The Last Post

For anyone who wasn't aware...I AM HOME!

And that is a miracle in itself. I know you all heard about the terrible delays and cancellations going on at Heathrow Airport in London. The basic story is, on Friday and Saturday, London was prey to some pretty heavy snow. It was bad enough that Heathrow was closed for an entire day. I heard tons of horror stories about people I know whose flights were cancelled more than once and were now stranded in London until who knows when? Naturally, this all caused a bit of stress for me. By the time Monday came around (my last day in London) only about 1/3 of the flights were still scheduled, which included mine....BUT that could always change, and at any moment. I was anxious nearly all day and I think I checked our flight status about 300 times. When I woke up on Tuesday morning, we were still right on schedule so Matt and I left for the airport at about 6:40am, for a 10:15 am flight.

Heathrow was sheer madness. There were masses of people standing OUTSIDE of the airport. That's right, people weren't even allowed into the airport unless they were on a flight that was actually leaving. At this point, Matt and I were already counting our blessings. However, we hadn't even reached the beginning of our good fortune. If anyone remembers, Matt and I both used our parents' American Airlines Advantage Miles to purchase our airline tickets. (Thank you, parents!!!) This worked out wonderfully because, of course, we didn't have to pay, but we also were able to fly home in business class.

Let's talk about business class. Keep in mind that I have never flown in anything besides coach up until yesterday, so this was quite the experience. First of all, we were able to wait in a separate, shorter line to check our baggage. We zipped through security without any waiting. We boarded the plane first. Then we sat down in our beautiful, big, roomy seats that reclined almost all the way back. The flight attendant handed us our MENUS for the meal we would be eating on board. Champagne was served at takeoff. We were handed the most wonderful pair of Bose noise-cancelling headphones to wear throughout the plane ride. We each had our own TV screen, which came equipped with about 60 choices of movies and TV episodes to watch (I chose Cyrus, Inception, Up in the Air and three episodes of The Office.). Our meal started off with warm, salted nuts, accompanied by your choice of drink, followed by a salad and bread course and then the entree (I had salmon, Matt had chicken) and finishing it all up with a fruit and cheese plate. It. Was. Heaven. And it will probably never happen again in my life.

Thankfully, oh so thankfully, we landed in Chicago without problems and our flight to DFW was only delayed by about ten minutes. That flight was pretty quick, and then, before we knew it, we were home. We were greeted at baggage claim by family and friends and after a slew of hugs and picture taking, we retrieved our bags and went home. After some Mexican food, of course.

It has been a crazy few months. Some people say that experiences like this change who you are as a person. I don't know if I would go that far, but I know that I will always treasure the time I spent abroad. I have been able to see four different countries and partake of different lifestyles and cultures. I also learned things about myself and found a new appreciation for my family and friends, who I dearly missed while overseas. I am overjoyed to be home. And on that note, I have some people to thank.

To all of you who gave me advice and tips about studying abroad, thank you! I took your suggestions to heart!

To the Tracy family, who I babysat for once a week while in London, thank you for giving me a job which simply consisted of playing with your adorable girls! I looked forward to babysitting every week!

To Andrew and Annie, our gracious and fantastic Irish hosts, thank you for letting us stay with you and showing us around your city! You are both wonderful!

To Mike, Anita and Grace, thank you for letting me intrude on your Thanksgiving, showing me around Amsterdam and cooking wonderful meals for me! I had such a great time that weekend!

To Matt, my fabulous travelling buddy, the Harry to my Hermione, thank you for putting up with me for three and a half months. I'm so glad I was able to go to London with one of my best friends. We sure had some good times, didn't we? From our first day in the city, to standing at the original site of The Rose, to every horrible play we saw, to getting up at 3:30am to go to Paris, to playing with ducks and squirrels in the park on our last day....you are the best. Thank you.

Most importantly, to my parents. Thank you for letting me go on this adventure. Thank you for letting me use your advantage miles so I didn't have to pay for a flight. Thank you for sending me packages and hiding cards in my suitcase and giving me encouragement when I was having a bad day. Thank you for not spoiling me by simply paying for everything, like many other students that I met. Thank you for teaching me how to be smart, resourceful and giving me my innate sense of good direction, which certainly came in handy on this trip. Thank you for being you and always making me laugh and loving me no matter what. I love you.

And lastly, to you, if you have stuck with me throughout this whole trip and read each and every one of my scattered blog posts. Thanks for the comments and the e-mails and thank you for coming on this journey with me.

Soapbox

Tonight Matt and I went to church.

We went to a church right down the street from our dorm that was hosting a Christmas service that they called, "Alternative Carols." Yes. It was awesome. There were hundreds of people there, mostly younger people in their 20s and 30s. The atmosphere was, as Matt said, like being at church camp. Loud music from the band, lots of smiling and laughing, cool lights, the works. We sang several Christmas carols and a few "worship" songs and then a man (who had the same hair as Dr. Walsh, I kid you not) spoke for a short time. His message was fantastic, very anti-religion, pro-Jesus. Which I like. However, his message was not the part of the service that stood out to me. One of the songs we sang was "O Holy Night," a song that I have heard probably thousands of times throughout my life. But tonight, one particular part of the song spoke volumes to me.

Truly he taught us to love one another

His law is love and his gospel is peace

Chains shall he break

For the slave is our brother

And his name, all oppression shall cease

He taught us to LOVE one another. His law is LOVE and his gospel is PEACE. How often do we completely disregard these lyrics? How often do we treat each other with hate and, rather than seeking peace, do we stir up trouble? The slave is our brother. No one is better than anyone else. We are all the same. In his name, ALL oppression shall cease. Then I thought about the Senate's recent repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

*steps up on soapbox*

I didn't vote for Obama. I wouldn't really consider myself a liberal. BUT, I think that this repeal is a step in the right direction. I think the concept of DADT was ridiculous to begin with. I think if someone wants to serve their country, they should absolutely be able to, regardless of race, gender or sexual orientation. I think if someone is uncomfortable with a soldier being gay, they should probably just get over it. We are all working towards a better future here. I think that DADT was, shall we say, oppression...and a very poor example of love and peace. I'm not saying that I have all the answers. I'm not saying that I exhibit love and peace at all times, because, believe me, I don't. However, I think that all of us should be continually striving towards a goal of mutual love, peace and respect. Because otherwise, we are just screwed.

*steps off of soapbox*

Thanks for reading. :) One other thing...I would really appreciate some prayers right now. Specifically that my flight on Tuesday will be able to leave at 10:15am without any complications or delays. Please pray that any bad weather will hold off until later and that I will be able to go home with no problems. All kinds of craziness has been happening in London as a result of bad weather; airports closing, flights being cancelled, but supposedly, things should start getting back to normal tomorrow. If you wouldn't mind saying just a teensy little prayer for me, I would so greatly appreciate it! Thank you!

Merry Christmas, friend.

I'll be home for Christmas

I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love

Even more than I usually do

And although I know

It's a long road home

I promise you

I'll be home for Christmas

You can count on me

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents under the tree

Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light beams

I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams

That is, if our flight isn't delayed or cancelled because of snow. Which is in the forecast for this weekend. Tuesday, the day I leave, has a 30% chance of precipitation right now, but that could change. Let's just hope and pray that around the hour of 10:00am, the skies are clear enough for my plane to take off. Let's also hope and pray that things are clear in Chicago, which is where my connecting flight to DFW takes off. But Chicago should be fine, right? Don't they deal with snow all the time? Wouldn't they know what to do? Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Today I turned in my final papers for each of my classes and I am FREE! It's one of the best feelings in the world. Now I can spend hours online or walking around a park without feeling like I should be doing homework. To celebrate, Matt and I are going to see the movie Burlesque tonight. I am way too excited.

Dreading packing....

Daniel Faraday and Prince Hamlet

Glory to God in the highest, I finally got over my sickness! Good thing, because I did not want to spend my entire flight home coughing up a lung. That would royally suck.

I've done some pretty cool things since last we talked. I'm sure you're intrigued by the title of this post. First of all, Matt and I went to Oxford this past weekend. We kept saying that we were going to take a day when we had nothing to do and just go, but the trip was put off time and time again. Finally, on Sunday, we boarded a train and an hour and a half later, found ourselves in the land of Lewis Carroll, J.R.R. Tolkein and Daniel Faraday. Daniel Faraday is a character from LOST who taught at Oxford. (I've recently noticed that I make a lot of references to both LOST and Harry Potter in this blog. Is that a bad thing? I don't think so. But that's only because I really, passionately, with all of my heart love both of them. Really, when I finished the last Harry Potter book, I thought I was going to cry. It was like watching my childhood end. When LOST ended, I went into mild depression. Not really. But it was devastating. And I HAD to mention LOST in this post, because my very favorite episode in the whole series has a scene at Oxford! It's called "The Constant" and it is completely centered on Desmond, who is such an awesome character. He might be my favorite, but maybe not, because I love Sawyer too. And Charlie. And Hurley. Such a hard decision...Wow. This paragraph quickly gave way to my ridiculous rantings. Let's get back on track, Laura.) So anyway....

Like I was saying, Matt and I went to Oxford. We had no agenda for this trip, except for the desire to see as much of Oxford as we could. Once we arrived, we walked from the train station straight into town and after a quick lunch, we ventured down to Christ Church College, the most well known building on campus. We were able to wander all around and inside the building, taking in the sheer grandeur that is Oxford. It is an incredible place. The buildings are huge and magnificent and the length of time that they have been there makes them all the more beautiful. One of the first things we saw was a staircase. But this wasn't just any old staircase. Not only was it large and intricate, but it was also used in the filming of one particular scene in the movie (can you guess?) Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone! Look, I fit both LOST and Harry Potter into this post! Being the huge Potter-maniacs that we are, Matt and I were ecstatic. We posed for pictures on the staircase and then immediately headed into the Great Hall. The Great Hall is the dining hall in Christ Church and also served as the model for the Great Hall in the HP series. More excitement! More posing for pictures! More marveling at the splendid architecture! It really was beautiful.

After we were done exploring Christ Church, Matt and I walked all over the rest of the city, stumbling onto some very interesting shops. One called Alice's Shop which sold exclusively products that had to do with Alice in Wonderland and the other a bookstore in which every single book was on sale for two pounds. I bought two books. Soon we realized that outside of the actual Oxford campus, there wasn't a lot more to do in Oxford, and we had seen what we wanted to see, so we decided to leave. A day well spent.

Now on to the other part of this post's title, "Prince Hamlet." Last night I went to the National to see a production of Hamlet. Normally, this would go under my London Theatre posts, but I don't know if I'll be seeing anymore plays in the five days I have left in London, so that would be quite a short post, which is why I'm about to write about the show here. As I've mentioned many times, the National produces amazing plays. This production of Hamlet had been getting stellar reviews, so I was very much looking forward to this play. As usual, I was not disappointed. Hamlet is known as the greatest of Shakespeare's plays, which pretty much makes it the greatest play ever written. I don't know if I would say that this production was the greatest play I have ever seen, but it was certainly amazing. I don't need to explain the plot, do I? If you don't know the plot of Hamlet, shame on you. And if you don't know the plot of Hamlet, watch The Lion King. (Betcha some of you didn't realize they were the same story, huh?) What made this production different was that the director chose to stage it in present day, something that isn't usually done when putting on one of Shakespeare's shows. It worked beautifully. Instead of grand palaces, the action took place in a stately home, probably what the prime minister's home or the White House looks like. Instead of regal gowns, the characters wore business suits. Instead of swords, the guards carried guns. Rory Kinnear, who played Hamlet, was fantastic. Actually, everyone was fantastic. I don't think there was a weak actor in the cast. I could talk about this show all day. It was that wonderful.

Five days left.

Just finished my hardest paper.

With every passing day, I get closer and closer to home.

Closer to seeing my family and friends.

That's what I'm most excited about.

But I'm also excited for some other things.

I'm really looking forward to going home to a house completely decked out in Christmas decorations.

I am stoked to get to drive my car again. We've been apart for far too long.

Tex-Mex food and I will have a grand reunion the day I get home.

After eight months of not being involved in a show, I will finally get back into theatre. It's been a painful separation.

Luckily, oh so luckily, I am going home to a part time job. A job that I am very excited about and one that works perfectly with my schedule. I love having connections. Even if those connections consist of my mother.

After spending a couple of weeks with my family, I'll be moving into a new apartment with one of my best friends.

It will be nice to have reliable internet again.

It will also be nice to have access to stores that are open 24 hours a day. (God bless WalMart.)

But I will miss this city.

I'll miss the cold weather. Yes, I am one of those people that genuinely loves cold weather.

I'll miss the free time.

I'll miss the tube.

Stress will be introduced back into my life. I've had such a relaxing semester, save a few random instances.

I have really enjoyed being able to walk everywhere here. I'll miss that too.

I'll miss the English accents. It's just so darn charming.

I'm really NOT looking forward to packing everything again.

And the sickness perpetuates...

I think I'm dying.

Not really. But I feel like it.

Remember my last post when I was feeling sick? That turned into a full fledged, all out, absolute worst cold of my life.

I can't breathe.

I can't stop coughing. And sneezing. I'm that annoying person who coughs her way through other people's oral presentations in class.

I have gone through so many tissues in the past few days.

I'm taking Sudafed and it's doing NOTHING.

I'm sucking on cough drops like they're candy.

I'm eating a lot of oranges. I'm drinking a lot of hot drinks.

The cold weather does nothing to help, of course. Damn you, London!

Finals are upon us, folks. The library is crowded and there is a general sense of stress and panic in the air. However, things are different here in London than they are in the States.

No one is studying. That's because my school clearly has no idea what a test is. All finals are composed of a paper or a presentation. In fact, in every single one of my classes, my entire grade for the class is comprised of one presentation and one paper. That's it. For the entire semester. If you mess up, you're screwed. Comforting, isn't it?

So far, I've given three presentations. They've all gone swimmingly. I have one more to do on Thursday.

I have four papers due in the next ten days. One of those papers will be the easiest assignment of my life and will probably take me about 42 minutes to do. Another paper is merely a continuation of the presentation I gave in that class. No big deal. The other two papers will actually require some effort, but 1800 words is nothing, so I'm not worried (That's for my women's lit class, the other essay has no word count requirement, but should be around 1500.).

I've been listening to Glee's version of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" on repeat lately. What are your favorite Christmas songs?

19 Days

I have spent the majority of my day lying (laying?) in bed. It's not very fun, folks. This morning I woke up and, like every other Thursday, began my trek to the Regent Street campus of my school. And it is a TREK. It takes me around 30-45 minutes to get to class and longer if I stop for coffee, which I did today. Once I got to class and sat down, I realized how tired I felt. This is unusual because most of the time, once I'm up in the morning, I am up! I'm awake and ready to go with no sign of drowsiness. Not so today. Every part of me felt like I might be coming down with something. It's that hard to describe kind of sick. When you don't really want to eat, but you don't feel nauseous, and you have fever-like symptoms, but you don't have a fever. It's weird. Following class, I went straight back to my room (after snapping a few pictures of the snow) and finished up a power point presentation that I have to give on Monday. I still wasn't feeling good so I decided to curl up with a movie. I settled on The Band Wagon, a 1953 film, starring Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse. It wasn't bad. But I prefer Gene Kelly over Fred Astaire any day. After the movie, I thought I was feeling better. Then I stood up. Nope. Just an illusion. Time for three Gilmore Girls episodes in a row.

I'm ready to go home.

Granted, these past few months have been a blast, and maybe I only feel this way because I don't feel good and there are loud people in the hall, pre-gaming before a night of probable debauchery which will end in even more late night yelling,..

I'm not a big partier. I don't really enjoy "going out." To college students, especially those studying in foreign countries, "going out" means drinking, going to a club/pub/bar to drink some more, dance a little, drink some more and then head home. That's just not fun to me. Every once in a while? Fine. But not every week. And not multiple times a week. Call me lame, call me boring, call me what you will. That's fine with me. However, as a result of my dislike of "going out," I haven't made a lot of friends here. I'm usually a pretty social, friendly person, but when the only opportunity I have to make friends involves spending money that I don't want to spend to watch people that I don't know get wasted....I'd rather not. And I'm not exaggerating when I say that that's the only opportunity I have to make friends. You see, the dorm I live in is not connected with my school. The people I take classes with are not the same people I live with. I only see my classmates once a week, for about two hours. Not a lot of time to make lasting friendships. Along those lines, the people in my dorm are only around in the evenings, when they like to "go out," and apparently, that's the only thing they can think of for entertainment! *sigh*

I'm not sure what the purpose of this post is. I'm just lonely. I miss everyone. I miss everyone a lot more than I thought I would. I thought I wouldn't want to leave London when the time came....guess I was wrong.

I think I'll finish up this night with Meet Me in St. Louis. I could use some Judy Garland in my life.

"I definitely want to go to Amsterdam."

Scott, this title is for you. Get excited. I'm not going to explain the title to the rest of you because it would take way too long, so you're just going to have to live with a little mystery.

This past Thursday I left for Amsterdam. As opposed to my other trips, in which I left at insanely early hours of the morning, this flight left at 6:00pm. I wanted to make sure that I was actually IN Amsterdam on Thanksgiving, and thankfully, everything worked out wonderfully. I landed in less than an hour, Mike met me at the airport and we drove back to his house.

Now for those who don't know, Mike and Anita are some of my parents' closest friends. Not only that, they were also my children's pastors when I was about 9 years old. AND, their daughter, Grace, is my sister's best friend. As you can see, I know this family pretty well, so I was more than excited to spend the weekend with them. Mike and Anita are working as missionaries in Amsterdam right now (although technically, they live in a city called Leiden). They're in the middle of a four year period in the city and in 2013 (I think), they will return to the States for one year before moving back to Amsterdam again. Oh, you should probably understand one more crucial thing about Mike and Anita. They are some of the funniest and most sarcastic people I know. It's true. In fact, they are the only people I know that love Seinfeld as much as my family. And that is saying something. I knew it was going to be a good weekend.

The night I arrived, it was too late to do any sight seeing, so we just sat around the kitchen table and talked as I ate leftover turkey and stuffing. We talked about London and Amsterdam, old memories from way back when and our favorite episodes of The Office. The next morning, Anita and I took off towards the city. She determined that the best way to see the city was to take a boat tour. This is something quite similar to a bus tour that can be taken in London or New York, but Amsterdam is full of canals, so taking a boat instead of a bus allows you to see much more. The tour was only about half an hour long, but we were able to see nearly all of the city. Amsterdam is so interesting looking. It looks older than the other cities I've visited and although the buildings are all lined up next to each other, each one of them has a different design. I suppose the best word to describe it is quaint, which is ironic in itself. I say it's ironic because Amsterdam is one of the most liberal cities in Europe, or perhaps the world. Gay marriage is legal. Prostitution is legal. Drugs are legal. In fact, you can pick up some marijuana in any number of coffee houses in the city with absolutely no problem. Now, since I don't particularly feel the need to light things on fire and inhale the contents of said product, I was perfectly happy to just see the historical side of Amsterdam. And I sure did.

Following our boat tour, Anita and I grabbed some lunch and then headed toward the Anne Frank house. Confession time. I have never actually read The Diary of Anne Frank. I know, I know, I have to read it, it's so good, I'm a terrible person for never reading it, blah blah blah. I promise, one day I will read it, but I still wanted to see her house. The museum is really fascinating. Visitors start off on the ground floor of the Frank's house and proceed upstairs through a maze of rooms that were occupied by the people Anne wrote about in her diaries. We were able to see the bookshelf that covered the entrance to the secret annex in which Anne and her family and friends hid from the Nazis. At the end of the museum, Anne's actual diaries are seen on display and it is truly an amazing thing to view.

Next up was a visit to The Rijksmuseum, a museum holding hundreds of pieces of art done by Dutch artists. Most notably, many of Rembrandt's works are seen here. Sadly, I didn't know most of the other artists very well, but I always enjoy looking at art, no matter how great or small my knowledge of the pieces. By the time we had explored the museum, it was getting later and Anita and I decided to head back home. Earlier that morning, Anita had parked her car in a parking garage and we took a bus into the center of the city, so of course, we had to take the same bus back to the garage at the end of the day. When the bus arrived, Anita hopped on while I turned to throw something away. By the time I turned back, the bus doors closed in my face and took off down the street. I motioned to Anita that I would just get on the next bus as I laughed at the situation. Luckily, I am not one to easily panic, so I just waited a few minutes, hopped on the next bus and met Anita at the next stop. No big deal, although I did tell Mike later, "Your wife deserted me today!"

That night we went out to dinner at a great restaurant that serves pancakes. Well, not what Americans think of as pancakes. These are more like crepes and they can be served with any number of toppings. Anita and I shared one with ham, cheese and mushrooms and another with apples, cinnamon and sugar. DELICIOUS. After we got home, we all relaxed on the couch, catching a bit of various football games on TV and eventually we decided the watch the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving episode. It was almost like being at home! It was so nice to be able to sit on someone's couch and eat good home-cooked food, rather than leaning over a desk in a cramped room and discovering vomit in my kitchen sink.

The next morning, Mike showed me around Leiden. The neatest thing about this town is one of its churches. You may not think it looks that remarkable, and true, it does look like the classic cathedral, but this church is special. Back in the 1600s, before journeying to America, the Pilgrims found refuge in Leiden and attended this church. There's even a special plaque dedicated to this small group inside and across the way you can see one of the houses in which the Pilgrims lived. I remember learning about the Pilgrims in first grade and knowing that they spent some time in Holland, so it was amazing to be able to see exactly where they walked spent their time.

The rest of the day was devoted to a true Thanksgiving feast. Mike and Anita had invited about 20 of their missionary friends over for a potluck lunch and we spent hours eating and talking and eating and talking, etc. etc. etc. The food was fantastic and I was able to talk to some truly extraordinary people, some who have spent more than 20 years serving overseas. We ate until we could eat no more and after all the guests were gone, all the dishes were washed and everything was put away, we sat down, discovered that The Muppets' Wizard of Oz was on TV and proceeded to watch the entire thing. Yes, three adults, laughing our way through a Muppets movie. Don't judge.

This morning, I flew back to London and was reminded that I have only three weeks left in this splendid city. I feel like there are still things I haven't done and I'm worried I won't be able to fit everything in. I also have final presentations and papers coming up, which just doesn't excite me at all. But I suppose my semester of pleasure has to contain at least some work, right? Yuck.

Cue non-stop Christmas music for the next month.

Europe doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving.

Isn't that sad? All these Europeans are being deprived of a day to do nothing but eat. But Thanksgiving is a strictly American holiday and most Europeans aren't even sure what the purpose of Thanksgiving is. So tomorrow, when I would normally be lounging on the couch in my pajamas, watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, I will be sitting in my theatre class, ranting about the horrible plays I've been seeing lately. Later in the day, when I'd usually be taking a walk around my Grandma's neighborhood with the women (the men in my family prefer napping...Grandpa, Chad, Ben, Dad, I'm talking to you), I'll be on a plane to Amsterdam. On Friday, when I'd usually be pulling boxes of Christmas ornaments out of the closet in the game room, I will be exploring Anne Frank's house. It will be a fun weekend. Slightly strange, but fun.

I have a lot to be thankful for. I'll make a list.

First, I'm thankful for my parents. My wonderful parents who allowed me to go on this adventure, gave me money, hid cards in my suitcase, give me advice and encouragement and never stop loving me.

I'm thankful for my brother and sister, who I do miss. We don't always get along, but I love them a lot.

My friends are a wonderful group of people who are diverse, unique and fabulous at all times. I miss them.

I'm thankful for freedom, music, laughter, theatre, food, sleep and a thousand other things too numerous to list here.

But this year, most of all, I am thankful for opportunities. 99% of people in this world are not as lucky as I am. I realize what an amazing opportunity I have been given these few months. I am currently living in one of the most interesting cities on the planet, making new discoveries about myself and others around me, seeing new things and experiencing a different culture. And for that, I am thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

London Theatre: Part Three

Ok folks, we've got a rough round.

But 15 shows isn't bad, huh? I am loving life.

Or You Could Kiss Me (The National)

Puppets. Extremely realistic looking puppets. You might think this sounds like a children's show, but believe me, it was not. The plot of this play was about two elderly men who have been in a relationship together for about 40 years. I don't remember if they were technically married or not....Anyway, one of the men is extremely ill and nearing the end of his life and most of the plot involves the two characters trying to deal with this fact. The cast was comprised of several men, all wearing the same basic black suit. Two actors provided the voices for the characters, as well as assisting other actors in moving the puppets around the stage. Two other actors played the two men at younger ages. One woman acted as a sort of narrator, but she also played the men's housekeeper and lawyer. It's hard to describe much more about this play without actually seeing it. The puppets used in the play are not the typical Sesame Street/Avenue Q puppets one automatically thinks of. They were made of wood and looked so.....human-like. Rest assured, my inability to describe these things does not reflect a poorly done show. This production was wonderful. It was beautifully done in absolutely every aspect. The National delivers yet again!

An Ideal Husband (Vaudeville Theatre)

This play was written by Oscar Wilde. You've heard of him, right? He wrote The Importance of Being Earnest and The Picture of Dorian Gray. He's quite well known. Well, this play is about blackmail. A woman threatens to reveal the secrets of a man she knows, which would most likely cause him problems in his job as well as his marriage. The problem with this play was that I never understood why she cared. What's the point of the blackmail? Sure, she wants a little something in return, but why make so much of an effort? I also wasn't sure whether this play was supposed to be a drama or a comedy. It had elements of both, but the comedy wasn't very funny and the drama wasn't that interesting. The costumes were beautiful and the set was atrocious. When I see a play, I usually wind up loving what I saw or hating it. With this play, I honestly felt neither. I walked out of the theatre and simply said, "Meh."

Hungry Ghosts (Orange Tree Theatre)

One of the worst plays I have ever seen. It was about Chinese people and Nascar. How those two related in the play, I really couldn't tell you. Here's a sampling of how bad this play was. The main character was Chinese. Apparently, when he spoke "Chinese" in the play, he spoke without using an accent, in his normal English dialect, but when he was speaking "English," he used a strange, really stereotypical sounding Chinese accent. Confusing? Just wait. His sister was also Chinese, and spoke to both English characters and Chinese characters in "English" and "Chinese," respectively. But did she ever change her accent? NO. I don't even want to write about this play anymore. That's how bad it was.

Billy Elliot (Victoria Palace Theatre)

So far, this is the only show that I've seen in London that I have already seen before. And I was more than pleased to view it again. Billy Elliot is my favorite musical. It's based on the movie of the same title, about a young boy growing up in the 1980s, during the miner's strike, who wants to take ballet. I previously saw this show in Chicago over spring break, and although this performance was not as good as Chicago's, it was still the same old Billy, so I loved it. The dancing is phenomenal, especially when you take into account how young most of the dancers are. These are some seriously talented children. The music is wonderful, the show isn't terribly long, the story is interesting....basically, it's a great show.

Joseph K (The Gate Theatre)

Bad. BAD. Badbadbad. There was no point to this play. Lots of things happened, none of them made sense. A man named Joseph K was arrested on his birthday. Why? I don't know. Why doesn't he have a last name? I don't know. Bad things happened to him for year. His lawyer has a china doll collection. His lawyer has had the same intern for six years and won't let her leave his house. Joseph K talked to homeless people on the street who can apparently help him. Someone was being beaten in the office next to him and the audience thought it was hilarious. Strange pop music, including "Don't Stop Believing" by the cast of Glee, was playing throughout the entire opening scene. Why?????? I DON'T KNOW! None of these questions were answered. Nothing was explained. Bad. Bad. Bad.

Thus concludes my third London theatre review.

The joys of dorm life.

The title of this post is meant to be extremely sarcastic. Let's face it, there is nothing joyful about dorm life whatsoever.

Let's start with The Incident. The Incident, as I have decided to name it, occurred on Sunday and has thoroughly shaken me and caused me to lose all faith in humanity in general. I woke up on Sunday morning, after a horrible night of sleep (we'll get to that later) and after a few minutes, I walked across the hall to the kitchen to get something to drink. For those who don't remember, my roommate and I share a kitchen with two other girls and one staff member who lives in this building. The kitchen is rarely up to my standards of cleanliness. Yes, I have high standards and I am proud of them. Dishes sit in the sink or in the dishwasher for days at a time, which annoys me to no end. Just wash them off, dry them off and put them away, people! There always seem to be crumbs everywhere, or spilled....stuff. It's just annoying. Well, all of this is mere child's play compared to The Incident. As I was saying, I walked into the kitchen to get something to drink and immediately turned to the sink. And there before my very eyes, splattered inside the sink, down the front of the cabinet wall, and on the floor was.....puke. Dried puke. Someone threw up in our kitchen sink and did not bother to clean it up. I'm going to type that sentence again, in all caps, to get my point across. SOMEONE THREW UP IN OUR KITCHEN SINK AND DID NOT BOTHER TO CLEAN IT UP! I......just.....you.....really?????? I can't even formulate words to describe how completely disgusting and unsanitary it was. What kind of person does this??? I'll tell you, drunk people. It was awful. I couldn't stand to be in the room a second longer, so I went back to my bedroom and my roommate and I shared our equal disgust. I decided that something had to be done. So, in true Laura fashion (because really, who else would do this?), I wrote a note. The note said this...

To whoever THREW UP in our kitchen sink and didn't bother to clean it up, please do so. That is DISGUSTING. Thanks.

I taped the note to the door of the kitchen and prayed that the culprit would wake from their drunken stupor soon and take care of their mess. A few hours later, the sign was gone, and the puke was too. However, I am still squeamish about using anything in that kitchen. What is wrong with people? Has all decency been lost? Are people that stupid, careless and ridiculous? Apparently so. I am an advocate for class, at all times and quite frequently, I find myself thoroughly disappointed in my generation. *sigh* But what can you do? Not much, I've learned.

But on to other things. As I mentioned up there, the night before The Incident, I had a terrible night's sleep. And now I've had about four in a row. I'll go to bed and spend literally hours tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. I don't know what's wrong. A lot of people say that when you can't fall asleep, you should just get up and do something for a few minutes and then try to fall asleep again. Well, I can't do that. I have a roommate who sleeps three feet away from me and I, unlike others (ahem), am a considerate person. I can't turn on the light to read and I can't really do anything that causes noise for fear of waking my roommate. So I am left to simply lie in bed and hope that I fall asleep soon. Any tips? I'm desperate.

I need cheering up. I'm going to watch The Office.

The Harry Potter premiere deserves its own post.

Last spring, when Matt and I originally chose to study abroad in London, the first thing we decided that we absolutely had to do was attend the world premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows .

Let me explain a few things first. I have been reading the Harry Potter books since I was 11 years old. When the final book was released, in the summer of 2007, I read the 700 page book in less than 12 hours. All of my friends at TCU are completely and totally obsessed with the series. In our freshmen year, two of my friends took it upon themselves to sort each of us into houses, like they do in the books. I'm a Ravenclaw, if you're curious. We were among the first to discover A Very Potter Musical, which became a Youtube hit. When we went out for sushi one night, we ended up having wizard duels in the parking lot with our chopsticks. In short...we really love Harry Potter. Which is why going to this premiere was such a big deal.

Unfortunately, I awoke this morning to a torrential downpour. My friends and I began texting back and forth, trying to decide if we wanted to brave the rain as well as the crowds. Finally, the rain stopped and we decided to go for it. We would meet at Leicester Square and hope for the best.

I arrived to find the place completely swarming with people. I'm pretty sure the entirety of London had gathered in Leicester Square. I found Matt and together we stood as close to the red carpet as we could...which wasn't very close. We made friends with some fellow Americans and began discussing Glee. 'Cause you know, what else is there to do when you're standing around waiting in the cold? We had a clear view of the red carpet, but after a while we still hadn't seen a single actor, although the frequent screams of delight we heard from the other side of the square indicated that there were definitely famous people present. The security guard standing near us was a very friendly man who was telling us about the other premieres that he'd worked at, most notably Transformers 2. After a while, we decided to move somewhere else. We found our friend, Devon, who was standing behind a random fence in a spot that, surprisingly, wasn't too crowded. Little did we know, Devon had struck gold. For we were standing about 30 feet behind a huge platform. And on that huge platform, the actors were giving interviews. And after they were done, they went down some stairs and went to sign autographs. AND as they went down those stairs and made their way to the first crowd of people, we were treated to a pretty decent view of them. Devon spotted the first celebrities, which she made known to us by screaming, "THE TWINS! IT'S THE TWINS! AAAAHHHH!!!!!" Yep. The boys who play Fred and George Weasley were right there. We let out a cheer and everyone pulled out their cameras. Except for me, because mine had died, much to my dismay. We continued standing at our wonderful little place by the fence for a while. Enough time to see the actors who play Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Cho Chang, Professor Flitwick, Fleur and who we think was Dumbledore. After all of that, we determined that we had seen more than we ever expected to, and decided to go ahead and leave. We were perfectly satisfied.

I knew I chose London for a reason.