The Week in Review

I think the Earth must slow down a little bit when it’s daytime in England, because I could swear time doesn’t move as quickly here (yet) as it does back home. And then, I check my blog and realize that it’s already been a week since I last wrote. Funny how that happens.

Thursday began with Psychology of the Self, a small seminar that I was on the wait list for. The material looks interesting, although like almost all of my seminars, it involves a 10-15 minute class presentation. This isn’t exactly what I signed up for, but I suppose it’s the trade off for not having so many hours in the classroom. As I’ve described, the professors here are an interesting cast of characters, and after Tuesday, I was half expecting a Gandalf-look alike. Instead, the lecturer/tutor/professor (I haven’t exactly figured out what I’m supposed to call them yet) looks like he stepped out of That ‘70s Show. Unfortunately, he wasn’t accompanied by any of my favorite characters, or even a laugh track. Somehow, I managed to overcome my disappointment and pay attention when he offhandedly mentioned how one’s nationality becomes more salient in a foreign country, as he pointedly stared at the corner the other exchange students and I were huddled in. I wouldn’t know anything about that, would I?

That afternoon, I had my Transformation of Contemporary Europe seminar (try saying that three times fast), where I signed up for yet another presentation. It looks like I’m going to be an experienced public speaker at the end of this term whether I like it or not. We talked about the Cold War for most of the hour, and if I thought it was awkward being an American on Wednesday, I clearly hadn’t read the syllabus for this class. All we discussed was America’s status as a superpower, American perceptions of the Cold War, American policy during the Cold War, American aims for the Cold War…I don’t think any of my classmates were actually staring at me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were. The students that did join in the discussion generally made more or less accurate statements (ex. “The American public felt this way during the Cold War…”) but I disagreed with them over tiny details (“No, I think at the time, we felt…”), and I couldn’t decide whether or not to raise my hand. To be fair, the students who participated had a good grasp of American politics and history, and far more knowledge than I do about the UK during the Cold War. But I wasn’t sure if my opinion was more “correct” than theirs, I didn’t want my word to be taken as fact just because of my background, I didn’t want to be annoying, and most of all, I didn’t want to be “wrong!” Soooo, I decided I’ll participate next week (this week). Really, I mean it, I will!

That night, I attended the first gathering of the “We Love 80s Hollywood” society. There wasn’t a very high turnout, but I chatted with the president and my subconscious got plenty of new material for future nightmares thanks to the movie Labyrinth. Goblins + never ending staircases + David Bowie in really tight pants = AUGH!

Friday, I went to a family psychology class, but as it turns out, I got into the other psychology class, so I didn’t need to drag myself there after all. It’s ok, it’s not like I enjoy sleeping in or anything like that…

I had lunch with a really nice girl on my floor and her friends. All of them are delightful and also exchange students, two from Italy, one from Germany. They’ve been here since September and have been so helpful in making me feel more comfortable here at Sussex. Broken Shoe and Mold in the Fridge (you know who you are!) will be happy to hear that I am continuing our tradition of party crashing, because I was invited to join them at their friend’s birthday party later that evening. A few hours later, we went into Brighton, shopped for a present, and after getting a little turned around (apparently my ability to get lost infects those around me), we made it to the party. Half a second was all it took for me to realize that I wasn’t at a Wash. U. party, because when I walked in, I saw a table full of food. Not just chips and Oreos, but a potato dish, an egg dish, Spanish ham, fancy cheese on toothpicks…I could have sworn I was at one of Village East/Greenway’s famous Friday night potlucks. There was definitely no need for a late night run to Bear’s Den. It was a fantastic evening, and a big improvement over last week, which you might remember found me computer-less, internet-less and chasing spiders. Good times.

I never, ever, in a million years thought I would write this, but here I go: on Saturday, I think I did too much shopping. I left for Brighton in the early afternoon, and by the time I got back, it was dark. I am completely befuddled by how much stuff I need to be set up here. Dishes, a hair dryer, food, baking supplies, a clock, nice black boots (don’t laugh, it might not actually be a necessity, but almost everyone here wears them every day, it’s practically a uniform)…It never ends, and it will still take me a few trips before I am 100% established. This is also the momentous day that I first made it to the fitness center on campus (and by on campus, I mean a great distance made perilous by the slushy, half-melted snow, muddy ground and construction projects). We’ll see how long I’m motivated to keep that up!

Sunday was fairly uneventful, and I passed most of the day obsessing over how much reading I have to do, while simultaneously NOT doing the reading. I’m just really talented like that.

Monday, the cycle started all over again. For those of you interested in the minute details of my life (and really, why wouldn’t you be?), I succeeded in doing laundry. The only problem with that was that most of the dryers were broken, so I had to bring all of the wet clothes back to my dorm and air dry them. Well, in my cell, er, room, there’s not even a hook for my towel, never mind anywhere to hang wet laundry. So, I decided to spread everything (and yes, I do mean everything) out on my bed and let it dry there. I proceeded to forget about it and, as is my habit in the evening, I propped open my door in an attempt socialize with my floor’s other inhabitants. A few hours later, I was chatting with my next-door neighbor, and I noticed he kept glancing towards my bed. I then remembered my drying laundry. I’m pretty sure the phrase “beet red” was coined specifically to describe my face at that moment. My floor now knows a lot more about me than they did before…

Tonight, yesterday, whatever you want to call it, it was my friend’s birthday, and we went with a big group into Brighton to celebrate. It was fun, although combined with an earlier trip into town to buy her present, I’ve spent far too much time on buses today, even cool double-decker ones. I’ve also spent far too much time awake today, so I’m off to remedy that. Good night, good afternoon, good “insert time of day here” to you all!