Business as usual... No big deal

Last weekend, I flew to Amsterdam with my beautiful friends from UCL. The flight was super quick.... free wine & chocolate was involved. I was happy. We didn't get to our hotel until about 1:30am (Saturday morning, I guess) because my friends and I were stupid... and possibly said the wrong hotel or possibly got ripped off... so after many many euros too many, we finally arrived at the hotel, which later in the weekend, I found out was about .5 miles from where we initially were. Whooopsss.. Anyway, immediately upon arriving we walked around seeing what the city had to offer and decided that late Friday night/early Saturday morning would be the perfect time to go to the Red Light District.

Walking five minutes from our hotel, we arrived - after passing a million chocolate covered belgian waffle & kebab stands (the food in Amsterdam was incredible) - in the heart of the Red Light District. I was expecting sex shops, strip clubs, erotica galore... and while those existed, I was shocked when I arrived and there were actually women standing in bathing suit-like outfits in windows lit up by red lights trying to seduce the thousands of men [old, young, seedy, foreign, nerdy, etc.] that passed by dancing, shaking, blowing kisses, pointing fingers. If Frederick's of Hollywood mannequins came to life & wanted to put their products to use.. this is probably what it would look like.... only Frederick's would probably be less seedy. It was weird seeing empty windows, knowing what was going on in the back room or behind the drawn curtain. It was equally weird seeing men knock at the door or leave the little "shops" - with looks on their faces that were just business as usual. I couldn't decide if I felt sad for these girls because they were reduced to this type of life or if they were actually practicing the ultimate type of liberation, i.e. they grew up wanting to do this for a living and found a place where it was legal, safe, and also flourishing industry.

The next morning, my friends and I woke up early to experience what this different city had to offer.... and then to explore it. We ate the best scones & jam I've ever had in my entire life at a nearby French bakery.... I cannot get over how delicious the food in this city was. After that, we headed out to hit up the Van Gogh museum & the Heineken Experience.

The city is populated primarily by people, prostitutes, and bikes. No joke.... there are bikes everywhere. One bike garage - which is a multi-level parking garage - held 60,000 bikes. Everyone rode a bike - women with heels, women with children, children themselves, old men, and everyone in between. I think I almost got run over by a bike about 50 times and the bikers are not friendly. If you're in their way - they do not stop. They either ring their bell, yell at you, or just try to barely avoid hitting you to scare you and probably try to teach you a lesson about walking in their way.

So though we ventured to see the Van Gogh museum... our feet were dragging through the beautiful canal-lined streets so we never actually made it there... plus, we heard the lines were outrageously long. Instead we made it to Noordrmarket... a farmer's market that takes place every Saturday. Here, they had the normal stands you would suspect would be at a farmer's market and some things you would never think would be there. For example, at the chocolate stand.. they sold fudge, and peanut brittle, and chunks of belgian chocolate - and chocolate penises of all sizes and variations. White chocolate, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, tiny ones in packs of three, large ones with different types of chocolate, etc. Not to forget about repping the women, the stand also had chocolate boobs of similarly wide variations. We were at this stand for a while because one of my friend's dads is a urologist so he took some time to pick out which chocolate penis would be durable enough to last for him to bring it home at the end of the semester, which was hilarious. While we were there, a woman - who looked like she was at the age to be buying after-school snacks for her kids - came to the stand and casually ordered some chocolate fudge, a large dark chocolate penis, and a medium-sized white chocolate pair of boobs.... no big deal.

And though I ventured to go to the Heineken Experience, I knew my roommate, Colleen!, who's studying in Prague, would coincidentally also be in Amsterdam. So I broke away from my London amigos and began to search for my roommate in the everything-is-legal-and-we-speak-Dutch-city, during which time it started to rain. But don't worry! I found her and we got to spend a few lovely hours enjoying what Amsterdam allowed us to while catching up on our separate lives abroad. It does not actually feel real that we met up in the Netherlands... but it happened and we have a miserable rmfl picture to prove it =] The rest of the night with my UCL friends brought some good memories and new experiences, as well. I realized while I was in Amsterdam that things you would normally do at home with friends you've known & loved for years is not the same as doing those same things in a city you don't know.. where everything is legal.. and the people speak Dutch (even though most also speak English). And that little realization was pretty much the moral of the story of this trip.

The next day we woke up early, grabbed some more of our favorite scones & jam, and headed for the Anne Frank House. While some of us waited on the line, I went to find some souveniers nearby. While I ended up with a little Delft blue wooden shoe-like necklace, I did have the choice to buy Delft blue (you know what it is & just didn't know the name, because that's how I felt before this trip) large penis salt and pepper shakers. Classy, useful, and shocking... I left them behind. It was funny that it was this innocent-looking old lady who was running the souvenier shop that sold these types of items.... it's just business there, it's no big deal.

The Anne Frank House was worth going to for anyone who ever read her diary - and for those who haven't, you really should. It was both cool and eerie to be in the same place where a) I read about in vivid detail in her diary when I was younger and b) you are aware that a Nazi invasion and capture took place. The museum was well-organized and interviews and testimonies of Otto Frank, Anne's father, played throughout some of the rooms in the warehouse and Secret Annex, which is what of course made me cry. Nothing gets me like a father talking about his daughter... who wrote a remarkable piece of literature... at a very young age.... during the Holocaust... who did not survive. Anne's actual diary was encased in the museum so it was very neat to visualize her sitting there with that exact bound paper writing the story of her life.

So I definitely advise people to travel to Amsterdam - it was a beautiful city - similar to Venice with the canals, only the streets were more organized and the canals less smelly. Next time I'm there, I will definitely go to Van Gogh and Heineken, and I will absolutely be renting a bicycle - with a bell.

Back in London, I finally went to Harrods... and returned three days in a row. It is heavenly. Someone has asked, so I'll explain: Harrods is a luxury department store - which is the biggest understatement. Harrods is actually retail heaven. I can't even talk about it in too much detail or knowing me, I'll jump on the tube and be there way too soon for anyone's good. I actually did not have high expectations for Harrods, which is probably why I'm so obsessed with it now because it exceeded anything I could have imagined.

The food halls are like an international farmer's market - for the rich and famous. They have absolutely every type of food there and it's lined up in such a luxurious way. My friends and I got samples of chocolate, Spanish mole, and in the meat department... a butcher stood in the aisle with a leg of cow and cut off pieces of prosciutto that was to die for. Every single designer from around the world was represented many times in different sections of Harrods. But besides designer and luxury everything, Harrods also has entire floors of electronics, bikes (should have went before Amsterdam), toys, wines, pharmaceuticals. In the toy department, my friends & I came across "instant magic snow," which contrary to many false advertisements, it was exactly what it said. You put sand in your hand, poured some water on it, and instantly the sand rose like magic into wet, cold snow... and could stay like that for weeks & then be re-used. I contemplated buying it but decided I'd probably never find a use for instant magic snow.

During this first trip to heaven, my friends & I were standing in the crowded chocolate halls and a man said to me "Excuse me, can we get by?" So of course, I smile and say yes before my friends and I quickly realize that this man is surrounded by security guards. Naturally, we decide to follow him to see why he's important enough to have an entourage and in the process we noticed employees whispering to each other and giving each other the shocked/excited glances that made us realize - along with his Egyptian appearance & our quick search on Google blackberry - that the owner of Harrods had just asked us to get by!! Yep, I pretty much met the creator of Harrods heaven! And by met, I mean almost banged into him. No big deal.

My second trip to Harrods was with Eileen - my friend from H.S. - and her friend from Nottingham. We had met up earlier in the week at Sports Cafe - typical - and I got to meet a bunch of her new English friends, which was fun. We went to lunch in South Kensington and walked over to Harrods - which is when I made the dangerous realization that my Monday night Villanova class is about 15 mins walking from Harrods. I didn't buy anything but a cupcake during this trip.

The next day, after a random 4-hour session of Villanova class in S. Ken., Molly and I - with my new discovery in mind - travelled over to Harrods and made some impulse purchases. Since I've been here, I've been needing to acquire my "London" everything (which I've been made fun of for)... for example, so far I have my London dresses, my London bag, my UK tourist shirt, and the beginnings of my London wardrobe.. and probably other things that I've forgotten. When Molly & I got to Harrods, we somehow ended up in the perfume room and we decided to acquire our London scents. In the process, I opened up a Harrods reward card - for no other reason than to have that beautiful card in my wallet forever as a permanent reminder of that heavenly place in London.

After this third trip to Harrods, my friends & I went to see Breakfast at Tiffany's at the Haymarket Theater in Piccadilly Circus. The play was really good. I have never read the book by Capote... I've just seen the movie - and don't even remember that too well either. However, having read other works by Capote, the play was most likely taken more directly from his novella than from the glamourized Hollywood version of the tale. "Never love a wild thing," was a quote that I picked up from the play... I'm not sure if I agree with it or not but it struck me in some way. We went to my favorite Thai place on Charlotte Street right by my dorm afterwards.

Earlier in the week, I had drinks on Charlotte Street with my cousins! Well, they're actually something like my third cousins twice removed - my grandmother's cousin's children. That extension of the family lives in England and I've met only one of them, Emily, before. I spent a few fun hours with Emily and her brother Ed. We talked about London, culture, music, things I must see, and family members we mutually know or remember. It was really cool/weird to be able to talk about my very own family with these British cousins who I don't know all too well. I had a really good time and I'm thankful they wanted to meet up with me!

And finally, yesterday I traveled to Oxford University with the Villanova program. Oxford is a cool place. When you decide to go to Oxford - which I did not - you're deciding to join a school of traditions from the Medieval times, which is crazy but cool. We coincidentally visited on Matriculation Day which is when the fresher's have ceremonies that induct them into the school. They all wear these cape/gown things that they're also required to wear to take final exams and for formal dinners every Wednesday, as one of my friends told me beacuse I also very coincidentally ran into him - he goes to Villanova but is spending the semester at Oxford - on a random isolated street in Oxford so he hung out for a while.

I thought Oxford was going to be an isolated campus amidst rolling hills - but it was quite a bustling college town - similar to Penn Sate - only much bigger, much more medieval, and even much more British. Yes, there was a Topshop there! We went inside ChristChurch while we were there, which is one of the most famous builidings at Oxford.... a bunch of Harry Potter scenes were filmed there - but regardless, it was gorgeous and still in use by students today. The dining halls were similar to the Pit at Villanova - NOT! They were exactly like the grand dining halls in Harry Potter with long mahogany tables, fine china, candelavres, and portraits of historical people along the high-spanning walls. I would rather eat at the Pit though... for real. I can't imagine going to school at Oxford - it's definitely a different experience than both Villanova and UCL.

I can't help but feel like I'm living the dream here. It's been almost a month and I litrally (fave British word) cannot believe that this is my life. I'm so lucky to be here and be doing all these things - it's absolutely absurd and I love every second of it. This post is a novel and a half.

peace. love. litrallyyy everthing.

or peace. love. tacos. - because I miss Zim Zari!