Where in the World is Tim?

My nocturnal treks have become something of a regular occurrance. I find that at the end of the night I'm always returning from somewhere. Be it someone's flat, work, a play, or an epic battle with an elite shadow military platoon or giant Assyrian statue come to life, I always top off the night with a long walk home. And don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good walk. Those of you who have wondered why I don't drive might find that my enjoyment of walking is one of the things that enables me to survive without wheels. It also gives me my only moments to myself. When you live a life like I do which keeps you in constant company with friends, fellow students, bosses, mystically animated historical artifacts, and a roommate like Long, (not that I mind my life) you look foreward to the quiet reflection that comes with a long walk. But I've noticed as of late that my walks are not as alone as I'd thought. I've started attracting company. On my most recent trips home I've been followed. My shy new friend is a small gray fox.

I don't know why this one fox has taken a liking to me, or if there is a large fox population in London that I am just now noticing. I just know that in the shadows that come out at night, there is a fox following in my foot steps. I shall have to find an all encompassing tome of knowlege in which to look up whether a gray fox is an omen or portent.

On a less cryptic note, I saw my friend Simon the other day. We went out for drinks (don't get excited Kevin, I had ice water), and just caught up. I hadn't seen Simon in years, and never in his natural habitat. It was fun, I hope we have time to do it again. Although I am a little peeved at him for letting a rat that I'd kept secret out of the bag.

Simon, for all of you readers not in the know, is a friend I've had since I was about five (I don't know the actual year we met, but it was a long time ago). He is Engish, and grew up about as far away from London as I did from Boston. We two ran in very different circles for most of the year, circles roughly 2,500 miles apart. However, in the summers, his family would come to the states, and hang out at the same pool club where my family cooled down. And it was there that Simon and I became friends. Now Lyss and Greg said that Simon and I looked and acted alike. I don't see it. I think they're crazy. But I can say that Simon seems to have the perfect life. He is working on his Masters part time and writing in the other part of his time. It might not be a swanky rtitzy life style, but he gets to sleep until 11 every day.

I FINALLY got to the British Museum on Sunday (which is NOT where the National Gallery is, my bad). I know I've been there twice before (and still didn't know where it was), but the British Museum is still soooo cool. Even cooler than the last time I was there. The Assyrian stuff is still my favorite, but man the Reading Room looked tempting. I'll need to find an excuse to do work there.

-Tim

So last night I went to see my first Shakespearian play while I'm here. I saw Antony and Cleopatra, starring Patrick Stewart. A&C is a show I'd never seen or read before, and it was better than I'd expected. It was costumed as if it took place in Rome (which was nice not to have to deal with the director's idea 'what if Antony and Cleopatra lived on a magical island populated by talking dinosaurs), and all in all it was a good prodection. Even though I knew the story, it was really interesting to see Stewart explore the final frontier: love.

Stewart, at least in my oppinion, did a good job (this does not extend to whoever played the roll of his wig). He played the role as comical. Some people (who sound like a goose when they laugh, and think their oppinion should be universally excepted as fact) had problems with this choice. I, however, agree with Mr Stewarts choice. Antony is a deeply stupid character, and shouldn't be played as if his decisions were those of an ingenious military tactician. This is not to say his actions were not noble, that is subject to debate. But his military defeat, and subsiquent death (spoiler alert) is due to his folly. It would be out of character if the audiance respected him. The director succeeded in making one of Shakespeare's trageties laugh out loud funny (even to Black Adder).

Although what I think is even funnier than the show, is the conversation I keep hearing about it. No body uses Patrick Stewart's name when they talk about him, nor do they refer to him as 'Prof X'. He is always called 'that bald guy from Star Trek'. Everyone knows who he is, but no one wants to admt that they know. Me thinks they all protest too much. To all you closet Trekies, live long and prosper.

I learned something at the show too. Did you know 'Man of Steel' (aka Superman) is a line from A&C?!? My jaw dropped when Mr Stewart said it. Whoo Krypton rocking the Jacobian drama quotes.

-Tim

PS
I feel like I'm forgetting something about today. Oh well, can't be that important.

So while other people (I'm talking about Greg and Alyssa, for theirs are the only two other London blogs I know of)have been writing in their London blogs about what their first classes have been like, or their touristy adventures in the Big Lime (a term of my own invention that I'm hoping will catch on) I seem to have been in remiss when it came to dealing with the "abroad" side of my studies. For this I apologize to my loyal readers who want nothing more than to know what it is really like on the mythical isle of Ing-Land (the island of verbs), not to be confused with the mysterious "place" known only as Lon Guile Land, which lies East of NYC, but can not be charted on any map. In fairness to myself, I did attempt to write about the day I walked around London. London, it should be here pointed out, totally cheats when it comes to obeying the laws of space time. How else could I have walked in a straight line out of Hyde Park toward the Thames, and wound up walking into Hyde Park? The very logisitcs of the situation boggle the mind.

But there is a method to my madness. I believe that the abroad experiance is three fold. First there is the idea of living in another place, completely (although not so completely here) different from what life is like in America. The second is the intellectual side, often overlooked by the students at the time, but it is important to keep tabs on what and how you learn over here (in Narnia) that you couldn't do back stateside. If you want blogs devoted to these two principles I will gladly reckoment Greg's blog (manwiththelime.blogspot.com) and Alyssa's (jerseygirlinlondon.blogspot.com). My mission statement is to cover than third, tenuous aspect of abroadities so rarely talk about in the series of tubes. There is a certain madness that comes with abroad travel, like jetlag that never goes away. Some might say that it is being put out of your bubble, but those people are stupid. It's more like the sudden realization that the entire human population of the world are all so frustratingly similar, and refuse to admit it. My blog, which may seem surreal at times, is intended to address the general madness in the world, and one sane individual's attempt to cope with the realization that everything's gone pear-shaped.

-Dante

I know, I know. The title of this post is not that clever, but I felt it fit in terms of accuracy. It turns out that the hassles of setting up internet in a new flat abound. The girl who would have been my flatmate, had she not been moving out the day I moved in, told me that the best internet connection to get is Now.com. She said it was the cheapest, and it's what she uses. But I checked the Now website, and they say that Now is not offered in my area at this moment in time (aka there is no Now now). So, fine, I'll swallow my pride and pay the extra pound for AOL internet access. I know AOL is bad, but bad is better than nothing. So as I started to register with AOL, I had to tell then my phone number. So I typed in the number of my mobile. AOL says that its a fake number and I should stop playing practical jokes. So fine, screw you AOL. If Orange is the only company that can supply me with internet, I have no problem dealing with happy white peanuts and their same sex unions (the mascots in Orange ads are creepy). It would cost 20 pounds a month (twice as much as Now), but whatever. I need internet, it is an inelastic resource (if I may use economics terms). But no! AOL had called up Orange and told them about me and my phone number funny business.

I guess what I need to do is go back to the flat and find the land-line phone number. I would call Long, because he's chilling there now, but he doesn't have a cell phone. With any luck, I'll be hooked up to the series of tubes soon. Wait, does that mean the internet uses the London metro to get arround? It's all beginning to come together.

-Tim

Do you want to hear about the flat Long and I said 'no' to?

It was affordable. With internet included. Close to Greg and Alyssa and those guys. It was in a REALLY nice building, in a REALLY nice area of town, on a quiet little street. But really close to a busy exciting one. It was literally right above a tube stop that had a shopping center with a bagle place, a big tesco, and a health food store right in it. And did I mention, it was AFFORDABLE?!?

But one of our flat mates was a smoker, so Long didn't want to live there.

Good thing we said no or else we might have wound up living there, happy and content util the day we dropped dead of second hand smoking two weeks into the program.

-Tim

Daleks!

I'm here all safe and sound and checked in. The flight was long and uncomfortable, but it's over and I survived. I did get a chance to the 'The Queen' (the movie not the monarch) on the plane, and it was good. Made me want to abolish the monarchy, but then again what doesn't stir that urge inside me?

I have not yet changed the Sim in my BCN phone. I haven't really had time yet. Unfortunately I don't pick up a roaming signal, so I can't use it for anything other than Tetris for now.

I did wind up taking a taxi from Paddington (the taxi pick-up place is NOT where you said it was Dad). I figured i could put aside my miserly ways in the interest of getting to the hotel ASAP. Also it wound up being cheaper than I expected to get from Heathrow because some German guy gave me his extra Heathrow Express ticket for cheap. So I wound up spending the amount of money I would have if I'd paid full fare for the ticket and took the tube.

My main goal when I got to the hotel was just to crash, but the hotel had other plans. They are testing the fire alarms in the hotel until 1 o'clock in the afternoon. It turns out they work. But I guess with that group of rowdy Ithaca rapscallions coming they want to be extra sure we can't burn it down. The hotel itself (like all English Hotels, I expect) is built like a maze. I'm pretty sure that with all the hallways I walk down to get to my room I'm somewhere near back at Heathrow, if not Chicago. But I'm in room 144, which is a perfect square and my bowling score of the other day, so I'm happy.

-Tim