Freshers Week (or Jet Laggin' and Pub Crawlin' ) (or Bra or Bow?)

We got to the town of St. Andrew's a week from today, and it only feels like a couple of days have gone by since then. To be fair, that's probably because I spent much of the last week asleep in my bed. Sunday night (my first night in the UK) I slept 15 hours. I legitimized this by telling myself I had a long trip here and needed the recovery. But after getting more than 12 hours of sleep a night for four consecutive nights, I began to worry I was sick or something. Rest assured I am completely healthy and only struggling with a severe bout of jet lag.

The nice thing about jet lag is you have an excuse to miss all the frivolous freshers week orientation events (you know, the paperwork sessions and the "optional but highly encouraged" book discussion group on the summer reading you "forgot" to read). It also means you miss overcooked sausage and runny eggs from the dining hall. Waking up at "half past 12" means you are full of energy when 8pm comes around and the real "orientation" begins.

Pub crawls for instance. I can honestly say I haven't missed a pub crawl I've been at St. A's (yes, this actually is Steve Dry writing that he has gone out every night since he's arrived...and I do expect credit for this).

Bobby Jones-ers plus Kate (two from the left) and Lauren (far right)

At the Sustainability Pub Crawl, I got tied together with this girl Eugenia. We never did find out the symbolism of the tying. Maybe we were supposed to eat dirt or something while we drank. idk. I think the intent was for two people to be tied together at one time, but within minutes I was in a line of 20 fellow freshers. Being tied on both arms made it pretty hard to drink anything. And then management got mad and broke up the party. BOOO. Never saw Eugenia again.

About a minute before the manager told us we were a fire hazard and forced us to untie ourselves. A sustainable slap in the face.

At the post graduate crawl (which Emily and I crashed since we are technically undergraduates), we met a girl named KT (yes, she's in fact cool enough to spell her name in letters) at the Victoria. She pounded back 4 consecutive shots of Sambuca at the bar (side note: the Victoria is a classy version of Maggie's that has 1 pound drinks on Tuesdays, Wednesday's and Thursdays, which fed nicely into KT's drinking habits). I sat in awe, drinking my cider (such a lightweight). I should probably just get a cardigan and some grandpa slippers and call it a year.

Two notable things about KT: 1) She had the enchanted castle silly band from the princess pack (we had to trade!). Saxophone for a tiara?

Lauren was sad because her saxophone wasn't a worthy trade for the enchanted castle from the princess pack.

and 2) Her shirt had a giant bow on it that bore a strange resemblance to a bra.

Bow or Bra?

And then we met another girl with the same bow/bra thing going on and we were perplexed.

"Emily, go take a picture with this girl and her bow/bra." "Okay!"

Oh yeah, and move over Steak and Shake, in St. Andrews the night isn't over until you've gotten toasties at the local Church. What are toasties? Grilled Cheese, but better. Maybe only because I've only eaten them after having a couple rounds or perhaps because you have the option of adding in ham, pesto or trying the world famous Mars Bar Toasty (don't worry, no cheese on that one). The only down side is you sort of feel bad about yourself for sitting in a church at 1am drunk. You never had to worry about the guy at Steak and Shake judging you for your indiscretions.

The world famous Mars Bar Toasty. Appetizing, right?

The church helped me find heaven (on earth) and it's the Mars Bar Toasty. Mmmmm.

So I'm gonna leave you with a very important question to ponder: Bow...or Bra?

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