Home

It's the strangest thing to be vacationing at a place that was your home three months ago. How do you pack to go home when the home you're visiting is no longer where you live?

My dorm room is not the most comfortable place in the world but it's where I spend my nights, mornings, and some weekends. I have made it as comfy as possible, and shipped myself my favorite throw blanket and my favorite books so that it would feel more like my home.

But now I just left all those symbols of homey comfort to come back "home". It's odd when I really think about it; when I realize that my home isn't in either city right now.

I even had to buy a UK to US adapter plug, which was a bit trippy. Seems backwards.

The flight over wasn't so bad. It was a flight full of crying babies, but headphones and in-flight movies drowned them out. Before I flew, I bought myself a slight upgrade to Economy Plus, which gave this rather tall American Redhead about six extra inches of legroom. The flight went pretty quickly, really- I got through check in and security in Heathrow in about 20 minutes. The whole thing would have gone off without a hitch had I not gotten mild food poisoning from the airplane food, and spent six of the ten hours in flight trying not to throw up.

But fate is kind to me, and I happened to be seated next to a very sweet Swedish nurse who for some reason had a stomach-healing pill in her bag. By the time we landed, I was no longer telling myself to breathe through my nose and craving salty crackers. She was a life saver. Thank you Swedish Nurse Lady!

I am actually pretty proud of myself because although I have traveled before, I've always traveled with the help of someone else. Either someone was consulted in my packing, or did the online check in for me, or dropped me off at the airport. This time I had to do the whole thing myself. And I did it! I always find myself getting very nervous before I fly, because all the preparations leading up to the flying are kind of a mystery to me. But now I am fine.

It's a bit strange being home. I am sitting on my boyfriend's bed while he's at work today. I have spent a lot of time here, and I am very comfortable in his house. Old routines are so easy to fall back into, you know? I know where things are, my body remembers the way I always sit in his car, I remember how everything works. I have history here. I haven't had any in London yet, so everything feels kinda of new, still.

It's also nice to have someone take care of me sometimes. Someone ELSE to make dinner every now and then, or to pick me up when it's freezing and rainy. I have come to love being on my own in London, actually. I love that my schedule is entirely up to me, that I am not beholden to anyone else. I've embraced that independence as much as I can, on a budget. ;) But god, it is so nice to come back and know that every night there is a comfortable bed with a hot boy in it waiting for me. It's wonderful to know that I have many years of history with friends here, and that they all want to see me so badly that they've been emailing me for the last two weeks, asking if I was home yet. It's nice to have others involved in my life, making demands on my time. The only thing I have that demands my time back in London is school (and it makes some SERIOUS demands, let me tell you...)

It is sunny out today. I haven't seen the sun in over a week. It feels amazing. And novel. I can go outside without layers of clothing under a sweater, under a jacket with a hat, a scarf, and gloves. It feels weird, but good, to be home. "Home".

Ten

I fly home in ten days! So excited to see the boy!!!

Also, I bought three vintage dresses today, and a VERY short denim skirt. I intend to look smashing when I visit all my friends- otherwise how can I be pretentious and pompous about living in London now?

Ten Hours of Staring

I wonder what my flight will be like on the 19th. I remember my red eye flight over there last fall and how I sat next to a balding, chubby man that I suspected of being very high at the time of takeoff.

The flight was almost ten hours long, over night (which in coach means you spend the nighttime hours making desperate promises to some deity that you will forever be a good person if he/she will only allow you a few hours of comfortable rest), and the plane was particularly loud. I brought my DSlite, a book my boyfriend got me, a mini-pillow, and a sketchbook. This man next to me brought absolutely nothing. Not a magazine, not a book, not a piece of paper, nothing...

He spent the entire ten hour flight staring at his hands with a look of utter amazement. First he'd examine the back of his hands, no doubt counting lines and following their paths around to the front of his hands, which he'd then stare at until he flipped them back again. His childlike fascination led me to believe that he was in fact watching the rise and fall of vast empires of little hand-dwelling germs. The pretty lights and goings-on of this tiny civilization must have kept his attention rapt for the entire ten hours that I was fussing in my seat trying to find a position that would lend itself to sleep, and still allow my subversive glances at my seat-mate to see if he was still in fact counting his pores.

It Is Now Official...

I bought my ticket to London today.

It's a shitty flight with a layover, at an awkward time of day. But that's not really what's bothering me...

I mean, I just bought a one-way ticket to another country.

Holy shit.

29th

I finally have a date: Sept 29th. That is the day classes at Central St. M begin. My birthday is Sept 2, the dorms open Sept 14, and I will fly away to England sometime mid-month. It's approaching very quickly, all of a sudden.

Lately, I have been working ridiculously hard on an application for an amazing scholarship that would make the whole school-in-London thing much less of a financial hardship for myself and my family. I have submitted me application and I am now waiting on one last letter of recommendation from a teacher.... and then I just have to wait and see. I want this scholarship. Badly. I want it so much that I am having trouble focusing on anything else.

Context

I think a little background information is in order:

It's been about a year since I first thought about how glamorous it sounded "studying abroad". But it all happened very quickly. In October, I visited England. A few weeks ago, my long-term boyfriend and I flew to L.A. where I presented my portfolio to two of the finest fashion schools in the world, and I was invited to attend Central St. Martins. In case you live outside of the design and art world, and have no idea what that means, it's a very, very big deal, and an honor I was not expecting.

I was not prepared to be invited to CSM, so I never visited the college, and never planned for the possibility. But here I am, and the decision has sort of been made for me. I have to go to London, now. This would be the opportunity I'd kick myself for passing up, if I let it go.

Now, the biggest deal: my boyfriend cannot come with me. It breaks my heart every day. It scares the living crap out of me, too. But I couldn't ask him to move, even if he wanted to. He has an amazing career, and a 7-year old daughter here. I am afraid of leaving everything and everyone I know behind, but I'm more terrified of facing a new country entirely alone without him. I am excited by it, too, though. It will be my first opportunity to stand alone, and figure myself out. I've always had someone to lean on for backup, and I am hoping this experience will help me finally grow up. And if the boy and I are meant to be together, we'll see how things work out when I come back. I sound brave when I say that, but really, I'm going to be a wreck as the actual moving approaches. I've had dreams about how hard it will be to get on the plane and leave him here. I'm one scared little girl, lemme tell ya.

All of my friends are excited for me. I keep meeting them for coffee so they can remind me why I should be thrilled. But I worry. And some part of me knows that this knot in my stomach wont relax until I've been in London for a while, and have settled in, learned my way around, made one friend. I hate the process of moving, and this will be the biggest move I've made. I will have to sell a lot of my stuff. I won't have any furniture that I can bring with me. My comfy bed will stay here. (I wonder if I can get new power cords for my sewing machine etc to fit the UK sockets...hmm.) And worst/best of all, I will have to spend some time figuring out where everything is again. Hm, I need hairdye, where the hell do I go? Food... where's the cheapest store? What's the comfiest coffee shop around? I've lived in San Francisco for about 4 years, but I have a very good sense of the place. How long it will take in a cab to get from one place to another; the easiest route to take when getting home from any place; the spots that are open late; the best pie in town. I will miss the comfort of all that. I will be fine once I'm in London. It's just hard facing all the steps between here and there.

Also, I won't lie: I am NOT looking forward to being a starving student. I am not well off, but I'm better off than some of my peers in school. I have a TV, a carpet on my floor, a good collection of books and movies I began collecting a few years ago. I have my own sewing machine and serger. And I have been found guilty of buying shoes instead of food. But I've never been in the position where I have to eat top ramen for weeks. When I get close to that, my boyfriend usually buys me some food (he's good like that). But once I move to the UK, I will be very poor. Not to sound like a terrible person or anything, but I do not do well when I'm poor. I get very self concious about it. I feel very sorry for myself, I'm afraid. And I have developed a taste for decadent experiences. I wonder how much of that is the fact that I have adult friends who live the lifestyle I want. Maybe being around other poor students won't make me so afraid of being poor. But, awful though I may be, I hope I can find people to remind me that it's okay to be a student and live like a student, on those days when I start to feel cranky and lonely.

So that about catches us up, I think. I am trying to be as honest as I can about my feelings about this move, right now. I have to finish about 6 months of school to get my Associates Degree in Fashion Design here in the states, and then my birthday will hit next fall. After which, I will head off to a rather lonely time, as I try and find my footing in the UK. I just now realized this will be my last holiday season here for a while. And, I missed my last Halloween. Aw man....