Some kinda sad thoughts

Today I feel weird. I wasn't going to blog feeling like this, but I think I need to start documenting how I feel during this trip more. 

I've been in such a weird mood today. I'm thinking about how everyone has those "excited" moments in their host country when they get there. Pure exuberance. Happiness. Enthrallment. I've yet to have it.  

I think I over-hyped London. I've been obsessed with it for as long I can remember. Everything. The culture. The films. The shows. The music. The literature. And it's letting me down. I had this over-romanticized idea of London since 8-year-old Abby cracked open Harry Potter. 

I'm not really "happy" here. More So just enduring it. And I'm annoyed at myself. I'm annoyed that I thought I wouldn't be homesick. And that I can do well with distances. And new cultures. And change. And all of that. And I'm wrong. 

I wish I could be that person who is in love with everything they're doing during their study abroad experience cause I'm not. I have a few days/moments when I love London. But not enough. Or not enough from what I think I'm supposed to be feeling. 

I don't regret coming. Please don't read this as whiny or ungrateful. I am so blessed and lucky to have this opportunity. I know there's millions of people who would kill for this opportunity. 

I just wish I was feeling more happy. I miss my parents. And friends. And dog. And American food. And pittsburgh. And Oakland. 

I've also been in a weird mood today. So that might be why I'm feeling like this. Also the weather has been kinda crappy. 

Hopefully I will feel better when the sun starts shining more. 

I know I'll love London eventually. And I'm excited to hit that point. 

I HATE BIKES

Helloooooo!!

Mother keeps asking me to update the blog, so here I am. So much has happened since I posted last! For one, I WENT TO PARIS? And that was crazy amazing beautiful. Like, absolutely beautiful. We got up super early and made our way to the international train station and hopped onto the Eurostar and 2 hours later (after going UNDER the English Channel -- cool, engineering!) I stepped onto French soil.

Paris was cool. Very cool. The first night was my oh my god, I'm in PARIS night. We had a really extensive walking tour after checking into our hotel and it was COLD. But I saw so much! In particular, Notre Dame. I can't explain the feeling I had being in that church. I was overwhelmed. I started tearing up simply from the sheer beauty of it. It was massive and so beautifully painted, and the ambiance was so sacred and holy, I felt so special in that moment. There were older women in the pews sitting with their head bowed, lost in prayer. That, matched with people lighting small tea-light candles in honor of loved ones no longer with us, tipped me off the emotionally stable cliff. It honestly was an unexplainable feeling.

We then took a boat tour on the Seine and it was amazing. When I saw the Eiffel Tower for the first time... yep, I started crying... again. It was just so incredible to see it in person. Like... absolutely amazing. Then, as our boat swivelled around, the Eiffel Tower lit up! It was amazing! We also went to the Louve and I saw good 'ol Mona!

We wrapped up some more tours. Then. Oh, then. The next day. We had a bike tour. I have not rode a bike since I was... oh, I don't know... NINE maybe? So 11 years ago? And I'm afraid of bikes... so I learned. CAPA promised that this bike tour was for "all levels." WRONG. So WRONG. I almost DIED. I went OFF-ROADING. I FELL OFF A SIDEWALK. The bike was too big for me so I had to ride a pink and blue bike with a sticker that said PUKEY on it. IT WAS THE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE. I HATED IT SO MUCH. I STARTED CRYING. Not because of beauty BECAUSE I WAS TERRIFIED. This MAN took all 30 of us (in my group... there was 3 groups) onto the BUSY STREETS OF PARIS. Riding next to ANGRY PARISIANS and HUGE TRUCKS. ALSO on busy sidewalks with fashionable grandmas and annoying children on SCOOTERS. And I don't understand how bikes work so I was on the wrong gear the WHOLE TIME. And this stupid freaking bane of my existence tour lasted for FOUR HOURS. I WAS SO ANGRY AT PARIS. But yeah, some girl stopped her stupid bike right in front of me and I had to veer off the sidewalk onto the cobblestone next to the road and I almost flipped off AND I WILL NEVER RIDE A BIKE AGAIN.

We also went to Versailles, and that was amazing. Naturally. I'm sorry these aren't so descriptive, but this was a week ago and I'm tired and I'm lazy. What're ya gonna do.

But, Paris wasn't what I thought it was going to be. By Sunday, I was ready to go back "home..." to London. The trip made me embrace London a lot more. I was very stressed and felt guilty by not speaking French in Paris. I felt safer in London after returning from notoriously famous pick-pocketing Paris. I don't know. It was really nice to come back to London. I felt excited to explore London and start living.

So, that's what I'm doing! I love London now. Sure, it's not, nor will it ever be "home" but I'm so happy I like it now. I hated London at first. I had this romanticised idea of it since I was 8. It obviously is not what I thought it would be. But, I'm finally getting used to everything. I have a system. And plenty of countdowns on my phone.

I'm going to Ireland next weekend! That's going to be exciting. And my parents will be here in 3 weeks! It's flying by. I knew it would eventually. I understand now what everyone means by studying abroad is a "life changing" experience. I feel so different. I've learned so much about myself and my likes and dislikes and what essentially is "me." I feel more myself than I ever have had before.

It's getting warmer here and it's making me feel like London is a whole new city. No more cold, dreary, sad days. With a day like today -- sun beating down, making the whole of Regents Park glisten with budding spring -- I feel more confident. I know I can get through these 70+ days here. SO much more is going to happen!

So, yep. London is getting better!  Lex and I skyped our friend Kelsey today (who then went into Starbucks to see Gabrielle and then we saw Kelly in the street!!) and it made me miss Oakland SOOOOO much. So much. But I know Oakland is going to be there when I get back. And so will my friends. And my family. And everything will be fine!

So, that's what's going on with me! Classes keep me busy Monday - Thursday. Then the weekends, we cram so much in. Friday we did a pub crawl that was full of fun and dancing and LIVE MUSIC. Like, two bands we stumbled upon! Super fun! The last stop on the crawl was this club called Koko and there was this really cool dude singing and we ended up first row cause that's just how me and Lexi run shows... and yeah... it was so nice. I had a lot of fun. Saturday, we went to these huge, massive mall complex and the chilled the rest of the night. Then today we just walked around a park. Super relaxed! First weekend like that since I've been here!

I'm sorry this is so scatter-brained but I'm listening to Sam Smith while texting Danielle (hey, bae) so not really thinking straight.

ALRIGHT. Well, my wrist hurts from the angle I'm typing. So, that's all from London for now!

Lots of love!

xoxo

Finally Adjusting!

There are moments where I have this unnerving wave of, “Oh my god, I’m in LONDON” and everything crashes over me at once. Today I had one of those moments. I was riding the tube in alone to class and sitting there alone, listening to music, watching people hurry on and off, I felt like I was far away. With my phone, I feel tethered to my real life back at home. But, for some reason, I had this surge of the reality of the distance and time. I’m really far away. Like, really far away. I’m here for a long time.*

I’m getting better, though! I feel a lot more confident. I have a system and structure. I’m exploring a lot of this city, both on my own time, but also with classes on field excursions.

I’m realizing I’ve set my standards high. I’ve been obsessed with London for as long as I can honestly remember. Absolutely enthralled with the culture, the people, the longed ambiance… and I’m realizing it’s really not all that. Now, it could be I just haven’t fully immersed myself in this city… or 8-year-old Abby was looking at a canted angle.

London is one of the most romanticized cities in the world. It’s beautiful, it’s breathtaking, it’s unbelievable… but so is Pittsburgh. I’ve learned the value of home after being here. I want American food. I’m a picky eater… way pickier than I thought. And it’s not me being materialistic, which I think is how it’s coming across to a lot of people… I just want mac and cheese, man. And sandwiches without mayo. Or tomatoes. Or tuna. Sure, I’m clumping “food” with, like, Sainsbury’s and Tesco take away **. But… I don’t know. I wish I were more adventurous with food. But, I wish I realized how much I loved home before I came here.

But maybe that’s good. Maybe it’s good that I realized I love being near my family and I need to be close. I love talking to my mom multiple times a day. Honestly… I love being American. I don’t know where this overwhelming pride of being an American came from but here we are. I love the States… 15-year-old me is gagging.

I’ve been to many cool places! Bath… Stonehenge… Camden… Shoreditch… I’m happy our program implements both many weekend excursions, but also in-class ones.

I’m finally getting into the swing of London… we’re finding out how to save money… where to go…  how to relax but also do a lot. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it is to study abroad. There’s several times a week where I’m like, “WHAT did I get myself INTO?”

I’ve actually learned several things about myself. The list as follows:

1. Pittsburgh is a dope (translation for old folks: cool) city. I love you, Pittsburgh.

2. I am very clingy to my parents. I’m basically a baby monkey hanging from my mother’s neck. This is fact.

3. I’m really bad at crossing streets. I may have almost been hit by double decker busses multiple times… sorry, mom and dad… but pedestrians don’t have the right of way here and I go to school in Oakland where we RUN those streets, am I right ladies!

4. I love mac and cheese.

5. I love the city… but maybe not constantly being in the city. I need a nice tree or bird chirp or sliver of grass here and there to stay sane and not have the constant paranoia I am in the way of a really expensive looking businessman or a car.

6. Constant social interaction is not ideal. Maybe I’m not as extroverted as I thought.

7. I’m obsessed with my phone… but I definitely already knew this about myself.

I hope none of this comes off as ungrateful or whiny or annoying or whatever. Hey, you clicked the link! I am so beyond grateful that my parents are able to give me the opportunities I have had and continue to have. I don’t regret coming here in the slightest. But there are bits and pieces that haven’t fully slotted together and meshed with the rest of me yet.

But! Luckily the parentals will be dropping in to good ‘ol Londontown in a month’s time (hooray!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and I also found a store today called… wait for it… THE AMERICAN FOOD STORE… and I spent way too much money on two boxes of Annie’s mac and cheese, but HOLY HELL, was I craving it.

I’m meeting a lot of cool people and doing a lot of cool things so! London’s pretty cool.

I’m leaving for PARIS tomorrow morning… yeah…. Paris. How cool?!

But just wanted to let everyone know I’m adjusting (and not crying as much, lol) and also I’m alive and also I’m having fun and also still love over-sharing about my life!!

Okay, I want a Walker’s cookie right now (shortbread, buttery sliver of HEAVEN)

Bye for now!

Xoxo

A

* far and long relative

** American translation: Giant Eagle pre-made sandwiches

Settling

Hi. I'm in London? I'm sitting on my comfortably worn brown couch that's only really scratchy if you put your skin on it. My friend Luke (our neighbor) is stretched across the next one, lounging as Dad Cat. My roommate Ashley is sitting next to me, engrossed in a novel. My other roommate Chelsea is propped against the heater, sipping a cider, and chatting on Facebook. Tara, our other roommate is somewhere in our "flat" (read: tiny living environment, way too small for 5 people.)And Lexi, is updating her blog.

So, yeah, I've finally made it. I've said for as long as I can remember that I wanted to study abroad, and specifically London. After throwing away my life to Harry Potter at that fetal age of 8, I knew I wanted to go to London.

I'm sitting here trying to summarize my almost week here, and it's hard to encompass it all. I've been at the highest and lowest. The day I left, leaving my parents was by far one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. The few days leading up, I was incredibly unstable. The littlest things were setting me off. From my dog sitting next to me with his head on my leg, to my mom's warming hugs, I just wanted to take everything from home and plop it down in London. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't regretting my decision to come here. To put it simply, I was terrified of change. I used to think that I was a person who longed change and loved being away from home... but change meant changing my sheets, and being away from home means, like, Indiana... or New York City... all 4 hour plane rides top away from home.

Leaving, I composed myself after going through security (read: I hyperventilated while sobbing as I hugged my parents goodbye.) The whole flight situation was all messed up... between our original flight getting cancelled, to them moving us into an earlier flight... we finally reached Chicago. We had about 20 minutes to regroup and eat something before we got on our plane to London. La de da, 9 hours later, I was staring out the window to England countrysides and the London Eye.

After navigating RIDICULOUSLY heavy luggage to the train... then to a cab... we finally reached our flat. And I was exhausted. Another Abby Lesson was in order -- I used to think I can handle exhaustion and limited sleep well... Oh, how I was mistaken. I wasn't my normal self. Without having 3G, my phone was useless. I just wanted to call my mom. I was on the brink of crying in a Starbucks. The WiFi in my flat is unbearably slow, and I can't pick up a strong feed in my room.

Finally, finally, after a crying session in my kitchen to my mother (Skype premium plan is a godsent) and a pub visit (across the street!) with my roommates, we called it a night. I called my parents and said goodnight and went to bed. And then, I woke up at 2 AM without being able to sleep in the slightest. The mattress, springs piercing my back, was unbearable. My pillows, unshapely and shedding, were leaving kinks in my neck. I couldn't take it. I started crying. I wanted my mom. I wanted my dad. I wanted to be home. I just wanted to see my dog and make stupid jokes with Emily, and Danielle, and Lauren and everyone at home. I hated it. I hated it so much.

I went out into the living room, called my mom, and LOST it. Long story short, after a babbling, ugly crying session later, I calmed down.

I'm gonna skip around here. But yeah, I'm okay now. A lot better! I needed sleep and food and better bedding (I had to buy pillows, I'm sleeping on my comforter, and I bought 2 new blankets... ew.) I've toured so much of London. I've walked literal miles upon miles. I've figured out an entirely new transportation system. Then finally today, I had my first class, a film class and I'm feeling really good about it. I bought a British SIM card so I have 3G. I've accepted that I need to be tethered to my "real" world. I need to be able to text my friends at home at beck and call. I need to be able to call my mom when I'm walking down the street. I just need that. And that's okay.

I've learned a LOT about myself in these past few days. I feel stronger and better and more excited about this semester now that I've settled.

WOW, lots of emotion. Also, apparently using this blog again. And also, this was such a blah, downer post. LONDON IS COOL AS HECK. It's SO big and busy and overwhelming and scary and awesome. Every corner of this city is nestled with a bite of history. You can be looking at a building that your great, great, great, great (x10) grandfather walked into and spin around and be staring at your reflection in a swanky, glass, modern office building. It's consantly bustling and the city ebbs and flows and spills out everywhere. It's mass mayhem. And it's incredible.

I can't wait to sink into this city and blend into its stitches seamlessly. I miss home. I miss my parents. I miss my friends and dog and hamburgers and mac and cheese and my coffee pot. But, I'm excited to fully embrace London.

London's calling.

Paper is ruining my life

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH can basically sum up my entire thought-process for 2014.

I'm at that age where decisions are kinda-sorta having to be made, and classes kinda-sorta need to start going together and money kinda-sorta needs to be, like, saved. WHYYYYY.

Why is money a thing? Better yet, why do we center our lives around PAPER? Real talk: All money is, IS PAPER. WE ARE DEPENDENT. ON PAPER.

So I want to go to a few places that I can't go to (read: Governors Ball.) I'm planning* to study abroad for my Spring 2015 semester, so money is needed for that. But I want to do fun things NOW! Like concerts. Or spending way too much money on fancy... candles.

I'm kinda caught in a weird place between sorta-teenager and sorta-adult. Being 19, I still have important things I need to, like, make sure I'm feeding myself and bathing, but my apartment, education, and all that other important stuff is paid for by my parents. Studying abroad is paid by them, but not spending money. So, as you can see, the fun things come down to my bank account... aaaaaaaand I'm unemployed. The joys of life! Ah.

This weekend I went to NYC for my first time ever. Yeah, ever. It was amazing, wonderful, exhilarating, everything I thought it'd be, etc. etc. And I realized -- yeah, I'm going to live here probably sometime in my life. Probably, like in the foreseeable future. And yes, that's exciting, and yes that's wonderful but I need a lot of freaking PAPER -- of the money variety.

Sidebar: Here's me throwing myself against the 30 Rock wall because emotions.

Life is actually really, really scary. I'm not going to lie, I'm actually terrified of what's going to happen to me after a graduate. I'm sure EVERYONE is, though. I've invested myself in such a fast-paced and paradoxical environment of constant change, I don't know WHAT the Internet industry is going to be like after I graduate. 

Hopefully I can score a really, really cool job in either NYC, LA, London, Somewhere Other Than The Small City of Pittsburgh, or maybe I'll be famous for being myself. That'd be pretty cool.

My parents always tell me I need to stay focused and realize that I need to consider I might never move from Pittsburgh, I might never "make it," I might never be as successful as I want to be. And yes, I get this. But I'm tired of living in the "well, you might"s. Because, quite frankly, they're getting me really down.

I'm going to live in my Internet bubble of social media and video making and reblogging pictures of stupid trees because that's what I like and I want to do what I like regardless of the monetary gain or loss. I'm not tying myself to a tree -- literally. I'm not going to keep stopping myself because of money. Sure, I can't do everything I want to do, like, say drop everything and fly to a different country cause I definitely don't have the funds to singularly do that.

But anyways, this is a really longwinded way of saying that I'm going to start changing my life and do more Internet things featuring italics and be more healthy and happier and screw New Years Resolutions, I'm all about January 22 resolutions.

So, yeah, let's be awesome?

A

* If I get accepted and such**

** I will cry if I don't get accepted. Like, probably until I die. I will cry until I die.

8tracks playlist recommendation

Song recommendation

2:28 AM

I’ve been struggling with the idea of self-functionality lately. I’m trapped in the enigmatic state of wanting to be and being. Consistently in the back of my mind, I have this voice saying Is that what you’re supposed to be doing? I’m trapped between wanting to follow this ambiguous “path” that every college student is to set out and find. But it’s hard to discern path fidelity.

I’ve grown up in a home where expectations are set high. Grades? Set high. Success? Set high. Knowledge consumption? Set high. It wasn’t a detrimental factor, quite the opposite. I’ve grown up challenging myself. Wanting to be beyond. To reach that next step.

I’m constantly faced with the crippling fear of reality and aging. At some point I’m going to have to sober up — to encounter life in it’s full and slink around the snapping, sharp fangs of disappointment, rejection, fear, failure. Life is moving. It’s twisting and spiraling and linking people and places together, holding them in place. I don’t want to be held in place.

Lately, I’ve found myself working and working towards a class and seeing no success in it. I’m struggling. I’ve tried to fix it. I failed. I’ve sought help. It was to no avail. I keep trying to tell myself that in the long run, it’s not going to matter. In the long run, this  one class, this one semester, this one year, is going to be told as a bitter horror story while I’m nursing a martini, sloshing it over my hand, sharing Tales of College Past at a bar with my co-workers down the street of some job I’ll hold at some point in my life. Isn’t that how life goes?

I feel like I’m constantly working. Whether it be physically or mentally, my brain literally cannot stop. I wish I was one of those people who can sit down and just be. But sitting for even five minutes sends my brain into overdrive of what needs done, what will need to be done, when will it need to be done. I’m never stopping. I’m constantly worried about letters.

In reality, that’s what education is anymore. A letter. A dumb, pointless, irrelevant letter of the alphabet, saying if you did what they expected. If you performed how they wanted you to perform. I’m finding as I get older that grades are becoming more and more irrelevant.

Education is important. Knowledge is necessary. I have a lust to learn and improve. To take something and make it better. But I see the world less as a grade and more of an experience. I’m taking in advice and criticism and tweaking it for the next time. I’m swallowing my pride and accepting help, even when I don’t think I need it. Because I’ve reached the point where people’s guileless comments aren’t as damaging anymore.

We’re all pitted against each other. In a way, college is like a poetically tortured metaphor of David and Goliath. We’re all Davids. And we’re all Goliaths. It’s as if we’re skirting around the other, to gauge how they’re doing, to see if we’ve done better or worse. We’re basing our viewpoints against each other. Mentally, we’re destroying each other. Wanting to be better. Wanting to be the victor. 

I’m tired. I’m tired of wanting to prove myself. I’m tired of living in a state of ambiguity that is directionless but pragmatic. I want to fast forward but I want to slow down. I’m trapped in a liminal state of transgression.

Mentally, I’m exhausted. But my brain is constantly winding, constantly turning and spinning and creating. And I love it. I love the drive and need to succeed. But sometimes, I just need to shut down. To relax. To breath. I need to stop being and just be.

Body Image, Body Shaming, Western Culture Sucks, etc.

Once upon a time I wrote a blogpost about body image and poured my heart and soul into it. And I got a lot of positive feedback and a lot of people benefited from it. THEN I DELETED IT. 

Today I joined a gym. This wasn’t some life-changing, “I’m starting off on the right foot” kinda deal, because during school I worked out 6 days a week. However, for the first time in my life I was surrounded by people much older than me -- I was the minority! At high school, we received this massive grant when I was in, like, 7^th grade (I think) and they put in a gym in our school. It was crowded and sweaty and 9/10 the machines were always broken and some people would just go down there and sit, occasionally lifting a leg or flailing an arm like, “Look guys!  Physical activity.” And a college gym is just a bunch of college kids who grunt and use shifty eye movements to communicate with each other. But this time was different.

Planet Fitness is a really cool place. Not only are their machines reaaaal nice, but they’re also extremely body positive. I toured the gym when I signed up with a worker and he told me that they strive to have all members to adhere by their ‘No judgement’ rule. At first I laughed it off, like, “Okay. It’s a gym.” But then I felt like an idiot. I was surrounded by people who were at all different stages on their weight loss journey. And it is so brave to do that. I really respect Planet Fitness for how hard they’re working to make people feel welcomed -- like they belong.

Body Image has become so westernized that across the board, girls are trying to look like that. “I want a stomach like that.” “I want thighs like that.” “Why don’t my hips look like that.” I hate THAT. It’s been a long, tiring uphill battle for me and body image and the word THAT is ripped from my personal dictionary.

In April/May alone I’m guessing I’ve gained about 10 pounds. 14-year-old Abby would absolutely have lost  it. I would have ran 7 miles a day, ate only salads, never even glanced near junk food. Then I would tired myself out and run out of energy come day 4 and then binge. And then cry. And then repeat. However 18-year-old Abby is EMBRACING it. I’ve let myself go after finish school and I’ve recognized that. And now I’m taking action

I’m not going to lie, this journey wasn’t made by “faith in myself.” Sure, it helped, but I’m definitely not strong enough to ignore all of society. My mom obviously helped me, but it was mainly pop culture icons embracing their body that helped me the most. The two that come to mind for me personally is Demi Lovato and Jennifer Lawrence.

I’ve already talked about Demi in an older post and I stand by everything I said. Jennifer Lawrence doesn’t even need an introduction.  But just in case you live under a rock, Jennifer Lawrence is an American actress known for her goofy one-liners, laid-back attitude, but most importantly, on taking a stand against body shaming. She is an athletic build. And Hollywood has the audacity to call her fat. What scares me is that I have an athletic build. I have muscular legs and arms and instead of losing weight, I gain muscle. So to read that Jennifer Lawrence is fat, is enough to knock someone down a few rungs.

Who cares. Who cares what the media says. Who cares what society thinks. It’s hard to ignore all that pressure that just builds and builds and builds. I know. The billboards, the commercials. Every celebrity you’ve ever loved has been involved with some very thin, tanned, legs for days model. Then you feel like crap. You feel like you’ll never be as beautiful as someone like that. Then you feel bad for yourself. I know. But who cares about what other people are doing? Hint: Not you. Answer: No one.

Here’s my advice -- 1. stop looking at sizes. In my closet right now I have sizes 9, 7, 6, and 4 in pants. They all fit the same. But yet their range is extremely high. Clothes are being made smaller and smaller. I know it really hurts to have to go up a size, but why buy something that doesn’t fit, looks extremely unflattering on you, and will only shrink in the wash to make you feel better. It sucks, I know, but it’s not worth it.; 2. Be healthier. You can mope and whine and point to models in Seventeen all you want, but nothing is going to happen unless you cleanse your body. Eat fruits. Eat vegetables. Don’t drink pop.  Cut down on sugary foods and processed foods. Get 30 minutes of exercise a day in. There. That’s it. That’s all you need to do. You don’t need to go overboard. A healthy lifestyle comes with hard work and determination. Not starving yourself. (That's a WHOLE different post for me.) 3. ‘Skinny’ doesn’t mean healthy and ‘fat’ doesn’t mean unhealthy. Body shaming goes both ways. Be kind to others with your words.

I know how hard it is to accept your body. I know how much of a struggle it is to look in the mirror and not be happy with the person you see. It sucks. It really, really, really sucks. But nothing is going to get better unless you take the change to being happier and healthier. Your body is yours and no one else's. You need to take care of it. 

Be happy, be strong, be confident.

But most of all,

Be beautiful.

Xx
A