Day of Recovery

Jet lag, to me at least, felt like I lost Myself and it took a few days for it to find me again.  If I concentrated long enough, I could almost touch it and I would feel fine for the briefest of moments.  But it was only fleeting, and only if I sat really still.  Then I would disappear again, and I would hope that I knew the way back to my Body.  Because I wasn't going to live in Britain without Myself to tag along.

This morning, when I woke up, I felt more whole than I have been for a few reasons.  The most obvious one is the fact that I had a dream this morning.  This means that my mind is getting back to normal.  I'm finding Myself.  As I was returning from the interview, I had one of those daydreams where you're suddenly really successful or famous for a reason that can only happen in your wildest dreams.  (But because you dream it, it'll never come true.  Have you ever realized that people never think they'll be successful or famous before they attain it?  But I digress).

I do feel more stable living on my own now than I've been before.  My mood is better when I'm alone.  I still tear up when I think of home, but I give myself the benefit of the doubt.  I am halfway across the world after all.  Alone?  Not entirely . . . not anymore.

~ ~ ~

I arrived half an hour earlier than I anticipated at my interview.  Marianne and Libby were flexible and they talked with Molly (the other intern) and I together instead of separately.  I feel like Molly's answers to their questions were more thought-out, but it's possible she felt the same about my answers.  We both start on Friday, and we both will be pulling two full days of the week.  Which means that I'll have nothing on Monday and Thursdays until my first class at three in the afternoon.  Class for me on Tuesdays start at ten in the morning, and I work from nine to five (I'll have to confirm the hours again because I'm not positive about this) Wednesday and Friday.  They want us to have full days because we can get more work done then.

But I have the job and I'm looking forward to it.  It's a really small company, only about fourteen people, but it's fairly successful I imagine.  And because it's so small, I won't just be an editorial intern, I'll also be working with marketing and sometimes in design.  So they asked about our background in art or if we're involved with crafts after they asked what we hoped to gain out of the internship.  I answered honestly, which is the best I could do because I'm sure they can see through some off-the-fly BS.  Anyone can tell I'm lying.  (I know this because Teagan knew I was the mafia while playing Mafia earlier in September.  Also, I'm quite obvious.)

A day or two ago, I emailed my IAP adviser and told her I wanted to talk with someone who's studied abroad.  As you know, I was feeling lonely and I wanted to know how someone got over it.  The girl who called me is named Lindzey and she studied in Ireland last spring.  We chatted for a good forty-give minutes about experiences abroad and life in general, abroad or otherwise.  She told me that things will get better, that I should join a Society or two to meet new people, and she recommended traveling with Americans because Europeans have done everything already.  I was feeling better before she called, but I'm still very glad she did because now I feel even better than I was.  She gave me her email and invited me to friend her on Facebook so I can contact her again if I ever need any help.

By the way, Mom and Dad, her parents went to visit her towards the end of her visit.  However, their visit was extended from the ash cloud from Iceland, but they still visited.  She was staying in an apartment with other Americans (presumably from Madison as well), and a couple of THEIR parents visited them too!  Are you speaking my language?  Mom, I know you're fluent in KT.

When I finished the phone call, I got a snack from the kitchen and Alice and Vanessa were talking there.  I ate my orange with them and then we went our separate ways.  Vanessa asked why I didn't like being alone and I told her that I've spend the last two years of my life with another person in the room.  We didn't have to talk, we just had to sit in each others' company.  So Vanessa came back to my room and we looked at prices for traveling and such.  I showed her a map of the US and told her a few stories about the pictures in my room.  She was fascinated by it.

So, I'm starting to wonder about Vanessa.  As in, how integrated into the Western culture is she?  She asked me what science fiction is, which I thought anyone could at least comprehend if they couldn't give an accurate definition (I couldn't --- her question caught me off guard).  And I asked if I could add her on Facebook, and she said that she didn't have one because she thought it was confusing.  But I'll give her the benefit of the doubt because I really don't know her background or life story.  I only know she's originally from Nigeria and moved to Leeds three years ago.  So she might not know as much about Westerners as I think she does.

I still consider her a friend.  She's willing to do things if I ask.

Another thing, she has a strong reaction to my keeping my door open through my wonderful duct tape engineering.  She thinks someone is going to come in and do something.  I asked her who is going to come in a do something.  I don't really make enemies, and they don't allow strangers to waltz right into the dorm building.  But for her, it's a comfort thing.  She feels safe when she's in her room.  It's her sanctuary.

I'm not the only one experiencing a completely different culture.

When I went to make dinner, I started to fry sausages in a sauce pan (I'm totally in college).  However, the oven doesn't heat up on the seventh floor.  Or it does, but it takes ages just to get the heat evenly distributed throughout the pan.  As I was cooking said sausages, Chris from across the hall came in and invited me to the eighth floor because the stove works up there.  It was really nice.

At once, there was a total of five to six people in that kitchen making their dinner.  Well, Amanda, Amanda, Chris, and I were making dinner.  The other guy, let's call him Boxing Guy because he's a boxer and gets his protein shake mix for free from his gym, was mixing his protein shakes.  Later on, Kevin from Paris came by and we sat around but he didn't really eat.  I like the eighth floor kitchen better than mine.  You can use all the utensils and no one really cares as long as you wash them and return them.  (Except I accidentally stole a fork.  I'll have to return it tomorrow or something.)  And the entire place was well stocked and not really empty like the seventh floor kitchen.  They were going out later tonight, but I don't want to go out until I'm fully Myself again.

After dinner, Oscar stopped by and we watched some anime.  Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood, if you're interested.  He's heard of it, but he hasn't actually seen it.  Lucky for him I'm towards the beginning.  I'm afraid I did a poor job of explaining the events, but he didn't ask too many questions during the episode and a half we saw.  He asked a lot while we were waiting for it to buffer, though.  I don't mind.  This is his first time seeing it, after all.

Then I Skyped my parents which is the unofficial end of my day.  Sorry for the longevity of this post, but my life is pretty full at the moment.  And this is to keep you up to date on everything I've been doing.  To kudos to you for reading me thus far.  Give me your address and you'll get a cheap postcard in return.  Give me an address and a British Pound and you'll get a fancier postcard.  (Just kidding.  Just the address is fine if you want one).

Tomorrow:  British Natural History Museum with Oscar!!  (expect pictures)