I am more awesome than you ever thought

These are exciting times, friends. I got a paper back from my professor and, not to toot my own horn (which is precisely what I'm doing) I got a very good grade and am quite satisfied with my sweet self.

It's a perfect way to round out the term and am looking forward, more than ever, to going home for a long and relaxing break. I'll be in the Mitten from December 16 until January 6, so if anyone wants to see me, start making plans now....

From the everything-in-a-cone-is-good camp.

And from the people at Nintendo.

Bless you.

In Which We Journey for Miles for Modern Art

I took a long walk to the Tate Modern yesterday and took a smattering of pictures along the way. It was supposed to be a crappy day, but the weather cleared up and the sun came out, which is not entirely common in London in December (you've all suspected - I'm here to confirm it). Nevertheless, I'm taking this time to post a few pictures of yesterday's adventures.


This is one of the Slides at the Tate Modern. It's a fun exhibit with about four slides that you can go down, from the very top of the building all the way to the bottom (you know - like, a slide).

Another one of the slides.

Near Blackfriar's Bridge.

A glorious day, a view of the Eye and Parliament.

In Which We Learn Something Kind Of Interesting About Some Important Literary Figures

Week from Hell is finally over (I suppose it has been for a few days now), and I can breathe again. Briefly - I'll give my cancelled presentation next Monday (December 4), my economics assignment got done and turned in, as did my public management essay (a day early, even). As for my other essay (for Theories and Actors of the Policy Process - TAPP), which was due by Friday at 5:00, I had it in by 2:00. OR SO I THOUGHT! Instead, at six that night I got an email explaining that my emailed essay did not go through and that I would have to try again. Bummer. But by this Monday, when I asked my professor if he'd gotten my emailed essay, he hadn't even checked his email yet and I'm just resting on the assumption that he got it. Oh, and let's not forget a presentation for public management this Thursday. But who's counting?

Now, for the first time in a long, long time I decided to have fun over the weekend. So on Friday we went out for drinks, and on Saturday I went to the Natural History Museum and saw a movie with friends. It was an actual weekend. Unbelievable!

The movie: Pan's Labyrinth.
The trailer makes it look sort of bad, but it really is a very beautiful and very brutal film. the film is about a girl who moves to rural Spain, at the end of the Civil War. Her new step-father is a fascist general who is in the country-side rooting out communists still living in the mountains. He is a brutal general and has a habit of killing almost indiscriminately. He has no concern for the girl and is indifferent to his wife's pregnancy other than that it result in a son for him. The little girl, on the other hand, is obsessed with her fairy tales and wanders into the woods one day to encounter a faun who tells her that she is the princess of an underworld kingdom. In order to return to her kingdom, she must complete three tasks. The tasks, in and of themselves, are horrifying, far more so than in, say, any Harry Potter movie, to date.

On a final note, the movie made me realize that I knew nothing whatsoever about the Spanish Civil War, so I looked it up on Wikipedia. It's complicated, to say the least. But kind of fascinating. Especially interesting was the list of famous people who supported either side. Particularly Ezra Pound, Gertrude Stein, and Evelyn Waugh supporting the fascists. Who knew?

The on-going fight between Good and Evil manifests itself ever more

This is one of those weeks where all I need to do is get through it and I'll consider myself successful. Presentations, two papers, an economics assignment - it's enough to make your head explode!

I was up all night last night putting together my presentation on policy networks and the advocacy coalition framework, which was due today. At about 11:00 this morning (class at 2:00) my shaking hands were putting on the last touches of my very first power point presentation. I thought I'd take a quick glance at my email.

And what should be awaiting me but an email.

Obviously, you think to your rational self.

This was no ordinary email, but an email from the pixie-adorable Helen Holt, administrative assistant to the policy rock stars at the SPP, saying that "unfortunately" today's seminar for Theories and Actors of the Policy Process had to be cancelled.

I read it again. Rubbed my work-weary eyes. Read it a third time. Chuckled. I had this deep and abiding fear that my tiresome eyes were going delusional on me. But I've (since) checked a few times. It is there. And it is for real.

What can any of this mean?

We here at my professionally staffed weblogging outfit are struck dumb by this. We cannot find any good reason for this to be happening and will either blow a collective fuse attempting to understand it, or will simply banish it from our brains and refuse to recognize any course of events that might trigger memories of this.

Speaking of brains and refuse... My face hurts from trying to read such a high volume of technically boring texts. I have to present on policy networks next Monday and, I must say, the reading is not as fascinating as I had hoped. My light at the end of the tunnel is an article I'm trying to get my hands on - Political Influence in the 1990s: from iron triangles to policy networks. What excitement! I say. and it requires a special trip to the British Library - always an exciting endeavor.

By the way, I saw Yo La Tengo over the weekend and it rocked my socks off my ass. It was such a sweet show! I would recommed seeing them live. Right now, actually. Or, if you prefer, something to bring back memories?

My brain is fried and this is only the beginning

The Borat movie was terribly hard to watch. In retrospect, it's funny. But I have so much difficulty with that kind of humor, where unsuspecting people are made into fools. According to an article in one of the free daily tabloids (sterling reputation) handed out in London, most of the scenes in Borat featured actors (in other words, they weren't all unsuspecting people).

It's reading week, and if you're one of the lucky UCL students whose department takes part in such a thing, then you have the entire week free of classes. What does that mean? You are 1) assigned shit tons of reading for each class; 2) you have the entire week to play catch up for all the reading you've missed; or 3) you have so many impending assignments due that you hardly leave your room (let alone the building), forcing yourself to read and write, feel generally arthritic as a result of sitting in the crappy plastic poor excuse for a desk chair, and keep yourself awake through the night sick with worry that you'll never get the work done and will flunk out of grad school and owe thousands of dollars in loans for which you have nothing to show. Guess which one applies to me. Oh, then there are the lucky few who get to travel during reading week. My friend Neel left for Krakow today. I hear it's lovely there.

Oh, so the election, nuts, right? I may be thousands of miles away, but that certainly seemed to run smoothly. I'm sad I missed it, actually. Civic geeks like me get all excited on big election days.

Did you know, though, that Australia (among other countries, I know) have mandatory voting? I think it might be a good idea, but I was trying to explain why something like that would never pass in the US, and could not seem to get my point across.

Right now I'm listening to Arab dance music with a pretty fresh little beat. But if you want something real good to listen to, I'll just add another little plug for Hudson & Gaines, the finest in radio broadcasting the US has to offer.

In Which Good News and Bad News Is Shared

I'm not going to be famous. Balls.

But I am heading off to see Borat in a bit, so a full review will come later.

Kelli went home to Ohio last week and only just got back today. She brought me candy corn, those little pumpkins, and double-stuffed Oreos. She also got me the Finding Nemo soundtrack and she brought some Halloween candy. I've just finished eating a tootsie pop. I love those things. We used to buy bags of them when we went up north for vacation, and we'd, well, eat them. Point is, they remind me of fun summer vacations up at the Smith's cottage on Lake Michigan.

Something in my room smells weird. I hope it's not me.

Right now I'm listening to the mixed cd that Tony made me before we started dating. This evening is all about good memories. That's not to say that the time before Tony and I started dating constitutes good memories, but those few weeks leading up to the start of our relationship were, well, fun, full of anticipation. I know you know what I'm talking about. Don't try to twist my words. You're always trying to get me into trouble.

Happy Election Day!

I'm going to be quite famous, you see?

Last night I was at a debate about the Muslim veil issue. There was a white British convert there, a woman named Yvonne, who, after the debate, asked me to be on her television show on the Islam Channel. Her show is a current affairs type of thing, and if there are any affairs I can get behind, they are the ones that are happening currently.

Sound The Alarm (X4)

Times are strange, friends. I don't know if it's the impending late-October time change, the fact that the Halloween season is nigh, or if it has something to do with academic madness and general mind numbness. This week was marked by not one, not two, not even three, but four fire alarms.

The first came on Tuesday night, nearly midnight. I was half asleep when Mom called, as I had called her a bit earlier. We were only talking for about two minutes when the alarm sounded and I explained that I had to leave the building. Then I ran around my room trying to find my glasses, keys, a sweatshirt, pants without holes in them, and shoes. I was approximately the second-to-last person out of the building. Two fire trucks eventually showed up (to the raucous cheers a few hundred half drunk college students) and the fire fighters took a look through our hall, coming up with nothing, apparently.

Not twenty-four hours later (around 9:00pm Wednesday night) the alarm went off again. This time, the mood was more subdued and because it was earlier in the night, there were fewer students present. The two fire trucks showed up again, and it was ascertained that the cause was burning toast from a room in the D corridor. Toasters in rooms? Expressly forbidden. She apparently risks incurring a hefty fine.

Earlier that day, though, the fire alarm had gone off in a building on campus, which could be heard from the science library where I was situated, reading an article on AIDS and international security. The students filed out of the building while the fire wardens yelled over and over for them to move further from the building.

Finally, today, as I was again studying in the science library, the alarm there went off. I looked up from my book on European constitutional courts, looked around me and met eyes with a girl across the aisle. We gave each other a "really? we have to leave? are you leaving? what happens if we just don't leave?" look. We left. I think we get fined if we don't.

In non-fire alarm related news, I had a successful meeting with my professor today who so loved my idea for an essay that he literally jumped up out of his seat. But that was just to grab a book I had mentioned needing for the essay. I also ran a dissertation idea past him and he really liked that, too. So I may have a few good ideas to work with.

Music: Pavement and, right now, the 5th Dimension. I've been listening to podcasts of NPR's Wait Wait - Don't Tell Me which makes me laugh out loud (which is always a great thing to do while you're walking down the street by yourself). Speaking of podcasts, my brother and his friend Hudson are embarking on a podcast adventure - Hudson and Gaines - a satirical radio talk show. Hudson is the local conservative pundit, while Brother (Gaines, in this context) plays the lefty nut. It's entirely quality listening enjoyment.

Update

Here's an update on the case with the teacher's aid who was suspended for coming to work in niqab. What's the deal with the cartoon half way down on the right?

Hayley Speaks! A Hot Bed Issue!

Earlier I had a post nearly complete when my internet connection got bungled (not for the first time in recent days) and shut down on me. But I'll try to remember all of my very excellent points. The topic I was contemplating was the Muslim veil issue, which is a real hot topic in the UK as of late.

The debate has centered on what place the veil has in a modern, European society. While not many people have come right out and said the veil should be banned, many people (Jack Straw, Tony Blair, Salman Rushdie all reccently) have critiqued it, arguing, specifically, that it clearly segregates Muslims from non-Muslims. This is always meant in a negative light.

I, however, don't believe we need to make such a case out of the veil. First, banning it certainly won't solve anything. Afterall, many things are illegal and it doesn't stop their proliferation. Second, this is a sensitive time for Europe's largest minority. We do not need fresh efforts at alienating an already alienated community. Finally, feminists will argue that the veil is a symbol of subjugation; and while there is some merit to this argument, I would argue that wearing a veil hasn't stopped Muslim women from pursuing university degrees and professional careers.

Banning the wearing of the veil will only make criminals out of otherwise law-abiding and productive members of society. The case of a teacher's aid now facing job loss is a case in point. Firmly believing that her veil had never been a classroom nuisance, Azmi continued wearing her veil, including covering her entire face (save for the eyes). She was suspended and her case handed over to an employment tribunal.

With Azmi dealing with suspension over her choice to remain veiled, there is the looming possibility of further alienating an already marginalized group. Muslims need little provocation these days to point toward instances of Islamophobia. Criticizing their lack of integration - taking issue with the fact that they stick out, are clearly identifiable - does not stand to improve relations.

Finally, a brief note on feminism. While I don't by any means conider the veil to be ideal women's attire, I will clearly defend a woman's right to choose it (nor do I even have any idea what ideal women's attire is). That it may be forced upon some women, there is little doubt. However, there are instances in which women use it as a bargaining tool - if they promise to remain veiled, they may pursue their university degrees and their careers. Some women choose it because it physically identifies them as Muslims - to both Muslims and non-Muslims alike. The choice to wear it ought to be protected. After all, who gets to determine what defines a liberated woman? (But that opens up a new can of worms)

This has been a hot issue in recent weeks, and has probably cropped up every now and then over the past few years. France and Germany both have laws regarding head-scarf banning, and it is already banned in certain instances in the UK. This is also a topic I've been contemplating for quite some time and my opinion has remained largely unchanged. As for the future of race relations in the UK and whether the task of integration has failed, I can't speak with any authority. But these are also perpetual-issues - not just for the UK, but for all western democracies, really.

Music today has ranged widely from Arcade Fire, Belle & Sebastian, and Smog. Interesting day.

In Which, Due To A Severely Boring Weekend, I Expound On Gun Control (Or The Lack There-Of) In The US, My Home

This weekend, I swear, I only left this building twice. Once to buy tea at Harvey Nichols for Bro's friends Ben and Hudson, and once to walk to the Watershed to order pizza (which I had been craving for weeks now). I ate a lot of pizza. A lot.

Otherwise, I spent a lot of time in my room pretending to study. But there is no reasonable explanation as to why it took me two whole days to read approximately sixty pages. Certainly they were dry, all about new-right political thought - public-choice theory and the Austrian school. Today, I started the chapter on rational-choice theory. But, embarassingly, I have no clue what these things mean. My intellect has yet to really be turned on.

Otherwise, I've spent the past several days being rather disgusted at the state of gun control in the US. With three school-shootings in the space of a week, I think the US has to do some serious thinking about their stance on guns. They won't, really, but I think they should. The juxtaposition of talking about gun-control after having read so much about new-right political theory is slightly amusing, I know. But I am not a member of the right, old or new, and I do believe that certain rights have to be given up for the betterment of society. No man in America really needs 600 rounds of ammunition, or the guns to use them, especially when his use for them is to shoot six-year-old girls (their age is really almost a moot point, actually - they were people put at his mercy). I realize that the issue is not so straight forward as I would see it. I just happen to have certain beliefs regarding social responsibility, that's all. Consequently, you don't see the number of gun deaths in countries where gun ownership is heavily restricted. Say what you want about how it's the person who kills, not the gun. I'd say the gun helps.

Music has varied widely, but I must say that I'm always pleased to be reminded of how much I love Of Montreal. And, while we're at it, I feel I should mention Jonathan Richman, whose album "Her Mystery Not Of High Heels and Eye Shadow," I hadn't listened to in a long time and who will be performing here soon. I'm trying to decided if I can spend the money on that show.

In Which I Make An Attempt At Being A Good Sport

In an effort to appear as though I don't find this place insufferable, I've decided not to focus on the continuing bank account difficulties, or the great lengths I went to in order to buy notebooks, or the high incidence of mean bus drivers (nor the incidence of insolent 11-year-olds on buses who treat you rudely), or the oddly small refrigerator that's meant to hold food for nine or ten people (all cooking for themselves), or the fact that I may have broken my foot.

Instead...

Today I saw a free lunch-time concert at St. Martin-In-The-Fields. Three sopranos sang songs to piano accompaniment in the eighteenth-century church. Prior to the show, Kelli and I ate lunch at the Cafe in the Crypt. The food was good and I suppose it was cheap by London standards. And it worked out because the concert was free and we sort of rode the bus for free on our way there. I'd like to make the free lunch-time concert series a habit, though. Also, student-priced tickets for the evening shows there are not outrageous (six quid (a term I use simply because I cannot remember how to get the pound sign on my computer)).

To further confound the money sign issue: I bought a computer printer today for 20 quid, which will be shared with Joedi, Karis, and Kelli. I just need the usb plug to make it work.

Monday saw my first class: a seminar for Theories and Actors of the Policy Process (TAPP). My professor is an adorable Italian man who speaks very fast. Tomorrow I have lectures for my research methods class as well as TAPP. I'm not so much excited as I am just wanting to finally get this thing going. I feel as though I've been here for a long time and I've done nothing. The anticipation is stressing me out.

Music: various arias and songs by Verdi, Puccini, Strauss, and Bizet.

And for some slightly dark entertainment...

I Hate Neil Diamond, In Case You Didn't Know That About Me

I woke up this morning with Sweet Caroline stuck in my head.

Anyone who knows me, knows that this is cosmic cruelty of the same magnitude as crippling poverty and torturing kittens.

Finally, A Little Bookish

I started my course reading today. While I don't have any lectures until Wednesday, there's so much to do, I figured I'd start out earlier rather than later. Pretty dry stuff, on attempting to determine a public policy paradigm (we love alliteration as much as the next guy) and what's wrong with most of the current, mainstream policy analyses. But what was easily the best part of studying was the part in which one article author used as an example a Clinton policy to expand benefits for Vietnam vets who may or may not have a greater risk for prostate cancer due to exposure to Agent Orange. The funny part (I'm getting to it) was that the author continuously referred to prostate cancer as prostrate cancer. Repeatedly. I hucked a guffaw and then kept reading.

And that was my Friday night. (Save for a quick trip down to the Watershed for a half-pint of cider and some live, crappy music I could hear from my room anyway.)

Today's music selections centered on The Fifth Dimension's The Greatest Hits On Earth (not as lofty a claim as one might think after giving it a good listen) and Andre 3000's The Love Below. It was a very groovy day.

And, finally... academic advice from New Zealand.

The Effect of Green Space on the Spirit

The bank thing didn't happen today. I just never got around to it. Yesterday, when I'd gone to collect my documents (with the proper information) I was told they'd never received my request. A lady said "we don't have a Gaines." And another lady piped up, "I never got any Gaines." And the first lady said, "Who'd you give your name to?" And because the guy I'd given my name to was standing right next to me sorting mail into the mail slots, and because he'd been so nice, and because I didn't want to sound exactly accusatory, I sort of mumbled something and the lady said, "was it a man?" I said yes, and she replied by giving me an oh-see-we-don't-do-that- around-here-because-the-guys-will-just-lose-it sort of look. So I resubmitted my name and then just never got around to picking it up today. There's always tomorrow, I guess.

I didn't do much today other than take a long walk through Regent's Park, of which I only saw a fraction. Having a giant park so close is quite a luxury, and it's a really nice place to visit. I walked through the playing fields and headed toward the bird sanctuary, then eventually made my way to the rose gardens, which I believe are the Queen Mary's Gardens. Something. Click on the flickr tag on the right for some really nice pictures of roses, fountains, and the renegade, V-For-Vendetta-style swans.

But it has yet to turn cold here, though it's not been exactly warm. Mid 60's, generally. Some days it's cloudy and actually quite rainy. Others it's brilliantly beautiful. There's a small part of me that's hoping for snow, so Karis (from LA) and Matt (from Sydney) can get a good dose of that. But not in a cruel way. More of a learning / gaining experience way.

Music ranged from Spoon's Gimme Fiction to Rufus Wainwright's Poses.

It's raining. But look at the sun anyway.

A Bank By Any Other Name...

This is a quaint land where very little is actually straight forward. Even the locals get confused by, say, their course outlines, or how to apply for banks, or how to catch the buses. Which makes me feel less ridiculous.

Yesterday I had one hell of a time trying to figure out how my terms are organized. I figured out what a reading week was (a week you're given off, but are given tons of extra work anyway - great), and I'm starting to piece together an idea of how I can get my texts. However, I'm continuously plagued by doubts about my being able to handle the academic rigor. I can reassure myself that I was accepted here for a reason. On top of that, my next-door-floor-mate told me that you had to be a serious idiot to fail out of here. However, hearing that from someone who did her undergraduate course work at Cambridge negates a bit of that reassuring feeling.

And today, Karis and I attempted to open bank accounts at Nat West. Certain we had all the correct documents, we headed in, filled in the complicated applications, and waited quite a long time to be seen; whereupon we were told that our documents proving our residence were not addressed correctly - we needed documents addressed directly to Nat West, rather than "to whom it may concern." By the way, every other bank would have accepted our documents. The people at Nat West even suggested we try Barclay's (apparently they didn't want our business all that much). However, Nat West had the plan we wanted, without any frigging monthly fees or any other complicated messes. So I suppose tomorrow we're going back and trying again, hopefully with the right documents in hand.


Music: I've turned itunes on to party shuffle, and the current track, which appears untitled in my playlist, is a groovy sort of Price Is Right piece. I thought about changing it, but it's actually quite a lot of fun.

Look at my Elephant!

A Salmon Spread to Pick You Up

Today was relaxing. I made my way to the Sainsbury's down the street and bought a few necessaries: bread, soup, apples, raisins, and peanut butter. The peanut butter almost caused a melt-down on my part, though.

I realize peanut butter is not particularly popular outside of the US. However, I'd found it in London before and so was certain that a Sainsbury's as giant as the one down my street would have some. I walked down the spreads isle, didn't see it, and continued on, hoping it would appear somewhere else in the store. It didn't. I headed back to the spreads and still didn't see it. However, I did see multiple varieties of spreadable meats, such as salmon, shrimp and crab, chicken, beef. Spreadable. Beef in a pot, they call it. Would it be cultural insensitivity to express disgust at this British spread food? Would I offend? Does one take into account the offense experienced at the sight of spreadable meats?

No bother. I found the peanut butter on the bottom shelves under the Nutella. But rethink your respect for a people who spread their meats as one would a jam or jelly.

As for the bunny sign, that was posted on Gordon Street outside of my university. I don't know why it says bunny. But London's a really weird place.

Music I've been listening to: Tony made me several mixed cd's before I left and have listened to them mostly. However, Yo La Tengo recently released a new album and it's really fantastic. The sound is slightly more upbeat, a little fuller due to the addition of horns on many tracks. And the first track is the most listenable of any first tracks on a Yo La Tengo album. Don't be afraid. Give it a try.

In Which I Leave Home For Another Land And Face Great Emotional Upheaval

I left late Tuesday night and arrived in London for a year long masters program in public policy at the University College London. My cab ride from the airport was ungodly long and astoundingly expensive, but it was easier than taking the tube with two painfully large suitcases.

Having arrived at my university residence in Camden I was directed to my room (though I was given the wrong keys) and introduced to the dungeon-like quarters I will call home for the next year. The room is about three feet by four, or something similar - I've always been bad at estimating these things.

I've met several people, mostly on my floor, and (oddly) mostly Americans. Karis and Joedi live across the hall and Kelli lives in another wing. Crazy of all crazies - I discovered yesterday that an old Michigan State Hillel acquaintence of mine lives in my hall as well. Today was Rosh Hashana and I neglected to attend shul, thus giving the impression that I am the worst Jew in the world. Which is more or less accurate.

Thursday and Friday were spent orienting myself with the school. There were speeches and enrollment forms, and long lines, and lots of international students. Tiring, but fulfilling.

And today I headed out to Portobello Road, my old stomping grounds. Karis and Kelli came along and we all had veggie food from the Grain Shop and walked along the jam-packed street market looking at cheap goods and delicious fruit and veg.

As we're all getting ready to head out for a drink at a near-by pub, I'll leave you here with this fun bit (from The Areas Of My Expertise): 700 Hobo Names, illustrated.