OXFORD, FORSERIOUS

So after doing everything else I could think of doing today, I'm finally ready to undertake the task of updating this blog. I've never been particularly good at consistantly contributing to a project of my own undertaking, but I'm determined to change. This is in part because I have humerous anecdotes I've held off recounting because of vaguely related accompanying photos I pledged I'd put up. "They'll make the stories that much better", I'd say, stalling wildly, while "I'd rather stare out the window drinking juice out of a wineglass and thinking about turtles" is more along the lines of reality. But I digress.

This is my flat:

I'm on the top floor, because I'm awesome like that. I figured picking the highest room in the house would make me feel like some sort of baron, or a tortured writer on the verge of a breakthrough, pacing across the wooden floorboards deep into the night. In reality, it makes me a recluse. This is enhanced by the fact that I bought a robe for 6 pounds that's exactly the sort of robe a crazy cat lady would wear with her old slippers while making a run down to the Wal-Mart to pick up some Fancy Feast for Mr. Muffinshire and Lady Truffles, her twin calicos getting on in age and developing dietary problems such that they can only eat the salmon flavor, and she had just run out.

If this were true, this is the view Mr. Muffinshire and Lady Truffles would see if they perched on the windowsill and looked out onto the street.

Freedom unicorn guards my instant coffee.


I don't know if you can see it in the photo, but it's Fairtrade coffee. A lot of things are fairtrade here, which means I feel better about my rampant coffee consumption. Every time I'd go into Dunkin Donuts in America, I could hear the far-off weeping of small third world children. It never really bothered me, but let me tell you, I don't miss it.

The good thing about instant coffee is that you can eat it out of the jar. I can’t believe I only just realized this, and that I haven’t tried it yet. I’m going to try it right now.

…

I have to say, this is amazing.

A whole world of possibility has just been opened to me. I can put it over frozen yogurt, or sprinkle some on my Special K in the morning. How sick and efficient would that be? So efficient. Marvelously so. I can’t believe I’ve been wasting all this time boiling water.

Well, this study abroad opportunity is all about life-changing discoveries.

Speaking of Special K, I'm both pleased and sorry to report that the Special K Red Berries in England is leagues better than the American version. Special K Red Berries actually has three kinds of berries in it, strawberries, cherries, and raspberries. The American version has only strawberries, as well as inferior sugary flakes. I can't believe I ate something like twenty five to thirty boxes of the lame American Special K when this other Special K was in existence. So much stomach room and chewing ability wasted.

I can just imagine what would happen if the American Special K and the English Special K met eachother. The English Special K would poke fun at the American Special K's inadequacies, and
the American Special K would go write about it in its emo Special K diary of thoughts and feelings. The room is lit by a single desk lamp, purchased at Ikea on a shopping trip alone. Simple Plan is playing in the background. There's a heaviness in American Special K's crinkly heart. He sighs, which sounds more like a rustling, as he's comprised of wheat, rice, and sugar.



I'm sorry American Special K, but this is an exciting time for me right now. Don't worry though, as long as you're on sale for 3.50 at Wal-Mart, I'll be back for you. Always.

Moving on,

This is one of my flatmates, Bella. She is excellent, and eating a grilled cheese sandwich made in our sandwich maker, which is also excellent. She is hardcore and a daily source of awesomeness, as I was reminded of whilst taking this picture.



Mad gangsta.

Love & miss you all,

-Allison, both wayward and whimsical