Sweet Home Arizona

A blog following a third year American Studies student from the University of Leicester, now in perpetually-sunny Arizona for a whole year. Yes, it's hot. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-33806024-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();

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As this blog was reserved for my year abroad, I now mostly use www.thebestdaysarethefirsttoflee.tumblr.com so you should go follow that instead for pictures of boobs etc

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How have you handled the heat thus far? I've lived in AZ for 10 years and I still have trouble with it sometimes.

After having been there for only a year I definitely struggled towards the end of my year abroad (May/June time) but I did notice I coped with it better in general. When I first got there I found it unbearable, but by the time it started to get really hot again (April ish I guess) I didn't notice it as much. Coming back to a humid England almost seems worse, especially without the luxury of A/C!

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As you must know, I am awful at updating this blog, so you'll all be suprised to know that I will be blogging for University of Leicester American Studies on their student blog site. And getting paid! I'll be putting out 3-4 blogs a month, on general student experiences and any topics I can think of that are generally university related (with a slightly U-rated slant as they are moderated - no more strip club tales unfortunately).

Stay tuned as they should be starting this week!

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'ASU: The land of... stupidity?

I love America, I really do. And I love a lot of the people that I've met so far. But Americans, there are a few letting the team down. Here are some rather silly questions and statements I have heard since being here:

'You use the dollar, right?... Oh! Of course not, you use the Euro... you don't? But then.... what do you use?'

'What does advert mean? ... oh, we call them commercials.'

'Does the Sun revolve around the Earth, or the Earth around the Sun? I can't remember.'

'Do you actually have cars over in England, or do you all  just use the tube?'

'Oh I took the lube once' (meaning the tube, I hope).

'Do you listen to American music over there?'

'Do you have McDonalds?' (If places like Afghanistan have Mcdonalds, I'm fairly sure the UK would get them).

'Everyone has a London accent from England though right? I thought you all had the same accent?'

'Are you from Australia?'

Various confusion over the difference between England/GB/UK

'Australia is near England though... yeah they use the Euro'

'What do you think of the Queen?'

'Oh, your teeth don't actually look that bad!'

'Are you still annoyed about 1776?'

'Where is cockney?'

'I didn't know the Middle East was actually a place... do we like, have beef with them or something?'

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Packing

Have you ever tried fitting a herd of baby elephants into a matchbox? I imagine my packing is what that would feel like.

Despite having given clothes for various members of my family to take home, I'm still left with an army of vests and some clothes I don't even remember acquiring that need rolling into tight sausage bundles. Yes, I'm going with the tedious but effective rolling technique. No amount of folding can help me now.

After the clothes there are shoes (when did I buy those ones?), toiletries (I can't throw it all away) and the infamous nail polish collection (I paint with all colours of the wind. Literally. They're all here).

And of course, after all of that, there is paper. Lots. And lots. Of paper. 'I did well on that essay' 'That meal was so good I saved the receipt' 'That was my first grocery shop of the year'. It's all going back with me, for a scrapbook I plan (but can't promise) to put together. Call me overly sentimental; you'd be right. I used to save rocks from holidays I'd been on (not the pretty sort either), and my sister famously brought a bag of sand home from one particular holiday. No, not five grand. A literal bag of sand.

Despite the prospect of an almost certain hernia from lifting my cases and lugging them around, I can't bear to throw a lot of it away. This year has been filled with many memories, and as my memory seems to get worse every year I'll need all the scraps of paper I can find.

I can't even remember what I was doing.

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Quickie

Despite currently ploughing my way through another road trip with the ward/ward/ward/ward/cooper clan, I'm also catching up on blogging spring break. Just a quick update: so far I have tackled the greyhound from Phoenix to LA, 4 buses and the metro to the LA hotel, San Diego, Palm Springs, phoenix (again), grand canyon (second time in a month), and monument valley. Tonights stay is in Page, Arizona, before heading up to Utah tomorrow morning for antelope canyon and Bryce canyon. When I say 'morning', what I really mean is the crack of dawn. Noone warned me this holiday included 6am wake up calls.

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Party In The USA - March Edition

Just kidding, it was Spring Break in the form of a road trip. Also I have to apologise to everyone I know but mostly to myself for allowing a Miley Cyrus reference to creep into my title. Yes, I’m ashamed. For one glorious week of March, myself, Devon (http://royallytenenbaumed.tumblr.com/), Dustin (http://youngscrappyandhungry.tumblr.com/), Omni and Jaiman were part of a crime fighting team travelling in and around the west coast. And only one part of that sentence isn’t true. In just one week we travelled through six states, at least 5 record shops, and acquired only one speeding ticket (in Idaho of all places. We really thought they’d appreciate we were just trying to get out as fast as we could, but apparently 120mph is a tad excessive). We first drove to San Francisco, a mere 10 hour drive with five people packed into an average sized car. This would not be the worst drive we had to endure (coincidentally neither was the 17 hour drive at the end). San Francisco was a gargantuan cityscape for a small town girl such as myself. Quite honestly, the skyscrapers unnerved me, and the hills legitimately nearly crippled at least two of us. But nevertheless we persevered, and once we’d seen the Coit Tower it was all downhill from there (only literally!) We wandered around the financial district (very swanky), Chinatown, and then headed on the BART (underground) to a lesser known district called Mission. Busier, clearly poorer, and generally uglier, we roamed the streets dipping into thrift stores (charity shops, yes) along the way. Despite its rough edges, I rather liked it.  Stay tuned for Portland adventures...

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Things America has taught me about life: Vol. 1.5

My poor English skin cannot cope with the intense Arizona sun. See exhibit A, the pale girl cowering in the corner with fantastic zebra-stripe tan lines and glowing reddish hues.

Any attempt at an American accent I do will be considered good, as most American attempts at British accents are so excruciatingly awful.

Concentrated juice/cordial/squash does not exist in a normal form here. I've been looking for 9 months and all I've been offered is a strange powder that I genuinely fear would poison me.

For the most part, people don't grow tired of the English accent. It still surprises me, as I fail to be charmed by American accents.

I instantly dislike other English people being near me, because here I am a rare and special breed and everyone should love me for it.

Essays still don't write themselves.

I'm still able to find a million ways to procrastinate. So far, my skills include: french plaiting my own hair, painting my nails perfectly, reading a book in 3 hours, learning a piano piece in 30 minutes, cleaning my entire room, fishtail plaiting my own hair, applying for and simultaneously being rejected from more jobs than any human has ever applied for, cleaning out my inbox, burning my skin to oblivion by the pool. And writing pointless blogs.

I'm too busy to drink today/go outside/socialise but there is always time for Skype with family and friends.

Weight creeps up on the best of us when there are unlimited food choices with unlimited food.

Dollars aren't real money and therefore my bank account makes no sense.

People from home become even more annoying when all you have to monitor them by is their facebook statuses and tweets. #noonecares

Coathangers are a semi-essential tool in life but those of us that don't own any are innovative, creative souls. Also stingy and lazy, we are those things too.

Girl scout cookies are made from angel tears and fairy souls and we should all take a moment to thank whatever deity there is for their existence.

I am possibly more English now than when I left England.

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Thanks, America.

Only three months late, but I'm here to tell you a little story about how my life got flipped, turned upside down.

Just kidding, but Thanksgiving was pretty great as far as holidays go.

Firstly, it meant a three day weekend, which is never a bad thing. It also meant I was allowed to eat my body weight in food and not feel guilty. In fact, it was celebrated, with the highest honours being bestowed to those who went back for seconds (thirds, and fourths).

I was lucky enough to stay with my friend Alex's family, and even luckier that his mum is from England (and so can make amazing cups of tea, a rarity in a country that finds adding milk to tea preposterous). I'm not entirely clear what the purpose of Thanksgiving actually is, and I'm not entirely sure anyone else is, but what I do know is that everyone is very happy to celebrate it. And most people just go ahead and call it Turkey Day anyway, completely shirking the historical significance that gives them a day off. I'll be honest, I would too. The whole day centered (literally) around the amazing turkey Alex's mum had made, and as you will see in the photos to come, it did not disappoint. 

The evening of Thanksgiving was spent eating leftovers and drinking with Alex and his friend Brendon... apparently we watched a Harry Potter film, much to my insistence... by 2am the boys had fallen asleep and I was left sipping my rum & eggnog (which by this point was mostly rum with not a lot of eggnog. Never get drunk friends to make your drinks. Or always do, I'm not sure which is better). Something I'm learning about America: they find a holiday for everything. And this is my favourite so far (unless there are any others solely based around food. Then it's that one. It's always that one.)

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'You came up with the language, but we perfected it'

- Said every American I have ever met.

It's a well know fact that Brits add 'u''s in words where they are not needed, use 's' instead of 'z', and on the whole pronounce things differently. More eloquently, if you will.

And Americans do not like this one bit. They use the argument that they have perfected the English language (the hint is in the name, guys), but take note: 

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-19929249 30 Britishisms used by Americans - so when they think they've found a new word or that we say it wrong, chances are we already knew about it, perfected it, and came up with an abbreviation to save us some precious tea-drinking or scone-eating time.

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Occasionally I wake up at the crack of dawn (literally, this usually means before midday), and I'm lucky enough to see this.

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The only thing that makes drinking home-brewed beer on a porch in January better is the Arizona sunset.

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I will pay you $80 in one dollar bills to turn around.

'So Mum tells me you've been going to strip clubs...'

An entirely inaccurate statement by my sister with special thanks to my mother. Well, not entirely inaccurate. I did visit a strip club, one time, but I'm far from frequenting them. Especially after the sights I saw that night...

I wouldn't usually go to such an establishment, but as it was a guy's birthday everyone seemed satisfied that it was justification enough to see naked ladies. And by naked, I mean, naked.

Thankfully they don't allow photos to be taken of the girls, because classy they were not. Within two minutes of walking in I had a conversation with a scantily clad girl, and only about 10 minutes later did I think her (lack of) attire was slightly odd. Lovely lady though, we briefly bonded over shoes.

Just to give you an idea of the standard of the place, it was called 'Dream Palace', but was far from the stuff dreams are made of. Unless they're nightmares. Then it's wholly accurate.

Regardless of seeing more lady parts than I would prefer, and seeing a spot on one of the girl's arses that could've been given its own geographical coordinates, it was still a fun night. Shockingly, pre-drinks ran until 1am (usually the end of the night for most Americans I've found) and we somehow ended up getting there in a limo.

So at least one part of the night was classy.

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Posts pending

I have promised a few specific posts that date back to events from November (awful I know) but until I get round to writing those, enjoy this little article about British stereotypes. Sorry, but form an orderly queue... http://www.independent.co.uk/student/into-university/overseas/what-are-the-british-really-like-901366.html

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December sun on asu campus

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Same as usual - click for captions!