Muskrat Love

So Mandy and I are walking in the park, enjoying a leisurely stroll in some of the most schizophrenic weather I have ever experienced. Suddenly, we are approached with some urgency by a couple wielding rollerblades.

What, they desperately want to know, do we think about English gentlemen?

The obvious answer would be "We don't." I've been here for a little more than a month now and it really has not occurred to me to devote much thought to the subject of English gentlemen. But these people (one from Poland, one from Lebanon) are furious about the decline of gentlemanly manners. Only foreigners give up their seats on the tube! they exclaim. The men here are rude and vulgar! Apparently Lebanon is the last outpost for decency and virtue.

Now you know.

Mandy's visit was absolutely vunderbar. She explored a bit on her own on Friday, then we met up with her friend from childhood and what could have been a very awkward night ended up being really fun (this is a hallmark of knowing Mandy: she manages to turn potentially weird situations into great ones.) Here I am with my flatmate Sarah, refusing directions from this British giant, but insisting he take a picture with us:

On Saturday we went to the Tate (not as great as I'd heard, and I like modern art enough) and met Alena for lunch. I dragged her to tea and then we saw "The Producers." I took a picture that makes me look like Mandy's creepy stalker, so here it is:

And in conclusion, Stephen Colbert was the NU homecoming marshal this year. The ONE YEAR NU does something cool, I'm in stupid, boring Europe. My life is so hard.