen situation... hm, I'll do that later. Right now I'm heading out to meet more people. Adios!

END

Right, that was super-long so I think I'll wait to post the rest till tomorrow.

 
 

I'm angry. At first I thought, you know, maybe, just maybe, my computer problems were because I have an American computer but then, duh, Toshiba is Japanese and it should work everywhere, right? Every other American on campus isn't having a problem connecting to the internet using their own laptops. So I went to the computer service people who're supposed to help me but instead they give me a sheet of paper with a list of things to check and then bring it back if I still can't get the internet to work. I look at the paper - it lists everything that I've already done and checked. I tell the computer people this. They tell me to 'try again' and 'you should be able to fix it yourself' ...yeah, not when it's a problem with their service. And the thing is, if I was the only person with this problem, then, yeah, I'd think I was stupid but I'm not. They've gotten at least 4 other people from my flat with the same problem and they don't see the connection there...? STUPID. I hate them all.

But I love everybody else here :)

By the way, I'm going back to London this weekend but not to have fun...I have business. Ah, well. I'll save the fun for another trip. Or at least, I'll try to make it to Madame Tussaud's. We'll see.

So I went to my stylist today, Lori, and per-usual she did a fantastic job! I'm glad I followed her when she left the place she used to work with because I don't think anyone else could make me happy. Before I show the before and after pictures, I want to tell you all about how it goes down.

How You Know Your Stylist Kicks Ass

1. They make sure they're doing what you want to be done. They ask you specifically about color and cut and show you pictures of cuts and samples of color to make sure you know what the possibilities are.

2. They make you comfortable (whether it be with magazines, drinks, or chit-chat).

3. They're familiar with current pop-culture so that when you say something like "I like Mandy Moore's new cut", they know what you're talking about.

So Lori listened to everything I said, made suggestions in terms of face-shape and skin tone, supplied me with a Coke and a InTouch magazine and foiled me up as she asked what classes I'm going to be taking in England.

A little boy (like 10 or something) was in the seat next to me getting his hair highlighted and, not that I knew it at the time, was eagerly listening to every word we said. When the time came to go under the dryers with our caps on, we sat next to each other and discussed Hilary Duff and Lindsay Lohan. It was strange, because, I mean, he's a ten year old little boy. But he was nice. And he told me my cut and color looked good on me. Needless to say he was quite the little charmer. I'm pretty sure he had every female in the salon ready to do anything he asked.

Anyway, to the good stuff. MY MAKEOVER! I went from blonde, shoulder-length, curly hair to.... short, semi-straight and brunette (with a hint of red)!!

What do you all think?? Is it London or what? SWEET.

So I've been teased for writing about what to pack. But you know what? It's an important issue! I mean, you can't just pack anything - you have to take into consideration local weather, customs, terrain... and seeing as my clothing reflects Miami and the American midwest (Chicago area too, where one can experience seven days of distinctly different weather in one week - we're God's weather testing center), I need to go shopping.

That is the argument I gave my parents at least. And no... they're not paying for my shopping spree. I've been working all summer saving up (because I plan on having at least one day devoted entirely to shopping while I'm in London because, believe or not, I am a female) so I may by the right kind of clothing. My Da is taking me out today for shoes, which he insists on purchasing for me. We've decided a good pair of walking shoes (I have sneakers but... well, they're more for fashion than walking/running. Except for my Nikes which, technically are running shoes but, then, I'm not going to be jogging all over England). And I'd like some boots. Not rain boots or snow boots or those ugly khaki colored hiking boots but some nice black boots that I could wear on a crappy day or on a night out on the town.

Then later I'm going to Woodfield in Schaumburg to spend the rest of my hard-earned cash on, preferrably, an iPod (or some other digital music player to keep me sane on the plane ride with my Ma), some sweaters/long-sleeve shirts and some more jeans. My Da wants me to look into thermal wear. I'm not so sure. :\

I am sure, however, that what one chooses to pack is very important.