Scholarship

The magical scholarship is a no-go. I got word that I was not selected a few days ago. The disappointment was slight because I realized that I didn't expect to get it. We had too many issues in the application process for it to go over smoothly.

The hunt for new scholarships begins now...

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.

London Process Update

"This might be the beginning of a funny story," I told my mom on the phone the day I received my acceptance letter from London. "See, I got my letter today.... and they put me in the wrong school."
"The wrong school?!"
"Yep."
Turns out, it wasn't funny at all. Just a little messy. Hopefully it will all be sorted in a few days and I will be sent my new and improved letter of acceptance from CSM.

In the meantime, I am trying to pick out my hall of residence. I've narrowed it down to five possibilities, all of which are out of my price range, and three of which are kinda far away from my school. I think. I'm not sure which branch of CSM I'll be in. Getting information is hard, and I wish I had a contact at the school outside of my admissions advisor who I don't like to bother (she is very kind, but very busy).

Looking over these very basic descriptions of houses, I keep coming back to the scholarship I'm waiting on. I will not know if I got it until April, and I'm trying to not get my hopes up. But it would make this whole housing thing easier because it would pay for my entire tuition. But I need to make housing decisions before then, ideally. It's a little complicated.

And lately, I've been feeling a little sad about moving again. I keep remembering this one day I had in London. It was a little gray out, and I was wandering around picadilly circus area. I was lost (no one's discovered the miracle of clearly labeled street signs in London) and starved. I sat down in a little cafe and ordered a sandwich. I had on five layers and a heavy coat, but the cafe was hot and I was taking off layers as fast as I could when my tasteless sandwich arrived. I stared out of the muggy cafe onto a street full of people. The tables surrounding me were occupied by friends having coffee and an occasional couple. I was the only person there alone, hunched over my food, staring out the window. I became very aware just then of how lonely I felt, spending all my time alone. I was seeing amazing things and having a good time, but I had no one to talk to about it. Getting lost alone is kinda nerve-wracking, but getting lost with someone else is funny. Seeing beautiful things alone made my heart sink into my stomach. I am not as much of a loner as I think I am.

Granted, things would be different if I had a home base within the city. Having nowhere to go that I could just be happily alone made that moment in the cafe much sadder for me. But I worry that London will not feel like home for a while. My little dorm room will not be a home for a while either, in the way I mean. It took me a couple of years and three different apartments before I felt like San Francisco was my home, even though I'd spent a lot of time here, and I had friends, family, and a life already built around the city.

I have a good support structure here, with a few very close friends I can come to when I need some comfort. But there, I will be starting life over, alone, without my support. Yes I can call them, or email them, but not in the same casual manner I can now. I will not have my crazy family nearby, my boyfriend, my friends, my stuff. My habits will have to change, my expectations, my fears of appearing foolish (because I will, a lot)... I will have to go through everything alone, for the first time. It makes my stomach hurt, thinking about it. I wish I could just take one person with me, to share the city with. I wish I could transport aspects of my life over to London. Just stick my best friend and my favorite cafe in a handbag and get on the plane. I'd feel much happier.

Speaking of the plane, I've been trying to decide how to deal with that. Who will drop me off at the airport on the day I leave? Who will wave goodbye and make me cry the least? Or should I just go alone and get it over with? I dread that day. Arrival in London, a few weeks in, school starting.... these are all things I'm terribly nervous about, but I dread the day I have to fly out from SFO. I tear up just thinking about it.

I haven't slept well in two weeks because I'm worried about the move. I'm worried about the loneliness, really. Giving up half of my stuff is not a problem. Starting life in a new city is exciting. Going to CSM is terrifying and exciting. But doing it all by myself, thousands of miles away from everyone and everything I know and love is tainting the situation for me. I am not looking forward to it at all, right now.

My friends are all so proud of me. They like to show me off, and tell people how I got into the greatest school ever. They like to parade me around a little. I put on a decent show, but it kinda irks me. I'm touched that everyone else is happy for me, but they aren't the ones who have to actually do all the hard parts. They get to stay where they are, safe and warm, and smile at the idea of studying abroad. It's a romantic notion. It's a scary reality. Their lives will be the same, minus me. And for many of them, that will not be a huge difference, just an occasional Me-shaped emptiness that passes by them. I'm the one that will be going through one of the most difficult school programs in the world (which I am not ready for, in my opinion), alone and kind of lost.

I will make new friends. I talk easily. I will find new favorite cafes and bars. I will get to know the transit lines, and the cheapest food stores, and the ways in which British culture will accept my strange quirks. I will come to understand social expectations, and cultural taboos, and ways to walk the edges of sub cultures, the way I do here. I know boundaries here, and I know when I cross them, or what sort of statement I make, and confusion I cause with my appearance or my actions. Before I attempt to cross any lines and make my own place in the world, I need to learn where the lines are. We speak a similar language, but it is not the same. Our cultures are similar, but it is a different world. I AM moving to a FOREIGN country.

What it comes down to is that I am scared of being lonely. I do not trust my own judgement, or decisions. I worry I am making mistakes every step of the way until I get where I'm going. I am a harsh, harsh self-critic, and it takes other's presence for me to allow myself the freedom to fuck up. I used to think I was a loner, but I realize now that I need people around me to feel safe. I like my own, quiet time, but to have it forced upon me....

I am just scared.

Goodbye, Mom

I just got off the phone with my mom, and realized for the first time that I will really truly miss her when I leave. We have had our differences, but she is my mom, and she loves me unconditionally. She is really happy for me, and very proud of me, and even a little jealous, but by next fall, she will be half way around the world, eight hours apart, and living on a separate land mass from me.

I keep thinking about London as though my life, my favorite people, and my apartment will be transplanted there with only minor changes. It's slowly sinking in that I not only have eight months left with my boyfriend and my friends, but also with my family. And I realized that I will arrive in London alone, find my way to CSM alone, and sleep there alone in my little room while I try and create a new life for myself in a place where I know almost no one. And I know I will build a life there, but it will take time. And there will be things I will love, and things I will hate, just like here. I will find some people that I like, and some that I despise, and some that I will laugh at. But it will take time.

I suppose tonight is the first time I really understood that I will be starting over, and truly alone for the first time in my life.

Suddenly I realize how short eight months is....

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.

UK Yankee

I found this forum called UK Yankee the other day, geared specifically towards US expatriotes living in the UK.

I made the mistake of reading the thread about all the things people miss about the US now that they've moved. I felt a little sad for the rest of the day. But today I found a new 19 page thread about the things people love about their new lives in the UK.... and it made me feel a lot better about leaving.

I've bookmarked the Good Things thread, and read a few postings every day to remind myself that it will all be okay.

Excitement

Two or three weeks ago, I began noticing a tiny hint of happiness peeking through my otherwise abysmal outlook on life. It seemed the shock and sadness about moving to London began to lift, and these days I am not lying when I tell people I am excited to be going.

I am actually excited to be going.

During my last few days traveling about London, I stopped feeling like a tourist, and began allowing myself to pass by certain things I wanted to see. It felt like I already lived in the city, and I felt confident I would be able to see everything at another time. I was sure I'd move there and be happy. Lately I've been able to recall that sense, and remind myself that I was happy there. I was inspired there. I was fucking freezing there too, but that's nothing a few sweaters won't fix. I have gotten stuck in a rut here in San Francisco. I love this city, and I love my friends, but I am bored. And I need to do something differently for a while. One of my New Years resolutions was to shake things up, and have new experiences. I think I can safely say that 2008 will hold a lot of opportunities to do that....

A friend of mine here is moving to New York in a few months. We've been discussing how strange it is to buy a one-way ticket somewhere. Neither one of us has ever done it before, and something about it feels empowering and saddening at the same time. It's just so definite. So final. It means you've made a decision and will follow it through, alone. It's your next move and you've committed to it.

Right now, I'm in the midst of applying for a scholarship that would pay for one full year of my tuition at CSM, and maybe ever more. The deadline in Feb 1st, and I'm scrambling to get all the paperwork in. My current school has to recommend me, and they will do so if I get all my paperwork in to them in the next week or so. I'll be the first student from the San Francisco campus to be recommended for this scholarship. It sounds like an honor, but really it's just another way that my school ignores the SF campus in favor of the publicity-abound LA campus. Grr Hiss Boo.

I will keep you updated.

Something Pretty

It's been a bleak and gray day here. Rainy and miserable. Maybe thats why I've had a low-level nervousness all day about boyfriend-leaving and London, again. So all I'm posting is this pretty photograph to soothe my mind.

London Trip Journal Entries: part 1

Today I've been feeling rather down, so I decided to flip through some writing I did in London. I thought I'd transcribe a few entries, and share a few photos:

"October 19

Sitting in a cafe in Cambridge now. It's been an oh-so-extravagant afternoon for me- I bought a hoodie! Or a jumper, as they'd call it. I feel incredibly under dressed here in jeans and my converse all stars. I forgot what slobs Americans look like next to Europeans. I haven't quite figured out how to dress for Cambridge or London yet. I feel so silly worrying about these things, but I can't help it.

Anyhow, today I wanted to write about some differences I've noticed. Everything is a little bit odd to me. It's all familiar-enough to make me feel like it's a safe adventure, but different-enough to force me to pay attention to everything, all the time. Social expectations are a little lost on me, but I can feel they are different from San Francisco.

I've noticed how environmentally aware people are. Lifestyle changes to save the planet aren't great burdens placed upon them, but necessary shifts in attitude. A lot of people have washers but no dryers, for instance. There are taxes imposed upon drivers in certain areas. It's just a different attitude about things. Convenience always wins out in America, but it doesn't seem to be the case here. I appreciate a certain level of convenience though... it's hard to judge how things are here when I'm only here for two weeks.

Money is another thing. People spend money differently here. Of course everything seems expensive to me, but that's because of the exchange rate. But $20 is almost throw-away cash to me, while the people I was with balk at spending £19 on something like a toaster. I don't know how to explain it, but Cambridge people aren't consumers in the same way Americans are. I'm not sure how to explain the difference. It IS expensive here. But, hm... it's like $20 isn't the same as £20 worth of stuff. It's like everything is about 1/3 more expensive. I'm not talking about the exchange rate, but if $1 had the same worth as £1, then what we buy for that dollar would cost £1.30 to them. I dunno if I'm explaining it right. There's just a difference in what the money is worth...

A few other differences in phrasing, "for rent" is posted as "to let". Of course there are the obvious "vest", "trousers" versus "pants", "jumper", "brolly" , "wellies", etc. I was looking for my black pants and had my young cousins in fits of giggles before I realized that "pants" means underwear. Whoops, I meant looking for my trousers, kids.

Also, doorknobs. Placed higher than anything in the US. On almost everything. My hand keeps bumping things while searching for the handles. And half the time they don't even have handles, just a lock that you open the door with as you turn the key..."





"Oct 20

A Greek, a German, and an American went to London...

It sounds like the beginning of a joke, but it was the start of my first day in London. I met up with a few students from Cambridge at the train station this morning. It was very cold, despite my layers, and the coffee in my hands didn't seem to be warming them any. (I think I've begun buying coffee every few hours just to keep my fingers from freezing. CAFFEINE WEE!!!) I met up with my two traveling companions, and we made our way into the city.

We began our day at the British Museum, seeing the largest collection of Egyptian, Assyrian, and Grecian art I'd ever seen. It was overwhelming, and we didn't even see half of the museum.

We met up with some friends (two more Greeks, another German, and another American) at a local pub for lunch, where I was surprised to learn that pub food is NOT bar food. Pub culture is somewhere between bar and coffee house culture. It's a social space with alcohol, but you can take your kids with you, or write there, or meet there. It's not a bar, or a club. And the food wasn't so bad.

After lunch we did the tourist thing, and walked down to see Parliament and Big Ben- which wasn't nearly as tall as films make it look. It was lit to its best advantage though, and looked stunning. It was neat to see such an iconic structure. When I took a picture, someone walked by yelling, "it's just a CLOCK!" Yes, but it's a pretty clock. *shrug*

We continued along the bridge to the South Bank area, which was more touristy. We walked along the river bank, listening to the water lapping against the cement and mixing itself with the sand. It was here we watched the sun go down, amongst kids on skateboards, a mime or two, and tourists pointing crudely at one thing or another.

It was low tide, and two artists were making a sand sculpture in a protected sandy area along the river. I threw a few coins into the center of their target on the ground that said "please throw a coin if you take a photo", and recorded their brilliant little sand octopus. Why are tentacled beings so damn cute?

One thing I noted today: the soles of my boots are very thin, and the streets and sidewalks here are very textured. Rarely do you see the solid, uniformed blocks of cement that create the San Francisco walking experience. Here I could feel edges of bricks, cobblestones, and textured pavement every few feet. It drove me a little crazy.

There are no billboards here either- advertising is prohibited excepting buses and the Underground. So of course, every available surface of the Underground is covered in ads. But it was refreshing to note the architecture around London, instead of the crap that usually covers the architecture.

We wandered all over the South Bank area until we could see Tower Bridge. I took a billion photos today. Everything was lovely, and I think I could get used to living here. I feel refreshed, even though my legs ache.




We were all tired and silent on the train ride home. But I was lucky enough to catch the barista at the coffee stand in the Cambridge train station, and I got a steaming Hot Chocolate to sip as I bundled up and walked home. Yum."

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....