Right, so in approximately nine hours and 53 minutes, I will be on a plane to JFK Airport and then later, on the group flight to England. Excitement, nervousness, every-other-emotion-in-the-book abounds. Presently, I am writing this belated predeparture blog in the living room of friends; one of which is playing Mario Kart Wii while the others are elsewhere. I am not sure if I am supposed to give a pseudo-existential word vomit about how this is going to be an adventure of a lifetime that will utterly transform me and whatnot. I mean, it will be but I don’t care to talk about that yet.
Anyway, to give all readers the specifics: I am studying at King’s College London (in London, obviously) and will be living in Hampstead. I was told it is very posh. How posh? Well, let me tell you that Wikipedia says lots of famous people live there. +1 to Michael. I am taking courses in a couple different departments (which supposedly isn’t meant to be done for UK higher education, but whatever): Religion: Social and Political Contexts (Religion department), Confucian Ethics (again, Religion), German Gender Politics (European Studies department), and Chinese II (Language — but this has a special name that I cannot recall).
So, what else am I supposed to say? Oh, here are my goals:
- Go visit Lauren Cooper’s grave (I ain’t bovvered)
- Take a trip with Matt Smith in his TARDIS
- Skip around during the Prince’s wedding (this one is legit and actually do-able)
- Meet up with the ASBO 5
- I can add more colourful goals related to current British TV, but I won’t bore you with those details.
But in all seriousness, I learned that there is a Freud Museum (WHICH INCLUDES FREUD FINGERPUPPETS) and that I can listen to Judith Butler talk about Kafka and Israel. Jealous much? I would be.
By the way, packing was dreadful. Remember folks, you aren’t supposed to bring your life with you — even if you -really- would like to do so. Don’t let anyone fool you — I found this to be the most stressful part of the system. Mainly because I had to make sure I had all the forms I am supposed to bring (there was a conflict in the Anderson household between myself and the parentals regarding one form, it was angst-worthy).
I’m sorry that this entry is lame. I’m still in the States. I know, we are both weeping.
(Title comes from the 1972 film Last Tango in Paris)