Happy new year!

I'm going to keep this post short. I've done absolutely nothing noteworthy today, besides making cookies with zero measuring cups and therefore making it a disaster. The cookies turned out flat, with almost a muffin like texture. Epic failure. Next time I think Ollie and I should follow a recipe and measure the ingredients. Just a thought! 

I've had a really good 2014. However I am looking forward to beginning the new year. In 2015 I will be 24 with two degrees completed. I will no doubt be in debt by a lot, because degrees aren't cheap, however it will be worth it. I will be one step closer to my career. What exactly will that be? I couldn't tell you myself, but I do know it will definitely have to do with film and or media. 

I'm really happy that 2015 will be spent with Ollie. Moving in together this past September was the best decision I've made in a long time. He's the best companion and truly a terrific human being that sees the best in everyone. 

This new year for me is different because I'm not in America, but I've accepted that things change and as an adult I need to be happy with the change-I need to enjoy myself and live in the moment. I hope everyone has a safe and happy new year!!

-Leah

Blog Post 4: UK to US

Next week, I go back to the US for a couple weeks. I will be fully submerged back into the land of stars and stripes. I'm looking forward to being able to go to any restaurant and ask for a side of ranch dressing Yes, ranch dressing is not a thing in this country. I did some quick research and ranch dressing was invented in California. Although, there is a chicken, bacon and ranch sub at the UK and US Subway, but the ranch at the UK Subways don't taste anything like real ranch dressing. It tastes more like sour cream, mostly bland.

The purpose of the trip isn't to get my hands on some ranch dressing, but trust me I will. I'll be bringing a couple bottles back for Ollie and I because I accidentally got him addicted. When I say accidentally I mean on purpose, because I love the stuff and we both like the same kind of food. Except he loathes broccoli and cauliflower and I really like it (if cooked properly). Anyways, the purpose of my trip is to see my family before I complete the next two semesters of my degree. I'm pretty susceptible to homesickness, however never had this issue in college. Well, I did get homesick at first my Freshman year of college, but it was quite different than living at home with my mom. Anyways, I'll be home for a couple weeks and then I'll be back in Aberystwyth with Ollie and then two days later I begin my classes.

As the flight gets closer, I get more nervous. It'll be my first time away from Ollie for more than a couple hours (since we ended the distance) and I'll be flying for about 12 hours total. It's silly for me to be afraid of flying, because statistically it's far more dangerous to be in a car. Car accidents take the lives of so many people, and the horrific part is lots of those are innocent drivers who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Don't get me started on how dangerous it is to be drunk driving, one of my friend's parents got hit by a driver under the influence and they hit her car head on. Despite my friend's mom being sober and in the right, she lost her life. With the recent missing airplanes in the spotlight it makes me even more hesitant to board a plane. Then add in the Ebola virus into the mixing pot and how people are traveling from Sierra Leone to the UK and US, and you have me feeling paranoid. Am I being silly? Maybe. These two variables are completely out of my hands and it doesn't make sense for me to worry about something I can't control. However I wouldn't be myself if there isn't a bit of worrying, I am a bit of a worry wart.

So here I am now, sitting with my feet up on our coffee table, watching The Parent Trap (1998), a film that probably impacted my childhood in terms of films. I was lucky enough to spot it on the TV guide and knew instantly that I had to watch it. Although it makes me quite sad because Natasha Richardson is in it; rest in peace, and she was terrific in it. Additionally she was the partner of Liam Neeson and I love him. How could anyone not love him? From the badass dad in Taken to Star Wars Episode 1. I worshipped Star Wars Episode 1 after seeing it, I remember being "Queen Amidala" for Halloween. Anyways, I watched The Parent Trap multiple times growing up and I'll never forget that I learned a very tasty, yet type II Diabetes luring treat- Oreos dipped in peanut butter. Ooh, I'd love that right now!

In a couple hours' time the stew Ollie and I made will be ready. We're using the slow cooker my sisters and brother in law got for me, a fantastic Christmas gift. I'm ridiculously excited because I've never made my own stew, but I've always wanted to. Ollie and I went to the Castle of Aberystwyth ruins an hour ago. It was so beautiful, but very cold. I'm happiest here though, in our apartment, cozied up on the couch, watching a film. Watching films is my favorite thing in the world.

Thanks for reading,
Leah

Blog post #3

Before I begin my blog piece on today and following that with my recount of this past Saturday, I want to answer something that several readers that are coworkers with my sister (yes here’s a shout out to you!) want clarified. They expressed that I say I don’t like England, but don’t clearly state why. So here’s what I have to offer.

When I first got to the UK, I was in Western England, Bristol- while Ollie was finishing his summer internship. During that time I was alone all day until 7 or 8 PM so I’d often go out into the city by myself and just explore. Picture me walking down a crowded sidewalk (they call them footpaths or pavement here) all alone, the world my oyster. Despite the fact that people were all around me I still felt very alone. I’m very convinced that each person gives off vibes, almost a type of energy. There can be good vibes, bad vibes, or even vibes indescribable by words. I couldn’t feel any good vibes when in Bristol. People would walk briskly past me, eyes on the ground, keeping to themselves. I’m not sure if Americans know this, but British people pride themselves of the phrase “stiff upper lip” which means keeping themselves from showing emotion. The masses of people in England just feel cold to me. In the US, let’s say I see a cute baby. I wouldn’t hesitate to look at the baby, say awwh, and engage in conversation with the mother. Here, if I were to do that, chances are the mother would be outraged and probably run away with her kid in the stroller (they call them buggies here). My point is this: maybe it’s a bit stereotypical, yes, but a lot of people in the UK keep to themselves and self deprecate themselves. I much more enjoy the overall energy that Americans give off. Once again, I stress that this is strictly my opinion and that I know plenty of  English people who are outgoing, kind and I can call my friends. Now that I’ve explained myself, onto the blog!

Today we did laundry. We specifically did nothing today besides laundry. Oh and we finished The Usual Suspects (1995). I’d never seen it and nor had Ollie so we gave it a go. I love Kevin Spacey, so I’ll watch anything with him in it. The film was terrific. It’s noteworthy to mention that I’m a masters student in film, so watching films and TV shows is one of my favorite things in the entire world. Anyways, while finishing the film we got a knock on our door and a man was there with a giant package for me. It was really heavy, too.  I open it and it was my Christmas presents from my sisters and my brother in law. It was so sweet of them. They got me a Crock Pot (slow cooker) and a bathroom scale. I’ve never owned a slow cooker, but I’ve always wanted one. I do feel the need to also mention the gift wrapping from Amazon was very nice. So festive. Anyways, let’s move onto my story about Saturday, the focus of this blog post. The day we travelled from London to Wales:

Saturday was not fun at all. Ollie and I woke up early in the hotel and set off for the train station. We took the London Overground in Watford to London Euston station, took a Virgin train (Yes, like Virgin Mobile) to Birmingham (which took 2.5 hours due to construction) and then took an Arriva train from Birmingham, England to Aberystwyth, Wales. The last train from England to Wales took 3.5 hours. It’s safe to say by the time we got to the train station in our town we were pooped.

To save money, we walked from the train station to our apartment, which includes a slight incline. We live at the top of the main street in town, which in this country is known as the high street. On our way up, a woman approached me. She wanted me to take a photo of her and her boyfriend. Sure thing, I said! She handed me a disposable camera. I felt nostalgia radiate my entire body. Man, those were the days! You had to wind up the little wheel or else the camera button wouldn’t click. I felt like an idiot when I didn’t wind it all the way, and I tried to take the photo. “Oops, gotta wind it more!” I said, feeling like an idiot. I’ve done this hundreds of times, but I’m a bit out of practice. The rest of the walk home Ollie and I spoke about how our kids’ generation (hypothetical kids) would have no idea what a disposable camera is or how they worked. We got to our building and Ollie lugged our very big suitcase up the stairs and we open the door and were delighted (not at all) to see that we were out of power.

Nothing interesting happened in our travels, except for when we boarded the final train. The train stops at its second stop, we wait for people to get on and they flood the train. We’re at a table seat that sits four people, so the two seats across from the table were open. A man sits down and shortly after, a woman sits next to him. The woman has a father figure with her, and he’s stood next to her. The man originally sat in the seat across from us tells them that he’s getting off the train soon, and they could have his seat. They all begin talking and it’s clear that the woman had some sort of autism. She looked at me and commented on my iPhone case saying she loved butterflies. I thanked her for the compliment, and the man sat at the table continued conversing with the woman and her father figure. I’m not sure what their relationship is, but he seemed to be almost like a stepdad.

I’m trying to be very sensitive here, because I don’t want to offend anyone, nor do I want to. This woman on the train clearly had severe autism. Conversations beyond menial topics were not an option. I didn’t stare at the woman, I minded my own business because I figured that her and her friend probably get stares a lot because as humans we are very curious.

Finally, the single man gets off the train, leaving the seats for her and her father figure to occupy. She snaps out of it like she was acting and starts talking to the man she boarded the train with about her iPad and how she was just “so chuffed “ about the 100 pounds she saved on her new handbag. Her accent even changed. I mean, just moments before this she was talking with only one or two words per sentence. Suddenly the man next to her wasn’t actually a father figure, it was her much older partner. A man with white, balding hair and significant wrinkles, clearly this man was at least 55.

I was absolutely shocked. I pulled out my phone and texted Ollie, who was sat next to me, as well as my friend Jilly, about what the hell just happened. What did I just witness? Did that woman just pretend to be autistic for a seat on a train? Or for a laugh? For fun? Did this woman think mocking people like that was acceptable?

Throughout the train ride, the woman who was pretending kept swearing over and over, dropping f bombs despite being in public. Apparently she had wasted 18 hours playing some game on her iPad and she lost 20 trophies in one game. I’ve come to believe she was playing the iOS app “Clash of the Clans.” I’ve never played it, but she herself had said that she planned to play it for 6 hours straight when she returned to her home, sleep for 8 hours, and then play another 6. I guess if I invested that much time into a game I would have also been raging, but I don’t think I’d do it in public. I can’t deny my World of Warcraft years, I wasted hours and hours of my life on that game in high school. Luckily I stopped playing (for the most part) in college, but I came back to it a couple times, a mistress that was quite comforting at times.

Let me fast forward again. We open the door to our apartment and realize there is no power. My stomach drops. That means that our fridge and freezer were not on. Although nothing was in the fridge but condiments, the freezer was pretty packed with food. Strawberry ice cream, a frozen toffee apple pie, frozen chicken breasts, whitefish, and popsicles. We walk into our kitchen and it was like a strawberry swamp. We were exhausted from traveling, but we needed to clean the kitchen.

It wasn’t too bad. I felt really productive after we cleaned the kitchen of the melted strawberry ice cream and orange popsicles-we even cleaned the entire fridge! I had a shower, and while I was showering I thought of an idea. A blog! I loved to write and maybe people would be interested in my life now that it is more interesting than it was. I bit the bullet and here we are.

Thanks for tuning in,

Leah

PS- find me on twitter! @Hummingbird2194

Christmas in England

For my first Christmas away from my family, it was pretty difficult. Not only was I not home for Christmas with my family, but I was in an entirely different country. I'm not a huge fan of England, either. I love Wales, but England is just something else entirely. I know, I know, some of you are rolling your eyes right now. How could I not like England? Bear with me. I thought I would love England until I actually went there. I want to stress again that I do love Wales and I've only been to Wales and England, someday I'd have to visit the other two countries that make up the UK, Scotland and Northern Ireland.

This Christmas Ollie and I stayed in a hotel and commuted to his mother's house for visits. To me, Christmas was so different this year. Can you imagine, being so used to Christmas at your mother's house in snowy Michigan and then suddenly in a hotel in a suburb of London? I know, some of you are thinking 'this girl is crazy, I'd do anything to be in the UK!! It's England how could she not like it?!' However, me moving to the UK has made me realize something very big.


In the past, I'd never consider myself patriotic. People around me, sure. I know lots of people who are die hard Americans. It's not like I didn't like my country, I just didn't express my love for it on a daily basis. Until now. Oh America, how I miss you! I took you for granted! Please, give me another chance? I remember when I first got really home-sick or should I call it country sick, since I missed the US? I told Ollie that if I saw an American I would hug them. Well, here's the problem. I'm so used to hearing American accents that it no longer registers in my brain. Ollie would hear American accents and he'd automatically turn around and go "did you hear her? She's American!" and I'd be confused because I didn't even recognize the girl's accent.

I've come to a conclusion. Maybe before I moved to the UK I was less aware of the world. I mean, you don't just hop on a plane to another country and then your eyes are wide open. I went to Prague when I was 15, and although it was eye opening, I was mostly in awe of the architecture and art, oh and of course the rich history of the Holocaust within the Czech Republic. But it didn't give me that "I love America" feel as much as the UK does. Well, I have to admit- while I was in Prague I hated the food. I remember the last night we were there my mom and I went to McDonalds to hopefully get something relatively American but even their Mickey D's was full of Czech delicacies.

The moral of this story is simply this: don't take what you have for granted. I took the US for granted and yes I can come back and fully appreciate that I was born in such an amazing country and thank my relatives for immigrating to the United States. The UK is a great country as well, but it's no America.

Here's a bonus: a photo of me with the lady M&M

The first tale

So let me start with my backstory. I met Ollie online in 2013. At the time I was working at a stable taking care of horses. We met online and then spoke non-stop on Skype until he came to meet me. London Heathrow all the way to Detroit Metro Airport.

I’m leaving out tons of details, but long story short we moved heaven and earth to be together after doing approximately one year of long distance. He had one year of his undergraduate degree left, so I had a plan. I would go to his same university and get my masters degree in film. I applied and a month letter I received my acceptance letter.

I’ve just finished my first semester of my masters degree. It hasn’t all been smooth sailing, but I like the academic world. My studies aren’t the hard part, actually. I find writing papers and analyzing texts (whether films or books) quite enjoyable. No, what the hardest aspect for me has been the change in culture.

Let me get the big one out of the way first. Food. My god is it different. You know what they call tuna salad here? Tuna mayo. Egg salad? You guessed it, Egg mayo. Oh, here’s another one that I never knew.  On sandwiches here, they spread butter on the bread before putting the meat, cheese, lettuce and tomato. But they don’t call it that. Anything on a sandwich or burger in this country is called “salad” but it’s not the salad we Americans know. 

Now, don’t get me wrong, food isn’t my primary concern when it comes to the British culture. Let’s move on to the kitchen aspect. In Britain, paper towel is known as kitchen paper. That’s not too bad, I can justify that one; it’s technically paper. Come to think of it, we use paper in the bathroom and call it toilet paper. However, let me move on to the stove, which is called a hob here. Again, subtle differences that don’t really impact the culture, more so the dialect. British English is much different than American English.

Now, this difference in culture is less tangible than the previous. The overall vibe that British people give off is extremely different to those Americans do. In America, I can go up to someone if I’m lost and they’d happily point me in the right direction (quite literally), however here you tend not to talk to strangers. However, I just go with the fact that I’m American, and therefore seen as stereotypically outgoing so I can go and ask for directions just fine. However, Ollie does not talk to strangers unless it is the last viable option, even if it means we walk 2 miles getting lost instead of asking someone where the train station is. Yes, I realize that some people say men have a hard time asking for directions.

This next cultural difference kind of irritates me. The drinking culture in this country is on another level than the American drinking culture. Here, people go to someone’s apartment to “pre drink” around 8 PM and then by midnight people are absolutely smashed and they head to one or two bars before finishing the night at a night club. Also, what the Brits call “fancy dress” happens here. Fancy dress is basically Halloween for a night out. It’s perfectly normal here to go as Winnie the Pooh if you’re heading to a pub for drinks with friends.

This one is my favorite because it’s so bizarre. There are more cultural differences, but I wanted to start with a couple to get this blog going. In this country, it’s common for girls, or women to put kisses at the end of a text. Women do that to other women, and sometimes even to guys. Now, as an American coming into this country, I was a bit surprised. I was wondering why the hell my boyfriend kept receiving “x” or “xx” at the end of texts (to represent kisses) from his female friends. In this country it is a must that if you receive kisses from someone in a text or email, etc then you must return the sentiment. If not, the person you’re texting might think you’re mad at them. Discussing this with a professor that’s from London, he was speaking of the kisses phenomenon and if he signed off with an email to our class with kisses, he would be seen as unprofessional, or even lose his job. My friend Jilly argued that she would not have probably seen the kisses at the end of the email due to being exposed to them for so long.

Until next time

 xx (see what I did there?)

Leah