freedom is just another word for "nothing to lose"

first real day of class. was awesome. we had a reading quiz on the secret agent by joseph conrad (about this guy who is the owner of a porn shop by day, anarchist by night, and spy for the Russian embassy in secret). sounds like a blast right? it sucked. at least, the first half did. I wouldn't know a damn thing about the second half. but I'm pretty sure I got a 9/10 on the reading quiz. (thanks bonus question!) after our professors had read out the first question the fire alarm went off and 300 people had to exit the building. so typical.

our first discussion lasted about an hour and a half and we talked about our experiences from yesterday at St. Pauls, the Tate Modern, and then about the book. I successfully contributed my 2 cents. or should I say pence? sorry that's just some cute British humour. you wouldn't understand...

I have 2 professors teaching here. The first, Michael Levenson, I've had for 2 semesters but as the professor in front of a class of 300+ teaching parts 2 and 3 of "the history of English lit." he co-taught both courses with prof. Cushman. they are both great guys and amazing teachers but they seem to thrive on the energy of teaching such a big class. in this smaller class of 30ish, Levenson is still very fun and cool and has actually made a great effort to get to know the students on a 1:1. yesterday we talked briefly about my life and he seemed moderately interested. just wait till i get famous, Levenson, then you can say you knew me when my life story consisted of "fairfax, bogart, and a double major." Clare Kinney is the other professor here, born in Northern England in the countryside and very bright. she pushed her way all the way up the ranks of the education ladder to Cambridge, where we will be visiting on Friday! anyway, I really love both the professors. they are both so interesting, obviously love London, and even though they've been teaching this summer study abroad for years, it doesn't seem rehearsed. it all seems like they're starting fresh and making new comments, learning as we do. even our program admins (Jon and Meg, adorable married couple who both took this class as undergrads and who are now PhDs) contribute a lot and say the most thought provoking things. as do many of the students here. wahoowa! (ps: today's blog title is copyright Professor Kinney. took my breath away when she said it too.)

after we got lunch we started watching "the Up Series," a documentary film that began shooting in 1964 with a bunch of 7-year old british kids of varying classes to determine whether their social situations would pre-determine their lives. we watched Seven-Up! (the first installment with the seven year olds) and Seven plus 7 (the second one when the kids were 14). the series continues with new installments every seven years and is soooo interesting. the kids changed quite a bit from the first to second episodes, becoming less innocent and naive and more calculating and self-conscious. very odd combo. some of the cuties from the first episode became heinously unattractive teens going through their awkward puberty stage. so ew. i'm pumped for 21 Up! it'll be weird to see them at my own age.

after the movie and discussion we went on a walk through Regent's Park. we were going to see The Crucible in the open outdoor theater but it was mad rainy so we made alternate plans to potentially see "The Prince of Persia" but it was optional and I was thinking "not so much." The walk started out with raincoats donned and umbrellas in their protective positions but very quickly turned into a warm, sunny afternoon, perfect for a walk in such a gorgeous park. we walked past the fountain described by Virginia Woolf in "Mrs. Dalloway" (which I will be reading by the end of this trip) and then past the zoo (eee!! i saw Pumba!) and then over to Primrose Hill (typical adorable English town) and saw the house where William Butler Yeats lived (later to be inhabited by Sylvia Plath and the very house in which she committed suicide.) in every house where a famous Brit lived the historic society has posted a "blue dot" with the persons name to signify its relevance. apparently there are even walking tours that take you to all the blue dots. This one showed that Yeats had lived there but apparently England has a very serious issue with suicide and in an effort to deter people from glorifying the terrible act, they do not broadcast suicides on the news and did not include Plath's residency at the house. we then climbed to the top of Primrose Hill for the most beautiful view of the London skyline and where my camera promptly lost batteries. exxxxcellent.

we then split off into "the group that wanted to see a neat little secret-ish garden in the park" and "the group that was too tired and hungry to join them." i think you can guess which group I was in, and if you can't it starts with a "potato wedges" and ends with a "green beans and a hard-boiled egg." after dinner I then made what was to become the unfortunate decision to go with half the group back to Leicester Square to the jumbo movie theater to see "The Prince of Persia." it cost 14pounds (about $22), we sat in cramped seats lined with cheetah print, and munched on overpriced candy that quickly caused minor to elevated cases of "need to go to the bathroom NOW!" not to mention, it was starring british and american caucasian actors with english accents playing persians. how awkard. i would consider this one of the top 10 worst movies of all time. do not, under any circumstances, attempt to make any effort to see this movie. even if it's free, do not watch it. even if it's for CHARITY, don't even try. it was the worst. thanks a lot, Walt Disney, for the worst 2 hours of my life. what i would give to have been in the group that stayed.

so all in all the day was a little more tame than yesterday. and look, ma, 2 days without alcohol! woahhh. i should also mention that i made my first clothing purchase: a regent's college long-sleeved polo! for only 3pounds75p. gooooood shit :)

cheers! and goodnight, CK.