somewhere a clock is ticking

It’s been a lifetime since I wrote the last entry: one week. This is the thing: I was lying in bed last week, really sad and all, and I knew it would get better – or at least I knew the odds were very high. And here I am – and life is revolutionized. I’ve got the internet up in my room, due to some technology I don’t understand and a bunch of ₤s. I’ve got some semblance of a crew and days filled with laughter and teasing people and talking to people – all my favorite things. This is London with all the basics covered. This is London where I can finally settle down and be happy with things that are personal and start to get to know the city.

No new pictures – I feel like I’m wasting my time. But it’s only been a week. I’ve had all my classes by now – all that’s settled. I just started writing about my classes but I feel that’s really the least interesting of everything, though that’s not supposed to be the case. Okay, they’re interesting, but not to write about. Not to read about. Except I had a class today with the weirdest little strange man in England – for my ‘France and Germany Since 1870’ – first he looked really mean, then just really started to freak me out. He makes spastic gestures with his hands and touches his hair a lot and has a face like a chipmunk. I'm afraid I might have to change classes. I don't know if I can handle more of this.

Also don't want to miss gallery visits for my museum curating class to listen to a deranged chipmunk talk happily about the Third Reich. Oh, shit.

Niches and Nietzsche - I am finding both here.

I've covered a lot of London in the last week but I haven't done any real exploring like I planned to do - the spiritual alone kind. Tomorrow is the start of my four day weekend and I'm going to Greenwich.