Two Girls Holding Hands

The beauty of travelling across the ocean to live in another country resides largely in the opportunity to witness and experience a vastly different culture. Culture in London is remarkably diverse, but sadly my opportunities to really experience it first-hand have been thus far circumscribed to observation. Westminster caters to an extensive international student base, but unfortunatley that often means clustering these students together for the purpose of ease. Obviously classes haven't even started yet, at which point the number of opportunities should increase exponentially, but the sooner I can get rolling on my British accent the better.

Still, things are of course, leveling out as time passes. I'm not sure whether or not to expect a plateau of sorts to be established, a plateau by which the magnitude of my experiences will be measured. I do assume that a routine of sorts will eventually form itself, perhaps unconsciously. The question then becomes whether or not that routine becomes insipid. Obviously, without even having started classes, it's difficult to intelligently prognosticate about.

As for the title of this post, it alludes to one of my many promenades through London. I found myself traversing one of the innumerable underground tube stations in London only to stumble upon this unfamiliar display of public affection. I was busy contemplating this, when the woman on the left turned back and gazed into my eyes. I hadn't, at this point, looked at her directly, but something indicated to me that she had a very pallid complexion. I jerked around only to accidentally brush against her. "Oh, gosh.." I said, before carefully perusing her for the first time, and then continued, "..I'm terribly sorry...sir." Hmm....maybe the Brits aren't so different after all.