a weary two days.

After months of thinking, wondering and daydreaming, I finally arrived in London yesterday. Unfortunatly, I can barley remember my first few moments. A painful jet-lag hangover stuck with me most of the day. Even after a short nap I was mixing words and muddling thoughts. I actually started to write a blog entry yesterday, but after rereading what I wrote, deleted the post in its entirety.

The weariness broke soon after dinner. Canden, a friend who recently graduated from Elon, took us out to a restaurant for fish and chips (of course). It was nice to see a familiar face, especially since she's already been here a month, and knows her way around the city quite well. The first night in any big city can be daunting. But knowing that I live here and need to be learning street names, tube stops and where to get a deal on milk -- it can be a lot! I've already had to remind myself that this is not vacation -- class starts next week so I'd better work fast!

I cut together this short slideshow a little bit ago. I will not lie -- it is kind of crude. But I figured the point was not to produce a masterpiece, but rather convey an idea of the day to day life. This one covers the first two days.



I only really showed a little bit of the flat. But to go into more detail -- I'm living with 7 other girls. There's 3 bedrooms, all of them look pretty much like mine. Each room has its own bathroom as well. It was certainly a pleasant suprise. The rooms are a lot larger than I expected! Lovely!

the empty room.

Moving is exhausting. And I don't think I am very good at it. Instead of putting everything neatly into boxes, I tend to try and utilize what I have. A rolling suitcase becomes a portable bookshelf. My laundry bag, a linen closet. Then there is the sock basket that overflows with the random things that had no other place: an alarm clock, a half empty bottle of shampoo, a blue case of waxed dental floss and a pink polka-dotted sock (whose pair I have seen, but am not sure where.)

The only thing that I really like about moving is the accomplished feeling that usually follows. When I woke up this morning my dorm room was full of lots of things. Tall things, heavy things, things to be thrown away and things to be wrapped delicately in newspaper and placed into a sturdy box. But as I left, it was an empty shell waiting for its next tenant.

I like the optimism of an empty room. It has the potential to become anything. Perhaps it is my affinity for Home and Garden Television that draws me to appreciate such a clean slate. But I think it might also have something to do with my desire to start anew every so often. If you continue to read my blog, you will find that I am awfully fond of symbols. I see them practically everywhere thanks to a lifetime of quality English teachers.

For me, the empty room and my life are kind of similar right now. They are both getting ready to be refilled with new things. They are both awaiting new life.

leaving not losing.

With a week left to go in my countdown to London I find myself with a set of conflicting emotions. An overwhelming excitement builds within me as I daydream about my first few moments in London. Will I comprehend where I am? Will I be too tired to care? Or will I run out immediately and begin enjoying the city-life that I have been eagerly anticipating? Probably a mixture of all three. Though I have spent the past year thinking about my stay in London, I know that the minute I am there, none of that will matter. My daily devotion of imagining where I'll visit, who I'll meet and even what I'll wear will dissipate as reality sets in. It will be scary -- it will be awesome.

I've always loved doing things that push me. I believe that you cannot find the edge of comfort if you do not seek to surpass it. In many ways, this trip is about pushing outward. I'm leaving Elon, a place that I love to be, despite my constant criticism. I'm leaving the comfort of family a half-dozen states away. I'm leaving chances that I would have taken and opportunities that I would have met. I'm leaving a boyfriend with whom I am very much in love. I'm leaving the three jobs which have helped finance this endeavour. I'm leaving a little brother who turns 13 too soon for me to believe. I'm leaving friends who say they'll keep in touch -- but we'll see. Yes, indeed, I am leaving a lot.

What I do keep telling myself which helps to stifle my fears is this: "Olivia. You are leaving, not losing." Because really, everything I am leaving will not be lost. Different -- probably. But certainly not lost.