party on eastbourne, party on.

Ugh, blogging.

This week I was fortunate enough to hit up two birthday 'parties,' one for my friend Greg and one for my uncle Thom. Although, unfortunately, neither of them really were that hardcore. I wasn't expecting my uncle's 43rd to be intense, but Greg's 21st birthday party was kind of a letdown. Don't get me wrong, I had a pretty good time, but my night mostly involved talking to people about our upcoming trip to Norwich next weekend and watching Greg dance around the kitchen.

Saturday I went into Brighton, and after a nice stint of people watching on Brighton Pier and lunch at Pret, Tiffany and I went exploring along the Laines. Everyone always talked up the laines, saying how unique they were, but in reality I wasn't expecting much. Much to my surprise, it was awesome. I'm talking pirate shaped dish brushes and functioning teapots made of crumpled magazines awesome. For all you lucky kids who I happen to like, I'm sure I'll be buying your England presents there. But you'll have to send me a letter or something first. Tit for tat.

Saturday night Kassandra came over, we had a night planned full of mangoes with sticky rice, cadbury chocolate, bad british television and bailey's hot chocolate. However, she fell asleep at 9.15. So, I spent the rest of my night catching up on my BBC news reading and reversi playing. Party on. This morning we went exploring around Eastbourne, traveling to the pier and eating fresh crepes at some small french cafe along the beach.

After she left I came back to the house and made some cupcakes for Thom's birthday, complete with sprinkles, strawberries, walnuts, Lindt chocolates and cocoa powder. I have to say, I feel like I did some pretty fine work. Although this seems like a seemingly dull weekend, in reality it was pretty nice. I just expect things to move slower here, a nice leisurely pace. Living in Eastbourne away from the college town of Brighton has already made me appreciate the English way of life, much more than it would have had I chose to live on campus. By being able to fully immerse myself in this 'lifestyle' I can further convince myself that this is where I want to spend most of my time "when I grow up." Sorry mom.

My delicious crepe, complete with chocolate sauce and cappucino.

Thom's cupcakes, round one. The one in the back right looks like it could use a little help.

Round two.

Plate #1: finished.

All the candles artfully placed onto one cupcake.

baaaaa-logging.

Ugh, blogging.

I've never had a thing against blogs, but once I decided to get one myself to document my study abroad trip it was a different story.

This is retarded.

I think to be a successful blogger you need to not have a filter that blocks from brain to keyboard. Unfortunately, I have a filter. Stream of conciousness doesn't really flow well outside of my head. Right now, if I were a good blogger, I would be telling you how 'Do you Hear the People Sing' from the musical Les Miserables is stuck in my head on repeat. Or how on the way back from the movie I just saw, I spotted a women pushing a baby stroller while wearing a sweatshirt that said...

'Just cover me in chocolate and throw me to the lesbians.'

But I can't. Jane says that I need to try it for two months, and see how it goes. I give myself a week. Hopefully, I'll pull through with pointless and meaningless facts about Britian and the highly exciting life I'm living, but I have doubts. I blame Mary for my pessimism. (Sorry mom!)

The highlight of my day for example, was finding a type of thai rice in the grocery store that I can make dinner with.

My excitement is already limited to domestic purposes. I feel I'm going to make it far in life.

So, here it is. My attempt at an online diary.

[the end of my beginning weekend]

this is beachy head, the part of the infamous south downs thats located in eastbourne. becasue there have been so many suicides at beachy head over the centuries, theyve set up a little chapel on top of the cliff, so samaratians can hopefully talk people out of offing themselves.
water-spitting gargoyles off the side of the cathedral in chichester in southern england.