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.