Don’t Meet The Men From Oxford

Please note the “You Can’t Sit With Us” shirt. Americans are exclusive that way.

Oxford is a peculiar little place. For those of you who have been tuning in to my entries (hi, Mom), you may recall tales of Oxford study abroad-ers peeing in the middle of club dance floors, trekking home miles alone barefoot, waking up in bathtubs drenched in baby oil, and overall, losing a whoooole lot of dignity. Me visiting was no exception. Continue reading

Once A Wizard, Always A Wizard

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Yer a wizard, Harry.

It doesn’t matter how often ABC Family runs their Harry Potter Weekend movie marathon, I’ll watch it each and every time. It’s true, the little love I have within my black Grinch heart will always be reserved for J. K. Rowling’s series. As a 90s kids, it’s been a soft spot ever since Mama Marti used to read the books aloud to me and my brother before bed and taught us how to properly pronounce Hermione’s name (although the peasants in my second grade class never believed me… such Americans, am I right?). Continue reading

I’m Blue Da Ba Dee Dabba Da-ee

After being tucked away in my drafts folder for more or less an eternity, here it is: a post on when I returned to Julie’s stomping ground of Hertfordshire and the obvious reason why I chose London as my study abroad destination… the Harry Potter Studio Tour.

First, Hertfordshire. The University of Hertfordshire makes up for the fact that… you know, no one has ever fucking heard of it, by equipping its campus with a multilevel venue complete with an auditorium, three bars, and a club. Continue reading

Amsterdam: More Than Just Space Cakes

Now for the entry that my parents have been dreading and everyone else has been waiting for: Amsterdam! Or ‘Amsterdamaged’ if your name is Julie “Julez” Irwin and internal organs such as your liver didn’t exactly make it back in one piece. (See julezirwin.wordpress.com for details.) But before you start cringing, Marti, and prepare to disown me as your one and only daughter, I’d like to kick off this, um, interesting recollection by stating that – contrary to every story I’ve ever heard (partly from friends, mostly from my dad) – there actually is more to Amsterdam than getting high. Bold statement, I know, but read on. Continue reading

Chocolate > Belts

Two entries in one day because I’m feeling ambitious. Also, at this point I’d take just about anything – POW torture, a summer at my grandma’s, reruns of Glee (cut the cord already, Ryan Murphy, it’s time) – over cramming for the Human Resource Management exam that stands between me and freedom aka In-N-Out burger.

Alternate entry title: “Apparently it would be too much to ask for normal flatmates” Continue reading

No Line Cutting Allowed

“Sunglasses and Advil. Last night was mad real.” -Kanye West, my life’s inspiration

Yes, I’m still alive and, no, despite my better judgment I haven’t abandoned this blog yet. To be honest, the whole month-long break thing has turned out to be a million times busier than expected*. Still to come: entries about Budapest, Amsterdam, Hertfordshire, Oxford, and most importantly, the Harry Potter Studio Tour, also commonly referred to as the day my life became complete. Continue reading

Chocolate Bunny For The Road

Later that week, I met up with Minnesota and his family in Paris. It was pretty standard Arianna in the way that I rolled up to the hotel two hours later than expected – but in my defense, it wasn’t from being directionally challenged as usual, but rather my French isn’t exactly top-notch (sorry, Madame Saad, you did all that you could) and the metro workers’ English directions were far from fluent. As it was approaching midnight and I was still waiting for my train to arrive – at a deserted station, completely alone aside from a pack of older guys – I could only think that Minnesota sitting me down a couple days earlier to watch the Taken trailer (apparently I scream “Kidnap me” – who knew?) was poor timing. It didn’t help that the movie’s location was also Paris and Tim has been procrastinating with that taser license of mine. Continue reading

Bunch Of Monets

Flashback to my fifth entry: remember that British random who texted me the calculator-related pickup line? (I must confess, a “sin” pun don’t get me going as much as, say, a bottle of Patron.) Well, last night as I was innocuously strolling back to my dorm as I typically do, he detected me with his stalker vision from across the courtyard and shouted, “Hey! Arianna from California!” Keep in mind it’s been a solid three months since I’ve seen this triple/occasionally quadruple texter in the flesh. So, I did what any normal person would do… and sprinted away in the opposite direction as fast I could for someone who persuaded her high school PE teacher to let her walk the mandatory 5K and hasn’t felt the urge to run since. Continue reading

Spoons, Krispy Kremes, & Cabbage Patch Dolls

Now time to summarize the entire month of March in less than 500 words. Here goes… something.

– Witherspoon, commonly referred to as Spoons: it occurred to me I probably come here too often when I gave my friends a complete in-depth review of the entire menu.

– This restaurant slash bar is one of my weeknight go-tos because a) it’s only a ten-minute walk from campus… and we all know how I feel about exercise being an unnecessary evil b) they have a ‘two pitchers for 10 pounds’ deal (very necessary for margarita fanatics like myself) and c) it’s never a dull time. Continue reading