Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Pink Paper Knickers

Just got home from a wonderful experience I like to call "finally getting a bikini wax because I was embarrassed to go home to my regular esthetician looking so unkempt for fear that she would assume that the hair meant I hadn't gotten laid all semester and judge me for it." My friend Hannah had warned me that the place was very nice, "once you get over the fact that everything is pink." I assured her that for me, all pink is a definite bonus, not something to "get over" at all. She was not joking. Even the wax was pink.

Highlights included being told that I sound "just like that girl Whitney, the one on The City!" and being offered "paper knickers." Why yes thank you, I would love some paper knickers.

I may not be fitting in the "cultural stuff" in my last three weeks in this lovely city (I was supposed to go to the British Museum today but instead I waxed, got breakfast with Molly, and am now doing laundry and pretending to write one of my four papers) but I think I'm definitely experiencing the culture. When am I ever going to be offered paper knickers in New York, or have someone reference The City unironically, for that matter? Exactly.

I'll Be Home Soon

Maybe I should consider staying on this island until the whole swine flu thing dies down? I am only kind of kidding. But seriously, I need to come home soon before I gain back ALL 20 lbs I lost last semester and also become a full time alcoholic. All of which is to say...I'll be home in 18 days! And back in New York by June 1! Get ready to start celebrating (maybe coming home will not fix that potential alcoholic problem, actually.)

To Tweet or Not To Tweet

My future roomie is a wise lady. Sometimes I think the above reasoning is why I shouldn't Tweet/blog/speak ever. But then I tell myself to STFU and keep oversharing, because that's what Millennials do best. Even though Sam said she doesn't think oversharing is a "Millennial Thing." Which might be a valid point. It might just be a "Me Thing."

Monday, April 27, 2009

April 27th 2001

Today is April 27th. Which I suppose is only relevant to a blog reader if I explain what that means, and I really wasn't sure if I was going to or not. But I will, because I never know how I will wake up feeling on April 27th, and today I've woken up really sad, and it's pouring in London after a week of literally perfect weather, and I just need to write.

When I was in 7th grade, there was a bus crash at my middle school. The school band was headed to Nova Scotia and the driver took a very sharp turn and the bus rolled over and four people died. Four of my classmates. It would be a lie to say they were all my best friends–I barely knew the one girl, only said "hi" occasionally in the halls and once I asked her opinion about some lipgloss at Walgreens. But two of the four children were people I considered best friends: we sat together at lunch, hung out on weekends, talked on the phone for hours...we were very close. The day of the bus crash and the ones that followed are the worst of my life. Thank God I have not been affected so closely by death in other ways, either before or after this happened. But because of that, the bus crash remains the worst thing I can think of, the most traumatic event of my childhood, so to speak.

I think about it every single day. Not a day of the year passes without me thinking about my friends in some way. But of course on the anniversary of the crash each year I make a point to think about it. I think that is the way it always goes: while we mourn those we have lost constantly, and keep them in our thoughts and hearts always, we find it necessary to make those actions the forefront of the actual day of their death. It seems only appropriate, only right.

Being abroad has had me thinking more about the bus crash than I normally do, because I guess I'm viewing it as a "landmark." I get most sad about it when my peers and I hit landmarks in our lives: going to high school, prom, graduation, first summer after college...it's not that I think these are the things in life that my friends might have most wished to partake in, but it is more the strong hit of the realization that they cannot. It has been 8 years now, and as each one passes every living one of us grows, matures, changes...but these four friends can't. They will be 12 and 13 forever. 

This reality is so hard to swallow, so upsetting to me. Some days it hits me out of the blue and I find myself tearing up on the subway, wondering where Steve would have applied to college. Or I am suddenly inconsolable at the grocery store, because I've forgotten the name of the boy Kayla was dating when she died and I'm wondering if she'd have a serious boyfriend now. But most days I manage to coast along, because that is what we do: we mourn, but we continue to live...what else can you do? The landmarks, however, give me reason to stop and think. And on the biggest landmark of all, the date of the crash, I encourage myself to do just that. It is the only plausible thing to do on the day–anything else would feel selfish and wrong.

And so today is April 27th. I had a hard time being away from home for this day three years ago, because I was used to the support of everyone who had understood. It is hard being so far away this year, but thankfully a close friend from home is also studying in London and I'm going to meet her in a bit; we'll spend the afternoon together, just talking and being together.

I remind myself each year that there is no right or wrong way to feel on this day. Last year I was efficient, going to class and work and not skipping a beat. I knew what day it was all day, of course, but I managed to participate in my life. Four years ago, on the other hand, I didn't end up going to school because I woke up and couldn't stop crying. Today I am up and just feeling so sad. I don't understand why anyone has to die so young, and I just wish my friends were still alive and grown up. I wish I knew them as they would be now.

Death is a really fucked up topic because I feel as though no one knows what to say. I don't really know what I am saying here. Just that today is a really important day for me, to remember, and that I am sad, and that I wish I were home today, and that you never forget certain things and this is one of them. And also that some things will never make sense and this is one of them.

Friday, April 24, 2009

"Remember when you weren't going to be a shitshow?"

As someone who is known for awful, uncontrollable, embarrassing, and detrimental drunk texting, I can relate one hundred percent to Texts From Last Night and am absolutely obsessed. Check it out and I swear you won't feel so bad about that time you ended up sobbing on the bathroom floor of Cosmic Cantina after you took that 6th stupid flaming shot and then drunk dialed your ex-non-boyfriend and left him a voicemail that you don't remember at all and then he didn't talk to you for five months because "it was the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me." Not that I've ever done that ever, or anything.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Just another lame apology for not posting frequently anymore

Hi blog. I exist. I got home from my 17 day epic excursion yesterday and in typical fashion I have yet to unpack, do laundry, or shower. My family is in London for a week now so I probably won't have much time to fuck around on the computer, though I tend to make time for that pretty easily so maybe I will. I have to register for classes, send in my thesis proposal, write some essays and do some real homework for London (such a foreign concept), and then pack up in a month to come home. I definitely have a lot to say, but as I find myself typing a lot this semester, I don't necessarily have the time right now to say it all. I'll be posting a lot of spring break photos in a series of posts over the next few days, and hopefully I'll get a chance to write some of the ridiculous musings that are currently floating around my head. But hey, it's spring time. We should all get off the internet and enjoy the sun anyway, or something. Just wanted to let you all know I'm still kicking.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Last minute travel advice from my mom

When I visited Ireland a few weeks ago I accidentally ended up going home with a stranger. I didn't stay the night and I didn't get chopped up into a million pieces, so I figured I was home free. Then I made the mistake of accidentally telling my mom. This is an excerpt from the email I received in response:
You have so much going for you & so much to look forward to in your life that it would be a pity to risk some terrible event as a result of merely going home with some stranger who could just turn out to be an axe murderer!! Whether or not you have good judgement is by the by!! Please be very careful while you are away. People in foreign countries really do have different views & ideas about things besides which they may actually be psychotic.
I just Skyped with her to say goodbye because I'm embarking on spring break in a few hours, and we got back to the subject of strangers/strange men/appropriate behavior. "Mom, you want me to act like every guy I meet is a potential rapist," I accused. Her response? "Well, it's good if you think that because then if they're not it's a nice surprise!"

And with that, I leave for my almost-three-week vacation. I'll probably be sans Internet the whole time. Try not to miss me too much!