Day 19,

I have been such a lazyblogger already! It has been a week since my last post, and I already have no recollection of what I did. This is why I started a blog in the first place!! Must improve short-term memory..

If anything, this week was the first week I started to long for things back home. People mostly, some places, and many bagels. I'm getting to that point where I just want a really good friend around all the time so that I can rest my head on their shoulder or solicit an occasional back scratch or just be with someBODY. I know this sounds weird. I suppose I just miss roaming in packs. As a lolcat would put it, I iz not a lone wolf. Maybe I just need a good bagel.

But enough with the cute, fuzzy speak. I will tell you things I remember about my week. I went to a pub with some of the other kids from my school, which was an enlightening experience. It seems like a bit of a boys club here. By that I mean that when we were all (fourish girls, three boys) sitting about a table, the guys dominated (or tried to dominate) the conversation with loud, jokingly bullying banter. The girls talked back to some of it, but for the most part remained calm and collected receptacles of these taunts. I was totally baffled by this. I didn't know how these guys could be so quiet and polite one-on-one and so brutish when together. I like to to banter back up to a point, but only for so long. It's tiring. I'd rather just have interesting conversations. I don't want to harp on this because they are probably good people and they were no doubt a little snookered. And even though they were a bit abrasive, I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt and say this is the beginning of a noisy friendship.

Yesterday (Sunday), I walked down the main road near me

to the National Galleries and OH LORDY it was wonderful. I saw so many works I had learned about in class and had no idea they were all right here! I will leave you with one of my favorites:

Oh just kidding this was my favorite:

no I think this was:

Ok, I cannot choose. Don't ask me to play favorites because I won't.

And then I saw Up in the Air. I ..liked it. Would like to talk about it.

Oh, also, I will be taking a class or two after all. I may take a class on the 80s and I may take an anatomy class. It's a toss up between watching Wings of Desire and drawing dead people. Tough decision.

One thing I can't get used to yet is how people say "cheers" at the end of interactions or to replace "thank you." If someone says it, I just hear things beginning to fall out of my mouth that sound ridiculous. For example, "you too!" is not an acceptable response, neither is "no prob!" "thank you!" or saying it back in a British accent. I think the best reply, for now, is a big ol' thumbs up. No that would be horrible. I will just smile mutely.

Ok off to make dinner now! Hopefully it won't involve a vat of Nutella, but no promises.

Spoons

I realized that in my last post I didn't really say what I'm doing here. I just mentioned that I got lost a lot. If you were wondering, I have been getting lost much less this week.

So what I am doing is painting. I am essentially in art school for this whole term. There are no classes. There are some teachers that wander about and help you if you need them. But it's mostly self-directed. You are just supposed to come in every day and paint. So that's what I have been kind of doing. I say kind of because I punctuate my studio time with museum visits and frolics with Sophie and Tim around town. I am giving myself some leeway this week with my hours due to the recent (understandable) onset of wanderlust.

The part of London that I'm in is pretty corporate feeling, there are lots of high buildings and no dogs or babies on the street, so not ideal. But the college campus itself is a beauty. It's a maze of passageways (worse than the tunnels at Bnard by far) that they have somehow managed to disguise as Greek temples.

They really like sandwiches here. And they're all packaged so ingeniously. Will post photos/diagrams soon.

To give you an idea of a day in the life, here is what I did yesterday: woke up, walked to the art building, had a non-brutal but extensive critique of four students' work with the whole painting department (which is maybe 30-60 kids --sorry i'm really bad at gauging numbers of people), went to lunch, went to Tate Britain to see the Turner show, came back to campus, painted a bit, went home. That was my day from 10 to 7ish. Today, however, I did something new and exciting: I made a spoon. Out of steel. It was incredible. I got to use an anvil. (!?!?!!!) Oh man. So that's all I did today except apply for some summer internships. All in all a pretty productive day I'd say. I can't tell if I'm kidding or not. I don't think I am.

The problem with postcards, on an unrelated note, is that I don't want to give them away once I get them. I pick out the ones I like and then I just want to hoard. all mine all mine. Speaking of postcards, if anyone wants me to write to them I would love to just send me your address. I realized I was very selfish in my last post and didn't even offer to send letters of my own. I just bought a bunch of stamps. They have the queen's head on them. How can you resist?

Bnard and Cu are starting right about now and I miss the pastry shop and the bustle of everyone coming back to campus and running around like chickens with heads chopped off. I have yet to find a p shop equivalent here, though I have looked.

Tomorrow I may make another spoon. I think I will.

To London!

Ok, so,

I know that at many points in my life I have sworn up and down I'd never EVER keep a blog. To those who had to listen to me kvetch: I am deeply sorry and you are free to rub it in my face as much as you like. Junior year study abroad has made a hypocrite of me. Alas. I decided to begin this more as a sort of record for myself and not just a mass-email-because-I'm-too-lazy-to-keep-in-touch-with-all-off-you sorta thang. I arrived the Friday before last, January 8th, and because I have been a lazy blogger already, I am going to recap a bit.

First of all, Kuwait Airways was amazing. It was the best long flight I have ever been on. What made it so great, you ask? It could have been the turquoise and gold upholstery. It could have been the curmudgeonly/lovable, old British couple I sat next to who ordered the dinners "without the main meal thing" (so just the little snacks). It could have been the steward with the giddy smile of a small child who said he had a "surprise" for me when I wedged myself out of the bathroom, and then gave me an icebreakers mint. Maybe it was the father and son across the aisle from me who pretended not to notice as the mother curled up under their feet for three hour nap. Maybe I was just so relieved I actually got on the plane after all the visa troubles I had (story for another time. In short, and according to my mother, it was all my fault.) Whatever it was, Kuwait Airways and I will meet again, mark my word.

For weeks (months) before leaving, I had been a hot basket-case of mess, having second thoughts about wanting to go, and generally having anxiety about beginning my semester in a new place. I felt like I had been schlepping from college to college enough already and I didn't even know why I applied to go abroad in the first place. I mean, apart from all the grand, romantic reasons everybody goes abroad, why had I wanted to go? A month before departure, my feelings could have been summed up as: do. not. want.

But once faced with the psychedelic seat backs of the transatlantic flight, I was surprisingly... fine.

After landing, getting my two 50 lb bags, and taking the train to Paddington Station, a friend of the fam met me there and drove me to my dorm. If she hadn't been there I think my arms would have fallen off and I would have bled to death right there in the station. Am I being dramatic? I guess I am. I probably would have just lived in the station the whole semester. Anyway, I arrived to my dorm (the address of which I will gladly give to anyone who wants to write me a letter. I love mail. Who doesn't.), and moved into my small, single room.

Over the course of the first week I got lost many times, met my four very lovely suite-mates, went to the British Museum, started school, bought very little and paid for a lot, got lost some more, talked to many friends back home, cried a little, explored, managed to eat, got a phone, took the tube, minded the gap, slept horribly, avoided starting this blog, saw a few friends who are here with me, and thought of New York often.

Will write more tomorrow. I miss many people back home. There were so many beginnings that got nipped in the bud before I left. I know it isn't possible to just put them on pause until I get back, but in my head I still wish it were, even as it comforts me to have time passing and beginnings stirring elsewhere.

As a side note, I would love to hear any anecdotes that you have to share. About traveling? About frolicking? About licking?

Cherio!