some little slice of beauty

It was such a beautiful moment, walking by the Thames, that I felt compelled to stop my routine walk & record it. The sun, which at 5:30 had about finished its descent into the water, has divided the skyline into half-golden light and half-shadow. Eaves and columns, torrets, all those bits of architectural fancy half-gleaming and half-obscured in shadow. And the boats, whether resting blithely upon the water or gliding slowly by, brilliantly recasting the last bit of golden rays. Clouds layered and scattered as if in a creative frenzy - some smooth and calm and some ripped in chunks or pulled like heavenly fiber across the sky - at once softly glowing and bathed in shadow.
And the lucky passerby who thinks to raise his head - clicking a photo, then staring, then clicking again.

America in a Box!

O the timeless Care Package. A true Rite of Passage for the college student. Got my first one on my birthday, yesterday, and let me tell you there was some joy in Room 202 with each discovery. There's just something about getting a package in the mail, and finding bits of home in there. Twix. Bubble Yum. Burt's Bees Lip Balm. Slim Jims (I almost shed a tear over these). Hostess mini-cakes. All the things that made growing up in Southwest Virginia a *unique* and *special* experience.
And I can tell you, reading about the French Revolution and what it meant to the centralisation of the national military is thrilling, but so much more so while gnawing on perfectly spiced beef jerky.

medical phenomenon

Just now I looked down at my fingers, and noticed that they appeared to have a blue, grey-ish hue. Flipping my hands over, I noticed with growing alarm that my knuckles were, indeed, a peculiar deathly shade of blue. Immediately I thought of the symptoms of meningitis or sepp-whatever and couldn't remember if turning blue was on the list - "Why did I pitch that helpful calendar!! I could have meningitis and now I can't know!"

Then I washed my hands.

And remembered that my new-ish jeans have this special indigo dye that transfers if say, you shove your un-mittened hands in them.

Ridiculous.

health and accident stuff

For those of you who've asked, or haven't and don't have anything better to read, although I'm not fully recovered from my accident in August, I'm taking precautions and doing what I can until I can see a doc.
Honestly, dragging my bags around London set me back a bit from the progress I was making back home.

I know Jitsu doesn't sound like a great idea after having a car accident, but I'm sticking to the cardio part of it, avoiding exercises that put my neck/back/shoulders in compromising positions. From what I've heard, keeping active is important as long as it isn't painful - and so far, what I'm doing is at least keeping me from feeling stiff all the time.

Hopefully the 'progressive' healthcare system here in the UK will prescribe some awesome massage! One can hope.... :)

holy crap they have a lot of speakers come here

So today I sat in on a speech by Dr. Justin Lin , the Chief Economist and senior vice-pres of the World Bank.  I'm not going to say it was fascinating, but it was an honor to be in the audience. The future economists and economic advisors in the audience sure found it fascinating. They asked like a million questions. My favorite was when a student asked him: "what were you thinking when you swam from Taiwan?" and he said, "Keep floating."
It's true, according to Wiki:

"As an up-and-coming captain in the Republic of China Army (the army had already paid for his MBA) in Taiwan, he defected to Mainland Chinaon May 17, 1979, reportedly by swimming from the island of Kinmen, in Fujian Province (Chinese: 福建省) under the control of the Republic of China (Taiwan), to the nearby island of Xiamen in the Fujian Province (Chinese: 福建省) of the People's Republic of China (Mainland China)." (Wikipedia)

 FIRE DRILL! This blog was interrupted by a fire drill. Good times.

found a 'chippie'

A 'chippie' is a beautiful place. It's a personal thing, finding that *special* chippie to call your own. Mine of the moment is Fishcotheque - near the Waterloo Underground Station. From what I can gather, a chippie is just a place that serves good fish & chips. This one is cheap, close, and the fish is buttery and delightful.
A few sketches for you guys that indulge me:
The Thames at night, all lit up in its Lite-Brite glory

This is just a pub in the neighborhood. The bartender had a head in actuality.

SMACK! reality.

oh.
my.
gosh.

I have over 150 pages to read for my first week ALONE.
150 pages with terms like "premodern constitutionalism" and fun ponderings such as, "what was the casual mechanism of the dependent variable?"
GAAAA! What am I doing?! I want my bartending job back! No one ever asked me lame questions like that at 202!
No, no. Don't panic, Gilee. You'll be juuuuust fiiiiiine.

Time for a crunchie bar.

Really????

This poster came in my 'Welcome Box.'

Cuz what I want out of my calendar is a constant reminder of meningitis.

poli sci meets jitsu

I never thought it could happen. But I've managed to find a club that out-nerds even me: Jitsu on LSE campus. Martial arts meets political science. To give you an idea of just how nerdtastic this club is, when we went out for drinks after the first meeting, I got into a conversation with one of the guys about the World Trade Organization's effects on local business. Wow. I feel so...different here...so this is what being normal is like! Normal is relative! I never knew!
Anyway, last night was quiet for a Saturday. I found myself curled up in front of my window, with the rain beating down, sipping tea & reading The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Quite a world away from the frenzied weekend scene at 202 Market mere weeks ago.

This is life - lull and swell, curl and crash. You ride whatever wave you're on.

I like this one so far.

life by the River Thames

Life in a residence hall when you're a graduate student is...different. I'm surrounded by hoards of replicas of my past teen-20s self and it is exhausting to watch. Sometimes I wonder if I jumped the gun a bit by accepting this hall so quickly. I mean, I don't want to be homeless in London, but seriously...I passed a kid in the hall on the way to the lounge (where the microwave lives) and this was our interchange:
he said, "What, you're not going to Crush?"
Me: "Crush?"
Him: "Crush!"
Me: "What's that?"
Him: "{something British and undecipherable} in the Quad!"
Me: "Does it cost money?"
Him: "5 pounds."
Me: "I'm broke."
Him: "{something else, maybe Cheers? who knows.}"

Then there's the trashed lounge after a party. Gingerly removing bottles of liquors from the sink to wash my paltry load of dishes. And the smell of feet in unventilated hallways. Stepping over some pool of gross outside someone's door. Ah....college life.
But it's all worth it - all of it - for the walk to LSE.

I live in a borough south of the River Thames. I have to cross it on my way to school. It's pronounced "temz" by the Brits and I can't bring myself to say it out loud. Temz. Thames. Tames? Anyway, it's beautiful - brown, noisy, but beautiful. By day it is littered with boats and the bridges are bustling with double-decker buses, cabs, bikes and cars. By night it is Lite-Brite picture perfection. Small globe lights are strung between ornate light poles (torch poles? they call flashlights torches. why not?) and benches a-plenty for sitting and watching the world float by. I heart you, River Thames!

After crossing the Millennium Bridge today, I passed a 3-piece boy band playing for pocket pence just outside of the Tate Modern museum. Two acoustic guitars and a keyboard blower thingy that sounded a bit accordion-y. No love from me - I had like 5 pence and that seemed a crummy contribution.
No classes yet - so I had time to buy a small fridge for my grocery treasure-hunting, and do laundry. I saw this crazy thing in the store - ironing water. I gave it a try - it's quite a lovely experience. I was ironing things just to iron.