London, a little bit later

That isn't London. It's Cornwall, where I was this past week.

I have no idea why I've chosen today to relaunch my attempts at blogging. After not doing work for practically a week (with the exception of reading and plotting and writing subheadings), my three essays are looming down upon my skull with intense pressure.

Pressure for a post-grad student, that is, which means essentially that between eating, showing up in class with a gaggle of awkward, sweater-wearing, bourgeois dilettantes, and discussing complex political theories with no real world application, I have begun fretting about essay due dates, which were created out of thin air by professors in a discipline to which I voluntarily -- nay, quite deliberately -- joined. (And post-grads speaking of poverty, and high tuition prices, is also quite bullshit; no one in dire straights ever goes, "Hey. I know what will lift me out of poverty: A degree in International Politics.")

I hesitate to think that this is an update of any kind, but in case anyone was wondering, London is great.

I have a few habits:

1) Jogging along Regent's canal, dodging bikers and sojourners and misshapen path stones.
2) Walking through Bloomsbury, looking up through the trees at the ornate fixtures on all the ancient (compared to Toronto) buildings.
3) Eating dumplings and lamb (these are not unique to London, but forged in Ottawa)
4) Strolling around London like I own the place, and turning a stiff upper nose to pre-adolescents posing in front of red phone booths on Tavistock Street, near Russell Square.
5) Reading the Sunday papers, notably: The Observer, The Sunday Times, and the FT Weekend. (These are all available in Canada, but they don't come with the plethora of goodies and they're about 3x more expensive. The Observer once came with chocolate!)

That is all. I'll leave you all with one last picture of Cornwall's coast.