I HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRAPE WINE

I wish I could write that all was well and school was fantastic, but that wouldn’t be telling the truth. And my mother taught me to always tell the truth.  Okey, drama queen! Everything is well, we’re healthy and ATM very sport., and I’m not going to make a huge cry-me-a-river post on my miserable London life. But f*ck this is hard. And by this, I mean school.

I enjoy it. Some of it at least. Like when the lecturers refer to us as “ladies and gentlemen” or “my lovelies”. But the language is much harder than I expected. Not talking to people in general, but the 100-year-old book English. And the history of journalism reading list, which consists of 29 books, is hard. And the politic part. But that’s probably because I really don’t have a care in the world for politics.

So be it! No whining (just some). Yesterday we celebrated Halloween, which was very fun. I went to a pre-party with a good, old friend of mine – and we had heaps of fun, even though there was a fire and some drama, but it all worked out fine. I was a dead, but happy bride, and much so because I actually managed to fool some of my friends in believing I was getting married. Can’t a girl own a wedding dress? O.M.G.

Nevertheless, I’m not getting married any time soon - just to get that cleared out.  I have now escaped the 23 squares that is our apartment, and I’m now crawled up in a corner of the closest, most cosy café in not more than two wool sweaters. Yes, the cold has arrived London as well. Last night I was an ice cube on my way home and if the night bus had arrived 10 minutes later I would probably have gotten a cab home. Good thing I didn’t – I couldn’t really afford it. Hah, the big international student problem.

But Q – when I’m studying journalism in London: is it right to be more inspired by a random café than any of my lectures? I wish I had more time to experience the city instead of being overloaded with books to read, but I guess that’s university. I haven’t been to Tim Walker for Mulberry or The Little Black Jacket for Chanel yet. Not National Portrait Gallery or Tate either. Some fashion friend, please come find me.