Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...

That's what I'm holding out for. Macbeth and I, both. The week was full of the new and the unknown, but now that Friday is finally here, I'm ready to turn down the bed and turn on a movie. I've averaged meeting about 3 people per hour, for the past 72. And yes, I am including those few precious minutes spent with my head propped on the pillow. It has been a great opportunity to meet new people and inquire about their interests, but I'm ready to break away from the grand gaggle of wide-eyed art-market aspiring twenty-somethings, and separate into our individual programs. I'll be with just the small group of Art Business students next week, and for the remaining 51 this coming year starting on Monday!

I started my morning with another unbearably long bus commute, because everyone deserves a second chance...especially when you're as cute and quaint and so stereotypically British as a bright red double-decker. It was around minute 30 of 60 that I realized I just can't do it without Zim sitting next to me, sharing her latest Pandora playlist victory to ease the pain. Is it really so much to ask the UK to allow that perfect app inside this country to create the ideal blend of Phoenix and Vampire Weekend before I've had my first cup of coffee? I'll be heading to Earl's Court bright and early tomorrow to purchase my first of 12, month-long tube passes (at 74 GBP's a month I'm really missing my favored 68 to Harvard Square at $60 a month about now).

After a couple cups of coffee, I headed away from the crisp morning cookies and cakes, into the labyrinth that was set up as Sotheby's rendition of an "extra-curricular fair." I felt almost obligated to tell someone that the fair was missing the most intrinsic aspects of any successful day 1 endeavor: the ice cream truck and Skyhawk stressballs that are really the only reason for any undergrad to pull themselves from bed at noon after August has ended. Duh. I do suppose we're expected to have graduated from the freebie frenzy, though, and are now responsible for getting ourselves actively involved in developing our own lives...ridiculous.

I ended up talking with a few people from the Contemporary Art Society, who convinced me (or didn't really have to) to join up and take arms along with them, to help develop public collections of contemporary art across the UK. Check 'em out! http://www.contemporaryartsociety.org/ Yes, M, they are non-profit. Sorry, but you'll still have to help me figure out how to support this champagne taste on a beer bottle budget when I come home. As a member, I'll get access to gallery previews, private collection visits, and curator lectures throughout the year, across the country! Oh, and it's great networking. Something new and different.

A few lectures later, we were sent out on our own for lunch, to explore the wild (or not so wild) world of Bloomsbury. I went to The Court (an ENG recommendation from way back!) with a few people from Art Business, Contemporary Design and Photography, and I had my first proper pub food of the week! I sat between two Brits, so I got a good history/geography lesson on Sussex and Oxfordshire (and had to work really hard at not mimicking their accents between bites of chips and sandwich, which is actually far more difficult than one would think). After lunch, the group split and four of us walked the few blocks to the British Museum. I had an hour lecture in the Enlightenment gallery (snooze...of ALL the galleries in the British Museum, I'd like to know who picked Enlightenment...), and we were cut free for the day! The four of us met back up and grabbed a couple pints at the College Arms on Gower Street, decided we were far too tired to attempt any sort of attack on British nightlife, and jumped on our respective tube lines. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. We'll be making our debut in proper, young-adult London living tomorrow.

Stopped in a few stores on my way home to get this phone situation figured out, and a man with a Persian face, a Russian accent and a union jack t-shirt made some sort of maneuver with his very special Sim card (that I'm SURE AT&T wouldn't approve of) and 20 seconds later, I'm on the O2 network! Up and running, this girl.

Walked the few blocks home to find my first mail inside the door! While the junk mail at home is typically left for M to sort and shred, I think I might frame these two! So exciting to see my name with a UK postcode! And the bank account means, no more paying fees for swiping that plastic--doubly exciting!

The only thing still on the agenda tonight is a hot shower. Up bright and early to take full advantage of the beautiful weather, since I've been promised on multiple occasions that the 70 degree-days are nearing their end. I'm telling you, these Brit's are far more cynical than me...and that's really saying something. Can't a girl hope for some September sun?

My final Friday tid-bit is really just for JEM. Drumroll....I saw my first Birkin!!!! That's right, that's right, baby's first Birkin was September 2, 2011. So I did what any Gilmore Girl would do, and creepily checked out the stitching and the hardware detail while she LEFT IT THERE and went to get another cup of tea. And yes, I am 99% sure it was genuine. The observation alone, along with her Seychelles-clad soles and Burberry-adorned back, pretty much confirmed it for me. Maybe her name is Rory...I'll have to follow up.

Hope everyone has some good plans for the weekend!

Cheers!