February: On the fifth of this month, I sailed off to London for the beginning of my semester abroad. (And by sailed, I mean figuratively speaking, though someday I would love to take a ship across the ocean.) I was both thrilled and terrified by the experience. I will always remember that first day—I spent most of the flight staring out the window, even when it was dark; met up immediately with my best friend in Heathrow, from whence we took a taxi to our respective homestays. I was struck by how much my host family reminded me of my grandparents—lovely, politely brisk people who were immediately welcome and comfortable with me there. They escorted me up to my small, third-floor room, where I shut the door, collapsed on the bed and had a minor panic attack at the idea of being so far from home.
March: I
quickly acclimated, however. I was not
only abroad, but living in a big city for the first time, and it was a
thrilling experience. The culture of the
city—food, plays, history, parks, everything—was marvelous, and I had many
friends to accompany me. I maintain that
this semester is what cured me of the worst of my anti-socialism. March also included a trip to Budapest, which
was absolutely incredible, an opportunity I never would have thought to have,
and to Oxford with a group of friends.
April:
Classes in London were remarkably easy—I had little trouble keeping up. We had tea breaks in the middle of the
three-hour classes, and my Shakespeare course involved several trips to see
plays. Twice I visited the Globe, which
was wonderful (if a bit chilly). The
class also had a chance to visit Stratford-upon-Avon, a beautiful place, and
later in the month was a trip to Bath.
Simply looking out the bus windows at the countryside was
memorable. On the last week of the month
was our spring break, and I spent the first weekend of it in Ireland, a trip
that I’d been looking forward to for many years. I visited Dingle, the little town where my
father’s family came from, but I spent more time memorizing the land itself
than looking for its people. The rocky
coastlines, the startling green hills, and the smell and color of gorse in the
cool morning—it was magnificent. I
sprained my foot and got a terrible sunburn, but still returned to England
quite content.
May: By the
time the end of the semester came around, I was ready to come home. I’m not someone easily afflicted by
wanderlust: I don’t like living out of a suitcase, and just the idea that I
will be leaving a place in a short time makes me restless and uneasy. I miss many things about London—the convenience
of the underground, the numberless theatres, and (I confess) the cheap and
healthy food from Marks & Spencer or Pret a Manger—but America is where I belong,
and I was happy to be back with my family.
June, July,
& August: I knot these together because they were rather homogenous. My summer job was simply acquired by emailing
my student work supervisor, who hires an assistant every summer. She was glad to have me, and so I came and
worked nine to five, living at Hollins and walking to work every morning. It was a comfortable time—the campus was
quiet, I was familiar with my work in the archives, and I had the freedom in
the evenings of going out or staying in, writing or surfing the web. The one notable event of these two months was
my twenty-first birthday in July, on which occasion my parents drove up to
visit me and take me out to dinner. Soon
after, I drove over to Richmond to visit my roommate Taylor, who brought me
along to a “party” at a friend’s house, which was not impressive and served an
excess of rather non-impressive drinks.
A very memorable event. August
culminated with the purchase of my first car, a white Hyundai which I
christened Baxter.
September:
This was the beginning of my senior year, and I remember spending much of it
trying to straighten out my very busy schedule.
I was taking three classes, two private music lessons, was involved in
two choirs, and was working fifteen hours a week, on top of beginning my honors
thesis. To me, September has always
seemed interminable, and I don’t really like to remember it.
October: On
the contrary, October seemed to race by.
I was finally settling into my schedule, finished with several different
projects and not quite ready to face final projects yet. It was a good month for my creativity,
writing my thesis as well as other projects, and also in writing music. I also began to realize just how much of a
hermit I had been the past three years of attending Hollins. Somewhat to my surprise, I found that I had a
bit of a social life now, and even more surprising, I liked it.
November: I
had a meeting midway through this month with my creative writing
professor. When I told her I wanted to
continue writing after school, she recommended I meet with a friend of hers,
the editor of a local business magazine.
I appreciated this because it meant she believed I not only could
continue writing, but should. This very
cheering news was followed by other pieces of good news, among them an
invitation to join the English honors society and the continuing approval of my
thesis advisor on my novel. On the other hand, computer troubles over Thanksgiving break only added to the stress of the coming exam days.
December:
This month began with exams and almost a straight ten days of choir
rehearsals and performances. It’s in
times like this that you really have to live one day at a time. Finally, however, I was finished, and I
retreated home for a few weeks of rest before returning for the home stretch on
my education.
All in all,
an excellent year. I think I learned a
good bit about myself as well as about the world around me. I hope, however, that 2012 will bring more
excitement, novelty, and opportunity into my life. Happy new year, everyone!
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