Playing Tourist

Before I landed in London, I made a promise to myself that I would behave like a tourist one day of the week. To me this meant walking around with a map and my camera gawking at the things I had only seen on television or in the movies...trying to play it cool when I round a corner and suddenly there's Big Ben or the London Eye or whatever.

So yesterday I kept my promise to myself and went to the National Portrait Gallery.  I would understand that this is place that probably wouldn't be very high on many people list of priorities when coming to London. But I thought "I have a year. What the hell." I like art. I do. I'm not a great lover of it by any stretch of the imagination but I appreciate beautiful and well done things. I spent about an hour and half there lingering over the portraits of people I'd actually heard of and glancing at the rest. The gallery had portraits of everyone from Henry VIII (and his many, many wives) to Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots, to Charles and Diana and a rather interesting rendering of Elizabeth II by Andy Warhol. The newest addition to the royal family portraits was the portrait of Princes William and Harry unveiled just last year. All in all, an extraordinary place to visit but I wouldn't necessarily go to again.

Weddings and Perfect Mondays

Third wedding in a month. While each hold their own special place in my heart, this one was by far the most fun. A DJ with superior taste in music and an open bar - what more could you really wish for? I was three glasses of Chardonnay in and mouthing the words to the Righteous Brothers when I realized, 'Oh my God, I want this'.

I'm so happy for my cousin. He and his new wife deserve this happiness. Just as I was completely, deliriously happy for my friend, I'm the same way for his wonderful, sweet guy. They truly deserve each other and while I don't know them as well as I wish I did, I believe that they will last.

Mondays are never perfect. They suck. They're Mondays and that's what they do. Suck. But last Monday was perfect for one reason: a phone call from the US embassy in London.

Growing Up

I admit that I don't feel very grown up. It doesn't help that I still could pass for a high schooler in terms of looks. I'm mature (most of the time) and have always thought myself to be a very level-headed and focused. But that in no way implies that I feel grown up. I don't have my own place. I don't have a job with many responsibilities or potential for advancement. I don't have a relationship with a guy (saying 'man' makes me feel weird, like I'd be dating a forty year-old). I don't have any real responsibilities in my life. In a way, I like it. In a way, I hate it. I'd say I'm about 80% grown up. Tonight, though, I feel as if I grew up a little more and I think I know why.

Sold A Bill of Goods and Becoming Fearless

I was told from the time I entered kindergarten that I had to get a college degree. It wasn't an option. I had to get one. So I did. And frankly, fat lot of good it's done me. $40,000 over four years for a $12/hour job.

My generation, perhaps more than any other, was sold one expensive bill of goods. We were all told this: "Go to college, get a good job. Earn money. Everything will be fine." No it's not. Or maybe it's because I majored in something I actually liked and not something that bored me out of my mind. I had a friend who majored in something that would guarantee her a good job. That's all well and good but she wasn't happy with it. It wasn't what she wanted to do or enjoyed. It didn't make her excited. It made her stressed. She has a good job now but I can't tell you if she will be happy in the long run. That's something she'll have to determine.

Stupidly, I majored in something that I loved. Something that made me excited to go to class, to write papers, to discuss and debate. It was a sensible major, one that conceivably get me a job after earning a master's degree. So I guess we'll see about that in a year. But am I happy with my decision five years after I made it? By and large, I think I'm not. I'm not because it was safe. That doesn't negate the fact that I enjoyed studying what I did or cause me to enjoy it any less because I still do like politics and international relations but truth be told, if I had it to do over again and was fearless in the face of job prospects I wouldn't have majored in it. I would have followed my gut instinct and said "I want to be a writer". And an English major I would have become.

Things Just Happen

I filed my Visa application on Monday. As I did so, self-doubt started creeping back in. Am I doing the right thing? I know that I really shouldn't wait any longer because I'm starting to feel as though my life hasn't really begun. It's like I keep waiting for something and that something doesn't ever come or happen. But I suppose a lot of life is like that - planning and preparing for things that can't or won't come about due to circumstances that, by and large, are out of our control.

I'm not a big believer in fate. I think things just happen, for good or for bad. Things. Just. Happen. But I do give a little weight to the whole "meant to be" notion of life. I'd like to think there was a reason I didn't get into law school or Brown or wherever. I'd really like to believe that there is some reason for me to be packing up my life and moving to another country. What is it that I'm supposed to discover? Where is it that I'm supposed to go? What am I to do with this incredible opportunity? Not squander it away, I get, but otherwise is this a chance to become who I am meant to be?

Life is all about discovery, and I don't think that we are stagnate once we reach "adulthood". Who is to define what adulthood is anyway? I don't feel like an adult yet, despite my age and the degree that tells me otherwise. We should constantly reach and redefine and develop and progress as we age. My personality at 18 going in to college is a lot different than my personality is now at 24. Some say college is about finding out who you are. My experience was that college is about finding out who you are not. It was about embracing my inherent nerdiness and to stop apologizing for if not being the smartest person in the room then wanting to be the smartest person in the room. One of my proudest moments of my college career was when I realized that I was the one who threw the curve in my history class because of my grade on an exam.

Though the ratio of confidence to doubt about what could become 'Misadventures in Becoming an Expat' is growing in the confidence column, I still have room for about 40% doubt. Mostly it is centered around what happens when I'm handed that degree and I'm back to square one on the job situation. I appreciate that there are people who are and will be worse off because of this economic downtown than I ever will be because of my education, yet a part of me panics every time I so much as think about trolling for a job again. I don't think things will be any better fifteen months from now. But you never know. I could end up with the job of my dreams (I'm looking at you NBC News). I could end up with what I have dreamed of all along. Then again, I could end up with nothing but a piece of paper worth only my sweat and tears and $35,000. I can't plan for anything. I can only hope and wish and daydream because things just happen.

BNA to LHR via Boston. Departs September 21. So that should be simple enough, right? Three airports, one airline. Same coming home in December for Christmas. Not a big deal.

However, to avoid paying an astronomically outrageous price for a one-way ticket I did a little shopping around. The trip back to London won't be nearly as much fun. Southwest was running some great specials and they now fly to New York. Perfect. Well, almost perfect; they fly to LaGuardia, which is not an international airport. But the ticket was too cheap to pass up so I booked a one-way to LGA. Then I found a great deal with IcelandAir on Priceline - $400. Awesome. Now my one-way back to Britain cost half what my round trip did.

What it takes to get to London in January: six airports, five cities, three countries, two airlines, and one cross-borough bus...is apparently what it will take to get me back to school.

In other traveling news, my friend Zach is pretty sure he's coming to visit. I get about six weeks off between second term and third and we think it's the perfect time to do a little gallivanting around western Europe. We've decided Germany is to be our prime target though he really wants to make a stop in Amsterdam (I think it's because pot is legal there). After a long phone conversation about things we've always wanted to do, Zach did a search on Bing...for, wait for it, "best concentration camps". Only because I know him so well do I know what he actually meant. Bing.com, I'm sure, was thinking "Go to hell". Despite his lack of cultural awareness and attempts at a British accent, I'm certain we'll have fun. In fact, I don't know if there is another person I'd consider spending an entire week in a foreign country with. So I think we'll 'Amazing Race' the hell out this trip.

15 Weeks

I leave in 15 weeks. September 22 (or thereabouts). If I could phrase this more elegantly, I would but shit's gettin' real now. I bought new luggage this weekend, a duffel bag so large that I could fit into it comfortably in the fetal position. I dread to think how heavy the thing is going to be when it's crammed full of clothes and shoes and other things I think I can't live without.

My dvd collection keeps growing at an alarming rate and I fear I may have to leave some behind. I'm trying to determine which movies I can't live without (my mom would say all of them). However, Amazon.com one-click shopping is not making this any easier. I keep buying seasons of Alias, 30 Rock, Gilmore Girls, Entourage and The Golden Girls because I will miss them like friends. I dread to think of leaving the States without Liz, Jack, and Kenneth the Page. Or Vince, Ari and Drama. Not having Lorelai or Rory to keep me company. Especially when the only British television I'm comfortable with is the exports we're got here.

I tend to think of myself as a bibliophile, bookworm, book nerd, whatever. I have three bookcases overflowing with all types of books - fiction, drama, poetry, non-fiction, you name it. I own more books on the Kennedy clan than any reasonable person should. All the Harry Potter books - both British and American editions. All will be left behind and with great sadness. But I cannot, cannot, cannot, bring myself to purchase a Kindle. I won't do it. It's not a book. It never will be. I'm on the computer enough to know that my eyes couldn't take gazing at the tiny screen very long or enjoy a book that way. So I'll have to leave behind all but a few selected tomes that will fit into my backpack. There are too many favorites to choose so I think my course of action, my plan of attack, for this the most difficult of packing decisions will be...to simply buy some new books. Just so I won't have to choose.

Thoughts on soccer and the South

I've always been a soccer, hmm...excuse me football, fan. Not only am I a fan, but I'm a former player. Played the sport since I was four and had to be told which way to go (picture three somewhat confused four year olds being asked "Which way are we going" and dutifully pointing in the right direction). So needless to say I've been looking forward to the World Cup since, well, the last one. Interesting thing, though, this World Cup. My home country will be taking on my future residence tomorrow. Is it wrong to hope it's a draw like the two highly unsatisfactory matches (I'm looking at you France) were today?

On to other things: The South is getting hammered with everything from floods and tornadoes to the oilpocalypse in the Gulf, the sacred waters that hold one of the staples of Southern cuisine - seafood. I'm upset as the next person about this, especially since it's happening in my backyard to the people of a region that has been left behind in nearly everything (granted, part of that really is our fault). But I've noticed that the South gets dumped on constantly. We're hicks, rednecks, ignorant, backwards, reactionary, racists...We get it. We know what we did. We live with it and are reminded of it every damn day. Not all of us are like this though. So while we appreciate the outpouring of support and help and concern, how about acting like we're a part of the nation all the time instead of just when something terrible happens?

One Roundabout Way To Get To Europe

I'm scouting flights now for September and hope to book in the next month or so. So far, I'm planning on taking Southwest to either Baltimore, Philadelphia or Boston then flying Virgin Atlantic or Aer Lingus to London - whichever is cheaper. However, I'm still looking at other airlines and keeping tabs on prices. I checked Kayak.com today during my lunch break and I have a question for United Airlines: why is it necessary, if I want to fly your airline, that I travel from Nashville to Chicago, Chicago to Los Angeles, and Los Angeles to London? Really? You realize that is the complete opposite direction I need to be going, right?

Never Gonna Happen

The contents of my closet will never, ever fit in to the luggage I already have.

I pulled out two suitcases today and packed what I plan to take with me. Well, not everything but a lot of the things that will be coming with me. After twenty minutes I realized it's definitely going to take two 29-inch suitcases to get me to London.

No Whistlin' Tonight in Dixie

While the oil spill in the Gulf has dominated news coverage, we here in middle Tennessee are being ignored by the national media. A good portion of the county I live in is underwater. We were spared any damage but some very close to us weren't so lucky. The Opryland Hotel is flooded. The Grand Ole Opry is flooded. Interstates are closed. Houses, cars, businesses are underwater and no one is paying us any attention.

I'm a big believer in helping when you can. It's our duty to our fellow man to help when others are in trouble. We  donated to the Clinton-Bush Haiti Relief Fund and so did millions of Americans. The money will help rebuild schools, repair roads, build new infrastructure, house the homeless. But where is the outpouring of money to help do those things here? The President didn't so much as mention the flooding here today. Keith Olbermann of MSNBC summed it up perfectly: Flooded and Forgotten. Indeed.

A Piece of My History

I found out last night that my great-grandmother died on April 15. She was 104. There wasn't a funeral, just a small graveside service earlier this week. No fuss. No dragged out visitation. Perhaps it's better that way. I visited with her when I would go see my grandparents. She really had no idea who I was. Her short-term memory wasn't very good anymore. She knew I was a grandchild, just not which one or who I belonged to. I feel privileged to have been able to meet her, to know her, because most people don't have that opportunity. I have know two of my great-grandparents. My grandfather's father lived into his nineties and I saw him a few times before he died. Though I didn't know either of them well, it is sad news to hear. She lived a long life and I suppose no one could ask for more.

In other news, good thing I emailed the admissions office yesterday because my attendance confirmation never made it to London. They let me scan a new one in so I hope everything is fine now. Is someone trying to tell me something? First my housing form doesn't make it, now my attendance confirmation. Everything should be taken care of now. Four and half months.

Accepting What Cannot Be

For as much as I complain about the heat and the humidity (oh God, the humidity) in the South, I believe I secretly love it. Summer really is a beautiful season in the South - the full greenery, vibrant flowers, homegrown tomatoes, and the buzz of locusts in the evening. I love wandering through the farmers' market on the weekend and eating Ripley, TN grown tomatoes and sighing with relief when the Georgia peaches finally come in. These are the things I will miss when I move.

I had pictured myself at law school at one of the fine institutions of the Southeastern Conference learning Constitutional law and civil procedure from seersucker suit-clad professors. I saw myself clerking in the summer at the Southern Poverty Law Center in Birmingham or working on a political campaign. I wanted to learn a new school, to singing Hotty Toddy or Glory, Glory to Ole Georgia at football games, to proudly display my Tennessee Alumni status when they took on the Volunteers. I wanted to settle myself down for three years and in that time gain a career and maybe a partner to share life with.

I'm learning it's harder to accept what isn't or can't be (well, yet at any rate) than it is what is. I know realistically that I could come home and enter law school and become a Rebel or a Bulldawg. With law school there would have been certainty. I would have known what my career would be and have an idea of where I was heading following graduation. Because I'm a planner, this appealed to me immensely. What I'm about to do, leaves me a year from now with no plan. I will have a degree, from a prestigious university, but not clue about what to do with it. What am I doing? Every once in a while, about once a week, I wonder what the hell I'm doing. Do I really want to do this? Am I doing it to cross something off on my bucket list? Well, yes and no. I want to go. I want to do this to learn about myself and what I'm capable of but I know a part of me will be wanting to be sitting outside listening to the locusts studying torts and sweating in the humidity.

Weddings and Nonsense

It seems summer is shaping up to be more than just work. I was asked to be in one of my oldest friend's wedding. I've known her since fourth grade and could hardly so no to her. I was on the fence about being in the wedding at first because of the time and expense I'm going to have to invest in it, but in the end I knew I wouldn't forgive myself if a passed up the chance to be in her wedding. It's at the end of July so it will be a nice half-way marker of sorts. The place she's getting married is absolutely beautiful - full of old Southern charm.

On to other things. I mailed my housing application the same day I mailed my confirmation of attendance. It was returned to me about nine days later for "insufficient address". I didn't understand so I took it to the post office and asked. I told them that the address on the envelope was the address the school had given me and pointed out that it was the exact same as the one on the bottom of the form. "What is insufficient about it?" I asked. Not surprisingly, the post office couldn't tell me. "You're the ones that marked it insufficient and you can't tell me?" I'm sorry, she said. The hell? Luckily the school is allowing me to scan it and email it to them.

Sucky, sucky day

Finally received my rejection letter from UT law today. Twice in two years. Not even a spot on the wait list. It pissed me off more than anything. I wish I could figure out what law schools are looking for. You'd think after all this rejection I'd just be used to it. Anyway, as much as I'd have liked to go to law school I really didn't want to go there anyway and would have attempted to transfer.

It was the perfect end to kind of bitter day at work. I've never really enjoyed my job. It is, at times, downright boring. I listen to music or movies on YouTube or books on CD simply to get through the day. I feel like any skills I had going into the job have evaporated over the year and a half I've been there. The majority of people of are nice but it doesn't help when you've been told by the HR manager - repeatedly - how over qualified you are. Then give me something else to do, damn it. I know I'm too smart for this job. 

The problem sometimes is that I don't feel like I really work there. And by that I mean that I feel as though I'm kind of just there to do whatever menial task they give me and go on my merry way. No reward. No chance for advancement. No opportunity to prove that I could be an asset if they'd only give me a chance. I helped plan an end of the year shindig for the sales people this year with the HR assistant. Worked hard. Did what I was asked. Took on extra work. Know what I got? Pulled off the trip. I didn't even get to revel in my planning and organizing. Didn't get to go. I was more than a little pissed off. Then, today I noticed the department I work for got pizza for lunch - looked to be ordered by the manager for everyone. Was I even offered any? Nope. I swear it's like I'm unappreciated or just not there unless they need filing done. Don't even ask why it was the pizza that set this off. It's a culmination of things. Such as...

I'm supposed to have a pretty large project completed by the time I leave in September. Well, it's going to be pretty hard to complete unless they give me more hours. Currently, I work 5 hours a day and close to two hours is spent either relieving the receptionist for her breaks or taking the checks to the bank. I have roughly three hours everyday to do my work. If the project isn't completed then it isn't completed. Let them deal with it. It won't be my problem anymore.

95 Percent

That's how sure I am about sticking with the decision to move in September. There was nothing more frightening knowing I was going to be leaving undergrad without a job even though I could move home and have all the comforts I was used to. But now things are different. I'm struggling to even find a part time job to fill in the 15 hours I'm not getting at my current job, which gives me only 25 hours a week. And no benefits. None and no hope of ever getting them. There is no room for growth in this job and no room to advance a skill set or learn something new. It is a dead-end job. If I don't return to school then where do I go? I must have applied to hundreds of even the lowliest of positions simply to get my foot in the door. I need an advanced degree because clearly the one I have isn't doing anything for me.

Yet there is a part of me that is pulling back. What if I'm in this situation a year and half from now - no job, no prospect, and living back with my parents? I don't think I can stand the thought of completely wasting my 20's like this. It's heartbreaking, realizing that these two years since I graduated have been nothing but a waste. The only thing I have to show for it is the amount of money I've saved to go back to school. Regardless, I'm still having to take out a loan and from that springs the hesitancy. I could very well be in this same position in late 2011 with $20,000 in debt. Positively terrifying.

What if I don't go? What if I continue as I am now - unhappy, constantly searching for some way to advance and consistently falling short? I have to take a risk, don't I? I have to do this. I suppose hope is all I have to go on. Hope that I will excel and graduate with honors. Hope that I manage to convince someone to give me an internship. Hope that I will have a job. Hope that I'm not making what could be a gigantic mistake.

It only took the first black President and the first female Speaker....

To pass health care reform. And now the batshit insane have come completely out of the woodwork. The bill, I admit, is flawed. It's not perfect but then again no piece of legislation is, but it is at least a step in the right direction. The Republican party in this country has completely and utterly lost it. Spitting on Congressman, shouting racial slurs, damaging property, making death threats....this isn't the American I know and it certain is not the party of Reagan. I'm embarrassed that they are acting this way. Apparently the only legitimate government is a government run by Republicans. President Obama and the Democratic Congress have no authority to act despite the fact that they were elected - overwhelmingly - by a populous that was tired to the Republican brand. Clearly this is their thinking.

All I know is that in September I won't have to worry about insurance or health care for at least a year, maybe more. God Bless the NHS and the British for instituting a remarkable system that, though not perfect, ensures that all Brits have adequate health care and don't have to worry about how to pay to get the treatment they need.

Bureaucracy at its best

Waited in line today for close to two hours at the post office to file for my passport. A line of at least fifty people and two postal workers on the job. I was smarter than most and had filled out the application online beforehand and got my pictures taken at CVS so it could have taken longer. Also, I sent my housing application to UCL. I chose the student houses as my first choice because I don't think I can tolerate having to live with a meal plan in the residences. UT's food was bad enough. I don't even want to imagine what I would have to stomach in England. I like English food, well, some of it, but every day, twice a day I don't think I could go that.

Interesting to note...

I was accepted the the 4th ranked university in the world but not the 31st ranked school. This makes me wonder if US schools place too much emphasis on standardized test scores and reject students on that basis almost alone. My quant score on the GRE was flat out embarrassing - took it twice and score did not change. My verbal score put me in the 93 percentile of all who take the exam. My writing scores were above average but I think I write better than I did on the exam. No, I know I write better than I did on the exam; I have 4 A's in college English comp and literature to prove that. Plus the A's on all those poli sci papers I wrote and countless history essays.

The stress put on these tests are incredibly unfair. I know I would have done well in the public policy school of #31. My GRE score was a big mark against me, but my recommendations were excellent and my essay was a thorough and well-thought out explanation of a couple of poor grades (math and one horrible semester of Italian which left me with a few choice curse words as the only think I remember) and what I wanted to do with an MPP degree.

I'm nothing if not tenacious so at some point in the future I'll apply to #31 again. Maybe when I come back to the states or maybe in a couple of years but I'm going to get in. If nothing else than to prove I can.

First hurdle: that damn quant section.

The world rankings for universities can be found here: http://www.timeshighereducation.co.uk/hybrid.asp?typeCode=438

Wavering

For about a day I teetered on the edge of rethinking this whole thing. Part of me is already there but part of me still longs to go to law school. I'm currently awaiting what I'm only guessing will be a courtesy waitlist letter from UT Law - again. I'l admit I didn't do so hot on the LSAT but standardized tests aren't my thing but I feel that I would do well in law school. I believe I would enjoy it. If I could only convince a school to let me in.

Yesterday I was looking around for schools that offer part-time programs and still have a good reputation and ranking. I found several and one in particular that I'm interested in. It's in California and offers not just a concentration in the law I want to study but a whole damn institution dedicated to it. Over forty class offerings - everything from Motion Picture Production and Distribution Law and Working with the Guilds to Historic Preservation and Internet and E-Commerce Law. I'd be in heaven. They accept applications until April 1.

It took me around ten minutes to realize that it probably wasn't worth my $75 to send the application and LSAC report. I really want to go to London. It's an opportunity that really is once in a lifetime. I will never again have the available time and personal situation that would permit to move to another country. This law school will be here in 18 months when I'm done. I can always choose to go. I can always make the time and effort to earn that degree, to live in a city so vastly different from the one in which I grew up and experience life on the Pacific coast. It's not a desire or dream to give up, but rather simply one to put off for a year or so.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered...

Well, in two weeks time or thereabouts. Mailing the confirmation to UCL tomorrow. I went ahead and sent them an email to let them know it's on the way because you never know with the postal service. Next step: passport. I got the awful pictures made last week. Why can photographs like that never turn out attractive? It's as bad as my driver's license photo and makes me look like I'm about 16.

It Still Hurts

Got the last admissions letter today from the other American school I applied to. It was no. Not surprising to say the least. This school was my long shot - not really my dream school but at the top of my list. From the moment I sent the application in I knew that it was going to be a "no". The odds were against me owing to the school's ranking and my less than stellar GRE score (a topic for another post if I ever feel the need to vent about standardized testing and school admissions).

I know I've been accepted to four very fine schools but it hurts nonetheless. I'm not even sure I would have chosen to attend this school but the option would have been nice. But now I can choose to go to England and not fret over deciding. Maybe something bigger than myself is choosing for me. I don't know. Maybe moving is what I'm meant to do.

In Search of a Graduate School

I'm a writer. I am not a blogger. I read them but I have never once commented on one so it's a little strange to actually start one of my own. I don't delude myself that people out there really care what I have to say so I do this for me. I wanted a record, in writing and pictures, of the decision I make, of the people I will meet, and of the life of a Southern girl in London. 


The first major decision of my life is before me: graduate school. The University of Tennessee or University College London.



I finally got word today - after 4 months of waiting - that I’ve been accepted to the MPA program at UT. The email produced two reactions: 1) relief that the school I already have a degree from accepted me again. There was a little doubt there because of an abysmal score on the quant section of the GRE; and 2) Do I really want to go back?


The last reaction required a little examination. Do I really want to go back? Yes. And no. Yes because of the football games, the basketball games, Barley’s Taproom, Downtown Grill and Brewery’s $2 pints, friends, familiarity. Ah, the last one is the problem. I won’t say I hated my time at UT but I’m not going to say I loved it either. There were things I loved about it certainly but this isn’t undergraduate and I’m not 18 anymore. It’s too familiar at this point. I know where everything is, how things work, which professors are complete assholes and which ones you can chat with in their offices. I know not to schedule a math class on the Hill at 8am and an English class in Humanities at 9:05am. You’re barely going to make that class unless you run down the 200-odd steps from Circle Drive to Andy Holt Avenue. And don’t even think about making it up that 4% grade of Andy Holt to Volunteer without nearly having a stroke when it’s 95 degrees and 100 percent humidity. I know that tailgating begins at 7am for a 3pm kickoff and that you go back and tailgate afterwards, win or lose. I know where all the Starbucks are located on campus and that if you visit anyone of them during the middle of exams there’s a chance they’re going to be out of coffee. 


Moving back to Knoxville wouldn’t be bad, I thought last week as I drove down Kingston Pike. But it wouldn’t be great either.


Knowing all the little quirks of a place are great. It gives you the inside edge. It makes you look like you know what you’re doing. That familiarity leads to boredom, though, and there is no joy to be found exploring the campus. Nothing is new or intimidating. It’s safe. And that’s what choosing to go back to UT would be - safe. 


Choosing to go to UCL would be decidedly unsafe. Not in terms of actual physical safety. I’m pretty sure it’s just as safe as UT though I don’t know. I don’t know anything other than what I’ve read in the prospectus. I’ve looked at maps and read about services but reading and finding are two different matters entirely. Everything would be new and exciting, intimidating and trying. And that’s what would make going to UCL great. It would test me. It would require me to step out of my comfort zone and force me to meet people and navigate my way around a foreign city and country. Moving to London would be an adventure; moving back to Knoxville would be nothing more than a 3-hour car trip.


Academics wise, UCL would be the smarter decision. According to my Google search earlier today, UCL is ranking 5th in the UK and in the top 10 world wide. I have no idea what UT’s ranking is but I can pretty well guess it’s not in the top ten world wide and is certainly not ranked higher than 30 in the US for public schools. I’ve experienced the department I’ll be studying in and as a whole I was not terribly impressed. Don’t get me wrong, I had some fabulous professors and took some great classes. But it’s one of the weaker departments at the school, one which doesn’t get much funding and has a limited class offering. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t make the best of my time there. I would, but it just doesn’t make sense to go back into a school where I know that the education for a graduate degree may be only marginally better than the undergraduate one. I don’t know how UCL stacks up in reality. Rankings tell you next to nothing but it does look good. I would never get into the 5th ranked school in the US (I have no idea what it is, probably Stanford or Princeton). 


I’m already excited about going to London. The only thing that excites me about going back to UT is football and the comfort of familiarity.