The "I've probably had too much red wine at this point" blog post

Hello again!

I know I know, I haven’t written a blog in a month and you’ve all been simply desolate without my witty posts, I’m terribly sorry. Anyways…where to begin-these last few weeks have been absolute madness. Working out all the kinks in moving across the Atlantic and whatnot, takes work, who knew? But I don’t want to bore you with my stressful…stuff. Oh heck, what else do you write/ read a blog for if not to talk about the humdrum things in life. So here are my humdrums: being the outrageously intelligent person  that I am, I horrendously miscalculated my finances for the first months, so it was what I like to call a “skinny” couple of weeks. Today however, remedied that when I was able to get my hands on my money from back in Chico and I promptly bought enough groceries for ten people(whoops). There’s still the occasional “oops, I’m on the wrong, bloody tube” moments, the “did I really just say bloody?” moments, the “dear Lord, I have to top up my Oyster card AGAIN?!” and let’s not forget the “let’s drink wine and watch Harry Potter till we’re crying and laughing for literally no reason at all “moments. I’ve also had the experience of finding a spider larger than I care to think about and having to bludgeon it to death. Okay enough of that though, now my own humdrums are boring me too, so let us move on to the bigger and better things yes?

First of all, I’d like to take this time to point out that I live in London. A small fact that I still can’t get over and tends to hit me in the most inconvenient of times; for example, last week on the tube, surrounded by strangers I suddenly got all giddy and couldn’t stop grinning like a fool because I realized that I’m living my dream. Never had so many strange looks from people in my life, okay I have but whatever, I was making a point. That point being that there is something so satisfying about living the life that you have worked so hard to achieve and not to toot my own horn here but I worked pretty damn hard for this. And although I know that the hard work has only just begun, I think, if I may, that I’ve quite deserved this. Toot.

And now I have to mention one itty bitty negative thing, because it’s a blog and it just can’t all be happy go lucky stuff, and because a girl’s gotta complain every now and again. Never fear though, it’s just a wee thing. You see, ever since got here, I’ve referred to it as home. Because that’s what it feels like, and how I feel when I’m here, is at home. Makes sense right? But there have been people who have actually corrected me when I’ve done that. Tried to tell me that no, I’m not home, because Chico is obviously the only home I’ll ever have. Which I’ll be honest, really, really irritates me. First, I am home. Because home is not just one place, if I may be so bold as to say so, home is wherever you feel at home. Furthermore, my home is not solely in Chico, or in Ealing, it’s wherever I feel at home. Second of all, please don’t presume to know where my home is. I can’t even name all the places that I feel at home, and that I consider to be home. I certainly don’t mean to point fingers or insult these people but when I refer to this as home, please, don’t correct me.

….Awkward. I feel like I just lectured a small child and now I have to carry on. So let’s talk about something else. School! School is going wonderfully. Mostly.  The last couple of weeks have been focused on hair, which is twice as exhausting as makeup.  Personally I’ve really struggled with hair, It’s not something I excel in or that comes naturally to me, like makeup. Trying to manage my mop of hair is difficult enough but rolling, tonging and styling other people’s hair? Forgetaboutit! In the beginning, everything I did seemed to consistently end up a sticky, overly curled mess that I could maybe pass off as a “messy but styled” look. Recently, it’s gotten better. Despite my burned and blistered fingertips I can actually produce something that looks vaguely like a fashionable hairstyle, which is really exciting for a girl whose go-to is a bun on the top of her head. At any rate, it’s hard but it’s getting better, and now it’s time for these burned and traumatized fingers to stop typing out my rambling thoughts and go to bed because they’ve had a rough day. Like trying to open a very stubborn bottle of wine, which sums up my week thus far perfectly, so goodnight my friends, forgive me for my rambling blog.

xoxo

Crumpets and Curls

I promised myself that I would write a blog the second I got to England so that I could begin this epic journey with you all throughout my time here…clearly that worked very well. At any rate, here we are, one week and two days into the six months that I will be spending here, and it is going along fabulously! If ever I felt at home, it’s here, in the small borough of Ealing, tucked away in a western corner of London town.

There’s something very quaint and delightful about Ealing. I’m not sure how to describe it, which if you know me at all; you know how infuriating I find not being able to describe something. The people are friendly, but still, you know, British. There are a myriad of brick houses and studios and flats, one could get lost in the identical architecture of them, literally…I speak from experience. The Mall, a number of blocks with a wide variety of shops, businesses, and restaurants is about a 20 minute walk from my flat and it is truly delightful. Hundreds of people bustling about on their daily business, glaringly red double decker buses scrape around corners; taxis rush around each other and dodge pedestrians like nobody’s business. There are more shops than I could ever explore, French clothes to Polish bakeries, and almost literally everything in between. I can’t get anywhere without bumping into someone or consequently being bumped into, it’s almost more strange to not get bumped. The diversity of the people is one of my favorite things about Ealing. There are languages being spoken and I have no idea what they might be, there are people from every part of England and the U.K., from the Middle East, Africa, Asia, and the occasional American too. It’s amazing how little I hear English being spoken out on the streets. Despite the challenges of being somewhere so completely different than Chico, I find myself loving the adjustment process. My first week went by so quickly, I can only imagine how fast the rest of my time will fly by,(I'm trying not to think about that too much) but in the meantime, I want to tell you a bit about my time here thus far.

The first week was quite chaotic, between running amok trying to find things to detail and furnish my humble abode, trying to get to know my roommate, maneuvering around a new city, and spending some last minute time with my parents, I felt as though I might pop. Yet, here I sit, successfully un-popped and settled in. Mostly. It really depends on your definition of "settled in". Anyways, my first night here was….interesting. It was a Bank Holiday(still not sure what that really is) and all the stores were closing early. A fact that I was not aware of until I stood in front of a store brimming with necessities and was literally left out in the rain. So, after a cold walk in the rain and wind, my roommate, Stefanie, and I made it back to our home and promptly went to bed. Unfortunately, one of the necessities locked out of my grasp was a blanket for my bare bed, so I spent the night swaddled in a sheet along with sweats, a sweater, wool socks, a beanie and a sweatshirt. Not the most pleasant of sleeps. However, the next day was distinctly more positive and we managed to get a very cozy blanket along with other stuff that I won’t bore you with. So to summarize, last week was mostly me and my parents running around, buying things and trying to see some sights in London, eventful to say the least.

The last two days have possibly been the best so far, even giving my night at Richard the Third a run for its money. Yesterday I started school at Delamar Academy of Makeup and it’s been amazing. I realize it’s probably not as exciting to people less passionate about makeup design, but just humor me. Yesterday was my first day and after trying so desperately to look extra good because, I mean it’s beauty school, my curled hair flattened in about ten minutes and my makeup nearly vanished shortly after. Cheers London weather. Upon arriving to the school, wet and humbled, I was dismayed to see that all my classmates were distinctly prettier than myself. Of course it didn’t help that I looked like a drowned, Californian rat who was way out of her element, which let’s face it, I am. At any rate, I mustered my pride and managed to at least act like I was confident throughout the whole debriefing. A few hours later, after lunch, my pride got kicked to the curb again as we all had to strip off our makeup and bare all to people we hardly knew, a hard task if you have terrible skin. Then we received our makeup kits for the course, and I swear to you, I heard angels sing when I got my kit. Filled to the brim with makeup and tools, and our textbook, it was and still is a beautiful thing. After rooting through our loot and oohhh-ing and ahhh-ing, my classmates and I plunged ahead under our tutor’s guidance and began the basics of beauty. This is essentially just foundation and blemish coverage along with some concealing techniques. At the end of the day we packed up, carted our makeup kits back home so we could have a proper look at all the goodies inside and rubbed our sore shoulders that had to lug 10 pounds of makeup home. It might not sound like much, I realize, but to me it was the best first day at school that I’ve ever had. It’s so much more fun to learn something that you love and enjoy, and I can’t wait to see where this course takes me. More on that later, for now, it’s time to fetch my laundry from outside before it stops drying and starts freezing.

Xoxo