Adventures in Departure

I'm home. But how I (and the rest of my travel party) got there is quite a tale.

I guess I have to start off with the fact that my school is not always so great with stuff. This time, that stuff was a date, namely the date that my fellow Arcadia students and I were to make our way home. We had been told since the beginning that the last day of the term, including the exam period, was June 11th. From this, we concluded that the last day of test-taking would be June 11th, and therefore, to avoid being stressed during an exam we might have on that day, we should leave on the twelfth. As many people have pointed out in the last few weeks, the eleventh was in fact a Saturday, and they wonder why we thought we might have an exam on that day. To this, I give the explanation that we were entering into a foreign exam system. Who knows if they had finals on Saturdays? They do that in America occasionally.
However odd our judgement might have seemed, those of us who decided to stay the entire term booked our flight home for the twelfth. This was all fine and dandy until Laura heard from her flatmates that all students were to vacate the residence halls on the eleventh. She e-mailed a few people and the answer that finally came basically said that, though it was our fault and not theirs, QMUL would allow us to stay on campus an extra day. Good job, Arcadia.

Thankfully, no matter what decision was made, I had a place to stay. Adrienne did, as well, since, because she was on the same flight as me, she was staying at the flat the night before and then coming with us to the airport. We had collected one of her suitcases earlier, but the plan for her and the rest of her suitcases was to take a taxi to our flat and then all would be well. Unfortunately, another cab service proved themselves worthless, as I mentioned in my last entry. Adrienne texted me at 8:30 saying that she was still waiting for a cab. We texted back and forth, me offering to come and get her and her saying that it was fine, she'd manage to get a cab. An hour later though, she still hadn't found one. Even worse was the fact that she used up all of the money on her phone calling the crap cab service, which left our conversation without a conclusion. I didn't know where she was, whether it was at the school or outside of our flat, and she couldn't tell me if she had gotten a cab or not. Of course we didn't want her waiting for a cab all night, especially since the East End is not exactly the bext place for a girl with many suitcases to be waiting alone. So my dad and I decided to go and find her. If she made it to the flat, Mom could let her in. If she was still at the uni, then we could help her take her stuff to the flat.
But the universe was not on our side. Two of the closest tube stations were closed, and we had to get a bus, which is slower (though, at least in our case, not much.) I had thought I would go by myself, but I was grateful that my dad had come along. When we finally got to the campus gates, we hopped off the bus and across the street I saw Adrienne waiting with all of her bags, Laura at her side. I shouted over to her and my dad and I crossed the street over to them. They had been trying to flag down a cab (which generally involved Laura running into the street and waving her arms around), but no one had stopped. We all tried to flag down the next few cabs, but not only were they few and far between, the ones we did see had their lights off. Eventually, we saw one coming down the opposite side of the road and Dad put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Amazingly, the driver heard him, pulled a U-turn, and picked us up.

That, thankfully, was the end of that night's drama, and there wasn't really much surrounding the airport, either. When I saw the sign for Heathrow, I started getting a little teary, as it meant I was really leaving my adopted country. After some rearranging, all of the family bags passed the weight inspection (even my carry-on that held at least fifteen books and a teapot/cup.) Because I had booked my ticket separate from everyone, I was sitting on my own. Of course, I had seatmates, and the two people sitting nearest to me were an older Japanese couple. They were very angry. Besides being displeased that they were sitting in the middle of a four-person row, they were also livid that they were put next to an apparently teenage girl. If looks could kill, I would be dead from the glares they were giving me as they muttered to each other in Japanese. They did this until they realised that I, sitting quietly reading, was not the problem passenger- they were. It was after they made me get up and down to let them out several times and dropping their belongings on my head that they started to warm up to me. After that, they didn't bother with me except to try to watch what I was watching over my shoulder, apparently unaware that they could watch the same thing without craning their necks on their own video screen.

Besides that, the flight was quite nice, and while it was long, there were some good documentaries offered, which I watched the entire time. After we went through all of the security and baggage claim, we came out the arrivals gate to see Adrienne's family with a GIANT "Welcome Home" sign. I'm very happy that I'll at least get to see one of my friends from England at school :)

After a three hour drive home, we pulled into the driveway at 4 a.m. GMT (London time.) We all pretty much collapsed into bed, but we all woke up before seven. I, however, am not fooled by jet lag's evil ways. I've heard it take a day for every hour difference to recover, and if that's the case, then I'll still have a cold medicine buzz feeling until next Sunday. Today I fell victim to a nap- I hate sleeping period, but sleeping during the day is something I avoid at all costs. However, since I was afraid I might fall off the steps when I descended them, I thought it might be best. As of now, I am very tired and feeling incredibly nostalgic about London.

It's funny the things I got used to without realising it. For example, I didn't think the English accent had become so familiar to me. Obviously, I was hearing it more often than usual, but between my constant exposure to British movies/audio books and the fact that ninety percent of the people I regularly hung out with were American, I didn't think my situation had changed much. That is, until I was shocked that both the bus driver and the lady behind the counter at the hotel had American accents. I genuinely did a mental double take at the sounds of their accents. I guess I was just used to everyone around me speaking a certain way, even if those I was conversing with didn't sound like that.
I was also surprised to see the side the driver's seat was on. This was another weird observation, as up until my very last day in London, I still hadn't gotten used to the driver sitting on the right. Yet when I saw the seat on the left, I was momentarily confused. Also, random observation from the drive home: we have so many shopping malls/outlets here. It's really ridiculous.

Besides combating jet leg, today has been spent unpacking as much as possible. I'm nearly done, but in addition to unpacking from London, I also have a bit left over from fall term at Arcadia. I will not be tackling that today. In other news, my laptop has grown very tired from all of the traveling and has decided not only to refuse WiFi, but also to present a myriad of other problems that are resulting in it being sent away for computer surgery... again.

Now, my bed is calling my name. Sadly, it's covered in stuff...

I'm Going to be One of Those Lame People, Aren't I?

Whenever people get back from long trips and people ask them, "So what was it like to spend six months living in Big Exciting Place?", the person being asked tends to stammer for a few second before finally spitting out, "...It was pretty cool. Yeah. Cool." And then everyone stares at them like they're dumb.

That will be me when I return. I am warning you all right now, and perhaps that will cut down on the staring. See, I was one of the starers when the travelers would say stuff like that, but now that I am the traveler, I think I get it.

It's not that I haven't had amazing and life-changing experiences here. You've read this blog; you know I have. But I think that when you're asked what the experience was like as a whole... how do you begin to describe five months (not six, Border Patrol Lady) abroad? The person who asks me may want to know what it was like, but they don't want to hear me recite this entire blog. So I expect that I, too, will be the utterer of an eloquent answer such as, "It was...really good. England is very... English." Of course, that doesn't cover anything, but how does one do that? I feel like I should prepare a binder or flashcards or something, so when people inevitably ask me, "So how was your time abroad?" I can just open up to a table of contents and say, "What would you like to hear about? The time I couldn't find food in Wales? The tour I took through the countryside? How about all the times I was threatened with deportation? I talk about the school system on page one twenty-three, if you're interested."

I think that's actually a big reason why I started this blog, besides the fact that I just enjoy blogging. I wanted to keep people updated on what I was doing here so they could actually hear about the experience, not listen to me stutter untrue rumors like "It rains a lot there. No sun. Grey skies always," when I get back, just because it's the only thing I can think to say and I know it will satisfy the England-y pictures in their minds.

You know, now that I'm thinking about this, I'm considering having some business cards printed up that list the highlights of my trip. It will save us all the brainache of my senseless babbling and there will be no staring. I think this sounds like a plan, don't you?

"Rediscover Yourself."

This is what I was told by a lot of people before I came to England, or some variant of the phrase. My playwriting professor added at the end of his review of my final project, "There is so much to see and do in London. Explore, explore, explore. You will come back a different person."

I have been thinking about the idea that London will change me, and I realised that I still don't know what that means. What am I meant to be changing? Is it a conscious thing? Will it be? Should it? Am I supposed to be making my choices based on the fact that it might change me as a person? That sounds like it could be dangerous.

As I said, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be changing. I know I need to be braver in general. Coming here was a step in that direction I hope- I was as terrified as I was excited to come to England. But now that I'm here and in love with the city, am I changing? Am I rediscovering? Is settling into a routine bad? (Well, either way, I'll be fixing that in five days when school lets out.)

But I suppose change is not necessarily synonymous with rediscovery. To discover is "to see, get knowledge of, learn of, find, or find out; gain sight or knowledge of something previously unseen or unknown." So... I have to do this? See, gain knowledge of, learn of, find, gain sight or knowledge of, myself?

I almost typed, "How will I know if I'm doing this right?" but then realised that there's probably not a right way to do this. Perhaps this is also a step up, being able to see the problem in that statement, as I'm generally always concerned with getting everything perfect. I don't think it's possible to rediscover perfectly.

I guess I just want to be able to tell if I'm doing what I was instructed to do. I don't want to go back to the people who told me this and have them say, "You haven't changed at all." Then again, there are parts of myself that I don't want to change. But that could be part of the problem, too, I guess. I hold on very tightly to things.

*sigh* This is what happens when I do analytical assignments late at night. I start to think. What are your thoughts on this? I would be interested to hear them (and I'm not necessarily talking about how they pertain to me. Just in general :) )

Things I Miss

So while I still haven't been homesick yet, there are definitely things I'm missing about being home/at my American school. I've already talked a lot about theatre and the school system, so I'm going to leave those off the list. Here are a few other things I miss:

1) My family. Like I've said before, one of the reasons I think I haven't gotten homesick is because by now, I'm used to living away from home for nine months out of the year, so that's not much different. What is different is not being able to be in constant contact with them. I'm a big texter, and especially my first few weeks here, I had to stop myself short of taking a picture of something random to send to my mom, dad, or sister to send to them because, well, I couldn't (unless I wanted to offer up my first-born child as payment.) And I definitely miss being just a train ride away from my hometown, allowing me to go home almost whenever I want. I can't wait 'til they get here in June!

2) While we're on the subject of phones... my beautiful, lovely, reliable American cell phone. I miss the fact that the screen can be turned off so buttons aren't constantly hit if I so much as breathe. I miss the size (my British phone is so tiny, I hate it.) I miss the memo section, where I had lists of books and plays I wanted to get, movies I wanted to see, and funny things people said, since I never remember those later. I miss the calendar function. My mobile (like my Britishism use?) technically has this ability, but it's not even close to my American phone. At home, if it's not in my phone, it doesn't happen. My life is scheduled on that device. My American phone also actually makes calls. My British phone? Not so much. I usually have to dial a number at least three times before the call with go through, and I do mean dial, because the phone also doesn't save any recently dialed phone numbers. Nor does it keep track of missed calls. I guess this is what you get for thirty five pounds, but not a day goes by that I don't pine for my sturdy blue calendar-and-list toting American cell phone.


3) Rita's. The other day was free Rita's water ice day all over America, and man, did I want some! But I did find out today that there is an ice cream truck that goes up and down the road I live on. I was ridiculously excited; I've never lived in a place where an ice cream truck drives around. So of course, I had to test it out.

The soft serve here is better than at home because it's lighter but with just as much flavor. A lot of the time, they stick a Flake bar in it (which, if you don't know what it is, looks like a stick. The first time I got ice cream here, I was really confused as to why they had put a stick in my dessert.) When I got my cone today, they offered to put syrup on it, which I thought was a bit weird.

4) Target. Primark is okay, but Target cannot be beaten. I think even if I were a millionaire, I'd probably still shop at Target. That's how much I love it. I mean, seriously- Chanel doesn't sell DVDs OR have a dollar section.

5) My parents' cooking/my meal plan. The latter is kind of followed by a question mark, but even though I'm really glad I've learned how to cook here, I'm still pretty limited in my skills. I pretty much make the same five things over and over again, and sometimes I'd just like to change it up, but don't have the skills.

6) Having a roommate. Seriously. Not all the time, of course. There are times, like when I want to listen to music or watch a nerdy tv show/movie, that I appreciate not having to wear headphones, but it also gets kind of lonely... and this is coming from someone who is all right being on her own most of the time. I miss being able to just turn around and talk to someone. It's especially hard coming from two roommates in a row who I was very close with and talked to all the time, about everything.

7) The school theatre community. Not the same as theatre in general! I miss having classes with the same people (well... certain people excluded) and Cabaret Club and costume sales on the lawn outside the theatre. I miss being able to walk down to the theatre trailer and just hang out, or go down there and ask a professor about anything from classes to advice on acting or personal problems (though I've never done the latter, I know many people do.) I'm especially missing being able to just go and talk to my advisor in person, since his e-mail replies are proving rather slow, and it's class choosin' time.

8) Knowing which stores to go to. It's very odd to realise that you need something- band-aids, shoe polish, hair ties, pens, batteries- and not instantly knowing where to get them.

9) My books. My books, my books, my books. I miss them so much. I'm so glad I have an e-reader, or I'd be going even crazier.

10) Snacks. When I'm at school, I'll sometimes grab a 100 calorie pack or something between classes, but they honestly don't have snacks readily available, unless it's more of a candy. It took me forever to find granola bars.


Only one more week of school left! I "finished" by history essay (I'm letting it sit so I can read it over and edit it later), I got a B+ on my Proof essay (not as good as I'd've liked, but a pretty good grade here), and hopefully I'll get my other theatre one done over the next few days-it's not due 'til next Wednesday.

Until all of that is done, this is my motto:

Gives a person some perspective :p


EDIT: Also, Britain does this charity thing called Comic Relief, and lots of celebrities take part in it every year. I found this video because Keira Knightley is in it, and it's very funny, so you should watch it. In the name of charity, of course :p

Packages and Theatre Snobs

While I did not have a significant other with whom to spend Valentine's Day, I did get a V-Day gift of sorts today! I came back from my RT class to find a large box sitting by my door. I knew it was the package my mom had sent to me, but I was unaware of the awesomeness of its contents. Behold, readers, a box to make any Valentine's Day a good one:

In this box were wonderful things like calling cards, candy hearts, potato chips that are actually potato flavored (it's really hard to find plain ones here), Pop Tarts (unfrosted, 'cause frosted is just gross), a pot holder, Apples to Apples, my copy of Peter Pan for playwrighting reference, graham crackers (you know the story about those), animal crackers (also can't get those here), instant breakfast drinks, chocolate straw thingymajiggers, yummy cereal that's hard to find even at home, some pictures of my own face (...I needed some more headshots, okay?), gum (I could own Violet Beauregarde in gum chewing), and... FRINGE SEASON ONE!!! (I am obsessed with this TV show but do not own any of the DVDs... or didn't! I actually went, "Oh. My. God. Yeeessssss!" when I saw them. I've already watched two episodes [one with commentary] and a bunch of behind the scenes stuff.)

This lovely box made me feel a little better after RT. It's definitely my least favorite class. I really enjoy the seeing shows factor, but the big problem is that I think my classmates believe that to enjoy a show means that you're somehow intellectually beneath those who didn't, so they declare that they hate every show. This isn't everyone, but it's most of the class. I don't understand how, with the shows ranging from Shakespeare, opera, experimental theatre, classic stories, adaptations of classic plays, and a farce-y musical, they couldn't pick out one show that they liked. I liked all of them, and most of them aren't the type of theatre I'd usually go to see. While I may be a theatre snob, the prescription of all of these shows is curing me of that, and they seem to refuse to do the same. As I wrote, I thought Water was brilliant, but I walked into class to people insulting it without taking breath. When I sat down, they asked me what I thought. "I loved it, actually," I answered. I really wish people would be more open-minded, at least for this class. We can all go back to our snobby ways once we're out, but this term, I'd really like to have an RT class where there's not a fog of negativity blanketing the room.

Tomorrow night I'm seeing Frankenstein at the National Theatre. I think I'm going to get there a little early, as they have an awesome bookshop attached to it; I bought many plays when I was there with my theatre posse in March of 2009. And Wednesday, I'm seeing The Children's Hour, which I get more excited for by the hour. I love theatre!

Pre-Homesickness

Well... maybe "homesickness" isn't the right word. But since I've just hit the halfway mark in the fall semester, I've been thinking a lot about the stuff that will come to an end in about two months- and a more permanent end than I've experienced in the past two years.

For instance, last Tuesday, my suitemate Sara celebrated her 20th birthday and most of our suite and some other friends went out to eat and then just hung out in our common room. I just met Sara and another suitemate, Chanelle, at the end of August, but I've been thinking how sad I'll be to leave our rooms. It'll be just as hard not to see Danielle, who lives with me, too, and hardest of all to not see Kara, my roommate, when I wake up in the morning.

It's weird to think that Arcadia won't just freeze and wait for me. I want to do my semester in both places; there's so much going on! The spring theatre season at my school is great, with some wonderful directors and a good amount of parts. A lot of my friends will be graduating. I'll miss a ton of summer auditions. Books I want are being released. I can't go home whenever I want. I can't participate in the workshop I was offered.

BUT. At the same time, I REALLY want to go to England. I think I've already mentioned what a lifelong dream this is, and I'm as excited as I am nervous about studying abroad. Yes, I'll miss a lot of stuff while I'm there, but I'm not even aware of what I'll be missing if I just decide to be safe and stick with what I know. While I am sad that I'll miss the spring plays (and seeing my friends in them), England is the land of THEATRE- there will be plays there. There will still be summer auditions when I go home. There's Skype. I have an e-reader for a reason. My entire family's coming to visit me in May/June. And there are other workshops. Plus, I made sure that I got two shows this semester just in case I didn't get to be in a production in England.

So while I'm quite nervous about what my five months in England will be like, I get excited every time I look at the school website or talk to someone about the program, and I think that's a sign that I should go, no matter what great things will be going on at home without me!