Author: Arianna

“I wish I could be like other people and throw up in normal places” -Kayla Costello, ladies and gentlemen

Looks like I survived midterms week!

So now, a few more brief and not-so-brief updates from the past… um, month. I know, I know, I’ve been a complete underachiever when it comes to updating my autobiographical alcoholism/this blog – but in my defense, I’ve been swamped with an insane schedule of traveling the English countryside in hopes of becoming royalty (no success so far, but I’ll keep you posted!), being completely overwhelmed by the British grading system (“No, Arianna, a 68 means you did very well…”), having drinks bought for me by Queen Mary professors (see: next entry), and personally petitioning for artistic expression that better reflects my values as an American. Yes, we can.

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This just in: I’ve had a change of heart (or as close as I have to a heart, anyway). I officially take back all of those times I mocked marriage and the T-Swifts out there (or as I lovingly refer to her, T-Squints) who singlehandedly set women back 50 years. Okay, I’m kidding, I’ll always be the first to bash that Aryan headache and her “lyrics” aka plagiarism from the valentines I sent out in 3rd grade. Anyway, the point is, I found love in a hopeless place. And “hopeless” is putting it kindly when you’re living in between two fried chicken shops smack dab in the cocaine center of East London. Continue reading →

It’s been an interesting past couple of weeks… Here are the highlights:

1) I’ll admit it: I didn’t believe the abundant rumors that British men resemble the third stage from the cover of Animorph books; after all, England is the country that gave us the panty dropper that is Colin Firth. Obviously, I was young and naive. Continue reading →

“Update your blog, missy” -Geneve

Well, if you insist. So, an insane amount has happened since I last posted on here. But first, even though I’m about a century late on it, here are the highlights from when my main squeeze Julie (whose blog can conveniently be found here) visited my personal slice of study abroad paradise aka East London:

– Attempting to sightsee Friday afternoon with Jules… but really that just resulted in shopping at Oxford Circus for a minimum of five hours while jacked up on Starbucks mochas. Continue reading →

“Just promise me you won’t get kidnapped. You don’t have Hayden around anymore to keep you out of trouble.” -another gem from Marti

Whatever could my dear mother be referring to?

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Now that it’s hit February and all I’ve posted are a few measly Instagrams, I’m faced with another standard study abroad crisis: the Facebook photo album. I’ve received complaints with friends and family alike that stalking me hasn’t been the thrill it normally is… because, well, there’s hardly anything to stalk. My previous Madrid masterpiece, Dicking Around Europe, just isn’t cutting it anymore. And it’s not like anyone is going to actually read my blog. This same predicament applies to one of my BFFs, Kayla – my dance partner from ballet class, my French tutor, the girl I like to pretend to be fraternal twins with at parties, and the only other person who appreciates the lyrical genius of Kanye’s “Clique” quite like I do.

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And now for an entry dedicated entirely to this lovely lady on the right. I was in a dark place last Friday when a foot of snow/avalanche by SoCal standards prevented me from traveling to Hertfordshire – but good news, now Julie is dropping by London in a few hours! Continue reading →