Sun, Sun, Sun!

I've taken advantage of the dry weather lately to do a bit of exploring around town. I figure out the most pleasant route to the University, which takes me though the shopping district that is closed off to cars, over a bridge and around this gorgeous cathedral. Yesterday I walked down to the University (see left) and picked up my registration packet which includes a complicated form that resembles something you would fill out on FAFSA. I'm hoping they clarify things at orientation tomorrow. After poking around the school for a bit, I proceeded to make my daily trip to the local supermarket (Tesco). I've been going to Tesco every day to pick up a few groceries as I have to carry them about 3/4 of a mile back to my apartment. The first time I went, I was utterly confused as to how people obtained bags for their groceries. Luckily, I had my Chico bag (thanks to Uncle Larry) conveniently stowed in my backpack. Yesterday, the lady ahead of me in line requested a plastic bag from the cashier-- and I came to the conclusion that you had to pay for the bags. (A) I can't believe it took me that long to figure it out, and (B), what a novel idea. I believe I read something about this not longago... and seeing how reusable bags have become the new it-thing in the United States, I wonder what is stopping American supermarkets from charging for bags (or if some do, please enlighten me. My grocery-shopping experience is limited). It seems like the producers of plastic bags could easily modify their product if they are worried about losing business, and simply supply more durable, reusable bags.

Now, on to less fun subjects: I woke up to my smoke alarm going off at 5am this morning. I'm quite used to fire drills in the middle of the night, or the occasional popcorn-burning when someone puts it in the microwave for 45 minutes (it has been done). After stuffing some valuables in my bag, however, I realized there was a burning smell coming from my water heater. Now, I recount this all in a calm matter hours after the fact, but in reality, I have never felt that pang of fear so deep before. I called security (not before turning off the boiler, who came about 10 minutes after the fact... I wonder if there was a real fire if they would be more expedient. I sat outside in the courtyard to wait, and when they came up the stairs they looked exactly like Hugh Laurie and Mark Williams in 101 Dalmatians (the two crooks). They were each dressed in black and had flashlights (even though the courtyard was lit), one short and a bit stocky, the other tall and lean. Anyways, they turned out to be quite nice, and concluded that the water heater was not functioning correctly, said I would be alright until maintenance could look at it, and were on their way. So here I am, finally warm in my apartment, having to air out the hallway to get rid of the horrid smell. (In an ironic twist, my electric shower now works).

I must thank Liz and Ann again forleaving me the blackberry for a few days, which allowed me to contact security. I now have a mobile phone up and running (I had to go back to the store and get help in opening it up... if this trip has taught me anything, its to ask for help when needed, even if I feel ridiculous doing so).

One of my suite-mates just walked in the door. His name is Mark, studies civil engineering, and he seems genuinely nice (and tall). That makes a total of three nice Irish people I've met in the last two days (minus security). I hope this trend continues. Anyway, I don't feel quite so alone anymore, but am still missing you all.

Love from across the pond,
Caitlin