Two Months Later

I'm sorry about last week's silence. I've had a week off from classes, and amid the piles of reading and social distractions life has provided, I thought I would take a week off of this as well.

This week, I am going to do a little unadulterated reflection on nothing other than my past two months here in London. I try, as a general rule, to make posts with at least some universal or intellectual interest. There is, however, a time and a place for shameless autobiography, and I think hitting the two-month mark is as good as any other.

London in general:

I feel much more like a Londoner this time around, which I think is due in large part to a more complete immersion. I'm hanging out with British people, studying with British people, dating British people--barely an American to be seen this time around. I'm beginning to know my way around parts of this giant city that I'd never explored before. And more than that, I have developed a comfort with the idea of exploring those parts I haven't yet seen.

Friends:

Part of what makes my time here especially fulfilling, the largest part, I think, are the friends I've been making. Reading through any of my posts, you're sure to see a few names and pictures show up from the people who are already becoming very close friends. It's nice to have people as silly and neurotic as I am around.

Most recently, we had an election party to watch Mr Obama get the job, which I think is only typical for my particular circle of mates. After decorating the sitting room of Sam and Caro's house with hand-made American flag bunting, we made red-white-and-blue cupcakes, and sat up drinking and eating well into the morning.

Housing:

Rebecca--one of those new friends--and I had the idea of looking for a flat together. She has been living with her parents for a long time, and was more than ready to get out on her own in old London town. She brought along an old uni mate called Robin, and we went on the hunt. And what a hunt it was.

The two top winners for house of the year go to the following:

Number 2 goes to a "house" we were shown around on our second day of hunting. Tom, from Black Katz real estate showed us around what he described as "a converted lower-ground floor," which turned out to be a garage mid way through the process of becoming an apartment. Not only did it still have a folding garage door visible from the outside (they had put walls up on the other side of it so you couldn't see it from within), but it was also down a sort of back alley situation that made it look particularly . . . industrial. What it essentially looked like was a very narrow, very long IKEA catalogue in the making, with furniture and appliances still being removed from their IKEA boxes while the men worked at building the kitchen. Oh, and since it WAS a garage, there were no windows. A skylight in each room was the closest thing we got to natural light. There were a number of reasons, as you may have guessed, why we did not choose this place, not the least being a fear of rickets from lack of exposure to the sun. Also, we were told we wouldn't have to pay council tax while living there, which gave a creeping suspicion that the property wasn't registered with the council for human habitation. We had to tell Tom we'd pass on that one.

The winner for worst property was out in Mile End, a "just-on-the market three bedroom mezzanine." This place had all sorts of bullshit going on. For starters, the agent had never seen the place before. When we got there, the man who answered the door had no idea why we were there, and spoke no English; he got his boss/property owner on the phone and made the agent talk to him and try his best to explain why we wanted in his house. When that was eventually sorted out, we walked around the ground floor of what was essentially a 1950s house in very bad repair: tacky, but livable. In the back yard was what looked like a chicken coop, though I think it was housing a scooter. It was when we got upstairs that we saw the full extent of the property's charms. The first bedroom was very small, and blank, except for a blue massage table sitting front and center. The second bedroom was crammed full of cheap metal bunk beds, and had a latch for locking from the outside. We were not allowed to see into the third bedroom--which also had a lock on the outside--because "there were people sleeping inside." To this day we aren't quite sure if it was more a site of human trafficking or prostitution; chances are good it was both. We did not place an offer on that particular house.

We did, however, find an acceptable home. Come 23 November, we will be residing in Bethnal Green, in a beautiful split level flat, right on the doorstep of all the trendy/cheap Eastend has to offer. I won't be moving in for a few weeks, since I still have to wait out the semester in my cell in the dorms, but just knowing that I have a real flat waiting for me makes things all the better.

Class:

Classes are going very well. I can't say that I'm in love with much of the literature I've been reading. The Victorians have never been my bag, and I don't expect that will change any time soon. I am now faced with trying to come up with an essay topic in some way relating to modernity, cities, and the late 19th century. I've got zero ideas, and one of my promises for this reading week has been to narrow something down.

I have, however, stumbled onto a thesis topic that might be fun. More on that once I start seriously researching it, and once I've had it approved by my advisers. No use getting excited about something that might not work out.

Dating:

What can I say? Middling success at best on the dating front. Some items are still developing that may change the score on my London dating game, however, and we are awaiting further results.

Money:

I have begun to come to terms with the price of things here. Though I still have no income whatsoever,--I've tried tutoring, but apparently my tutoring add makes me look like some sort of killer of children--I have been figuring out ways to survive in this capitol city. For one, I'm cooking a great deal. Also, I'm staying in with friends instead of going out, most of the time. Still, I'm spending more money than I would like to, between transit, food, and drinks. Clearly one of those could be more or less cut out, but what kind of life is that to lead?

So, two months into this adventure, I've read a great deal (though not a lot that has inspired me yet), I've made a good amount of friends, collected some new roommates, found a new flat, spent too much money, and all around had a swell time. My plans for the next two months involve moving into my new flat, doing some traveling, writing some essays, spending more time with friends, and trying to keep the spending under control. I think it's a pretty sunny outlook.