Winning London one unexpected acceptance at a time

'Ello, readers!

So you might have noticed that I haven't posted in a few months. It's partially because I'm no longer living a fabulous existence jet-setting around Europe, and also partially because I'm bored to death in Miami, and yeah. What's happened the past few months? Well, I've been trying to survive senior year. There have been a few close calls, but I'm still standing.

There was a time where I thought I'd be spending the year after graduating in Germany, and while that's still a slight possibility, there's something potentially even more exciting.

I've been accepted to grad school -- not just any grad school, either. Only my dream grad school in one of my favorite cities on earth.


Ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to the London School of Economics. You may have guessed from the name (but a surprising number of people don't make the connection), but it's in London: London as in the capital of both England and the United Kingdom.



Guess who's going back to Europe this fall!

But yeah, any way, I have a conditional acceptance for the MA History of International Relations, the only conditions being that I, you know, actually graduate, and that I do so with a 3.5 overall, which I think is doable but really, finite math might thwart me yet. I decided that I don't really want History of International Relations so I've applied to change my degree to MSc Political Sociology, but even if I don't get in, I don't lose my original acceptance.

Song of the year:


Living the dream.

262,800 Minutes

Everything I said about measuring my time in a place and not knowing how to say goodbye... It's crap, total and complete crap, because to quote from No Country for Old Men, you can't stop what's coming. Sooner or later, those last 17 hours in Prague were going to pass and I'd be in line to check in with my 50 kg of luggage and 12 hours later I'd be in the States dismayed by the horrifically ugly people and the ugly accents and the ugly lack of culture. All good things come to an end, I guess. I couldn't stay in Prague forever. Does distance make the heart grow fonder? I feel like I left a bit of myself over in the Czech Republic. I feel like such a mess because everybody's study abroad experience has to come to an end because then it wouldn't be special. I don't know why I'm taking it worse than others. Am I? I have no idea.

So how do I measure six months? In friendships, in classes, in traveling, in new experiences and new places and new lessons, new books and new crises. Prague may frustrate me to death but I love it with every fiber of my being, and I'll miss it just as much. Na shledanou, Prague. It's been surreal.

Song of the century:

Survivor: Prague

So I have around 17 hours left in Prague, and despite this summer pretty much sucking, I'm really profoundly sad about leaving this city. It's been my home for six months and even though I currently associate it with stress and exhaustion and drama, it's my home. For better or for worse, I know this city better than I know Miami, Coral Springs, or Coral Gables... maybe even New York at this point. The thing is, unlike when I left in May, I have no idea when I'll be back. Maybe next year if I'm lucky? Who knows. I'm walking around and trying to take it all in, but who knows if it'll stick. I've been on the verge of tears all day and even the smallest normalcy makes me emotional. It's also rainy and brutally hot, but that's Prague for you.

I did well on my two finals and my two term papers, but I've been busting my ass all week trying to do my 20-page paper on the German annexations of 1938. That's meant a ton of nights in the Globe downing coffee and contemplating offing myself. I haven't had a chance to properly enjoy this city, well, ever. Since I leave tomorrow, I had to get my affairs in order today... which means I'm not allowed to have fun since final Czech purchases must be made and belongings packed and rooms cleaned and packages mailed.

It's not like I'd know how to say goodbye to Prague anyway. To steal from Rent, how do you measure your time in a city? In bars, in cafes, in restaurants or tourist attractions? I'm so sick of Old Town Square that I could puke, and Wenceslas never really did it for me. I'll miss the familiarity, the excitement, the foreignness, and the novelty of it all. I'll miss the classes and the professors - the best I've ever had. I won't miss the stress, but I'm proud of what I've written and accomplished here. I might even go as far as saying that I've learned a bit about myself too.

So Amanda and I are the last ones here from Spring 2010, Erasmus and American groups included, and I feel like we've won a cracked-out version of Survivor: Prague. Do I win a million dollars... or at least a return ticket?

The Beach Boys say it perfectly:

Prague, I love you but get me the fuck out of here.

Three weeks in...

I know I've been slacking with the blog but I've been a little (a lot?) stressed. Taking three classes over the course of four weeks may have been a pretty bad idea, but I'm now in the trenches and attempting to make it out. No one really needs a daily update on my life (I slept! I ate! I got sick! I drank!), so I'll just give you the highlights of my summer in Prague.

THE WORLD CUP
Be still, my sports-hating heart. I know everyone who reads this knows I can't stand athletics in any form, but for some reason, I fall head-over-heels in love with the World Cup every four years. Maybe it's the fact that soccer/football is the one sport I've ever played, or maybe it's the fact that it lets me embrace my inner nationalist, but I live for the World Cup. I have vivid memories of sneaking off to watch matches during camp in 2006 (as my wife Ori Levy reminded me, the vivid memories are of us almost getting fired because we preferred to watch David Beckham over actually dealing with our campers. Sweet memories). Now, six hours ahead, I've gotten pretty lucky in that I've been able to make it to 90% of the matches I care about.

Hyundai set up a Fan Park in the middle of Old Town Square, which, for better or for worse, means I always knew what was happening. It was nice to not have to schlep out to a bar or something to watch. Amanda and I caught some of the daytime games at Riegrovy Sady, a lovely beer garden out in Prague 3, but most of our time was spent in Old Town.


The Dutch invaded Prague and let me join their ranks.

So yeah, I cheered for England and then they got rightfully crushed, and I cheered for Germany and then they got unfairly beaten, and then I went all the way for Holland and they lost in overtime. Maybe my support is the kiss of death. Who knows. But anyway, the World Cup let me make a lot of new friends and we bonded over our shared hatred of Germany... Argentina... Spain... and Spain again. It's a lovely thing.

LUCERNA
Lucerna holds 80s/90s night every weekend. Amanda and I have made it a tradition of pregaming, attending, and running shit. Because we can.

DRESDEN
I'm not sure what mental state we were in, but last Saturday morning, over a pathetically large breakfast feast at McDonald's, Amanda and I decided that it was a brilliant idea to go to Germany for the day. Her sister was there and I just wanted to see the west because for better or for worse, Prague is still kind of behind the Iron Curtain. We were still kind of buzzed when we bought the tickets and boarded the train, and it took a 2.5-hour-long train ride, riding backwards with no air at all, to sober up. Still, though, very glad we went-- Dresden is a lovely city and seeing my beloved American Apparel was wonderful. We even caught bits and pieces of the Germany-Uruguay game, which is kind of a half-assed version of my dream of going to Berlin for the final game had they made it to the end. Dresden for the third-place game is a bit of a cop-out, I guess.

MARRIAGE
I got engaged to my Italian friend Fede at his going-away party. Our love will forever be cemented by our wedding dance to "Single Ladies." Well, he liked it, and he put a grimy string ring on it at a grimy club. Fede, love, because I know you read my blog from time to time-- CALL ME. I want to come to Venezia in a week or so for our honeymoon. I want to make it happen.

SCHOOL
I'm going to quote Lady Gaga on this one:
"She's a mess. Now the girl is stressed. She's a mess. She's a mess. She's a mess. She's a mess."

One week left! Will I go to Munich? Brussels? Venice? Or will I actually stay in this painfully hot city and work? Only time will tell...

prague i love you but you're bringing me down