Not that I have a countdown going or that I'm overwhelmingly anxious to return to the drab world that is Boca Raton, Florida, but I have approximately 17 days left abroad before I am whisked away to the States only to wonder if all of this has been a mere dream or lucid reality. So as I sit here and stealthily write in my blog while at my internship sipping on the chi-latte I snuck out to get behind my line-manager's back I wonder how exactly it is that I will cope waking up the morning after my flight only to look back at all this and pinch myself. But for now I'll remain in the present, acknowledge that the time to bid farewell has not come and I am in fact still 21 and in London. Hell yes!
This past Easter weekend has been one for the books. It was a four day weekend (Friday was a bank holiday here in the UK) and I pretty much can sum up the entire weekend in one drunken binge. I've become quite the lush-- no questions asked. Now you may thinking to yourself what compels me to "brag" about my drinking binges, but the truth is acknowledging that I infact indulge in the bottle more heavily whilst abroad merely indicates that it is not a problem, but rather a youthful form of entertainment. At least thats what I'll keep telling myself thank you very much.
We ended up playing beer pong (berut as I've come to call it and thereby betraying everything that is Holy at UF) on Thursday night in what I consider an absolute shit fest. It was just me and 3 of my closest mates there (Shane, Andy and Jess) before the workers (that's what the self-proclaimed pot smokers call themselves) came in and joined the fun. I like to think and thereby tell myself that I dominated the table, but if you only saw the conditions in which we play berut you'd understand that the game could be nothing, but an absolute blast. Turns out we got so shitty we forgot to clean the common room, I passed out (because I've given up on actually falling asleep sober anymore) and everyone else seemed to scatter to their respective hybernation places. So, when the morning came and the common room wasn't clean the residence life coordinator didn't fail to reprimand us, lock the common room for the 4 day weekend and threaten to charge us for the mess we had made. Fear not however because my time spent in a crap hole of a fraternity house has taught me that no mess shall be left un-acknowledge and unclean. Of course the thought of possibly getting charged sparked my intensity and immediate willingness to find an alternative to the possibility of taking money away from my discretionary spending, so Shane and I beat the cleaning people to the punch and mopped up the common room and cleaned up after ourselves. The verdict is still pending as to whether any "serious" repercussions will be taken out on the individuals who participated in the anarchy. (F.Y.I. I use complete sarcasm in my recounting of the story because we were honestly treated like 5 year olds for leaving beer cans out and a few spills on the floor. They acted like we had burned the chairs, and glued the rest of the furniture to the roof. Come to think of it-- we probably should have and it would have made the shutting down of the common room all the more worthwhile.)
So aside from the continuous slue(sp) of drinking binges of which includes hitting up Porterhouse that houses beer from all over the world and Shane and I's brilliant plan to try nearly every one in the few weeks that remain....I did get some physical activity and recreation in. Yes-- I played football a.k.a. soccer. Now the interesting thing is my deep-rooted desire to participate in team sports has been buried for a while in fear of ridicule and possible SUCKAGE by myself, which is why I stuck to individual sports because there is no one to blame but yourself when you flub up. But when in Europe any opportunity to play football with 2 Serbians, a Spaniard, an Italian, an Egyptian and the ridiculousness that is the Americans -- one must always seize the opportunity and rise up to the occassion. And to much of my amazement it was as though the Colombian blood within boiled and I in fact did not suck at football (soccer). We played for 2 and half hours out in Regents Park before hunger pangs set in and I nearly passed out from starvation. I hadn't had so much fun playing football-- ever. The last time I had seriously played was back in the 3rd grade when I was part of a rec. league and I wore a green uniform with "Jaguars" printed across the chest. I loved the orange the peels and gatorade after the games and missed the excitement that is slide tackling a forward to prevent the goal. Not that we had orange peels or gatorade at Regent's Park.
The rest of the weekend we discovered Porterhouse and their endless menu neatly divided by country and their best tasting beers all available for my indulgement. Shane and I sat there for a few hours each day trying beers from everywhere, but they aren't the ones you'd normally find in stores so they're not highly commercialized. Hell the place even cracks on American beers for their incompetence to actually brew a good tasting one, but does however acknowledge that they are brilliantly advertised. We couldn't help but try the 11.3% beer called Trappistes Rochefort 10 from I believe it was Belgium. That's 11.3% of goodness in a single 330 ml bottle and yes we got hammered. We also had Maccabee from Isreal, Casablanca from Morocco, Brahama from Brazil, Erdinger from Germany, Moosehead and Honey Brown from Canada and others I forgot to peel the labels off and save.
I also finally got my taste of delicious sushi here in London. Granted I paid a hell of a lot more than I would have every paid in the States (naturally) and I ate a hell of a lot less too, but it was entirely worth it. I was able to introduce the fantastic world of sushi to the Shane-O as well as the scrumptulescentness that is Krispy Kreme (he'd never had either in his life-- I know he must live under a rock). We ate Yo! Sushi just across from Harrods in the Harrods supermarket (fancy that). The concept for this sushi establishment was entirely unique and an idea I may very well steal for a franchise back in the States. You sit at a bar whereby the sushi chefs sit on the other side. However, in between you and the sushi guys are conveyer belts whereby as the sushi chefs make the rolls they place them on different colored plates on the conveyer belts. The different colored plates indicate different price ranges. Now, the difference is that the sushi only comes in 2 bite rolls not the 8 bite rolls like in the States. Also, they don't exactly make all the neatly compacted sushi with the names here either. The cool thing though is that the sushi runs on the conveyer belts all around the bar and new rolls are added continuously so you sit at the bar and wait until something flies by that strikes your fancy and you grab it. I left stuffed, but I also spent a great deal, but lately I've been on this streak of not cooking anymore and simply eating out every day. I've also managed to hit up Starbucks every morning for a cafe misto and a muffin to the point where the baristas remember my face and know exactly what I'm ordering before I even say it. It's one of the many splendors of having a Starbucks every two yards from eachother and just around the corner from your flat. London has the most Starbucks per square mile in the world-- even more than NY. Incredible.
So aside from caffeine fixes, beer binges and sushi stuffings I am becoming cultural and learning to appreciate the arts. I ended up going to see The Crucible last night at Guil Good Theater on Shaftsbury Ave. It's the Arthur Miller play set in Salem, Mass. about the witch hunts, but it's really about the 1950s McCarthy era Communism witch hunts. I wasn't suppose to go to the play, but one of the other classes was going and I really wanted to see it. It was not a disappointment. It was probably top 3 best plays I've seen since being here and the acting was fantastic, the set was amazing and the storyline is really gripping. Yes- I said gripping to describe a play, but it really is an interesting play about manipulation, coercion and gullability. Also, we've managed to convince our Arts in London teacher to take us to see the We Will Rock You play based on the legendary band Queen. It's suppose to be really good and it's only playing in Vegas back in the States.
I feel like I'm ranting, but there is just so much to tell. Alright onto Baseball. So I've been exposed to so many new things while being here and one of them is this drinking game Pete and Shane play back at Southern New Hampshire University called baseball. It is fast becoming my new favorite past time and it's biting the heels of flip cup and berut. The object of the game is very much like quarters (where you bounce a quarter into a cup) the difference is you play on teams, you keep score and you get sloshed. What you do is you get 4 drinking cups of various sizes. Usually it's a shot glass, a regular glass, a pint and then a pitcher. You fill each with varying amounts of beer increasing the quantity depending on the size of the cup, so the pitcher would have the most beer. You line the cups in size order one in front of the other single file with an even amount of space in between each. The objective is just like baseball you need to get as many runs as possible in 9 innings. Each player gets a shot to bounce quarter into one of the 4 cups. Each miss is an out and you get 3 outs before you turn the quarter over to the other team. The runs work as such. If you make it into the shot glass that's a runner on 1st, the glass you get the runner on 2nd, the pint you get a runner to 3rd and in the pitcher it's a home run. Now if you get a runner on 2nd, and then make it into the shot glass the runner pushes to 3rd and so on. So when you make into one of the cups the other team has to drink. Therefore if you sit there and make it into the pitcher for a home run the other team is drinking the contents of all the cups (the shot glass, the cup, the pint and the pitcher) all in one sitting. You will get hammered in this game.
This pretty much concludes my endless schpeel of my Easter weekend.
You will undoubtedly get an update next week upon my return from Paris, France where I'll be spending this weekend. How cool does that sound?
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