The Countdown: Only Two Days to Home!

 It feels like I'm living in some sort of bizarro land straight out of the Twilight Zone.

 What do you mean all of my amazing new friends are leaving the country to return to their respective corners of the globe? What do you mean I'm not going to be here much longer to enjoy the characteristically stormy English weather? What do you mean I have to somehow find a way to cram the past six months of my life into just two suitcases? What do you mean I'll soon have to adapt myself once again to life at home and *gasp*... go back to calling chips 'fries' again?! 

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY LIFE??? I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT.

 SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!!!

    It's a very surreal world I'm inhabiting right now. I constantly find myself caught between two worlds of thought as I split my time either obsessing over what to do with my last hours in dreary, wonderful England or worrying over what on Earth I'm going to do with myself over the summer to stay sane and get ready for my senior year of undergrad. It's nearly time to leave behind the new life that I've worked so hard to fashion myself over the last six months as well as to the host of amazing people I've met and formed close relationships with... All that I've grown used to calling 'mine' and 'my home.' Soon I'll no longer be able to play the role of the free-spirited study abroad student who spends most of her free time travelling across England and Europe on spur-of-the-moment whims, or who walks about the green hills of the beautiful countryside, often ending her evenings at the local pub surrounded by people from all over the world. In only two days this dream that's not a dream will be over and I'll make my return to the dusky golden hills of the valley I call my home, with its wide, swift river running at its bottom, mountains looming in the distance and craggy hills covered in mist and evergreens literally just around the river bend. Visions of rocky fields and cloudless blue skies crowd my mind as I look out through a raindrop spattered window and the fields of endless green below. It's enough of a juxtaposition to make any girl's head spin.

      At some point in my journey across the Atlantic, I'll transform back into the girl with a thousand and one dreams and return to the life that comes complete with a wonderful family always close at hand to provide advice and comfort and care. How different from the life I've led for these last months, relying on myself and moving about the world as a daughter far removed from her family, her home, and everything else that was familiar. But all that's changed now. Now there are so many different, strange things that have also entered the realm of what I consider to be familiar: New places, new friends, new pastimes, new everything. And just as this process of leave-taking begins, I know another of a similar nature, although one on a much grander scale, is just around the corner. With the close of this summer and the following academic year, I'll graduate with some sort of bachelor's degree in some sort of subject with hopefully some sort of idea in mind as to what I'm going to do afterwards and, once again, it will mean goodbye friends, goodbye family, hello to the unknown and all-new-unfamiliar. Dear World, I hope to God you're going to play nice with me.
  Today I'll say goodbye to the closest friend I've made here. While she's been busy packing, I rose late and made a cup of tea, sitting down to the serious business of getting all introspective, using my keyboard as a means to vent my college-girl identity frustrations. Hellooo, first world problems! But don't worry; the ranting can't conceivably last much longer, as once my friend's work is done we're to meet up and go on our last jaunt about campus and beyond... exploring hidden train tunnels and walking about muddy fields as long as we can before she's obliged to hit the tarmac and say goodbye to England for who knows how long. The prospect of this possibly farewell forever to the person who was my constant travel companion and comrade in arms throughout this roller coaster of an experience is, needless to say, a scary one. We've become pretty tight friends through the thick and thin of it and have been each other's main contact for months, so I expect disengaging will feel a bit like suddenly having one less arm to face the world with. I know the sensation probably won't last for all eternity and that we'll move on and eventually start to settle back into our normal lives... But, surprisingly, it's not the prospect of this period of inevitable transition that unsettles me. 
  It's the fact that there's a distinct possibility that I will just fall back into my old routines, my old thoughts, my old friend groups simply because they are comfortable, familiar, and, above all, ridiculously easy to return to. But I already know that the above scenario is the absolute last thing I want to do after all the time I've been away discovering what I like, who I like, and who I want to be. I want to take what I've learned back with me and use it to gradually change what it is about my life and myself that no longer suits the sort of roads I now see myself travelling. It's a tall order, I know, and one that will certainly take a hell of a lot of work. But hey, I at least now know that no matter what challenges there are that present a threat to my aspirations-of-almost-always-entirely-epic-proportions, I know I can deal.
    I'm a pretty stubborn girl and I'm pretty damn determined to fill what free time I have this summer to the brim with as many good things as I can. I fully intend to proceed much the same way with my last year at college, and there are so many possibilities and opportunities for me to pursue, I'm glad I at least now have a clearer perspective on what it is I want and need to move forward. So I'll hug my friends goodbye as tightly as they'll let me, spend the night reading in the airport, and board the plane thinking of possibilities and the kind of doors that start to open even while others begin to close. Because that's all this really is. It's not a door that's closing to me forever or, even if it is, it's only one in the face of a hundred others that are newly set to swinging on their hinges. I now know I have the ability to successfully make a new life for myself, complete with people I care about and things that get me excited about living no matter where I am in the world, and that's something no one's going to be able to take from me. I've made my own brand of happiness here simply based on my own initiative and by actually having the sense to invite people to become a part of it. And although I'm aware I can't take the place or the people back with me,  I can definitely carry all of the wonderful memories and everything I've learned from the experience home and make damned good use of it... which is precisely what I intend to do.

      So goodbye-for-now new friends turned old, my unfamiliar turned familiar home, green fields, constant rain, that spotted horse I always feed an apple to every time I pass along the road, England, Europe, constant world travel, weekly wanderings, and everything that goes along with you. But don't worry; this is anything but a permanent farewell.

 I'll be seeing you, I promise.

Lots of love and see you soon,

Torey

There and Back Again: A London Story

Why, hallooo everybody!

     So, exam season has been progressing much the same as of late. I pass the days not studying, instead catching up on my non-required reading, getting all artistic with my photos, and then wandering off with friends to spend the weekends gallivanting... Well, wherever it is we please.

     London seems to be the crowd's current favourite right now, and for obvious reasons: It's a huge megalopolis packed with more than even the most hard-boiled travel guru is bound to bargain for. Last weekend we kicked off our Friday evening winding our way through the city's dodgier side as we accompanied a rather strapping young man in a fedora who told us quite a lot about the gruesome murders committed by Jack the Ripper as he happily led us down street after darkened street that were once sullied by the blood and organs of several of London's finest ladies of the evening. Nowadays, however, there's mostly graffiti and the occasional curry shop to frighten us amidst the truly horrifying barbershops and pubs with names like "Jack the Clipper" or "Blood and Guts a Pint." 

     After the darkened hours waned, we happily retired our throbbing feat at our hostel in the pricey West End near Hyde Park. And the following morning we made a leisurely day of it walking about the lovely area, poking our heads into bookstores and stopping for ice cream along the way. Afterwards we treated ourselves to an extensive exploration of the positively wonderful London Aquarium, where we unashamedly gaped at sea turtles and imitated the more uncoordinated penguins while doing our best to not frighten all the young children away with our antics... Mostly unsuccessfully, I warrant. And true to our contrary natures, we made a mockery of our sea creature-loving professions of only the hour before to gorge ourselves on overly priced sushi and Japanese noodles. The train ride home was used by most of our number as a time to catch up on some much-needed rest, but for a fellow nerd and I, the three hours were delightfully whiled away with talk of comic books, horror movies, and an exchange of anecdotes about growing up and surviving in microscopically small country towns.

     All in all, a truly fantastic weekend was had by all... until, of course, I returned to my teeny tiny living space to realise the essay that was due the following morning was about twice as long as I'd previously remembered it. I did, however, manage to do a fairly good job of it (or at least I thought so), and you're actually free to grade me yourself if you're feeling so inclined ~here.

     Now, as you might have already guessed, I'm busily procrastinating on yet another project worthy of study as I eagerly anticipate my next trip into Londontowne that shall take place this coming Thursday. A friend and I are scheduled to catch an early train to see indie band The Jezabels at The Brixton, spend the night at a friend's and spend the rest of our free day exploring Camden town and possibly even get new piercings... I know, what a rebel am I! Haha! Yes, indeed...

     Anyhow, best be getting a few hours of sleep before my obligatory cram session tomorrow morning in preparation for my Victorian Literature exam. Wish me luck and a bundle of appropriate vocabulary terms and page references, as I'll certainly be needing them, the deliberately unconscientious lout I am.

Ta ta for now!

Torey  

At My Desk By the Window

     It's grey and drizzly outside, the hills are so green they blend together like a single emerald ocean when viewed through the spattered raindrops on my window. The wind buffets the curtains back and forth like sails, so I prop books against them to keep the kettle that's perched on the sill from toppling over. Still a little rummy from last night's wine and crap telly, sipping a cup of gunpowder green tea (my new addiction), munching on a bowl of ramen, job hunting and re-reading some Victorian lit in preparation for exams... I'm definitely back in England.
     In theory, I should be getting close to completing my last few creative writing pieces, but instead I use these little ramblings about my travels and surroundings to take my mind off of other things, telling myself I'm just working my way up to it and that the stories will find a way to finish themselves later. It's an odd feeling... being back. You think I would be used to it by now, but each time I return from wherever it is I've wandered, the sense of loss, the listlessness, the soft sadness remains fresh. It never changes. Naturally, I am no less delighted with so many new memories created in the company of so many wonderful, different people than I was whilst living them, but I always seem to feel just that much less alive once the dream is over. Never do I feel as wholly myself and in the present moment than when I'm getting lost in a strange city or standing before a scene or structure that makes something in me sigh a quiet, "Oh."
     Pasta sauce from Poundland, a can of diced tomatoes, and a bag of penne have been added to the fleet that keeps the curtains at bay. I haven't showered, and my face looks a bit haggard in the mirror... Though that could simply be due to either the inherent paleness of my skin or the light that grows steadily greyer as the evening wears on. Although drops occasionally splash across my desk and dampen my papers, I leave the window open because the rhythmic sound of water falling into water is the best kind of music for a restless spirit.
    My tea has become more water than anything, and the ink stains on my hands have created a dappling of dalmatian around the handle. I contemplate throwing the pen out, but decide not to bother. I don't mind a few ink spots on my mug or beside my nose, I have no one to impress today. Besides, it seems that whenever I try to impress people, they end up getting the wrong impression almost every time anyway. So many of my current friends tell me that upon first meeting me, they thought I wanted nothing to do with them. That I was snobby, reticent, cold, and aloof. Now, I'm not a particularly tall or imposing person, and my habitual expression is not a frown, so I always wonder how it is they came across these notions. I can only hope that these initial conclusions are proven to be inaccurate ones later on in any case, as I'm not exactly the most unbiased source of information on the topic. 
     The light has gotten a bit brighter but no less grey as there is a momentary break in the weather. The water ripples and reflects the spidery outlines of tree limbs back at the sky on the flat roofs below. No one clambers about the Crayola coloured play structure a few yards over. Perhaps the adults are afraid those that normally would be might fall or, more likely, prefer not to face the wrath of parents forced to stuff muddy children into the backseat of their cars.
     I'm not really going anywhere with this, in case you were wondering. I'm just whiling away these dim moments spent in my little shoebox of a room at my desk, before a rain streaked window and curtains that persist in their billowing. I hear the occasional slam of a door down the hall, but no one knocks. A friend called a few minutes ago for a conversation lasting a little over five seconds. I've never been a particularly good phone conversationalist. I need to see a person's face to be able to really articulate myself properly... although I seem to have no trouble rambling paragraph after paragraph when it's just me and a blank text box.
     It's probably time to call it quits before I end up writing a novel entirely about nothing. Something is already scheduled to happen tomorrow, as it's one of my more flamboyant friend's birthdays. This group was the one I spent the hours from 11:30 pm to 4 'clock in the morning yesterday, doing very little while drinking a little too... Which probably is why I stayed so long. Morning came and went with the cleaning lady today, who I spurned by pretending to be asleep as I rolled grumpily over to face the wall. That's certainly one way to live your life, one without any mornings. I don't particularly like that style of living, I find, even though I have had more than my fair share of these kinds of days at my ancient 21.
     But next year is a new year, and perhaps this summer could even be a new beginning if I let it. This coming month could be one of the best of my life, and I have only to wake before noon to ensure it. You never know, these things could all happen. We'll just have to wait and see. What little I have to do today I'll try and do what I can of. This grey makes my eyes feel weighted down and I should probably eat something more substantial than an animal cracker to keep myself awake. 

Lots of love and sleepy sighs from a rainy, green-grey England,

Torey

Three Weeks: Greece, Italy, The Netherlands, & Germany

In Which a Girl Wanders Across Europe & 
Probably Gets Way Too Existential About It

Hey, all!

     At long last I am returned from my stint of adventuring in Europe and am slowly settling back into life in rural England as I begin to prepare for my examinations next month… Eek! Needless to say, I haven’t been thinking of those overmuch for the past few weeks, as I have been absolutely absorbed in my exploration of the islands of Greece, the major cosmopolitan cities of Italy and the Netherlands, and in cycling around the Rhine Valley in Germany. Admittedly, there were times during my travels that were undoubtedly trying, frustrating, and headache-inducing, but amongst those were also times that made me feel as though I was soaking up some of the absolute best the world had to offer, making me feel so good about life and the choices I'd made that had allowed me to stand there, right where I was, like I belonged and was exactly where I needed to be. And that, I can most definitely say, is a damned good feeling and one I'll admit to occasionally doubting I'd ever get the chance to feel.

     As always seems to be the case after any period of intense wanderlusting, I feel as though I continue to gain a better grasp of the places and people I’m looking for and the sort with which I’d like to someday surround myself, wherever it is I eventually end up. Every time I’m able to sample the wonders of a new place, it’s as if I can see another, alternate version of myself who might someday be able to build an entirely new life there… And some places, just like some people, seem to ‘fit’ better than others depending upon an endless number of factors, most of them unknowable and which really just come down to who I am as a person and how that identity influences the way I perceive the world around me. So of course the immeasurable feeling of delight one experiences at being in a certain place at a certain time is just as unexplainable and exempt from analysis as the factors that dictate love and attachment. However, that circle of selective possibility that I've so often felt constricting now begins to feel as though it's expanding and growing wider as I allow myself to walk about the world, meet new people, and encounter strange things that sometimes require quite a bit of grappling to make any sense of. 

     I don’t think anyone’s capable of figuring out the precise cause of any of the powerful inclinations that so drive us towards particular places or particular people, although we’ve all experienced their influence at one time or another. I know that just over the last month I myself have felt their influence in varying degrees of intensity depending on whose company I shared and where I happened to be at the time. So quickly do they work that for me, images of Greece now largely inspire a remembrance of fond friendship and camaraderie that somehow grew and drew me closer to people that once were strangers as we navigated through unfamiliar, sometimes dangerous territory. Surprise changes in course, however dramatic, did not cause us nearly as much grief as I expected, and images of beautiful beaches and still more beautiful waters, hills, and vistas envoke a sense of timelessness, good health, and warm humour that endured despite initial worry. Our faith in ourselves and each other kept us sane and in good spirits despite whatever setbacks we occasionally encountered and made each day one part adventure, one part spontaneous, and one part surprise. 
     
     Any mention of Italy now reminds me of that particular feeling of awe I experienced as I wandered about monumental structures and the slightly disconcerting wonder I felt at how small and insignificant my own existence seemed when set alongside the sheer spiritual and historical significance that practically breathed from the very walls and ruins of such places. After walking away from yet another ornately painted ceiling, pagan fountain, veiled marble statue, or the scattered remains of another old place of worship, I fell in love with the Italian... Well, everything. Their unique style of dining that comes in stages and is held in a number of different venues and the immense pleasure they take in the creation of meals and the consumption of good food (always best when enjoyed in conjunction with long conversations and several glasses of wine) prompted my companions and I to walk a bit slower as we went from place to place, to speak a little more thoughtfully, and to enjoy the simple things that always somehow manage to bring people closer together, to create stronger ties, and more deeply felt memories. 


    In Germany, the driven days and leisurely crawl of nights in Italy gave way to ones filled to the brim with activity in the open air as we pedalled our way along the river or through tiny villages erected in the same era as famous composers whose likenesses can be found 'round most every cobblestoned street corner. Each day and night was heavily laced with large doses of quirky humour amongst our group of girls and the most enjoyable degree of silliness ensued as my friends and I laughed at each other's foibles after getting hopelessly lost and finding our way again with great effort, only to happen upon a scene so unassumingly beautiful or someone so frank and sincere that it surprised us into lingering longer than we'd originally intended. 

     Naturally, I don’t know what any of these impressions mean or what sort of changes they may or may not precipitate at some unknown point in the future. However, I do know that whatever it is they are or will be, it’s profoundly important that I had the opportunity to experience them. No lasting progress ever came of sticking one’s own head in the ground, so staying in my room counting the number of books I haven’t yet read or bemoaning whatever mistakes I feel I’ve made in the past will do nothing towards getting me to the place, person, or state of mind I’m meant to be, choose, or live by… So I might as well do my utmost to keep moving forward and to not allow myself to fall back into the rut I sometimes feel only a hair’s breadth away from plummeting right back into again. So I'll naturally do my best to surround myself with good people, good energy, and work hard to create an environment that encourages forward movement, giving me room to do what pleases me in a way that allows me to be true to myself and also to get ready to eventually become part of a much wider, more dynamic world.

     Thanks so much for your patience everyone, for now I’m here until next I need another adventure to shake me up.

Lots of love & all that jazz from England,

Torey

England and Abroad: The Official Update

London in Motion

     Okay, so it's been exactly 2 months, 2 weeks and 1 day since I departed from home and left behind all that was familiar to study English literature and sociology in the UK. Since I've arrived, I've made and lost friends, been overjoyed with wonderment and happiness at all the wonderful new things I've been learning & experiencing, been heartsick for familiar voices and have longed to wrap my arms around those separated from me by miles upon miles of ocean, land, and mountains. I've journeyed widely and more frequently than ever before, travelling to new cities to take in new sites and meet new people almost every weekend whilst attempting to soak up as much beauty and culture provided by the little rural community in which my university is nestled during the working days. I've walked through the woodland adjoining the Victorian hall that graces the western side of our campus. I've picnicked on the green hills and sheep-dappled fields that slope down gently only to cut away steeply to form countless numbers of creeks and shallow riverbeds.

     I've ventured into our little town for market day and bought freshly grown produce, homemade bread, and preserves to add to my food-making arsenal for the meals I would engineer to keep myself going that week. I've explored the streets of Manchester, London, Liverpool, and Edinburgh whilst successfully managing to navigate around each's unique transportation system that varies in their degrees of complexity. I've had to manage myself and my money in a way that makes me feel like I've truly earned my independence over here and leaves me with little doubt of my ability to handle myself in almost any situation. This burgeoning self-faith is something I hope will continue to grow as I do my best to foster it and, more than anything, I hope to be able to take it back home with me once my time here comes to a close. Currently, I am left with a little over two months more in England, and it would seem that the next part of the journey is just about to begin.

     Tomorrow marks the start of my university's Easter vacation, which will extend all the way to the end of the month, upon which time exams will commence. I will be travelling abroad three out of four of these weeks, spending the first in Greece, the second in Italy, and the third in The Netherlands and Germany respectively. I will be travelling with friends I've made over the course of only the last two months, but a few of which I feel as though I've known my entire life. That's what it's really like here; an entire college or life's worth of experience condensed into a few short months. In the beginning you cling to whoever you can for survival, like you did in high school. Then, as you begin to get a better feel for your footing, you begin to realise where you really figure into things and how to get about and be on your own... In other words, by a continual process of trial and error and attempts at friendship and occasional causes for embarrassment, you find your independence, your stride, if you will, as you begin to walk on solid ground. Sometimes the earth shifts and you stumble, perhaps even fall, but eventually you scrabble back up onto your knees and then push yourself to your feet with usually only a bit of dust and a reddened face to show for it.

     So, now that I feel as though I'm really beginning to hit my stride as it were, I'm forcibly whisking myself away and out of my comfort zone and throwing myself straight back into mostly unknown territory again: Travelling across Europe not quite by my lonesome, but with small band of fellow wanderers to keep me company. Unlike all (or at least most) of my previous travel experiences around both Europe and Asia, our exact itineraries are not set, nor is our accommodation. True, this grants us a great deal of freedom in respect to where we go, what we do, and enables us to follow our whims and chase our muses wherever we might... But of course, it also leaves us with a great deal of uncertainty at the outset.

     Now, I'd very much like to think myself the free and restless spirit that revels in the wandering, the exploring, and the investigating that leads one to some of the best surprises travelling independently and on one's own can offer. And, to an extent, I think I can safely say that I am (or at least am in the process of becoming) that person. As I mentioned earlier, a lot of this studying abroad business seems to have to do with developing trust in--not so much other people, surprisingly--but in yourself. As long as you've developed and are continually working to develop a stronger faith in yourself and your own judgement, you're able to make sounder decisions with more clarity of thought, and this process eases with each time you allow yourself to practice thinking on your own, forming your own opinion, and then acting on it. Just like when you're in the process of forming both good and bad habits, these things tend to stick, so getting them right (or at least on the way to/close to being right) the first time is probably a good idea.

     In other words, I'm going to do my absolute best to have as much fun as I can out there whilst simultaneously doing my best to... Well, do my best and not mess up too badly along the way.
And that's that. I fly to Greece tomorrow with one suitcase, a flimsy backpack, a Canadian, and two Brits. Wish me luck, safety, a great deal of fun and a good deal of learning, enjoyment, excitement, and wonder. After all, those are all the things I wish for myself and intend to make good on, so I'm sure a little bit of positive thinking from your direction couldn't possibly hurt to help along the endeavour.

Lots of love and all that jazz from England,

Torey

On Language: England's "Bits and Bobs"

The lovely collection of items pictured above reminds me of a term I've heard quite often over the course of my stay in the UK, "bits and bobs." The English (in the Midlands at least, as I really can't speak for anywhere else) use it as a term that pretty much directly corresponds to the more commonly used in America "odds and ends." However, I like the English term better, as the alliteration just comes across in a very pleasing way to me for some reason.

Of Snark and Sarcasm: On a "Guy-fession"

booklit:

Oh.

So THAT’S why I’m constantly followed by hoards of attractive men.

Good to know the reason.

Why, color me astonished, aghast, and immeasurably surprised; I’ve been wondering the same thing as Miss Booklit for years!

And to think, all the attention that has been so relentlessly lavished upon me since grade school can be attributed to the fact that my little nose has been squished and squashed between far too many pages and on so many separate occasions that it’s quite impossible for me to recall them all!

Who on Earth could have guessed that shrewd noses, narrowed eyes, and intelligent faces (albeit ones which are almost invariably hidden from view as they are so often wont to take up residence behind their wide selection of paperbacks) were what caused we bookish girls to be so incessantly pursued by the opposite sex?

Mystery solved, ladies. Now we can go back to beating them off with our old copies of War and Peace with an entirely new perspective on the situation…
They probably like it!