Nousing it up

In all of my descriptions of fabulous weekend adventures, I have neglected to talk about my experiences on campus (kind of weird, considering it is 5/7ths of my life here). To be perfectly honest with you, my life on campus is basically Nouse, the newspaper. So this entry is dedicated to them.

As you all know, I was pretty freaked when I first joined (I'm the weird outsider that people have to put up with during socials!), but to my surprise, the British kids really reached out to me. This was strange to me (considering English people tend to be awkward with me at the start), but I think they sensed my loneliness and unhappiness and stepped up to bat. (I just realized English people wouldn't understand that cliche... ironic!)

Every Tuesday night, we go for drinks after our meeting at an on-campus bar. It only took about two of these events for the English kids to realize how easily I get drunk, and now they buy me pints just to see me get tipsy. I usually try to deny them this opportunity--"No, I really shouldn't have anymore"--but I've always been a people-pleaser, even when I was 4 and Whitney wanted to play tag and I said OK even though I hated the game. Eventually, I always give in.

I don't get falling-down drunk or anything, just enough to get a little easier to talk to. I also get so much more loving when I am drunk, which makes them laugh. I start to radiate love to everyone in the room--a strange verb, but the proper one. Sometimes I feel sheepish about this later, but I really do feel like when I'm drunk I'm almost more myself than when I'm sober. I always feel so much gratitude towards my friends that I hesitate to show when I don't have alcohol in me. So really, I am being more honest after a few ciders.

I also tend to get more loud when I am drunk. This happened the other day when one of the boys, Jamie, started talking about America and said, "Texas and California aren't that different, are they?" My voice rose a few octaves and decibels as I screeched, "Whattt??" I wasn't exactly offended--more just shocked that anyone, anywhere in the world would believe such a thing. The wonderful editor-in-chief Heidi felt bad for me and made him buy me a Guinness (even though I kept insisting I wasn't offended). I then asked him if he had ever been to America. One guess what his answer was!

The weird thing about English people is that they don't realize how diverse America is. England being about the size of Mississippi, I don't think they really have a concept how huge our country is and how much people in different states can differ. California people are totally different from those in Washington, Massachusetts, Florida and Louisiana. They also don't realize how frustrating it is when the majority of your country disagrees with you. Even the most conservative party in England is still pro-National Health Care, pro-choice, pro-gun control and environmentally conscious. Whenever they talk to me about the Iraq war, I just kind of throw up my hands and say, "Don't talk to me about it--I didn't vote for the scum bag."

There are some things that tickle them about my Americaness, though. They love the way I pronounce words ("handjob" turns into "hayyyyyyyyyndjob") and they're so eager to hear California slang. I taught them "hyphy" (slang for drunk) and they found it so weird. I told the kids in my house about freaking and they laughed about it for the rest of the day and kept saying, "I'm going to freak all over you!" I kept having to say, "No, it's freak WITH you." They kept asking me, "But doesn't that just make it so obvious when a boy likes a girl?" and I say, "... Yeah, that's kind of the point."

English kids also have the weirdest sense of humor. They tend to tease each other mercilessly and laugh about it. My mom is the queen of sarcasm and sort of passed it onto me, so I'm no stranger to it. The thing with us, though, is that we say sarcastic comments in a dry voice, roll our eyes, etc. English kids say it totally deadpan and it makes you reel back for a second before they laugh and assure you, "I'm just kidding." I'm still getting used to it.

Two of the girls from Nouse read my blog (yikes) and they said they really enjoyed it and that they hoped I would write an article about the difference between American people and British people. Considering that's all I've been writing about for the past two months, I took their offer and wrote something one night. The next day, the editors told me how much they loved it and how they were going to put it in a spread.

This (gulp) meant I would have to have pictures taken of me. They told me to "bring something American, like a flag" to the photoshoot. I laughed and laughed, saying, "Oh, right, I carry an American flag EVERYWHERE I go!" Finally, one of the British boys said he had an I HEART NY t-shirt I could wear.

The picture was supposed to be of me standing in the shirt with English people walking around me, blurred by the long shutter speed. This meant we had to go one of the main dining halls to get people to walk around me. I already hate having my picture taken (I never, never look good) and this was one of the most awkward experiences of my life. Everyone was staring at me, and I was certain they were wondering, "Why are they taking pictures of her? She's not that pretty." People kept stopping before the camera would go off, waiting to walk, and the photographer and I would have to encourage them to walk around me. The ordeal was finally over after about a half-hour, and the picture didn't turn out too bad (even though you can see my belly paunch a bit).

When the article came out, the response was overwhelming. Everyone was coming up to me and telling me how much they liked it, which totally floored me considering English kids wouldn't go out of their way to talk to someone if they had a gun to their head. One of the boys on staff who had moved to England when he was 13 told me "it's the article I wish I could have written." My Oxy friend said her English friends encouraged her to read the article. One girl I didn't even know messaged me about it on facebook!

The features editor asked me to write another article next issue and I heartily agreed. I was so thrilled, yet in the back of my mind, there is a little voice with what I call the Harper Lee syndrome: what if my next story isn't as good? That would suck. But then again, Harper Lee kind of was a fraidy cat, and it doesn't really matter if the next one isn't as good. I have enough compliments now to live off for at least a decade.

I also love being in the office with the newspaper kids. It's the tiniest office I have ever seen, and for one entire weekend about 20 of us are all crammed in there (with only about five seats, mind you). On Sunday nights, most of them don't even sleep until 4 p.m. Monday afternoon (and you thought Octagon paste-ups were bad, Ma). I usually stay until about 6 a.m., doing copy editing some of the time but mostly just soaking up the atmosphere. They're all incredibley sweet to me and every so often will tap me on the shoulder just to say hi or talk for a few minutes. The other night I was getting kind of homesick for the Oxy Weekly and kind of retreating into myself when one of the boys, Nicky, came over to me and smiled and said, "Hi, Kelly, how are you doing??" and conversed with me for ten minutes. They treat me like I've known them for years rather than 60 days and one of the boys (while walking to town) hugged me and said, "Awww, you'll go back to California and forget all about us!"

This shocked me because I was thinking the exact opposite--I'll go back to California and they'll forget all about ME. I was incredibley touched that he said that and assured him that they would just all have to come to Oxy to visit me and I could take them to the beach. I'd love to host them just to see the reaction they would get from girls, to be totally honest with you.

It's almost a cruel joke that I am friends with them because they are all younger than me, whereas most of my Oxy friends are older than me. This means that next year, the majority of my Oxy friends will be gone and I will sulk and miss my York friends. The only solution to this would be for every one of them to apply to Oxy and have a mass exodus to LA... think I can convince them??