Water Buffalo Whispering, Charging Llamas, & My latest arm candy Finnegan

 I would be dishonest if I didn’t admit that my Scottish Princess Warrior inner self stuck her little nose in the air at Ireland, assuming that it would never be able to compete with the homeland and its tartans.

…Well sit down warrior princess because Ireland is freakin awesome. Now I’m not saying one is better than the other. Nope. The two cultures and atmospheres of Scotland and Ireland greatly differ.  The common theme of the two is that people are so nice that it physically stuns me each time and the natural beauty of the land often puts me in a state of speechlessness (which we all know doesn’t really happen…ever).

The trip started out with extreme anxiety because everyone in the world was telling all of us that Ryanair airlines would be the end, the sad and extremely reasonably priced end. However I have come to the conclusion that all of you telling us this are a bunch of wimps. Was the ride a bit bumpy here & there? Yes. Did the bright yellow interior of the small plane make me want to vom dot com sometimes? Oh for sure. Were there coupons on my boarding pass and is the entire plane ride essentially one giant commercial? Yeah. But at the end of the day we survived so here you go Ryanair I am endorsing you! Just try not to think about how unprofessional it is that there are coupons on your boarding pass and avoid sitting next to the window over the wing…because I have never exactly seen a plane wing move like that before….

BUT once we got to Ireland we had a grand time filled with delicious food, friendly faces, bipolar weather, and political music.

One of my favorite days is what I called the “Nap Bus with Caretaker Kevin” day.  Kevin was an extremely Irish and soft-spoken man who took us around the breath-taking country side of Ireland on an abnormally warm and comfortable bus. Like a fit caretaker should, Kevo always gave us a time limit at each place and did a head count before hauling ass alongside giant cliffs.

Between our random spurts of REM sleep on a sauna-like bus, Kevo took us to see these!!!

Cliffs of Moher which appeared in Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

Thanks Kev! I enjoyed your political songs about Barrack Obama being Irish or something…or as you like to say “Barrick O’bama.”

                The next day we did the usual and went to a famous castle and explored land that makes me want to physically harm myself just to make sure I’m not dreaming.

I have no friends

                Then something amazing happened…..I learned that I have another talent besides street dance fighting……I AM A WATER BUFFALO WHISPERER!!!

I will always love you, even if this is a long distance relationship

Good with Highland Bulls too

 

      

               He was far away across the pasture casually nom’n on grass and then I summoned him and he did not just come to me but he also let me pet him like a dog. Therefore he is officially my Scottish Warrior Princess animal and possibly future way of travel (there are water buffalos in Scotland too okay, I looked it up).

                So now my two favorite pass times will be wearing my tartan and whispering water buffalos, so yeah make that happen Auburn.

                But did I mention that this animal farm we went to had no rules….I mean no rules as in large animals being inside fenced areas is optional. Yes, this is where the charging llama comes into play. A llama escaped and then charged Anna, Scott, and Marjorie but don’t fret everyone is okay now and the llama jumped the fence again back into its pin like the little freak of nature that it is.

Also, this farm considers really cute puppies to be exotic?

There were also pregnant pigs that I can’t ever un-see and suicidal parrots involved.

RUMLEYS FARM ENDORSEMENT

*only if you are comfortable with large animals escaping and aware that the chances of you getting mauled by an Emu are quite likely*

And we can’t forget my man Finnegan, who was one of the many employees that we named at our bed & breakfast. Finnegan from Bath and I hit it off and he gave me towels and extra tea cups and I didn’t even have to show skin. Another favorite was the boss lady who ran thangs, or who we affectionately referred to as Grandma. When we were departing, Grandma asked me my name and I told her it was EJ and then she said she was going to look my name up on the computer. I’m not sure what this means, but I hope Grandma finds what she’s looking for—whether it’s my lack of criminal record or the fact that EJ is not a real name.
I love you Kevin and Grandma!!

I’ve got a week left over here and knowing that makes me want to jump off the Cliffs of Moher (jokes, don’t panic) or figure out how to make nike shorts out of tartans and quick!!!

But really I am quite sad my time is coming to an end and I want to do so much more than study for this exam tomorrow.  But really if any of you people know must do’s for London that I haven’t done yet and need to get all over ASAP please hit me up. And if one of your suggestions is rugby I sadly found out the season is over and let’s be real….cricket just isn’t violent enough (American probs).

So see you when I see you?....Cheers?

Ew. This is worse than the awkward break up with the plane snogger.

-EJ

Divas, Amputations, & Living on the Edge

Should I begin with my latest awkward bathroom mishap or save that for the end?

 Hmmm…the end it is then.

So this week I was determined to be like all the other classy folks in this Auburn group and go to a show, because that seems to be the only other popular activity amongst the group besides having the refectory blues with Robert Sean Leonard. Yeah, you liked how I casually name dropped there?

Yeah apparently Dead Poet Society and House’s good ole Rob wanted to get his minted lamb on with us. Sadly, my case of the black lung made me a bit indifferent towards his presence and unable to scream: “DON’T DO IT MAN, YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THIS QUESTIONABLE SELECTION OF MEAT!"



Yes Robert, that is indeed a minted lamb burger.



But no, Robert is not the diva I am referencing here. Oh no that title belongs to Sex and the City’s Kim Cattrall who starred in the show I went to see—Sweet Bird of Youth. Don’t worry Kim’s character didn’t stray too far from the beloved Samantha Jones because she too had some Mrs. Robinson tendencies.  After the show was over I waited eagerly to meet Kim but like I said before, somebody is a diva and doesn’t come out between shows, so I had to get my ticket sent to her in order to be autographed all peasant-style. BUT, you know who isn’t a diva….



This guy, aka the leading male role, aka Mr. attractive



Thus, it all worked in the end!

So in honor of one of my final weeks here before Ireland, I didn’t just venture out to a show but to the white cliffs of Dover!!!

In Dover I found myself at home and perhaps this was because the people displayed a great amount of southern hospitality. Who knew I would actually miss manners?

But yes, the people of Dover were wonderfully nice and also quite theatrical. I learned this at the lovely war re-enactment we happened to stumble upon. And I enjoyed it because kilts were involved AND I got to play with historic guns and such.



Our "don't mess with 'merica" faces



KILT DOWN, I REPEAT KILT DOWN!



Did I mention there was also a “live” amputation?



Sorry bout it bro



And then I met this man who is one of my people!!

 I like to call him my Great Great  Grandfather Bilbo. Yes I know that name is from Lord of the Rings, but it makes perfect sense in my head.

And after this tearful reunion with Great Great Grandfather Bilbo, we decided to conquer the white cliffs of Dover.



Cliffs in your backyard, completely casual



Goddess of nature



Just take it for what it is...pure boss

 We almost lost Morgan in the process, but hey every great journey has its causalities
(Hey Morgan).

On the way home, we rode a double decker bus in which we REALLY needed the Jamaican head from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’s advice: “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.” Not joking at all or anything but at one point we sort of plunged into a tree. But the fun part was meeting these two tween girls who were obsessed with Demi Lovato, the Biebs, and Americans in general. Seriously I have never seen someone so excited to be given an American dollar and not because they were poor but because it was something American.

Overall it was a fun time and I would highly recommend Dover to anyone traveling over here.

But what I don’t recommend is frequently using the girls’ bathroom when you are indeed male (you thought I had forgotten the bathroom mishap didn’t you??).  Here at the oh so lovely Regents College of London there is a girls’ floor with a community GIRLS’ bathroom. However this doesn’t make sense to the new guy, who I would like to clarify is American and does speak English so this is not some cultural miscommunication. So of course when I am doing my usual bathroom pre bed routine, the mystery man who has been leaving the seat up finally reveals himself. I am stunned …because this is the girl’s bathroom and he is not a girl and I am not looking presentable.  We brush our teeth in silence and because I am well me….I feel this need to make the guy in our bathroom--who is currently making me feel extremely uncomfortable--more comfortable…..so yeah I make no sense.  I chat him up as if us using the bathroom at the same time is actually normal. To make this even better, turns out this guy sucks and is kind of a huge jerk.

 Cheers to scurrying to the transparent door showers in fear every night!!

Tune in for Ireland…and those of you that have experienced Ryanair airlines….WISH ME LUCK!

 Hopefully it will go better than trying to get a Father's day picture at the famous Beatles Abbey Road crossing at night with oncoming traffic



Do not attempt



Future Mr. EJ Will Wear a Kilt

 My most commonly used phrases for this weekend in Scotland were: “These are my people,” “Power of the Tartan,” “My Homeland,” and last but certainly not least my only impression of a Scottish accent mastered with the phrase from Brave, “Would ye?”

Let’s just say, when I say I’m moving to Scotland…it’s not a joke. THOSE ARE MY PEOPLE.  

To give a full play-by-play of the weekend, the train ride got started off right with a full on mid-potty exposure.....unfortunately at my expense (if you are shocked at this point you obviously haven’t been following the blog chronologically). These trains over here are a bit “futuristic” with their stupid lock buttons that light up and stupid sliding semi-circle automatic door things. So stupid.  Anyway, I was doing my business and then all of sudden the semi-circle door is opening at a painfully slow pace and because this bathroom is futuristic and all with illuminated buttons there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. So I am exposed to an impatient woman, her infant, and an elderly and truly Scottish gentleman wearing one of those old-timey golf hats.  Good times.  

                And back to the magic of Scotland where I am a princess and the sound of bagpipes plays constantly in my head as I conquer mountains and stuff:

              Like this one (the following picture is deceiving because this was not a hill, trust me…this was a freaking mountain)

Or where I have breakfast at the birthplace of Harry Potter—WazzUP 2 MY guRl JK!

 I also found scenes like this that took every ounce of strength I have not to mount the horse and gallop off with my bow & arrow like the Princess Merida that I am (or that I am in my head, either way).

        I also found my family’s tartan, which was a huge huge huge deal to me, and now I have an extremely unhealthy obsession with it (Sorry for the snap chats my peoples).

 

             Of course I adore London and it feels more like home each day, but Scotland was different for me. I felt extremely connected to the culture and the people (well everyone else besides that old fart that wacked Scott with his cane. He doesn’t count), and honestly I was downright jovial the entire weekend. Seriously though-- I was giddy just walking around in the city and national park; I was high off of BAGPIPES AND KILTS AND SEEING SO MANY GINGERS THAT GET SUN BURNED LIKE ME!! By the way kilts are a thing, like real life….it is not a tactic to attract tourists. It appeared that very handsome men wear stylish kilts to work, .....and no judgement but it wasn’t so bad looking.

In order to distract you from continuing to judge me, LOOK IT’S MY TARTAN!!!

....... I know. I have a problem.

The next adventure is Ireland, no blood relation to this one but maybe all the leprechaun references I’ve gotten all my life give me some sort of Irish swag.....right?

Xoxo

ScottishPrincessEJ

Diapers, Fame, & a Little Bit of Strategy

First of all London is a wonderful place and I love it very much, however….the British need to work on a few things:

1.       Can we please split checks? Please—I don’t want to throw down over 22 pounds for a mediocre pizza anymore

2.       Can we calm down the PDA? I’m sorry but I don’t see how the tube, the escalator, THE REFECTORY, or any horizontal surface where pigeons do their business gets you in the mood

3.       Can we work on the labelling of certain feminine products?  I’m not going to elaborate too much, but let’s say I went in for one thing and came out with diapers…. Which lead to the infamous Auburn London group meme:

Other than that things have been just cheery and weird, which is the way I like it. I’ve seen a lot of famous places and such, but you can just Google image all that shazz, so I won’t ramble on about places, but I will go on about all the people (particularly the soon to be famous people that are kind of my friends ….but not really my friends all at the same time)!!

The story goes like this:

This night started out like most nights here, which is me wanting to hit the clubs and dance/look like this

However, this night we never made it to the destination of London’s club XOYO, BUT we did experience…so so so much more.  In the beginning of the evening and on the tube, we were confident in our abilities to find the club and didn’t feel the need to get too involved with the chatty and rambunctious young English males with a guitar case and LMFAOish wardrobes who were all three extremely fascinated by us three American gals. In my personal opinion the cutest one—who looked like Justin Bieber—played twenty questions with us, wanting to know everything about Southern American culture. Of course I got roped into trying out a wimpy excuse of a British accent as Biebs completely owned me with his imitation of southern twang.  After chatting for a while, the boys tell us that they just made it through on Britain’s Got Talent. Of course we roll our eyes at them and jokingly say, “Yeah of course we’ll look up your ‘band’ on YouTube or something…..(not).” Because we all know that potentially famous people never are that excited to meet strangers or excessively friendly right? No. WRONG.

After our night of never making it to XOYO, we looked up “The Luminites”….just out of pure curiosity. Well, we learned they are a pretty big deal, so please watch below:

WHATTTTT!?

The moral of the story is now they have become increasingly popular on the show and even loved by Simon since our encounter, so now I will always cherish the screenshot of the boys replying back to our wall post and the hugs given at the tube station. However the night of never making it to XOYO did not end at the tube ride with the Luminties….oh no, even after their directions to the club failed us we still sought out more help.

Our next destination was outside a random pub where two men were drinking and chatting, who I like to refer to as “Seth Rogen look-a-like” and “Frenchy.”  Seth was a little drunk but God bless his soul he tried to help us find a club he had never even heard of before. Frenchy on the other hand, was a little creepy and had no intention of helping us find the club, but did have full intention of somehow partying with us there. After Frenchy and Seth shared some witty banter about how Frenchy is just as useless in helping us as the French are in warfare, we decided to get on out of there.  It wasn’t soon after witnessing a man get hit by a car then pop up from the ground to put back on his fedora and give the crowd a thumbs up, that we realized we were not in Kansas anymore….or better yet we were no longer in the cushiony area of Regents Park.  

After getting the third degree at a club called “Book Club” (really London...really??), we decided it was time to find out where we were and how on Earth could we find our way back home.  We finally figured out the bus route to take us back to the promise land, but at this bus stop/ride we made a friend we didn’t really want to make. He called himself Andy and he was from “Toronto” (I don’t think he is from Toronto), but let’s call him “meth bro” because I feel like that was more accurate than him being from Toronto. So Meth Bro of course sits with us on the bus and we snuggle 3 to a 2 seater for good reason. But to Meth Bro, my name is GG (which comes from the name Jennifer?? I don’t know, I never said I was good on the spot okay!),my friend Allie’s number started with area code 205 (not at all), and my friend Morgan was Buster –which I came up with by the way. Once Andy was no longer super close to my face anymore, the three of us happily skipped home where there are no Frenchys and near death experiences, but just over sized pigeons and questionable minted lamb burgers served for lunch.

You could say my GG story has been proven to be some quality strategy used thus far in the London nightlife scene, but a different strategy must be used in the future because THE PLANE SNOGGING SAGA CONTINUESSSSS!!!! DONTONDON.  That’s right people—I got the email offering a night for drinks, which because I put up the stop later downgraded to a day of coffee. I am considering the offer because I like coffee and I enjoy some good blogging material, however this would involve serious strategy.  It would have to be done Chasing Liberty style where my Auburn crew would be sitting in the café spread out and entering/existing at different times like the secret service that they all are. Yeah yeah, should I?

But today I did get to soke up the London sun and get burned which I actually enjoyed for the first time ever. I also got to make friends with a non-creepy Englishman and a pug named Lola

My Scotland adventure will begin this coming Friday, so wish me luck on finding my family’s plaid-thingy and well…ya know just in general.

Cheers!

-EJ