Before you think that I'm a freak for seeing Coram Boy again, consider the fact that I spent seven hours straight studying in the NT's lobby today. I think that's what qualifies me as a freak.
It's getting bad when practicing for the LSATs qualifies as a fun break.
Speaking of which, this weekend's class. I do think that they did a good job. I think that most things I had gotten, at least in part, from the Powerscore books. It was nice to figure out that fact, though. What cracked me up more than anything was one of the fellow students. He was probably late 20s, early 30s, makes more money than he knows what to do with (let's discuss the casual mention of multiple homes, cars and motorcycles) and was at least three of me in size. Such the UGLY AMERICAN! New Yorker through and through, also very Jewish, kinda skeezy, convinced of his own correctness. Think Jersey mob and I think you're there. Anyway, the guy (and his girlfriend, of course) have been in London for a year, since he was sent by wealthy investment company and HATES it. (WTF? How can you hate London?) All he wants to do is go back to New York.
I think this story is illustrative. He asked where I lived, since we were the only two from London. I don't expect people to really know what I mean when I say I live at Tower Hill Tube (we talk in tube stations if we really don't want to get into the details), but when I say that I live across from the Tower of London and next to Tower Bridge and still get stares, I'm worried. Especially from people who've been here for any length of time. No wonder the guy hates it: he hasn't seen any of it! I was flabberghasted that someone could live here so long and a) not fall in love with the city and b) not see any of it outside of home, the office and the pub. Oh, and Covent Garden...because its the only place to get a decent sandwich. The hell?
I wrote a whole rant on this once, but wisely have left it on my harddrive and nowhere else.