Tourist.

Since coming back from the Canary Islands, it has hit me...

I have less than two weeks left in London.

It's been a crazy ride, that's for sure. But to be honest, I feel like I might actually miss London. It really hasn't been so awful the past couple months, since it's been spring. And, I'll confess, a lot of my problems with London have been my fault. If I feel bored and like there's nothing for me to do, it's because I haven't been forcing myself to do things. Now with only a short time left and a fairly decent list of touristy things I still haven't done, I'm doing things everyday starting today. I spent the day by myself, but it was still a lot better than when I spent it by myself in my room so many days. However, I know that you're a tricky trickster, London. I will not forget how awful you were to me in the winter, despite shaping up in the spring.

It's actually rather embarrassing how many really basic London tourist things I haven't done yet. It's just the whole, "we have five month, we have plenty of time," syndrome, and then you come down to the last few weeks and you wonder what you have done the past four and a half months. I guess I can just read back in this blog to find that out.

So, here is my list of things I needed to do in London:
1. London Aquarium
2. London Eye
3. See a Shakespeare performance at the Globe Theatre
4. Kensington Palace
5. Kew Gardens
6. London Symphony Orchestra
7. Fashion and Textile Museum
8. Changing of the Guard (yeah, embarrassing. I still haven't seen that yet)
9. Attend a service at Westminster Abbey
10. The British Library
11. Hatchard's Bookstore
12. Freud Museum
13. 8 Royal Parks
           Greenwich Park
           Hyde Park
           Kensington Gardens
           St. James Park
           Richmond Park
           Bushy Park
           Regent's Park
           Green Park
14. Attend a service at St. Paul's Cathedral
15. Carnaby Street
16. Tate Britain
17. Brighton
18. Liverpool

So, I'm doing decently well. Today, I crossed off The British Library and attending a service at Westminster Abbey. The British Library was amazing... the amount of books in that place is unreal. They had an exhibit with some really famous and some ancient texts. I saw Jane Austen's notebook, original copies of the Beatles lyrical brainstorming, the Gutenberg Bible, and the Magna Carta. Unfortunately, you need a reading pass to be able to just look through the shelves of books in the reading rooms, but it was an English major's dream.

The service at Westminster Abbey was beautiful. I went to the evensong ceremony, and my gosh, there is a reason that choir is so famous. I was a little surprised at how I was the only one who seemed to be dressed for church, but furthermore how I seemed to be the only one who didn't have to read the Apostle's Creed off the paper. Come on, people. If lightning was to strike anyone in that building, it'd be me. If I have the Apostle's Creed memorized, you should too.

Overall, it was a productive day. Tomorrow is the last day I can see Jordan and Sam though, which is going to be so sad. Saying goodbye is awful!

Tenerife.

I have met my match. That's right, Kate the Conqueror has been conquered. By the sun.

I spent this past week in Tenerife, one of the Canary Islands in Spain (off the coast of Morocco). It's called the Island of Eternal Spring, because it is consistently the same glorious temperature the entire year. Was this trip a cultural experience? By all means, no. We didn't really plan for it to be, we just wanted to get tan and sleep on a beach. While we were there, it was 85 degrees and sunny the whole five days. We stayed at the Parque Santiago III, a resort hotel that we had an apartment for four in. Jordan and I shared a room, and Sam and Mike shared a room. We had our own kitchen, a living room, and a balcony with a table for eating outside. The hotel had several huge, beautiful pools in addition to the turquoise water of the sea. The sand had to be imported in from the Sahara Desert, and palm trees lined the sidewalk. Picturing paradise?

Yeah, well, paradise unleashed a heavy charge of fury upon my skin. Okay, so maybe it was a little cocky for us pasty white kids who have been living in cloudy London for months and haven't seen real sunlight in ages to assume that SPF 10 applied once in the morning would be enough to last us an entire day in the sun with a UV index of +10. And maybe when I felt my skin getting crispy and my organs slowly baking away inside the Crock-pot that is my body I should have said, "Hey, it might be a good idea for me to get a higher SPF, or reapply sunscreen, or put an umbrella up, or do anything other than lie here and ignore it for the sake of how good I will look in white and how toned my stomach will look without a single bit of physical activity after this."

Still, let's stick to what's important: I do look really good in white now, and my stomach does look instantly slimmer. I have also been moisturizing really well, so I only look like I have a severe, rare skin disease on my back from the peeling. And really, it's a small defeat if the only thing I can't conquer is the sun. THE SUN! That's a large place. I'll wave my white flag to the sun.

You'd think for a trip that was five nights long I'd have a lot to say about it. Truth be told, I don't. Every day was beautifully sunny and hot. We went to the beach, we went to the pool, and swam in each. We fried our skin (though by day three I did cave and get SPF 30 and started reapplying often... so be happy, Dad), walked around a lot, and I made dinner every night. We didn't get to climb Teide, the third largest volcano in the world (which is also active), unfortunately. Sam had a different time scheduled, and it turned out to be really expensive to get there and take the cable car up, which you had to do otherwise it'd take 8 hours just to climb down the volcano. The bus also didn't come until after our scheduled time, so we wouldn't make it on time, and therefore would have to stop 400 meters from the top. So lame. Oh well, more beach time.

I also tried absinthe one night with Jordan, and I was a little concerned with how easily the two of us finished that bottle. It really didn't affect us much at all. We stepped it up the next night though with cannabis absinthe, which did it's job slightly more effectively. If I had to describe the taste of absinthe... it's like having a mouthful of black licorice jellybeans and setting them on fire. But, hey... isn't the point of studying abroad trying things that are illegal in your home country?

So, sun, you beat me. I fully accept it though, because you did still give me a really sweet tan. Take that, Londoners. However, it does not make me any less of a conqueror.

Canary Islands: Conquered. 

And you know what? I'm going to get a little conceited and take it a step further...

Spain: Conquered. 

Because true conquerors don't need to go to anywhere in a country other than it's beautiful island beaches to claim the land in their name. 

 Our resort, Parque Santiago III. Highly recommended.

 Our resort.

 Nice pool, right?

The beach! Ah, I miss that water.

 Jordan and I being models.

Sam and I before leaving for the airport.

Update.

So now it's time for a recap of all the wonderful and exciting events that have happened in the life of Kate the past few days!  /sarcasm.

May 3rd- Since my fashion report was due this day, I figured it'd be a good time to start it. It was actually slightly more enjoyable to write than I thought it would be, but I'm sure my opinion of that will change when I get my grade and see she failed me simply because she's an awful person. We had to pick a trend, macro or micro, and pick a high-street retailer and product line it could apply to and pretty much just convince them they should adopt the trend. I did the polka dot trend for J.Crew's business wear line. Yeah, edgy. I used so many visuals and even made a color scheme, so if I don't at least pass this paper, I am journeying back to London to personally kick her ass.

Jordan and I also has a fiasco of a time trying to track down the room where we had to pick up our grades from our presentations. We asked literally everyone that's supposed to know, like reception, the security guard, the admissions office... and nobody knew. Oh, except our PROFESSOR who was IN the admissions office when we were asking, looked at us, and IGNORED US. Our tutor, who was with her, was the one who told us the location... which you would think is reasonable and nice, except that they failed to mention that they have the room locked and we can't get in. We finally tracked her down and got our grades. I knew my grade already, but I wanted to see how she could justify giving me such a low grade when I honestly had one of the best presentations in the class. I have more reason to hate her. She praises me almost the entire time in the comments, but still gives me half the points off! I swear, this school is bonkers.

May 4th- This was the day of the British Heart Foundation's Tower of London 10k I ran with Jordan! There was a party at ISA beforehand, where they brought out a cake and sang happy birthday to me.  Remaining true to our "Hungry Hungry Hippos" team name, we ate two slices of pizza and a piece of chocolate cake... immediately before our race. It actually didn't affect us at all though, and we ran the entire 6.2 miles on terrible knees (me), an injured foot (Jordan), and bellies full of terrible food. I'd call it a success... such a success that we just had to reward ourselves with Krispy Kreme doughnuts afterward.

May 5th- My rewards for the 10k continued as I allowed myself to go shopping. I wanted to find this hot pink dress with bananas on it at Top Shop, and that was my sole intention... but they don't have them in stock yet. Bollocks. That didn't stop me from going insane in the store though, and continuing my path of shopping fury all the way to Zara. In my defense though, everything I bought is for my internship in Milan. Although I know I'm just an intern, not an executive, Stacy London always says you should dress for the job you want, not the job you have. I know they won't expect me to wear a suit everyday, but I still should look professional and not show up in jeans and sneakers. I barely had any work appropriate clothes here, minus two skirts and two shirts, which didn't even really match with each other. Now, with the purchase of three tops and two skirts, I have 12 outfits I can wear to work. Now that's smart shopping!

May 6th- When was this, yesterday? Oh, alright. Well, I had planned to have a football game (European football, or soccer for all you uncultured American friend-heathens back home... see College Humor's "How to Go Abroad and Come Back an A-hole" article), but my phone has now decided to not accept incoming calls anymore. Since I have no credit on my phone to call or text anyone, meeting up with people was slightly more than difficult. I eventually found Kentucky, and we eventually met up with Mike, so the three of us just hung around Regent's Park, kicking the ball between us and relaxing. We went back to change, and then we went out shopping (but I didn't buy anything!) so Mike could get a swimsuit. Then we were starving, so we got some cheap Thai food, and called it a night... until Mike messaged me around 11:30 saying he wanted chips (English chips, so French fries for you uncultured American friend-heathens) which in turn made me want chips, so we made a chip run together. Productive day.

So now today, I was going to go to the Fashion and Textile Museum finally, but on the website it says it's temporarily closed until May 19th. Seems silly, but whatever. So I'll do that later this month. No idea what I'm going to do today now though... it's not a super sunny day, so I'm going to scratch a park option. I guess I'll look at my list and figure something out.

Oh, and in case you're not counting down like me (which I can't understand why you wouldn't be), I go to the Canary Islands in three days now!

 After running our 10k, pre-doughnuts.

Jumbled.

I've been doing some thinking (which is always dangerous), and I've decided to not go home this month. While I want nothing more than to be home, I want it to be permanent, and making it temporary is only going to upset me more. Every time I had a visitor out here, I became even more unhappy when they left than I was before I saw them. I really hate complaining about this, because I don't want to make anyone feel like I wish they never came to visit me, but it definitely made things a lot harder on me. Saying goodbye is tough enough the first time; it doesn't get easier the second time around. By going home, I'd be doing the same exact thing but in reverse. It's not worth it to spend all the extra money and lose out on the time I paid to be here just to potentially make myself even more miserable. So, I'm sticking it out.

I have a list of things I still wanted to do in London. It really isn't that long, but I could always find other things to add to it to try to fill up this next month. That just means more museums. If I can try to keep busy, hopefully the time will go faster and I can get over to Milan.

So, my Facebook has been packed with announcements about Osama Bin Laden being killed. First of all, let me mourn for the fact that I have no idea what's going on in the world anymore unless it's posted as a Facebook status. Politics are a dirty topic, but it's on my mind. Osama Bin Laden was an evil man. He killed thousands of people, and may potentially be one of the worst people to live since Hitler. I may be ignorant in this subject, because not only am I politically uninvolved in the war but I have also been lucky enough to have never had this war personally affect me, since I did not lose anyone in the 9/11 attacks and am not close with anyone that has gone to fight. However, I feel my heart sink and my soul get heavy when I hear about all these people celebrating. How could somebody celebrate the death of another human being? It evokes a vicious, primitive image of cavemen ripping a person apart and dancing around a fire. We are not savages. We are better than that. We have supposedly evolved from this. Can't we control our animalistic instincts to kill?

As Martin Luther King, Jr., said, "Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that." We are not ending terrorism by killing one man. This is not the end. People are going to retaliate, we're going to fight back, and this vicious cycle of hate and killing will never end so long as people are still driven by the disgusting, human instinct to protect oneself and destroy anything that threatens our norms. 

I'm not saying people should be mourning his death. Again, he was an evil man. But an eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind... even if he blinded way more people himself. I'm in a really weird mood today thinking about this. It bothers me a lot... because while I really believe everything I have said, I'm still relieved that he's dead. I think my relief bothers me. There is a difference between closure and celebration though. The people who have been affected by Osama Bin Laden's actions should have a feeling of closure from this, a sigh of relief. They should take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and calmly rejoice that it is over. Celebrating sickens me.

However, I go back again to when I compared him to Hitler. I can't say that if I lived back then I wouldn't rejoice for the death of Hitler. Even just looking back at history, I'm glad that bastard killed himself. He deserved all of it and more. So why do I feel differently about this?

I think I'm just in a weird mood about it because I can't entirely pinpoint my feelings about it. I don't like not knowing. It also doesn't help that Jim left today, so I'm again feeling that "Everyone is gone, I am alone, and I'm unhappy," feeling I get every time a visit ends. It also doesn't help that I have a fashion report due tomorrow, and that I decided last minute today to not book my flight home. Too much is going on in my mind right now, I'm getting all jumbled. I shouldn't allow myself time to think about things, it really is too dangerous.

Wedding.

This was the moment. The moment all of us study abroad students, all citizens of London, of England, of the United Kingdom, and of the world have been waiting for.

The Royal Wedding.

The day that Prince William and Kate Middleton take their vows, while every girl simultaneously weeps over the loss of William's availability and observes Harry's, and while every guy simultaneously weeps over the loss of Kate's availability and observes Pippa's. Over a million people turned out in London for the wedding, while over two billion watched on the television. The streets by Buckingham Palace, in front of Westminster Abbey, Trafalgar Square, and Hyde Park were packed with wedding enthusiasts. People camped out for days, only to have the royal family briefly drive past them for five seconds of glory. Worth it? I'm sure it was. I wanted to camp out too, until I saw that everyone in the world was camping out already.

Jim, my friends, and I headed out to Hyde Park around 7:00 in the morning to pick our station. They had three jumbo-trons set up, and we were fairly close to the middle one. There were about a dozen food stands and even a Ferris wheel set up for the occasion. This was definitely the better choice than packing the streets in front of the procession because we actually got to see everything... and it was absolutely stunning.

Seriously, what a beautiful ceremony. Kate looked positively gorgeous (and seriously, did anybody not love her fabulous Alexander McQueen dress?!), and William looked so happy. They really just look like they truly love each other. We all had a fantastic time watching the wedding together, dancing in the park for hours afterward, and feeling truly British.

But none of this is important. What is important is that I am now famous.

That's right. I'm famous.

You may think this is a joke. It's not. I made a sign that read, "Hey, William, you picked the wrong Kate Elizabeth," and everyone just loved it. I think it's because not many people made signs like I thought they would... a lot of people dressed up, but not many signs. I am not exaggerating when I say over a hundred people took my picture at the wedding, and that's just all the ones I saw and posed for. Well, it turns out that one of those hundred people works for the Daily Mail, one of the absolute biggest newspapers in the UK... and I have a solo picture of me in the newspaper for the wedding coverage.

If you haven't seen the million Facebook posts about it, check it out.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1381820/Royal-Wedding-route-A-MILLION-turn-celebrate-Kate-Middleton-Prince-William.html
Scroll all the way to the bottom. Fantastic, right?

The only problem is that Jim and I apparently aren't the only people who thought newspapers would make a great souvenir of the wedding. We walked all around central yesterday trying to find a newspaper, ANY newspaper, to no avail. I asked a man where he got all of his, since he was carrying a few, and he was nice enough to give me one... but this was the royal wedding special of the Evening Standard. That's awesome, because I love the Standard, but I want the one with me in it too! I emailed the editor, told him I was the girl in the paper, and asked if he could send me a few copies. I even took a picture of me in my flat with the sign, so he knew I was really me. He hasn't replied yet, but I'll be really upset if I can't get at least one copy of this paper. What's the point of having your 15 minutes of fame if you don't have physical evidence of it?

So, while I was hoping Prince William would see that sign and leave the wedding to come running to me, I guess the least he could do instead is hook me up with Harry instead, right? 

I know the royal wedding isn't a place, but with my new found fame due to the wedding, I think it's appropriate to say... Royal Wedding: Conquered. 

 With some William and Kate lookalikes.

 The picture of me that was published in the Daily Mail.

The crowd shot at Hyde Park. You can see my white sign on the right, and Jim is the black jacket a little bit to the left of that.

Chapter.

A few things in my life have shifted around recently.

If you follow my blog properly, you would know that I wanted to do the Tom's Shoes internship but decided to keep up with the fashion club next year instead of graduating a semester early to do the internship in the Spring. However, I recently just lost the fashion club election. Now, bear in mind that this is my blog and I will report on anything I feel or think with little to no consideration for the reactions of others. The fact that I lost this election is complete and utter bullshit, for lack of a better term. The amount of work I did for the club last semester and every year prior since the clubs beginning is insurmountable. I was away this semester, and I blame my loss on the old, "Out of sight, out of mind" phrase. I lost to an opponent that I personally deem far less deserving of the presidency.

But that isn't the point. I don't like to dwell on things, much less complain about them, so I tend to get over things fairly quickly. I was upset that night, went to sleep very angry, and was even still a little upset the next day... but that was it. There is no point in getting emotional over something that I cannot change.

I am a strong believer that everything happens for a reason. So many occurrences in my life have proved that over and over again. I had a really tough time a few weeks ago thinking about my future and having to choose between early graduation with the Tom's internship, or remaining loyal to the fashion club and taking my term as president. I chose the fashion club. Apparently, fate thought I made the wrong choice on my own, so they corrected it for me. The fact that I seemingly had the election in the bag until just a few days before the elections when the other nomination was submitted and then I lost just says to me, "Hey. This wasn't meant for you. You're meant for something far greater." And I'm okay with that.

Everything is okay. I'm studying in London, I have an internship in Milan for the summer, plus I was hired to write for collegefashionista.com this summer from Milan as another internship (yay!), I now have just one more semester at Montclair, and then I'm off to do better things. My life is lined up pretty well. Hopefully I am going to do the Tom's internship in the spring... but I know that if I don't, that's also for a reason.

I've also been looking at coming home for a little bit before Milan. My time in London has been bittersweet, but mostly bitter. I have tried my best to make the most of it all, and I believe I've done pretty well. However, I cannot try to fight the fact that I don't like London anymore. My mind isn't ready for Milan right now. I really am so excited to do my internship in Milan, but I want to go into it with a fresh mind. I believe this can only be achieved by giving myself a rest-- giving myself time in a place where I am truly happy. I'm done in London: I have my last paper due in a couple days, and that's it. The only thing keeping me here is doing more things in London, but I've done most of everything I want to do before I leave. With enough dedication to get out of here, I can easily finish my list off in the next ten days, go to the Canary Islands from the 10th-15th, and head back to New Jersey from the 16th-29th before going to Milan. I always held the belief that going home would be like quitting... and in a way, it is. I don't quit... but I'd rather quit a miserable experience to have a really positive new experience after than go into a new experience with the old experience's sour attitude. I'm looking into flights, and I will update when something is decided.

There are so many opportunities for new chapters in peoples lives. You just have to recognize when they start and be ready to finish the old one.

Cork.

Jim had a very brief tour of London before we were off the next day for Cork, Ireland!

We left on Easter Sunday and came back this morning. The morning started out hilarious: at the bus stop, we met these three guys who offered us cheese fries and asked if we had any cocaine to sell them. It wasn't until we got to the airport that Jim asked me, "...so who were those guys?" and realized that I did not know them either. Our luck of meeting people continued upon arrival in Cork. We spent the first few hours at the Bru Bar, in our hostel, talking to these two Irish men named Frosty and Nigel. They told me the adorable story of how they met their wives, tried to arrange a marriage between their friend Frank who came by and I, and kept buying us beer. The only sour moment in this meeting was when they turned the music on for us to all dance and Frosty got a little ahead of himself: he picked me up, realized he was a little drunk, and fell backwards into the bar. I have a couple sweet bruises from it.

This hostel was the absolute best for meeting people. We made so many friends, like Auntie Mike (a Kiwi who is applying to be the pub drunk), Katrina (the adorable Kiwi bartender who always danced with me), Franziska and Sven (the German brother and sister who made Auntie Mike so emotional when they left), Mike (the New Jersey hating Oxford man), Craig Judge (the quick-witted Kiwi always on the uptake with dirty jokes), Leanne and Simon (the married couple who used to live, but still work, at the hostel), and Ash (another Kiwi bartender who challenged me to flip over 21 coasters in a stack and catch them at once, not expecting me to win). Besides for one jerk the first night getting mad at me for pulling Katrina away from his creepy dancing, everyone we encountered in Ireland was awesome.

What was really cool is that I got to spend my 21st birthday in Ireland... but what was even cooler was that I got to celebrate Anzac Day! I have always seen Anzac Day on calendars on my birthday but I never really knew what it was. Since it is an Australian and New Zealand holiday, and our hostel was all full of Kiwis (what the New Zealanders call themselves), I finally got to celebrate the holiday with a barbecue and beer. Simon was the grill-master of the barbecue, grilling up delicious sausages... and this is where the challenges began.

My birthday challenges.

It started out with the bunny ears. Auntie Mike said he had a present for me, and came down with a pair of fuzzy pink light up bunny ears and said I had to wear them all night. Well, fine. I'll rock the bunny ears. Then Simon yells, "Hey, Kate! I have a challenge for you!" and points to a 2 foot long sausage on the grill. Everyone starts laughing, like, "There's no way this girl could eat all that."

This girl did eat all that. I ate a two foot sausage... and this was just the beginning.

The bunny ears are nothing, and I dominated that barbecue... so why stop? Katrina, Leanne, Craig, and Auntie Mike then dedicated themselves to coming up with 21 challenges/funny things for me to do before midnight on my birthday. Some of these challenges were embarrassing, like singing "Happy Birthday" to myself in front of a crowd like Marilyn Monroe or getting a girls phone number. Some were just funny and odd, like getting someone to buy me a shot of milk and shadow walking someone down the street. All challenges were completed though, with just a few minutes to spare. It was definitely the best birthday ever.

Jim and I also went up to Blarney for a day and walked all around the Blarney Castle. The property is absolutely beautiful, which was almost spoiled by some jerks who left their garbage all over the ground and I picked it up for them. We climbed all the way to the top of the castle to kiss the famous Blarney Stone. Legend has it if you kiss the stone, you will be blessed with the gift of gab. If you have never seen a picture of how you're supposed to kiss the stone, please look it up to understand this. It was absolutely terrifying. I sit down, and this lovely old man holds me as I lean back to kiss it.

"Oh no, my love, you have to lean back much farther! It's the stone all the way at the bottom!"

Now, I hadn't eaten all day and I was already feeling very panicky and dizzy. Lean back even more? Ah, NOW I'm completely aware that I am sitting over a hole in a ridiculously tall, crumbling castle and leaning back through the hole upside-down with just my poor arm strength on the bars and an old man holding me from my death. If he chose that moment to have a heart attack, I'd fall straight to my death. I kissed the Blarney Stone though, so maybe now I'll be an even smoother talker.

They had a sign post with the difference between "Baloney" and "Blarney," which was pretty hysterical: "Baloney is telling a 50 year old woman she looks like she's 18. Blarney is asking a woman how old she is so you know at what age women are most beautiful." Blarney is laying it on thin enough where everyone loves it, baloney is laying it on thick enough where everyone hates it.

Ireland was absolutely beautiful. Cork is a lovely town, and Blarney was the perfect image of rolling green. It was nice to see green for the first time in a while. Natural green. If I had to sum up Ireland in one word though? Beer.

The conclusion is simple. Ireland: Conquered. Family style. 

 Donning my light up bunny ears and drinking a delicious New Zealand summer ale.

Some friends from the hostel! From left to right: Jim, me, Auntie Mike, Katrina, Franziska, Benjamin, and Sven in the front.