Update, in a List

My dearest, faithful readership: I have failed you. I have become lazy and allowed London to sweep me off my keyboard and into a world of pubs and spontaneous discovery, and forgotten to track the experiences I promised I'd share. In a way, I suppose that means I have also failed myself.

I have spent the last few hours talking to Derrick Carr, who graduated last year, and looking through Peter Lu's blog , who I never knew, but writes the everyday into fascinating. Together, one knowingly and the other not, they have made me want to push myself to write more often, more clearly, with a goal in mind: to reach you, reader, concisely and in a semi-entertaining fashion. My dedication may only last until I fall asleep again tonight, but I hope it lasts a little longer. In any case, I will not bore you with a long, catch up post. Instead, here is my trip thus far, since I left you, in a list:

1. Dublin. Fucking. Rocks. Dublin castles, Dublin bars sans cover, Dublin accents, Dubliners (who will stop, mid road, and chase after you when they have given you wrong directions. Twice.), Irish countryside, with and without rain, and lets not forget, Dublin Oktoberfest. In the immortal words of Rebecca Black: fun, fun, fun, fun.

2. American English to English English go-to translations:
     a) line: queue
     b) bathroom: toilet
     c) trash: rubbish
     d) Thanks/be well/cool/goodbye: Cheers! (exclamation compulsory)
     e) Messed up: botched it
     edit: Also: hallway: corridor
     And many more I can't remember or haven't heard of yet.

3. Latin American Spanish to Spanish Spanish:
    a) fila: cola
    More, also, but less likely to remember at this hour. This one just strikes me as funny, since apparently there's is something up with the word "cola." In Venezuela, "dandole la cola a alguien" means you're giving someone a ride. Which would mean in Spain you're giving someone a line. Or, to me, you're giving them your ass. Heyyyy, colonialism.

4. Spanish girl: Oh, Hispanic people don't really talk Spanish. It's very ugly, not correct at all.
Me: That's so funny, because that's how I talk!
Spanish girl: Oh, I just meant it's different, right?
Me: Right! Except since there's more of us now, I'm not sure yours is more correct. *Cue beaming smile*

5. My low down on UCL Societies after first half of taster's fortnight:

Capoeira: rocks, but hurts. Will be returning.
Rock climbing: missed it, hard. Will be returning.
Kickboxing: crowded, but right downstairs. Meh.
Young Writer's Club: holds open mic nights and slams--British slams? Sign me UP.
Dance, Yoga, Bachata: Will get back to you.

6. Classes? I have classes? What? One of my professors didn't even show up for class, even after 30 minutes of us waiting for him. Other lectures have been mediocre, but also introductory. I hope they will get better, and they just might. My reading lists, which vary from 4-8 pages per class (I was told we weren't necessarily supposed to read everything but not really told what I was supposed to read) look entertaining at least.  Meh. Will update as soon as more information is gathered (slash, professors actually show up).

All in all, nothing too new, and yet everything new all at once, all the time. Loving living in a city, and London grows on me more and more, every day, cold and wet aside.