My past few days.. This will take awhile

Everyone kept saying- it'll be fine, you'll be a fish out of water for a few days, but it'll be fine. Ok. Everyone knows what happens to fish out of water- THEY DIE! My first day here suuuuucked but before we get to that- lets start from the beginning!

9/20/06
Arrival with mom to JFK. Only one wrong turn and practically no death in NYC parkways. Yay for us. Cry as mom leaves me at security. Remember to tape Veronica Mars, Gilmore Girls and Dr. Who for me, mommy!!!
Call every single person I know including my boyfriend. He tells me not to do anything stupid. I'm hoping burning monkey solitaire doesn't count. He asks me what I'm doing this weekend... Uhhh. I have no place to live. A hostel with people I don't know doesn't count.
He'll miss me and be sad without me, etc. etc. etc. More crying. We hang up, I eat a milky way midnight. Everytime I eat one it's like the Downy soft bear is giving my head a hug. I go get reamed at the currancy exchange because I figure I'll need money when I get there.
Virgin is very vehement about making sure you put your contact information on the back of your ticket- the part they keep. This is to make sure you get your luggage back right? Not in case there's some sort of firey wreck. Anyway, they keep shouting it over the microphone. Lovely.

Thurs 9/21
This is one of the most awful days I've ever had. Sit back and enjoy my discomfort. Jerks.
So I didn't sleep on the plane... I watch a movie and some tv and then couldn't sleep. Virgin is super, by the way. Everyone should fly it.
We land and I stand in line for 2 hours to get through immigration. It was awful. I've never stood in a line that long in my life. Even Cyprus, the country where no one works longer than 15 minutes at a time manages to get you through in 15 minutes. The whole intire time this little Indian lady was standing on top of me. Noooo personal space for me. We all know how I love that...
Get my bags. Yay no one has taken them in the 2 HOURS THEY HAVE BEEN SITTING ON THE FLOOR. My flight isn't even on one of the monitors it's been so long. My bags are just sitting in the middle of the floor. They seem happy to see me. At first I am happy to see them, but by the time I drag them the seemingly 10 miles to the subway (can someone pull up a heathrow map and verify this for me?) I hate them. I want to light them on fire and strip off all my clothing because I'm sweating so much. I hate sweating when everyone else is calm and cool only slightly less than I hate lack of personal space.

Get to the subway terminal and the line... Good god the line for tickets. Eventually the stormclouds part and this dirty little angelic man with a funny accent tells us we're a safety hazard and to just go get on the trains. He was wearing an orange vest, I figured he knew what he was talking about so on a subway train to london I go.

Subways here have no airconditioning. And the train was packed- thank god I landed during rush hour! I have not slept AND I have just dragged 50lbs of luggage 40 miles (map it people, it's true). My body is shaking I'm so exhausted. It takes an hour to get into the city and for the last 3 stops I'm willing myself to not pass out or vomit. I wish I was exaggerating here for effect but I'm not. It was awful.
And my stop, Kings Cross! Fresh air! Where do I get out???? Instead of following everyone else, I follow the way out signs. Maybe they're all going to other trains! Of course, this means I go out the wrong exit, but only after dragging my million lb bags up a long uphill grade, and up 50 stairs (I counted and hated each stair equally). At the top, at freedom, I am asked for my ticket. I tell them about my little angel man in the orange vest and they say fine, but this is the national rail exit, not the subway exit. I'm going to have to go back the way I came and come out the right side. The guy must have seen I was about to breakdown because he let me out after figuring out a way to have me pay the subway fee there.

I get to the hostel, check in, my room is the size of a prison cell and smells like BO. AWESOME. I leave my stuff (grudgingly, as I'm not sure of the stinky members in my room's trustability) and go try and find UCL. Why, I ask you, is it hot and sunny out? It's London. Why on the day I come and have to carry around trillions of lbs of luggage is it hot and muggy? I'm sweaty, in case you were wondering. And everyone else is nice and cool.

On campus- yes I know this is long but it was the longest day of my life- the line for enrollment (green line) is around the courtyard. I've missed the morning lectures that were apparently very informative and now have to wait in another line. This will be a theme of the day. As will me almost running around in small circles crying. I get to the front of the line after a half hour where the guy tells me they don't have my enrollment form. I take this to mean that they have no record of me supposed to be being there and freak out. Almost cry in front of strange person. I have to go stand in line at the purple line. This is the problem line. I am in the problem line.

After waiting awhile, this line does not move quickly because it is filled with people that have problems, I get to the front. The lady is a dream. She is nice, she informs me that this has been happening all day- someone didn't send all the forms, and makes a phone call. If I want to sit for a half hour, she'll have everything for me. I love this woman. I also love the chairs they have to wait in- they're green velveteen and comfy. I pass out (I haven't slept since the day before, I smell, I drank some weird juice, I think I was close to dying...). I can't sleep on a plane, but a chair in the middle of registration? Oh yeah. Sign me up.

I wake up and get my enrollment form. I'm going to find this lady and send her a card. I go to a few more lines- one about questions for loans, one for my papers for my student id (I can't just get one, I have to stand in a long line to get papers for it), I get my student ID. Ok. Now before we move on, reread what I've been through. I look wonderful and feel even worse. My student ID is a masterpiece. The guy handing it to me APOLOGIZED! I wish I were kidding.

I wave hi to Jeremy Bentham's autoicon (basically his dead corpse dressed up in clothes to make him look like he's alive sitting in a box- nothing weird about that, right?) as I go up the stairs to the library to get my bar code (it doesn't just come on the ID- SUNY Albany is lightyears ahead of these people in terms of enrollment processes... let's all collectively weep for me now) they don't have my paperwork, I have to come back monday. I sign up my computer and go home to nap. I leave campus at 5, got there at 11. Lines for practically 6 straight hours. Someone go back and try and figure out how long I stood in line throughout the day... my brain hurts.

9/21
After sleeping everything got much better. I had had a shower, things were fine. The next day of lines at school was much shorter, I went to two lectures about living and working in London. I am now part of the informed. People ask me for directions and seem suprised when I have to pull out a map. Oh what a difference a day makes...
A few little notes because I don't feel like walking you through my day- it was way more boring, you can read my journal if you want. The british love weird fruit juice combos and weird potato chip flavors. I have in my possession a bag of Sweet Thai Red Pepper crisps. Heaven. Also, there's an Ethiopian restaurant next to my hostel. This makes me laugh because I'm a bad person and also there was that south park ethernopian episode.
I also bought an umbrella at Tesco's- a supermarket.

A brief story of an encounter with a line cutter on campus. While waiting in line at the foreign financial aid office (they call it a scholarship office here but it isn't- I HAVE TO PAY IT ALL BACK), some bitch just walks up and gets in front of me to ask the guy a question. There's an entire line behind me! I am next! I don't say anything because I don't want to cause a scene and I can tell from her accent she's from Eastern Europe somewhere- prolly Russia. This means she'd hold a grudge against me all year, find out all about me, then fly to NY and seduce my boyfriend and kill Mama Cat (good luck with the second part, bitch! Mama takes down bats!). It was better because it all worked out for me in the end. She was rude to the guy, he was rude back, turns out she cut the wrong line and had to go stand in an even longer line that was filled with grumpy people that would have beat her up if she tried to cut.

Now, some of you will say, but she was rude because she was having a day like you had yesterday! Empathize! And I say NO! The worse my day was, the nicer I got. I was so tired that I was in another universe. The universe where batty, crazy (but nice) people come from. I reached the point where I didn't care if people didn't respect my personal space (and they didn't- no sense of space from the people on the Asian continent). I was polite when addressed. I smiled, said thank you. You can see it in my eyes in my student ID... I was out of my mind.

9/22- Saturday!
Took nyquil, which was a bad idea considering the jet lag. My limbs felt like they weren't attatched to my body all day. Try climbing the stairs at the British Museum with no limbs. It doesn't work!
I sat in Russell Sq. park for awhile and watched the pigeons bathing in the fountain. There was this one pigeon who busied himself with making sure he was the only damn pigeon in the 10ft in diameter fountain. What a great thing to be the Fountain Pigeon King.
I got a library card at the British Library after seeing 2 of the 4 copies left of the Magna Carta and the Gutenberg bible. I also go to see the Kings library.. I want in... To roll around in all those old books.. Let me in!!!!!
My room at the hostel continues to smell attrocious. I can't wait to switch hostels.
All of you should check youtube for the David Hasselhoff Pipex commercial. You won't be disappointed.