I woke up Saturday morning with a fairly large task at hand: fitting everything I had acquired during the semester into my two suitcases, one carry-on and one personal bag. In a definitely non-hoardish way, I had collected a lot of random ticket stubs and magazines over the semester (my desk drawer was stuffed with random papers) and was hoping to finish scrap-booking and throw the rest of the scraps away. But with our coach bus arriving in two hours, there was no such time. Rather than risk throwing away a potential scrap of paper for my book, I decided to bring it all with me to the airport (Am I brilliant or what??). So I stuffed my backpack with trash, squeezed the rest of my clothes into the two suitcases, and looked around. I had no room for all of my school books. I absolutely had to bring them home. Ignoring the time, I decided to pack them in a box and mail them to Ellington. (Dad has since told me that it would have been cheaper to re-buy all of my books than it was to mail them home. But oh well.) So as everyone else in my flat was taking pictures of themselves in and around the house in tearful goodbyes, I was making my way to the post office.
I probably should mention two other things. First, I had laundry in the wash. (Why? Because I wanted clean clothes to wear for the flight and it seemed logical at the time.) Second, I was wearing my pajamas; all my clothes were either packed or in said wash. And unlike in America, no civilized person in London wears pajamas in public. Furthermore, the buses were infrequent because it was weekend, so I had to walk the entire way down the hill to Archway. Carrying a heavy box. Wearing heavy rain boots. To say I was stressed would be an understatement.
My anxiety continued to increase once I reached the post office. The line for sending packages was almost out the door, and there were only two staff members working at the desk. Fully aware of how disheveled I looked, I tried to pass the time by making conversation with an old English couple who were sending Christmas presents to their grand kids. I probably further solidified the "Lazy, Impatient American" stereotype but that was the least of my worries. Time was ticking. The coach bus was expected to arrive at 11:30 and it was already 10:30. I began to imagine what it would be like to miss the bus entirely.
The man at the front desk could tell I was stressed, and rather than working faster, he decided to try to calm me down. He left for what felt like five minutes and came back with a glass of water, telling me to "drink and you'll feel better." Um, thank you but all I need is for you to process my package, please. I left with a 300 dollar charge on my credit card, but I was too concerned with making it back up the hill to worry about it.
I reached the driveway to find the coach bus already there. It had arrived early. Panicked, I ran to the laundry room. Anna had switched my load for me, but my clothes were far from dry. I debated wearing wet clothes to the airport. Then I threw the load back in and went upstairs. I hadn't managed to fit everything into the two suitcases, so I decided to use several bags and work on consolidating when I got to the airport. With minutes to spare, I brought everything down to be loaded onto the bus, and then stood waiting in front of the dryer. (Every minute counts, right?) I was get a few "goodbye" photos in while I waited, and miraculously, the load finished before the coach bus guy was ready to leave.
(Left: Kellie and Me, Middle: My room before I threw everything into a random bag, Right: one last glance at my flat).
I brought scissors and glue with me on the coach bus, set up a trash bag, and managed to finish my scrapbook during the drive to the airport. Throwing away all the scrap paper, I had plenty of room in my backpack for my newly washed laundry and the other odds and ends I had with me. Scrapbook? Check. Consolidation? Check. I call that a success!
And now that it is (and has been for awhile), I've come to several realizations:
10.) I learned that Europe has mastered public transportation.
 |
| All my bags are full. Now what? |
I probably should mention two other things. First, I had laundry in the wash. (Why? Because I wanted clean clothes to wear for the flight and it seemed logical at the time.) Second, I was wearing my pajamas; all my clothes were either packed or in said wash. And unlike in America, no civilized person in London wears pajamas in public. Furthermore, the buses were infrequent because it was weekend, so I had to walk the entire way down the hill to Archway. Carrying a heavy box. Wearing heavy rain boots. To say I was stressed would be an understatement.
My anxiety continued to increase once I reached the post office. The line for sending packages was almost out the door, and there were only two staff members working at the desk. Fully aware of how disheveled I looked, I tried to pass the time by making conversation with an old English couple who were sending Christmas presents to their grand kids. I probably further solidified the "Lazy, Impatient American" stereotype but that was the least of my worries. Time was ticking. The coach bus was expected to arrive at 11:30 and it was already 10:30. I began to imagine what it would be like to miss the bus entirely.
 |
| Waiting for the bus that never came... |
The man at the front desk could tell I was stressed, and rather than working faster, he decided to try to calm me down. He left for what felt like five minutes and came back with a glass of water, telling me to "drink and you'll feel better." Um, thank you but all I need is for you to process my package, please. I left with a 300 dollar charge on my credit card, but I was too concerned with making it back up the hill to worry about it.
 |
| Waiting for the guy to come back with water... |
I brought scissors and glue with me on the coach bus, set up a trash bag, and managed to finish my scrapbook during the drive to the airport. Throwing away all the scrap paper, I had plenty of room in my backpack for my newly washed laundry and the other odds and ends I had with me. Scrapbook? Check. Consolidation? Check. I call that a success!
At the airport, we said goodbye to Emma Grant (our Student Services Officer at the London Center, right), checked our bags, and headed for airport security. In case you are wondering, scrap-booking scissors are not allowed through!
Emelie and I continued our tradition of airport dining. Conveyor belt sushi :)
And then we boarded the plane. I still had one last final to submit, and I planned to work on it on the plane. I was too giddy, though, and ended up watching Tarzan and talking with friends until we arrived in Newark.
Our families weren't allowed to meet us at baggage claim, so we said most of us our goodbyes as we waited for our luggage. It was a sweet moment, albeit hectic; I was experiencing so many mixed emotions. I couldn't wait to see my family, but I knew that as soon as I left baggage claim, my semester abroad would officially be over.  |
| Marisa, Anna, Amanda and Me as we stood in line to leave baggage claim; minutes before seeing our families. |
10.) I learned that Europe has mastered public transportation.
9.) I learned that putting milk in tea is not as gross as it sounds.
8.) I learned that UK school systems are vastly different from ours...dare I say better?
7.) I learned that dressing up for school every day is not the worst thing.
6.) I learned that Thanksgiving is (almost) as good overseas.
5.) I learned that the United States is very large (in more ways than one).
4.) I learned that money is just that.
3.) I learned that nothing replaces family.
2.) I learned that I'm just a little spec in the universe, and that can get kinda lonely.
But, most of all:
1.) I learned that God is the same God in London and that there are plenty of "kindred spirits" all around the world...I just need to let Him lead me to them!
It’s been a crazy journey. Thanks for following along!
