"Fashion has gone mad hasn't it?"

We are not fashionable enough for the British. They hate America and called us ridiculous. Everyone told us that the one thing we could not leave for London without was rain boots. I brought these shiny bad boys and they took up about half my suitcase. Today it rained (of course) and my roommate Pumbaa and I wore our shiny galoshes to the supermarket. As we always do when we go there, we drew attention to ourselves immediately (see: The Pink Suitcase Story). One of the workers asked us how long we were here for and told us that rainboots were unnecessary for this kind of rain or any that we would see during our stay. As we left the supermarket, Mer overheard an older man announce to the world that fashion had gone mad basically because rain boots are ugly. So much for fitting in and being British.

Here is our group (minus 1):

Last night we had dinner with our professor, MAC over at the boys' flat. There were 23049832508 pasta dishes and a big salad. We tried to get MAC drunk enough to pass out in our dorm style flats but no dice, she's a classy lady. After that I stayed in and so did my love, my dove - Shanaynay while everyone else went out and had less fun than usual (probably because we were missing, jk).

Two nights ago, another drunk Mexican tried to woo Naynay at a club called On anon, but to no avail because Dora is everyone's favorite Mexican. We paid a (ridiculous) cover charge after getting sexually harassed for fifteen minutes straight by club promoters in Piccadilly Circus. These crafty Brits promote hardcore at night when everyone is club hopping. To get over our troubles Charlotte and I chugged a pitcher of sub-par Long Island Iced Tea. Next we faced a brawl during which we both almost were punched in the face (no, I did not start this one.) We survived the evening and walked miles and miles home.

Anyway, Secret Diary of a Call Girl is on soon and Pumbaa and I are going to watch it with our other roommate Nala. We have absurd nicknames for each other obviously. Here is a picture of the three of us at the Princess Diana Memorial in Hyde Park:
Nothing else could follow up the beauty emanating from this photograph. So its TV time. Good night. Cheerio.

Dora the Explorer

So, a beautiful man (John) pointed out that much like the bilingual Nickelodeon character we all know and (maybe) love, I love to explore. This applies to every aspect of my life. Today I explored through a museum all the way to the fire escape hidden beneath a painted door, fascinating. Anyway, here I will write about my adventures, and I have a lot of them. In truth my life should be a sitcom, but I digress.

On this fine day, I will celebrate my one week anniversary of arriving in London by spending too much money somewhere that should be paying hot babes like us to enter. I love it here so far despite this tragic fact. Much like New York City this place has a life after 4 am that doesn't involve seeing Bambi and his forest friends outside my bedroom window. It is extremely exciting not doing homework but still getting credit for Colgate classes (I hope). I will post pictures later when I have an idea of what on earth I am doing here which so far has been mostly drinking delicious beer and sleeping (I'm so exciting I hope no one gets intimidated by my fabulous life).

Anyway, I leave you with a video of Dora at her finest, as a rap video ho for Soulja Boy. This is when she first captured my heart:
Peace love gap