School Disco and Eggplant Parm

I've generally been dividing my time here between being a tourist extraordinaire (look, Big Ben!) and being an oh so studious uni student (not college student. College means something else entirely here, and that has lead to mad confusion). When not reading and underlining, I've been examining mummified cats at the British Museum with Team Beehler, hitting the markets with some people from QM, spending an inordinate amount of time walking to and from the supermarket, and stumbling upon the disturbing practice that is the British School Disco.

Here is the scene. It's Friday night, and me and some American QM students want to go out and experience trendy London clubs (aka not only ever go to East End pubs, delightful as it is to hear the round-bellied cockney men talking about their "missus'"). We think about going to Leicester Square, then take a peep at entrance fees and feel too cheap for actually trendy London clubs. So instead we go to the campus bar, which is having some kind of big theme night and a lot of people are going. Awesome, we think.

The theme is School Disco, which is apparently a thing here in the UK. At a School Disco (and before I go any further I should clarify that disco refers to perfectly modern and hip dancing that would properly scandalize John Travolta) one dresses in one's old high school uniform. For boys, this means white button up shirt, school crest tie, and perhaps a grey sweater if we're really feeling the theme. For girls, it means this. Think Halloween, only British and possibly even sluttier. It's some kind of trend to put up your hair like Baby Spice and draw on freckles too, thus really clinching the whole fetish orgy vibe I was already getting from the place. I felt either severely overdressed or underdressed, and couldn't quite decide which. Even the Woo Girls I'd gone out with were uncomfortable. Dude. Brits can slut.

Anyway, that's the update for now. Other moments of note include finally finding a nearby open air Arab market from which I purchased...wait for it...FRESH FRUITS AND VEGETABLES!! After two weeks of cereal and ramen I was able to avoid scurvy and make a delicious and fresh eggplant parm tonight. There was so much rejoicing. And I think my flatmates finally respect me as more than That American Who Lives off Nine Pence Ramen From Sainsbury's.

See? Told you I suck at brevity. Ending this now before I get too out of control.