The Euro Crashes and Socialism's Father Rests

This weekend’s been somewhat of a wash, so there’s really not too much to say. In other words: this will be short.

Most of yesterday was spent writing (draft) essays for various scholarships I’m applying to for the 2012/13 school year, and when I wasn’t doing that, I was helping Nic run lines for his show that opens in about two hours (8PM Central)—break a leg, baby! Later in the evening, however, I joined KG & MM  for "EuroCrash! The Musical," which was written by their landlord. The synopsis is as follows:

“Meet Mark and Gilda—the Hansel and Gretel of Euroland—as they discover the fantasy world of the single currency. Meet Papa Kohl and Madame Mitterrand, the charming couple who hold it all together; meet the Snake, a clanky prototype; Jean-Claude Trichet, the last great eurocrat; the PIIGS, paying for past profligacy; the dark eminence of the mighty Bundesbank; and the wild, exotic currencies of central Europe. All this packed into a pantomime. Vicious rhymes, great music. From the creators of last year’s sell-out Broke Britannia!” ~ "EuroCrash! The Musical" Official Website

 

 

Image Courtesy of "EuroCrash! The Musical" Website

 

Now, I know what you’re thinking: that sounds…interesting. And you would be correct. It was actually quite amusing for the most part, and I walked away with a much better understanding of the euro’s history than I ever had before. The acting was good, and the lyrics to the songs were very cute! Who knew an economic downturn could be so much fun?

Following the show, I joined KG & MM at The Sun Inn for dinner and drinks (the second round; the first being at the show). The food was excellent, as was the atmosphere, but the company and conversation are what put it over the top as wonderful!

The Sun Inn / Image Courtesy of their Website

Somehow, today was even less productive than yesterday. Once again, I helped Nic run lines for a good portion of the day. Then, this evening, K&M went to her cousin’s house for a bit, so I went out for some British Chinese take-out at Xiong Mao. Instead of the stereotypical fortune cookie, however, I received two chicken wings. And no chopsticks. I was confused—either the hostess really, really liked me (hence the wings), or she hated me (hence the lack of a cookie and chopsticks)—so, of course, I took to the Facebook-program-store to state as much. Fortunately, a more worldly friend clarified that the fortune cookies are an American thing, and that the wings were probably because it’s Chinese New Year’s Eve, and then another friend, who lives in Cornwall, said that he’s never known Chinese take-away over here to come with chopsticks. Ah, cultural adjustments… Seriously, these are the types of tidbits that should be in one of those London: From A to Zed books!

At any rate, at home with my take-out, I turned on the telly, and what should I find: “Come Dine with Me.” I swear, that show is like crack and I’m a filthy junky! After noshing away and enjoying this week's batch of participants, I chatted with Nic and the folks for a bit, and then retired to watch BBC iPlayer in bed—which is currently streaming “Doubt,” an AMAZING movie if you haven’t seen it yet!

Well, that’s enough for now. Not sure what’s on the schedule for tomorrow yet—the hunt for housing resumes, and laundry happens. Those two things are definites. Beyond that, though, I may do the Westminster Abbey tour tomorrow.

P.S. to Cultural Studies and Queer Lit friends: I just found out that Karl Marx and Radclyffe Hall are buried in the SAME cemetery, and that it’s not far from here. Who’s going to be a creepy graveyard stalker? This guy!

Karl Marx Memorial (NB: This photo is NOT mine!)

Radclyffe Hall's Memorial (NB: This photo is NOT mine!)

An American Suburb in London

My apologies to everyone who’s been waiting with baited breath for my next installment—last night I was simply knackered, and couldn’t bring myself to type anything out. So, tonight you get a two-for:

YESTERDAY:

I had the day off yesterday, and spent most of it hunting for housing via the interwebs. No real luck, though, so I decided to sign-up for something called speed-flatmating. It’s like speed-dating, but…well, looking for flatmates. Hopefully that will work (especially after today’s experience—but more on that later)!

Later in the day, I attended a film night sponsored by UEL’s GLBTQ group. The event was...okay. But the film, called "Fit," should have been titled "Meh."

I mean, sure, I'm glad I did it for the experience, but it certainly wasn't worth the money or hours it took me to get there. There were only six other people there, and not a single one of them even introduced themselves to me, let alone did anything to make me feel welcomed. I was pretty disappointed by the whole thing.

We did watch two episodes of "Will & Grace" before the movie (which I find increasingly problematic the older I get, and the more academically minded I am). Nonetheless, it was interesting to see which American-based jokes landed, and which ones went over their heads. As for the movie: imagine "Step Up" (2, 3, or 10, since the first one was at least mildly enjoyable), meets "Fame," meets a high school coming out movie. My gravy, it was sooooo bad. 

I was feeling kind of disgusted after the fact—the group didn't even make an effort to get to know me as I was leaving—and I think that's because I partly assumed it would be kind of a ready-made friend set, you know? Like, they'd wonder what it was like to be gay in America or something. I don't know. But it wasn't what I expected.

So, at any rate, I tried to make myself feel better by swinging by Buckingham Palace on the way home for some more night photos. Wow—unlike Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, it was super sketchy and dark all around. And people were few and far between. I kind of feared for my safety a bit. (Unrelated to that last thought, but it was also the first place I've seen unhoused persons since I've been here, and someone vandalizing property—a young, well-dressed white woman tagging a phone booth). But I pushed through, determined to turn my mood around. I got one or two decent photos out of at least.

Buckingham Palace

I tried to get in, but they wouldn't let me...

...Or did they?

Finally, when I returned home, I watched two episodes of “The Inbetweeners,” which Nic and I typically watch courtesy of BBC America. For once, though, I was able to watch it unedited—and it was a bit overwhelming, actually. I just might prefer the bleeped out version a touch more. (Or, looking back at what I’ve written so far, maybe I’m just in a crabby, I-don’t-care-for-much mood today…)

TODAY:

Today was another non-school day, and another day of searching for housing. And this time I actually got an appointment to check out a place. Everything seemed good—the price, the location, the lack of a deposit—until I actually arrived: a huge portion of the wall against which the headboard was resting was caked in mold. Ugh! Obviously, I won’t be living there…

But, since I was in Stratford already, I decided to check-out one of London’s newest attractions, which has the UEL campus officials positively abuzz…

Ready…?

A Westfield’s mall.

Don’t get me wrong, it was a nice mall—but, I can honestly say that if when (and if) I ever get homesick for American culture, I can just pop over to the Westfield’s and it’ll be just like I’m home again. Except with a Marks & Spencer’s instead of Target. (Sadly, there was still no sign of Grace Brothers Department Store…)

They're free...mainly because I haven't found them yet. (Or because all but two of them are dead now...)

In short, I’d prefer spending my time in a more interesting London environment than one that I can find in practically any American suburb.

Ah, well, at least I got to watch another batch of episodes from “Come Dine with Me” (the celebrity version this time) when I came home. Oh, and I had dinner at a pub called “The Trout”—it was pretty tasty.

Until next time, remember: you've all done very well!

UEL Orientation (Day 3 of 3)

So, today was the third day of orientation, and, by far, the best, because it included the induction ceremony for my school...

 

 PLEASE STANDBY FOR AN EMERGENCY BULLETIN: 

Before I go too much further, I should provide some quick notes on differences between American and British English when it comes to discussing academics. For one thing, “college” is called “university” over here (apparently, “college” is a term used for posh high schools). Next, “courses” are referred to as “modules,” and your program of study (e.g., Cultural Studies) is called your “course.”

THIS CONCLUDES THE EMERGENCY BULLETIN… 

Okay, got that? So, the induction was for my program of study (Cultural Studies) and things related to it.

It kicked off with a two-on-one meeting with the head of the program, Debbie Shaw. She’s seems to be a really cool person, and she even remembered me from her brief visit to Columbia for last year’s Cultural Studies Association conference. She gave us the ins-and-outs of the program, and instilled a bit of the fear of God into us regarding assessments (the primary method of evaluation our progress—there are two of them per semester, and one is worth approximately 45% of our final grade and the other is worth about 35% of our final grade). I wasn’t able to meet my second teacher because he won’t be back from his sabbatical until next week (I'm excited to talk more with him because most of his CS work centers on sex and pornography!), and my third teacher wasn’t there either. Ah, well.

After meeting with Debbie, I had some downtime. Starving, I grabbed a full English breakfast from The Edge (one of our on-campus restaurants)—eggs, friend bread, bacon (ham), hash browns, and beans; and, no, I did not eat any of the mushrooms or black pudding. Yummy yummy yummy—I’ve been waiting for a FEB since about two minutes after I left London the last time!

I ate my meats, but didn't want any puddin'!

Having stuffed myself, I meandered around the main hall of East Building. I glossed over most of the groups advertising their things because they were all sports-related, and anyone who has known me for more than a few minutes knows that I’m not sports-inclined. But then…

Wait... what? Did I just see what I thought I saw?

Why… yes… it’s…

UEL HAS A TRIATHLON CLUB!

It’s £30 for the semester, and I’ll have access to swim-training on one night and biking/running on another. Coaches will also be available, and, when I asked about my lack of a bike in the UK, I was told that I could just rent it if I wanted. Even better, the team currently consists of some staff members and two students (neither of whom has actually done a tri before)—meaning, despite my lackluster physicality, I’m still the most experienced one of the lot! AMAZING! So, yeah, I think I’m gonna sign up for that bad-boy—but I am NOT swimming in the Thames!

After chatting it up with the students advertising the triathlon group, I headed on to my next session: a meeting with Hugh Bowman, the Cultural Studies program’s personal librarian. He’s a 64 year old Scotsman—at least I hope he’s a Scotsman—with a really long, gray, shaggy beard. From the start, he reminded me of Dooley from “Santa Claus: The Movie.” And he was also very pleasant and quite humorous, rounding out the comparison. (He also has the distinction of being the first actual UK citizen I’ve heard use the phrase “Bob’s your uncle!”)

Best. Librarian. Ever. (Next to Barbara Worley.)

After Hugh, two other speakers inundated us with information on everything from the campus bookstore, to emergency phone numbers, to equipment rentals (e.g., cameras, sound equipment, laptops, etc.), and more. As if all that wasn’t bad enough, the leader then played a 13 minute video about all of the accommodations UEL offers for students who need them (e.g., dyslexia services, childcare, etc.)—in all, about 9 people were interviewed during the course of the video, and at the end of each segment they would repeat the URL where viewers could find out more: “double-u, double-u, dot; you-eee-el; dot-co-dot-u-kay; forward-slash ______” By about the third time I could no longer hold my giggles, because I just kept hearing the Georgie character (from “The Catherine Tate Show”) plugging one of her charity websites!

Obviously, I do not own any of the material seen in this video.

It is an excerpt from an episode of "The Catherine Tate Show."

I am merely borrowing it for the purposes of demonstration.

Orientation ended with a lovely reception in the Art and Design gallery, where the Dean served us wine and sandwiches. She was a lovely woman from Dublin, with short salt-and-pepper hair and striking eyes. Both the Dean and the Vice-Chancellor offered us their words of welcome, and then we were able to mingle with staff for a bit. Very nice.

Don’t worry, I’m almost done…

Below you’ll find a few snapshots form my continued exploration of London at night. Tonight I took the DLR all the way to the Tower Hill stop, where I hopped out and walked around the Tower of London and Tower Bridge (and City Hall). I love this freakin’ city!

Until next time, remember: Bob’s your uncle!

PS: Today was a two-coffee day (awwww); but, I got to watch another episode of "Come Dine with Me" on TV (yay)!

Tower Bridge

Brett at Tower Bridge

The Tower of London

The White Tower at the Tower of London

Brett at the White Tower at the Tower of London

UEL Orientation (Day 2 of 3)

The second of three orientation days wasn’t terribly eventful. Neither, for that matter, was my day—meaning this will be short. All it consisted of was formally enrolling, having my visa checked by school officials, and getting my new student ID. 

(The ID is kind of interesting, but only because everything—and I mean EVERYTHING—is dependant on this little swipe card! Without it, you can’t even get into the bathroom, let alone your classroom or the building it’s in. Oh, and you even have to swipe it when you come into class, ’cause that’s how they track attendance.)

After that (about three hours total), I came home and did a bunch of UEL-related stuff on the computer (e.g., looking more into the various social groups on campus), spent a while in my quest for housing (no responses yet), ate dinner with KG and MM while watching the news, and then Skyped with the family.

Now, here it is at 10 PM GMT, and I’m ready for bed. Tomorrow should be a bit more interesting, mainly because it’s orientation for my program of study.

Going down…

UEL Orientation (Day 1 of 3)

Well, today was the big day: orientation at UEL (part 1 of 3); and, it went very well! Now sit right back and allow me to regale you (bore you?) with the day’s adventures…

It all started, as no morning ever should, at 4:58 AM GMT, when I woke up for no freakin’ reason. I mean, seriously, I had another hour-and-a-half in which I could have rested. Alas, it was not meant to be. So, I tossed and turned for a bit, until, finally, I just said, ‘Screw it!’ and went over to the computer…

And who had just posted on my FB wall their well-wishes for my day? The divine Mr Ruley, that’s who. Turns out he was just about to go to bed as I was getting up. So we chatted it up for a bit online before I finally resigned myself to the fact that it was time to go. That was Great Start Event #1.

Great Start Event #2 happened as I was making my trek toward the tube stop: first, my iPod randomly selected Eartha Kitt’s “An Englishman Needs Time.” Why was this so great? Well, lemme tell ya: it’s awesome on one level simply because it was Heavenly Eartha herself, on another because it was a recording taken from the concert that Nic and I saw her perform live, and on a third level because it was about an Englishman and I’m in, well, England.

And then (Great Event #3), my iPod started playing “It’s Getting Better” by Mama Cass Eliot (Mamas and the Papas). Again, you may wonder why I’m classifying this as something great. You see I fell in love with the song (and the group) through their inclusion in one of the most romantic gay films I’ve ever seen: “Beautiful Thing.” (The flick in question was one of the few things that kept me sane in the early days of my coming to terms with my sexual identity—try as I might to find positive, happy representations of gayness, queer filmmakers of the ’90s were seemingly eager to paint a picture of gayness equaling misery, suffering, death, drugs, and infidelity. Damn it, I wanted more—and found exactly what I was looking for in the sweet love story of Jamie and Ste.) At any rate, the song was awesome/fitting because the film is set in Thamesmead, about 2.69 miles away from UEL. (Hmm….a day trip might be happening soon…)

Eventually, I made my way to the tube and began my journey proper. The entire trip took me about 1.5 hours—first I had to transfer from the District to the Jubilee line, and then I had to switch again to the Docklands Light Rail (DLR). Shockingly, it wasn’t bad!

Part of My Journey

Orientation itself was a bit overwhelming! Lots of information coming our way about everything from library services, to visa no-no’s, to trips around London and elsewhere. It was all a bit much, but after I’ve had some time to digest it all, it should (hopefully) make sense.

At 12:30 PM GMT we were given £5 vouchers to any of the multiple eating establishments on-campus. I wasn’t interested in much, so I just grabbed an egg sandwich and a coffee*—except, the grandmotherly cashier wouldn’t let me get away with just that. She kept insisting that it was a waste of money (as the two items only came to £2.65, or thereabouts), and forcing food on me! First, she told me to take an apple, which I did so as to be polite. Next, she told me to take a banana—I protested that it was too much, but she insisted…and then she insisted again, telling me to take a second banana! Finally, to top it all off, she told me to pick up a pack of belVita Breakfast Biscuits! It was all a bit absurd, but I did as I was told—guess I have dessert and breakfast for tomorrow.

Grandmotherly Cashier, or Nabisco Enforcer?

Following my sandwich and coffee, I wandered around the campus a bit. It really is a unique place—between the adjoining Thames and the occasional fishy breeze, one definitely feels as if they’re near docks, and the colorful, rounded dorms blend in almost perfectly with that nautical setting. Then there’s the London city airport, which is directly across the river—the large(ish) planes landing and taking off within seeming arm-reach is really cool. In some ways, UEL is very reminiscent of Columbia, but in other ways it’s just different enough that (at least at this point) it makes me feel a touch homesick. 

UEL/Docklands Dorms on the Thames

London City Airport and the Thames (Behind the Big Giant Head)

At 2:00 PM GMT, a group of us headed over to the Gallions Reach shopping center. There wasn’t too much there, but it was fun to go along on my first excursion with my London peers.

Around 5:30 PM GMT, I finally left campus and started the long trek home. I did make one final detour though: when it came time to transfer from the Jubilee to the District line, I left the tube and made my way to the street-level. You see, I was at the Westminster Stop, and one of my biggest regrets from the last time Nic and I were here was that I never got decent photos of the Palace of Westminster (the parliament building) at night. Tonight I rectified that, as can be seen from the photos below. And while I was there, I was able to actually hear Big Ben toll the 6:00 hour.

The Millennium Eye

Brett, "Big Ben," and Palace of Westminster

Westminster Abbey

After wandering for a bit, I returned home and chatted briefly, once more, with Nic as he prepared for tonight’s show. Then I enjoyed a yummy dinner of chicken and rice with KG and MM while watching “Coronation Street.” (I’m sure I’ll talk more about it later, but I’ve had a great time discussing British soaps and audience interaction with KG and MM while I’ve been here—I think the fact that they’re such a phenomenon over here is awesome, and I really want to get at that difference between British and USAmerican culture. I also think it’s interesting that British soaps are ongoing narratives like our own, despite the fact that so many other British television programs are self-contained narratives.)

Anyway, I’ve blathered on enough for one night—time to close shop.  Till the bell tolls again...

* I haven’t mentioned it here yet, but I’m trying to curb my coffee addiction while I’m here. I’ve done really well the last two days, having a single, small cup both days. No more. Quite the change from my multi-pot/day habit!

Keep Skating, Laila!

Another day, another update.

Today was pretty much a jet-lag recovery day (though, by about 8 PM GMT, I was ready for bed)—meaning this will be a pretty boring update, I’m sad to say.

After waking up at 10 AM, I started the process of finding housing for the bulk of my stay here. I think I’m starting to see an uptick in prices (possibly related to the Olympics?), ’cause some of the more reasonable prices I found prior to coming out here are as long gone as John Dean—and the things that do fit my budget frequently have restrictions based on gender, student-status, etc. Blah.

After banging my head against that wall, I joined KG and MM for a nice, long walk—I think we went about 5 or 6 miles total. We walked along the coast of the Thames for a while, and then cut through the village of Barnes. Finally, right before completing the circuit, we had a scrumptious dinner at the Red Lion Pub (where I enjoyed a nice, frothy Guinness—how I’ve missed you, real(er) Guinness)!

When we got home, and shortly before I spoke briefly to Nic and Aki and prepared to conk out for the night, we watched “Dancing on Ice.” Now let me ask you: Do you know who this contestant is?

Laila Morse and Łukasz Różycki

Aside from being on “Eastenders,” a local soap, she’s the sister of friggin’ Gary Oldman! And she was dancing…on ice! Okay, okay—she wasn’t good, and she got kicked off her first time out (probably because I liked her). But she’s a soap star, an older woman, less than petite, and the sister of a fine actor, so I had to give her a special shout-out. (And it didn’t hurt the show's chances, in my eyes, that they also featured the guys on the left and right below—woof!)

Matthew Wolfenden (L), Mark Hanretty (R)...and some others.

Well, that’s enough blathering about nothing for tonight. Tomorrow’s the first of three orientation days I have to attend this week, and I’ll have to get up by 6:30 AM GMT just to make it on time.

Until next time: keep skating!

Here I am, London!

So, here I am.

London. The United Kingdom.

January 14, 2012. (Or, as the Brits might say, 14 January 2012.)

Okay, okay…it’s technically the 15^th at this point. But you can’t blame me for being confused—it’s been almost 48 hours since the last time I slept, but I wanted to get a lot of this out now, while it’s still fresh in my mind.

At any rate, my journey abroad began in earnest yesterday (today? two days ago?), 13 January 2012, at around 12:30 PM. With two large suitcases, a laptop, and my book-bag, Nic and I sat out for O’Hare. I was a mushy mess for most of it, but I did provide Nic with the…uhm, awesome (can I call it that?) pre-trip interview you can find linked here…

Who's This Handsome Traveller?

Okay, so maybe it’s not the best video in the world—but I think I looked cute in my little traveling hat. (By the way, did you catch my Anderson-Cooper-like nervous giggle around the 1:00 mark?)

Shortly after the video we made our way to the TSA security area and said our goodbyes. Pandas everywhere were weeping. It was pretty sappy, so I won't go into it too much here. 

And after that it was a matter of simply waiting for my plane…

And waiting…

And waiting…

And waiting…

It turns out that, thanks to the blizzard-like conditions on Wednesday, numerous flights in and out of O’Hare were delayed. Including mine. We didn’t actually take off until about 5:30 PM CST. Now, if I had been scheduled on a direct flight to London this would not have been a problem—but I had a connecting flight in Toronto at 8:30 PM EST.

Even then, I wasn’t too worried…

Until I learned that I would have to go through Canadian customs, collect my baggage, and then make my way all the way to the opposite side of the airport, recheck my baggage with British Airways, and then go to the proper terminal...

And then BA informed me that American Airlines had not given me the proper receipts for my checked baggage, so there was a chance I would have to pay again. (Fortunately, a call was placed to a supervisor and BA allowed me to just give them the copy of my receipt from AA.)

A long, tense story cut short: I made it on to the BA flight as scheduled, and we took off for London at around 9:30 EST. That flight was fairly uneventful, other than a baby who cried and cried the whole way, preventing any chance at sleep. Oh, well—I can sleep when I’m back in the States, right? Oh, and I got to enjoy a Canada Dry ginger ale while flying over Canada. It amused me… Clearly, I was already sleep-deprived.

At around 9:30 AM GMT my flight touched down at London’s Heathrow Airport. I was a bit worried going through customs because I had received conflicting information regarding the visa application process, and so I feared there was a chance I would be deported before I even had a chance to do anything deportation-worthy. Fortunately, the agent didn’t seem fussed, and actually commented that I had provided too much information—that all I actually needed (for the length of time I’m staying) were the letters from Columbia and UEL.

Within about an hour of my arrival in London, I was safe and secured in the home of our (mine and Nic’s) friends, KG and MM—they’ve been kind enough to provide me shelter from the elements until I conquer Buckingham Palace and make it my summer home… I mean, find a suitable (cheap) flat somewhere.

The rest of the day was pretty much a blur—I’m terribly jetlagged (hence the boring post here, which you probably stopped reading eons ago, meaning I can just say yadda yadda yadda shapoopie and no one would notice). I have already discovered two awesome shows, however. The first is called “Come Dine with Me” and the other is called “Borgen” (a subtitled import from Denmark). And, before I sat down to type this, I chatted with Nic and the Fish through FaceTime for almost an hour, which was wonderful!

FaceTimin' it with the Family!

And on that note, I need to grab some sleep.

Until next time…

Do. Not. Be. Alarmed!

In just 169 hours and 25 minutes—10,165 minutes from now—a plane will take off from Chicago’s O’Hare airport. Its final destination: London’s Heathrow airport. Its contents: Me.

But I’m not just any “me,” you see...

I’m an American…

An American who is traveling abroad for the purposes of going to school.

Now, you can’t see it but I’m nodding my head empathetically as you groan, because I understand all too well the penchant our people have for being terrible visitors in other countries.

But I’m not like so many of the others, I swear—I don’t believe Reagan, Palin, or Santorum hold the answers (hell, I don’t even think they hold a brain between them); I don’t like the Kardashians or John Wayne; and, I’d rather have my wisdom teeth surgically restored and removed for a second time than go to the Jersey Shore.

And to prove that I’m not like other American tourists, I hereby make this solemn vow to those unknown persons whom I will encounter over the coming months (as well as the US Department of State):

AS AN AMERICAN TRAVELER I WILL NOT…

• Wear anything with the American flag printed on it;
• Remind the Queen or her subjects that we “beat the Red Coats;”
• Speak/laugh loudly and boisterously;
• Tour portrait galleries and say, “But did anything actually important happen here?”
• Put my head under the vestments of Westminster Abbey’s clergy (as I once saw a young French tourist do);
• Refer to non-American ways of doing things as “weird” or “wrong” (including the usage of the letter “u” in words like “colour”);
• Try to hook-up with Pippa (though James Middleton and Prince Harry are fair game!);
• Claim that the American versions of “The Office,” “Prime Suspect,” or any other remake is better, ‘cause let’s face it they’re not…

And, of course, this is just an abbreviated list of promises. There’s more to it, but if I were to type it all out I’d be here all day.

 (Image from "National Lampoons: European Vacation")

Now that all of that business is out of the way, I should probably say something about the reason for my upcoming travels. As I alluded to above, I’m going to London for academic reasons: my home-school (Columbia College) in Chicago, Illinois, has selected me for the study abroad program.  As such—and with the support and encouragement of my wonderful partner who’s staying here in Chi-Town—I’ll be spending the Spring 2012 semester at the University of East London, taking courses through their Cultural Studies program. I won’t say too much more about it now, though, because I’m sure I’ll be flooding this thing with details in the months to come. Instead, I think I will merely draw this post to a close.

  

Until next time, sweetie-darlings!