Let's Talk About Life and Stuff

'Ello mates,

It's 6:42 PM here and rather cold and drizzly outside. Thankfully my classes are done until Friday, and I have an evening of watching old films planned, thanks to my film history class. I am finally going to watch Rebel Without a Cause (courtesy of London Met Library and Meghan Hartley's computer).

This past week I've begun to suffer from Staying-In-Guilt. Every day that I spend in the Nido complex makes me feel like I've wasted a day in London. This, of course, is not entirely true. If I had a crazy adventure every single day, I would be a) limp, irritable, and exhausted and b) broke. Not exactly a happy state, eh? I believe it was Meghan who pointed out that we have only been here for two and half weeks. She's absolutely right, but I still can't shake the feeling that I'm being lame. The one constant piece of advice I heard from everyone was "make the most of your time in London," and when I spend my evenings watching Harry Potter in my polar bear pajama pants instead of actively stalking the cast, I feel like I've failed in some inexplicable way.

What I need is to maintain a balance, and I think even though my Staying-In-Guilt says otherwise, I'm not doing as shabbily as I imagine.

Yes, I watched a lot of movies and perused Facebook instead of London at points, but I also spent all of Saturday wandering The National Gallery and Tate Modern, soaking in art from the past and the present. And that night, I danced like a crazy American at Miller's Pub. Sure, the next day, I did errands and studied, but I did come here to go to school as hard as it is to get that through my head after my extensive Christmas holiday.

All in all, I need to stop worrying that I'm not living it up, because that's the very thing that's going to keep me from having an incredible experience. I need to recognize that this is real life and not a travel brochure where everyone is in a perpetual state of whirlwind excitement. I'm still having adventures even if it's just bonding with a brand new group of awesome people in our dorm rooms. Plus, I do have to admit how much my social schedule has opened up since I had to stop my Doctor Who addiction cold turkey (but if anyone has Season 5 and will let me watch it, I will repay you in everlasting love and riches).

Speaking of love, let's shift gears for a moment and talk about that topic that we can't get enough of. You all know how much I talked about meeting my British soul mate when I got here, and I don't know if you thought I was joking or not, but I wasn't. I truly believed that stepping off that plane would put me on the path to that guy who I've been searching my whole life for. I think it was the potential that a new country offered, a potential that rekindled that never-ending hope of a Prince Charming and fairy tale ending (also, there are real princes here...so yeah). But I had an epiphany walking home alone from King's Cross station after class last night on that horrible day that some people call a holiday.

It doesn't work like that.

Now don't get me wrong, I still have faith in true love, and even though I recognize that romantic movies like P.S. I Love You (which I watched last night for better or for worse) are unrealistic and gaggingly perfect, there's too many stories like that for me to be convinced that that type of love is impossible. What I need to stop doing is putting a time limit on it. That stupid quote that it happens when you least expect it is relevant to mention at this point. I hate it, but it's gotta be true. So I'm going to stop expecting and start accepting. Whether my true love is British, American, Irish, Time Lord, etc. he'll get here eventually. In the mean time, I'm not going to miss out on the now by scanning around the corners up ahead. I'll just keep waiting for the collision when life as we know it ends.
 

Yours sappily,
S