Turning a Big Fat No to a YES!

Kaitlyn Elizabeth Rose just does not accept NO for an answer. Here’s some background: Each class at Kent meets twice a week, once in a giant lecture hall, and once in a smaller seminar group room. Each module (That’s Kent-speak for class) has about four different groups that meet at different times during the week. One ANNOYING seminar on my timetable (again, Kent-speak for schedule) was listed for Thursday night, while all my other commitments fit comfortably into Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday slots. The ladies in the land of schedule changing wanted nothing to do with my American self. (Their loss.) They said absolutely nothing could be done, and that I’d have to deal with the Thursday time, as other students with more legitimate conflicts have priority. (Psshh, traveling is a priority of mine. It’s a totally legitimate conflict. To be fair and honest, though, I played the vague card and said I had “Other Commitments.”) Too bad those ladies don’t know me. Professors don’t scare me, even if they do have pompous British accents and shelf after shelf of books they wrote, edited, and forced students to purchase. I went straight to Professor A.V. Chadwick of the Physics department and switched that “timetable” right up. My four-day weekend is now official.

Now for the good part of the story! After hearing about my fabulous schedule, Kathleen and I decided to go on a celebratory bar crawl in Canterbury, organized for new students by old students. We did not realize one crucial factor, however. When we popped into the initial bar, the crowd was a little… off. All the girls were decked in black corsets, and the guys in very ripped jeans. Hair colors were neon, and combed into mohawks or greased into dreadlocks. We figured, hey, it’s just England. Oh how wrong we were! After a while, Kathleen and I were the only “normal” ones in the bar. People were talking about past acid trips as if they were as commonplace as afternoon pints. (It’s insane. In England, a Carlsberg lager is a totally acceptable lunch. I like my pints of Strongbow, of course, but I still crave some legitimate afternoon sustenance.) We found out we were on the Metal Rock Society’s bar crawl. Kathleen, my Burberry jacket (which, for the first time, looked out of style, and a coat this beautiful does not deserve that!) and I booked it out of there as fast as we could, laughing the whole walk back to Ellenden Court, where we then charmed our three American friends with our tale as they enjoyed their stirfry dinner. It was an unusual way to celebrate, but it did the trick.

On another note, our Ireland trip is planned, now that my schedule is known. It took until October, but all went according to plan. I think that deserves a big CHEERS!