And You Thought The Puerto Rico Voting Laws Were Weird

So on the ride home from work yesterday, while the radio played crap soft rock from the 90s, Kevin explained to me why the Zimbabwean population in Southend is so important. I didn't realize that they can actually vote.

Over here in the UK, the law says that if you live anywhere in the Commonwealth of the UK - former colonies, not including the US - you can vote in national elections and vote in local elections, but not in EU elections. Furthermore, UK nationals living abroad can vote in EU and national elections, but not local ones. So while our country is going on about immigration issues, these immigrants can actually vote on how the laws will affect them.

And that's leaving out Scotland and Wales. Both parts of the country have their own parliaments now, thanks to Tony Blair. But both are also still represented with seats in British Parliament.

Indian Food: The Cure for the Common Cold

So the lesson of the day is to never let your cell phone die.

I planned on tripping down to Southend for the afternoon for some canvassing. So after a quick trip from Fenchurch St. to Southend East (faster than East Anglia, for sure. I am now a fan of c2c trains), I was ready to go. Problem was, my phone was dead and I couldn't call my boss.

So I went to the internet cafe near the station and looked up the number for the office. The people at the Christian Fellowship were obliging and let me use their phone (I should hope so, they're shit Christians if they didn't, right?), and when no one was there (duh, they were out canvassing), I decided to trek over to the office to pick up some stragglers. And 2 hours later, I found them.

We did some canvassing that night as well around town, but we didn't get too far because of the rain. Instead, we went with some phone canvassing (which didn't go well, from what it looked like with Rob) and then went for curry next door. Which took about 2 hours and was really good.

Open Letter to Train Jumpers and Gang Bangers

Dear suicidals and murderers -

It has come to my attention over the past few weeks that you seem to favor trains and train stations as a method of killing either yourself or your rivals. I ask this of you: please refrain from using these methods.

Not to sound selfish or anything but it's really rude to disrupt people's transportation because you feel the need to off someone.

For example, me and 300 of my closest fellow London commuters took an extra 2 plus hours to get home from all corners of the Southeast because someone thought it was a good idea to bump someone in the way of an oncoming train. We had to get off at Shenfield, wait an hour, take a bus to Gidea Park, wait a half hour, and then take the slow train up to London Liverpool Street, from where it took me another half hour or so to get home.

Thursday transport was disrupted when some teenage gang bangers thought it was a great idea to stab their fellow school chum in the ticketing area of Victoria station on the London Underground. My journey wasn't held up, but tons of other people had issues getting to places - like Gatwick Airport - because the entire station was shut down.

So the moral of this story is this: if you're going to kill yourself, please don't do it in front of a train. It's quick, but it disrupts so many people's lives. Especially the poor driver! You don't want to be a burden to anyone, and yet you just scarred the guy for life!

Furthermore, if you're planning on commiting a homicide, please don't do it in or around a train or tube station. There are plenty of back alleys in the UK, please make use of them instead.

Fall Back, British Summer Ahead

Turns out that they do have time changes in Britain. I just didn't realize it because of the name.

Over here, when they "spring ahead" it's called British Summer Time, or Greenwich Daylight Savings Time. Apparently they started doing this in 1916 to save energy or what have you, just like we do in the good old US of A.

Problem is, I didn't realize this and ended up having to call the bosses to let them know that I was running an hour late for work. Ian got a pretty good laugh about it.

And By "Trim," I Mean Half My Hair

In the past two weekends, I've been to Ireland, Stratford, and Oxford. But what have I focused on?

My hair. Because I'm vain that way.

Before this past Thursday, I had hair that I could in theory Lady Godiva over my bosom should I so chose to do so, but I hadn't had it cut since Christmas break. Which normally isn't a big deal, but it had gotten to the point where I was sitting in class and peeling apart the split ends. I decided to make a venture to one of London's cheaper salons (which are still more expensive than the Schilling-Douglas I'm used to frequenting back home). I went to Supercuts first because I figured they were cheap and, well, super. Turns out their water was screwed up and they were waiting for a plumber. Being the impatient girl that I am, I decided to hit up Abella's Hair & Beauty on Cromwell, because that was the only other cheap(ish) looking salon I had seen around. I wandered in, sat down, and asked for a trim from the tiny Arabic man inside. I can only assume he was Abella. He showed me what he was trimming off.

He then proceeded to chop of 6 more inches of my hair.

Odd enough, he shampooed me after he hacked off my locks. And then blow dried it and over charged me. Weird. But I honestly can't complain too much, I sort of love it. I didn't want short hair, but considering the last time I had hair this short was senior year of high school, it's sort of fun.

4 Countries in 10 Days: Me Finally Writing about Spring Break

Oh, so about those 10 days where I wasn't in the UK. Forgot about that.

(All my pictures are on Facebook, so really, go to there for better stories and photos)

So we decided for our Spring Break to hit 4 cities in 10 days: Berlin (Germany), Prague (Czech Republic), Venice (Italy) and Rome (also Italy). First up was Berlin, which we were supposed to fly into on Thursday, March 4th. First we had to get to the airport. There's a train to Stansted, the Stansted Express, from Liverpool Street. Unfortunately, because a few people were running late, we had to take a later train than expected and therefore got to the airport about 15 minutes before the plane was supposed to take off. By some miracle (and a sprint through the airport in my socks), we made it onto the plane, which had been delayed by some miracle of God. We landed and tried to get a train, and I ended up finding the one German guy who spoke perfect English and was going in our direction. So as we were getting off the S-Bahn, Steph decided to pay him for his services with a fruit cookie. We made it to the Heart of Gold in Berlin (best hostel ever? I think so) and ended up taking an epic 4 hour free tour of the city. Got to see the Brandenburg Gate (which is the picture up there, at Pariser Platz), a few memorials, and pretty much all of Berlin in one day.

The next day we were off to Prague, and after a really sort of sketchy uncomfortable bus trip, we reached Prague/Praha by 11:30ish. Once again, we didn't know the language - this time we didn't even have Paloma, who spoke the language. Now without Paloma or Sabina (who decided to go to Munich instead of go to Prague), we were at the train station with metro passes, koruny, and no idea where we were going. Steph ran into another guy who spoke English and led us directly to our hostel's street. She wasn't too quick with the cookies, though, and he left before we could properly say thank you. We figured out (we being me, Steph, and Carrie) that the koruny is weak against the dollar - meaning we could actually eat a real meal in Prague rather than eating street food like in Berlin - and then we set off for another set of free tours. We took two, taking the whole day and covering the entire city (including Prague Castle), ate dinner, and generally decided that Prague was amazing and fully worth picking over Vienna.

Next up was Venice. After a rather amusing train trip on the Hogwarts Express from Prague to Salzburg and then from Salzburg to Venice San Marcos (with the last leg being a nerve-wracking transfer in Austria), we reached one of the more beautiful cities I've ever seen.

And then it fucking SNOWED.

Dead serious! We were expecting 50 degrees and sunny. Turned out to be 30 or less and 4 inches of snow/slush that the Italians were completely unprepared for. We were also unprepared, me with non waterproof boots, Steph with Keds, and Carrie with my Chuck Taylors on (which was great for packing my bag but bad for keeping your feet dry). It didn't stop us from eating gelato every day (which is unreal, it's so delicious) or trudging through the city to see San Marcos Cathedral and the Modern Art Museum. But it did stop us from staying out past like 7, because we were tired and freezing our asses off. This was the city we chose to spend 2 full days in rather than any other, and I don't know if that was the right choice or not. Anyway.

Next up was Rome, with no transportation issues getting there (oddly enough). We got to see the Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, and Pantheon on our first day there. Unfortunately, I found out later from Dave that the Via Della Palombella, or "Palombo Street," was right behind the Pantehon. Bummer. The next day we hit the biggies: The Colluseum (beyond awesome) and the Forum (even better), as well as the Vatican and St. Peter's Basilica. We literally went to another country by crossing a road. Got some great pictures, had some yummy pasta/pizza, got to keep a giant bottle of Coke, and (other than some difficulty getting to Ciampino airport via the train), we got out just fine and back to London.

And when I got back, I was still sort of on break because my parents and sister came to come visit. I had to take classes, sure, but I also got to go on the London Eye, in the Tower of London, in the Tower Bridge, in Westminster Abbey, in the Imperial Warm Museum, in Wimbledon, and other wonderful places that I didn't get to go to before without them here. I also got to show them around a country/continent they had never been to before. Mom needed some help figuring out the money (she didn't know what all the coins were, so anytime she had to pay, she needed me there), and Dad didn't have much luck with the beer or the coffee over here (warm and too frothy, respectively). Corinne seemed a little bored, but she's not a huge traveler like me. They all seemed to like the London Eye and the views, and we all thought Wimbledon was awesome too. Sort of funny the first day, they were all falling asleep on the London Eye (they were pretty freaking tired after that flight).

But the spring break didn't end there! Not only was I playing tour guide for my family for the week after I got back (which was really really fun), but the girls and I had booked Ireland for the weekend afterwards. Not only did we not realize how close to Spring Break our trip was, but we also didn't realize that we decided to go to Ireland on St. Patrick's Day weekend. We oddly didn't go out to the pubs (we wanted to, but they were expensive) because we had to wake up all the mornings we were there. The first night we got there we were just tired. The next we went to the Cliffs of Moher (where they shot the Cliffs of Insanity for The Princess Bride, part of Harry Potter, and the segment of Late Night with Conan O'Brien where he went in search of his Irish heritage). And the next day my alarm didn't go off and we almost missed our flight back to London (sense a theme?) because we had to get on the plane by 7:40 AM GMT. We made it and made it back all in one piece (very very tired), and it was fun.

That's it. That's my whole spring break rolled into one very long blog entry.

You're Going to Get Robbed. But Enjoy Yourself.

"You'll have your passports stolen in Prague, your credit cards stolen in Barcelona have your pockets picked by those skillful Roma children..." - Bevan
"We're going to al those places." - Addison
"Well, at least you know ahead of time." - Bevan
"I'll cancel everything accordingly." - Addison
"Oh, I know the feeling. I got my whole wallet stolen in Beirut. At least there's police in Barcelona, I suppose. So! Monty Python!" - Bevan