Best year ever.

2005 began for me in London, dancing happily with a group of strangers. I remember thinking this is the most incredible night of my life. Being cynical, I wondered whether the rest of the year go downhill from there. That wasn't the case at all. Within the past 12 months, I have had countless amazing and unforgettable experiences – the most eye-opening of which was a trip to the Middle East, the most adventurous of which was two weeks of backpacking through France and Spain. I have lived in London, spent time with amazing people from all over the world, and have been in ten different countries in this year alone.

But travelling to new places and meeting new people doesn't make someone successful or even mean that they were deserving of the opportunity in the first place. Now, at the dawn of 2006 I have returned to Atlanta, ready to begin a new stage of my life. All that remains of 2005 are the memories and knowledge that I have gained. I am now faced with the task of reflecting on the awesome opportunities I have been given and, somehow, to figure out how to make the most of what I have learned.

Before coming to London, I decided that I wanted to take the experiences I have been blessed with and use them to benefit others. As of right now, I haven't figured out how to effectively do that. Yes, I volunteered while I was overseas, but that was only temporal. It seems that, considering the large scale of the experiences I have had, whatever I come up with should have the potential of considerable magnitude.

If there is anything I learned during the past year, it is to dream big. I know that sounds cliché and trite, but it's surprising at how powerful believing in yourself and your abilities can be. My biggest weakness in life has always been a low self-esteem. Whether on the soccer field or applying for colleges, I faithfully played the role of My Own Worst Enemy and continuously sabotaged myself. I can't exactly pinpoint when the change in attitude began, but I finally learned to love myself. Since then, I have continually surprised myself with what I am capable of. Most importantly, I am now excited about my future, instead of fearful.

Saying goodbye to 2005 will be tough. From its exciting beginning, the year held countless surprises for me. For once, it seemed like the good times significantly outweighed the bad. I met many amazing people, most of whom I've had to part ways with, and have had a tantalizing glimpse of the world. I must remind myself not to dwell on the goodbyes, but rather to celebrate the fact that I got to say hello in the first place.

2006, I'm ready.

Home for the holidays

Yes, I already want to be back in London. Of course, I terribly miss the friends I've made, especially those I left behind. Without a doubt, I know that it will be tough to not romanticize the experiences I had overseas.

That all being said, I'm very happy to be home for the holidays. I'm not taking things for granted, and everything feels strangely foreign yet familiar. Spending time with my wonderful family is exactly what I wanted, and seeing old friends is a great comfort.

My mind is still racing with thoughts, and I can't fully express my thoughts on London or my semester abroad. I do miss it though.

This is a distraction from writing essays.

When I stop and think about my life, my heart begins to race. I am infinitely blessed. I can’t even begin to summarize what this experience has meant to me, nor can I fully comprehend so. I can’t accurately describe my feelings for London, or travelling, or even give a good description of what it means to be British. All I can honestly say in retrospect is that the past four months have resulted in the most character-building and priceless period of my life. I expected to come into this and learn all about the world and different cultures. While that definitely happened, I also learned and discovered a great deal about myself. If I have gained anything from this experience, it’s clarity. I have begun to see and understand what is truly important in life and what I want to do with mine. For that, I am extremely grateful.

On Sunday, I will get on a plane headed over 4,000 miles away and finally return home. It will mark the end of the greatest experience of my life, and the beginning of yet another exciting stage. In a way, Sunday could be the best day of my life. It hasn’t even begun yet. It carries infinite possibilities and glimpses of what the future holds. Sunday only brings me one step closer to realizing how the past four months have impacted me.

As for today, I am finding it harder to say goodbye to people than I ever imagined. I figured that one of the most difficult things about studying abroad would be saying goodbye and leaving home for so long. That’s not true; because, no matter how hard the goodbye, you take solace in the fact that you will return. Today, however, I can’t say comforting things like “It won’t seem that long,” or “We’ll see each other soon enough.” To be honest, I probably won’t see many of the people that I’ve met ever again. That’s the problem with meeting people from all over: they’re easy to fall in love with, but difficult to stay in touch with.

But, once again, I realize how fortunate I am. During the next two days I will be surrounded by friends, acknowledging how much we mean to each other. Following that, I will be greeted at the airport by family and my all-time favorite guy. To be loved by such amazing people on two different continents is a blessing indeed.

Goodnight everyone. Tomorrow is a new day.

Reflections

In retrospect, I'm really glad I decided to keep this online journal. I decided to make it fairly accessible to people, and realized that I was writing to a diverse audience. Not only has The Return Trip been a great way to update multiple people on my experiences here, it has given me a way to reflect on everything.

Once I get home, I will undoubtedly miss traveling and living in London. I will miss the friends I've met and the endless adventures we've had. Fortunately, I can always read this journal and remember how blessed I am.

Although I won't write here nearly as often as I have since arriving overseas, I plan to revisit this journal from time to time, for travel-related stories or musings. And, of course, if I ever wind up living overseas again, I may return to frequent updates.

With less than a week remaining until I leave, I wanted to thank everyone who kept in touch via inspiring emails or comments. Thank you for reading this blog in the first place. Knowing that there were people back home who cared about me and supported my actions made my time overseas that much more enjoyable. Because of you, returning to the States doesn't seem that bad after all.

Expect a long, rambling post (or two) before I leave. Do not, however, expect it to even come close to accurately or coherently summing up the past four months.

Am I ready to leave or not? It's such a bizarre feeling to be torn between two places that are so far apart. Conflicted doesn't seem like a strong enough word in this case.

Conflicting views of success

In terms of school work, I have wasted the past two days. In terms of having a good time and making memories that last, I've been extremely productive.

Hopefully, I can achieve a good balance of the two extremes during my last week here. I have 3 1/2 essays left to write, and quite a few plans with friends.

Yesterday, I went to the London Zoo with a group of friends. We spent the entire day there and had a wonderful time. Later that evening, Middlesex's Christmas party was cancelled because of problems with the heat, so an impromptu party happened instead. The entire day made me realize how much I'm going to miss my British mates.

Today was mostly spent in bed, unfortunately. I will get some work done tonight. Planning on another day in the British Library tomorrow.

Jason's on the top of my list of those I'm going to miss. We've already made plans to see each other, in the States and England. I'm determined to make it happen.

p.s. The snake was an excellent purchase from the zoo.

Allure, unexplained.

It's no secret that I have fallen in love with this city. It's frustrating to discover that I can't accurately describe what makes London so great or properly summarize what the city means to me.

After a few fruitless attempts at trying to describe this great city, I decided to resort to the words of Samuel Johnson, a man far more eloquent than me:

“When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life;

for there is in London all that life can afford.”

Though he was speaking about London in the 18th-century, things haven't changed. If anything, his words are more truthful today. I do love London. I will miss the city itself more than anything else. Maybe I'll attempt to write about this amazing place when I’m not so overwhelmed.

Time is slipping by so quickly. Instead of spending my last weeks -- days! -- enjoying London, I've been holed up in a library surrounded by books and papers like virtually every other over-burdened college student in the world. Fortunately, I'm not letting procrastination or writer's block get the best of me. I'm determined to salvage a little personal time for friends and the city I adore before I go.

Tomorrow, I've decided to multitask and work in the British Library instead of the suffocating one here on campus. Although I'll still be writing papers, I'll be surrounded by millions and millions of amazing books, in one of the world's greatest libraries. Plus, if I need a study break, I can check out some original Beatles manuscripts or Leonardo da Vinci's notebook. Brilliant.

Damn. I'm going to miss this city.

It's all in how you look at it, baby.

Dublin wasn't the most spectacular city I've been to at all. The weather was awful, and there were times that I longed for the days of traveling solo. That being said, I still enjoyed myself. While Dublin is hardly the biggest or prettiest or most charming city in the UK, it's a great place to visit because of the people. I love the Irish. They're friendly, fun-loving, and know how to make the best of any situation.

Peter and I spent hours in small pubs enjoying traditional Irish music and watching locals dance. Within a few minutes of arriving at the first pub, I saw two men in kilts, countless people drinking Guinness and dancing, and a band complete with banjo, fiddle, guitar, bodhran and flute. It's interesting to go to a new place and discover what misconceptions and uneducated stereotypes you had. Sometimes, it's even more interesting to see stereotypes actually exist.

Although I'd hardly qualify myself as a fan of Guinness, the extensive brewery tour gave me a new respect for the beverage. Another highlight of the trip happened by chance yesterday afternoon, while Peter and I were wandering around looking for last-minute things to do. We went into the Christchurch Cathedral and, instead of having to pay the admission charge, we were treated to a free recital of Irish Christmas songs. Beautiful.

---

So, now I have less than two weeks remaining until I return home. I'm actually looking forward to it -- much more so than I expected to. I think Christmas is a perfect time to be coming home. Everything Christmas-related has definitely made me homesick and helped me realize that there's no substitute for family during the holidays. I've gotten the sweetest emails and messages from friends back home, and I'm really looking forward to moving into a new house.

There's no doubt that I will miss the people I've met here and that I will suffer from major London withdrawals. That being said, there's a lot to look forward to in Atlanta. Being here has made me realize how incredible my friends are back home and has given me a newfound appreciation for the States, Atlanta, and even the South.

Of course, I also don't have to be terribly sad because I know that -- if I am determined enough -- I will return to London someday. I haven't even begun to see and experience the world yet. This is just the beginning, kids.

Does it get any better than this?

I'm leaving for Dublin in an hour. My flatmate Peter and I will be there until Saturday night. It seems like I just got back from Amsterdam. I guess I did.

I actually got a lot accomplished during the past three days in London. I started working on a presentation and finished just in time for class this morning. I made it to both volunteering sessions this week, and conducted my second interview for my feature article. I also completed and mailed my application for an internship at The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. I'm not feeling necessarily confident in it, but that partly has to do with the fact that I'm completely unaware of what my competition is like.

Last night I was able to cross off two major items on my London to-do list. Emily and I went ice skating at Somerset House -- although it was crowded, the location was gorgeous and I miraculously didn't fall once. Afterwards, I rushed to meet Alex who surprised me earlier with an offer of a spare football ticket. Attending a football match was one thing I sadly figured I wouldn't be able to do while I was here, and I was so excited to get the chance to go. Even though the teams (Charlton and Blackburn) aren't hugely popular, the stadium was the biggest one I've ever been in to see a soccer game. The best part of the game was the fans -- the chanting, booing and enthusiasm were exactly as I expected. Although it was freezing and wet the entire time, I enjoyed every minute of the match.





Off to Ireland.

What am I going to do for entertainment when I get home?

Oh, Amsterdam

I wish I had more time in Amsterdam. That's my biggest complaint.

Other than far too little time to see and do everything we planned, Livy, Emily and I had a fantastic weekend in Amsterdam. Seeing Livy was great -- Thanksgiving really made me miss being back home, and spending time with a friend from Atlanta was the perfect remedy. We had planned to meet in Amsterdam months prior to our separate study abroad departures; it was surreal for the long-awaited reunion to finally happen.

Although Amsterdam isn't very big, we got hopelessly lost again and again (try navigating your way around canals and streets with names like Zanapaderkstokken). Unfortunately, due to our poor navigational skills and the fact that we had less than two days there, we didn't get to visit many major tourist sites -- missing the Anne Frank house was the biggest let down -- but we did make it to the Van Gogh and Rembrandt museums.

Amsterdam is such a bizarre and interesting city. As Livy noted, the fact that it isn't car-centric adds an entirely different feel to the place. Bikes dominate the streets, canals run alongside roads, and it's really difficult to tell when sidewalks end and bike lanes and tram tracks begin. All of the buildings are meticulously symmetrical although many of them are now leaning from age. Locals are really friendly and helpful. Instead of bars and streets being packed with drunk partiers, places are populated by chilled-out stoners, which creates an entirely different atmosphere. In the red-light district people walk past women clad only in underwear without batting an eye.

It seems like almost everything in Amsterdam is a little off, different for the sake of being different. While walking home last night we passed a garbage truck on the street. A man hopped off the back and, instead of emptying the trash can by dumping it into the back of the truck, he began to suck up the trash with a giant vacuum-like hose. It was the most bizarre, ingenious invention I'd ever seen being used in everyday life. That moment summed up Amsterdam perfectly for me.

It's easy to forget that some people come to Amsterdam for reasons other than drugs or sex, as it's become so associated with those vices. It's an absolutely gorgeous city. The canals are charming and reflect light beautifully. There are amazing museums and stunning buildings. Of course, social norms in Amsterdam are completely different, and it's extremely interesting to witness.

I just wish I had more time. A return trip, perhaps?

No pun intended. Haha.

Easy

It's not hard to come up with things I'm thankful for this year. The only regret I have is that I can't be with family to celebrate.

My flatmates and a few additional American students put together a lovely Thanksgiving feast tonight: turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, apple and pumpkin pie, green bean casserole, cheese and crackers, wine, gravy, salad, and mashed potatoes (my exciting contribution). It was a valiant effort, and I was glad to have friends to spend the evening with.

I'm leaving for Amsterdam in six hours. I need to go to bed, I suppose. Will update on my weekend once I return.

Happy Thanksgiving. I truly do miss everyone back home.

Another traveling song

Before I left for London, my boss at The Carter Center -- a man I have grown to completely respect and admire for his achievements and passion -- gave me some wonderful advice: "No matter what, don't get jaded." Having done his share of world travel, he told me that I would see endless breathtaking sights and visit countless incredible places. He told me to never, ever let myself say, "Oh, another castle."

With less than a month left until I return home, I'm incredibly pleased to say that I don't feel jaded at all. My heart still skips a beat every time I get a fantastic view of London, museums continue to inspire me, and I keep falling in love over and over again with beautiful parks and gardens. The more I see, the more I want to see. The more I experience, the greater my dreams become.

On Friday, I leave for Amsterdam. I'm traveling with Emily and meeting my friend Livy, who's been studying in Prague this semester. I haven't seen him since the summer and Amsterdam will be a surreal location for a reunion. Ever since my parents went, I've been dying to visit Amsterdam. A city organized by canals and populated by bicyles and symmetrical buildings is interesting enough -- when you add the fact that it's one of the most liberal cities in the world, it becomes irresistible. People joke about going to the Netherlands for a cultural experience, but I truthfully am looking forward to visiting some amazing museums. It should be an excellent weekend.

Tomorrow, of course, is Thanksgiving. I don't feel as homesick as I expected to, possibly because it's easy to forget what day it is when there aren't constant reminders around. That being said, I'll definitely miss home more than ever tomorrow. Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays, not because of the food or the football (hah), but because of the wholesome family time. Maybe it's because Thanksiving is less commericalized than Christmas, but the family gatherings seem somewhat less forced and more meaningful to me. (For family reading this, I better be mentioned at least once during the thankful alphabet.)

I feel like once I return to Georgia I'll want to stay put for a while. Traveling can get exhausting, and I've been fighting an overwhelming urge to call some place "home." Things may change, but I'm tentatively planning on staying at Georgia State (and, preferrably, in as few accommodations as possible) until graduation. After that, I'm itching to move to New York. No need to get ahead of myself, though.

The other side

I just re-read my September 23 entry, written one month after I arrived overseas. Today marks exactly one month until I return to Atlanta. Thinking about it makes me feel really conflicted, a bit sad, and somewhat nervous. I remember being more nervous about traveling on my own than I was studying abroad, and it seems really bizarre to be nervous about coming home.

When I think about it, though, my fears are substantiated. I have experienced (and have a month remaining of) an absolutely life-changing, invaluable, words-can't-do-it-justice time here. I have made so many incredible friends, become more confident and independent than I ever could imagine, and learned to trust and believe in myself. I have seen more of the world than I ever expected to in a lifetime, been exposed to an intoxicating mix of viewpoints and cultures, and seen how exciting and fulfilling life can be. I have learned a great deal about myself, gotten a glimpse of the future, and discovered who is trustworthy and truly important to me. I have matured, dealt with homesickness and heartbreak, and figured out how to make the most of bad situations.

My biggest fear is that I will lose all of this when I come home. Sure, I worry about missing London and being bored and uninspired in Atlanta. I worry that I won't make friends as easily as I did here. Most of all, though, I worry that all of this growing and experiencing may be lost when I return home. I will be moving to a new place when I return -- I have no idea where -- and will be in a semi-new environment. The environment here was completely new. Being in a familiar environment, but one where things and people have changed, seems unsettling.

Maybe I'm worrying about nothing. I do know that I need to focus on the here and now and make the most of my dwindling days. I've still got a sizeable list of things I want to do in London and have two major trips left before I leave. Know that I'm not complaining -- I have nothing in the world to complain about. I simply want this trip to have truly affected me for the better.

Decemberists tonight with Alex. Hooray.

Reasons to celebrate

My first overseas guest left today and I'll be welcoming another in less than a week. I really enjoyed the opportunity to play tour guide and despite a few wrong turns here and there, I think I did a good job showing Stevie around. We did and saw a lot, as evidenced by how many pictures we took.

Taken from atop the Monument, some 300 steps high.

I don't exactly get to rest yet, though. Tonight is my dear flatmate Emily's birthday. Some friends are coming over for cake and drinks tonight -- nothing big. I'm planning on taking her out for a special night later this week. Just planning for and thinking about Emily's birthday has made me realize how much she means to me. Out of all the friendships I've made here, I really hope this one lasts.

The biggest reason to celebrate, however, is Kerry's acceptance into Nottingham University. It seems like a lifetime ago, but I arrived in London a week before my solo travels to spend some time with Kerry, who was scoping out Nottingham as a potential graduate school. I was honored to also visit Nottingham and was extremely impressed with the beauty and prestige of the university. We met with the head of the Theology Department and, from then on, I knew Kerry was going to be accepted. Now it's official.

Interestingly enough, Kerry spent a summer studying in London and was part of my motivation to study abroad. Then, I decided to spend a semester here, and she felt inspired to consider graduate school. Now we're motivating and inspiring each other. Soon, I will have to return to the States, but she'll be coming to the UK for a full year. Truthfully, she's made my experience here so much more meaningful and enjoyable.

So, I guess this entry is devoted to Emily and Kerry, two amazing people in my life. Thanks for everything, girls.

Keeping it together

In a way, it seems like the world is falling apart. More appropriately, it seems like the world as I know it is suffering. Soon after arriving overseas, Hurricane Katrina ravaged and destroyed the city I was born in and love. Before coming here, London became another target of terrorist bombings, and the city is still coping with the aftermath. Paris, Bordeaux, and Toulouse -- the three cities I visited in France -- are in the midst of endless arson and riots. And now, Amman is the latest victim to Al-Qaeda. Ironically, Amman was the city where we sought refuge in the Middle East, the place where we could relax in a nice hotel just blocks from those where the bombs went off.

It seems that the more I get to know the world, it becomes increasingly beautiful and ugly. Life is bittersweet, indeed.

On a more personal note, I am dealing with an extremely emotionally-trying event. On the bright side, I feel as if I'm handling things in the best way possible. Something I have been anxious about is seeing how this time overseas has changed me and will impact my course in life. Based on my response and handling of things, I've already discovered that I have become emotionally stronger and, quite possibly, wiser in the past few months. I have learned to value myself, which was something I needed to learn to do ages ago.

I did, however, need to take a "mental health day," as my coworkers would have called it. I decided to nix the trip to Wales, instead relishing a day of rest and relaxation and devoting Sunday to Stevie's last full day in London. So far, we've seen and done quite a bit. He's on his own today -- I'm anxious to see how he does.

Quite glad I decided to slow down and take a day off. Otherwise, I'd probably hit an emotional and physical collapse mid-week. As it is, I still have a lot planned ahead. Stevie leaves Monday, I've got school and volunteering and catching up with friends to do and, Jessi, my next guest from Georgia, arrives Sunday.

A favorite picture from the past few days. It's gotten bitterly cold here (cold enough to snow!) and, for the most part, the weather has been cloudy and terribly typical of England. Fortunately, Wednesday was a surprisingly gorgeous day and I took plenty of pictures as proof.

My first overseas visitor arrives tomorrow. Stevie will be staying here almost a week -- I hope I show him a good time and simultaneously do London justice. I must admit, I'm quite excited to play tour guide.

I gave a presentation last week and just finished a related paper for my Popular Cultures class. Work, wow. I nearly forgot how to get in the right mindset. I think it turned out well.

Being one of three supervisors in a room of twenty rowdy toddlers is draining but I love the feeling it gives me. I don't know why I'm so drawn to volunteer opportunities like these, but I'm sure glad that I am.

I've had barely any time to send proper correspondence to people back home. If you, dear reader, are one of those people I'm referring to, please accept my most sincere apologies.

I'm just beginning to feel the squeeze of deadlines. Papers and schoolwork, yes, but the amount of exploring and experiencing that I want (actually, need) to do is overwhelming.

Here goes.

Greatness

"We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep -- it's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself. There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more."

-- from The Hours (Michael Cunningham)

I'm pleasantly reminded why I love this novel.

I want to become something great, but doesn't everyone? More than anything, I want to make some impact on the world, whether it be through a beautiful child, or a grand idea, or words that last. It's hard to believe that all I have been given lately won't amount to something worthwhile. Then again, it's still hard for me to picture myself doing anything that can be deemed notable by the world's standards.

These aspirations aren't anything out of the ordinary, I suppose.

These formative years of college are flying by. Before I know it, they will be over, and I will be desperate for just one more semester -- to take a deep breath before the deep plunge. But, like other unknown territories I have jumped into, I will swim furiously until I eventually float along, wondering what I feared in the first place.

At least I hope that's the case.

The only thing I hate about a good book is that it leaves me inspired, wanting to write, and soon realizing that I can't find the right words for what I want to say.

When in Rome

A whirlwind weekend, indeed. It's wholly bizarre to me that I left Thursday afternoon for Rome, spent two days there, and am now back in London.

Rome is an extremely interesting and enticing city. Once the capital of the Western world, the city hardly holds the same power and prominence. That's not to say that it isn't a great place to visit. On the contrary, Rome is now an innovative mix of old and new. The world's top fashion designers are here, their stores across the street from crumbling monuments. Even billboards incorporate Roman ruins into their design, in an attempt to blend in with the unique city landscape.

The city is overrun with tourists, which is unfortunate, but ensures that nearly everyone speaks a bit of English. Rome also has more beggars than any European city I've seen. What's more, they're particularly heartwrenching. After spending a day in Vatican city, it's hard to pass a mother with her crying infant or a man with twisted legs asking for change. There are also loads of men around peddling small goods, looking to make a quick buck. These guys were particularly annoying, but I had to appreciate their entrepreneurship when it began to rain and they all whipped out umbrellas for sale.

In two days, I must have walked nearly 20 miles. The hike from St. Peter's Basilica to my hotel was nearly five miles alone. On the positive side, I spent virtually nothing on transportation and got loads of exercise. Based on all of the pizza I ate, that's a very good thing. In addition to eating and walking, I saw all of the major sights including the Colosseum, Pantheon, Spanish Steps, Palatine Hill, Fontana di Trevi, Vatican Museum (including the Sistine Chapel), and St. Peter's Basilica. One of my favorite moments during the trip was sipping a cappuchino on the rooftop terrace of Il Vittoriano, with a gorgeous view of the street and crumbling marble columns below. It was the first time I sat down, relaxed, and took it all in -- the first time it hit me that I was in Rome. As has happened many, many times during the past few months, I was supremely grateful for everything in my life.

One of the towering remains in Palantine Hill. This area was like a graveyard of ancient temples and monuments.

Ironically, leaving London (or, rather, leaving and coming back) made it seem more like home. Leaving the airport for another city made me realize how much I feel like I belong here. Riding the train home felt reassuringly normal. Everything -- the gray skies, the quaint neighborhoods, the British accents -- was familiar. Funny enough, I was even relieved to see that the cars were again driving on the right side of the road.

Rome seemed to be a world away from London, and London is a world away from Atlanta. I haven't figured out whether international travel makes the world more or less confusing. You definitely realize how complex and full of contradictions it is. The world is big and small, similar and diverse, and painfully beautiful and ugly all at once.

I don't even know how many layers of culture shock I'm going to have to adjust to by the time I get home.

Laissez les bons temps roulez

Sufjan Stevens played an absolutely breathtaking acoustic show.

The New Pornographers were so energetic and loud that our ears were ringing for the rest of the night.

And I went to Ronnie Scott's, London's world-famous jazz club, last night for a benefit concert for New Orleans musicians. The New Orleans Jazz Giants played with Charmaine Neville, and I felt like I was thousands of miles away. When they played "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans," I wanted to cry from a combination of sadness and pure joy. It wasn't a morose night, though. The band was celebrating New Orleans and were a perfect example of why the city's spirit will never die.

Also, I'm leaving for Rome in, ah ... thirty minutes.

This isn't real life. It can't be.

Opportunities, missed and created

I had a wonderful weekend, despite the fact that none of it was quite like I had planned.

On Saturday, I got up before the sun and was ready and waiting at the train station by 7:00, only to be told that the 7:21 train was delayed due to a signal failure. The next one wasn't scheduled until 7:51 and I had to meet my group at 8:00. Alas, I didn't get to go to Stratford-upon-Avon and Warwick castle. Considering how much I was looking forward to the trip and that it was the second time I've missed out on a CEA outing, it's surprising I didn't get more upset.

Fortunately, I've become quite adept at dealing with disappointments and making the most of a change in plans. That's exactly what I did. I got on the next train anyway, went to the Victoria & Albert museum for an hour (I absolutely loved the fashion and photography exhibits) and went to the Portobello market before it got mobbed. I bought some things for people back home, which really cheered me up.

Later, I met up with friends and we went to the Somerset House, a gorgeous riverside palace with a beautiful courtyard and fountains, and amazing (free!) art galleries which house some amazing Impressionist and post-Impressionist work. We then went to a highly recommended hummus restaurant, had a drink at the Dog and Duck -- one of George Orwell's old haunts, and finished the night with drinks at a trendy bar.

Not at all the day I had planned, but equally exciting and memorable. I'm currently working on scheduling a self-guided trip to Stratford with friends.

This next week is going to fly by. Tomorrow, in addition to class all day, I'll be meeting one of Alex's friends to see Sufjan Stevens. On Tuesday, I volunteer, have a presentation in my Popular Culture and the Media class, and will be seeing The New Pornographers. (Two great concerts back to back, I'm thrilled!) Besides volunteering, Wednesday is my least busy day. On Thursday, my sociology course is meeting at the London Museum. That afternoon, I'm leaving for Rome and will spend three nights there. I get back Sunday, just in time start another week all over again.

Yes, Rome. Did I mention I was going? It was definitely on my list of must-see places and I wasn't sure if I'd get to go because I couldn't find anyone who was free/interested/had the money. So, I took initiative and booked myself a plane ticket. I'll be going on my own, which will bring back great memories of backpacking around France and Spain. I can't wait.

I tend to do a lot of thinking, but I can't possibly figure out what I did to deserve all of this greatness. When I stop and think about it, it doesn't seem real.

The Somerset House, above. Soon, the fountains in the center of the courtyard will be converted into an ice skating rink. I watched the skaters there last year with Alex and loved it. Emily and I got tickets, and will join them on November 30. I'm really looking forward to it.

Surreal

I love London. Period.

Nikki and I had big plans to go to The National Gallery and Westminster Abbey today. We enjoyed the museum, but were dismayed when we arrived in time for Evensong only to be told it was cancelled for the evening. Not to be deterred, we walked a few blocks back to Leicester Square to look for something to do. We came across a big crowd and soon discovered they were congregating for the premiere of Shopgirl.

We decided to join the crowd and got to see Claire Danes get out of a chauferred car, sign autographs and pose for the paparazzi. It was completely unexpected and very exciting. We then had dinner looking out on the square, ran into Peter and Nick, and joined them for a drink at a classy pub in Kentish Town.

It wasn't at all the evening we had planned. I've gotten really accustomed to dealing with setbacks and looking at the bright side. As tonight proved, a change of plans isn't always a bad thing.

Apparently, I'm not meant to join the paparazzi forces. All of my pictures turned out grainy and Claire Danes is barely visible. I did get a shot of everyone else getting good pictures. Oh well. I'll write about the rich and famous instead.

A new lightness of being

Breathing in the cool night air, as completely and utterly content as one can be. Repeating the same mantra over and over in my head: This is life ... This is life ... This. Is. Life.

So little time

So many things to do. I enjoyed another Wednesday outing with Emily today. Despite many setbacks, we made the most of our day. After a visit to the Tate Britain and getting to Highgate Cemetery after it was closed, we returned to Hampstead (an area we both are absolutely in love with) and treated ourselves to a delicious dinner and fancy cocktails.

During dinner, we discussed all that we want to do and see before the semester is over and ultimately had to write it all down to remember. I worry that I won't have enough time to see and do everything I want to in London, much less other cities in Europe. As of right now, I only have one weekend left that I don't have either a trip scheduled or someone visiting me.

And, somewhere during all of my trips and sightseeing, I will manage to get some schoolwork done. I spoke to my parents this weekend -- it's been a while -- and I was updating them, separately, on life and what I've been up to. Each one said the same thing: "Good, but what about school?"

I'm finally beginning to have papers and presentations due, and schoolwork will begin to take up some of my time. Up until this point, Middlesex has demanded six hours' worth of class time from me each week, and not much more. Part of me wishes I were getting a more academically-demanding and challenging experience here. Then again, I realize that I'm probably getting a lot more out of having fun and traveling. Not everyone gets to spend five months of their life doing so. I'm a lucky girl, indeed.

I adore Emily, seriously. One day we'll get tired of being journalists and will each find great success as a novelist. Then, needing some inspiration and having money to spend, we'll both return to London. Emily will live in a charming flat in Hampstead, and I will finally buy property in Notting Hill. We'll carry on our Wednesday night traditions of museums and dinner and live happy, happy lives.

(For the time being, we're poor college students who are ever-grateful for the chance to study in London and are desperately trying to make the most of it. That means, conserving our money in whatever way possible. We do this by making purchases like scarves at places like ultra-cheap grocery stores such as Tesco. Haha.)

A good place

Walking to the library with leaves crunching under foot, the wind blowing harder, pulling my scarf a little bit tighter. Getting lost in a book, sipping steaming-hot tea, outside voices bringing me back to where I am. Riding the 121 bus, forgetting which side of the road is right and which is wrong, letting familiar neighborhoods pass by. Returning to my cozy room, chatting with friends and planning yet another evening, slipping into daydream as I gaze out the window.

So much of what's made me happy lately has nothing really to do with the fact that I'm in London. These things could happen anywhere in the world. Maybe that simply means I'm at a good place in life.

Things I'm looking forward to this week: visiting Shakespeare's hometown, my first London haircut, paying tribute to Karl Marx, starting a new book, Warwick Castle, Evensong at Westminster Abbey, quiz night, new museums, meeting Jen's parents, outdoor markets, retreating to a coffee shop and actually doing some schoolwork.

What I'm not looking forward to: being thousands of miles away for the birthdays of two of my favorite people in the world.

That's about it. Pro versus con, I think I'm doing pretty well.

They can't take that away from me

Yesterday I went to Harrods, where you can buy anything from a ₤1,000 Prada bag to an original Andy Warhol piece. The store is absolutely obscene in terms of prices and size, but is nonetheless mesmerizing. I found myself actually contemplating a visit to the shoe department, to see if they have a pair of brown boots that weren't too expensive. Hah. I'm glad I decided otherwise. If I started seriously looking at shoes, the clerks would take one look at my grubby Adidas and politely ask me to stop handling the merchandise. The point is, before long, you understand the lure of over-the-top fashion and actually respect (well, appreciate) a place like Harrods.

Afterwards, on a shopping high, I mingled with London's elite and curious tourists and went off in search of sales. Before any major damage was done, I snapped out of it and came to the realization that even a clearance on Brompton Road is still nowhere near my price range.

I strolled around Green Park for a while and before heading back to campus, I decided to visit Notting Hill. By the time I reached Portobello Road, it was dark and all of the street vendors were packing up and leaving. Since returning to London, one of my favorite walks is from the Notting Hill Gate Underground station to the end of Portobello Road, a route I took every day when I was here in December.

Notting Hill really is an absolutely charming area, more diverse than one would expect, and always bustling with people, no matter the time of day. As tourists with their arms full of purchases from the market were leaving, pubs and restaurants were beginning to fill up with locals. I love the familiarity of Notting Hill, and the memories it holds. Every time I visit, I immediately remember what it felt like the first time. Notting Hill was literally the first area I saw when I came to London, Portobello Road the first street I walked along in a foreign country. Being there reminds me of how lucky I am and how much I have to be thankful for.

I decided to walk to the Ladbroke Grove station, which is nearby Portobello Road. I turned down a lovely side street lined with beautiful townhouses, big by London's standards. I was immediately smitten and promised myself that if I ever became successful enough, I would live there. I'd already dreamed about living in Notting Hill some day, but that fantastic little street sealed the deal for me. In all likelihood, I will remain a hard-working and underpaid journalist for most of my adult life (which is fine by me), but, if by some random act of God, I hit the big time with a book or a few Pulitzer Prize-winning pieces of journalism, you'll soon find me in a charming little flat on Cambridge Gardens. (Yes, I looked the street name up. I am serious about this.) For now, I'm content with visiting and revisiting Notting Hill, enjoying the feeling it gives me every time.

I also went to a party last night, hosted by my friend Jason. I just realized this, but I was the only American there. The evening before, Jen and I were the only two Americans in a group of fourteen. A major goal of mine before coming here was to hang out with British students (or any non-American students, for that matter) as much as possible. Goal accomplished.

Getting to know you

I have a feeling that the best memories I'm going to have from London are ones that could have happened practically anywhere. It's the feeling of familiarity which I've, surprisingly, really enjoyed here.

Our team won second place (and ten free drinks!) at the quiz last night, and it was hardly different than trivia night at Johnny's Pizza. (Except the questions are harder ... at least for a foreigner like me.) During our night out, Emily and I wound up at a pub in Hampstead which was full of locals. We each ordered a pint and watched the football game, cheering along with everyone else. When I play with the kids at the shelter, I lose all concept of how we come from different places -- I could just as easily be working with kids from my hometown.

I guess it's nice to feel like I'm not as much of an outsider here. Yesterday I went shopping on Oxford Street with one of my British friends, and it was so nice to not have to look at a map or guess where this shop or that Underground station was. One of the things I most look forward to with having friends visit me is to be able to show them around, feeling like I really do live in London, even if it isn't for long.

I was planning on going to Scotland this weekend with a group of friends, but I would miss Jen's birthday, which I had promised to be here for. Instead, after celebrating with her tonight, I am planning on devoting one of my last free weekends to exploring London. I'm going to spend most of the weekend in the city on my own, visiting museums I've been meaning to, buying the first of many souvenirs for people back home, and figuring out what fun places I'd like to return to with friends. Even though I'm here for what seems like a short time, I want to know London as if I've lived here for years.

Warm Fuzzy Feeling

I attended my first volunteer session today, and I absolutely loved it. I'll be volunteering twice a week at local community shelters, basically playing with young children who live in temporary housing. Most of their parents are refugees.

The room, which was filled with about 25 toddlers and their mothers, was the most ethnically-diverse place I've ever been in. Many of the women did not speak English, or very little at all, and you had to admire them for wanting to be a part of the community and make the most of their situation. I'd really love to sit down with each woman and learn her story, how she wound up here in London. It would be fascinating.

Often when I'm around young children, I'm reminded of how innocent we all are born. It was especially apparent today, seeing how color had nothing to do with how the children played together. In my sociology courses, professors continually remind us that race is socially constructed and doesn't really exist. A lot of students seem to have a rough time grasping that concept. These kids completely understand. If only it would last.

So I'm filled with goodwill and inspiration at the moment. It's a good mood to be in, as I have an evening out planned with my lovely flatmate Emily. We're going to cast our vote for the Turner Prize at the Tate, try to find a particularly offensive and controversial billboard before it gets taken down, eat at a vegetarian restaurant, and top off the evening with drinks and conversation at a local pub.

Just in case you were wondering about the Turner Prize (I know you were), have a look-see:
http://www.tate.org.uk/britain/turnerprize/2005/

The Great Escape

This weekend was exactly what I needed. York is a lovely little town, exactly what I envisioned a tiny English city to be. Despite the hoards of tourists and designer shops, it seems like not much has changed in York for hundreds of years. Stone walls still surround the city, tea rooms are packed in the afternoon, and the church is still the most important place in town. Minutes before we had to meet at the train station, a few of us watched a ceremony of some sort taking place in St. Mary's Square. There was a group of schoolchildren being honored for something, all dressed in scouts' uniforms, and the pomp and circumstance of the entire affair made the moment seem timeless, as if it could have occurred 100 years earlier. (Yes, I took pictures. I was one of the annoying tourists that probably ruined the moment. I tried to be discreet about it, at least.)

I spent the entire weekend with Nikki, a pre-med student from San Diego who shares similar motivations and ideas about studying abroad as I do. We talked endlessly about a variety of subjects -- spirituality, cultural stereotypes, love, London -- and it was refreshing to spend so much time with someone who was genuinely interested in getting as much as possible out of her study abroad experience, rather than a good excuse to drink legally and party nonstop. Towards the end of the weekend, I also spent a good deal of time with Courtney, a dance major and another Middlesex student. The three of us plan on doing things together outside of program-sponsored events, which is nice.

I'm much anticipating this week, which makes me happy. I never quite figured out what prompted my conflicting emotions and bad mood, but they're gone and I guess that's all that matters. Back to making the most of my time here which, by the way, seems to be flying by really, really quickly.

Bad cold. I've been in all day, hoping to get better before the trip to York tomorrow.

I'm much looking forward to retreating to the countryside and getting to know some of the CEA students better. I feel like it'll be the right kind of mind-clearing getaway I need.

I still haven't figure out why I can't post pictures, but I made another webshots page:

http://community.webshots.com/user/findingme2

Enjoy. Keep in touch.

Cheer up, honey I know you can

I haven't written in a few days. That's not to say I haven't had a lot on my mind or haven't been inspired to write. Actually, my mind has been swimming with thoughts, and yesterday I retreated to a quiet coffee shop and poured out my feelings onto paper in a letter that I know I'll never deliver.

The reason I haven't updated is because I've posted somewhat basic updates thus far (This is what I did, this is what I plan to do, life is good) and have largely refrained from personal details or stark emotions, specifically negative ones.

I needed to update, however, and ultimately decided to share what's going on in my head.

I've been living a dream life lately, traveling to foreign countries, seeing amazing sights, meeting exciting people, being free of major responsibilities or worries. So it was weird when, for lack of a better term, real life hit me. Now that the adrenalin of traveling and meeting new people and starting classes has worn off, reality has begun to creep in. There aren't major things going on -- in fact, they're all relatively normal and mundane "problems" -- but, for the first time since leaving the States, I am faced with real-life problems.

I've been trying to figure out what's going on in my head, and I'm pretty sure it's a culmination of many emotions and thoughts and feelings, having been suppressed, coming out all at once. The thing about a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like studying abroad is that it's an absolutely amazing experience that one is expected to be nothing less than utterly grateful for. Therefore, feelings such as sadness -- or any negative feeling, for that matter -- seem extremely inappropriate and out of place. In addition, I normally don't like to burden others with my troubles, so I'm definitely not going to express such feelings to people I've only known for a matter of weeks.

I guess it was a given that, sooner or later, the weight of everything would become too great and I'd need an emotional release. I'll spare the details, for your benefit, and for my privacy. Basically, I feel confused and conflicted. I miss home, but I'm dreading the day I leave London. I don't have any idea of what would make me the happiest -- in terms of living, working and studying -- when I return. Right now, I don't feel like there's a particular place where I belong.

For the first time in a long time, I actually feel scared and unsure about my future.

---
P.S. Things aren't bad here -- I'm still having an amazing time and doing a lot. I saw a Jaws/Ghostbusters double feature in London, went out dancing with friends last night, arranged a meeting with a local volunteer agency, have gotten to know some British students much better, and am spending the weekend in York.

Oxford

Unlike the Stonehenge excursion, the trip to Oxford was a huge success. Emily, Karen, Christine and I (our fifth person couldn't make it, unfortunately) were dedicated from the start -- meeting at 8:00, standing in queue after queue trying to figure out where to buy tickets, and making the most of each situation. We made it to Oxford by early afternoon, and had a wonderful time.

I was struck by how well the four of us worked together as a group. For hardly knowing each other, we acted like old friends and amiably went from place to place as if we had been traveling together many times before.

Oxford is gorgeous, and worth all the hype. There are 30-plus colleges in the city -- I was under the impression that there was just the University of Oxford, and maybe one or two others -- and they're all fairly small, but boast beautiful, old buildings and world-renowned faculty members. Each school seems to house an impressive church and beautifully-maintained gardens. The streets are full of cafes and shops and the sidewalks are packed with students who happen to be a) overwhelmingly male (a welcome change from Middlesex) and b) extremely intelligent (well, possibly another welcome change from Middlesex). Needless to say, the four of us walked around exclaiming "I wish I were here ..." throughout the day.

We visited a number of schools, got a bird's-eye view of the city, shopped some, took a paddle boat around the river, had a traditional English tea with scones, and hit a pub before eating dinner and heading home. It was a wonderful day and despite a few setbacks like bad weather (big surprise, right?) and unexpected admission prices, we all had a great time. I look forward to coming back again before I leave and traveling more with the same group.

(For some reason, I'm having a terrible time uploading pictures. I'll work on it, but no promises.)

Divine Intervention

So I excitedly reserved a ticket for the Cheltenham Literature Festival to see Mark Haddon, one of my favorite authors tonight. Little did I realize that Cheltenham is a city in England and not the name of some festival in London. I discovered this too late, as it was 4:00 and it takes nearly 3 hours to get there via train. Oh well.

Danielle, the CEA London director, took us on a tour of St. Paul's Cathedral today. I absolutely love St. Paul's. When you leave the church, there are signs that thank you for visiting, hoping that your time there left you "refreshed and inspired" and encouraged to visit again. This being my second time at St. Paul's, I was happy to note that I'd still like to visit it as much as possible.

Beforehand, Danielle took us around The City, London's financial district, on a walking tour of notable St. Christopher Wren sights. My favorite was an old church which was nearly demolished -- all that remained were some old walls, and the interior had been replaced by a beautiful garden. It was an amazing little sanctuary in the middle of the city. To me, in a way, it seemed like God was more present in the natural surroundings than in some of the impressive churches.

After the tour and making the long trek to the top of St. Paul's, I separated from my group to find an internet cafe and get information on where to see Mark Haddon. Since the book festival idea was shot, I changed my plans and headed back to St. Paul's for Evensong instead. I was so glad I decided to return -- the service, which was free, was absolutely breathtaking. Being in such an amazing and historic church, in such an incredible city, witnessing such a beautiful service ... I was nearly moved to tears, again. I've never felt the same weakness in the knees and tingly-indescribable feeling since I was in the Church of the Holy Sepulchure in Jerusalem (and, yes, I realize how lucky I am to say that). For not being an overly religious person, I certainly have been blessed with getting the opportunity to visit some of the most incredible holy places in the world. Furthermore, for being somewhat of a skeptic, these places continually assure me that there is a higher being greater than us. I may not understand or know much, but of that I am sure.

Anyway, it was a perfect day. I was glad to spend some touristy time in London. Tomorrow, I'm visiting Oxford with a Belgian, an Icelander, an Italian, and another American -- a fabulous international group headed to a place I've been hoping to visit for some time now. Let's hope this excursion works out a little better than Stonehenge did.

Oh, and I took pictures! But, at the moment, I'm having trouble uploading them. Will come later.

Distance

Things haven't been that eventful in terms of outings or traveling lately. I went to Chinatown tonight, but that's been the extent of my London travels since the transportation nightmare. I have, however, been spending some quality time with people on campus. I went to a quaint pub Sunday night with my Belgian flatmate Karen and she and I shared wonderful conversation and a bottle of red wine. We've made plans to visit Oxford this weekend, which I'm much looking forward to. I've spent loads of time with Jason; last night I got to know quite a few British students really well; I seem to generally be more social and outgoing than I am at home. Already, part of me wants to distance myself from certain people before I really get attached. On the other hand, I feel like I should live in the moment, and not worry about the future. Three months is going to arrive really quickly, though, and I can't bear to think not only about leaving London, but leaving behind amazing friends, too.

This is all ironic, of course, because I was warned of this dilemma the first week I was here. At the time, I didn't want to hear it. I had just arrived overseas, and the next four months seemed to stretch out ahead of me without the end in sight.

I guess a reality check is bound to come one of these days. For now, I'm not ready nor willing to worry about it. For now, I'm choosing option B and living in the moment.

A series of unfortunate events

Today went from bad to worse. Or, at least, from annoying to overbearingly frustrating.

I didn't make it to Stonehenge. I left my dorm room at 6:45 this morning and didn't get into London until 9:00. First off, the train station was closed. No big deal. I took a bus to the Oakwood Tube Station, which also turned out to be closed. The Underground kindly provided replacement buses to Wood Green, the closest station that was operating. By the time the bus got there, however, it was 8:20, and the coach had already left for Stonehenge nearly a half hour before then.

Not to be deterred, I decided to make the most of the day and spend some time in London. Big mistake. I should have returned home and crawled back into bed. I spent as much time in the city (3 hours) as it took me getting home. The trip back to Middlesex was a huge mess. For some reason, multiple tube lines were closed and no trains were running anywhere close to where I live. After an hour of switching lines and figuring out routes around construction and delays, I made it to Wood Green where I caught another replacement bus headed for Oakwood. Almost there. I sat in the front seat on the top level of the double-decker bus, where I could see everything below me. Thus, I witnessed the car in front of us hit on the brakes and the collision that was caused because our driver was too slow to do the same. I nearly hit the glass and (in possibly the only lucky event of the day) I'm very glad I didn't--the entire windshield below was broken.

I couldn't believe it. I got off the bus, and headed towards the next closest bus stop while the other passengers stood on the sidewalk, dazed. Suddenly, another bus pulled up and everyone piled on, leaving me behind. So, completely unaware of where I was and without a map (who needs the A-Z in Stonehenge?), I stood waiting for another replacement bus and they kept passing me by. Then it started to rain. I was ready to cry from frustration.

Six buses and nine hours later, a very tired, annoyed, and cranky Katie is back, and has never been happier to be in her little dorm room. Guess who's going to the pub tonight?

---

Ah, but I did have a good time in London. I browsed through the Portobello Market, which is fantastic, and bought a 5-CD box set of classic jazz tunes for only ₤10. Even in U.S. dollars, I'd consider that a deal.

I also spent some time in Kensington Gardens and visited Pricess Diana's former residence. To add to the bizarre events of the day, I found myself in a situation where I kept beat on a park bench while a homeless man sang "When the Saints Go Marching In." We gathered a crowd, and I thought I was going to die of embarrassement. It's a long story, but a funny one at least.

This picture, taken in the park, isn't hearly as good as one of Stonehenge would have been. Oh well. It's been one of those days ...

Off to the pub for a well-needed pint.

Across the universe

My dear friend Jamie once described me as not having a "filter" like most people do. He said that sad events seemed to make me really sad, while I could get indescribably happy over little things. Everything appeared to affect me a bit more than maybe it should, which can be a good and bad thing. I loved this description, and think about it often.

Yesterday, I had one of those unfiltered moments. I decided to walk to Enfield Town, which is about a mile away. Along the way, I passed kids getting off the bus from school, mothers pushing stollers, and neighbors chatting like old friends. It was all so normal. I made it into town and found that the outdoor market was open ("Enfield Market -- Now in it's 700th year"). I immediately gravitated to a book stall, stocked with a wonderful selection of old books. Each one was extremely cheap -- 60 pence for The Hours, one of my favorite books -- and I wound up buying four novels for just £2. I then took my purchases to a cozy coffeeshop and read for a while. Before heading back, I stopped in a cute jewelry shop and treated myself to a cheap pair of earrings to wear that evening.

Anyway, I haven't even gotten to the unfiltered moment yet. After such a lovely afternoon in town, I felt extremely content and blissful walking back to campus. Again, I passed cute townhouses and families doing everyday things. I looked up at the sky and it seemed particularly expansive and wondrous. It was at that moment -- when I was in your average English neighborhood, rather than in the middle of exciting London -- that it fully hit me that I was living here, albeit for a short time. I thought about the fact that this was techincally my third visit to London, and that I've been in England a combined four weeks. I realized that I was walking around without worrying about maps or getting lost. I felt like I could cry, I felt so fortunate and happy.

To top off such a great day, I had an even better night. One of the things on my to-do list for London was to go to a jazz club. Now I've added another item to the list: Go to as many jazz clubs as possible. Jason, a British film student whom I get along fantastically with, and I went to the Jazz Café in Camden. We met up with Nick, a jazz student who's also at Middlesex. The band was good, although a tad bit "commercial," and the atmosphere was great. The place was crowded but not packed, and the crowd was amazing -- obviously made up of jazz enthusiasts. An evening out with friends at a cool jazz club with a good mixed drink is my idea of a perfect night. I'm beyond pleased that I've found people who feel the same way.

Tomorrow, I'm going to Stonehenge and Bath. Pictures to come.

Frost and the Ripper

Last night everyone from the CEA program went on a Jack the Ripper walking tour. It started off outside the Tower of London and ended in a dark alleyway outside an old synagogue. We walked past murder sites, "in the footsteps" of the killer himself, and through some really interesting culturally-diverse neighborhoods located in the East End. I expected it to be cheesy, but our tour guide was really engaging and had an apparent passion for the mystery and intriguing stories surrounding the infamous killer.

Our guide began the tour by commenting that "winter arrived today." He wasn't exaggerating. Although the official start of winter is months from now, yesterday felt like it. It was 9 degrees Celcius (or about 48 degrees Fahrenheit) and drizzling. I took the train home and it started to pour. Needless to say, after listening to gruesome accounts of prostitutes being murdered, it was a bit unnerving to walk back alone from the station in the dark and the rain.

---

One of the best side effects of traveling for me is the rush of motivation and inspiration I get. I don't feel like I've wasted a day since I've been here. We're required to read "Politics and the English Language," an essay by George Orwell, for my journalism course. I decided to buy the collection of essays that it's published in because it inspired me so much.

Orwell's title essay, "Why I Write," holds universal truths known to anyone who's ever been inspired to express themselves through words. Many of the thoughts and feelings he writes about were ones that I naïvely assumed I was alone in having. Of course, he expresses his feelings a bit better than I did: "I think from the very start my literary ambitions were mixed up with the feeling of being isolated and undervalued," (Orwell) versus "I guess all writers are meant to be lonely" (me). A little melodramatic, Katie.

Anyway, it's cool and very inspiring to be able to relate to a great author's thoughts on writing. Maybe I'll actually attempt to write something of substance while I'm here, not just blog entries and mandatory papers for school.

Video killed the radio star

One of the mundane things that I was looking forward to during my semester here was having virtually no access to television. Ironically, that's going to turn out to be a problem.

My sociology course, Popular Culture and the Media, focuses entirely on television. What's more, it focuses on British television. I guess this makes sense, and I guess I can't complain about a class being aimed towards British students when I've chosen to study abroad, but I'm at a major disadvantage. First off, my knowledge of British television extends no further than some old Mr. Bean episodes, The Office, and the occassional Coupling. Secondly, as I mentioned before, I have no access to television! We're expected to write a 2,000-something-word essay on a certain issue involving television and British society and each student must present a seminar to the class on some issue (i.e. violence and TV) citing examples from shows and showing clips, if needed.

As someone who isn't a big fan of television in the first place -- I voluntarily decided to give up TV for Lent one year, even though I'm not Catholic, and didn't watch it much after Easter came and went -- I would stress a little about this class if it was in the States. Thus, a class devoted to British television is going to be unecissarily stressful. I could see the importance if I were a film student, or interested in writing about TV, or maybe even looking to go into broadcast journalism, but I'm not sure how it's going to benefit me.

My professor was okay with the idea of writing and presenting on American television shows if they're aired over here, but we have to focus on how they impact British audiences. I can do that, I think. Actually, I'm toying around with the idea of how Sex and the City's ideals affect Brisith women. I knew watching every single episode would pay off somehow.

Actually, I've been ludicrously positive about things lately. I see things like this class as a challenge and thus a way to test myself. I'm open to wherever life takes me. Right now, I feel like I could be happy if I'm in London next semester, or at another school, or even back at Georgia State. There are benefits to new situations, no matter which ones you wind up in. I'm realizing that one of my greatest fears about getting older is feeling stuck in one place. I don't want to be living somewhere where I'm not happy, with an unfulfilling job, and a family that requires I stay in said place. I'm not saying that settling down and having a family is a bad thing or that it won't make me happy, I just want to put myself in that situation when I want to be and when it will make me most content.

So, in the meantime, I want to see and experience as much as possible. Traveling and living in new places, having different jobs, meeting new people ... it all teaches you an endless amount about yourself and what you like and don't like. Good or bad, every new experience is positive because it makes you that much more self-aware and closer to reaching a point in life where you're satisfied and happy. I feel like some people reach a point where they feel like this is it and are, at that moment, fully content with their life. Maybe that feeling doesn't really exist -- I don't know -- but I'm going to keep searching for it regardless.

I told you I've been ludicrously positive.

Fall is here, hear the yell

So today was the first day of school. It seems like it's been a long time coming. Friends back home are beginning to think about midterms, and I've been wandering for the past month. Responsibility is good though -- I don't feel right if I don't have some organization and directed motivation in my life. I have classes on Monday (lecture and seminar for my Feature Writing course), Tuesday, and Thursday (both Sociology courses). I'm done with class by 11:30 Thursday, which gives me a nice, long weekend and enough time to travel some. Seminars don't start until next week, so I was done with class by 10:30 today.

I decided to head into London instead of going back to the dorms. I wandered around Covent Garden, ate lunch in Hyde Park, got lost, and finally made my way to Oxford Street. My goal was to buy a book of essays by George Orwell that is required for my journalism module. Since Oxford Street is world-famous for shopping, I figured it wouldn't be too difficult.

I found two small bookstores farily quickly, but neither carried the title. The further down the street I went, the more crowded it got and the stores got bigger and more expensive. I tried another promising shop -- Books, etc. -- but it didn't have the title either. Just as I was about to give up, someone with an American accent yelled my name. In front of me was Mark, one of the students who lives in the flat below me. We were both excited to run into each other so randomly, especially in such a busy part of town. I was frustrated and told him I was having trouble finding a bookstore. He laughed and pointed -- there was a 3-story Waterstone's right next to us. They had the book I was looking for and I now had someone to join me on the ride home.

There wasn't much point in sharing that, except that it felt awesome to run into someone in a city with a population of more than 7 million people. I know it's dumb, seeing as I haven't been here long and haven't even begun classes yet, but I'm already dreading leaving London. I want a city like this to feel like home, not just a cool place I visit. I want to know the best places to eat, the cool spots to catch live music ... I want to be able to get around without getting lost ... I want to be part of this amazing, vibrant city and more than just a visiting student ... I want to pay far too much for a too-small flat ... I want to finally comprehend why I'm so strongly drawn to London. I think that's part of the reason I'm reluctant to come home and return to my "normal" life. I don't want to accept that this will end, nor do I want to take the chance that I'll never return.

And, oh yeah, my class was fine; it was a basic introduction day, not much different than the States. I feel like I may be a bit ahead of some of my peers in terms of journalism experience, but definitely behind in comprehension and knowledge of current events in the UK. Similar to Dr. Teel, my professor is adamant about her students keeping up with current events and is planning on quizzing us at the beginning of each class. I couldn't answer any of the questions today except for who is involved with a big cocaine scandal -- Kate Moss. Good to see I'm keeping track of important and life-changing events. Looks like I'll need to brush up on news over here.

The Thames

I love the River Thames. I remember the first time I really paid attention to it was during my senior year of high school, when we were reading "Heart of Darkness" in A.P. English. Many students, including me, initially mispronounced it and few people knew where the river actually was.

Anyway, I remember that Joseph Conrad described it really beautifully. Although most of the book takes place on the Congo river, Conrad wrote about the winding, twisting Thames in such a way that it stuck with me. The historical and cultural importance of the Thames and what it means to London is outstanding. Last December, when I first came to London, the plane had to circle around a few times before landing and I had a great view of London from above. The Thames dominated the landscape, and the city spread in all directions from the water.

Last night, we went on a cruise of the Thames. Although I wasn't in the mood to dance to the same bad pop music I've been listening to all week, I thoroughly enjoyed sitting on the deck and enjoying the view. Peter, Nick and I shared a bottle of red wine and made it a classy affair.

One of the best parts of the trip was crossing the Greenwich Mean Time line. At night, they mark the imaginary line with a super-strong green lazer that stretches across the sky. Of course-- similar to when midnight hits on New Year's Eve--nothing happened when we crossed, but it was cool nonetheless.

Pitcures: (1) Nick secretly enjoys hanging out with me, he's just too tough to show it; (2) the view was amazing; (3) Peter and I always seem to have a good time together; (4) crossing under the Tower Bridge was my favorite part.

Hard to Believe ...

So, I left Atlanta for London on August 23, exactly one month ago. In the past month, I have done the following: visited three countries and seven major cities, seen a countless number of masterpieces in world-class museums, made friendships with more people than I’ve met in all of college, visited two of the three biggest cathedrals in the world, spent time with my family, spoken three different languages (however unsuccessfully), had a picnic dinner by the Eiffel Tower, decided I want to stay here a year, spent a substantial amount of time with Kerry—whom I never get to see, cried from pure joy, started to figure out things with Alex, went to the National Gallery three times, ate escargot, read three books total and a newspaper nearly every day, discovered that I can travel alone and enjoy it, and pinched myself on a number of occasions just to make sure that this is reality.

In addition to the best month of my life coming to an end, I have loads to look forward to: school begins Monday, I have plans to see at least two football games, I bought a ridiculously-cheap 20-pound ticket to Rome for November, I’m going to see Pride and Prejudice and eat sushi this weekend with the macho army brat who lives downstairs and has a weakness for Jane Austen, Alex and I are going to see the Decemberists in two months, Middlesex is taking us on a night cruise of the Thames tonight, a Brit named Jason is escorting me to a jazz club, I’ll be heading to Bath and Stonehenge next weekend, Amsterdam and Prague are on my list of must-see places, there are at least two people from Georgia visiting me … and that’s just what I can think of at the moment.

I am lucky. I am blessed. I’m pretty sure I’m undeserving of all of this. Kerry and I have battled with the same issue—we love traveling and enjoying such incredible experiences like studying abroad, but it’s unclear what we have done to deserve such greatness. Some days, I come back to my room bursting with excitement about my life right now and I want to write about it or call someone and share my happiness. Then I think about how I would feel if I were at Georgia State instead, and a friend called me from overseas. Sure, I’d be happy for them, but part of me would also automatically compare my life to theirs and get down about it. And it makes me wonder: can we control how great our lives are? I mean, I chose to come over here. I decided to travel on my own and see the world. I’ve made a point to meet people and do what makes me happy. And is happiness like this attainable back home, or would one have to travel miles away to achieve it? Is this reality, or am I living in a vacation-like dreamworld? Will it suddenly hit me? Once school starts, will I lose it and feel homesick and stressed and like I’m completely lost?

I don’t know. All I’m sure of is that this seems too good to be true. I feel like I’ve lived an entire lifetime, and I’ve barely started. I can’t even fathom it getting better from here. But I’m happy and I’m not going to jinx myself. I’m going to live in the moment and enjoy every second of it.

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And yesterday I ventured into London on my own and just disappeared from the earth for a while. I spent the afternoon in Hyde Park by the river and pretended I was a local. It was fabulous.

I slept in today, waking up for the first time without an alarm in nearly a month. It was much, much needed.

There weren't any orientations or activities planned today, so I went into London with a group of friends. We went to Camden and browsed the (relatively) cheap shops. Most of the stores sold things like second-hand clothing, old records, drug paraphanalia, used books, rare posters, etc. It was a cool area to spent the afternoon in.

We then took the tube to Hampstead Heath. The walk was long, but worth it. The weather was gorgeous and the view of London is unbeatable. Plus, we got to see a really huge table and chair.

All in all, it was a good day and I was glad that others are up for exploring the city like I am.

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One thing I've discovered is that drinking will be hard to escape. It's bizarre; even Middlesex promotes drinking. During our first orientation day, the dean welcomed us and encouraged us to come out to the student union for free drinks. And last night, the campus arranged for a bus to come and take us to a huge nightclub. The buses didn't return until 2:00 a.m. I don't think a U.S. school--no matter how liberal the institution--would sponsor an outing like that.

Anyway, tonight it's drinks for only a pound at The Beef and Barrell, a nearby pub. I chose to stay in, but the desicion wasn't easy. It seems like there's something going on every night, whether it's a large event or a party on campus. It's also hard not to feel like you're missing out, by opting to stay in. The truth is, I'd go broke really, really quickly if I went out every evening. Plus, I'd like to get a lot more out of this experience than simply enjoying the chance to drink legally.