Strong Bows are STRONG

Ok, I'm gonna try to write this quickly because I have a massive headache. A little too much bonding too late last night.

I had my internship (sorry, work placement) interview yesterday morning. The offices are right off Camden Market, it's a really hip location. I seemed to feel a little out of place walking there in my black dress and black heels when everyone else around was wearing colorful pants and prints. But no matter because I *not* get lost and even got there 10 min early.

So instead of going straight to Interact, I headed to the bathroom to make last min checks on my hair and make-up. I was still looking in the mirror when I heard WAH WAH WAH PLEASE SAFELY MOVE TO THE EXITS WAH WAH WAH. It was a fire alarm going off literally next to my head.

I didn't know what to do. Maybe it would shut off? Should I just go to the office and scream over the alarm? What if it's an actual fire?

So I walked downstairs where I saw the fire marshal waiting while everyone came out. It's a very small office building, maybe 30 or 40 people were standing together talking. It was pretty obvious I didn't belong. The marshal was writing everyone's name down to make they got out all right, I was worried he was going to ask me and I'd have to be like 'Um...I don't actually work here..I just..like fire drills?" But eventually a woman came up to me and asked if I was Aviva for the internship with Maryland. And it was smooth after that.

Last night we went to the Ish Bar and then to The Rocket, which is a massively popular pub for students. It was a great night except for when some woman grabbed my hair and screamed "IS THIS REAL? CURLY HAIR IS SO LOVELY! I LOVE IT!" Ok, thanks lady, no need to yank here.

I'm glad that I got to hang out with more people on my program, especially since I won't be back until Saturday night, and I'm missing a lot of stuff. My roommates think I never want to come out with them since I'm never here on the weekends. It's hard but I think after the Chagim it'll be a little easier.

Have a great Rosh Hashana!



One more thing. I'm trying to raise money for the Jewish National Fund so I can go and do community service there this winter break. If you wanna do something nice before Rosh Hashana, I'd appreciate literally any amount donation.
Thanks!
http://support.jnf.org/site/TR/Events/ASBPages?px=3479930&pg=personal&fr_id=1680

Awkward Town

So, so far, transitioning into London has not been my usual awkward introduction as it usually is when I start new places. It was too suspicious. Good thing I got my dose of uncomfortableness back today in spades.

This morning, being too lazy to open a window to check the weather and/or look it up on-line. I decided to wear thick black stockings with this longish blue sweater over a button down (This is important to the story, I'm not just telling everyone what I wore today.)
I had planned on going to check out the Euston Street Hillel this morning before class. I left 2 hours before class and it was a beautiful sunny day out...too sunny.
By the time I got to Starbucks, I was getting a little warm but other people were wearing jackets and boots so i didn't feel dumb. I started walking down Euston.
By the time I got to the building, my iced Chai Latte was long gone, but I was still sweating. I was buzzed in and tried to open a door (that I didn't see was marked FIRE EXIT) When a man came through another door.

"You're using the wrong door. Haven't you been here before? Come with me" He said with a thick Russian accent.
"Ah yeah...sorry, I'm new. I'm a study abroad student?"
He brought me down some stairs to an office next to a lounge. "Do you have ID?"
"Yeah! Sorry, here...Hi! My name's Aviva."
"*Blank stare* Don't sit on the couches, we just had a flood."
"Oh..ah okay. Cool thanks."

I walked through the opening into this big room/lounge in which I saw couches had been roped off. There were around 5 college age kids eating a table, two sitting on chairs, two playing pool and one girl on a computer. It wasn't like the Hillel and Maryland where you can slip in unnoticed. It was super hot. My tights felt tighter. Everyone looked up at me here.
"Oh..uh. Hi."
I walked over to the girl and boy playing pool. The girl was nice and introduced herself and the boy. I talked to them for 23 seconds. 

Now, I don't have a problem speaking to new people, at all. Except in this scenario, I knew that EVERYONE could hear me trying to talk to them. Brits talk really quietly. And I do not. So I walked over to the boys on the couch.
After the initial name/"I'm from New York" exchange, I knew that it was my turn to talk except all I could think was: EFF WHY am I sweating so MUCH? Why did I wear these DAMN stockings? WHY AM I EVEN ALIVE???
The boy turned to continue talking with his friend. At this point it was just pretty obvious I wasn't gonna make any great connections so I picked up my phone and made a noise like 'Oh'. 

As in 'Oh! I'm late for my imaginary appointment. I'd love to stay and awkwardly hover over your conversation and sweat but unfortunately I only allotted myself 6 and a half minutes to check this place out and my time is up.'So I picked up and headed out. Probably leaving them all raising their eyebrows at each other like 'well that was weird...'

 
Obviously I can never return.

As soon as I left I walked to Boots to get some lighter tights since my sweater was barely covering my bum. So I bought some opaque ones, which were completely see-through. All day I was pulling down my sweater, especially since it had started raining and being all windy once I left Boots. Eff.

After Theater class later, I went and bought a big vanilla milkshake to reward myself for even going there alone. One small step...

Sticky Toffee Pudding Day

Another adorable Shabbat with another adorable British couple.
Some new developments from this weekend:

I tried Sticky Toffee Pudding (Interestingly, NOT pudding but a soft cake)

I used the word 'dodgey' 'proper' and 'uni' in regular conversation

Today the lovely couple I stayed with had friends over for lunch, they were all 20-something Jewish Londoners and it was like watching an episode of Friends UK. One boy at lunch looked WEIRDLY exactly like a boy at Maryland (don't ask me who). Same face, same eye color, same beard, they even have the same name. Except the British version was a lot nice than the boy I know. I kept looking at him and then being a little shocked when he spoke with an accent (another good friend-making tip: Stare at someone creepily and then be surprised when they speak to you).

This boy kept asking me questions about what Americans do in university since our drinking age is so high.

Boy: No wonder you Americans love TV so much! You can't drink! What is there to do at Uni?!
Me: Uh, well usually someone will have a fake, or you'll just be friends with older kids who have parties, but there's plenty of alcohol.
Boy: But what about Uni student pubs?
Me: Well we don't have "pubs" really in Maryland, we have dirty clubs that people sometimes get stabbed in.

(When I told him I was in University of Maryland he goes "Wait, I think I've been there...is that the school that's covered in Turtles?")

My friend told me how she met these Brits who thought the giant red Solo cups were a Hollywood myth. That they don't really sell them in America, they were just invented for movies like American Pie. She told them that yes they really do exist and they asked her if she had any on her to show them.

Tonight I got home and decided to go for a run since I had been eating gummy alligators and toffee pudding all day. I found 20 dollars in my running shoes which made me feel like the Exercise Fairy had prematurely rewarded me for moving.

I jogged (or yogged...as some say) down Marylebone Road for about an hour. It's very crowded and everyone is fancy, some were even coming from a 20's themed party wearing fringe dresses and long pearl strands. I felt dumb in my leggings and sweaty T-shirt standing next to them waiting for the light to change. But the joke's on them when I'm all skinny and they're all well...far away in their own lives because they don't know or care about me.

This week school starts, so I have tomorrow to do all my required reading for my classes.

Just kidding, why would I think I would be different in London than I am in school at home?

Jack The Stripper

I've been having a problem here that I also had when I started at College Park. And I call it the "shoulds". I don't want to waste any time here but I always feel like I *should* be doing something other than what I'm doing at the moment. Should I be at museums? Bonding with my roommates? Clubbing with people on my program? Out meeting Brits at pubs? Spending more time in the Jewish areas? I never feel like I'm doing the right thing. And it's pretty frustrating.

Yesterday I saw Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy at the cute little theater down my block. I am used to giant multiplexes in New York that play 12 movies at a time. This one had two screens and had three showings a day.

Even though people had said this movie was amazing and the best film of the year....I did not understand ANY of it. I like to think that I'm pretty clever when it comes to following movie plots but 20 min into the movie, I already knew I would not be able to get it.

Also because I fell asleep for 10 min, and took a bathroom break, and the old lady next to me was crumpling paper the whole time. Not because she was trying to unwrap a candy or anything, she was just compulsively twisting paper. So it's official. Old people are universally annoying in movie theaters.

At 7, my friend and I went to the Jack The Ripper tour (Yay I did something I said I would do!). The tour takes you around the East End, to the places JTR murdered prostitutes, the actual taverns they worked around, the places he left clues, the history of the area. It was fascinating (since I seem to have a little of an obsession with serial killers) but our tour guide was this tiny Irish girl who was a little too chipper when describing the gruesome murders. She had this portable projector that she used to show us pictures of what the area looked like 130 years ago, or what the cut up hooker bodies looked like. The best part of the tour was seeing a barber shop called Jack The Clipper. What's next? A club called Jack The Stripper?
It was a cool tour, especially since that area isn't so great even now, so you really DO feel like you could also be murdered at any second.

I had never learned that Jack had tried to blame the Jews for his murders. I didn't know there was any connection between Jews and him so that was a little weird for her to show a slide of what JTR wrote in chalk on the wall after a kill, "THE JUWES ARE THE MEN THAT WILL NOT BE BLAMED FOR NOTHING." If a serial killer told me that I would be like "wait, that's a double negative. Are you saying they will be blamed? Also, you might want to check your spelling in your cryptic murder clues. That's just a suggestion."

Anyways it's Friday Friday (gotta get down on Friday) and that means another Shabbat at people's houses I don't know. But it's my sister's friend so I'm excited. Soon I'll be using Shabbat.com to find places and that'll be really interesting.

Everyone wants a Shabbat guest who likes to talk about serial killers, right?

My First London Injury!

I'm so tired right now. But I know if I don't write now, tomorrow all the details will be pretty fuzzy.

I woke up this morning all set to go to Buckingham Palace, but my throat was bothering me so I was like, fuck it, Buckingham Palace isn't going anywhere. So I went back to sleep for another 3 hours. I assumed my roommates had gone out (I need to stop doing that) so when I saw them come out of their room later I was like "Oh, you guys haven't left yet?" and one said "Nope..but we did hear you singing in the shower earlier." Dammit, these girls need bells.

Today was an adventure however, I discovered the birthplace of chaos. And that place...is Primark. What was described to me as Target, was a massive department store with the feeling of Black Friday. On a random Wednesday afternoon.

As soon as my roommate and our friend walked through the door, I lost them. It was pandemonium. I was shoving things in my cart just because others were grabbing things. I lost all sense of time or purpose or moral compass. I was simply in survival mode. I did however end up getting useful things such as sheets and a towel. I also seemed to have bought two size 14 sweaters and 6 belts. Actually 6 belts. JUST because they were 3 pounds for 2! So...does anyone need to borrow a belt? I have a few.

Tonight a few of us went to club called Moonlighting. This was described as a "chill place, like a pub. No you don't need to change out of your giant Primark sweater." But alas this "chill place" turned out to be a raging night club which looked like the inside of a spaceship. I was clearly underdressed, seeing as most of these girls were wearing spandex dresses. I had forgotten my spandex attire at home.
It had taken us around an hour to actually find this place. During said walk I turned around for a second to ask my friend a question and when I turned around I smacked my face into a street pole. It was actually very cartoon-like. And quite painful. I think I might be developing a bruise there. My first London injury!

It's not even that late but my throat has started hurting again, and I don't want a late start tomorrow since it will be the highlight of my life: Jack The Ripper walking tour.

Adios Muchachos.

Torture and Theater!

I don't know why I say what I'll be doing the next day the night before. It never turns out to be true.

This morning, I checked out Wikipedia's list of museums in London and turns out there are a lot more than I had been expecting. Some were the famous ones like The British Museum and the National Portrait Gallery but some were oddly specific like the museum of British Sewing Machines. I haven't even been to the American sewing machine museum yet, it didn't seem appropriate to go to the London one first.

I decided on the Clink Street Museum: One the site of "London's oldest and most gruesome jail from 1150 until the late 19th century." Yes, this was definitely better than some stupid portraits.
Once I got to the museum ('following signs that said 'Prisoners this way if you dare!'), I had been following a large crowd of people but then I saw that none of them were heading down the dark stairs leading to the entrance. Seriously, this entrance is majorly sketchy, and I'm pretty sure the walls were screaming.

I bought my ticket and pushed through a heavy wooden door, a little bit wishing I had brought someone with me because yes, the walls had speakers in them emitting screams. The dark corridors were empty, oh except wax figures chained to the walls. Those were a nice touch.
I had resigned my fate that I would probably be killed by a wax figure in this haunted medieval prison, probably with one of the hundreds of torture devices open for anyone to use, when a little family walked in. So I pretty much followed them around for the rest of the museum.

All around the museum there are these horrible bloody depictions of what sort of torture went on during the centuries this prison was active and underneath the posters they had things that said "Fun thing to do! Try to imagine how hungry you'd have to be before you'd eat a rat!" or "Fun thing to do! Put your head on this chopping block and have someone take a picture!"
It was a good try for the museum to try to engage children but then again...why are you bringing your child to a dungeon full of devices that make Saw seem like a Disney movie? (And to answer their question, I would probably not have to be that hungry before I'd eat a rat. I eat roughly 7 times a day, prison or no prison)

Tonight was our first play for our London stage class. This one was called "The Faith Machine" and it's only been out since August so don't pretend like you've seen it. I don't have anything funny to say about this play. It was magnificent. It spans a 10 year relationship, each act going back and forth in years, following a passionate idealistic yet naive Londoner woman and a American ("I'm not just an American, I'm a New Yorker") who although once had the same motivations as the girl, sells his soul a little to become a name in the advertising business. It also involves her ex-Bishop father, their flamboyant college friend and a former prostitute Russian housekeeper. It was powerful without being preachy. Every character was unique yet you could see something of yourself in everyone. If it ever comes to the states I would really recommend it.

Now it's time to turn in, I've done so much walking this week. You'd think I'd start losing weight but I reward myself with ice cream every day for getting so much exercise. I think I'm just breaking even.

Until tomorrow my lovelies.

Internships are Not Work Placements

Hi Lads and Lassies of Cyberworld,

Today, myself and the kids doing internships (or "work placement" as it's called in the UK. They stressed to NOT say internships but didn't explain what the difference was. Now I'm worried the word internship is offensive or like, something hookers do) hopped on a train for our first meeting about where we'll be working, dress codes, questions etc.

Orientation was given by this extreeeeeemly overly caffeinated blonde woman who helpfully explained that offices in the UK were similar to The Office UK. I tried to watch that once but could not understand a word because of the accents. So that doesn't inspire much hope. She mentioned the importance of drinking tea at work as well as going out to the pubs with your colleagues after work. This is cool since I've never gotten a drink with someone I worked for. Although I doubt going the bar with the rabbi of the Judaica store I worked at would've gone so well...especially since I got fired 3 years ago...

I'll be working at an organization to promote tolerance between faiths, including writing for it's Interfaith magazine. All I have to do is not act crazy at the interview and the job is mine. She said the first few tasks will be easy to test our skills: "Don't be discouraged if your first tasks are things like filing or doing some stapling, they'll just be trying to see if your a good worker."
Now, I don't want to brag but I'm a pretty impressive intern, and if they can look at my resume and see that I've worked for the NY Law Department but can't work a stapler than they might be too picky in who they're looking for here.

For my first class today...it finally happened. I got hopelessly lost since they give the vaguest instructions in this program ("You're class in basically next to the library." Good thing there aren't SIX DIFFERENT LIBRARIES in a 3 block radius). I asked someone for directions but got distracted since he sounded like the vulture from the Jungle Book. Eventually, after calling the program director, I found my way. Only 15 min late!

After class, I came home to an empty apartment and assumed my roommates were still at classes or out doing whatever roommates do. So obviously I commenced my favorite after-school hobby of playing the same song over and over (today's was Mike Tompkin's rendition of Misery) and attempting to make dinner (most of my meals are improvisations of what I like to call "Last Ditch Attempt at Nutrients After A Twix Bar for Lunch")
I had been downstairs for an hour or two when my roommate comes in and says "Hey, you've been playing this song for an hour."
"Oh..uh you've been here? You heard me?"
"Yeah, we also heard when you dropped all the spices, yelled NO! and then said 'it's ok...they're ok...'"
Awesome.

Since my Met classes don't start until next week, tomorrow is an open day. I was thinking about checking out Center for Jewish Life, or maybe the Hillel on Euston. Everyone seems to be convinced my future husband is in England. I might as well make finding me easier. (Also making it easier for everyone to find me, seeing as that I have way more hits on this site than I had been expecting, especially from countries I don't know anyone in...but that's probably the Criminal Minds talking...)