On getting Bridget Jones Syndrome (with crazy amounts of GIFs from your--my--favorite comedians)

Hello, blogosphere! 'Tis I, the Mexican Georgie, coming to you live from the heart of Middle-of-nowhere, North England.

As I have miserably failed to have anything extraordinary or disastrous happen to me in the past week, I come to you in an act of desperation to gain your attention by attempting to complain about things that don't actually bother me much. The truth is that I am very happy in Durham, but we all know happiness doesn't sell--or at least that is what Mexican soap operas teach us. Therefore, I must go into the depths of my subconscious and find Ramona Consuelo De la Oca Fuentes.... the villain of my own telenovela. She, of course, is just a catalyst for complaining about random things.

First, I have Bridget Jones Syndrome.

This basically means I am constantly aware of my physical/intellectual deficiencies when compared to the stunning, brilliant English woman. But I make up for it with hilarious commentary, political incorrectness, outrageous situations, and just a whole lot of mental instability.

But on to Bridget Jones Syndrome.

1. British women have either deep, sexy voices or deep yet sweet and melodic voices. How? When I hear myself, it's like I hear any old hag from a fairy tale (seriously, have you heard me laugh? YIKES). But these girls can read the phone book and sound amazing doing it. They have these rich, sophisticated voices--they are interesting women, women who can conquer the world, and they have a British accent.

Yes, they are all like Mary and Sybil (and I'm Edith)

I am like a kid who hit puberty and his voice never quite changed... like it stayed in between. When I get excited I sound like a parrot and when I try to be interesting I sound too manly. Well, just my luck... I will never be a voice-actor, there goes my dream!!

2. They all have legs up to here, twice the length of my legs. This makes a huge difference when buying clothes. Tights, leggings, and those cute manly-looking dressy shoes are not for me---but for long-legged (or, on the rare occasion they are short, slim-legged) people. I cannot find clothes that fit me right in this country. I miss you, JCPenney brands :'(




3. They all know how to bake!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously, I just learned how to cook like... last week. I don't even know how to use an oven---and all the guys in my flat do. All the desserts I've managed to make have been oven-free, so I'm basically great at pretending. But cake? Oh, gosh, I had to give it up for Lent in order to gain more time to procrastinate and not learn how to bake. Or else, this would be the reaction when I throw a dinner party:

I'm feeling very Tina Feyish today. 

You guys don't get it--I'm feminine now, I've reformed. I throw dinner parties and wear mascara and own shoes that are not sneakers. I can't just reveal my true tomboy self... I'm a changed man--errrrr---woman.

4. Femininity. Like the real deal. Like graceful, quirky, and Zoey Deschanelesque. Damn, dudes. DAAAAAAAAAAYUUUUUUMMMM.  They don't even need the make-up... it just exudes from them. Meanwhile, I exude masculinity, like a stock character in an Arthur Conan Doyle adventure novel (note to self: stop threatening men with punching them in the face. It really is not leading to anything good). I mean, I trim my beard and remind myself to wear deodorant (most of the time), but I am still struggling with all the dress/skirt requirements. And when I, on a rare occasion, wear a dress, you know I'm wearing shorts underneath. No, I will not say if they are basketball shorts or not. Sorry.

Kristen Wiig as  Michael Jordan. Or could it be Michael Jordan as a bald Kristen Wigg?

5. Slim. Healthy. No need to think "hmm... I probably shouldn't eat that taco" (no tacos here, but you get the idea). Like, amazing metabolisms. You know what British food is? FAT AND CARBS! Seriously. Yet everyone seems to be okay. This is going to be my doom! I was told I would lose weight in Europe (and pick up a British accent--and a British guy). None of these have happened. What should I do?

6. Walking brains. Like, I don't know if it's just that the British college system is better (hint: it is) or if I just smoked too much crack during my undergrad--but I'm just never intellectually there. I feel like an average dumb American... and I'm not even American!!!!!!

I feel like Kelly Kapoor: I can talk about the Kimye (???) or the latest Jimmy Kimmel prank or Ellen Degeneres interview, but when we start talking philosophy, theology, literature... I'm done, dudes. And I am doing a master's in literature!!!!! I know I was a late bloomer and started to read when I was super old and stuff, but still. Oh, and this whole not-reading-Lewis/Tolkien/Rowling-thing is really not helping.

Dakota Fanning doesn't know what Harry Potter is, either.

At least Jane Austen is something I can always fall back on, right?

7. Beautiful, abundant hair that naturally falls on its lovely, feminine place. I mean... have you seen my hair? You know how rainy it is in England. I am basically Medusa. I have a bad 'fro. Worse than Gilly:

My hair is more like Mufasa's mane after being trampled by a stampede (too soon?). I mean, on a good day, I can only aspire to have hair like Phyllis and Karen when they got a perm:

8. Not loud, obnoxious, competitive, or politically incorrect. What am I even doing here, you ask? Ah well, I suppose God wanted to spice things up a bit. Or actually help me calm down (and it's not working). I got a little dreadlock of sorts a few weeks ago (I basically wrapped a precious lock of crazy hair with different color threads). If you know me at all, you know that's basically the equivalent of a nose piercing, getting a tattoo, or snorting cocaine.

I'm having a middle-life crises 25 years early. I'm going through manopause. I've gone wild (in a very decent, tame, me manner). Oh, dear.

So there you have it. I clearly am at a disadvantage here. Or am I? I mean, after all, Bridget does get Mark Darcy at the end, you know? And the thing about Mark Darcy is... well, he's Colin Firth.

And I think I'm okay with that. I mean, look at Amy Poelher... she's batshit crazy and she got to make out with Bono.

In no way am I attracted to Bono. Eww. Plus he's married and has kids. I was thinking more along the lines of... IDK...

TERM 2, A.K.A. MISSION IMPOSSIBLE, DONE.

HONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY I'M HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMEEEEEEEE


TERM'S OVER, PUNKS! THE MEXICAN GEORDIE IS BACK!

It's been so long, I actually forgot how to spell 'Geordie'. At least I could still remember how to spell 'Mexican'. But anyway, how the heck are you? I'm fine, thanks for asking.

After a few weeks that should have been stressful but in which I avoided stress by pretending work wasn't going to pile up tall enough to collapse on me while I slept and bury me under ruble, I am proud to say I finished my three papers yesterday and turned them in.

It feels great to be free! Five week vacation!!

Except.....

I have four papers due on the first week of next term.

Ah well, at least I get a weekend off, right? Sure... sure...

AND... *DRUMROLL* I AM GOING TO ITALY AT THE END OF APRIL!

Oh, what else is new?

Ohhhh yeah, we lost the semifinal against Stevenson. 2-1. ON THE LAST MINUTE OF THE GAME. Seriously. I almost die of sadness. There goes my closet shot at being an Olympian....................

hate this dude... but I was him for a few hours

Also, I got to celebrate the feast of St. Cuthbert in our parish, St. Cuthbert's Catholic Church, in Durham, where Cuthbert is actually buried. DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG. That's not something you hear of everyday, huh? Pretty cool stuff.

I went to see Swan Lake in Newcastle, performed by some Russian ballet (so you know it was good). But the theater was GHETTO. I mean... I'm talking about using two speakers instead of an orchestra to play the music for the ballet... and one of the speakers wasn't working properly.

But the dancers did an amazing job and the performance was beautiful. The leading ballerina was so freakishly elegant and feminine she put all women in the world to shame. DANG DUDE. And so Russian, too.

I started writing a daily Lent blog and let me tell you, that thing's work!! I am committed to it so I always have to make time to do it. It is challenging and sometimes annoying, but I feel it will really pay off! Go read it!

http://lentensoupforthesoul.blogspot.co.uk/

I would like to thank God, the Lord, for His help getting me through this term!!!! You rock, Big G!



On the other hand, friends have started to leave, to go back home. So things might be getting a little gloomy. But I will always cherish those beautiful memories and I will not forget!

Ah well, when I had imagined posting this, I thought it was going to be much longer and interesting. Sue me.

The most amazing couple of weeks in the history of the universe.

No mom, I didn't meet a guy.

I've just had the most fun in like... forever.


1. I MADE A MEXICAN DINNER FOR TWENTY PEOPLE AND THE FOOD WAS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

Yes, I am your master chef. Marriage boot camp is going well. I made Chiles Rellenos! And for dessert nothing short of my grandma's Leche Espesada (Dulce de Leche). And I'm sure I did her proud, cause the darn milk pudding was so yummy I lost my mind...

2. I legally changed my name to Tina Tina Orocco (and by legally I mean I changed my name on Facebook). So it turns out that, when you pick a confirmation saint, you kinda take on their name. If I would have known this, I would have never taken St. Faustina.... Listen, she's a personal favorite, but I already have a long first name. Worse... Faustina rhymes with Cristina............................. so it was a ticking bomb all along--and it finally exploded. So, in the words of Jean Valjean: "who am I? WHO AM I? I'M TINA TINA OROCCO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

3. You might be wondering what's up with the last name. OH YES. This is what I call "My American Moment: That time I was Super Dumb". Turns out, the letter "Z" here is pronounced ZET and not ZEE. I didn't know this, and I have been saying zee, confusing hundreds of thousands of British people. So this is why they have been misspelling my last name!!!! O-R-O-ZEE-C-O = OROCCO. I'm Italian, ya'll!

4. Singing, singing, singing. Everyday---everything from Disney songs to Les Mis to Jesus-loving songs. Singing alone. Singing in groups. ABSOLUTE INSANITY. My life has turned into a musical. And it's... so.... awesome.

5. I WENT TO THE LAKE DISTRICT.

Oh, oh my... there are no words. So beautiful. So quaint. So English. Here, have a look:

Awww.. with my Indians! 

Just one of the most breathtaking, awe-inspiring places I have ever been to in my whole life. If there's something you need to see in England, it's this place. I YOLOed this all the way through: I risked my life trying to trick geese into believing I had food for them so they would let me pet them, I rolled down a muddy hill, and I almost lose my feet to hypothermia for dipping them in the semi-arctic waters of the lake.

6. Homework? What is that? What do you mean I came to England to do a master's?

7. Having awesome friends, geeking out about Jane Austen, Disney movies, musicals, etc, etc etc. Truly, I am so, so lucky and grateful. The people I've come to know and to love here... they really make up for it all. God has given me a family here. God has fulfilled His promise to me, at last! And to be able to share my faith with these friends just makes me infinitely happy. so, I basically live at the chaplaincy now.

cyber group hug to you all!

I will never get tired of saying it. And I will never forget.


8. SPRING IS HERE!!! And I've fallen madly in love--with Durham. Flowers popping out everywhere, the gentle blue sky, the sun smiling beams of yellow on the timeless castle and cathedral. There's nowhere like Durham.