October 2012

It's October 30th, and apparently, my time is up.
Yes guys, I was given a deadline to find a boy here in America by my friend Laura and October 30th was my deadline. Failed. Drastically.
It all started because she met her boyfriend in i-House on October 30th and now they have had a long distance relationship for just about two years (January 4th marks the special day and yes, I have a good memory for dates). Therefore, we made it into a joke that if I met anyone special on October 30th then they would be the special person who would later become the love of my life or I had to make a move on someone I liked by October 30th otherwise I was doomed.

Looks like I am doomed.

My other friends in my apartment, meanwhile, have a three week rule. You can like someone for three weeks and if you haven't got the guts to make a move during those three weeks then you give them up and move on.

What madness is this! I am used to have crushes on guys for five years and progressively talking to them less and less so as to make sure they definitely don't have a clue I fancy them (certainly not a dating tip, why? Because it doesn't work).

I find this is all very amusing. Americans love to play Cupid. Literally all the time. As do the Spanish. I am living among people who love to set me up with people. Usually the most inappropriate people I can think of but ah, it's nice to know they care. Also they love to just tease you about any boys name you mention. Literally every male name means they will raise their eyebrows and go 'ooooOOooo" or the Spanish girls go 'aaaaAAaaaaa'

However, my American friends have warned me that finding someone at UCSD is very hard because you start to develop Triton Eye after awhile. I will explain that term in a later post.

Highly amusing.
But alas, my time is up. Oh well....as my friend Betty and I continue to joke "next year, next year will be my year."

This previous weekend UCSD was playing host to the parents of their students.

It was Parent Weekend.

And that meant that all the people who hadn't jetted off to Santa Barbara for a proper party weekend were walking around UCSD with their families in tow and a dog or two following behind (or being carried which seemed to be a very common occurrence).

I haven't felt homesick yet but for some reason this weekend I felt it creep up on me. I saw people' parents enjoying the wonderful 'food' at Cafe V (which we all agreed had got nicer and a lot larger than normal - we weren't going to complain, they can try and impress the parents all they like) and I wanted to desperately show off my campus to my Mum and Dad. And Becky.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't weeping in my room or clinging onto old photographs but I just felt slightly nostalgic. I walked to the nearby shopping centre which my Dad had stayed near when he had come to drop me off, and I couldn't believe how different it felt now. Walking around with my Dad I had just been following him, not paying attention to anything, and not really thinking I'd see the complex again. Now, I know it is the closest shopping centre to UCSD, I know what buses to take if I want to be lazy and get the bus there, and I know exactly where everything is. It was also so weird to think that it was still 27 degrees celsius and it was nearly Halloween!

I did ring my Mum at one point to tell her how I was doing but it was 9.50pm on a Saturday evening...she was in bed. To be fair to her, Becky and her had a flight the next day to Florence which meant they had to get up at 2.30am to go to the airport but I remember a time very distinctively when my Mum swore, no matter what, on any school trips of hers she would never stoop to taking early early morning flights just because it worked out cheaper. Hmmmmm.....remember that Mum? Hence why I thought ringing you at 9.50pm the night before would be ok! I guess I should stick to the 'no calls after nine' rule even in America but even if I had rung at 8.50, I know Mum would have been in bed.

I also received an amazing letter from my second Mum, Cyndy. I can't believe she managed to find out my address! She is amazing. The letter made me tear up and I felt a huge longing to be back at St Margarets. There seems to be so much going on there now and I want to be a part of it! I love that place with all my heart!

As for my wacky friends, of course I miss you guys too. I talk about you all the time in my little anecdotes about England and I regularly stalk you on Facebook :) So don't worry I am keeping my eye on you.

x

I'm very grey.
Really grey.
No, I don't mean I'm ill I mean I'm grey.
I literally have got it everywhere. Even on the laptop keyboard right now. I've jumped in the shower and tried to wash it off but no.....
Still pretty grey....
Did you guess what I was dressing up as?
I was the weeping angel from Doctor Who! I looked slightly more like the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz but it was still fun! And I have to do it again this Wednesday!
Now this is going to be a very short post because I have to do a lot of cleaning before my friends wake up...

Horror movies....

Yeah, I have never been a fan. I love being scared from scary theme park rides or trying something new but horror movies? Yeah I have always been scared of horror movies; I have such a large imagination that any kind of horror movie has messed with my head and made me unable to sleep for weeks. The first one I watched was when I was thirteen at my friend Laura's house. It was called 'Valentine', about a boy seeking revenge upon all the girls who rejected him for the Valentines Day Dance. I was terrified of it. I could barely sleep that night. And since then I knew I hated scary movies.

The next bad experience I have had with any scary was 'The Woman In Black' on stage. I had to watch it three times for my Drama GCSE. If you ever get the chance to see it, see it. I would recommend it just because it is such a different experience to be absolutely terrified by something on stage. The acting is superb and concept is terrifying. I won't ruin it for you but at the end of it, I was in tears, shaking and couldn't sleep. Everyone says it haunts them when they see it. The second time I saw it I found it far less terrifying...I had my hands over my ears and my eyes closed. Yeah, I preferred it the second time.

I have many problems with horror movies. I hate the fact that people can actually create such monsters, such stories and such gruesome details within a story. Why do they have to do this? Why do they create such things? What makes them think it is a great idea? Furthermore, why does every film module I take them focus upon them. Film lecturers love scary movies. They analyse the camera work, the editing and the use of soundtrack and, Yes, I agree sometimes these things are extremely interesting and high quality as they create such an atmosphere of suspense and horror. But most of the time, I really don't want to admire such films.

Well tonight, I let peer pressure get to me. My friend Laura convinced me to go and see a horror movie after I finished my midterm paper. I kept refusing all day, saying I wouldn't go because I hated scary movies but after many lovely and convincing texts, and an offer of free fruit snacks, I agreed to go. Why? Why? I sit here in my bedroom with the light on at half twelve at night having only had limited sleep all week due to midterms asking myself over and over WHY DID I GO AND SEE PARANORMAL ACTIVITY FOUR! Laura said she was proud I faced my fear. I replied that I wasn't because it has just confirmed my previous belief that I do truly HATE SCARY MOVIES!

I didn't even understand the movie as I haven't seen any of the other movies and I had my head buried into my knees nearly the whole time....


On that note, another clue for Halloween??

My crazy friends :D Pimps n Hoes Party Oct 18th 2012

One thing I have definitely discovered about America is that everyone is so so nice. Ok, of course, there are some douchebags out there (as there are in any culture) but for the majority of the time, they are lovely!

In England, if you walk pass someone you vaguely know, quite often it is the norm to start looking at the ceiling, playing with your phone, pretend to look in totally the opposite direction, just so you can carry your walk on in peace and don't have to stop and make awkward small talk. Here, people coming running up to you, stop to say hi and a few lines and then make their excuses and leave (they are walking past you remember - they are meant to be going somewhere). For example, the other day I left my history class and heard someone calling my name. I look around a bit but thought someone must be calling someone else until the said person came right up to my face to repeat my name. It was my surf instructor, who had only really met me the day before, and he just came up said hello and then went to the lecture he was aiming to go to. It's just little things like that that makes this place so lovely.

Another example is the yoga lessons I have just taken up. In England, I once took a class in Warwick which was like pilates on a ball. I was rubbish. My flexibility is poor and I wasn't very good at all. Whereas here, in America, I had the same problems with my flexibility in yoga and the fact I had never done it before and the instructors are lovely. They don't make you feel stupid and embarrassed. They help you, they are friendly and enthuiastic. It is brilliant.

And finally spontaneous hellos. In England, if someone starts to talk to you on the tube or in a cafe, you feel annoyed by it and start thinking that their slightly odd. In America, it is totally normal. I have had people start random conversations as I wait for tea, whilst I queue for groceries or when I'm buying massive Sherlock posters (had to be done I'm afraid). It's just so nice that everyone seems to want to connect with one another.


SIDENOTE - Halloween is coming up and it is a big thing for Americans. I am going to give you a clue as to what Im dressing up in nearly every post. Try and guess :P

What I have slowly began to discover about my American friends here at I-House is that they are extremely open. More open than I think I have ever seen a person be in my LIFE before. My friends back at home would always find it highly amusing to talk about rather embarrassing topics whilst I cringed in the corner (I am known as the baby of the group). However, they are innocent, INNOCENT, compared to Americans (or the Americans I have met anyway).

Despite almost dying during yesterday's dinner conversation and demonstration (yeah, don't ask, it's already etched deep enough into my memory thank you) I find it surprisingly refreshing. There is no embarrassment, no judging and you feel as if that person completely trusts and likes you if they are willing enough to share their most private memories and experiences with you. It's also quite nice to know that if you ever have something to get off your chest or are curious about that you can easily go to someone and talk about such things because they are so not embarrassed by it all. They love to share. It feels like proper friendship. The phrase 'that's just too much information' really doesn't exist here. Americans (sorry I should specify, American girls) just love to share their experiences with everyone; they love to talk and they really couldn't care less about being embarrassed by what they say. It can be about anything. From their bowel movements to exactly what someone gets up to with their boyfriend in the library.

Highly cringe worthy stuff for a British person (especially me, the girl who decided she wasn't going to buy underwear yesterday because there was a male cashier - and yes, he was quite clearly very gay).

Today I had my first surf lesson.

WOW!

I had so much fun! I never even noticed how freezing cold the water was, all I really noticed was that I was certainly not in the Caribbean and that these waves were fierce! I don't think I have ever had so much salt water forced down my throat or been flipped as many times as I was this morning but it was spectacular.

Prior to my first surf lesson, I had decided the clever thing to do would be to look up 'Sharks attacking Surfers'. Yeah real clever Melissa. That was just a genius idea. However, when I got to the waters edge, a bit like when I go Scuba Diving, the thought of Sharks vanished from my head. It is actually quite selfish and vain to think these incredible creatures are simply out to get YOU specifically.

Anyway, we first started by practicing our moves on boards on the beach. This meant pretending to paddle, jumping up and quickly getting to our sides. This including one movement where you stick your bum in the air and bring your left foot up towards your hands and push up with your arms - yep just like the Yoga move I had been practicing the previous week! Funny how things tie together in such a way. Maybe it was because I was practicing this continually for fifteen minutes that I no longer noticed how cold the sea was - when you are roasting like a bbqued chicken in a wetsuit in 27  degrees celsius, the freezing cold Pacific feels glorious.

My friend asked me the other day, "Why are all surfers so fit? I mean all they do is surf, they don't go the gym or anything but they have bodies like Gods, it doesn't make sense."

Um well, that is because surfing is such hard work. Some people in the class even had to take breathers sitting out on the sand (I didn't but I am part fish so being in the sea is part of my natural habitat). First you have to carry the huge board, which is hard enough in itself, but then trying to control it as you do the stingray shuffle into the sea....well that is even harder! Quite a few times I would just get flung back by wave and have to start again. When you're paddling out towards the sea, you have to do push ups over the waves, which after a while definitely starts to hurt your arms.

I stood up on my board for a second. I am not the most elegant of people and kept trying to go to my knees instead of straight to my feet which was a minor problem. I did a lot of knee surfing, which I was pretty proud of and at the end of the surf you just get flipped to the bottom. Often the floor smacks straight into you but sometimes you would get stuck under your board for quite a while. I couldn't stop smiling though. It was so much fun. The teachers were also super nice and tried to help you! I was a bit embarrassed that I only managed to stand up for a microsecond before smashing my bum into the floor but at least it is a start. I am probably going to ask my friend if I can borrow his board and go practice this weekend.

It is so much fun.

I think I've gone a bit crazy this week. Maybe the heat went to my head or maybe I have fallen over and hurt something but I have just had a week full of my stupidity.

1. I stayed up for four hours and got up at 5am the next day to finish the Spanish homework.....the wrong Spanish homework. Our actual Spanish homework was two pages and apparently took about half an hour tops.

2. Woke up on Sunday, jumped out of bed, started dashing to get ready for class before...yep you guessed it, realised it was a Sunday.

3. Randomly answered to the name 'Lucy' during one of my class registers "Present...no hang on, not present, sorry".

4. Telling the class that my Mum had to fight to be able to go to university due to family pressures (we were talking about the difficulities nowadays with women getting an education or job and if prejudice is still present today), before proceeding to raise my hand when the teacher asked if we were 'first generation University kids" (I thought it meant if we'd gone to University straight away or taken a gap year).

5. Went to Yoga - funny enough in itself. I have never gone to yoga before in my life as my flexibility is dismal! I loved it, however, and want to sign up for the term. My stomach and ribs are hurting even today.

6. During Yoga, whilst sticking my bum high in the air, realised I had my Gym shorts on inside out.

7. Have tripped at least six times (the pavement here isn't flat! And I drag my feet anyway so I keep tripping in my flip flops!)

8. Wore a pretty blue smart shirt for my class because I had to give a presentation so I wanted to look smart....proceeded to match it with bright pink shorts.

9. Was about to put a dollop of Ice cream on my dinner plate for a very unhealthy dinner when my friend asked me "Why on earth are you putting a scoop of butter on your plate? Are you just going to eat butter?" DON'T PUT AN ICE CREAM SCOOP IN BUTTER! IT CONFUSES PEOPLE!

10. I continue to forget people don't understand me when I inform them I am going to the loo. They stare at me as I wonder off and teachers just look at you in confusion when you ask to go - a) the fact you asked shocks them and b) what the hell is a loo?

11. Have had two really lovely guys come up to me and say "Oh you are in my (insert class here), how are you?" and me to completely not recognise them at all.

Maybe I need a proper sleep. These 8ams are killing me.

On a side note - congratulations to my sister who finally passed her driving test! Thanks Grahame for teaching her too! Wooopppp! Now be CAREFUL WITH MY KA! I am watching you....x

I forgot just how much I missed Zumba!

I did it briefly in my first year in the summer term but then the teacher broke her hip over the summer and so I didn't do it during my second year.

However, here in America, where there are three gyms on campus which contain everything under the sun, there was bound to be a Zumba class I could join. I signed up before my plane even touched the American soil and tonight was the first lesson. It had been a long day (coupled with the fact I'd barely been to sleep the night before as we all went over to our friend's apartment and watched a scary movie followed by us staying up late and discussing the previous Friday night (seriously Katy Perry's song could not be more appropriate)) but I forced myself to go as deep down I knew it would be a blast. Also failing to turn up to the first session just seems to be the biggest kind of failure possible!

I had never been to the RIMAC arena on campus, which is odd because it is the closest gym to me. It is just because I go to the Canyon View Swimming Pool everyday so I feel no need and nor do I have any more time to go to the RIMAC (which contains no aquatic facilities). Firstly, it is beautiful. So clean and brand new looking. Seriously England need to learn a thing or three about gyms. This looked so high-tec and highly polished that it just made you want to dash in and start working out there and then.

Anyone I've spoken to recentely on Skype has said the same thing.. "Oh my GOD! YOU'VE DYED YOUR HAIR!!!" I can see the confusion

 Me a few days before going to America:-

First week of Academics over...and what do I think of the American system so far? Well it is far better than the English one. Maybe I am just biased but the American University system is so much more intense and structured than the education you receive in England. It is a lot harder, you are meant to read a lot more, and there isn't so much guidance as to what secondary readings you are meant to do for classes - that is something you have to figure out on your own. You are also meant to make connections between the set reading and the topic you are actually meant to be reading. For example, one of my professors has set one book written in 16th century Italy for us to read. It is the only book we must read in the next two weeks. It is for our class on 20th century dictatorship in Latin America. We are meant to make connections between the text and dictatorships within Latin America despite the fact we have just started the course and therefore, are not that clued up on the ins and outs of Dictatorships within Latin America. Furthermore, he has not indicated that we need to do any secondary reading. In England, some fellow students make take this literally and deem they do not need to do anything else. However, this is not the case. We need to read a lot to be able to make any kind of sense in our discussion classes when talking about the book's relation to Latin America - all of Latin America.


 Furthermore, instead of two hours of Spanish every week, packed into a full classroom where the teacher speak's English 80% of the time, I have Spanish for six hours a week. Everyday at 8am I have a Spanish class and yes, it may sound like hell, but having it first thing in the morning actually makes it go really quickly and I am really enjoying myself. The teacher speaks only in Spanish and if you are caught speaking in English you get a strike against you. My Grammar classes only contain four students so we are basically getting one on one teaching, and my speaking classes are arranged so that we are in a circle and cannot escape speaking Spanish at some point or another. This is the way languages are meant to be taught.


 My literature class is a bit wacky. The typical, out there, wacky English professor we all see in American chic-flick movies isn't just an incorrect stereotype. It is real. This professor is completely wacky. He comes out with sentences such as "Has anyone thought about the word analyse. I mean if we break it down into parts what are we actually doing to the text." Bizarre quotes like that along with when we were reading about a tree and he said "Wow, I can feel this sh*t is about to get real deep. We are diving in guys, can you feel it?" cannot help but keep me entertained. Hey, it's ten times better than reading 'One Hundred Years of Solitude' in a quiet room at the top of the humanities building in Warwick any day.


 Now editing classes. My pride and joy. I love them already. We get to work in an editing lab and use Final Cut Pro 7 and we get to individually make our own movies.It is just a dream. We were all asked to introduce ourselves and say a scene in a movie that we felt was superbly edited. That kind of question immediately makes you start to panic "Shall I say an arty film? Would that make me sound pretentious or clever? Or shall I say a film i really like? Will he (the professor) laugh at me? Will anyone laugh at me? What kind of films do I like again? Ah panic!" In the end, I concluded that the best thing to do was to be myself. My friends would have laughed as I nervously said "Hi, I'm Melissa....I don't know about movies but have you ever seen the British show 'Sherlock'?"


 What I have realised is that not my University but my Secondary School prepared me for this type of learning. You don't get lists of books to read, you have to find scholars by yourself, and that in the end, all subjects are somehow joined together. For example, my art history class has really helped me in the History of Latin American class as we were talking about Florence and tyrant rulers there such as the Medici family. I would not have known all about the Medici family and the idea of patronage if it had not been for my History of Art classes. My English classes in Secondary school really prepared me for debate and analysing texts too. Whereas I felt a lot more stunted at University and felt we were guided as to which passages to read and which places were particularly important to the professor and they therefore wanted us to simply focus on interpreting that piece.


 And finally, as many of my fellow Humanity students will love to hear, America appreciated humanities. They actually value them and are impressed whenever you say that your major is 'History'. The majority of people are working towards a major in science, engineering or economics. Most of them can skip classes easily without being caught (the halls and classes are so big that no register is ever taken and no one notices if you are not there, whereas you immediately loose a grade in my classes if you miss more than two lessons), and the amount of reading expected of you is admirable to all those taking science majors. It is nice and very different to England.


 So everything is going well. The Academics are incredible and the extra curricular activities are even cooler (I will do another blog soon on all that I am doing especially as they really start to start next week). Don't worry I am really not just dedicating my work to life. I just thought I'd write a bit about the academic system for those who were curious. :) x