Day 81: ONE FINAL THING I'M THANKFUL FOR...

(That I wasn't eaten by this big ass fish)

This is Nobby.




Nobby is a giant gourami that inhabits my landlord's office. Normally, this is where I'd link to a wikipedia entry about giant gouramis. But that's not neccessary. All the wikipedia page would say is that "giant gouramis are pure evil that represent all that's wrong with the world. They, on occassionally, will eat your soul.*"

Today we paid our rent for the last time. This means the threat of being fed to Nobby as a result of missing a deadline is no longer a fear that haunts us every night in our sleep*. As I mentioned in a previous entry, our landlord looked oddly like Snatch villain Brick Top, who fed his enemies to pigs. While our landlord a much kinder fellow, we always feared in the back of our minds that if we effed up, our flat would be fish food. We were told Nobby killed his wife (although according to the wikipedia giant gouramis with big lips are female...like Nobby?!) and also another fish placed in his tank. So the next logical step would be humans. Once he's had his first taste of human blood...may God have mercy on our souls.

Alas, we've all survived (as long as we remember to turn in our keys...). And over the months I've grown quite fond of the fish. So I put together a brief video and photo story about my time with Nobby. Make sure you hit play on the music player before viewing the video and photos. If song one makes the experience all-too-terrifying, then switch to song two for a happier tale about life with me and my pal Nobby.








Bum bummm...


Bum bummmm...


Bum bummmmm bum bum bum bum...


Bam your dead, fool!

Then again, if Nobby ever did become too big of a threat. The people of Thailand* did provide us with this option. :( Just kidding.

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Foot notes

*Actually, that's almost what the wiki entry says. Here's an excerpt: "If other fish are added to a tank, either large or small, they might be killed within a short period."

*Fact: Nightmare on Elm Street would be a scarier movie, if in fact, Freddy Kruger was a giant gourami*.

*Fact: Taylor, after passing out on a couch one evening, woke up an hour later in a cold sweat. He had just endured a dream where a gnarled Nobby IN HUMAN FORM partied all night long at the same house party Taylor was at!*

*This story is 100 percent valid. Taylor didn't sleep again for two or three days. And he couldn't party for at least eight hours.

*Thailand has a whole bunch of big ass fish. Click here, and scroll down to the section entititled "Fishing in Thailand" and prepare to scare yourself ****less. Never ever, ever go swimming in Thailand. Not even in a swimming pool. These are freshwater fish. Evil freshwater fish. If Satan has a fish tank, these are the fish that live inside it.

Day 80: THANKSGIVING AT THE PHOTO HOUSE

(A traditional turkey chicken dinner- with a side of photos)


What's a Thanksgiving dinner without crossaints, chicken and photography?

Celebrating Thanksgiving can prove to be difficult in Europe. The tradition of honoring the pilgrims for slaughtering feasting with Native Americans is not too important to British culture BELIEVE IT OR NOT!

But that's fine by me since everybody knows Thanksgiving is my least favorite holiday. I hate 90 percent of the food, I have to watch the ***** Lions play football and plus I don't need a holiday telling me when I should be thankful. Instead, I believe we should just be thankful everyday. (That's my justification for disliking this silly holiday. It's not a very good justification. shhhh...) The good news is in London it's actually easy for me to follow my "always be gracious" mantra.

This would normally be the point where I list all I'm grateful for here in London. Eh, but it's too cliche. OK, I'm actually not doing that because I'm too stuffed from eating pies. My favorite Thanksgiving treat. Still, it's true from the new sights every day to the accents to the history to the theatre to the doner kebab, it's impossible to not to feel so lucky and privileged to be spending four months here. Now if we could only find some damn pumpkin pie?

For Thanksgiving dinner at the house, it's been almost impossible to find any of the traditional Thanksgiving food. That's good news for me. Our resident chef Will Halsey led the charge in cooking the meal. No turkey. Instead tastes like chicken! Apple pie replaces pumpkin pie (all pie* is delicious, so this is acceptable). No stuffing, but there is sweet corn. No, um, turkey. But there are choreos. Mmmm. Now this I can appreciate. And we still managed to keep the Thanksgiving tradition of nearly burning down the house.*

Living in the photo house has been an interesting experience. Nine people. One house. One non-photo major (me). The goal I wanted to accomplish this semester was to see the world from completely unique perspective. From another culture's point of view. And hell, that was even possible in my own house. The age-old battle between photographers and writers (me) still rages on, but learning to see the world through a lens is something I struggled with in past classes. To not only spot a brilliant image, but to have the guts to get right in there and snap that shot and to frame it just right - you must see the world with both an artistic and frantic eye.

And while, I might never take one photo as good as any of them. I believe I'm learned from seeing my flatmates shoot thousands of pictures of the semester. I ask questions, and little by little I'm feeling more like I'm seeing the world better through the camera's eye. So thanks for that. I'm impressed by what y'all do.

Furthermore, while I have trouble taking photos of cool images. I have managed to find success taking photos of photographers taking photos of cool images. Taken from throughout this current semester, here are shots of photogs making memories: (Except Sarah, who managed to be elusive enough to escape everyone one of these photos.)

The cast of "St. Mary's Mansion Photo House"


The obligatory "British soldier" shot


Haircut in da house!


Brad surveys a good location for him to rule London from.


Dat's good beer.


That face says it all: "I've taken zero good photos at Hampstead Heath."


Tower of London


Bahhh.

I think I was in the way on this one.


Work that chicken, Will.


Halloween.
--
Foot notes

*What's better pie or cake? Overall, I feel there's a greater quanity of delicious pies (pecan, pumpkin, pudding, apple). But nothing is more savory than a rich, moist slice of chocolate cake. Let the age-old debate rages on.


*

This photo may look out of focus, but it's actually all the smoke in the room. And this photo is out of focus.

Day 36: THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT

(...in my room)



In case you were wondering what my living quarters in London looked like (you were? Wow, great!) here's a glimpse:

My room in the flat has been nicknamed the Red Light District. Try to guess why from these photos:


Psst...it's because of the red light.

My roommate Brad brought the Red Light to give our room more personality. It's worth noting here that Brad is a vampire.


However, Brad did build a really cool fort.


An ominous glow emanates from the Red Light District.

Exciting kitchen photos:



What the hell is that white glow? I don't know how to take photos.


You can't see it here, but just behind that washer is our dryer.*

My Empty Room*: A Photo Story

I moved out of my room the day I returned from Amsterdam. It was too much of a hell hole. Instead, I've spent the past week sleeping on our couch in the living room. It wasn't awkward or anything for the rest of the house.


Yes, mom/dad there's the Florida Gator pillow from our living room. It's been here all along, and no I'm not returning it.

Suddenly, after a week on the couch, I became enlightened (like that one dude on the couch in Half-Baked.) And with my new magical powers I cleaned my room with the snap of my fingers.*

Before:

Not gonna lie. The floor was like that for a week.

*POOF*

After:

Crap, forgot the iron.

Before:

Seriously, how did this room get so messy?

*BAM*

After:

And how did it get so damn clean?

Before:

Now, that's just embarrassing.

Abra

Kadabra

*Kazaam*

After:

Ta-da. A made bed complete with a book by Stephen Ambrose.

Award-winning photo story? Dur.

--
Foot notes

*Gotcha. If you've been reading my blog all along, you'd know the Brits don't use dryers. Anyway...how 'bout that spotless kitchen? Didn'tWillandSarah do a magnificent job cleaning it? Let's give them a hand

*My Empty Room was, of course, a reference to the 14th track off Queensrÿche's seminal album "Operation: Mindcrime." Who caught that homage? I know one person did. Anyway, it's my least favorite song on the album. Instead listen to the catchy "I Don't Believe in Love" or the epic closer "Eyes of a Stranger."

*The magical powers is my version of the story. My roommates might tell you a different version. But whatever they say is untrue. It was magic.

Day 6: NINE ROOMMATES. NO CUPS.

(Also, in a completely unrelated matter, our toilet is broken)

We slumped around the table. A stressful day of moving into our fully-furnished* apartment had just ended. Now we all just wanted to relax. Have a drink.

That's when we discovered the problem. No cups to drink the refreshments we had bought from the grocery store. So, like any resourceful (read: lazy) college student, we improvised with whatever cup-like items we could find in the house:

Me: Drank cranberry juice out of the carton.
Brad W.: Tossed back swigs of coke from a shot glass.
Will H.: Chugged coke from a wine glass.
AJ C.: Gulped down Strongbow from a "sapphire" Coca-Cola glass he received with his chicken tenders at McDonald's.
Sarah M.: Sipped tea from a mug that stated matter-of-factly "I ♥ Mum"


No London home is complete without a mug stating that you heart your mum.

When you're in another country, it's probably best not to sweat the little things. For once, I need to be laid back.
Two reasons:
a. I'm in a foreign country. That's just awesome.
b. I'm in a foreign country. What the hell is going on? I barely can function in America. And you expect me to fix a toilet in Great Britain.

Oh that reminds me. Other cultural adjustments we'll need to make in our apartment:
No dryers - Londoners do battle with dirty laundry with just a washer and a drying rack. It's a losing battle, in my opinion.
Faucets - Sinks here have a separate faucet for hot water and cold water. Lukewarm water is achieved by clapping your hands real fast while both faucets are running.
TV Stations - Only five measly channels. Brits pay a yearly television license fee. It gives viewers five terrestrial television stations (BBC1, BBC2, ITV1, Channel Four and Five). The good news: no commercials.* Oh and also lotsa American tv courtesy of the CW.
Paper money - The English love coinage. There's a penny, a two pence (tuppence), a five pence, a 10 pence, a 20 pence, a 50 pence, a one-pound coin (a quid) and a two-pound coin. However, the country lacks one and two pound bills. Other than the change overload, there's one other problem I foresee: a severe shortage of people making it rain.
Toilet - One toilet doesn't flush. I don't think it's actually a British thing. It's just, well um, not good.

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Foot notes
*Fully-furnished except for the fact we don't have Internet, and we won't have it for awhile. So for us college students, in actuality, it feels like our house is completely unfurnished. We reacted to the news of no Internet like the world was ending. It reminded me of a scene in Airplane II when the passengers learn the spaceship is off-course, being torn apart by asteroids and the crew has run out of COFFEE!?!?! Yeah, we reacted similarly.

Estate manager: Your plumbing is broken
Us: OK. We can go without that a couple days.
Estate manager: There's a gas leak in your stove.
Us: Ooh that's exciting. It's like an adventure.
Estate manager: Also, you won't have Internet for at least a week.
Us: AHHHHHH! How do you expect us to live in this gulag?

*Cable television and satellite does exist for a price. And actually, most Brits receive more than five channels because there's something called "freeview." It's a whole complicated matter that's not exactly easy to explain. Nor do I understand it. So instead just log off your computer. Turn on your television and watch another rerun of Deal or No Deal. There. Much easier.