Catching Up

It's been a long time since I've been wide awake at 2am, curled up in a warm bed, laptop against my knees. Or maybe it was only five weeks ago, but my life in San Francisco feels so distant now. I can recall all the places and people that pieced together my life there, but somehow life is completely different nowadays. Well, not completely different, I suppose. It is somehow still exactly the same while being entirely new.

I meant to write something on October 20th to mark my One Month in London anniversary, but I recall the 20th consisting of a very emotional evening after a very tiring day. Had I been in a more optimistic place that night, I would have toasted making it this far with a mini bottle of champagne and a single champagne glass. But I was not in that headspace, and there will be plenty of other dates that will be more significant in the future.

Some friends from California just emailed me to say that they are in London for the next few days. On top of my friends in Poland coming to scope out apartments, I also have SO MUCH to do before The Boy comes to visit me in ten days. And all of these social engagements are going to have to be worked around a very big homework project that is due on Friday. As I discussed in an earlier entry, I really have to work hard on my next couple of projects to make sure I don't remain at the bottom of my class. This project needs to be Good, as in the Capitalized G and italicized variety of "good". I will not get up in front of this class and present another project that I feel the need to apologize for. I refuse the suffer that humiliation again. So this week I might not be posting much.

It's 2:30 exactly and I am starting to regret that delicious cup of coffee I made at 6:00 after two failed attempts at an afternoon nap. Why oh why can't I be the napping type? I could get away with so much more late-night drawing sessions if I could just nap every now and then. I envy people that are good sleepers. Like beauty or brains, there is a gross inequality of good sleep amongst the human race. Someone should see to that.

2:33, and I am starting to feel a hint of sleep at the corners of my vision. I might be so bold as to suggest a yawn is imminent.

Yep, that was a yawn. I guess that's the sign that this redhead needs to unplug and shut down for a few hours.

Good night dear silent readers, whoever you are. Like my favorite Central Line train operator says on Friday mornings, "please remember to take all your belongings with you when you exit the train. And whoever you are, where ever you're going, and whatever the weather, have a lovely weekend and stay safe."

Arrived and Settling In

To think that three days ago I was sitting on a plane, sure that my life was over...

And now I reside in a little town called London. You might have heard of it.

It's only been two days since I arrived and already I feel comfortable in this city. Lost, but comfortable. But when I arrived at Heathrow on Saturday morning I was MISERABLE. If I could add more emphasis to that word I would. I was beyond exhausted but knew I needed to stay up until 9pm to help adjust to the time zone difference. I was so depressed and terrified that the space in my stomach where food would normally go was filled with a giant knot, and more than anything I wanted to turn around and go home once I saw the hole of a room that would be my home for the next year.

But sleep solves most problems. And I woke up to a sunny Sunday morning feeling alive and ready to take on the city around me. I dressed (which was surprisingly saddening since so much of my clothing reminds me of my boyfriend), grabbed a tube map I'd gotten the day previous, and set out to meet my aunt at Kings Cross.

I navigated the usual weekend fiasco on the underground (every weekend some part of several different lines shut down for electrical work, making travel a bit more exciting on your days off), and found myself sitting on an empty train car smiling to myself. "Holy shit," I thought, "I LIVE in London now." Then the doors clunked closed and the metallic ca-chunk of the trains moving distracted me from my thoughts, but didn't wipe the smile from my face.

The first thing I noticed when I arrived at Kings Cross was that I felt a comforting familiarity flow through me. When I was in Cambridge last year I took the train into Kings Cross every day I came to London, and it's one of the few places in this city that I know my way around very well. And when I saw my aunt, I felt like I had a little pocket of family and safety only an hour away.

She and I had breakfast (soft boiled egg and toast for me) before wandering through housewares stores with beautiful over-designed items that I very much want. Looking at all the pretties around me, I realized that making my dorm room feel like a home was going to be a slow, fun process. And in realizing that, the room quite suddenly became more livable. The horrible ill-fitting sheets that came with my bed, the horrible yellow lighting, the nasty blue carpet, the discomfort of the tiny bathroom..... these were no longer problems I couldn't solve. In fact I look forward to solving them.

I spent the evening in our ill-equipped kitchen, chatting it up with my new international flatmates (one of whom is incredibly cool) while sharing a bottle of cheap red wine.

Today was equally exciting because it was Monday! YEAY! Monday meant that I could finally go about getting all those basic things done, like finding a top-up mobile phone to get me around while I price-shop for a good contract phone. And going to my school to finalize my paperwork. And opening up my first London bank account. And buying a SUPER comfy robe to keep me warm in the mornings. And to stare at all the incredible boots in the window of Office on Oxford street. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. Hold. Me. Back..... No wait, don't.

I ate lunch in a cafe this afternoon so I could write down some thoughts to share here. I recalled having a dream about shopping for clothes with Dustin Hoffman, and trying to find a good belt and tie for him. Which has nothing to do with anything, but I thought it was funny and wanted to remember it. I also wrote that I wish I could have trusted that I would feel this way when I arrived in London. Upon departure, I was so sure my life was ending; so sure that I would suffer horribly and live a lonely life of sadness for the next three years. Part of me knew that wasn't true, but I was so sad in those last days in SF that it was hard to see beyond that.

I guess I've been writing a lot to sort out my thoughts in these past two days. And looking over the writing now, it seems I end each entry by saying "I am okay," when I feel alright, or brave. Today I ended my last entry by saying, "I am okay. And soon, I will be better than okay- soon I will be good."