Pet Peeves with a Side of I Do Not Like You

The first day back from Scotland and we had class.

It was pretty normal. We sat there and discussed Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I’ve read the book before. I still didn’t enjoy it the second time. It did bring about interesting questions about society and its views of normality as well as the suppression of emotions and the battle between good and evil. Of course when I was reading it the first time all I cared about was why any of this mattered and why I was reading it. Yay for growing up.

The rest of the day was kind of boring except for the fact that Ian McKellen was filming two doors down from where I was staying. Gandalf/Magneto was filming the new Sherlock Holmes movie a couple of doors down from me. The fangirl in me exploded everywhere. It was so great. I didn’t get to meet him but just knowing that we were basically neighbors for a few hours was enough to make my entire day.

Besides that little burst of excitement, I basically hung out with a few people and ate candy. 

This is a bit off topic and I couldn’t think of a good transition. 

Have you ever met someone that you were forced to put up with because everyone else seemed to like them? This happens to me quite a bit. I am actually terrible at putting up with people. If I don’t like you, I don’t like to associate with you in anyway. I try to give them a chance before I decide but if they don’t pass, I will not like them and I will never like them ever. My tolerance level of dealing with people I don’t like is very low. I will just exude dislike and you will be very aware that I do not like you. I try and not be very forward about my hatred but I can’t help it if it comes out once in a while.

Some of the people I cannot stand are people that try too hard. Like what are you trying so hard for? Who are you trying to impress so badly? Why does it matter so much to you? Why do you have to be acknowledged by every human being on this planet? 

Then there are the people who try too hard by talking out of their ass. If you don’t know what you’re talking about, shut up. If you are going to argue for the sake of arguing, please leave my presence because I will not put up with you. I will get you escorted out of my life. If you are just trying to get a reaction out of me, the only reaction you’ll receive is me walking away. You aren’t worth me punching you in the face. I will never do that to my fists because it would involve touching you and I have no intentions of being in physical contact with you in anyway. Goodbye.

On top of those people, there are people who try too hard by talking out of their ass and thinking they are the greatest people in the universe because of it. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people think they are better than everyone else. You aren’t better than me. I am not better than you. There might be different aspects of our lives that we are good and bad at. Just because you can play the piano does not mean you are better than me. Just because I have read a book you haven’t doesn’t mean I’m better than you. So shut the hell up. Seriously. 

Another one of my pet peeves is when people make sexist, homophobic or seriously racist jokes to be funny. I am a huge advocate in equal rights and if you think it’s funny to make a joke about how women are lesser, I will hate you til the end of time. It’s not just because I’m a woman that I am sensitive to women oppressing jokes. It is because I’m not an ignorant asshole. It’s just that I know so many people have gone through the worst times in their lives because of something they cannot control. I know so many people are fighting just for the right to be human. I know people get belittled, raped and murdered because of their gender, race or sexuality. People have killed themselves because society tells them they are wrong and see nothing bad in these “jokes” about them. People have sacrificed and are sacrificing their lives to be considered equal and you are going to sit there and joke about it? Are you that unfunny that you have to tell jokes about that? You can’t tell a damn knock knock joke instead? Oh also when I get insulted and people are like, “Learn to take a joke,” I’m like “Learn to tell a funny joke then.” How insecure are you that you have to belittle others just to feel better about yourself? It’s not funny. You’re not funny. You will never be funny. You are an asshole and I hope you play hide and seek and never get found. 

Stop being full of it and pretending like you’re the greatest human being. Oh wait, I’m sorry, I forgot you do know everything in the world. You probably wrote the bible, right? You also probably walk on water and heal the blind. You probably perform surgery with your eyes closed and can juggle 10 things in one hand. You probably know every word in the dictionary in 7 different languages. You can probably recite the entire Magna Carta to me in both english and latin. I bet you know how to play every instrument that was ever made. Ugh, why are you so smart and so much greater than everyone else in the world? How lucky I am that God has blessed my life with your presence. I would be so lost without your expert guidance in my life. Here are a few gifs to show you how much you mean to me.


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I usually don’t try to be a terrible human being but sometimes I can’t help it. Sometimes I gotta vent. Sometimes I gotta let my Mr. Hyde shine through. Literary plug = success.

Anyways, thanks for putting up with my ranting. 



Scotland: Powered by Haggis, Tea and A Whole Lot of Hills

Edinburgh, Scotland.

That will be my new address.

In the future. Not now. Sadly.

So yeah, we went to Edinburgh for the weekend and I am in love. I want Edinburgh to have my babies. That makes no sense. 

We stayed at the University of Edinburgh, which is where I will be transferring to if I ever become a millionaire in the next few days. Their beds were magical. Well compared to the one at King’s. I seriously loved everything about that city. I knew from the moment I got off the train that Edinburgh was going to be my new home. Everything about this city is beautiful. The streets are pretty. The buildings are pretty. The people are pretty. The sky is pretty…grey. The mountains are pretty. The hills are pretty and alive with the sound of music. It’s just pretty.

On the first day there, we decided to climb Arthur’s seat, which is about 822 ft high but the climb goes all around the damn hill so it’s like 134956920 miles. I don’t know why Arthur had to climb that damn high for a seat. Why couldn’t he just stay on the ground? Wouldn’t it be better to sit there instead of on a hill that is 822 ft high? How drunk was this guy? He climbs a dormant volcano and he’s like “I think I’m going to sit riiiiight here.” Yeah, it’s a volcano. 

Look at this view though.


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Like daaaayum.

Now look at me trying to raise my demonic minions from the top of the world like a true villian.


After climbing that thing, I don’t ever need to exercise again. I am now permanently fit. Perma-fit. Thanks, Arthur. 

After the leg torturing, we climbed ourselves up, tried to resuscitate ourselves, had dinner where I tried haggis, it was much creamier than I thought it would be and then headed out to explore Edinburgh. We basically just walked around until we found a place to sit and then we walked around some more.

The next day, we decided to go to Edinburgh Castle. It was pretty cool. I mean it was a castle. Castles are always cool. 

After the castle, we tried to find the Elephant House, which is where JK Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book so basically the most important place in the entire universe. We got there and it was everything I ever wanted it to be. It was cute, it was cheap and it was filled with elephants. Like real elephants, just running around the cafe, destroying things. I will never know how Rowling got any work done in there with all those elephants just stomping around, flinging their trunks like they own the place or something. 

When we got done eating, we headed out to find the grave of Tom Riddle aka Voldie. We basically walked around a graveyard for like 15 minutes trying to find a grave of a fictional character. It wasn’t creepy at all. Of course, Tom Riddle is a fictional character but Thomas Riddell isn’t. He was the inspiration for the name. So basically JK Rowling randomly stumbled into this graveyard, started walking around, found the tomb and was like, “Hmm, that sounds like a good ol’ jolly name for the most evil wizard ever.” That’s not creepy either.

We then headed out to shop, get lost a little and then end the night with some good music and great company. 

The last day, today, was an interesting one. It was our last day. We got on a bus and drove about an hour out to tour Walter Scott’s house which was cool but it took waaay too long. I was hungry, tired and just not feeling it. The most interesting part of the day was when my friend, Sarah, lost her Britrail pass. The Britrail pass is what we need to get on the train so we can travel around England. It costs about $500. Because we were the greatest friends in the world, Zack and I decided to stay with her to look for this darn thing. So we trekked our way back all the way across what was basically downtown Edinburgh, the hilliest city in the world, to find out that the people at the university aren’t the best at looking for things because we got up to her room and immediately found it under the chair in the room. They said they looked twice. I don’t know where they were looking but they must’ve been terrible at Hide and Seek when they were younger. People they were playing with are probably still hiding, waiting to be found. 

Finding it was a glorious moment. A thousand angels descending from the Heavens and sang in unison as we screamed and danced for joy. We screamed so loud, we woke up people all the way in China. My friend clutched onto that piece of paper like a newborn baby. All was good in the world and she didn’t have to pay a crap ton because a few people suck at Hide and Seek. When we got back to London, we rewarded ourselves with Chipotle and ice cream. 

Okay like Chipotle is my everything. It has been the best meal since I’ve been here and I almost cried. If I could marry Chipotle, I would. Just call me Mrs. Chipotle.

Anyways, Edinburgh has stolen my heart. I did not find an attractive Scottish boy to whisk my away with his bagpipe skills while wearing a kilt but this isn’t my last time in Scotland so it will happen, I promise you. Edinburgh, you are a place I can call home. Leaving you was the hardest thing. I would give anything to go back. I will probably end up trying to plan to move there after I graduate.



PDA with Martin Freeman

If there is one thing I learned about London, it’s that PDA is extremely normal. I’m not talking about just holding hands and pecks on the cheek. Oh no. Full on make out sessions in public where the world can witness your love. Like a couple could be having sex in the middle of the road and everyone would be like, “Oh jolly good, hats off to the happy couple.” I’m not trying to hate, like I’m glad that you are so happy to be with your bae and that you want to “express” your love for each other but could you do that somewhere else? You know, like your bedroom where I don’t have to witness your tongues battle against each other. It’s insane how many people are all up on each other like on escalators. There are couples having full on make out sessions on escalators. Really? Is that really necessary? Escalators? Is that romantic to you? Being in a dingy underground tube station, riding up on escalators, surrounded by posters advertising Matilda turns you on? Really? REEEEEALLY? Can you not? Please. I know, “You don’t have to look, you know?” I get that. I don’t. I try not to but if you’re right in front of me on the escalator or in the same Jack the Ripper tour as me, I’m going to notice. Yes, there was a couple that was way too touchy feely for a tour about a serial killer who liked to cut open prostitutes. Whatever floats your boat, dude but I think you need to get your boat and take it like 3000 miles away. If my lover tried to make out with me while I was listening to a guy talk about how a woman was stabbed in the genitalia multiple times, I would question the relationship entirely from then on. It probably wouldn’t last that long. There is a good chance, we won’t be together by the end of the tour. I’m sorry but no.

What a way to start this post. Genitalia stabbings and make out sessions.

Anyways, today was a pretty normal day so far. It was nice walking around Leicester Square, which for the life of me cannot pronounce. We tried to get tickets for the Lion King but that wasn’t all too successful. We did go to M&M’s World and it was glorious. I mean, it’s m&m’s. There were statues of the m&m’s all over the store. The store was also like 3 stories. 3 stories of chocolate. Perfection.

Nothing much happened for the rest of the night. I panicked a little about life and other things. I was obnoxious and my filter for anything flew out the window with my dignity. I did however get tickets to Richard III which has Martin Freeman in it. The seats we got are also right on stage with him.

This is my chance to look deeply into his eyes and make him mine. I am not one for PDA, obviously, did you even read this post? However, this is the one time I will accept PDA.

I told myself I wanted to find a nice Englishman to bring back to the States and I think I found one, Martin Freeman. He better get ready because we are about to have a love story better than Romeo and Juliet…except any love story is probably better than Romeo and Juliet because they kill themselves at the end and that’s clearly not very romantic. They were also in their teens. Why must thou be ratchet hoes?

Martin Freeman and I will not be ratchet hoes and our love will blossom and it shall be glorious. tumblr_n5ew0ghWdA1tuf6e9o1_1280

I’ll see you in a few weeks, you glorious man you.

For now, I must sleep because I have to wake up at the butt crack of dawn to head to Edinburgh, Scotland. I’ll see you in a few days, people who read my posts. Did I mention that I love you all? Seriously. You’re great. I like what you did with your hair. It looks great on you! Did you lose weight? You are looking too good. Are you an angel or something? Because wow. Just wow. You’re stunning. Did it hurt falling from Heaven?



Harry Potter and The One With All The Walking Tours.

Two days and two walking tours later, my feet have petitioned to no longer be attached to my body.

Tuesday, for class, we went on a Sherlock walking tour. We basically walked around central London learning about Sherlock and went to spots in different stories of Sherlock. It was pretty cool. Our tour guide was Scottish and I am determined to marry a Scottish man because damn. Good thing, I’m going to Scotland this weekend because I will find a man and dub him bae.

After the walking tour, we decided to go to King’s Cross and wait in line for 45 mins to get a picture with the trolley at the famous Platform 9 3/4. It was totally worth the wait. We ate some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. I had myself a nice taste of grass. Yum. Does that count as my vegetable for the day?

Later we tried to go on the Jack the Ripper walking tour but we couldn’t find it so we just walked along the Thames River and crossed the Tower Bridge. It was quite amazing. It was so pretty. Here look at pretty.

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Today, we had class again. It was okay. I was extremely tired and my professor asked to see me after the end of class. She asked at the beginning of class so the entire class time I was super nervous because I was sure she was going to behead me. It just turns out I’m extremely stupid and forgot to turn something in. I also realized I’m terrible at english. Why am I an english major? I got some serious life thinking to do.

At night, we decided to try again with the Jack the Ripper tour. It somehow turned into us powerwalking all the way from the Temple Station to the Tower of London which is a solid 2 mile walk. We also hadn’t eaten dinner so it was worse but it was an adventure and we got there with enough time to inhale a sandwich and make it to the place we were supposed to meet the tour guide.

I didn’t know a whole lot about Jack the Ripper. All I knew before the tour was that he killed a bunch of prostitutes. It turns out he killed a bunch of prostitutes in the most gruesome way a human can be murdered. It made my skin crawl listening to the tour guide describe the killings. The one part that scared me the most was that no one heard the murders. Apparently there were people living right above where the first murder was and a couple of people sitting in a building and the only thing that divided them and the murder was a glass window. HOW DO YOU NOT HEAR ANYTHING? WHAT? How are you so careful and quick that no one hears you gruesomely murder a woman? He also killed someone in broad daylight and was walking around with a bloody knife and her uterus. Excuse me? How about we don’t and say we never did? Oh here, let me just carve out her uterus and carry it around in my pocket. Let’s give that big NO and move on.

The last murder was the worst of them all. I will not go into detail because just hearing it described will give me nightmares. They never found out who did it. It will forever be a mystery but there is no mystery in the fact that he is now dead. Bye.

Also FYI do not image search Jack the Ripper or his victims. Just don’t do it. Okay? Don’t. You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re doing it. Okay well then. You are terrible at following directions unless you really aren’t doing it then good for you. Here’s a gold star.



Now I don’t want to leave you people who tried but couldn’t help themselves with nothing. Here you go.



Anywhoooo, one thing I love about London or any city in Europe is that the modern and the classic coexist. There will be a beautiful Victorian church right next to a business building with all windows. It’s stunning. Just imagining that some building were here hundreds of years ago and are still standing and still in use is an amazing thought. It leaves me awestruck every time I think about it.

I also just started watching Doctor Who so I can be hip like all you crazy kids. I am kind of in love with it so far. It’s so good. The first series is super cheesy so far but I am loving it. So excuse me while I continue watching Doctor Who and eat some Jammie Dodgers. Brb, too busy being hip.


Cool Kids on Baker Street

Today was the first day of classes and well it was alright. It was class. We sat there for about 3 hours talking about books. It was pretty good if you’re into that kind of stuff.

After class, I ate some weird sausages and went to the Sherlock Holmes Museum with people from my class. It was what you would call a dream come true. I mean I grew up on Sherlock Holmes. My dad used to buy me the old BBC series from 1965 on DVD whenever he traveled and I got so into detective stuff. It was the only thing I ever asked him to buy for me when he traveled. I didn’t want candy, toys or shiny things. Just the 1965 version of Sherlock Holmes on DVD. Like an ordinary child.


Scooby Doo, Sherlock Holmes, The Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew and Pokemon were my life. Pokemon really isn’t a detective show but it solves the mystery of the meaning of life so there’s that for ya.


Anyways, going to Sherlock Holmes’ apartment at 221B Baker Street had my childhood fangirl screaming everywhere. It was amazing. I was amazed. It was really creaky and tiny though but what would you expect? It opened in like 1990.

Afterwards, we tried to go to Millennium Bridge, ended up at the National Portrait Gallery which is nowhere close. Story of my life. Nothing ends up the way it’s supposed to. The gallery was really interesting. It was just an entire gallery of portraits of famous people. I was walking down the main hallway of the 1st floor where there were portraits hanging on the walls and busts along the way as well. I realized how creepy it would be to be there when the lights weren’t on. Well any of the rooms with the lights off would be the creepiest thing. What if they come to life and kill you or make you watch Sharknado a hundred times or something else that’s terrible? Terrifying.

Oh this place had the portrait of Kate Middleton and it is perfection. She is perfection. I want to be her. I need to be her.



I got gelato after dinner with some other people and nothing went wrong except I keep forgetting my damn tube pass. I am terrible at keeping things. I’m terrible at remembering where things are. I’m just a very unorganized, forgetful, idiotic human being. How I’m even alive is a mystery.

Today I also realized how dorky I am. I mean I always kind of knew but today I was like “How do I have friends?” I am super into video games, detective novels, Pokemon, Digimon, Legos and literature. I could talk about those things for days but mention sports to me and I’ll be like, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language.” Unless it’s soccer, I am clueless and I am not athletic. I tried to be one of those athletic kids at school growing up but I soon realized that I don’t like moving so that was no go. I was definitely one of the unpopular kids at school. Whatever, my mom says that I’m average so I must be cool. Wait no. That’s not right. I was even unpopular with my parents and I’m an only child. Nah, my parents love me, I think. I don’t mind being uncool because I don’t think I would like things cool kids like such as the outdoors, being around humans, interacting with those humans, dressing nice, being able to get social cues, not eating an entire thing of biscuits by yourself while reading Harry Potter, playing sports and going to rollerskating rinks, popping your collar and grooving to some Elvis while combing your slick gelled hair with a tiny comb. That’s what they do, right? I don’t know. I’m like 76% sure I’m right. Cool.

So today was a success so now I shall do my homework while thinking of reasons why I shouldn’t do my homework. Perfect.

Thanks for reading this. I’m glad you find it at least a little entertaining to read about someone else’s study abroad experience especially mine. I mean I’m not the most entertaining person but I’m trying to do some crazy ass things like going outside so I have something to write about here and keep you all engaged. You’re welcome.



Beautiful Men and Church

Day 3.

I have not died yet. It’s a miracle. 

Some of us went to St. Paul’s Cathedral for church and let me tell you, it was one of the best experiences. It was beautiful and it was the first time I’ve been to church since summer started. I mean what better way to go back to church. 

I’ve been to St. Paul’s before and I got to climb to the top of it and it was one of the best things I’ve done in my life. I absolutely love this place. The architecture is absolutely stunning like every other historic building in London but St. Paul’s is something else. 

Afterwards we ate a pub that was built out of Christopher Wren’s boat. He was one of the best architects in history. After the Great Fire in London, he helped rebuild a bunch of buildings including St. Paul’s Cathedral. Like damn. You go, Wren.

I’m still not used to the food. I’m not complaining because I love food but I just haven’t found something I went “Holy poop, this is amazing.” I shall keep looking. For science. 

Later in the night, the final World Cup game was on and we headed out to a pub to watch it except all the pubs were full near where we lived so we somehow ended up somewhere in south London (we live in North London) and the game wasn’t even playing where we went so I watched it on my phone but before I could see Germany win, we had to leave and there was no wifi so I found out who won 2 hours after it ended like some peasant. I demand wifi to be free and to be EVERYWHERE. 

Can we dwell for a moment as we fill ourselves with excitement over Germany winning the World Cup? Germany was ON POINT this World Cup. I mean I am like in love with Messi but the entire Germany team is bae. I am obsessed with soccer, oh sorry, I mean football players. They are all so fit and gorgeous looking. Just look at Germany’s team.





Need more proof? Okay now look at this photoshoot Dolce & Gabbana did with Italy’s players.



Like my ovaries are everywhere. I am determined to marry a football player. Just wow.

As the day comes to an end, I am still trying to finish work for my class tomorrow. Class is going to suck because I am not in a very “hey let’s go to school and gobble up some knowledge” mood. I’m more in a “hey, let’s not go to class and gallivant around London, tearing shit up” mood. I’m not ready at all. I have no notebooks, pencils or pens. I have nothing ready. I am ill-prepared. What a great start to school, Jonny. You out did yourself.


London, The City of Terrible Wifi, Expensive Everythings and Glorious Dreams

Hola, my people.

So I am in London and I will be in London for about a month, studying literature, which is kind of like a dream come true but classes haven’t started yet so I can’t be too sure. I will try and write about my experience here because I discovered that my life is basically a mess of stories that needs to be told.
Let me just say that jet lag is killer. Nothing too special happened when we got here. We got situated and tried to not die from the tiredness. My friend and I explored the area a but and dinner came and we met people in our classes so we could be better acquainted like orientation all over again. Nothing like feeling like a freshman again.

“Hey, what’s your name? What’s your major? Where you from?”

After dinner, a few of us decided to spontaneously see Big Ben, which was a blast and three quarters. I mean look at this picture.

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What a stud, am I right?

After we just kind of kept walking around and exploring and then eventually ended up at a pub. We made some new friends, created some memories and made London our lover. The typical Friday night stuff.
There is one interesting thing I learned from last night’s experience; just because a boy has an accent does not mean he’s not a douche. Apparently British boys don’t like to approach girls, well at least the british boys around this neighborhood. They just kind of stare at you and it’s like “okay? you trying to talk or naw?”

Also I meant to post the first part this morning but obviously that didn’t happen. I kind of forgot how to function this morning like usual.

So I’m gonna fill you in on today as well because I know you are just dying to know, you nosy son of a gun.

Second day, we had our orientation for classes and safety and stuff afterwards we went on a city bus tour. It was pretty rad. It was just the usual tourist-y stuff. After the tour, a couple of friends and I decided to explore Central London by ourselves. Our first destination was food because I mean do you know me? After food, we headed towards the London Eye. The line was too long and it was hot as the blazing rage of a thousands suns. We decided to go another time when people weren’t thirsting after the London Eye.

We decided to go to the National Gallery by Trafalgar Square, the home of the giant blue chicken statue. I mean there are other things like the Nelson Column commemorating the victory of the battle of Trafalgar and the National Gallery with numerous classical masterpieces but there is literally a giant blue chicken statue just chilling there.

See, here I am posing with my new friend, the giant blue chicken.

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We are too fresh to death.

We saw art. Some artworks had the most obvious names such as the one called “A man aged 38″ and he was holding a paper that read 38. Here’s the painting and yes there are a lot of pictures in this post. Let us build a bridge and get overeth.


Like I get that it’s a masterpiece and the details are awesome and blah blah blah but like does he really need to hold a paper with a 38. Was he like “yo, no one is going to believe I’m 38, make sure people know, okay?” Was he just really passionate about being 38? I mean it was like a big deal to live past the age of 30 back then in the 1500s, right? He just looks so proud to be 38. He’s just thinking, “Hell yeah 38 you ratchet hoes ain’t got nothing on me.”

Because of these marvelous paintings, I decided to have some fun. There is an example provided below.

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Soon after this enlightening time, we headed to Buckingham Palace. I just really wanted to see the royal corgis. I mean imagine the queen just strolling out in the courtyard of Buckingham palace with the corgis on a leash, playing catch and letting her servant pick up the poop. I would guess that she has people that take them out for walks but once in a while, she would want to do it herself and in front of a hundred tourists. Fabulous. After leaving the home of dreams, we went to Harrods, the big fancy department store THAT HAS NO PLACE TO SIT. We had been walking all day and the walk to Harrods made me think that setting myself on fire would’ve been a better idea. We were hungry, tired and our feet were screaming profanity that put all other profane words to shame. Once we finally left Harrods, we tried to find a little cafe to sit and relax but it was like they were all hiding from us. After a terrible search, we got food and we headed back home.

Today was exhausting. Yesterday was exhausting. Life is exhausting. I’m exhausted but I am so deeply in love with this city. This place might have terrible wifi, frightening drivers, expensive everythings and horrible conversion rates but it’s a place of beautiful dreams and unicorns and rainbows and magic. I might never leave.

Thanks for putting up with this long ass post. I’ll keep things short from now on. You guys are great.