This is why I'm fat.
Homeless chic in Bristol
Bristol
Standard
(Not New) York.
Cheers, Kelsi :)
Wednesday 14 April 2010
Stolen Goods
Also, a few pictures that I robbed off of Kelsi (RIP camera), just for kicks:
This is why I'm fat.
Homeless chic in Bristol
Bristol
Standard
(Not New) York.
Cheers, Kelsi :)
This is why I'm fat.
Homeless chic in Bristol
Bristol
Standard
(Not New) York.
Cheers, Kelsi :)
Easter, Springtime & York
It's been a while, again. Since I last wrote, lectures have ended, most of my coursework is done, and I've been outside without tights on (once), which clearly means that summer is coming.
Life at uni is a bit odd when there is no uni, but it's still so good to be in England and everything has been kind of a haze since the end of March. If you know anything about me, you know that I like it that way. How could I possibly complain about an existence that consists of waking late, grocery shopping, consuming too much coffee, having drinks and wasting hours on end with lovely people? I won't.
Easter also happened, but not Easter as we know it at home--English people have a giant vacation from school and at least appear to make a pretty big deal out of the whole thing. Since I don't like Easter (I hate springtime rains and pale, ugly colors and church makes me angry), I was obviously thrilled to spend it having a late dinner at Nando's and drinking half a bottle of Sainsbury's basics vodka out of a super-sized Burger King cup. There was, of course, good company and lots of sunshine; there was also a spur-of-the-moment Michael Jackson dance, something that resembled a double date, and abundant happiness. I think I even watched There Will Be Blood, but I can't be bothered to remember. All in all, the best and most ridiculous least favorite holiday I've ever had. Props, London.
After Easter, the following: I contracted the plague, got lost in East Dulwich, found out I'm living alone next year, watched more Peep Show than I care to admit, and realized (yet again) just how much I don't ever want to leave here. On the topic of leaving, Kelsi, Khogan and I went to York for a bit last weekend/the beginning of this week to visit Ted. Aside from being whitewashed and a potentially boring place to spend more than a few years, York was lovely lovely lovely and nothing but laughs. We walked on a wall, ate shit food, froze to death by sitting outside at just about every pub we could find, were surrounded by daffodils, smoked in the garden and watched silly British children's telly. Joe even came out to play with us on Sunday. So much fun.
Finally, northern girls love tanning salons and crap makeup enough to seriously consider auditioning for the inevitable next cast of the Jersey Shore. English people call a sun room a 'conservatory'. Apparently I talk in my sleep (about horses?). When you're driving on the highway here, the road signs just say 'the NORTH' and point you in a straight line. It's so easy, even a non-driving mess like myself could probably manage to get to Leeds.
XXX
Life at uni is a bit odd when there is no uni, but it's still so good to be in England and everything has been kind of a haze since the end of March. If you know anything about me, you know that I like it that way. How could I possibly complain about an existence that consists of waking late, grocery shopping, consuming too much coffee, having drinks and wasting hours on end with lovely people? I won't.
Easter also happened, but not Easter as we know it at home--English people have a giant vacation from school and at least appear to make a pretty big deal out of the whole thing. Since I don't like Easter (I hate springtime rains and pale, ugly colors and church makes me angry), I was obviously thrilled to spend it having a late dinner at Nando's and drinking half a bottle of Sainsbury's basics vodka out of a super-sized Burger King cup. There was, of course, good company and lots of sunshine; there was also a spur-of-the-moment Michael Jackson dance, something that resembled a double date, and abundant happiness. I think I even watched There Will Be Blood, but I can't be bothered to remember. All in all, the best and most ridiculous least favorite holiday I've ever had. Props, London.
After Easter, the following: I contracted the plague, got lost in East Dulwich, found out I'm living alone next year, watched more Peep Show than I care to admit, and realized (yet again) just how much I don't ever want to leave here. On the topic of leaving, Kelsi, Khogan and I went to York for a bit last weekend/the beginning of this week to visit Ted. Aside from being whitewashed and a potentially boring place to spend more than a few years, York was lovely lovely lovely and nothing but laughs. We walked on a wall, ate shit food, froze to death by sitting outside at just about every pub we could find, were surrounded by daffodils, smoked in the garden and watched silly British children's telly. Joe even came out to play with us on Sunday. So much fun.
Finally, northern girls love tanning salons and crap makeup enough to seriously consider auditioning for the inevitable next cast of the Jersey Shore. English people call a sun room a 'conservatory'. Apparently I talk in my sleep (about horses?). When you're driving on the highway here, the road signs just say 'the NORTH' and point you in a straight line. It's so easy, even a non-driving mess like myself could probably manage to get to Leeds.
XXX
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