My mother done raised me good. I like to think I am well mannered, considerate, and polite. Well, no more! I am sick and tired of these idiotic twits (yes, I know that's redundant) who don't look where they're walking, and don't appear to particularly care. I've spent the last month dodging them on the sidewalks, in hallways, and on stairs. No one walks to the left - or the right! So my mission in November is to start knocking some sense into these Gumbies!

Here's fair warning London: If you see me coming, get out of the way. If you're walking in front of me, don't stop short without looking. If you're window shopping, don't walk in the middle of the sidewalk. If you're on the stairs, stay to the left. If you're coming out a door, stop and look before stepping onto the sidewalk. If you're walking, jogging, running, crawling, biking, dragging, rolling, sauntering, or gambolling, stay in a straight line.

Stray from any of these rules and I will knock you down. Even hint that you're going to stray from these rules and I will knock you down. If your kids do it, I will knock you down. It's your fault they don't know any better. Do it to someone else, and I just might knock you down on principle. I am not going to turn sideways so you and your two friends can take up a sidewalk wide enough for 6 people. I will knock all of you down. If I am not turning sideways for three of you, you best not try it when you're alone. And you! On the bike. Do you know the meaning of "forearm shiver?" Then call me Noah Webster.

Know where your umbrella is at all times. If it comes near my face, I will rip it from your hands and throw it under a bus. If it pokes me in the ribs, I will rip it from your hands and throw it under a bus. If it comes in contact with any particulary vulnerable portion of my anatomy, I will rip it from your hands, beat you with it, and then throw it under a bus.

This is your one, and only, warning. Yield is what you get from an investment. I am bigger than you. I am stronger than you. I have elbows, and I know how to use them. I don't discriminate on the basis of gender, religion, or national origin. If you're looking to eat some concrete soufflÈ, lunch is on me. You're just being inconsiderate; I'm going to be mean.

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Isn't this lovely? When I left for school this morning it was 36 degrees, while back in Connecticut - at 3 in the morning - it was 66! It's been like this for about 10 days.

Each day last week very little of note happened, so I kept putting off adding an entry, until I got enough to make it worthwhile. Bad move. It never rains, but it pours. But we'll get back to that. This one could be long.

The highlight of my Wednesday was stopping at a newsstand to inquire how much for yesterday's New York Times. £4.50. Not $1.50, not $4.50, Four Pounds Fifty Pence! That's about $7.50 in real money. But the Sunday paper is a deal. Only £7.50 ($12.50). And you can't get it until Monday. I'm sticking with the internet.

Thursday is my day off, so I went to the Docklands to see a demonstration of the new Apple operating system. It was a very interesting ride on the bus. I never knew that Westminster went so far North. I went through about 3 distinct neigbourhoods, each a little different. Of course, a little more upscale the closer you were to the Thames. But I think if they continue to develop the Docklands there's a lot of money to be made by investing in the better buildings now. Almost all the newspapers have moved there from Fleet Street, and a lot of financial companies (Citigroup, anyone?) are going, too.

I passed this strange and ugly structure. At first I thought it was a football stadium with one of those suspended fabric roofs. It looked like a poor execution of simulating those giant dock cranes as supports to hold the roof up. I saw it again on the way back, and figured it out. It was the Millennium Dome. I thought they tore it down, but they're trying to sell it, instead.

It turns out they only had one Apple "Panther" demo and it was at 10:30. I got there at noon. But the guy at the Apple booth said I didn't miss much because they wouldn't allow him to show the actual system. He only had a slideshow. And he did have some helpful hints for me.

I took the bus back, and hopped off in the middle of town at a Boot's to pick up some cough syrup. During the five minutes I was in the store it went from bright sunshine to sprinkles. I originally planned to take the bus to the Borough (that's "borrow" as I was so rudely corrected by a Tube employee) Station and walk the few blocks home. But because of the sprinkles I thought I should change at London Bridge and take the bus that goes right to my door.

As soon as I stepped off the bus it started to pour. There were about 12 of us huddled under the bus shelter, trying to stay out of the rain, but the wind was blowing so hard off the river that it was basically raining horizontally. After a few minutes I started chuckling to myself, because the lot of us looked like a flock of pigeons trying to get shelter under the eaves. The bus came about ten minutes later, and it was still raining when I got home - though not that hard. I actually made the right choice.

On Friday I had my first class for my internship/project. All of a sudden he starts talking about "submitting it early in September." What? Everything I read said that this was due in the Summer term, which ends in early July. And then he talks about exams in May. Again, what? Classes end in early March. I checked with the department manager, and she confirmed that they really do have a loose interpretation of the academic calendar around here. I explained that my housing only goes until July. She said that they wait until they have assigned the internships, so that no one needs to commute 20 miles if their company is outside of town. This just gets more bizarre...

Saturday was very quiet, so on Sunday I decided I would take a trip up to Oxford Circus to get a cable. As usual, I hopped on the 1 bus which takes me to school, and then keeps going to Holborn and Oxford. We went two stops and the driver called End Of The Line. At Elephant and Castle. There was the 188 right there, which covers almost the exact same route, so I grabbed that one, but it was only going to Waterloo Station. I figured I'd get another one there. But he stopped at Old Vic and tossed us off - one stop short. I asked what the deal was, and he said there's a big demonstration at Aldwych and the buses can't go over the bridge.

So I walked to Waterloo and crossed the bridge on foot. That's when I noticed the helicopter hovering over the city. Not moving, just hovering. It was (of course) a police helicopter. At about halfway across I began to hear the whistles blowing. I looked down to Victoria Embankment (the north shore) and I could see the beginning of a huge throng of people. I crossed over and looked down, and there was a mass of humanity that was 3 or 4 lanes wide and easily a mile long. Now that's a demonstration!

It was a protest against "Top Off Fees" for University students. I remembered seeing posters for it, but since I'm paying my own way, I didn't really see that I had a dog in that fight. It took nearly a half hour for everyone to pass under the bridge. They were there from Bristol, Oxford, Kings College, LSE, Bath, Kent, and Coventry. From as far South as Falmouth and North as Edinburgh. There were also the University Professors and the British Medical Association. Besides the sheer size of the protest, it was especially entertaining to see thousands of people carrying professionally printed signs that read (and I'm not editing) "F*** Fees!" They may not be refined, but they do get the message across. I also like the giant banner that was a check for £177,000,000 made out to "Her Majesty's Royal Slush Fund."

I asked one of the cops how he'd rate this demonstration. He said it was actually smaller than average. I mentioned the upcoming visit by W. in November, and he said that's going to be enormous. He'd already had his leave cancelled for the month. I can't wait to see it!

I got walking again, figuring I could catch the first bus after Aldwych. But then I realized that it wasn't far to Holborn and Oxford, so I just hoofed it. I crossed onto New Oxford and just window shopped. There are scads of stores running block after block (after block). I stopped into a Jessop's (camera store) to see how much developing was. They wanted £11 for single prints! And another £8 for a CD. I'm going to Boot's. Or wait until December.

My target was actually the authorized Apple dealer (to see that new Panther operating system) but they were closed. So I kept walking. I took a diversion to check out Soho Square Park, with the ancient little house in the middle (http://www.urban75.org/vista/soho.html for a panoramic view), then went back to Oxford. I passed New Bond Street, and I knew I'd been there or heard of it before, but couldn't figure out why. Just up the street was the John Lewis department store, which had my cable. Oddly enough, that's the name of Jon Ryan's best friend. Even odder, when we were here two years ago, we connected to Oxford Street just a couple blocks past the store, so he never noticed it.

I thought about walking to Westminster and catching the bus from there, but I looked at my watch and I had already been walking for 5 hours and it was dark. So I grabbed the 13 bus - one of the last old hop-on, hop-offs with the door and stairs at the back - and went back to Aldwych. I walked across Waterloo so I could see Westminster, The Wheel, Charing Cross, and the rail bridge all lighted, then hopped on the bus home. That's when I realized I forgot to set my watch back, so I "only" walked for about 4 1/2 hours. It was over 4 miles. I am going to ruin my reputation.

Once I got home I remembered what I knew about New Bond Street. That's the address for Norton in Worcester (MA). I finished up by going to see Matrix:Reloaded on the wide screen in the TV room at 8:30. That's another two hours I'll never get back.

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Today's highlight was the trip to the Supermarket. I'm trying to keep it to once a week, but it's a tough balance between minimal trips and maximum lading. I think the maximum load capacity of my hands is no more than four 2-litre bottles of any kind. The rest just pales in comparison. The trick is to carry as much as possible without dislocating a shoulder or causing permanent damage to the fingers' blood flow. And, mattering the time, not getting killed by the rest of the passengers when you hop on the bus with 45 pounds (20 kilos) of groceries.

I'm still fascinated - no, make that amazed - by what passes for food over here. First, there's all that stuff they cram into pie shells and call "home cooking." If I got served this stuff at home, I'd have run away by the time I was four. Any manner of meat or meat by-product baked under a pastry along with potatoes is a gourmet treat. And the worst one's always have a quaint name instead of the ingredients. Shepard's pie is just another way of saying, "mom didn't feel like cooking." And Cottage pie is it's poor relative. At least Steak and Kidney pie tells you right up front.

I can't put it any better than "The Real Man's Cookbook" (W.J. Rayment, 2000): "Meat pies seem to me to be typically English. The English will make a pie out of almost anything, even cuts of meat that you would only consider if you had survived a plane crash in the Andes and the flight attendants had all been wiped out."

Today I discovered the canned goods section. There's the usual canned hams, canned pork, canned tuna, canned spaghetti and meatballs, but who in the world cans hot dogs? Besides the British, that is. They pickle them and put 'em in jars, too. Or how about minced beef (hamburger) in a can? I think a lot of this stuff is still left over from WWII and they're just trying to get rid of the last of it. And there only seem to be about 4 different kinds of beans. Baked, kidney, pinto and white. No red beans, no black beans, no light or dark kidney beans, no pea beans, no navy beans... just baked, kidney and the other two. Now, there are 53 ways to get your baked beans. In brown sugar, in vinegar, in tomato sauce, just plain "baked," and others that were so upsetting I've blotted them from my memory. I'm starting to understand why the English are such a slight people.

On the other hand, these people know how to make biscuits! No, I'm not talking something you use to mop up gravy, I'm talking cookies. There's not a great variety of them (I've yet to see a box of Oreos or graham crackers), but what they have are so good. An easy one is the Cadbury Fingers. A light, thin biscuit dipped in milk chocolate (and now white, dark , and "marble," too). I know what you're thinking, but even if it is the British, "Fingers" is just a brand name. Then there's the ginger nuts, or what we'd call a ginger snap. These bad boys bite back. Even the cheapo Tesco brand (26p/pkg) are great. I actually like them better than the McVittie's. And speaking of McVittie's, there's the fabulous Hob Nobs. "Nobbly, Oaty Biscuits." Think of the best oatmeal cookie you've ever tasted. Now give it the texture of actual oatmeal. Then press it into a cookie that crumbles in your mouth when you bite it. This is even better. And the Cost Cutter has them for half price. I'm stocking up (I have six on the shelf right now).

As far as the four basic food groups (fat, beer, potatoes, and salt), they do a decent job. I'm not crazy about English beer. It's not warm - though it's not ice cold either. It's usually very tasty, but it just doesn't have enough fizz to it. I don't like flat soda, I don't like flat beer. You can achieve authentic results yourself by opening a can of your favorite, put it back in the fridge for 12 to 24 hours, and then drink it. As for the other three, they have Walker's (!) crisps (chips) here. Since it uses the exact same logos, colors, and type font as Lay's, I'm gonna guess that they are owned by Frito-Lay, and Walker's is just a local name that they bought. So the quality is good. Except for those flavours. Anybody want a bag of Prawn flavoured crisps? How about Heinz Ketchup? There's always Chicken Masala or just plain Beef. At least they've got Plain Salted and Salt & Vinegar. Malted vinegar. Tasty. Mmmmmm, chips.

No one's come up with either of the last two trivia questions, so I'll offer a reward. The first one to get them right gets a six-pack of the different flavored crisps for Christmas!

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Sunday was another of those days that surprises you when you're done. I started off going to the Library, hoping to find a book I needed for my "Prey-Predator Model" simulation. Of course, it wasn't there. Nor were any of the other books on the reading list. So I thought I would go to Picadilly to see if the Waterstones over there had a (different) text book that I need.

Of course, they didn't. And their network was down so they couldn't check any other locations ("this happens a lot on Sundays" ??). Since I was in Picadilly, I took a walk around. I went into both Tower and Virgin records, to see if they had anything I like on sale. They didn't, and I also didn't like their idea of a "sale" price. These pirates charge £12.99 for a CD that's ON SALE!! The regular prices are £17 to £18! That's nearly $30 a CD! I think I'll start downloading from iTunes. 99¢ a song. $10.99 for albums.

With my hand firmly clutching my wallet I headed out, and decided to mosey on down to Leicester Square. It was busy enough for a Sunday afternoon. Everything was open, including the biggest Pret A Manger I've ever seen. McDonald's had cheeseburgers for only 69 pence, but once you added fries and a drink it was almost 4 bucks. I'll wait until I'm feeling flush and get a Filet-O-Fish meal. I walked through and was going to grab a bus home, and then thought that I should go over to Covent Gardens, since I was so close.

On the way I found another Waterstones, but got the same answer as the first. When I got to Covent Gardens, besides the usual assortment of pickpocket diversions, I mean, street artists, not much else was going on. There was some guy doing the usual baton tossing, a clown for the kiddies, and some 55 year old guy trying to look like a young Charlie Chaplin. He wasn't very successful. Every shop was open, including Disney, but not much was happening. The other times I've been there it seemed like there was so much to do, but this time it felt kinda empty and cheesy. That's what Leicester Square felt like, too. Maybe my expectations are too high. Maybe I want to think like a local?

Covent Gardens is actually just a few blocks from Aldwych, so I hiked over there to catch the bus home. There wasn't one coming, so I started walking. I ended up crossing Waterloo Bridge before one came. It was a really nice walk, except the wind comes screaming down the Thames. I had to hang on to my hat to keep it from blowing off. There's a giant IMAX Theatre right in the middle of the Waterloo Circus. They're showing Matrix:Reloaded, which sounds pretty cool in IMAX. But they want 17 bucks. Do you get a free CD with that?

Once I got home I went to do my shopping. Did you know that Tesco's is only open until 5 on Sundays? I found that out at 5:20. So I walked home. So the days total was the usual 3/8 of a mile to the bus, it's about a mile from Picadilly to Covent Gardens, and at least another half mile to Waterloo. And then the 3/8 mile back home, and the mile back from Tesco's. I need to be careful. All this walking may become a habit. Just think what it could do to my image.

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I guess you could call this the Sociability Weekend. Tonight was a hall-sponsored party at the bar. I really like the fact that there's a bar built-in at the hall. And it's only available to the residents or their guests. How wonderfully undemocratic. And since tonight was a sponsored event, the beer was subsidised. At least for the first couple of hours. My tax dollars at work! (there's a £10 social fee for the year). I went down about 9:30 and knew absolutely no one. There was one woman that I had seen on the bus, but that was it. No one from my floor was there, despite everyone talking about it for the last two days. At about 9:45 someone from my classes did show up, but it was obvious neither knew each other's name. Still, we had a nice chat.

A few minutes later Laurent, from next door to me, did show up, and we had a good time talking, or more precisely shouting. I bailed at 11:30 and my ears are ringing! I spent more than my share of time in bars when I was younger (ask the guys who own Elmer's how they can afford the boat), and I never left the bar with my ears ringing. At least not from the music. On the other hand the music was pretty good. Besides the current stuff that I wouldn't recognize if the band was playing live with a 30 foot banner with their name on it behind them, they played some Tom Jones, The Monkees, a Bananarama remake of Shocking Blue (there's our trivia question for the day!), Patti Labelle, and Barry White. Hands down, the dumbest guy in the building was the one who literally had to be dragged onto the dance floor by a girl when they played Barry White. This guy has middle-level civil servant written all over him.

Last night was the OR Department welcoming party. It was held in one of the classrooms at Kingsway, and there was wine and beer and some good food from Marks and Spencer. Some strange sausages, some unidentifiable stuff in little rolled pastries or rolled into balls and deep fried, cheese and crackers, and some pitas and dips. The hummus was quite good. Lots of garlic. The funny thing was that everyone broke into little groups of people they already knew from class. I was there with the other "old" guy, the woman from Vancouver, and a guy from Minnesota. We're all in classes together. And the next to join our group was from Indiana. The two Midwesterners are in the Decision Science major. Later I was talking to someone else - a local - and I swear he's exactly what Terry Thomas must have been like in his twenties. The broad laugh, the strange emphasis and broadening of certain words, and the head rolled back guffawing.

One other thing I picked up on at this party is that there are far too many and far too disparate English accents. As soon as you've attuned yourself to understand one person, another comes along that speaks completely differently. Most difficult to keep up with. Although they have no problem understanding each other. Now, I'm able to tell the minor differences between my use, that of the guy from Minnesota, and the woman from Vancouver. But it was mostly in the phrases or addition/subtraction of certain words. I'm willing to bet we sound exactly alike to most of the Brits. But these guys speak completely differently.

Thursday was probably the most enjoyable night. It became an impromptu group meal. It started when I could smell something burning in the kitchen. My first thought was something in the oven was cooking off the bottom. When it got a little stronger I thought somebody had burned their toast. When it got even stronger I figured I might want to take a look. It turns out that Eigunn, from Norway, was cooking some pasta for herself and her friend Benta, also Norwegian, and actually burned it. She let all the water boil off. I was afraid the smoke detector in the hall would go off. But then I saw the smoke in the kitchen! The fan was on, the windows were opened, we just had to wait it out.

Since I was there, I threw a pizza in the oven (half-price at Cost Cutter!) for my dinner. Eigunn switched to microwave popcorn. As we were chatting, Can (pronounced "czohn") from Turkey came in to cook his dinner. Then Laurent from France showed up, and finally Lisha from India (Yuko from Japan and Kelly (Yu) from China weren't around, apparently). We all sat around and talked until after midnight. It turns out that Lisha is dating someone from Norway, so she demonstrated her knowledge of Norwegian profanity. While Eigunn was impressed (and Benta embarrassed), she thought we should all learn some more Norwegian. She tried to teach us some phrases that would be "very useful" at school. Benta was even more embarrassed. It was a nice evening of "bonding." We all said that we would be at the party on Saturday. All six of us. Lemme count: me, Laurent, um.. yep that makes six doesn't it? Laurent and I are planning to harass a few people.

I also had a quick chat with Audrey on Friday morning, while she was on the air. She comes on when I'm getting ready to leave in the morning. She was hoping to put me on the air, but as I promised, once she heard my laryngitis she thought otherwise. Her partner seemed quite impressed that I called. Maybe I'll try to make it a weekly event. I can call in with the London weather and the cricket results. We'll have half the greater Greencastle metropolitan area listening. Or maybe they both already are...

To repeat today's trivia: What was the Bananarama cover of the Shocking Blue song? The winner gets a copy of the 45. If I can ever find it in all my old stuff.
Still no winner on the last question (see "Hunting Wabbits").

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As I said, if you like headless Greek or Roman statues, it just doesn't get any better than the British Museum. It's like a pre-Columbian "Alice's Restaurant." Not only can you get almost anything you want, but each piece of priceless heritage recovered from some 3,000 year old garbage pile has it's own card with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was. Well, the front, or else you couldn't very well read it. There had to be 20 or 30 of these dismembered statues. And another 20 or so heads that didn't match up with any of them. Some of them looked like they were being held together with duct tape. The odd part, to me, was that none of them seemed to be of any historical or cultural significance in their age.

The objects in the oriental rooms were in much better shape than the others. Almost everything was intact. There was a display of porcelain funeral attendants, complete with a pair of camels. Looked like a set of Han Dynasty garden gnomes. But the glazing on them was quite impressive. A much broader range of colors than any other culture. Then I moved to Japan, where I learned that lacquer comes from the sap of the lac tree. And that it was possibly the world's first plastic. I guess it's sort of an oriental Bakelite. And then there were the Buddhas: laughing Buddhas, sitting Buddhas, standing Buddhas, Chinese, Thai, Mongolian, Tibetan, Khmer, Korean, and at least 3 different Indian Buddhas. And there must have been a minimum of 5 or 6 of each of them. There was also the assortment of daggers, coins, and buttons that are required for any display to meet British Museum quality standards.

They also had some glass objects which were attractive. There was one that looked like a giant 18 inches (45cm) tall, 12 inch (30cm) wide pedestal candy dish. It had an opalescent finish with a wide green stripe running through it, and I thought it especially nice. But when I came for a closer look I saw that it wasn't opalescent, but actually clear. What I was really seeing was a thin film of grime that, apparently, no one has cleaned in a decade or two. You know that "lovely" set of wine glasses your mother-in-law gave you that you parked in the back of the top shelf in the basement cupboard? The ones you take out every five or so years when she comes for the holidays? That's the film I'm talking about.

On the other hand, the Middle Eastern exhibit they had a great sign hung up that explained the skill and craftsmanship of the Cypriot glass blowers. How they invented many of the techniques still used today, and how they would add different minerals to alter the color of the glass (like cobalt). And they put this sign in the middle of a display of ancient Near East pottery.

I'm not trying to sound completely critical, as I did enjoy some of the exhibitions. There was a collection of clocks and watches that was very nice, and the first two or three of almost everything was interesting. And I learned that Islamic art does not use images of people. Instead they use Arabic words woven into the image to convey their message. And the tiles were unbelievable. They had a big temporary collection of etchings from London's past. The most impressive was a wide (10 or 12 feet?) view of the North bank of the Thames. There was only one bridge (which looked like it was falling down!), and a lot of the current buildings were already there. The oddest one to me was the steeple of St. Mary le Strand towering over the neighbourhood. I see it every day right next to the school. It's this little chapel that all the neighbouring buildings tower over. I was going to buy the poster, but I thought £45 a bit steep (that's not a typo - forty five pounds!).

I really liked the exhibit of Tibetan paintings. I think they painted on silk (or another very nice fabric) which was draped from a horizontal rod, and framed with contrasting fabric. There were paintings of lots of different gods. I saw a "Bod" painting. The sign said that this was a relatively new recognition of a small sect's artwork. Until recently it was usually considered Tibetan. But there was something about this Bod painting that bothered me. So I doubled back, and sure enough, there was a Tibetan painting of the exact same god doing the exact same thing with his concubine (trust me, it wasn't hard to figure this out), but with a different name. So the question becomes, were they joking about the Bod paintings, or is the guy writing the signs too dim to recognize what he's writing about, even when it's right under his very nose?

The final disappointment (insult?) was when I got to the Americas exhibit. I was really looking forward to seeing what they would have from the Aztecs or Toltecs ( or Mayans, Incas, Miztec, Zapotec, Moche, Quitus, Cannaris...), but when I got there, the rooms were closed! There was no explanation, but on the way out there was a collection of people staging "restoration" work on a totem pole for some photographers. So I wasn't exactly charmed by that operation.

But the building is beautiful. It's got that classic look of the large London "house," like Somerset. It's square and about 4 stories tall, with a large fenced courtyard in front with stone benches running 30 or 40 feet to each side. These were very popular in the lunchtime sun. The inner courtyard is now covered by a large glass paneled dome. In the center is a large stone cylinder at least 50 feet in diameter. This has shops at the bottom and a restaurant at the top. It's also the Museum Reading Room. Despite the modern appearance of the outside, inside it's mostly wood paneling and stacks, with a wooden dome ceiling like a cathedral, and a large skylight at the top.

I walked around the neighborhood after I got out. It was a nice mix of restaurants, small shops, and professional offices. I decided to walk back to Aldwych instead of hopping right back onto the bus. Kingsway - the street where you find the OR building - is a nice straight boulevard with a lot of shops, restaurants, and bars ("Biere"!). The weather was great, I cranked up the iPod and had a nice stroll back to school where I hopped on the bus home.

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Enough people suggested it, so I went to the British Museum today. Unlike everywhere else, it actually was closer than it looked, and it wasn't as far as it seemed. It turns out it's only about a mile from school.

I think the museum's motto is "We spared no effort pillaging ancient civilizations of their irreplaceable treasures." They have a expansive array of broken tablets, pottery shards, broken pieces of pottery shards, swords corroded in their sheaths, corroded sheaths without swords, headless statues, and statueless heads. There's no way they can have much storage space. What would they keep there? "This is the dust from the floor of Tutankhamen's crypt." Wait, I think I saw that.

Once you wade through all of that, there are some interesting things. There's the reasonably intact crypt/temple that looks like a 30-foot tall relative of the Parthenon. Inside the museum. They've got more coins than you can shake a stick at. And some old sticks used to shake at coins. They even have some out with some staff to allow a "Hands On" experience. That's a nice touch. Of course they only have about 5 or 6 of those hands on places, and they all had coins.

Then there's the "Celtic Europe" collection. For a country that pillaged the Irish so thoroughly, you'd think they'd have a few more items on display. There's a case of daggers (no subtle message there), and a big flat stone with carving on it. They talk about the Latin inscription on it, probably from the Romans (you think?), and a few other tidbits. Oh yeah, they also make mention of "some ogam [sic]." You can't see anything clearly on this stone except the ogham! Up one side, down the other. Lines everywhere. They pretty well trashed the Vikings, too. But then, the Vikings did a good job of that to them. At least the Vikings got more than one display case.

And boy, you just can't get enough Assyrian friezes! They've got more linear feet of Assyrian friezes than was covered in "Hands Across America." Well, maybe that's a bad comparison, but you know what I'm saying. Block after block embedded into the wall. "This shows the King rewarding his Army for their Victory. Note the severed head in the soldier's hand" "This depicts the King celebrating with his Army. The soldier closest to him has the heads of multiple victims in his hand." "This is a picture of the King with a Bow and the severed heads of his enemies." A regular laugh-riot, those Assyrians. But they did have the cool helmets.

One thing I really did enjoy was the Rosetta Stone. Considering it's really just a rock with writing inscribed on it, that doesn't sound so impressive. But I liked it's ancient "multi-culturalism." They carved the same decree for the preists of Memphis in three languages: Hieroglyphs, Egyptian, and Greek. And part of what it says is that all three languages say the same thing. Which is what made it so important. It was the first time anybody had a direct comparison to the hieroglyphics to translate. It's also a pretty handsome piece of gray basalt. It was first pillaged by Napoleon in 1799, but he lost it to the Brits (with more than a little help from the Turks) before he ever took it to France. ("What's that symbol, Clarke?" "I'm not sure, I think it says it's a 'Surrender Monkey'")

I could go on and on. In fact, I already have. But since tomorrow will probably be a slow day, I'll wait to finish my visit to the museum. That'll tank the readership.

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I know I am where I am supposed to be. There are a new crop of advertisements on the buses this week. Never mind that every third bus has a full length ad for all the Coke products on it - from Diet Coke to Fanta to Lilt. There's a different ad that told me I'm home: "Freeze Me! Microwave Me! Bite Me! - Bite Me brand snacks." It's like they new I was coming...

On the other hand I got an email from the OR department. It lists different students and the courses they are exempted or excluded from. I'm told I'm excluded(!) from Accounting and Economics courses! Well! I never! Truth be told, I have. And far too many times. That's why I'm excluded. All it really means is that I've taken enough courses in both those subjects that they don't believe it would be a true academic test for me. They think these would be "gut" courses, just inflating my grades. Like there's something wrong with that. It's just an interesting way to put it. But I can take the IS and Management courses. Since I haven't taken any IS and few courses actually named "Management," I'm allowed. Never mind more than a decade of practical IS experience and two (count'em: 2) Management degrees.

Classes are improving. Along with the lectures we take "applied" courses. Stats, OR, Mathematical Programming, Problem Structuring, Simulation... The applied classes are much more productive. The stats are slowly coming back, and it's more about learning what to use as opposed to solving anything. When I hear Chi-squared, t-score, or even Z(ed)-score, I no longer want to run screaming from the room. I approached a couple of instructors today because I could see that one of my biggest obstacles is that their curriculum is almost exclusively about how to apply these math skills to solving a problem. I, on the other hand, have enough experience to know how to approach the problem. I lack knowing what (and which) math to throw at it. When I talked to the Simulation teacher, I told him that I wasn't sure if I could complete the first assignment on time because it would take me more than three days to (re)learn how to do Differential Equations. He said don't worry, that's not important. Just use alternative formulas in your spreadsheets. I asked, "Brute Force method?" "Exactly." And one of the reasons I came here was I was tired of using Brute Force all the time.

And I lost 40 minutes out of my life I'll never get back. I got out of my next-to-last class, saw that my last class was one of the Econ sub-classes (which I am officially excluded from), and realized my day was over. Woo-hoo! I hopped on the bus for home, got off at Bartholomew Street and started walking. It was windy, so I brushed the hair out of my face and realized... I left my hat in one of the classrooms. I turned around, got the bus back to school (after watching 2 pass by as I was walking to the stop), tracked it down (still there!), got back on the bus... yada, yada, yada. At least I got the hat. Finding caps with Q's on them isn't easy.

And I'm on my way to being destitute. I paid part of my fees today. But I needed help filling out the check. You don't use fractions, and you write "Twenty One Pounds Eleven Pence" all in words. I still don't really understand why I had to make it out to "Gwynn Betherswaite" instead of LSE.

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Well, I thought today was such a nothing day that I wouldn't post. I got hammered by my cold. I slept from 10 PM to 12 Noon. I woke around 4, and got back to sleep about 5. 13. Count 'em. 13 hours. The highlight was laundry and cleaning. The only thing I could think about writing was that you can't get full-size bags of potato chips (aka "crisps"). You have to buy big bags full of little bags. Wow. Another Hemingway. Or at least another Andy Rooney.

But just when you begin to lose hope... I've been listening to Virgin Radio. Good tunes. Good mix. Everything from The Doors, to Sheryl Crow, to Foo Fighters, to The Clash (London Calling!). Even Elvis. That sorta caught me off guard. Then I listened closer. Somebody remixed "Viva Las Vegas." And it's good! They kept the Elvis vocals intact, and added a new arrangement. Too cool.

And the really scary part is the only thing I'm taking for the cold is ibuprofen.

Bonus for the doubters amongst you:
http://www.doonesbury.com/strip/dailydose/index.html?uc_full_date=20021021


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Yesterday was a bit of a washout. And it didn't even rain. First I came down with a cold. But it seems to be running it's course quickly. I guess I should've expected it, since I keep finding myself in classes of 40 people and rooms designed for 25. And the Welcome Party in the bar on Tuesday didn't help, either. About 100 people stuffed into a room the size of my living room. Half of them smoking.

Well, anyhow, I woke up on Thursday thinking I didn't have to go to class. Just to be safe, I double checked the schedule. Wouldn't you know it? One of the courses had a subsidiary class on Thursday. So I started looking through more carefully. I couldn't figure out which class was required and which were elective (one of each, please). I also noticed that the Instructor who introduced the course at Induction wasn't listed on any of the classes. So I rode into town and found Dr. Read (the Instructor) to ask him. This is the guy I talked to on the phone to get some information about successful application strategies. He explained that he was only teaching one or two sessions. I asked if he was the teacher for a different course (he was) and so I chose that, instead (Advanced Behavioural Decision Making). That's on Fridays during Michaelmas (Fall), so I still get Thursday's off. I also went to the only official "Mature Students Group" meeting in the afternoon, but because I was feeling punky, I didn't stick around to go to the bar.

Today's highlight was in my Computer Science Workshop. Our subject was learning how to use Excel for Statistics (yawn). At least it was a yawn until I reached Example 4, entitled "Fibonacci Numbers." Fibo-whatzi numbers? The best explanation anyone could give me was that it was one of those "Number Series" things. Thanks, you've been a big help. The Linear Programming example was a piece of cake compared to this. Well, I ended up searching the internet until I found an explanation (http://mathworld.wolfram.com/FibonacciNumber.html). It turns out it's the sequence of numbers when you add the last two to get a new number (1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21...). But they say it's quite useful. I'll have to take their word for it.

On the operational side, I got my bank account opened. I'm trying to get some money into it, and I got checks and a bank card (which I picked up at the branch). Of course, until the money gets here, they really aren't much use. And I can't use the card at an ATM until they mail me my PIN. They don't include it with the card. Or I can have it sent to the branch to pick up there. But they don't send it to the branch with the card. And I couldn't set my own PIN, either. I feel secure.

Tomorrow's cleaning day (oh, the thrill). So I'll do laundry and vacuum. I was hoping to watch the baseball playoffs on TV, but since the Rugby World Cup started today, I don't think they'll be anything but that on all the sports stations (England's the favorite). Maybe I'll watch Japan vs. New Zealand. When they met before Japan lost a squeaker, 174 to 17. I'll have to practice being loud and boorish (I heard that!)

Today's contest: What's that title all about, Elmer?
The winner gets all the rabbit they can eat (in one sitting).
Answer to the last contest: Spaghetti and Meatballs

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I hope I never get tired of my ride to and from school. Besides all the goings on in the neighbourhoods along the way to Waterloo, there's the trip across the river. Each day I'm amazed at what I get to do. Waterloo Bridge makes getting up every day worthwhile. Just as we make the turn for Waterloo Circus, I catch a glimpse of the London Eye between and over the buildings. The spokes are so delicate, like a gigantic bicycle wheel. I always have to stare for a few moments to see if it's moving. You can't really tell when the bus is moving, so I look for people in the glass pods. And they're always there.

Then, after we pass through the National Theatre complex, you can see Blackfriars Bridge, with the sun behind it to the East, and opposite, the view of Victoria Embankment (the north side) is beyond belief. There's the Hungerford (Waterloo) rail bridge, Cleopatra's Needle, the white stone Ministry of Defence, Charing Cross Station, and glowing gold in the morning light is Westminster, Parliament, and Saint Stephen's Tower (Big Ben). And then 30 seconds later you're in the absolute center of London. The Strand and the West End theaters on your left, the Royal Courts and Fleet Street to your right.

And to top it all off, at about 6:00 at night, I can look out my window and see the dome of St. Paul's shining in the sunset. Once it's dark it's softly lit just over the tree tops. While it will be getting dark sooner, I can look forward to an even better view of the city when the leaves fall.

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Each day you learn something new. Usually, it's how stupid you were yesterday. After only eight days of walking to the bus, I've shortened the jaunt considerably. Using the map provided by reception, I would walk about 3 blocks south, turn onto Bartholomew Street, and walk another block to New Kent Road. Then I'd go about 100 yards, cross the street (you have to cross at the light, there's a big, 6-foot wrought iron fence down the middle of the road), and walk about a quarter mile up the street. After about three days of this, I noticed some people standing opposite where Bart's ends. Maybe this was another bus stop? I investigated, and, lo and behold, it was. And for the buses that I take. I'm such a smart guy. I cut my walk from home by about a third.

Like I said, I'm such a smart guy. This morning whilst standing at the bus stop, I noticed someone coming up a staircase about 20 yards past the stop. I thought this intriguing, so I watched some more. A few other people came up the stairs. By now, I need to know what that staircase is. I happened to glance across the street - to the corner of Bartholomew St. - and noticed a structure made from the same color and finish concrete. You guessed it. It's a subway under the road. So, starting tomorrow, my daily walk to the bus will be about another 250 yards shorter. I'm so bright my mother calls me Son.

Of course, it doesn't matter how short the walk is to the bus if they don't stop. My 9:00 class doesn't start until next week, so I got out there at about 9:15. I watched as five buses refused to pick anyone up (they were "full"). Each time another bus went by, the waiting crowd grew larger. Finally, after there were at least twenty of us waiting, one came along that wasn't full. But it was after we got on! I'm not sure which is worse, the bus that stops but won't let you on, or the guy daydreaming and blowing past the stop.

The second day of class went by relatively injury free. The computer in the Stats lab didn't have a mouse, but my years of experience allowed me to use it. Not only did it allow me to avoid having to share a workstation, but it almost impressed my peers. The professor for Simulations thought that 12:55 was a good time to start distributing the notes and assignment to the class. One page at a time. Eight pages. 45 or 50 students. Luckily, 90% of the class also had to go to OR Techniques next, so we were all late, together. I think it really puzzled the OR instructor. That was the day's killer. Simultaneous Equations and Linear Programming at warp speed. I was having trouble keeping the Primals and Duals separate. Nevermind the constants, variables, coefficients, constraints, feasibility, and (everyone's favorite) the degenerates. After all that I'm going to Principles of Stats, to see if I need the review.

2 days down...

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What a difference an hour makes. I left for the bus to school at 8:20 this morning. Great Dover Street was bumper to bumper as far as the eye could see. I assume it went all the way up and over Southwark and London bridges. The tube is a lot faster, but you've got to grease up and jam your way on to a car. I'll stick with the buses. Despite the traffic, the new bus lanes really keep them moving. It's a part of the Center City traffic plan, along with the £5 a day charge for driving into the city. It only took about 15 minutes in rush hour. And 8:30 is rush hour. Nothing really starts until 9:00.

Classes began in earnest today. Which was confusing because I took the bus to Westminster... Sorry. The classes weren't as bad as I feared, but some were a little fiercesome. Mathematical Modelling wasn't too bad. It's Linear Programming, but concentrates on how to use it, not how to do the math. Applied Stats says the same thing, but we spent the better part of two hours proving that sample means (x-bar) and sample variances (s-squared) were unbiased. Of course, OR Techniques spent an hour working on the math used in Linear Programming. How lucky can I get? I'm glad I didn't take the courses with the intensive math.

A mixer for Grad Students followed my last class (Problem Structuring Methods) at 6:00. I lasted about an hour with the smoke and the music cranked up to stadium-level volume in a room the size of a 7-11. But the wine was free. It was overpriced.

You have to be careful walking around the neighborhood at school. There's a danger of someone walking in to you and scalding you with their hot coffee every twenty metres (when in Rome...). Not too much of an exaggeration. There's Starbuck's, Pret A Manger, Coffee Republic, Costa, Caffe Amici, Cafe Nero, and at least 6 more independent places. These Brit's ain't drinkin' no tea no more.

I'm gonna O.D. on Hob Nobs while I'm over here.

Today's contest: What are "Footballs and Bootlaces?" First one to email the correct answer (click on Qmail! on the right), gets an all expense paid trip from Black Horse Court to the Tesco - and all the Footballs and Bootlaces they can eat!

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Most things in the city are closer than I thought but further than they seem. I went for a long walk today. I went North on Great Dover, figuring I'd catch the bus to the city. Well, to Westminster. At least that's my understanding of what most people mean by the city, even though we're all in London. Well, actually, London is only a little tiny square mile of... forget it. When people talk about London they're really talking Metropolitan London. So anyway, I started walking bus stop to bus stop, figuring I'd catch one as it came by. But then, as I passed each block, I was more inclined to just keep walking. After about twenty minutes I found myself at Southwark Bridge. Then I walked over to London Bridge, and then along the Thames, and then about a total of 10 or 15 minutes later I was at the Tower Bridge. Like I said, closer than I thought, further than it looked.

I passed a lot of things I'd seen before, including Hays Market, the Thames boats (I want to go to the Sea Barrier one of these days), the Belfast, and the Upper Pool. Too bad for me that when I got to the Upper Pool I didn't have any eggs or paint balls. David Blaine is still doing his annoying box stunt. Talk about a waste of time and effort. Why do all these people go to see a guy in a box? And that's all it is. It's a 10x10x6 Plexiglas box hanging at about 30 feet from a crane over some now destroyed lawn. That's all, folks! It's not even suspended over the water. And for some strange reason hundreds of people are standing about, staring up at it. Sure it's a strange American up there, but it's all a bunch of silly Brits who are fascinated by it. Y'know, if I spent a month doing nothing, never leave my room, I'd end hospitalized for a manic episode. This guy's making a living at it.

It was a little raw, and the wind on the Tower Bridge was brutal. But there was no shortage of people. It was almost a solid line, 6 or 7 wide, the entire length of the bridge and the approaches. And they're always stopping short, or they're 5-wide and walking slowly. C'mon folks, I got places to be! Can't you see I'm more important than your stinkin' vacation? On the other hand, I guess I don't look like much of a tourist. Two people stopped me to ask for directions. One was a local lady walking her dog. I was absolutely no help to either of them.

I started walking toward the Strand, but got smart and grabbed a bus. It was still chilly, and as I walked down the street I realized that even though it was the same hours that I had walked in August, I was in complete shade. Back then, when it was 100 degrees, you couldn't find shade on either side of the street. Two months later, it's 45 and windy, you want the warmth of the Sun, but it's behind the tall buildings. While I knew that London was far North of Connecticut, I didn't realize what a difference that makes until today.

I spent a few minutes at Trafalgar Square, where I could sit in the sun, and then grabbed a bus back to Aldwych and then home. It's only been a week, but I'm already feeling at home. Let's see what starting classes will do to that feeling.

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I got up this morning and took a trip down to Walworth Road, which runs south from Elephant and Castle, to (finally) pick up a duvet from the Argos shop. Walworth is an intriguing collection of shops that goes for 10 or 20 blocks. It has everything from a little store that sells nothing but cell phone faceplates to a full-blown Marks & Spencer department store. Albeit an old M&S. There are hardware stores, food markets, a Boot's, a £1 store, a discount CD shop (I'm sure they only sell authentic recordings). You name it, they've got it. There's a McDonald's, a Burger King, and a Wimpy's. There's burger shops, kebab shops, burger and kebab shops, pizza joints, and chicken joints - even a real KFC.

Just as impressive is the mix of people. There are Brits, West Indian, Middle Eastern, African, Oriental, Latin American, and (at least one) North American. They're everything from buskers and down-and-out to working and middle class to the well-to-do. I know there are a number of intentionally exclusive neighbourhoods in the city, as well as some unintended, but this area is a marvellous melange of just about every stripe.

I stopped at Elephant and Castle to change buses and decided to take a look around. The first things you notice are the large entrances to the E&C Subway. It's hard to miss the Peacock Blue wrought iron elephants over the stairwells. But this isn't a train stop. It's a sub-way under the E&C circus (roundabout, carrefour, rotary). It's just too big and busy an intersection to put in a bunch of traffic and walk lights, so they route you under the street. But, unlike most others I've seen, this isn't just a tunnel under the road. It's a real subway, with multiple numbered tunnels, signposts, and a map at each entrance. I think there is a total of 10 different tunnels. It doesn't take you under the circus so much as under all the roads that surround it.

Since I was there I decided to investigate the E&C Shopping Centre. This is the place with the Ten Pin bowling alley. Which is on the third floor. It's a rather run down mall building that looks like it originally opened in about 1972. It has the expected mix of third-tier mall shops. A Woolworth's (okay, yes, Woolworth's), a one-hour photo, an independent bookstore whose new books are older than the used ones, a bed store, all manner of unknown businesses, and two grocery stores. There's a Clark's outlet, but nothing much in my size, and no Wallabies in any size. It turns out that the oddly named Iceland.co.uk is just a grocery store.

Most of the action is going on outside where the building is surrounded by scores of bazaar style stalls. These sell the real quality goods. There's one with more of those cell phone faceplates than you'd ever dream existed. There are "mink" blankets, watches, RC cars and planes, Caribbean food, Jamaican hats and scarves, and towels that say "Feelin' Groovy" or have Care Bears on them. I thought about getting a blanket here instead of Argos, but I figured I wanted one that would last longer than a few days. Or cause some sort of hertofore unknown rash. Maybe I'll go back and pick up a few CDs and videos. Or I'll just order them from itjustfelloffthetruck.com...

One odd observation I've made in the last few days: there are an inordinate number of people in this town who limp. It looks like a combination of industrial accidents, reformed (and not-yet reformed) hooligans, and just scary breeding. Don't get me started on that. Sometimes it looks like a cosmopolitan Ozarks. I think I found the inspiration for John Cleese's Department of Funny Walks.

Oh, yesterday I saw someone wearing a Wesleyan tee shirt. I asked him, "Local, Ohio, or Connecticut?" He said Connecticut! He's on an exchange, and comes from Wilton. I guess I'm not as unique as I thought. Although I swear some snot-nosed (though polite) kid in the laundry called me "sir" today.

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I saw a flyer for a September 26 event called London 300. It said that there are over 300 different native languages spoken in London. My trip to school only covers a small part of that. I catch the bus on New Kent Road, to London Road, to Waterloo Road, over Waterloo Bridge, onto Lancaster Place, and finally Aldwych. On this trip I pass (in no particular order) Thai, Indian, Chinese, Italian, Middle Eastern ("kebabs"), and Mexican eateries. There's also the Fishcoteque (one of my favorite names), numerous authentic pubs, the PFC - Perfectly Fried Chicken, the HFC - with a logo that looks suspiciously like Hector de Poulet. There are three colleges: Southbank, Schilling, and Kings College, a brewery, and both the Old Vic and the New Vic (there's a "new" Vic?). There's the Iceland store(?) Iceland.co.uk, and a ten-pin bowling alley. I go through Elephant and Castle, St George's Circus - where there's an obelisk telling you you're one mile from the Palace Gardens at Westminster, one mile from Fleet Street, and one mile from London Bridge - and Waterloo Station.

Today was the start of "Fresher's Fayre." It's run by the Student Union and it's two weeks of concerts, parties, and other social events. All the different student organizations try to get you to join. Not a lot there for someone like me. Although if I decided I had a need to join the Gay, Lesbian, and Transgender Alliance I would have about a 50/50 chance of joining the Women's Field Hockey Team, too (sorry, Audrey).

I was inducted into the department today. Not as painful as it sounds. I received course schedules and heard from some of the professors about their classes. Because of the strike a few of them couldn't attend. I also met my Tutor, Dr. Katerina Papadakis. We went through a little history and discussed some of the courses. The only problem is that I have two courses that overlap for 30 minutes for 5 weeks. I'm not sure how I'll straighten that out. I was trying to relate my confusion over the course schedules and some of the structures (one course has 3 separate required taught classes, and two more required elected classes. Huh?), and started to chuckle. I had to tell her that I was going to say that this is all Greek to me. She said that on Cyprus they used to say it was all Chinese...

Here's what I was talking about: OR402 - Operational Research In Context: OR402.1 has 4 1.5-hour lectures in the first term. 402.2 has 8 2-hour seminars in the second term. 402.3 has 1 7-hour(!) class at the end of the first term and 1 5-hour class at the start of the second term. Then I choose one of four other courses, but I'll probably have to take 402.5, because it's the only thing I haven't taken in another course - get this: Information Systems Issues! It's 10 1-hour lectures in the second term. Then they'll have to figure out what I do for the other elective. Got all that? Good, now do that 5 more times and mix it all together, and add an internship project, and you're done. It was so hard to figure I had to use my calendar program to lay them all out.

I think these updates will become less frequent. The fun starts on Monday.

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There are a lot of new terms I have to get used to around here. I went to the Student Services induction yesterday. Good thing I got there early. Really. I was early! I'm not kidding! The place was full 15 minutes before the start, and if you didn't have a seat, you had to come back on Thursday or Friday. No great shakes on the info, but they do have a lot of services. In addition, I'm a member of the National Union of Students, which let's me use facilities at other schools in town. I'm told that U of London has a pool and much better gym facilities. maybe I will get down to my fighting weight. I met another suite-mate. Robert or Laurent? I really couldn't understand it through (uh-oh) a French accent. He grew up in the 5e Arrondissement in Paris, so we had some fun chatting. The Student Union offers French classes, so I'm going to check that out. I also met Miray (at least that's the phonetic spelling) from Turkey who lived in this suite last year. I learned that Kasudasi is actually pronounced "kazhedazhe," or something like that.

I went to registration this morning, but the signs said graduates register at 2:30, not the 11:00 I was told. So I went to Argos to get pillows and a blanket. Only problem was that Argos is mail order only. Sorta like Service Merchandise started out. So I took the bus back to GDS. I had to change at London Bridge. I walked toward where I thought the stop was, but it was obviously behind me. So I just kept going until I reached the next stop. It was closed. So I walked to the next stop. It was the Borough tube stop. About a half mile from home. The bus came by just as I got there, so I grabbed it any way.

I double checked my email to see what I did wrong on registration. I wasn't wrong. So I went right back out, went to the bus stop, and the driver blew right past me. I was at the front of the stop. I was at the curb. I had my arm out. He was too busy trying to pass a bicycle. I got back to school at 1:00 and was able to register. Except this just means that I "officially" checked in with the school and they issued my ID card. I don't choose my classes until tomorrow's department "induction."

As for the "surgery," it's not what it sounds like. It's a meeting with the Financial Support department. I applied too late in the year to receive a "standard" foreign student scholarship. I'm going to find out if someone who did has decided not to come, or didn't fulfill the requirements in time. Maybe I can glom some of that cash...

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