Random thoughts and factoids

So here's some randomness for you all:

In the USA, when someone wants to acquire a living space without purchasing the living space, we "rent" it. Thus you see signs on houses and apartments saying "for rent." In the UK, you don't rent something, you "let" it. Thus there are signs everywhere that say "to let," and it makes me so happy every time I see them! (Cause it looks like "toilet"... just wanted to make that clear).

Crossing the street can be an adventure here. As you know by now, people drive on the left side of the road here. Even though I know that, I still can't process from which direction a car is going to come. In London, they solve this problem by putting " <--- Look left" or "Look right --->" on the asphalt so that I don't have to die from a simple case of misdirection. (I know, you're thinking, "Just look both ways, dumbass.")

CDs and DVDs are way cheaper here than in the USA. While stateside we still charge $15-20 which is just ridiculous, here you can get CDs and DVDs for £2-5!!! I know, crazy, right? Maybe that's why no one in the US actually buys CDs anymore whilst people here still do. (To put things into perspective, though, the cheapest option is illegal downloading which costs, well, nothing).

The BBC (British Broadcasting Company), which has several television and radio stations, has zero advertisements. The downside: they do this by making people pay licensing fees that make up for money that would otherwise come from advertisers. The other downside: they talk WAY too much on BBC radio which makes me yell, "PLAY SOME F'N MUSIC!"

Coffee is so expensive here because it's not that popular. Go to any cafe and it will probably cost £2-3 for a coffee (which translates to $4-5). No, thank you, I'm not that tired.

Electric kettles are very popular here. They make using stove kettles seem like using dial-up connection. They boil several liters of water in literally about a minute or two, unlike stove kettles which must take at least 5-7 minutes. I know it doesn't seem like a huge difference, but when you want some tea NOW before you have to rush out the door or you're cooking and you want that water to boil a bit faster, those few minutes make all the difference in the world.

When I wrote about the cricket match between England and Australia, I didn't realize it was just a "test match" which was part of a best of five series. So last weekend was the final test match. England and Australia had both won one match apiece and then had a draw the other two. In the final match, England won back the Ashes and George's dad was the most excited I've seen him since being here.

Sticking to the topic of cricket, there's a few things about the game that are strange. One, it's possible to draw if time runs out. This means that if one team were destroying the other team, it might be to their advantage to "declare," meaning they would end the inning before they had actually gotten out. Otherwise, it's possible that time could run out before the losing team gets done batting. Even if they were 1,000 runs behind, the game would still end in a draw because theoretically, the losing team could have come back to win if given enough time. Also, there are no rain delays or postponements. So, same scenario, if one team is winning big time but then it rains for three days straight (which really isn't that unlikely in England), then the game is called a draw. One final weird note... George told me that last year Australia beat England in all five test matches of the Ashes. Why on earth would they even play the last two matches if Australia won the first three? Even if England had won both matches, Australia would have still been the victors. Strange...

"Cheers" here means "thank you," not "let's have a drink." But it sounds funny when I say it with my American accent.

Speaking French or knowing things about France or French culture makes you cool here. Sucks for me...

If I hear Black Eyed Peas "I Gotta Feeling" one more time, I will have to find Will.I.Am and personally slap him. Which sucks cause I love the BEP, but I swear it's all I heard in America this summer and now it's all I hear here. Enough already!

I clearly have nothing interesting to say anymore, so go play in the sunshine while it's still there.

Banksy

Saturday morning George and I woke up at 7AM. I know what you're thinking - why the hell would we deliberately wake up so early on a Saturday morning? The reason - a museum featuring a graffiti artist, Banksy. Banksy is a graffiti artist from Bristol that leaves his trace all over the UK, and to a lesser extent, the entire world. No one knows who Banksy is - could be a man or a woman, could be several people. What we do know is that you go to bed one night and you wake up with an image of two life size police officers making out or a fake window with someone falling out of it or a rat on a throne proclaiming, "Long live the king!" He's become quite a cult sensation here in the UK, so much that many people who get their building tagged by Bansky are actually quite excited about the whole thing. These same people would surely try to clean anyone else's graffiti on their wall, but not Banksy. (Of course, much of his work has been erased, but usually not before someone at least photographs it).

Due to Banksy's popularity, the Bristol Museum has given Banksy her/his own exhibit and even let her/him randomly place pieces of his work throughout the entire museum's collection no doubt to promote the museum's collection to people who otherwise would never dream of going to the museum. According to George's parents, there's never been anything at the museum that has caused massive lines or even small lines (or queues as they call them here), but the same can not be said of Banksy. George and I got to the queue at 8:15AM. We were already behind hundreds of people despite the fact that the museum didn't even open until 10AM. No joke, within one minute of George and I being there, there were 15 more people behind us. I'm not sure I've even seen such a line in New York City, not even for free Shakespeare in the Park tickets. It was a bit chilly, but luckily the weather was pretty decent. (A few days later, I passed by the queue and saw hundreds of people waiting in the rain. Sadness, but determination!). Since the museum didn't open for a while, the line wasn't moving, so we sat down like most people and cozied up on the sidewalk. George stepped out of the line for a minute to get a newspaper to read while we were waiting. I read about Scottish compassion (aka desire for oil), the economy recovering, and lots of useless info like, "Studies show women are more attracted to men who look like them." Oh, the news. Then George and I knocked out a good crossword, and still the museum hadn't opened. I left the line to get some coffee and contemplated how it must feel to be the people at the back of the line.

We didn't actually get into the museum until 12:15, a good four hour wait. I don't think I've ever waited in a line so long for anything in my life, not even at Six Flags (although I'm sure it's pretty close). Luckily the wait didn't feel like four hours. I guess cause I had my favorite person to share it with! (You may all vomit now). Once we got in the museum, I noticed a sign that read, "The museum does not support or condone any form of illegal activity, regardless of its artistic merit." Hmmm, you don't support illegal activity, but your featuring a graffiti artist and her/his work, promoting the hell out of it, and even letting her/him alter your non-exhibition collection? We'll just accept that subtle wink that's no doubt hidden somewhere in that disclaimer.

George and I walked into the main exhibition gallery with nothing but Banksy. Without going on and on, I'll just point out some of my favorite things. First, Banksy clearly has a political agenda concerning how our society views animals. There were cages all over the room each meant to make us examine our perception of the animal world. In the first, there were animatronic hot dogs that moved just like animals, doing things like drinking out of a water hole, bathing, and even humping. Another cage had what appeared to be a leopard lounging on a tree branch, swinging its tail to and fro, but it turned out to be a leopard-skin coat. Another cage had a fish bowls with fish sticks swimming around inside. Another had a rabbit looking at itself in the mirror and putting on lipstick and blush and filing its nails. Clever stuff. It's a bit disturbing to look at, but I think it's wonderful that Banksy's giving people a little dose of reality. Next we moved on to the statues. Banksy presented very classical forms, what one would imagine from Ancient Greece or Rome, but then s/he would alter them to reflect what we idealize today. Some statues were carrying shopping bags and wearing fancy sunglasses. Another was drinking out of a paper cup and was surrounded by fast food waste all around them. Another statue had dynamite strapped to his body. Hot.

We then moved on to the Banksy's picture room which was filled with many delights. The first thing that caught my eye was a picture of a tiger skin rug with Tony the Tiger's goofy-ass smiling face put onto it. Then I saw a grandma sweater on which Banksy had written "Thug for Life." Oh, the power of words. I really liked this picture of two small sad African children working in the mud wearing shirts that said, "I hate Mondays." That was right next to a picture of a little African child pulling two fat white people in a carriage. The fat white people were laughing with their camera phone pointed at the two of them to capture this moment on their journey. Another picture I particularly liked was one of a graffiti artist/disgruntled worker who was spray painting on a wall, "Workers of the world unite!" whilst a janitor stood next to him with a peeved look on his face that he would have to clean it up. Right next to that was a picture of a beautiful landscape with a towering mountain in the background. Next to the mountain was an asterik which read at the bottom, "Available for a limited time only." Classic. There were others that were noteworthy as well, but I just don't feel like writing about every little thing I saw. If you want to see some of his work, just search for "Banksy" in google images. You may not find the things in the museum since the museum probably doesn't want people to see his work on display that could be at the museum. But you'll get the idea!

I'm goin' downtown, baby...

That's right, I finally did some exploring downtown. Granted it wasn't my first time ever going downtown. I went Saturday night when George and I went to The Lanes, but we followed a very straight path to the club. I also went on Monday so George and I could register our civil partnership. But yesterday was my first time actually wandering downtown. It's not that far, really. Only about an hour walk, although I took much longer because, as is the norm when I'm exploring, I didn't walk straight to town. Straight lines are just boring. So I will write to you of yesterday's adventure which actually started with an amazing meal...

BREAKFAST! I walked to the village around 11AM and stopped by a cafe to get some food. Though the cafe boasted quite an impressive menu, I knew right away that I had to fill myself with unnecessarily heavy breakfast food (though it became necessary considering all the walking I did afterward). I have always been a huge fan of breakfast, but I think I didn't know what breakfast really was until yesterday. Eggs sunny-side up, baked beans, grilled mushrooms and tomatoes, fried potatoes, and the yummiest toast this side of the English Channel. Did I leave in somewhat of a digestive crisis? Yes. Do I regret it? Not for a second. Part of me wants to go to that same cafe every day to get this breakfast, but then I'd be spending more money that I don't have yet. It didn't seem that expensive when I bought it, but at £6 a breakfast, it's actually like a $10 breakfast. Eeek. Okay, maybe I won't do that again for a while, but that's ok. It'll make it more of a treat. Or I could just cook it at home. While I was at the cafe, I saw a little promotional booklet for the Bristol Puppetry Festival which starts weekend after next. It may sound a little dorky, but some of the shows look like they will be quite haunting. I've never really seen a puppet show before other than Avenue Q, so I think I will go to at least one of the shows.

After I broke my fast, I took to the city, but not before getting caught in a maze of cul de sacs. I already mentioned how everything here goes in circles, but I haven't yet mentioned how sometimes I can't find a way out of a neighborhood, so I end up walking the same roads 10 times trying to figure out which one doesn't have a dead end. I thought I found a way out when I saw this large cricket field which totally was not locked though it had a high fence around it, but every other entrance was locked and I didn't feel like mangling my body in barbed wire trying to get out. I presume the gate I went in was supposed to be locked, but it wasn't. I actually saw several private cricket or other sports fields that were completely locked up. They're scattered about the suburbs, and while it's kind of depressing that these huge fields of green just sit there unused all day, it's nice to know that communities do have their little sports clubs. Just not sure if it's actually available to everyone or just those who pay... I'll have to investigate.

After making several wrong turns, I finally found my way back to roads that go somewhere and headed downtown. I walked down Gloucester Road which I believe I already wrote about some. That quickly became Cheltenham Road. Both roads are a big grungy and very commercial - all kinds of little shops, cafes, restaurants, and snack places. It's the kind of road you walk down and say, "Oooh, I wanna eat there and I wanna see what's in that store and I wanna go to that club on the weekend..." but then realize you already ate and you have no money. Oh well, still fun to look. Cheltenham Road was heading south right into downtown, but right before I got to town, I noticed a very colorful building with some new age hippies in front of it selling used clothes. I didn't go and talk to them, but I wanted to see all the colors anyway. I decided to keep following this road and it seemed intriguing and I figured I was no rush to get into town. It turned out I walked straight into a Afro-Caribbean neighborhood filled with colorful stucco buildings, hair salons, jerk chicken, wonderful murals, and not a white person in sight. Within a few minutes, I had walked from what seemed to be a 90% white area into a 0% white area (well, add me in and I guess it's a little more than 0%). So many people stared at me like they'd never seen a white person before. I don't blame them for this, I just blame whatever structural forces allowed and still allow segregation to be so obvious in pretty much every place you go on earth, from small towns like Douglas, GA to big "modern" cities like New York and Bristol. I soon realized this was a neighborhood called St. Pauls which George had told me was the place to go in Bristol for drugs and prostitutes. Tssk, tssk. Some guy actually did approach me in a non-threatening way on the street, asking, "You alright, man? You need something? You okay? You sure I can't help you with something?" I told him I was just fine and didn't need any help, and then I realized this was the fourth continent in which I've been asked to buy drugs. Woo?

After seeing numerous residences with African pride colors - red, green, gold, and black - and lots of little parks with kids riding bikes and getting asked to buy drugs, I wandered back to the main road and headed into town. I came to a huge roundabout that seemed impossible to cross, but then I saw that there was an underpass that let you go under the road. Brilliant! Better yet, it turned out there was a park in the middle of the roundabout that's not visible from outside the roundabout. Mmmm, secret park. Well, it's not really a secret, but a surprise I suppose. It also had only the second public restroom I've seen in all of Bristol + burbs, so I took advantage of this rare opportunity. I made my way out of the surprise park and on the other side of the roundabout was a city waiting for me to attack. The streets were extremely lively and crowded, just how I like 'em (sometimes). I walked by (but not in) Cabot Circus which is a HUGE shopping center that just opened last September. I went there last Christmas to get some last minute gifts. It's three stories high and like most of Bristol, it's a huge maze. There's any kind of retail store you could want there and a billion coffee shops and restaurants. There was this one obscure coffee place that I remember seemed really intriguing. If I remember correctly it was called Starbucks or something really underground like that.

I somehow stumbled upon The Lanes where George and I went Saturday night. It was encouraging because I felt like I kind of knew where I was (I totally didn't though). Then I turned a corner and somehow ended up in open air market stalls surrounded by buildings and with no roads, so you can't actually see it, only stumble upon it. So many surprises here! Even though Bristol is a very unique city, I can't deny that its open air market stalls were extremely predictable just like those in London, NY, Boston... and the list goes on. I'm sure there's a market somewhere else with more original things, but nonetheless, it was an interesting browse and I got myself a hacky sack. I haven't had one of those in a while but they're quite fun a good way to meet people if you're in a busy park.

After my little market experience, I walked by the River Avon for a bit. The river flows right through downtown Bristol and as I mentioned in an earlier post, it flows through the Avon Gorge which can get up to 300 feet deep. I was getting a bit tired at this point, so I figured I would start walking home (which I knew would take me over an hour or so...), so I headed back up north. I passed by the University of Bristol which looks like a really old church/castle type building, very ornate and dark. I also passed by the College Green, a park filled with young peoples like myself, many skateboarding around a little fountain. I walked away from this downtown madness (not really madness, just crowdedness) so I could space out a bit. I eventually came upon some stone steps. It wasn't clear exactly where it headed, so of course I had to find out. Turns out there's a giant park/nature reserve in the middle of downtown, but somehow it's on this hill and you just can't really tell it's there unless you walk up some mysterious stone steps. Sounds crazy, I know, but if anything has struck me most and made me happiest about being in Bristol, it's that there are parks, nature trails, and open spaces EVERYWHERE and they pop up so unexpectedly. Even though I have a map, you really can't even get a sense from the map of just how much green space there is here. And it's certainly not exclusive just to wealthy neighborhoods. These green spots are everywhere. What's even better is that most of them have what seem to be little off-to-the-side secret entrances. I'm certain they are public places, but you can just be walking down a busy road next to a stone wall or a wall of trees and then all of a sudden there's a little path that takes you to a beautiful field or through a path of trees. It's so wonderful! There's one such space a mere two-minute walk from George's parents house. There's a huge grassy field on a hill so that you get amazing views and lots of fresh air. I frequently see people walking their dogs there or flying kites or what have you. It's very lovely. Score one for Bristol!

After making my way across this lovely park which had wonderful views of the city, I moseyed up a commercial road with lots of expensive restaurants, cafes, and bars. This area is known as Clifton and it's where all the richies live. No joke, every house is about 3-4x bigger than your house. Yes, yours! They are also all very old, probably where some aristocrats lived back in the day, but I'm sure they've all been renovated or just very well maintained throughout the years because they all look flawless, classic but not aged. Eventually I reached the Downs and from this point on, there's no need to tell you much about what happens cause we've been there, done that.

I did a bit more exploring today, but damn, I just don't feel like writing about it right now, so I'm not going to. I'm sure I've already written more than anyone cares to read, but I've never been one for brevity when writing with passion. Hope you've enjoyed more of my adventures!

Oh, and on a final note, I'm going to London this weekend for what I'm sure will be a killer party! It'll be nice to get away for the weekend.

Weekend fun times

This past weekend was very nice and relaxed. A lot of it was filled with George and I planning stuff for the wedding, but luckily we're both of the mindset of "Let's just make a decision and go with it" because neither of us really feel like stressing over this too much. I can see how people would easily drive themselves crazy trying to plan the "perfect wedding." George and I do want a very nice wedding (and it will be nice!) but why not make it simple and understated? We quickly took care of flowers by walking into the florists with George's mother and picking out the first pretty arrangement we saw that would match the pink and blue walls of the ceremony room. It was a simple arrangement of white roses surrounded by some greenery. Done and done. Then we went to get a key made for me so that George and his mom don't have to sacrifice their keys every day. And then George and I headed back to John and Lewis (for the final time!) to pick out the last few items for our gift list. We then got measured for wedding rings which we later ordered online for a very cheap price (cause we ain't got money to just be shoveling out on rings) and finally went to get our wedding cake which was actually supposed to be a birthday cake, but OMG it looks so chocolately and delicious who cares if it's "supposed" to be a birthday cake, right? Although I can't deny I was quite intrigued by the white chocolate and raspberry cake... maybe for another occasion.

So pow! All that wedding planning taken care of in about half a day. Go us! We lazed around for a while after all that running about and looked up some different dance clubs in Bristol cause I love to DANCE! Many of them sounded promising, but many of them also sounded like electro- Euro-pop trash that, despite fast beats, is very difficult to actually groove to and leaves you with no self-respect in the morning. We ended up going to a club called "The Lanes," which is a 50's/60's-styled place complete with bowling lanes and a pool table. We didn't actually bowl (although we did play a few games of pool) but we did dance a good bit to the all-girl line up they had going that night. The selection was very eclectic from hippy-licious dance tracks of the 60s, lipstick punk bands, cheesy 80's pop, and more modern fare from MIA and Gwen Stefani. Of course once the dance floor really got going, they started playing that Euro-pop stuff and some alternative music that wasn't really very danceable at all. Way to kill the dancefloor, DJ! (And no, I wasn't the only one who shared this sentiment... the dance floor quickly dwindled after that crap). Luckily I had already been dancing most of the night cause unlike most people, I'm not intimidated by an empty or nearly empty dance floor. Someone's gotta start the party, right? The only other notable occurance of the night was when George and I were outside kissing (not making out, mind you, we weren't being overly inappropriate) and some guy yelled in a less-than-thrilled tone, "Ugh, look at the faggot's kissing!" to which George yelled "And fucking loving it!" His friends quickly told him he was a douche, though, so hopefully he learned his lesson.

The Lanes was fun, but not quite the fun we had imagined. It probably would be a great place to go if you had several friends and actually did want to bowl (and if someone tells the DJ what's up). The highlight of the evening, though, was just walking from the car into the club ("we migrate...") and back again at the end of the night. The streets were extremely lively with young people like myself out for a good time and drunk people who may have had too much of a good time. We passed by numerous clubs and bars and parks full of drunkies. Amazing how the downtown space can be transformed so quickly into a drunken free-for-all.

Sunday was a very lazy day ("Lazy Sunday, wake up in the afternoon...") though there was no chronic nor Narnia involved. George and I woke up and put on Tootsie which I purchased for only £2 believe it or not. George had never seen it before so I had to share its brilliance with him. It was so much funnier than I remember it.

Afterwards we went to the Blaise Castle Estate which is a huge park with open fields filled with picnic-ing families, children flying kites, people laying out for sun, and dogs running about aimlessly (including the two biggest dogs I've ever seen! They were freaking ginormous! Lurchers, George said they were). There's also a large playground that even looked appealing to my adult-sized body and a little cafe to take care of those hunger pangs. In addition to the open fields, there are lots of nature trails through wooded areas and lots of hills from which you can catch a good glimpse of the surrounding landscape. You can even see Wales from here (granted it's probably close enough for me to walk there in a day). George and I spent a few hours just wandering about all the trails in a peaceful splendor and picking more blackberries with a delicious pie in mind. We also went to the Blaise Castle House Museum which is where we'll be having our civil partnership ceremony. The house is beautiful, filled with objects from the rich family that once lived in the house/on the estate. The picture room is where we're having our ceremony. It's filled with paintings of beautiful landscapes from all over Europe. It's a very lively yet calm room at the same time which is illuminated by the rays of the sun (assuming it's sunny outside), perfect for a wedding.

We came home after several hours at Blaise and vegetated until dinner which George's mother called traditional Sunday dinner fare. I swear everything here is "tradition." Brits seem very proud of their history and many like George's father pretend like America has none. Oh but America's history is the history of the world in many ways all culminating in one giant jumblefuck of who knows what. At least the Brits do have a very definite idea of what their history and tradition is. But perhaps I've generalizing a bit much... I tend to do that when I have nothing else smart to say. But anyway, the "traditional" Sunday dinner - pot roast (which of course I didn't eat), potatoes, carrots, and cauliflower with cheese sauce. Whether traditional or no, it was sufficient to fill my little belly. We followed it up with some apple and blackberry cobbler that George's mom made. Nothing like a tasty cobbler... if only they had more peaches here. The rest of the evening was pretty lazy, just stewing in front of the TV whilst George had his weekly one hour bath. He has to take a bath every Sunday at exactly 10PM or the universe will implode. It's cute, though.

To end on a fun note (cause most silly things like blogs should end on a fun note), here's some British curses that I particularly enjoy, far more interesting than American cursing:

cuntfanny

cunting (as an adj.)

knobhead

knobend

bollocks

wanker

bugger

tits (maybe not a curse, but a good exclamation nonetheless!)

I'm sure there are plenty more... I'll just have to keep my ears open!

Thanks for reading as always!

Exploring and such

So I've been doing a good bit of exploring as most of you can imagine. Nothing excites me more than to be thrown in the midst of a new place and get totally lost. I haven't been too lost, though, since George's parents have a nifty book of maps of Bristol's neighborhoods. My plan is to try and explore as many areas of Bristol as possible. Otherwise, I'll forever be hearing about this neighborhood and that without any idea of where it is and without any mental images of where people are talking about. This is especially important considering that I hope to get some sort of job that has to do with the city, possibly the Bristol City Council (which employs over 15,000 people!) or some other job that requires me to be familiar with the city.

Thursday I walked down to the village without really being sure where I was going to go. (That's the best part of exploring!) I got myself an amazing panini at a little cafe - mozzarella, tomato, and pesto - and then began wondering down (or really up) High Street which soon became Westbury Hill and then soon became Downs Road and then I swear one block later became Brockeridge Road. That is one very annoying thing about the streets here in Bristol. I swear they change names every few (or one) blocks. Alternatively, in the case of Passage Road, it all of a sudden becomes Falcondale Road, but Passage Road technically does not end but you have to turn twice to continue on it. Very strange... another slightly annoying (but also exciting) thing about exploring here is that there are no grid patterns anywhere. Everything goes in circles so if you're not careful, you'll end up in the same spot you started. I had this same problem when I was in Ghana which makes complete sense considering that it was a former British colony and so the street layouts were probably modeled by Brits. I remember in my neighborhood in Ghana, you could seriously walk in just about any direction and somehow end up in the same spot... took me forever to figure that one out. It does make things more interesting, though!

I mostly ended up walking through a lot of residential neighborhoods for an hour or so which was nice because it was very peaceful and very beautiful. I wouldn't say it was a particularly wealthy neighborhood, but you could tell it was for middle and upper-middle class families. I also passed by several boarding schools on this walk, probably four or five. They all have their own little private campuses complete with classrooms, dorms, open areas for sports and play, and other school facilities I imagine. Boarding schools seem to be a very popular option here, much moreso than in America anyway. George actually went to boarding school for several years. He said that he loved it because he got to spend all day with his friends and I'm sure his parents loved it cause they didn't have to put with the little bugger every day of the week! Of course, it costs mucho dinero, so not everyone can afford it. But if you got the money...

After passing by the Coombe Dingle Sports Complex , a large park/gym for recreation, the University of Bristol Residence Halls, and the Trinity Theological College (so many educational institutions!), I came to the Bristol Downs, the largest of most impressive of Bristol's many parks. The Downs are absolutely gorgeous. They are comprised of huge open field spaces that really let you breathe. You just stand in the middle of a huge green space with very green green grass surrounded by joggers, strollers, puppies, people playing soccer (of course they call it football), old men chillin' on benches, and people looking out over the Avon Gorge, a giant crevice through which the Avon River flows (ooh, such proper grammar). At its deepest points, the gorge is 700 feet wide and 300 feet deep. Impressive if I do say so myself. I noticed a little path for walking/biking/whatever right next to the river, so soon I'll have to venture down into the gorge.

I walked around the Downs for quite a while as it is very beautiful and relaxing and there's plenty of space so that I can sing my heart out without annoying people - always an issue in NYC. For those curious about it's size, it's a little bigger than half the size of Central Park. But for those who've been to Central Park, you'd know that even half of that is HUGE and seems even bigger in a smaller city like Bristol. I couldn't help but notice that the homes surrounding the Downs are ridiculously beautiful and big. Wherever there's a nice park, there's rich people living across the street. I got a little lost on my way back thanks to all those circles, but it wasn't so bad other than the fact that my feet began to hurt. I walked back up through the village and stopped by a thrift store (or charity shop as they call them here) and found a beautiful green tie for £2. It's the first tie I've ever bought! Go me! I also really wanted this really cool roll-up magnetic dart board they had (I LOVE DARTS!) but it didn't come with the darts. Good luck selling that one. I headed back home and then George and I went to John & Lewis to pick out wedding gifts. Mmmm... free stuff. Can I just say how badly I want a crock pot? I see lots of spicy stews in my future.

Friday I had an even longer adventure, but this time I decided to walk north into what George deemed to be neighborhoods that weren't quite as nice. Of course, that's never stopped me before. I find all neighborhoods interesting, no matter how rich, poor, clean, dirty, whatever. I think more people should go exploring in neighborhoods they think aren't as nice. Maybe they could learn a thing or two...

I do have to admit that the areas I walked through on Friday were not quite as green and picturesque as what I had seen in Bristol thus far. When I came to little shopping areas, there were much fewer options for eating, groceries, services, and recreation. The food was mostly pizza/kebab places (there are so many of those), fish and chips places (mmmm....), and the occasional pub. The pubs all had a few people sort of idling about in front of them, drinking, smoking, probably depressed by the economic downturn. And the strangest thing of all was that every single Chinese takeout place was closed down. No joke, every single one. I must have seen 10 Chinese places in different neighborhoods, all closed. It was very strange. I mentioned it to George and he speculated that perhaps it was a holiday. I searched for information about possible holidays, but couldn't find anything for August 14th. Anyone have any info on this? I'll keep my eye out to see if their still closed the next time I stop by. Another thing I noticed on my walk was that if you want to get food in a lot of places, you have to go before 2PM or after 5PM because a lot of places close for a few hours. This is smart, I suppose, considering that business would probably be really slow during those hours, but I am not accustomed to lots of places closing for several hours. This made it very difficult for me to find food at 3 in the afternoon, but I finally came back south closer to the city and came to Gloucester (pronounced Glau-ster, only two syllables) Road, an up-and-coming area of Bristol. The area's a bit grungy, but also a bit trendy. You can tell it's going to be like Williamsburg (a trendy gentrified neighborhood in Brooklyn where a lot of NYU students live) in about 10 years or so. I found a vegetarian Indian restaurant on Gloucester Road and had curry vegetables with chickpeas. I could eat Indian food for every meal and be extremely happy. Only problem is that George might not want to share a bed with me anymore...

Small interlude: for those who may be curious about the weather here, all those stereotypes about English weather are pretty true. On a nice day when the sun is out, it's pretty warm and pleasant, definitely warm enough for shorts and flip flops, but not hot. However, when the sun is not out (which is sadly more often than not), it's pretty gloomy and cool outside. Given that it's the summer, I still wouldn't call it cold, but I've had to wear pants and a light sweater on several occasions. It's a bit strange coming from south Georgia where I wouldn't even consider a sweater until October. But I suppose it's nice not to be extremely hot and sticky 24/7.

Friday night, George and I went to the pub that his parents visit quite often. (We did some quick blackberry picking first since there are blackberries EVERYWHERE here, including right outside the pub). His dad was already there and his mom was soon to arrive. It's a cozy little place, always crowded in the evening hours with people from the village. It's surprising to see how many people George's parents know. They get caught up in conversations for hours there. George and I had some English cider and he answered some questions I had about Britain's national health care system as it's been in the news a lot thanks to health care debates in America. Bottom line: though not perfect, anyone here can get free health and dental care, no matter how rich or poor. Pretty sweet, no? Some people complain that it takes too long to actually get seen by a doctor, which I suppose is the biggest down side, but at least Britain takes care of their own. And if you're willing and able to shell out the money, you can get private health care here. Hopefully all those rich people in America who have more than enough money to afford private health care will stop complaining and the US can get on board with nationalized health care.

After the pub, I went out with George and his parents to an Indian restaurant in the village (Indian two meals in a row! It actually turned out to be more like five meals after Saturday... hehe). We came home for some light TV and then went to bed with a full list of things to do for Saturday which will simply have to wait because I need to go outside and get some fresh air before I go crazy! Expect more blogging (hopefully) tomorrow!

Mmmmm.... pubs

Wednesday night was particularly fun as George's best friend George DB came to visit for the night. (I'll refer to him as "DB" to make things less confusing). We made some tasty pasta for dinner while chatting about how difficult it is to get a job post-graduation. Granted, I haven't tried since I haven't even been here and am still not trying as I'm not legal to work, but I have enough friends who've been unsuccessful at finding a job to know that I need to go in with extremely low expectations. DB was no different as he's also been looking for jobs to no avail... *sigh*. What I don't get is how practically every job requires that you have a few years experience and yet there are no jobs that offer you experience without requiring it. Am I supposed to work for free for a few years before I can get a job? (Probably.)

After dinner, we went down to the village for trivia night at the White Horse Tavern. True, there are plenty of places in the US you can go for trivia. Hell, even the Rockin' Sports Pub in Douglas has trivia on Tuesday nights. But for some reason, it just feels more right when you're in the UK. And it feels more right when I'm with George because he, like me, is a harbinger of useless information. We had a hard time choosing our name, but finally settled on "The Kinky Red Nappies" thanks to an anagram we had as one of our first questions (though I still think nothing beats "Quiz in My Pants"). I was very proud of myself as I was the only one of us three who knew the answer to the first question - Aerosmith, of course. But then EVERY question after that was super British so I was fairly useless from there on out. But the next round was very exciting. It was a "Family Feud"-type game where we had to choose the top five most common answers for questions like, "sports you play with trousers on" (golf was NOT one of the top 5 answers!). The only one we completely swept was "places you are most likely to find a conveyer belt" which is totally not the category I imagined us sweeping - can you guess what the five were?

We ultimately lost both rounds by a mere question or two. Damn you, Three Amigos! But nevertheless, we enjoyed the game and our drinks and of course each other's company. We talked about how alcohol at pubs in the UK is a lot cheaper than at bars in the US. At a typical pub, you pay about £3 for a British pint (20 oz.) of beer and you don't have to tip, whereas in the US, it's like $4-6 for an American pint (16 oz.) of beer and you do have to tip a dollar if you don't want your next drink to be 50% piss. You can also find amazing pub deals like a meal and a drink for £5-6. Plus, I love how pubs feel like you're in someone's oversized home complete with comfy chairs, fireplaces, carpet, and kitsch decorations. Plus I don't have to yell at the person two feet away from me just so they can hear me. And to top it off, there's like a million of them and they have really cool names that make you think you've stepped into a medieval storybook - places like the White Horse, the Black Crow, the Earl of Wincester, the Three Goats' Heads, or the Royal Ark. Yes, I do love me some pubs.

We left a little past 11 and had a lively conversation about deja vu and why it happens. Then we had a pissing contest over whose hometown was smaller and more boring (I think I win). We ended the night by watching one of the best South Park episodes ever - A Very Critter Christmas. George and DB had never seen it before, and as most people are, they were mortified and writhing in laughter at the same time. The British may do a lot of things right, but they can't make amazingly inappropriate cartoons like us Americans!

I have one more name for you:

Catbrain Hill... ewwww....

Ahhh!!! I'm in England!

A big welcome to all my friends and family (and any other random people who may stumble across my ramblings) to my new blog! Not to gloat, but my life is just too action-packed and too British not to write all about it for everyone to read. Plus, this saves me the trouble and the phone chargers of telling everyone single one of my friends about all the minute yet (hopefully) fascinating details of my life here in England. As some of you I'm sure remember, I kept a blog when I studied abroad in Ghana in 2007 (http://drewinghana.blogspot.com). Though read by few, those who did told me how interesting they found it. On a more self-centered level, I also found writing that blog very useful in sorting out my thoughts on such an incredibly new and interesting place, and now, I forever have those memories to look back on and smile (or cry, whatever). But enough with the introductions - let's jump straight into the adventures!

I arrived in Bristol, England (my residence for the next few years) on Sunday, August 9th at 9:30AM. I was quite delirious when I arrived because I had literally slept a total of 7 hours within a 65-hour period thanks to staying up far past sunrise skinny dipping in my hometown of Douglas, GA Thursday night, followed by a long day of packing and sorting out things before I left, followed by me not being able to sleep because of my anxiety at leaving and having a Beyonce song stuck in my head, followed by the impossibility of sleeping on an airplane (though I did mange four hours total sleep over the course of three separate flights). Considering that I then stayed awake for another ten hours in Bristol after arrive, I got 7 hours of sleep in a 75-hour period, probably the most sleep-deprived I've ever been. Woohoo! But anyway, my circadian rhythms (or lack of) are not the purpose of this blog. You'll find I get carried away quite easily for which I apologize.

So I arrived at the Bristol airport at 9:30AM, showed off my fancy proposed civil partnership visa to the immigration officer, got my bags, and then immersed myself in the pure bliss of my Georgie's arms. It had been almost four months since seeing him, so you can imagine our joy at being in each other's embrace once more, only this time we knew neither of us would have to leave! Mmmm, what a nice feeling!

The first thing I did when we walked out to George's car was go and stand by the driver's side, to which George said, "Are you driving us home?" I then realized my mistake, although I've made the same mistake every single time we've gone to get in the car. It's just instinctual for me to choose the right side of the car if I'm not driving. George said he would put me on his insurance soon and then get me driving. I'm a bit nervous seeing as how I'm not used to driving on the left side of the road nor do I know how to drive a stick shift. And to make matters worse, roundabouts scare the ba-jesus out of me. Yes, I know they've worked perfectly well for millions of people for many years now, but that doesn't change the fact that they look like a huge 30-car accident waiting to happen. Meh, I'll be fine. I just won't drive anywhere by myself for a long time.

Anyways, we made our way back to George's parents house which is where we'll both be staying for the next few months. George doesn't seem to happy about the situation, but I'm more than content to stay and eat somewhere for free considering I have massive amounts of debt and no job at the moment. (For those who may be wondering, I can legally work once George and I get our civil partnership on September 5th). George and I chatted with his parents for a bit. They're very lovely people, though I already knew that. I stayed with them for a week over Christmas holidays and found them to be nothing but kind and giving. I then took a shower as I felt pretty gross after the flight, and then George and I went off to the grocery store owned by the co-operative, a socially responsible business that puts people over profits. We always hear in the US how cheap our food is, but honestly, it seems that food in the UK is even cheaper (granted for me it's still more expensive since I can only get 55 pence per the dollar). Not only is it cheaper, but it smelled so much better than any grocery store in the US, probably because of all the fresh-baked bread. Mmmm, nothing beats that smell unless you like to eat animals. Then bacon wins.

After George and I got back, we made a small salad with some hummous on the side and cozied up on the couch to watch the cricket match between England and Australia called the Ashes. The match is called this because sometime in the late 19th century England lost a cricket match to Australia in an embarrassing defeat which was deemed the death of English cricket. If I have my story right (from what George told me), the wickets were then burned to symbolize the death, and ever since then, England and Australia play an annual cricket game to determine who gets possession over the ashes. At the start of the game, Australia had the ashes. We watched for an hour or so until they took a lunch break. That might seem lazy on their part, but to be fair, the game does last several days. For those unfamiliar with the game, go look it up, or go watch the Bollywood musical Lagaan which was my introduction to cricket. It looks like a really fun game to play. Of course it's got some similarities to baseball which I also love a lot and which is pretty much nonexistent here. After the lunch break, England ended up losing a pretty embarrassing defeat to Australia. Poor Brits. Beaten at their own game. Oh well, maybe next year!

Later in the day we grilled meats and shrimps (or prawns as they call them here) and vegetarian sausages and enjoyed them with potato salad and a salad of greens in the rare warm sunshine of Bristol. George and his family informed me that they've had an unusually rainy and cold winter (which is pretty bad if you knew how rainy and cold it is here without being unusual), but I got lucky and came on a very beautiful day. After our wonderful picnic, George and I turned on the TV to watch some Doctor Who which is probably my third favorite thing to come out of England after George and booze-filled desserts. The food began to hit me just as the doctor and Martha were about to save the world AGAIN, and so I went to bed very early knowing I would be sleeping many many peaceful hours snuggled up to the man I love.

The next day, Monday, I awoke alongside George at 7:30AM refreshed and ready for my first full day living in England. Granted I didn't really go out and see anything that first day because I spent the entire day cleaning George's room (well, our room now!), unpacking my own things, and and dancing to the radio. Speaking of which, I feel like some higher power tried to give me a message that my life here in England would be everything I want it to be because, no joke, the first time I turned on the radio and started flipping through stations, Mariah Carey's "Obsessed" was playing, and for those of you who know me well, you'll know that I really am obsessed with Mariah and nothing makes me happier than to hear her music on the radio. It's like England was sending me a big "welcome!" by making that my first song here.

George also came home for his lunch break, so I made us some food for a midday meal. I felt very much like a house husband. (But not for long!) Later once everyone got home, George's mother made us a delicious supper of broccoli, potatoes, salad, and some mycoprotein for me and meat for everyone else. For any of you from the US who are vegetarians or are considering becoming vegetarians, let me just say I am sorry that you don't live in the UK. Reason being that in the US, almost all the imitation meat is made of soy which just doesn't cut it. Here the big thing is mycoprotein which is made from fermented mushroom protein. It is more nutrious, tastier, and much easier to digest than soy products, but for some reason it's extremely difficult to find in the US. Even in New York City I had to search around many shops just to find it, and then when I did find it, it was overpriced. Get with it, America! Back to the evening, our dinner was very nice and our conversation was very lively, filled with plans for the wedding/civil partnership ceremony/whatever you prefer to call it, talk of everyone's day, and then most importantly, just getting to know each other better and feeling more comfortable with each other. I'm definitely surprised at how quickly I have come to feel at ease around George's parents, and I was very touched when George's dad told me that they were excited to be my parents. We ended up talking until bedtime which was very pleasant and very rare to find this day and age as most people just rush off for the TV as soon as dinner is done (or they were already there to begin with). All in all, a very good day!

The next day, or yesterday (Tuesday), George and I once again awoke at 7:30AM. I forgot to mention for those who don't know, George has a job at a pharmacy right now. He just graduated with his Master's in pharmacy and has signed a contract with a pharmacy here in Bristol. The first year is sort of like a training year in which he's the pharmacy's little slave-in-training who doesn't get paid much, but after this year, he'll be a fully certified pharmacist and will continue working with the same pharmacy for at least a year. Pretty hot, no?

Unlike the day before, I actually went out and explored yesterday. I went to the nearby village called Westbury-on-Trym. When I say village, don't picture Broxton or Ambrose or anything like that. It's more like a cute little spot with all the basic necessities of life - a grocery store, bookstore, gift shops, post office, a few services, a church, etc. - which isn't very far from the large city of Bristol. The village is only a 15-minute walk from George's parents. On my walk I couldn't help but thinking that Bristol has to be the most beautiful city I've ever seen (though if I saw Portland, Oregon again, I might change my mind). Everything here seems so unbelievably green despite the fact that the population here is quite dense. Everywhere you look, there's so much greenery and beautiful plants. Look in pretty much anyone's yard and you'll see wonderful trees and well-kept gardens. Go to the local church and you'll see picturesque cemeteries surrounded by peaceful gardens. On top of that, the buildings all seem as if they're in very good condition even though the architecture is very classic. And, of course, as with most any walkable city (which Bristol certainly is), the street life is bustling with people and puppies. I just got a very nice feeling from being out and am sure that feeling will not fade. In some ways I'm very fortunate to be from Douglas, GA because I feel I can truly appreciate beautiful places like Bristol (no offense to Douglas! I love it too!).

On my walk, I went by the post office to exchange money ($204 turned into 113 pounds - stupid website won't let me make the pound symbol) and buy stamps so that I could mail invites for the civil partnership ceremony. How exciting! The invites are BEAUTIFUL by the way. I'll try to post one soon for those of you who aren't getting them. (Quick note: I apologize to all my US friends for not inviting you, but the thing is, I know that none of you have money and I don't want to ask you to spend a lot of money on a plane ticket and hotel rooms, especially when I wouldn't really be able to spend any time with you as I'd be busy spending time with George, his parents, my parents, and wedding preparations. But please come visit anytime you want and I promise you'll have a free place to stay unless you bring like 20 friends with you!) Other than that, I didn't really have anything in particular to do, so I just ambled about as I am accustomed to doing no matter where I am in the world. When I came back, I was nice and sweaty, so I had a shower, surfed the net, danced about (as I am also accustomed to doing), and waited for the fam to get home. We all chatted for a bit when they did get back, but not for long as George and I soon rushed off to a department store called John and Lewis where we are registered for wedding gifts. Unfortunately the store closed earlier than George thought, so we only got to spend 15 minutes there, but afterward George took me to Britain's first Wal-Mart (as if I'd never seen one before) so we could pick up some cheap groceries. When we returned home, I forced George to watched A Nightmare on Elm Street because he had never seen it before (ludicrous, right?). In addition to being an integral part of my childhood, A Nightmare on Elm Street is a must see for anyone who cares about quality horror films and American culture. We were pretty tired after that, so it was sleepy bobos for us. And then today happened. But nothing really happened other than me writing this blog. Tonight, however, George's best friend from back-in-the-day, George (yes, same name) is visiting and we plan to have a big time! And yes, I've met him before and he's a great guy to hang out with so I'm very excited. I'll let you know all about it and all my other adventures on a future day. Until then, I hope I haven't bored you too much and I hope you'll check back periodically for updates. I imagine I'll update pretty often over the next month seeing as how I have no job as I already mentioned, so I should have some time to kill at the house. Cheers, everyone!

And a humorous note to end this blog entry on...

Funny place names I've seen or heard thus far (yes, I know I act like a 12-year old sometimes, but really, shouldn't we all?):

Cockfosters

Coombe Dingle

Dick Lovett