After all the weirdly difficult and tricky things that have happened lately, I was thinking of titling this blog, “The Trials and Tribulations of Jillian M. Nelson,” but that was too long, so I decided on “The T.A.T. of J.M.N.” because I wanted to look classy. Nothing classier than initial TATs. *1*
Last time we talked screen to screen, I told tales of the tearful trail that lead me to me current location, Denmark (Street. I hope that there were two seconds where you read that and thought, “Wait, I thought she was in England?” And hopefully you asked in the high-pitched voice of Jim Gaffigan). I don’t think I even mentioned how my university somehow forgot to enroll me in any classes besides the core module. Still, I had a place to live, which meant I could finally breathe easy.
So for all of 8 days, my woes went away. And that, my friends, is how long it took for the unspeakable to happen.
Which I will now type, because it is unspeakable.
Someone.
POOPED.
On. The. FLOOR.
(The horror! The horror!)
Do you know what that’s like? To walk into a bathroom and see this…this ABOMINATION (of-bum-ination) waiting for you? And then it sinks in that 1.) Finder’s Cleaners and 2.) You’re down for “Spare Loo” duty on the rota that week, so you’re basically screwed as designated pooper-scooper? Tell me, has that happened to you? Fingers were pointed; tears were shed (mostly because I was laughing so hard). But then, have you had insult added to injury after you do a superstar clean-up job, because someone decided to repay you by drinking all your beer?* To this very day, the culprit is still on the loose (I mean, come on–who is going to say, “Okay guys, ya caught me; it was I who pooped and ran, then drank all your beer”), but one thing is certain– I’ll never look at my flatmates the same.
The crazy thing is, I’d like to say this was the first time this has happened to me**, but there was one day when I was in high school when my mom dragged all the kids still living in the house to the bathroom, where she pointed to the ground and cried, “WHO DID THIS?” The same person that I believe responsible for this particular floor-foul also drank my chocolate stout, so talk about connections! I mean, sure; the events were about 10 years apart, but still. Circle of life.***
Anyway, enough potty talk. Sometimes nice things happen–I had my first visitor to Bristol! Okay; it was JZ, so maybe it’s more like, “Sometimes not so bad things happen.” (JK, JZ. Who I know never reads my blog, as he just found out what blogs were last week). But as a result, we did sight-see-y things, which means you get these pictures! Hurrah!
Oo!
Ah!
Ah!
わ〜！
Isn’t Bristol cute?
Now, if you are wondering what I actually am doing in Bristol besides cleaning up bathrooms and having my beer stolen, I’m getting my MA! And if from there you are wondering what a typical school day looks like for me, let me give you a little sample, straight from today’s events:
-Get to class. Open bottle of sparkling water, which explodes. Wouldn’t be so bad if the EXACT SAME THING hadn’t happened the week before. Inward panic that my new nickname will be “American Girl Who Can’t Figure Water Out.” Though if anyone calls me that, I will simply call them, “Person Who Can’t Make Short and Efficient Nicknames.”****
-Stomach growls loudly, due to decision to eat only vegetables*.* for lunch.
-Get cold, so try to put on jacket, but can’t figure out sleeve. Finally get sleeve to cooperate; try to put in on in a hurry so my nickname doesn’t become “American Girl Who Can’t Figure Water or Jackets Out,” but jacket is vintage*!* and delicate, and inside lining rips. Loudly. Don’t even try to imagine what new nickname could be.
-Go home and eat more vegetables. *&*
*1* I also considered “Operation Title: Trials and Tribulations”, with the abbreviation being “O TIT: TAT,” but there is a level to how ridiculous I will go.
*This happened about 4 days later, so I gueeeeess it may not have been connected. But still! 3 beers! Out of 4!
**Actually, I’d prefer to say this has never happened to me, but what’s done is done.
***While poo on the floor followed by someone drinking all your beer may not be what the “Lion King” song is about, the truth is we can never really know.
****If you’re really quick, you’ve already realized that those are both accurate nicknames for J.M.N. by own logic.
*.* And cheese.
*!* Armani…sigh.
*&* AKA Cheese.
Sorry for all the asterisks, but as it has been so cloudy, I haven’t seen many stars lately; therefore I wanted to make up for it. Now stop reading my blog and go do something productive with your life!
whereisjillian 