Round Robin

Yes! It is that time of the year again - it is Christmas and what does Christmas mean? Catching up with those friends and relatives that you have forgotten for the rest of the year - its the round robin. So for all of those I have forgotten here is my round robin.

It has been an extraordinary year for all concerned, I for one had no idea what living in America would bring! But it hasn't just been an exciting year for me, Oz finally completed his undergraduate degree and met with a potential graduate school supervisor! Aunt Marjorie finally completed her patchwork on the history of clocks throughout the centuries, although she jokes that it will never really be finished! But before we get carried away let us not forget to mention the passing of Percy our Parakeet, he had been Majorie's best friend for neigh on twenty years and following his untimely demise due to an unfortunately out-of-date date she could barely bring herself to finish the patchwork.

Cousin Dermot was ordained as a man of the cloth by ordinations4u.com, we are all very proud of him and have booked him for all our christenings, weddings and funerals for the foreseeable future. If you would his services (his speciality is funerals and bar mitzvahs!) email crazyrevderm@hotmail.com.

Oz continues to astound us all, he got straight As in his quarter at UCSB and has now finished his undergraduate, we are all very proud of him. He is currently finishing writing a ground breaking manuscript that is set to change the field of avian palaeontology forever! We all wait with baited breath. Just this week he visited LA and met with the one-and-only reknowned Dr. Luis M. Chiappe, Director of the Dinosaur institute at the LA county Natural History Museum, whom he hopes to continue Postgraduate studies with, they were locked in an office in heated debate for many hours! Oz is currently travelling around California with Martyni before returning to Australia for six months to rest on his laurels.

Martyni passed her first year of her degree with a grade good enough to continue her scholarship, however she has left her home university for a year to study abroad at UCSB. She has found the experience interesting to say the least, and has so far resisted the urge to strangle certain teachers, although how long she will be able to continue resisting is uncertain. She has bravely attempted to study Arabic and to our amazement passed this quarter with a flying pass! She found it surprisingly enjoyable, stretching her brain in previously under-utilised ways. Oz is encouraging her to stretch other parts of her anatomy. She has found the experience of having a room mate interesting to say the least, and is slightly unsettled at the prospect of not having her own room until next October. After completing her studies at UCSB she intends to spend the summer with Oz in her in Melbourne, working as an assistant teacher.

With the craziness of 2008 all but over, we eagerly anticipate what the new year shall bring!

With love,

Martyni and Oz xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Moving and LA (thankfully not to LA)

I'm writing this blog sitting next to Oz on a Greyhound bus that's going from LA to San Francisco. We're in the middle of fuck-knows-where-ville driving next to what looks to be thousands of cows, and trust me =, you can smell them! After a lapse of an hour or two, we made it back to civilisation—for a moment at least—before being plunged back into the dark highway. There is a strange cackling man sitting next to us. So instead of getting freaked out by the cackling man who occasionally decides to stare at us I'll recount what has been going on in the past week or so.

As soon as my exams finished I had the joy of moving and Oz had the joy of helping me. Having none of my friends with cars around at this point we had no choice but to carry all my stuff (and I have accumulated a lot of it over the past four months!) the five or so blocks to my new apartment. But alas, if only it had been that easy. We expected to move in straight away, but my new room mate was still in residence, so we were in limbo for three days not being entirely sure where our possessions were.

On the subject of room mates I appear to have moved from an anal one into the room of a stoned, permanently hungover one. Of the three days we moved my stuff she was hungover on each of them, the mornings were spent with her make-up smeared over her face, lying in bed, with the covers pulled over her head. Its going to be an interesting two quarters.

I have vowed to move as least often as possible following this experience. We were generally ill prepared in every possible way and it was a complete nightmare that led to us setting of for our travels three hours late,

Oz has written a guide to easy moving. Here it is:

Step one: Have a friend with easy access to a car on standby at all times.
Step two: Do not acquire any personal belongings, so they do not, as a result, need to be moved in the first place.
Step Three: If you ignore both of the first two steps, make sure you do not try and move two person's belongings from different houses at the same time, mixing the items up as much as possible.
Step Three and a half: If you are trying to live in two residences at once do not move many of these items back and forth several times before they find their final resting place.
Step Four: If at all possible, do not move house.

Anyway I am now 98% in my new apartment (a few last minute items were discovered and stowed away in a cupboard to be moved when we get back. We were so disorganised that we had to get a later bus and arrived in LA in the pitch black.

The next day was our first proper day in LA and what did we do? Spend the entire morning trying to get a bus to the Natural History Museum (don't go if you don't have a car - totally not worth it!) because Oz wants to do a PhD with one of the big shots there and went to butter him up. The result being that Oz had lots of Palaeontological conversations and spent hours looking at casts of bones (not even the actual fossils!) whilst I sat in the corner of an office knitting and bored out of my mind. I'll let Oz justify himself. As is widely known, palaeontologists are teh coolest people alive. I need just two words to justify this bombastic claim: T. rex. To my great delight, I discovered that there was a largely-complete skeleton of this iconic creature in the draws of the lab we were visiting. There is also considerable merit in long, convoluted and technical conversations on extinct creatures that no one cares about, besides the select few geeks who live and breath this stuff. What more reason does one need for such a laborious trek?

Anyway, after about five hours of being cooped up in this office (or "lab") we eventually escaped, only to spend the next hour or so on the buses in the pouring rain (oh yes, it does rain in LA!) so that we couldn't actually see where we were supposed to get off. I eventually forced Oz to come food shopping with me (Oz: I wasnt forced; she persuaded me with her silver tongue) and the actually began to become enjoyable. We got our hands on some hot chocolates and some beautiful French bread (that reminded me of Sunday breakfasts with my family) and we sat in a cafe dipping the bread into our hot chocolates. Beautiful. We also were able to get some red wine and the night began to look up.

Having vowed not to step foot in any more palaeontology based attractions on this trip it was with surprise and some annoyance that I found myself outside the La Brea tar pits, where a long time ago a lot of boring animals met their untimely end and now some geeks dig up their bones and make a big deal out of something that matters very little indeed. So I ended up trawling around a museum that Oz theoretically wasn't even interested in, he prefers the Mesozoic period, these animals weren't even dinosaurs! (See, I am learning things about dinosaurs slowly, I embarrassed Oz in front of some PhD students the day before by calling something a dinosaur when it wasn't. Served him right for boring me stupid!)

After getting high off the tar fumes we finally were released and we went shopping on Melrose Avenue, I don't even particularly enjoy shopping but it was my highlight of the day so far. I got a cool t-shirt with the picture from earth beamed out to aliens with Jesus in the background, sounds strange but I like it. I wanted to get a Mary is my Homegirl t-shirt but they didn't have the right size. I also got an amazing t-shirt fro a friend of mine, but its a secret so I shan't tell you just how amazing it was.

Once Oz got scared at how dark it was getting and how much our chances of mugging has increased we went back to our hostel and has a pitifully small dinner. After complaining of not having eaten enough we put ourselves at risk of mugging by venturing outside to get some more dinner. We also attempted to see the Hollywood sign, but no buses were going the right way and after waiting for half an hour we gave up waiting and strolled to Santa Monica Boulevard. Having decided against about half a dozen restaurants we eventually ended up in an Italian and had a beautiful Bruschetta and cheese free pizza. But even more excitingly than that I got served! I had two glasses of wine in a restaurant underage! I actually felt like an adult for the first time in four months. Was fantastic.

Today we had very little time, once we'd packed up and got to the Greyhound station our time in LA was over. We've done none of the usual LA things, although we did go along Hollywood Boulevard and saw the stars names on the pavement. But this was only because the Greyhound station was on a road off of it. I didn't leave LA with a particularly good picture of it, it seemed sprawling and full of palaeontology. I'll be very glad to get to San Francisco, which I can now actually see!

Greyhound weirdoes - 1, LA muggings - 0, LA sights seen - 0 (Although insists we've seen at least 1, I dispute this entirely!), Oz: disgustingly unhealthy fast food pitstops - 1

Finals

Sorry I've been silent for ages, I have been very busy with studying, both catching up on what I missed whilst ill and revising for exams. This last week has been finals week in which each subject holds a final examination, in England I don't mind exams because we're given time off to study for them and have past questions to look at, but both have been deprived to me and I've been struggling to have the energy to study.

My exams were a really mixed bag, I seriously messed up Arabic but not because I didn't know the Arabic, but because I didn't know the language of learning languages, for example what is a conjunctive verb? There were two possibilities to decide from, so I just guessed. In the end I somehow passed the course, but I don't know what by due to being graded pass or no pass. I think I barely scraped by, but I did it, which I did not think I would at the start of the quarter. My religion in America exam went as well as could be expected, but anthropology was a nightmare, I realise halfway through the exam why I never do well in the exams, they want skills I don't possess - they want regurgitation. I can't do that, but I can make intelligent comments and good arguments, which is not what they are looking for at all. So I don't expect to to do to well.

But on the positive side I've now finished, but Oz hasn't. I'm writing this on Oz's kitchen table at three thirty in the morning helping him study by encouraging him to continue and looking interested whilst he explains his course to me. He has had other exams that have prevented him from studying for this one, so he's been reading over 190 detailed pages of lecture notes for almost the last twelve hours in a desperate attempt to pass. Coffee has been a very good friend to him over this time as he chatters away to himself. I've never pulled an all-nighter before because I reach a studying point of no return and have to go to sleep, but where my man (and no studying) is involved I can pull the cat out of the bag. I'm walking with him to the exam and waiting outside (or if a coffee shop nearby is open then in there) for him before we celebrate. With this exam he will have finished his whole degree, so a big celebration is in order.

Unfortunately we won't really have much time to celebrate because tomorrow I am moving apartment. I had one apartment lined up but unfortunately with less than two weeks before the end of term the person I was taking over from decided she wasn't moving after all, so I got quite stressed and desperately replied to lots of adverts. Unfortunately I was really tired as I was still recovering from being ill and was busy trying to catch up on work I'd missed out on, so I only got round to viewing one house, the one that I really wanted. Luckily I got the room and so am moving tomorrow into a room on DP, the main party street of IV that is adjacent to the ocean. I've still got a room mate, but the room is en suite, the living space is bigger and there is a balcony - outdoor space! I have no where to go in my current apartment and often look longingly out of the window at the good weather but am unable to enjoy it without a five - ten minute walk. So I'm really looking forward to moving in.

There are however a few moving related problems (does moving ever go smoothly?), I have no vehicle to move with, so its our arms and bikes to move me, will be interesting. It is also unfurnished and I have virtually no furniture at the moment, so have to buy a bed, desk and chair, as well as kitchen equipment that I don't have either. Today I tried unsuccessfully to buy furniture, the thrift (second hand) shop I went to had no beds and the desks were all heavy and expensive. I tried new desks, but for my budget (under $50) and requirements (BIG - I'm messy and like to spread out) I couldn't find anything. I've decided that the best thing to do would be to buy a table, but I'm yet to find a cheap, light table. But the desk isn't my main problem, that is a bed, when I actually move in (my rent in my current apartment runs out on the 31st, so I can continue living there for a while) depends entirely on when I can get a bed. I'm going to go to another thrift store tomorrow in the hope that I can buy one and get a taxi to get it home. On less than three hours sleep its going to be entertaining to say the least!

The joy of room mates

Normally I have no problem with having a room mate, we don't pay each other that much attention and she is usually out anyway. I do try and build up brownie points anyway, if I'm doing my washing up and there is some of her stuff to do as well I'll wash it up , but perhaps the biggest way I try to earn brownie points is by giving her and her boyfriend space when he comes round, if he is staying over I'll sleep on the sofa. My room mates doesn't see why I should sleep on the sofa, she sees absolutely no problem with me being in the same room as them, I don't particularly appreciate the idea of being woken up by them having sex but not being able to leave the room as that would involve me walking past her bed, so I willingly sleep on the sofa. However I once awoke to his snoring and was forced to sleep on the living room floor (she had friends sleeping on the sofas). I think its fair to say that I try my hardest to be a good room mate, I just wish she'd do the same.

I'm not going to kick her out onto the sofa any nights because Oz lives very close by and can easily go home to sleep (her boyfriend has graduated and lives near LA), also Oz agrees that it is wierd to have another girl sleeping in the same room as us, and so surely it is not beyond her to return home unexpectedly. So far she has walked in on us unexpectedly three times. The first was my birthday and she assured me that she wouldn't get off work until after midnight, instead she got home two hours early. We heard the front door lock go and dived behind a convnient kitchen worktop and yelled "don't come in! Give us 2 minutes!" she was so shocked that she left the door slightly ajar and returned over five minutes later by which time Oz and I were sitting on the sofa watching a movie pretending nothing had ever happened.

I can't rememeber the second time, but I know it happened. Oz can't remember it either - perhaps we had our memories wiped MIB style.

Last night it happened again. My room mate has just turned 21 and she and her boyfriend went nightclubbing, after having the room to themselves for hours they finally left and Oz and I quickly occupied it. Unfortunately ten minutes later I hear teh familiar sound of someone walking up the steps and Oz quickly jams a chair under the door handle to prevent anyone entering. I'm very thankful he did because one minute later Lisa tries to enter without even a knock. She only tries once so we hope she has given up on trying to get in, however a short while later we hear her yell "I forgot my ID!" seriously, who forgets their ID, it is vitally important for a night out on the town in the US, I know this is her first time going out, but who can be that stupid? Anyway Oz dives under the covers and I wrap my dressing gown around me and grudgingly open the door. Our embarrassment was quite public, there was not only my room mate and her boyfriend to witness this debaucle, but also our flat mate and two of her friends. I long for my own room, where you can have sex whenever you want and you can lock the door and not let anyone in...

Earlier that day I had walked in on my room mates boyfriend with only a towel covering him up, I had popped next door and left the door unlockes, but that pop turned into a cup of tea, so I decided to go and lock the door. When I got in not everything was as I'd left it, the light in my room was on, so I went to investigate, only to discover her boyfriend with just a towel covering his dignity. Another time I almost walked in on them, I had left to go to next door when a party was taking place here, so assumed that I would be able to get in and get my stuff later, but when I returned the place was all shut up, except for my room, which had been barracaded shut with a chair, did I insist on going in though? No, I just went without what I'd wanted to get, wish my room mate would do the same.

Well next September I will get my own room again, but with no Oz to enjoy the freedom with...

Thanksgiving and sickness

Yesterday was Thanksgiving and Oz and I were all set to spend it with the American family I've been partnered with. However the day before Thanksgiving I started to feel really ill with a sore throat and later bad ear ache, I went to see a nurse and got tested for a variety of throat infections, one of which came back very quickly and proved to be negative, the other I'm yet to find out about, I did however leave with a few non-prescription drugs that have largely proved to be useless. Anyway Oz and I cancelled our planned trip to the Channel Islands and hoped I'd feel better soon.

I woke up at 3am on Thanksgiving morning when Oz a sleeping Oz decided to cuddle me closer, unfortunately due to the ibuprofen wearing off (and another batch not being allowed to be taken for another hour or two) it was too painful to go back to sleep as every time I swallowed the pain woke me up again. I ended up dozing on the sofa because at least then I could sleep sitting up which was less painful. When I finally gave up the hope of further sleep and got dressed in an impressive 5 layers of tops. Needless to say I was pretty useless, I was in lots of pain but could take no more ibuprofen (why can you only have 6 in 24 hours - why?) and only had 2 paracetamol tablets left that made absolutely no difference. So I sat on the sofa moaning until Oz got up 3 hours later and produced some Tylenol from his bag which helped enough to get me out of the house.

We went for a walk along the beach, and ended up buying some food, unfortunately by this point my Tylenol hit was wearing off and I was feeling crap again. Thankfully the only shop that was open in IV sold aspirin, so I got to add that to my painkiller collection, my liver is now working overtime with trying to get rid of them all. Walking around IV was very strange, instead of the bustling place I had come to know it was more like a ghost town, very, very few people around and only one shop open. I am very grateful, I could not cope with a loud IV when I have ear ache and am feeling well and truly crap. If my neighbours call me the "English bitch" already, I dread to think of what they'd call me after I tried to politely, yet extremely firmly get them to shut the hell up.

I had hoped that the walk would make me feel marvellous, they helped a lot when I had ME, however it just made me feel worse and so I had to phone up and cancel my Thanksgiving plans, which is a real shame, I would have loved to experience a real American tradition. But it couldn't be helped and I made the right decision to cancel.

When I eventually crawled back I sat in my bed and called by family, I succeeded in really worrying my mother, but I enjoyed the chat nonetheless. Oz brought me lunch in bed, which was very sweet of him and he met my parents and sister via the wonders of Skype. After that he sat down next to me and showed me his home town of Melbourne and we discovered that he lives only 8kms from Neighbours very own Ramsay street - which in my mind means I've pulled my very own Neighbours spunk! It also means that when I visit him I can go and see the Neighbours set! He promised to go with me, which is just about the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me seeing as he hates Neighbours. But our Neighbours time did not finish there - we watched the Fraser and Rosie wedding online and the inevitable wedding disaster. Oz hated it but I patiently explained to him that its brilliance lies in its down right awfulness, he still didn't seem to understand why this made it fantastic. I'll have to convert him another day.

After that I actually went to sleep and woke up to my surprise several hours later feeling awful as all my painkillers had worn off. After very slowly making a nutritious soup for dinner and eating it even slower I felt better and Oz and I curled up on the sofa and watched Pride and Prejudice (he suggested we watch it - I am a phenomenally lucky girl!). After Pride and Prejudice we made our way to bed and enjoyed another nights disjointed sleep.

I woke up agan very early and after proving how little brain function I had by running the cold tap for about five minutes in an attempt for it to run warm, once I had found the correct tap it quickly ran warm and I climbed into the shower. I eventually got dressed and this time wore only 3 layers, although one was thermal. Again Oz lay in and I made a pathetic attempt at washing up and ended up dozing on the sofa again. I felt even worse this morning because on top of my ear ache and my sore throat I had a blocked nose and have enjoyed sinus pressure all day long.

Oz has taken really good care of me today, making me dinner, cups of tea and fetching and carrying countless things as I sit around hoplessly. He's trying desperately to get me to eat lots of fresh fruit and veg as well as anything else that counts as healthy. Unfortunately I'm not hungry and am really tired so its very difficult to eat, but he tries anyway, the darling.

At the moment Oz is sat next to me on the sofa, both of us with our laptops, him doing his zoology memorisation (he has to learn ridiculous amounts of fishes which will inevitably never come in handy ever again), and me writing this blog very slowly. I have lots of work that I should be getting on with, but I can't bring myself to do it, I just feel too ill. I can't see myself getting better very quickly and may well have to skip some classes next week unfortunately, although this does lighten my work load temporarily.

Being ill has made me realise just how great the NHS is, if I was in England I would have gone to a walk-in centre today and hopefully gone home with some advice and prescription painkillers, as it is the place my medical insurance covers is closed until Monday and they won't pay for me to go anywhere else unless I am basically about to die or am greviously injured. Friends of mine have broken feet, had crippling earache and had their feet sliced open and the medical insurance has made them pay for it. I can afford the $500ish visit to the "Emergency Room" if necessary, but my travelling would be severally affected by the loss of money, so instead I'm intending to lie on my sofa moaning until the second they open, when I'll be in the Nurse's office as soon as my lathargic body will allow me.

Birthday time

A few days ago that annual event came round again for the twentieth time. Turning 20 seemed a dull affair, I am able to do no more things than I was able to previously, the only positive (besides having an excuse to party) was that I am no longer a teenager, I haven't felt like one for over four years, so its about time I turned 20. My birthday started well - at the stroke of midnight I was studying really hard on a subject that I don't like, and for a while the next morning it continued in the same vein.

Once I'd woken up my day started properly it got off to a bad start with a big dose of homesickness, opening presents from my family highlighted how far from home I am and how little we know about each other at the moment. I went to an exceptionally dull lecture quite emotional, barely not crying and whilst being unable to concentrate on the lecture I decided to renounce my birthday. Unfortunately thanks to facebook announcing my birthday to all my friends it was impossible to pretend it wasn't, in fact one of my friends told my Arabic teacher and she got everyone to sing me happy birthday in Arabic. So my birthday forced itself upon me.

I almost did not open the rest of my presents, I wasn't sure I could face it without breaking down again, but I braved it and was very glad to have done so. My best friends had sent me a wonderful package of lots of little presents, they were not at all expensive, but they were so well thought through, they had put so much effort into making it. It made me cry for all the right reasons, it really made my birthday.

After opening the presents I went shopping for drinks for my party, well I didn't actually buy them, being too young, but I went with my English friend from next door and she physically brought them. I spent almost $200 on alcohol, but I got probably 8 litres of high-quality spirits (no cheap crap for my guests!), 4 bottles of sparkling wine and a case of Newcastle Brown, alcohol is much cheaper in America. I know that it may sound like I've spent a lot of money on alcohol, but I'd easily spend that much on alcohol within a month in England and I've hardly spent any money on alcohol since being here. Anyway, it was my birthday!

It had been quite a tiring day what with loads of studying, shopping and being homesick and so when I eventually got to see Oz I basically collapsed on his sofa. He was very sweet with me though and gave me a cuddle. For my birthday he got me a head torch (a torch on a headband, a bit like a caving torch - to any American reading this I mean a flashlight, I'm not in the habit of holding flaming torches to my head), he was really excited about just how useful it would be for our camping trip next weekend and how I should wear it whilst walking around IV, which I point blank refused to do, I don't try to be cool, but that is taking my geeky side too far. I had my apartment to myself and so we decided to get a take-away and have a romantic meal by ourselves. I sent Oz off to go and buy the food and tidied up and set the table, although having said that I couldn't use the lighter and so had to get Oz to light the candle. We had a lovely Vietnamese meal with a bottle of sparkling wine.

After dinner we cuddled on the sofa and watched an Indiana Jones film (Oz loves those films and I've been promising to watch those with him for weeks). We also drank a fair few cocktails (we had to test them out for my party) and got quite squiffy. All in all my birthday was pretty good.

This Friday I had my party and held a cocktail one, I love cocktails but cannot go and have them in bars, so I decided to bring them to me. It was also a good excuse to wear one of my nice dresses that I haven't had the chance to yet.

Typically I wasn't ready for the party it started despite having spent the afternoon cleaning and getting ready, when my first guests arrived I was in the bathroom getting dressed. Thankfully Oz had helped me set up and played the role of host. Soon enough I had drinks in all my guests hands and was playing the role of good hostess. I quickly discovered a real advantage to having a bloke at a cocktail party - you can steal their drinks with no feelings of guilt, and so get to try far more. I did try a few of my female friends ones, but it was more fun to nick Oz's, I got to cuddle up to him in the process.

Despite inviting plenty of Americans very few turned up and I had loads of international students in my apartment. This meant that when I lit the candles on my birthday cake I had happy birthday sung in not just English but Japanese, French and Dutch. I was dunk enough to really appreciate the variety. My party quickly got very busy and popular, and just as quickly people got very drunk. I am forever indebted to my English next door neighbour for getting far more pissed than me, apparently she was falling over so her boyfriend took her home. The last few hours of the party seemed to disappear, and before I knew it there was only 6 of us left, but for some reason the bathroom door was locked and no one knew who was inside. Five minutes later a very drunk Dutch guy stumbled out leaving vomit in the sink, lovely.

The next morning I awoke late to a messy apartment and a slight hangover. I had to be in Santa Barbara a few hours later so quickly got dressed and tried to tidy up. I discovered that a had no vodka or Bacardi left and very, very little Bombay sapphire, which is the only alcohol I really cared for. Ahh well, I'll just have to get Oz to buy me some. It had been a great party.

Sequoia - sun and snow

Oz and I were lucky enough to get a space on the Excursion clubs Sequoia National Park and last Friday we finally set out. We met our driver and fellow passenger at 6pm and were disappointed to discover that it would apparently take 6 hours to get to the park. I've been here over two and a half months and still the sheer scale of America astounds me. We finally arrived at midnight and it was pretty cold, although over the course of the weekend it got a lot colder. Thankfully some people had set off a lot earlier than us and had set the tents up already, so we all climbed into a tent and quickly failed to get that much sleep. Unfortunately the tent we had chosen to sleep in had a faulty zip, we could not close the door, I improvised with some string and a pack, but the door was wide open and made it far colder than necessary.

When I gave up on the idea of getting any more sleep and crawled out of the tent to a beautiful view. We were in a valley surrounded by tall fir trees. Oz and I went for a walk and found a stunning creek and massive rock. It was lovely.

Soon enough everyone else woke up and we had a small breakfast and set off. The pack didn't feel too heavy at first, but after only a mile going pretty much straight uphill I really felt it. At certain points I only was able to keep going thanks to Oz's encouragement and him holding my hand. I was really excited when I saw a sign telling us it was only 1.7 miles left, but that was the longest 1.7 miles I've ever walked. It was really steep and took well over an hour to climb, it was the hardest physical thing I have ever done. I was so pleased to get to the top and our campsite. I dumped my bags and had a half-hearted look around, I was too tired to do much.

That evening we got a fire going and sat around it warming our cold, sore selves. It got dark around five and there was no point in staying awake that long, it was the first time in years that I've been in bed by eight.

That night I got even less sleep than I had the night previously. I had spent the night listening to the rain coming down and the moment it stopped I got up. I looked around to see some snow on our tent and puddles underneath others. Oz and I were very lucky to not get flooded, a few of the tents did and as our tent had a washing line built into the inside and so ours became a drying tent with the wet sleeping bags drip drying. This meant that we had no cover or anywhere dry to sit the whole day. But at least we had the nice warm feeling inside that we'd done something good. I also had the feeling of freezing feet that night due to my sleeping bag soaking up a small patch of water that we had failed to dry properly. I slept even better that night...

On the Sunday the weather started slightly snowy and declined considerably over a few hours. When I got out of my tent the only snow (besides on my tent) was on the nearby rock face. However by the next day the snow was really deep and our outside toilet looked like this. I know that it doesn't look like the best toilet in the world, and sure, there was ice on the seat, but the view was the best I've ever had from a toilet, don't you agree?

When we left on Monday the snow was still thick on the ground, but the sun was out on the snow was slowly melting. However when we left there was still several inches of snow on the ground and we could barely see the trail we were supposed to be walking. It was really slippery and we couldn't see the rocks that littered the trail. The guy who was leading us had forgotten his walking boots and was doing it all in skate shoes that barely had any grip, I have no idea how he didn't end up breaking his ankle. I found it hard enough to have the energy to notice my surroundings, it was hard enough to be able to safely put one foot in front of the other, move forward and breathe. I knew that my surroundings were beautiful, but I was too tired to notice them.

I was so pleased to finally get down the mountain, but walking without my pack was really hard, my pack wasn't evenly balanced and I almost fell over getting rebalanced. We had eaten really badly the whole weekend and that day all we had eaten was two tiny packets of porridge, half a tangerine and a small handful of trail mix (raisins and nuts). After walking 8 miles we were ravenous and Oz was especially hungry, he was eating peanut butter straight from the jar. However it was four hours before we were able to have a meal.

Before we headed home we went to see General Sherman, the worlds largest tree. That's largest, not biggest or widest - it is the tree with the most wood. It is just a massive tourist attraction, there is a two metre wide tarmacked path to get down there and fences keep the tourists away from the big trees. There were loads of tourists having pictures taken next to it, American smiles abounded. Oz was really excited about seeing it, he wanted to hug it, however he was prevented by the big fence. Ultimately General Sherman is just a big tree, I was unimpressed.

After General Sherman we set off home along the windy road. About halfway down Oz was feeling sick due to his ears not stabilising and we had to stop for a little while. When we started off again our driver realised the breaks weren't working. They had broken and if it wasn't for Oz feeling ill they'd have broken halfway down the slope and we'd have driven off the road. Unfortunately the small car park we had broken down in had no mobile phone reception and the payphone was broken. We asked a driver to inform the rangers of our situation, but we had no way to know if they had done it or not. After a while of waiting with no news we decided that one of the other passengers and I should hitch-hike to the nearest town and phone the American AA. We got a lift with a young LA couple, but we didn't get nearly as far as expected, when we got to the gate we asked the ranger about breakdown advice and discovered that our car brakes were just over heated and the ranger helped them slowly and carefully down. We got out of the car and waited for our car for half an hour. The brakes were OK, but we had to go really slowly and so it took us about 9 hours to get home.

We decided to stop off at the first restaurant we came to and have a massive meal as we were all really hungry and the lack of food was beginning to make us feel ill. We ended up somewhere called Riverview restaurant in a tiny town called Three Rivers. It was real America, the restaurant looked more like a cafeteria and had a seedy looking attached bar. I had a top sirloin with fries and it was really good. The guy who hitch-hiked with me ordered a pizza and a sandwich with fries, he finished neither but still had a dessert, which he also did not finish. It was so wasteful. The meal was really appreciated by all of us and it gave the brakes ample time to cool down.

After that the journey was fairly straight forward and we got back about midnight. It felt so good to get into the shower and actually be clean for the first time that weekend. This morning I awoke really sore but I have some great memories of that weekend.

Mid-term excitement

The reason I haven't been blogging that much recently is simple - its to do with a simple little thing called mid-terms. In your English brains you probably think this means something exciting like half-term holidays and I have been too busy travelling to keep in touch. Au contraire. I have been stuck inside revising for tests. Only its not called revising over here, its called plain old studying. Well let me tell you that I am plain old tired of "studying". And I intend to let my frustrations out in this blog.

I feel like I haven't had a weekend since this term began. Each week Arabic gives us loads of homework, plus other subjects give us readings and the result is that I don't get to relax or travel. Its beginning to wear me down a bit and I better get the opportunity soon or I will create one myself by ignoring all my work and just hibernating. It is concerning that it is only Monday and I'm already calling for a weekend, I usually get to Wednesday before begging for one.

I'm used to having exams once a year, over here they are six times a year (or eight if you go to summer school). There is what feels like constant tests. I'm not too good at revising, I like to have something more specific to aim my work at, for example an essay. Revising everything is too broad and I get distracted easily. However over here I have no choice but to study (and procrastinate!).

I'm getting good at procrastination. Today being bonfire night I decided to reassert my Englishness in anyway I could, unfortunately I have no garden to have a bonfire and no fireworks to set off, so I made toffee apples. They were yummy and made me feel British. I've also been frequently distracted by the TV (we have about 200 channels - way too many) and Oz, who I invite over when I know I shouldn't.

I had my first midterm of this block (I had an Anthropology one two weeks ago) this afternoon. It was Arabic and going into it I was pretty sure I was going to fail. However it turned out to be much easier than expected and I think I passed. Sure, I couldn't remember number 4 or 9, but beyond that I filled in everything.

Tomorrow I have a modernity and secularisation exam and am fairly concerned about that. Our lecturer is very intellectual and gives us readings to do that seemingly don't relate in anyway to the topic and then goes off on massive tangents, yet still expects us to have a detailed knowledge of the subject. I went to a study group today and one of the guys there had some really detailed notes and he helped flesh all the gaps in mine out, I'm now feeling fairly confident. The guy kept using the analogy of his being naked to explain Freud's sublimation, so its fairly likely that I'll wake up tonight dreaming of him dancing naked in the rain, thankfully he's hot and so it won't be too much of a hardship. That study group went on for three hours and I'm now knackered, all I want to do is to doze in front of the TV, however my room mate is studying on the floor in front of it, so its kind of out of use at the moment. So instead I'm writing to you lovely people.

Changing tact entirely the weather has been bad here lately, and I mean October in England bad. There had been a thick cloud that has been really low and cold hovering over IV for a few days making everywhere really cold, and with ridiculously thin walls it is cold inside houses. Girls are walking around in ugg boats (that's ugg for uggly), they clearly think its freezing, its not, but it is decidedly cold. However today it broke and the sun came out. Not before I had gone shopping online (I'm too busy to shop in person) and brought myself a winter coat and long sleeved tops. Seeing as the weather has improved I may have jumped the gun and so am in the process of persuading Oz that we should go somewhere really cold for Christmas so I can wear my new coat. I'm thinking a nice cabin in Yosemite, it would snow!!!

This weekend I'm going backpacking in the Sequoia national park with the excursion club and Oz, should be good fun, although really hard as we've got to walk miles with all our stuff (tents, food, etc) on our backs, plus bear cans - containers that smelly stuff goes into that bears can't get into - we're in bear country. Apparently its going to be very cold, so I've had to buy thermals and polar fleeces, scarfs and jumpers (which is another reason to go to Yosemite for Christmas - I want my moneys worth!). Should be great fun though. Although its another weekend with no lie ins.

Happy Halloween!

Halloween has at last arrived, after days of partying (not by me, I actually want to pass my degree) All Hallows Eve is finally here. I had presumed that it was purely a night thing, but I clearly was forgetting that I'm in America, and here it is taken very seriously. It seemed like a day like any other as I rushed late to my class, however when I entered I suddenly saw one of my class mates was about 7 months pregnant, which I hoped I would have noticed, however it was a Halloween costume. Great practical joke, should I play on Oz? Would be very funny, but also very cruel, I can almost see the look of pure panic across his eyes before he realises that I can't be seven months pregnant from him. In Arabic we had a giant penguin and two renaissance ladies (they are room mates - it wasn't a costume clash). Apparently I was very brave to walk up to one of the renaissance ladies and say, "Oh, you've dressed up for Halloween!," I didn't realise how easily it could have backfired, although she did say that she sometimes wears the costume at the weekends. I'm very glad I survived unscathed.

When I went to the supermarket this afternoon I was surprised to see lots of the workers in fancy dress, I couldn't really see the point to it, but I did have one of the T-birds as my cashier, and a hippy pack my bags, so I guess I should be grateful, was certainly more interesting than their usual boring attire.

When I was at the supermarket I actually brought some sweets for any trick or treaters, there are quite a few families near by, however none have come to the door yet and I've got to leave soon, so looks unlikely that I'll give any out. When I was cycling back from the supermarket I think I saw an organised trick or treat by the elementary school. There were tiny children being led around in long rows to nearby residence halls. I would have thought that the residence halls would have been safe from trick or treaters, but apparently not.

I have to admit it is all quite fun, if rather pointless, its a bit like children in need, without the children in need (besides being in need of some sweets that is!).

I think some Americans are going to have Halloween withdrawal, so many shops have been decorated Halloween style for over the past month it will be strange seeing them taken down. Even my landlords office was at it. In a few hours I shall be donning my cave girl outfit again ready to go to a few parties and ignore (for a few hours at least) how much work I've got to do.

Racism

My own dear sister has accused me of being racist and I would like to protest that accusation. Whilst I admit my comments about America can be scathing they are generally sweeping statements made because it is more interesting than going on about my everyday experiences I have and the Americans I get on well with. In my Arabic class, for instance, I have made many nice American friends, although it is difficult to continue that friendship outside of the classroom because they already have existing friendship groups and this is a problem that I have encountered everywhere, not just America, it is not because I'm racist.

Looking back over my first Halloween blog when I mentioned the party my English neighbour held it may have sounded like there were no Americans there, on the contrary, my host and I were the only English people there and besides Oz all the rest were American. I got on with them better because neighbour has nicer, more intelligent, friends.

If I was writing this blog about England I would just as quickly mention similar things as I have here, if anyone is doing anything strange, interesting, stupid, whatever, I feel quite right in mentioning it. It is not because they are American.

If I have sounded racist I apologise, that was never my intention, I get on with some Americans very well, and others not so well, but I have similar experiences in England with the English.

I have been here over two months now and on the whole have found Americans to be very nice, when visiting their houses I have found them to be most gracious hosts and whenever I have needed help they have been more than kind. My impression of America is constantly improving, but that is not to say that I will be applying for citizenship at the end of this year.

Having said that, however, if you ever feel I'm being racist do put it in a comment and tell me. I love getting comments and was quite excited that someone had slagged off my blog.

Halloween night 2

Last night I went out again, but this time it wasn't as good. For a start Oz wasn't with me and secondly I ended up in a big group, big groups make it difficult to get into parties or make decisions. We failed to get into any parties, they had all ended before we even got there, and we were everywhere before 11pm (American parties seem to start early and end early). It got really frustrating, particularly when our friend joined us doing a great impression of a very drunk monk.

As you can see from the photo (I've finally worked out how to add them!)I went as an American girl last night, I appreciated the irony even if not many other people understood the joke.

After several hours of wondering around and getting v.cold I got a call from some other friends and went to join them on DP. Unlike Friday DP was crazily busy, it was necessary to weave our way through everyone and we had to hold hands so as not to get separated. On the sides of the road there were lots of people being arrested and I even saw some paramedics running with a stretcher. Thankfully I experienced neither service first hand.

I was freezing and had several layers on, I don't know how the girls who were literally in their underwear managed it. For your delectation I include a photo, just to prove what it was really like, any guesses as to what she may be dressed as? My vote goes for hooker. By contrast I was dowdy.


It was good fun walking past all the interesting costumes, there were guys dressed as giant penises (there were drunken girls almost queueing up to have their photo taken with them), kissing booths, DUIs (Driving Under the Influence notices), as well as the raft of girls wearing very little. I never knew until last night that Snow White's skirt was very, very short, which explains why the Seven Dwarfs and Prince Charming were quite so enamoured with her.

I ran into an Australian girl and was surprised to see she'd really gotten in to the spirit of things, her bra was poking above her mafia outfit and the skirt was minuscule. I am amazed she managed to really get into the spirit of things, I really can't understand why Americans are so prudish for most of the year and then for Halloween it all goes out of the window and they feel they can legitimately walk around in their underwear. For example I have been sharing a room for almost six weeks now but have never once seen my room mate get changed, she always goes to the bathroom. It wasn't until Friday night when she was dressed as an army girl that I discovered she had her belly button pierced. She goes from usually wearing baggy t-shirts and shorts to having it all hang out. I find it hard to understand why they suddenly want to. I don't particularly want to be perved on by a bunch of salivating American youths, thank you very much. This seems to be a very American thing that does not make any sense to me or most other international students.

In the end I did have a good time, and I'm looking forward to Halloween itself, even if I have got classes the next day.

Halloween, night one.

It's Saturday morning and I'm writing this from the library, I am not, however, a swot, I'm just forced out of my apartment by Halloween. By pure chance I have ended up in one of the most famous party universities in the whole of the US and IV is particularly known for Halloween. Most normal people think that Halloween is a one day "holiday" (I hate that American term - if its a holiday then give us a day off!), however IV residents know better, why have a single day of drunken debauchery when you can have at least a week? And this year Halloween falls on a Wednesday and so instead of having just one weekend to party we get two (+ midweek of course).

Halloween in IV is so famous that people come from a long way around to experience it. My room mate has 4 guests who refuse to let me get a moments peace. From the moment they entered the apartment yesterday afternoon loud music went on which magnified my slight headache, they then proceeded to take over the main living area and my bedroom. I had no where to go and not enough time to go and do my homework anywhere else. To say I was pissed off is an understatement. Eventually I was able to escape to Oz's.

Halloween was certainly a big event. When Oz and I returned to my apartment to put our costumes on (he had completely failed to come up with a costume - thankfully there was a spare male costume lying around) I was astonished to see loads of people (around 15) squashed around the kitchen table playing some drinking game that involved hitting hands on the table and yelling. By the time I had got changed (evolutionary regression into a cave girl takes a while) a full blown party had started. Having only had a beer I felt far too sober for all this and gladly went to our fridge and a few jello shots that had been made earlier. I don't like my room mates friends at the best of times, particularly not when they are plastered and I am only mildly pissed. Her male friends tend to be stoner idiots with whom it is impossible to to have a conversation with on anything other that alcohol, drugs or sex. Her female friends tend to be high pitched, and most importantly, American. Thankfully my English next door neighbour was hosting her own Halloween party and I was only to grateful to escape next door, her friends were much easier to get on with.

Eventually Oz and I made our not entirely sober way down to where the party really happens, Del Playa Drive, affectionately known as DP. Its the road right next to the ocean and once we had made our way past the police barricades we got onto the floodlit road. All around us were women wearing very little (some were literally just wearing their underwear), there were people dressed as bongs, sailors, naked men (with fake penis), a variety of furry animals (wear a pair of knickers, a basque and a pair of said animal ears et voila - sexy mouse/cat/bunny/whatever), police men, guys dressed as gifts from God (a present with a label reading: To Women, from God), army girls and whatever other skimpy costume you can think of. I was fairly unimpressed by DP, it wasn't nearly as busy as I had been told it could be and there was no music playing.

Oz was getting really tired so we went back to my place and he almost begged to stay over to avoid the five minute walk to his place, but I kicked him out saying it wasn't fair for my room mate to have a strange man in the same room as her. Unfortunately my room mate didn't extend the same courtesy to me and I awoke at 4.30am to the sounds of her boyfriend snoring loudly. I was unable to get back to sleep and had to leave the room and sleep on the living room floor so I awoke fairly earlier and got out as soon as I could to avoid the American girls.

I haven't represented the true extent of IV Halloweens, I think that only a bit of history and some crime statistics will suffice. IV has held a damn good Halloween since at least the mid 1960s, but in the 70s there were riots and people burnt down a bank and the police actually shot and killed some students. That was how IV gained its Halloween notoriety and huge police presence (including police on horseback). This year there will somewhere in the region of 150-200 police officers on the street every night ready to arrest people for a raft of offences - Driving Under the Influence (they were doing spot checks for this one), Drug use, Public Intoxication (only if someone is acting v.drunk, they don't have enough cells for everyone who was intoxicated), Minor in Possession (Under 21 with alcohol), Sexual Offences (People have been raped, I was v.glad to be there with Oz) and possessing open containers of alcohol. This week our student paper has been full of advice about how to avoid getting arrested and dire warnings about the penalties (usually at least a years driving ban, which seeing as I can't drive doesn't bother me at all). Last years Halloween Weekend there were 290 citations, 291 arrests and 40 hospital visits. The police had set up at least one emergency medical tent complete with at least 5 stretchers. Its all a little bit scary. But I survived last night without getting arrested or injured. Hope I succeed tonight...

I fell in to a burning ring of fire....

Well, not quite a burning ring of fire, more a burning state, and the falling in is more flying in, but large parts of Southern California (or SoCal as they like to call it) are on fire. Santa Barbara county is the northern most county with wild fires, but they thankfully haven't come anywhere near me, although they've still affected me in strange ways.

On Saturday morning I looked out and saw beautiful blue sky's and a big pile of work and being an inventive person I combined the two by taking my work down to the beach. I quickly realised that it was v.windy, but being a stubborn person I continued on regardless, bravely holding my miniskirt down as I walked. By the time I got down to the beach my hair was everywhere, but I was mollified by the fact that the wind had created good surf for once and I was able to watch hot surfers whilst pretending to study. Oz soon joined me so I was able to check someone out even closer by.

I realised that the Channel Islands weren't very visible, and with them being only 40 miles away and mountainous they are usually visible. I wasn't shocked by this until at about 4 pm I looked up from my books (in between the perving some studying actually happened) and realised I couldn't see them at all, and the oil rig that is about a mile or so away wasn't particularly visible either. I assumed that the air was just dusty and that the dirt covering my shirt was just the dust that they call soil. When I got home I covered the bath with a thin layer of grime and forgot all about the dust.

On Sunday I awoke and cleaned of a fairly thick layer of dust off my bike seat, but I still failed to realise that what I thought was dust was in fact ash. Although the fires only started on Sunday the wind had swept up the ash from a previous fire and deposited it in the atmosphere. Very kind of it. This combined with the fires that were just starting and made my week very dirty.

UCSB have been so concerned about the fires that they sent everyone an email telling us to remain inside if at all possible along with a lot of other suggestions (for example, avoiding highways so the emergency services can use them) and everyday our student newspaper has printed more information.

There was so much ash in the atmosphere that I saw someone walking around campus wearing a dust mask, she was either trying to avoid getting dust in her lungs or trying to avoid the bad cold that was everywhere on campus and made the ash even more fun.

After a day of walking around in flip flops, which due to it being an overly warm week anyway (even by SoCal standards) were necessary, my feet were black, it was horrible, I had to wash not only my feet but also my flip flops. The ash was everywhere.

On the slightly positive side the weather was lovely and warm (not that we could leave the house unless necessary...) and on Wednesday night there was a beautiful orange moon as a result of the pollution.

It wasn't until yesterday evening that the ash began to lift and I could see the beautiful mountains that are only five miles away again.

The actuality of the fires hasn't really hit home, the news stations generally aren't very good and I've been too busy to watch TV anyway. It hasn't seemed real. I'm just glad that the fires came no closer to us.

MEGAchurches

One of my classes required me to go to a Megachurch (a church with 2,000+ regular worshippers) and write a paper on the experience. Here is the first draft that I would love to hand in because it gives a true account of my feelings on the subject, but is I fear, slightly too sarcastic. The final draft will be much, much more dull.

Apologies for American spellings and vocabulary, I have to use them in papers.

Feel free to grade me in the comments:

I knew that Calvary Chapel was going to be a posh church because whilst cycling there I was on the receiving end of many a catcall. Remembering that I was going to church I resisted retaliating lest I have to wash in holy water before being able to enter.

When I stepped into Calvary Chapel I felt as though I was on the set for a TV chat show instead of in a church, the converted warehouse was decorated to look like the sea side, offices were disguised as beach huts, there was a sea and beach hut mural on the walls and the “stage” had many beach related props from surf boards to barbecues. Even the seats were beach themed, instead of pews or seats they were benches painted white with a stripy cushion. There was even a camera pointing towards the stage. It couldn’t have looked less like a church if it had tried. The only thing that reassured me that I had not stepped into the wrong room was the worship music playing and people embracing each other and praying together. If it was designed to relax people it was not working for me, but then I was not there out of my own volition.

I arrived early due to bus times and sat in the back and kept myself to myself. The benches (not nearly as many as I was expecting) slowly began to fill up, but it was only when the lights dimmed, and a man sat down at a grand piano and a woman stood behind a microphone that people really began to fill up the benches and they quickly filled.

The opening sequence was carefully orchestrated, at first the man and the woman sang duets and praised the Lord by themselves and bit by bit we were encouraged to join in with them. The pianist was very good, it would almost be worth going to the service just to hear him play and the time quickly passed. Lots of people were clapping and raising their hands. Just before they finished the pianist gave a short sermon and got the stewards to come and collect the tithes and offerings. He prayed that the Lord would encourage people to put in lots of money and effectively guilted people into putting lots of money in. There was no exemption for visitors and from looking around it was clear to see that they made a lot of money from these collections, the women’s restroom was nicer than I have seen in hotels, it was spacious, had a couch, had a tiled floor and was very tastefully decorated and was a world away from the restrooms I’ve seen in other churches.

Following the offering there were several announcements, after which everyone clapped. They contained two other requests for money, one for Operation Christmas Child, where people fill shoeboxes full of Christmas presents and they get sound to children living in extreme poverty all over the world. They were very proud to have made it easy for everyone this year by having a stall at K-mart where you could get absolutely everything necessary for the shoeboxes. They also asked people to buy a big bag of candy for $5 for Halloween, although I failed to understand exactly what that benefited besides rotting children’s teeth and encouraging obesity.

The sermon followed next and it was part of their sermon series on successful marriages and happy families, they even had a banner hanging up saying “I want a better marriage” and there were various pictures of happy families hanging from the rafters. It centered on good parenting, and in particular being a good father, it began with some facts and figures about evangelical children today that the preacher interpreted in a very black light, but I thought was in fact very good, for example only 4% of evangelical young people believe the Bible to be the inspired and infallible word of God, I would say that it was good that they were thinking for themselves and realized that the Epistles were letters, not divine inspiration, as is a considerable part of the Bible. Clearly they are fundamental in their view of Christianity and I don’t get on well with fundamentalists. After he had finished scaremongering and talking about how evangelical parents can prevent the horrors of a morally relativistic child he moved on to reinforcing the sexism present in some parts of the Bible. He argued that most advice that the Bible gives about how to raise children was aimed at the father and therefore fathers should play a more active role in the upbringing of children. Now I agree wholeheartedly that fathers should play a larger role than a lot do, but I would disagree strongly that they should play the main role, parenting should be an equal partnership. He used lots of Bible verses to prove his point and topped it all off with a video of a happy family from the congregation talking about good parenting and how women should play the main role during childhood and the father take the leading role during adolescence, so basically they were encouraging that throughout their upbringing the children are alienated from one parent. Sounds like sound advice to me.

The service finished with some more music and an encouragement for struggling fathers to come forward and be prayed over. They also had a communal prayer during which the preacher asked all parents having a difficult time raising their children to put their hands up and be prayed for, a lot of hands immediately shot up and so the preacher resorted to “and I pray Lord that you be with those at the back, you know who they are,” etc. Then abruptly as it had started the service ended, exactly one hour after it had begun.

During that time I had only had contact with other people once, when the preacher instructed us all to greet one another. So I think I got off lightly, I really didn’t want to explain my religious beliefs to a stranger and even less wanted them to try and convert me. I left as quickly as possible, after a quick trip to the ridiculously posh restroom.

Bloody American desks and enforced immaturity

I know this is a very strange subject to write a blog on but the bloody American desks are really beginning to annoy me. They use those silly desk-chair combination things that you see on American TV shows that feature schools. The desk is more like a square tray that isn't quite as big as an A3 bit of paper and it is impossible to fit everything on the damn thing. I admit that I can be fairly clumsy and yesterday I most certainly was, in a single class I dropped about things about 5 times, pens, lids, screw top caps from water bottles, you name it and it tried to escape from my desk. They are slightly at an angle so things can easily roll off too. It restricts your movement so much that you have to ask your neighbours to pick things up for you.

They also jam as many desks in as possible, my Arabic teacher finds it difficult to walk between the rows because her bottom is too big, and shes not even fat. They also have them rammed up against each other to such a degree that the person sitting in front of me yesterday managed to knock my water bottle off my desk (thank God I'd put the lid on - I almost hadn't) by pushing her elbow back an inch. This also means that leg room is a a minimum and my legs frequently begin to cramp, I end up feeling like a squirming child.

I think that it may all be a government conspiracy to keep people slim, because you can't get that fat and still be able to sit in them, one (particularly obese) older woman has to sit on the floor in one of my classes. Seriously, she had to pay ridiculous tuition but has to sit on the floor.

At my home university they rent all the seminar rooms out as conference facilities, so it is all very posh and spacious, you get a proper, normal desk and a comfy chair, you can decide how close to the desk you sit and most importantly you get about 4 times the amount of space you do here. Heaven. Although I still do drop things, just not as frequently.

It makes me feel like a child sitting in those chairs/desk things, but its a feeling that I'm fast growing accustomed to. If you're under 21 you're treated like a second class citizen, and even Oz, who is 24, says he feels a lot younger here than in Australia. When people ask how old you are you get a look of pity when you admit "19" and I'm generally treated as though I'm less responsible. I don't quite know how to describe it, but there is just a general attitude that if you're under about 25/30 your still a child. I'm used to being treated like an adult in England, and it is a big annoyance to be treated as a child. Next month is my 20th birthday and instead of having a minor breakdown and suddenly feeling really old as one of my friends did ("My teenage years have passed me by and I never got to enjoy them - its only responsibility from here on in!") I find myself longing to be 20, being 20 is not nearly so bad as being 19, I will be closer to being 21 and people will respect me more for that, they'll probably still look down on me, but hopefully not as much.

If they continue to treat me like a child I may begin acting like one, which I'd really hate to do and hopefully will not happen. However, I have noticed that young Americans, particularly men, are a lot more immature than their European counterparts, but then if they are used to being treated like children what else is going to happen?

Dancing the night away

I have been desperate to dance for a while now, at home I go to nightclubs to dance, but because I'm under 21 I've been unable to do that since I've been in the US. However last night some Latin American sorority had a celebration or charity event, or something, in a nightclub and under 21s were allowed in. My Mexican friends invited me along and it felt so good to put on my heels, flirty dress and make up.

After 3 shots of tequila (forced down my throat by a Mexican guy)and a long wait for a cab we finally set off and arrived in Santa Barbara. When we walked in I looked around and everywhere I looked there were couples grinding against one another. At times it was really quite explicit, I didn't no where to look. There were four girls and two guys and soon enough other guys appeared around us, even though I didn't see any men by themselves. Despite the fact that they weren't single the girls I was with happily started dancing raunchily with these random men. I don't consider myself a prude, but that doesn't mean I want some unknown guys penis rubbing against my leg.

After a little while my over 21 friends went to the bar (which was out of bounds for under 21s) and I was left by myself as my other friend was busy grinding. I felt v.bored and quite fed up, so when a guy came up and asked to dance I agreed but v.quickly regretted it. Thankfully he didn't try to grind with me but he was a really bad dancer, his body was very stiff and he did not understand the concept of rhythm. It was painful to watch and got even worse when some salsa music started and he pulled me close and tried to salsa, although he did twirl me around a few times which always goes down well. Eventually I came up with an excuse and slipped away. If only Oz was there, but unfortunately he is ill.

Along with the grinding it was really hot and everyone was dripping with sweat, sexy. By 1.30am I was very glad when the lights came on and the night ended, however it was still three quarters of an hour before we worked out how to get home, there were eight of us and one car. The girls who were sorting it out were talking about it in Spanish and I had no idea what was going on. Eventually we got a lift with the DJ, one of the girls knew him and he had space for four of us in his big pick up truck. I was very grateful to get home and get to remove my shoes. Dancing is good fun but it is equally fun to climb into bed at the end of the night.

The daily commute

Everyday thousands of students cycle into campus despite living a short walk away. They are everywhere getting in pedestrians and motorists ways. Campus has lots of cycling lanes but every time you have to cross them you take your own life into your hands, running across them every time there is a 2 second gap. The cyclists never stop unless they are pretty sure they are going to hit someone. I was just leaving campus the other day when Oz called me and the distraction caused me to almost get run over, all Oz heard was "shit!".

Until yesterday I hadn't braved joining in with the cyclists, I valued my life too much, but I was running late for classes that always started early and so didn't feel I had much choice. Damn it was scary and frustrating, no one cycles that quickly, they frequently have the phone jammed under their ears chatting away (some Americans rarely seem to be without a phone attached to them, they can talk for hours, I can manage 2 minutes at most). They also don't understand how to use roundabouts, there are v.few in the US, but the campus cycle routes have several, they don't realise that if you're going to turn off you need to be in the outside and this frequently results in collisions or halts.

Cyclists reign in Isla Vista (the area next to campus where most students live), they pay no attention to the rules of the road, never stop when there is a stop sign and never ever signal. I'm very glad not to be a driver as they have an unofficial speed limit of 20 mph otherwise they will kill the cyclists who zooms straight across the intersection without looking. I dread to think what happens when someone unused to IV drives around it.

Added to the problems of errant cyclists there are the pedestrians who walk in the middle of the road. This is partially due to the fact that the sidewalks either don't exist or randomly stop and start - it is just easier to walk in the middle of the road. There is a running joke that if you want to spot freshmen (first years) just see who is walking on the sidewalk.

At night everything becomes a lot more difficult, the roads aren't that well lit, cyclists don't use lights and cars have to crawl around. I get quite scared about cycling at night, but then I too don't have lights and stick to the cycling lanes whenever possible.

If I survive this year without being hit it will be impressive.

Paddle, paddle, paddle your kayak

"Paddle, paddle, paddle your kayak,
Gently down the pacific,
Merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is but a dream."

The excursion club is great - for $35 for the year I get to go on some very low cost trips, student volunteers lead the trips and they own a lot of equipment so costs are exceptionally low. I came across the club and then found out that Oz was going as well so we got lost together on the way to the meeting (its a hard life...). We both joined the club and then signed up to a variety of their activities, although different ones. Today I went on my first excursion club trip (alone), I went sea kayaking for free. There were five of us there to go kayaking an Irish girl, one hot muscular American man and a geeky (but far nicer than the muscular one) and our instructor - an American girl. I was in a double kayak with the Irish girl and was very grateful to not be with muscular American guy who seemed like a complete idiot.

We headed south towards an oil rig in the hope of seeing some of the seals who like sitting on some big floats. When we got nearby we noticed that there was a oil tanker at the rig which made it unlikely that we would see the seals. The Irish girl and me we were very disappointed to hear this, but as we neared the floats we noticed some big fat seals. When we got closer the bull seals jumped into ocean and started yelling at us so we backed away fairly quickly, but I was so pleased to see some at long last.

On the way back we saw some massive kelp forests, there were huge plants that stretched down as far as the eye could see and were a huge varieties of colours (apparently that's why there are no great white sharks - they are very wary of getting stuck there, I am highly grateful of the kelp). We also saw a bird suddenly dive and emerge a bit later with fish. On good days it is possible to see the seabed with starfish and occasionally a dolphin.

It was so relaxing just floating along looking at the beautiful turquoise sea. It got me thinking about just how lucky I was to be here. A year ago I was just starting Uni and would have laughed if anyone would have suggested I'd be in California a year later, and yet I'm here now. I am very lucky.

This evening my room mate finally invited people around and she did it in style, about 15 people came around and got very drunk very quickly. All the American girls got particularly drink and their voices quickly become high pitched and grating. They were all going to a soccer match and I was invited, but the idea of spending lots of time with high pitched Americans was too much for me. Apparently they are coming here soon. In fact they are here now, so I better go.

Lets go Gauchos! Lets go!

Yesterday night I went to the first "soccer" game of the season, UC Santa Barbara vs UC Irvine. It was a very strange experience - there was real stadium seating with steep wet steps to walk down that had no grip and made everything very dangerous. I was bemused to see the Irvine supporters standing next to the UCSB supporters - a fight could have broken out so easily! But having said that much to my disappointment there was very little hooliganism, I only heard the occasional slur or booing towards Irvine, no derogatory chants! It felt far too sophisticated.

The Americans kept sticking their hands up and wiggling their fingers whenever we had a corner or penalty and it took me quite a while to discover that it meant luck - it felt more like we were waving at a child or trying to do some magic. Very strange. They were also throwing tortillas due to our team (The Gauchos) inventing some move or something or the other, I'm not entirely sure, but tortillas make very good frisbees.

Occasionally a chant would break out such as "Lets go Gauchos, lets go!" or some such, I found it hard to hear exactly what they were saying and just as I worked out what they were saying they finished. The chants ended far too quickly, no chance to really get into it. There were however four girls wearing bikinis with "UCSB" written on their stomachs in big letters and lots of people were wearing our college colours, there was even someone dressed as a native American.

For someone who doesn't actually watch "soccer" I have managed to pick up a lot over the years and was able to keep an eye on the game, I generally knew what was happening and was able to make intelligible comments and sounds ("oohhhhh!"). But I still don't know the offside rule and Oz, who was there as well, wasn't able to help. Little steps.

The game was a little bit onesided as we won the national championship last year and so there was little competion. We had close to 20 shots, they had about 4. We won 4 nil. Three goals were scored in the first half and so the game had basically been won already, the Gaucho's didn't really try in the second half and it got quite boring. I'm not sure if I'll go to another match anytime soon, but I'm glad I went.

Rule Britannia!

I'm feeling patriotic, which is a very rare occurance for me. In part it has been brought on by the experience of living in another country but its main cause was watching the Michael Moore film Sicko. The film is about just how bad the American health care system is and there are lots of examples of just how diabolical it really is (people dying because their health insurance refused to pay out for something that the patient really needed). That made me very glad not to be American, but it was only when Moore decided to go to the UK to see how good we have it that I felt truly patriotic. I'm so proud of the good old NHS.

It started off its Britain section very well with an interview by my favourite politican, Tony Benn, who explained exactly why it is so good. Hearing his crisp public school accent was fantastic and took me back to the home country. I couldn't help almost yelling "Tony Benn!!" the moment his face filled the screen, in all likelihood I was the only person in the cinema to recognise him, but they'll learn. I did spend part of the way home proudly telling some of my Dutch friends that he had refused his title.

As well as talking to Tony Benn Moore also went to actually see the NHS in action and I got to reminice about waiting times and MRSA (not that he mentioned either) as well as hearing some more British accents. The audience actually laughed at one womans accent, I was affronted. Moore (and the audience) were amazed to find that people got reimbursed for travelling expenses if they were too poor, it just made my chest swell with British pride.

To give you a well rounded picture of the film they also went to Canada, France and Cuba to see their wonderful free healthcare systems, I'm sure that anyone from those countries watching the film would feel similarly to me (except perhaps the whole Tony Benn thing).

After the film ended it recieved a round of applause (the Americans like to applaud everything) and I went home happy. On the way back I cycled (on my newly fixed bike) on the left hand side of the deserted cycle track and went around the cycling roundabout (I've only seen one motorist roundabout) twice, the wrong way. All in all it was a good night and almost had me singing Rule Britannia (or should it be Rule NHS?).

Classes and extracurricular activites

My classes started on Thursday and so far they've been a very mixed bag. My first ever American lecture felt much more like a sixth form class than a lecture - there are only 35 people in the class and the lecturer expects us to constantly ask questions. It was an introductory lecture and so I learnt nothing besides the syllabus. The first thing he actually taught us was that the plural of syllabus was not syllabi because putting an "i" on the end of a word to pluralise it was a Latin thing and syllabus was originally Greek, and this was a Religious Studies class. Another interesting but largely useless fact to add to my collection.

My second lecture was no where near as fun as my first, instead of learning irrelevent facts I was learning Arabic (which you could argue for most people is irrelevent) and they went straight into it, no introductory lecture. I walked in on time but the class had already started and there were no seats left, in fact several people were already standing up. I had to stand too close to the board and at a bad angle so I could see very little of what he was writing, and I was expected to copy it. Again it was more like a class than a lecture, he asked us all random questions and so we were expected to be on the ball all the time, no chance for a sneaky nap in this class. I actually learnt how to daydream first in French class, but I must fight the impulse in Arabic. I'm used to finding classes quite easy and this blows me away, it is so difficult, but it is good to really struggle at times and so I shall persevere. Incidently having done some of the homework (all lectures have given me homework already) I can now spell and pronounce my first word - door, which I'm sure will prove really useful. "Shut that baab!"

Yesterday I had what I would describe as my first real lecture, Introduction to Cultural Anthroplogy, with 900 other students! I got in a few minutes early (I'm learning quickly that spaces fill up fast and lectures start early) to a v.large and fairly packed lecture theatre. I actually heard someone complain that all the seats at the front are taken! I'm used to hearing the opposite. I found a seat fairly easily next to some freshman girl who seemed adverse to any form of conversation, but a lot of other people weren't as lucky as I was and had to spend quite a while walking around looking in vain for a single seat by itself and if they found one they had to squeeze past lots of people to get there. I felt particularly sorry for one guy who clearly had problems socialising (you can often just tell by how they look - how they hold themselves, the clothes they where, etc, this guy had a really bad mullet which is saying something) and it took him ages to find a seat, but at least he got one, not everyone was so lucky. The lecture started with a clip of Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street which is usually a good omen, however not in this case, it was a really tedious introductory lecture and I was surrounded by freshmen and felt old (which incedently made a nice change - being under 21 I'm constantly made to feel young). I was very glad to get out of there. Hopefully it will improve soon.

After all that hardwork some extracurricular activities were in order and at a boring coffee afternoon with other international students I got invited to a birthday party and how could I refuse? But I didn't go straight to the party, I went to an amateur improvisation comedy club first, it was really funny, after an hour and a half of comedy that included a guy appearing from between some poor girls legs, horror stories from a political rally and racoons the show ended and I went to the party.

None of my close friends were there when I arrived and I ended up talking to an Aussie bloke for ages, I'd met him a few times before and knew he was a nice guy but somehow he morphed in front of my eyes into a hot nice guy, which is always appreciated and I'm pleased to say (particularly to my concerned gran) that it wasn't alcohol making that happen, I only had a single beer. The party ended when the host decided she wanted to go down to DP (the main party street) and crash a party so we were kicked out of the apartment. Oz and I ended up going with a big group to DP but felt awkward about the crashing, so we ended up walking down to the beach (I love living so close to the ocean!) and paddling before stargazing. It is concerning that Oz, who was brought up in the southern hemisphere was able to recognise constellations that I couldn't. I think I need to do some more stargazing, preferably with a book to guide me. Eventually we wandered back to mine, arranged to meet again the next day and said goodbye. Somehow it was 1.30am, last thing I knew it was 11pm.

After not getting nearly enough sleep I awoke at the bright and early time of 9am and got ready to go cycling in the mountains with Oz. Having just got a bike (with gears!) I was dying to try it out and Oz happens to be a keen cyclist. When we got to the foothills I quickly realised that my gears were useless, the hills weren't that steep but it was really hard work. I'm used to having a cog that goes lower than my new bike and it was nightmareish. There was Oz with his flash mountain bike showing off and there I was red in the face and struggling for breath, which was attractive! Our map was fairly useless, it was free and so there were ads covering the mountains. The first road we tried turned out to be a dead end at the foothills, but going down I learned a valuable lesson about my bike - the breaks were too loose. I jammed my breaks on full but the bike would not stop so I yelled "shit!shit!shit!shit!" in an attempt to warn Oz but he didn't understand what I was saying and it was only when the road went uphill slightly and I came to a halt that he understood and was able to tell me exactly what was wrong, which was useful but did not fix them.

We decided to go on up the mountains regardless and eventually found the right path but I gave up pushed my bike fairly quickly - I felt it was better than being sick. We didn't make it even that close to the real mountains but found a beautiful view, sat down and chatted. It was really nice, and once again time elapsed very quickly. I was not overly excited to get back on the bikes and return when we decided to, more because I was saddle sore than anything else, I need a new saddle if I intend to do anymore real cycling. When we eventually got back to his to have lunch I was very grateful to disembark.

I had planned to do lots of homework, but I'm too tired after the ride and so have been wasting away the rest of my afternoon on the internet. Arabic can always wait another day.

American morning chatshows - a hotbed of right-wing views?

When I've just woken up of a morning my brain function is minimal and my sociability level even lower so instead of attempting to make polite conversation with my flat mates I put on the TV and after a failed search for any news I give up and watch one of the many morning chat shows that are on American cable.

This morning after being rudely awoken by an overly loud dustbin lorry I gave up any further hopes of sleeping and ate breakfast with the TV on, what I found kind of shocked me. At about 8am they were discussing the use of taser guns (just in case you don't know a taser gun fires something like 50,000 volts of electricity at someone) and the atypical dumb blonde presenter was entirely defending their use, despite the fact that someone very high up in Amnesty International was telling her that he knew of at least 270 taser related deaths and about 3 that have conclusive coroners reports that prove the tasers killed people. The blonde even replied, "How many times have they been used? Over 700,000? Well its not that high a risk," dear God woman people have been killed - doesn't matter what the percentage is the risk is there!

Even worse that this was the case of a student getting tasered for asking a few too many questions at a political rally - he isn't being violent but the police go in to arrest him anyway, when he understandably resists arrest and the 19 police officers around fail to be able to cuff him they taser him. It was widely covered on the news and you can actually hear his screams of pain. Go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCBcOQkUNjI to see one of the news reports. Dumb blonde continues to support the use of tasers even after they feature two women who have been affected by them - one who was mistakenly identified as a suspect and tasered 3 times another whose brother dies after being tasered 9 times. And yet dumb blonde continues with her opinion and helpfully comments, "well its better than being shot."

As well as Amnesty guy and dumb blonde there was also a male presenter who was wisely taking the middle ground, the inventor (who just happened to be wearing a stars and stripes tie) and a police trainer. The inventor, trainer and blonde failed to realise that force is not necessary in arresting people, that there are far better ways to do it. They also failed to accept that 5000 volts going through someones body is getting to leave some sort of damage, how could it not? As you can tell this rather riled my liberal feathers.

A few days previously I had seen a TV advert (in the morning) that was anti-immigration that blamed all of California's problems (lack of schools, too many cars, overcrowding, etc) on immigration - which basically boils down to Mexicans. What they failed to mention was that Mexicans do all the jobs that Californians do not want to do - cleaning, waitressing, bus driving, taxi drivers, bin men and any other job you can think of that does not require qualifications. There is a very big Mexican population in Southern California, on the bus most signs and adverts are translated into Spanish and Mexican restaurants are everywhere, but this is not necessarily a bad thing. If you fancy making your blood boil go to http://www.cap-s.org/newsroom/recent_advertising.html and watch the cute child spout right wing propaganda.

Seeing as whilst I am on a non-immigrant visa I may as well be an immigrant I'll have to keep a look out for locals with pitchforks (and possibly taser guns!) and keep an eye on the police because I am a student who likes to ask awkward questions and we know they don't like them.

"Do Alpha Chi Omega!"

Perhaps against my better judgement (and certainly my bank balance) I signed up for sorority Rush (Recruitment) week. I was compelled to do so by a mixture of Anthropological curiosity for the very American stereotypical oddity, an idea that there are religious sororities that I could join to do my dissertation on and boredom. So I signed up and paid the $50 which I thought might at least get me a reasonable amount of food (but oh no, all I got was a very small BBQ burger and a tote bag - the money really goes on hotel rooms for the over 50 girls who've disaffiliated themselves from their sororities so they can help us find the right sorority for us, apparently this means they can't go home - bloody ridiculous). As you can tell I'm now having second thoughts but the thrifty side of me wants to get as much use out of that $50 as possible.

The week started at 10am with a "Meet and Greek" (yes the puns are that bad) where big groups of girls who presumably went to high school together chatted whilst those who knew no one walked around uncomfortably looking for others in the same situation to chat with. Eventually we made it into a big lecture theatre where we were informed of the rules for this week (the more ridiculous ones included not taking anything from sorority house - including napkins -, no alcohol to be consumed for the entire week, and no talking to any fraternity boys) and shown a crap video highlighting all these ("America's next top potential new member" - they copied America's Next Top Model). I have already broken these rules, but I'll leave you to decide which of the heinous crimes it was.

After this we went to have a BBQ that somehow lacked an actual BBQ - the food had been delivered in metal trays. There were some guys DJing (were they frat boys - did someone already break their own ridiculous rules?) and little burgers bun about half the size they should be with pieces of pork instead of actual burgers. Two Aussie girls that I apparently know (I met far too many people last week and my memory is crap) came up and said hi to me and an American girl I was hanging around with, and so we passed a little time before quickly disappearing.

That was not enough for one day as far as the sororities were concerned - they wanted to take up our evening as well. We met up again at 6.30 and were given our tote bags (which are quite cute - if only they didn't say "Be you. Be Greek." on them. We were put into groups of about 10 and given a recruitment counsellor to guide us through the week. We went to 4 sorority houses yesterday night and they were all very scary. To intimidate us they made us stand outside for a good 15 minutes prior to letting us in and it was a cold night with some of the potential new members (such a long winded name) wearing only shorts and a top. After our recruitment counsellors showed us the house's "burst" which is a little song and dance telling us how wonderful the sorority is (one of the lines was really "Do Alpha Chi Omega!" - which to me sounds rude) that really just scared me. Some of our contingent (mainly the ex-cheerleaders) loved it though.

Worse was to come. When the doors finally opened we were greeted with a highly choreographed greeting routine that would not have looked out of place in the Sound of Music. All the girls had big false grins and were stood on the steps of the stairs in matching outfits (either a bright white miniskirt or hotpants and white shoes with their sororities coloured t-shirt). It was sick making, particularly when the president and recruitment chair greeted us by finishing off each others sentence. They shook our hands as we walked in in two lines and were introduced to someone who was basically interviewed us. They led us off into a room (I was taken to the date room - yes that's right, they have a whole room dedicated to keeping their dates comfortable when they keep them waiting) and we sat down had had a nice chat with someone wearing far too much makeup. After a while one of the people who had been walking around like a teacher on a power trip (standing straight up, hand behind back) touched the person I was chatting to, kneeled down next to us and took over from the original interrogator. After a few switch arounds about 20 minutes after we had come in a little bell was tinkled and the interrogators led us out. This happened in a very similar fashion in almost every house. We had to write our name on little bits of paper and give them interrogator number 1 who was bound to mark on them whether we'd be allowed in or not.

Thankfully as I didn't give two hoots about whether I'd get in or not the whole thing was a lot less nerve wracking for me than in was for others, they were getting really quite scared. I tried talking to the other recruits in my group, but didn't really get anywhere and soon enough they were all paired up except me, which is another reason that I'm really unsure about going back.

One of the major reasons why I'm 99% sure that I won't be joining is the cost, make sure you're sitting down when you read this because it is ridiculous - the lowest cost sorority per quarter (term) for a new member is $700 and the highest is $1220. What do they spend the money on I hear you cry - well from the looks of it interior decoration (all the rooms that I saw looked v.expensive - marble floors for instance) and hired help - Gardner's (they have the best grass in the whole of the area), cleaners and last but by no means least chefs (yes some sororities have their own personal chefs)! I didn't see a Butler, but one wouldn't be surprised.

I am meant to be seeing the six remaining houses today but don't know if I can stomach it or not, but this is my only opportunity to really find out what goes on is sororities. It starts in 45 minutes time - will I be there? Who knows...?