... as a research assistant at Princeton

I had no real idea what the job entailed, but I envisioned long days stuck in the darkest depths of Firestone. After spending last summer in Sydney, Australia, as an intern for the city's film festival, I thought that a summer on campus could be nothing but a letdown. How could I pursue my passion for movies here? Once I met with Professor Levin, however, I realized this was not the typical research job. The ever-upbeat professor said he hoped to harness my "encyclopedic" knowledge of movies to expand his archive of surveillance in pop culture. As his assistant, he wanted me to view and report on films, looking for any instances of surveillance. This I could do ... and with gusto!

Professor Levin and the German department agreed to pay me $15 per hour. I went from not having an internship to hitting the jackpot. After recovering from my initial glee, I created a list of 50 movies I thought contained surveillance in some way. The list included everything from serious dramas with Julia Roberts to over-the-top comedies like "Superbad." With my professor's ok, I began my weeks of paid movie viewing at Princeton.

In my mind, I like to envision myself living the charmed existence of a bon vivant, where a cappuccino is never too far away. My office of choice reflected this philosophy, as I worked not in Firestone but in our local cafes. Though I hit old standbys like Starbucks and Small World, this was the summer that I discovered Chez Alice. The Palmer Square bakery had always enticed me, but it never offered a coffee that I found irresistible. That is, until I discovered its mocha frappe. This little number blows away any of the frappuccinos offered at Starbucks. With this drink and one of Alice's almond croissants, I was ready to watch and report on hours of movies. Slowly but surely, I exhausted the DVD catalog of the University and the Princeton Public Library while sipping cups of java.

Another reason for working on Nassau Street - besides my overpowering hedonism - was that the Princeton bubble seems even more isolating during the summer. The sense of emptiness was especially pronounced since I was the one student housed in Whitman College. Walking down the empty corridors of Fisher Hall, I felt like Will Smith in "I Am Legend": the only man alive in sight.

To combat this isolation, some students and I hosted almost daily film screenings in either Butler or Rocky. We immersed ourselves in films, sometimes watching a filmmaker's entire oeuvre over the course of a week. Of course, whenever I saw any surveillance in these movies, I rewarded myself $30 for working overtime. During my down time, I watched and talked about movies. When I worked, I watched and wrote about them. All in all, it was not a bad way to spend the summer.

Though definitely not as exotic as my sojourn in Sydney, my summer in Princeton let me extensively refine and cultivate my critical abilities by continually watching and thinking about films. All the while, I had a blast discovering movies I would have never otherwise seen. When I told my professor of the great time I was having, he smiled and said, "In academia, the line between work and fun often blurs." After spending my summer vacation in Princeton, I learned the truth behind those words.