Tales from the teenage trenches.

I made a new friend today. Her name is Kate. And she likes my 'threads' (which is super cool American slang for sense style). Unfortunately our meeting was cut short because I prompty left as I swear I saw my sister in a crowd of faces on college campus...so much so that I crossed the street just to make sure it wasn't her. It was one of those cases where you KNOW it's not her, I mean, there's absolutely no chance it could even be her, but I was so sure. Call me crazy. I GUESS it must mean I'm missing her. On some regard. Maybe. Like a miss my car. I miss my car Sir Lancerlot so much. I had a dream that I forgot how to drive him. Like, I went home and just forgot how to drive. And then conincidentally I had to sell Lancerlot for bus money...because I had to resort to public transportation for the rest of my life....and evidently needed the funds to do it. I woke up in cold sweats. I might be seeing my sister in a crowd of faces because of the t-asty American cookie dough I bought and baked, which reminds me of her. I share my baking with my friends, and amazingly have discovered that Pierre's place is fantastic for people watching...especially in the evenings. Lit-up apartments in a complex during the night....hell yes. 

Katherine and I ate cookies for dinner. NO PARENTS AROUND. KIDZ RULE.

Tim and Jeppe with their guns. #merica

A NEU hockey game

Torben at the Harvard book store

Down Huntington Ave

The police have made 337 their number one stop to shut down parties recently. The fuzz are all over it. I have to hide on such a regualr basis now that people have started calling me 'Caty - student by day...' because it's announced there's police at the door and then BOOM she's vanished. Often they can still hear me but not see me. A ninja, man I'm telling you. I've gotten really good and QUICK at hiding from the fuzz. And when they're not calling me that or other flattering nicknames, I'm known as 'Caty Popstar' due to an awkward revealing of my old hotmail account. It wasn't good.

A dinner occasion

Viv tehe

Also, Americans seem to have some funny spins on common words that...I don't know, they've never adapted to saying correctly.
Eg; "Michael Foo-ko" for Michael Foucault 
"Lee-sure" for leisure
"Gall" for gaol. 

Hipster Torben

Love those fall colours

Also, it's been three months but people still swivel their heads in shock horror when I speak in class. Honestly. My lecturer was chatting to me after class the other day about prison corrections in Australia and I mentioned something and he said, "Oh yes, I know you have the states down there." Yes. Sir yes we do have states in Australia. One kid in my class shouted out, eager eyed; "Is it true that EVERYTHING in Awes-stray-lia can KILL YOU?!" And my German friend Torben once said; "Aren't you afraid to leave your house in Australia...because everything can kill you?" 

Me and Jeppe

But apart from all that killing and drama, life is generally good. The girls came over the other night, we all got under the covers in my bed and watched The Inbetweeners. It's a hilarious British TV show that Annie showed us, and now every time I watch it I always think of her. So when I'm finally home and watch it it will transport me to a place when all I do is think of my American college friends. Sneaky bugger. I'll be sitting on my bed in tears and my sister will come in and look at the sobbing mess before her and think 'isn't this meant to be a comedy series?' We made tea, but I only have one mug (duh) so we had it in red solo cups. Orange juice Friday morning, alcohol on Saturday night and tea on Sunday. Red solo cup conquers all occasions. It was Viv's first PROPER cup of tea and I was horrendously ashamed that she had to experience it in a red solo cup, with a teabag, with American milk, with American sweetener instead of sugar...but that's all we could do. Annie is a terrible tea snob but she didn't seem to complain too much. That's college for ya.

Things are good, I'm enjoying the ever-present company of my friends and co-dwellers, especially when we just hang out after a busy day, eat dinner or watch movies. A truly great group of internationals I've been thrown together with. They all accept me for who I am, and put up with all my quirkiness and just general embarrassment. When I think about leaving in under a month it makes my stomach knot. 

Also making my stomach knot, in a less pathos-fashion, I came home the other day and Katherine had somehow managed to break the stove, so a constant stream of deadly gas was injecting itself into our apartment. That was fun.

I attempted to fix it, failed, opened all the windows, and went to bed hoping I would wake up again.

Good news - I did.