I’m not dead.

…yet. I’m just terrible at time management. I’m working on it. This exact same thing happened in China. I created a blog, thought of things to fill it with, then never did anything with them. Maybe I’ll figure it out this time. Maybe.

First things first: I updated my iOS to 10 and it was possibly the worst decision I’ve made in my entire life. That’s right, MY ENTIRE LIFE. Even worse than the time I thought it was okay to wear a leopard print dress. Even worse than when I made a pan of brownies and ate them all within the span of a few hours (this actually occurred multiple times and will probably have a repeat appearance). It is that dire of a situation. Okay, so maybe not really. But it was still a mistake. I feel like some old curmudgeon struggling with new-fangled technology. “KIDS THESE DAYS!” *shakes fist*

Moving on.

I’ve almost completed one full week of classes. Just have to get through tomorrow. I have tons of stories to tell. None of which you’ll hear because I’m lazy and no one cares anyway. Okay, okay, you talked me into it.
Today I only had one class. It was the combined BA/MA lecture for my “Classical Art: Making” course. Thankfully, it starts later in the day. We had an assignment on Tuesday to look up a tool assigned to us and learn its uses in the stone carving process (I had the tooth chisel, in case you were curious). We were also assigned a short reading. The reading took me FOREVER. I don’t know why. It was interesting, I actually liked it. Yet I still found myself staring blankly at the page and rereading the same sentence five dang times. In the end, I decided to try the next day. I got to campus around 1:00 (class was at 3:00) and camped out in the hallway outside my class. The reading still took me ages. I even had a good night’s sleep in me, so who knows. I hope that’s not a foretelling of the future. I did finish the paper, and I think took in most of what it was about. The lecture sort of reiterated everything and we never discussed the reading. So…maybe that’s normal. I don’t know.
I actually think my professor is really hilarious. Unintentionally so, most times. He’s the one that reminds me of Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Only a more scholarly version. He’s tall, lanky, with shaggy brown hair, and a laid back attitude. He also always seems a little out of sorts. Yet he’s also quite smart (obviously, he’s a professor). Dr. Shaggy (he shall be called) likes to illustrate what he is lecturing on (which I love, because it helps me understand better when I see it like ten different ways) by actually drawing on the board. Whether it is a strange diagram, sketched out tools, a convoluted list, or whatever, he attempts it. Dr. Shaggy is definitely not a Da Vinci in the making. And there isn’t necessarily a method to the madness; he tags things on the board wherever they will fit. Then mumbles to himself as he tries to find room to fit another image/word/what have you.
This weekend, I need to go to the British Museum to find a sculpture or other piece of Classical art to make notes on. We all will have our separate pieces that we will present informally on Tuesday to the class, and discuss what the methods for making it likely were, how long it probably took, and where the materials came from. While I’m nervous for mucking this up, I can’t help but sort of love this class. I think later down the line I’ll actually get to try and make things in the Classical manner *squeal*. …I also have more reading, though. Boo. Perhaps it’ll be easier this time.

I received my first loan installment today. Part of me is ecstatic because I don’t have to worry about paying anything. The other part of me wants to vomit when I think about all the debt I am racking up. My original idea was to get a job strictly to pay off my interest as it accrues. Yet after hearing how advanced everyone else is compared to me in the classes, and seeing the workload, I’m terrified I won’t be able to handle part time work and school. I was always spoiled and never worked and studied at the same time. Real life is hard. I keep thinking about my friend, Ash, who worked full time a CTL and went to school. He was always tired, but he worked his ass off and finished out with great grades and his MBA in hand. He’s pretty much the epitome of perseverance.
I am not like that. I am definitely cut from a different cloth.

This evening I’ve been working on Greek. I went through and made note cards of all the capital and lower case letters. Most of which I am atrocious at writing. The exceptions being the ones that look exactly like my good ole English letters, of course. The rest of them I chicken scratched into existence. Any Greek person would look at my notecards and scoff at my lame attempts.
After this, I went through the book and wrote next to the word examples what the English equivalent would be. There was a big ole paragraph my teacher told us to read through, so I went ahead and started transliterating that on a separate page, too. I thought it was going to be like the other exercises: English words made with Greek letters. Nope. About the third sentence in I was positive I wasn’t just mistranslating everything. The paragraph was definitely in another language (you know, like, maybe Greek). So then I went back and tried to fill in the meaning of the words from the vocab list. I’m not sure if I was supposed to do all this. I am also not sure what it all means because the grammar is something I don’t get yet. Here, enjoy this snapchat photo of me pretending to be working. It even has a cute London filter (ooooh, aaaahhh, eeeee):img_9026
I was mad at Britain today, and I told my British friends so. I’m sure they did not care. My mother and I have been wondering why the heck my first package hasn’t arrived yet. I finally searched the tracking codes and found that it is being held in customs – get this – until I pay for it. Yep. I have to pay to receive a package full of used items. Not new things that I’ve bought all shiny and still in the box. These are my raggedy-ass jeans and cardigans. And a few boxes of mac-n-cheese and corn bread mix. But still. I’ll pay import taxes on the mac-n-cheese. Fine, I get that. But on my own damn jeans? DOES NOT COMPUTE. I was so mad earlier as I thought about it, and I finally had to make myself stop. I am going to try to call and talk to someone and ask why I have to pay for my own old jeans. I doubt anything will come of it, but it can’t hurt to try. …right? I’d like to point out that China was never difficult like this. And I got LOADS of stuff there.

That’s pretty much been my whole day. Our newest housemate moved in today. So there are officially 8 people in the house. Woo. I have yet to meet the new guy. He’s French. So we now have a Lithuanian, Jamaican, Polish, Scott, French, American, and two British people. Regular UN in the making. Annnnd still only one bathroom. I’ve started to get over my fear of public toilet usage. There’s more anonymity there. Jussayin’.

Also, I wanted to share these short video clips from my train ride this evening but WordPress won’t let me. Apparently you have to pay for a premium account to upload videos. Booo-hiisssss! They weren’t that interesting of videos, anyway.


About Lost in London

I often have no clue what I am doing. I get lost, A LOT. I have a terrible sweet tooth which I say I am fighting, but I usually follow that claim up with inhaling a cupcake. Currently I am attempting to live in London and get my Masters. Come and watch me blunder!
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to I’m not dead.

  1. Rebecca says:

    Another roommate! Are you kidding me? Where do they all sleep? Not to mention one bathroom!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s