I bet you say that to all the girls

Is it absurd to feel like a slacker because I've been in London for five and a half days and do not yet have a flat? Or a bank account, or a monthly train pass? I think I'm probably a horrible loser who is incapable of running her own life.

Admittedly, I've been waiting on the banks and trains because I'd like to have an address first. And, to be fair, it takes me ages to search real estate listings because I have to refer to several different maps (thanks, azzy23) and sometimes wikipedia in order to figure out what an address means. It does not help that everything is listed with the appellement of its neighborhood, and the neighborhood names are not always listed on the maps.

Also, most times I've called about an apartment, I've found out that - surprise - despite what's said in the advert, I'd be sharing a room with a man whose first language is not English, who is mesmerized by the sound of my voice, and sorry there's no apartment, but could I take you out for a drink, bella donna?

However! On Thursday, I successfully managed to visit the London Film School for a "so, you've arrived in London" briefing. The students, myself included, were largely jet-lagged and bewildered and afraid of making cultural missteps. (Only a quarter of the students are from the UK, and most of them weren't there for the "how to live in the UK" lecture, understandably.) I'm sure that, in time, I will view them as friends and develop respect for their creative abilities (most likely in reverse order). At present, I think we may be the sorriest bunch ever brought together in the name of art. I'm glad I made the decision to wear shoes without laces that morning, and did not try to chew gum while I walked around.

The building is an old warehouse or factory - probably originally built for something to do with paper, given its location. It's tall, dark, and narrow - classes on seven different floors, with only a few rooms per floor. Most rooms are some combination of yellow brick, white, black, and red - often with a fine coating of sawdust, thanks to the studio sets which are continually built and demolished. The ground floor contains screening rooms and a coffee bar which feels more like an impoverished pub. I will spend a lot of time running up and down narrow red staircases.

I already feel territorial about several of the floors, which I have decided are mine. Also, the staff members - mine. I have resolved that I will practically be running the school by the time I graduate, and that it is imperative that all my films be vastly superior to anyone else's. It has been a long time since I've been hit this hard by megalomania; I think Val is the only one who might still remember the years in which I intended to conquer the world. But the school is mine. Mine mine mine mine. The cameras, and the microphones, and the lights, and the editing bays. My projects are the only important ones, because they are the only ones that involve me, The Best of Ones, and my success matters more than other people's.

Presumably, I will be more humble after a few days of classes.

If not, I will have to maintain steely self control so as not to pounce on people, steal their lunch money, etc..

There were some very exciting cameras.