Let the Travels Begin!

Well, I head out for a month-long holiday adventure through Europe at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning.

And it hasn't dawned on me yet. At all. Maybe that means I'm getting extremely good at living in the moment?

I honestly am just in awe that I have this opportunity... like... seriously? I'll be in London with all the lights up in the Christmas spirit, in Greece for Christmas itself, and then off to Switzerland and Germany to finish off the holiday. WHAT KIND OF OPPORTUNITIES ARE THESE??? Awesome ones. That's the only acceptable answer. Bam.

I do not understand how I came to draw the lucky straw. I am so incredibly INCREDIBLY lucky, and I plan on living out every moment to its fullest -- minus the whole packing thing. That still needs to happen...

Well, I was missing home like crazy today... as many of you know because I went all video-happy and sent many of you oh-so-touching (aka pointless) video messages via facebook this morning. Sigh. It's hard for me to feel like I should be in two places at once. But hey, I can't. And I'm here, and honestly, there's no place I would rather be. I have found myself here, I have come into my own, I have my future all lined up and ready to go. I can hardly believe my good fortune. I have been given the opportunity to throw myself into a new culture for 9 months, and to spend 3 of those months abroad in other cultures. AHHHHHHHHHHH. And for some reason I'm telling my heart to stop racing right now. It's SO fine for me to be excited at this point, I mean, I'm leaving TOMORROW for the ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME. Gosh, I can be so mediocre sometimes. Silly.

So anyway, I hope to update along the way, but basically, I love life. So much. And I will never forget this year -- it will be a part of me forever.

However, I love you all, and I can't wait to be back with you, no matter how much things may have seemed to change -- love remains the same.

As is English custom, I leave you with kisses:
xx

Snow :)

I have never loved snow so much in my life. One of my fondest memories in the snow happened about five years ago. My sister and I had donned our snowpants and set out on an adventure across the "wild" terrain behind our house. Two hours later, we were lost, I was freezing (freeze-baby that I am) and had surrendered myself to certain death by laying in the nearest 3 foot tall snowbank (which happened to be right next to me as I was surrounded by an ocean of 3 foot tall snowbanks). I could see a neighborhood, but not our neighborhood, and in my despair, I dramatically declared to my sister that I was going to die there, at which point she yanked me up and began running through the snow, dragging my freezing, useless body after her. Needless to say, we made it home.

But today, I was on my own. I was in a foreign country with nothing but time and homework to hold me back. I followed my heart to the city centre, where my heart is often residing, and roamed around the beautiful decorated streets, feeling the large clumps of snow as they danced lazily onto my face and hair. I mailed three postcards I had had written for at least a month (be expecting, ladies!) and then headed off in search of an upstairs cafe where I could write and work on homework away from the turmoil of the busy street shoppers.

However, due to the ridiculous Nottingham property taxes, there are only two cafes with upstairs seating that I could find, and as I was determined not to enter an American Starbucks while in England, I headed to the very familiar Waterstone's bookstore where I ended up at a table perched right at the top of a noisy escalator. I did my best to pretend that the whir of the escalator was soothing, but ended up turning up John Mayer on my ipod instead.

I may have been on my own today, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I couldn't stop smiling all day long -- partly because I was listening to John Mayer for 2 hours straight, partly because the snow was so breathtakingly beautiful I could hardly contain myself, partly because Christmas has wrapped its arms around Market Square -- but mostly because I am free, independent, and alive. I have been blessed with such an incredible opportunity to live out every moment of every day in a foreign country until June. How absolutely wonderful is that? I have never felt so empowered, so wonderful in all my life. I feel so free. Free from organized institutions, free to be who I want to be, free to explore, free to know myself like I have never known myself before. Free to change. Free to be happy and content with change.

I hope that the beginning of your winters have been as wonderful as mine has. There is nothing like a fresh coat of snow to remind us that everything will be alright, everything can turn out the way we want it to, if we only allow ourselves to be flexible and never allow ourselves to stop hoping for the best.

I leave you with a tiny poem I wrote alongside that boisterous escalator in Waterstone's:

Darling, life is beautiful
All you need do is open your eyes
See the loveliness all around you
Why are you hiding from it?
There is nothing to fear
Only yourself
Let go, escape
Fall back into the arms of reality
Relax into the beat of your own heart
This is your life
Wake up and live it
Don't let anyone hold you down
Don't let anything hold you back
All you have is this minute in today
Will you hold onto it
Or let it fly?

Love to all.

ALIVE.

Today was GREAT, and amazingly productive. I went to class bright and early, headed to the library after class to check out a book on short loan (6 hours...), and traveled downtown to Rosy's Tea Shop in the city centre, where I proceeded to read 230 textbook pages in under 3 hours and complete my weekend plans, all while drinking a Belgian dark hot chocolate and rockin' my roommate's stiletto boots. Bam ba bam.

I love my life.

But throughout the past week, the love factor hasn't exactly been present. I'm going through some serious transitions in my life, which are complicated, messy, and necessary, and so am under a considerable amount of emotional stress on a daily basis. Without close friends and family nearby, this has been a bit of a battle, depending on whether or not I decide to acknowledge my inner turmoil that day. However, I know that I am on the road to finding me -- rather, I am on the road to accepting the fact that there will never be a set "me", that I am a fluid human being who changes on a daily basis. Consistency may be comforting at times, but I find that, in this circumstance, my desire for consistency within myself is the cowardly way out. Instead, I'm now striving to find peace in my fluidity, and confidence in my ability to grow, change, and fluctuate with my environment.

Basically, I've been holding myself back. I've been so worried about the changes happening within myself that I have understandably doubted who I am. And that, my friends, is one of the most difficult processes to undergo, and one we can expect to undergo numerous times in our lives. So the past week has been a little rough -- I've done a lot of thinking, a lot of staying in one place (possibly trying to compensate for the constant running around of my thoughts), etc. But I realized that I can only take so much of that... life was starting to get gloomy.

So I've reached out to people I care about and want to get to know better. I'm done holding myself back from experiencing my life to the fullest. I headed to Dogma (a club by Lace Market that hosts dance-offs every Tuesday) last night with a few of the breakdancing guys, and it was AWESOME. Did I have the guts to show my skills? Nope. Not yet. :) But I'll get there. I went off on my own to experience something outside of my comfort zone, and it was glorious.

Today I established within myself that I am more than able to thrive in my skin. I haven't been letting myself enjoy being me. Instead of loving myself and laughing at myself or whatever the case may be, I had neutralized my emotions towards myself in order to... I don't even know. What was I doing? C'mon. I am ANYTHING but neutral. I am alive, and I love being me, and maybe some days I have pimples or an extra pound around the thighs or whatever. But hey, those are parts of me, too, and there's no reason for us to hate ourselves for our imperfections. We should embrace those "imperfections", if they should even be called that, as part of life, as part of ourselves, and move forward graciously. We accept other people for who they are, why can't we accept ourselves with the same amount of grace?

So there you have it, a blog post barely about England, and very much about me IN England. But that's okay. It needed to be said.

One last thought: I don't think I could ever be with anyone who routinely sneezed into their hands. I mean, c'mon, that's what elbows are for.

Love you all, enjoy the little moments!
Amy

Hallowe'en (apostrophe completely intended)

Yes. Halloween is spelled with an apostrophe between the two E's, as if it's supposed to be a remnant of the word "evening". Just one more piece of evidence that England puts way too much work into spelling every word ever crafted into existence. Abby, Aimee, and I had a lovely Halloween debate with some British gents about the spelling and pronunciation of "aluminum". Yeah. They like to add an I to the word, making it "aluminium". Ha. Spellcheck has deemed this spelling incorrect. I stand triumphant.

SO. Halloween isn't a big deal over here, which I know, is shocking. You'd think that the country that first conjured up the pagan traditional celebration of Hallow's Eve would want to make a bigger deal out of the holiday. But alas, it seems that America once again has proven to enjoy the bigger and better, and makes Halloween one gargantuan monument to partying. England has a fetish for costume parties on any day of the week throughout the year, with stag and hen parties being all the rage, so I guess Halloween just wasn't cool enough to turn many people's heads this year.

However, I still managed to celebrate Halloween twice this weekend, which is really the only way to do it. Abby, Aimee, and I (AKA the 3 As, AKA America) headed to a vampiric house party on Lenton Street where we met up with some of our friends from Musicality and a bunch of other attractive people that we were fortunate enough to meet. After chatting up the necessary American topics with some British gents (Canada v. America, Obama, Iraq, atrocious spelling habits), we headed to Forum (UNott's version of a massive, rave-style Roscoe's) for some serious dancing. We stayed there until 3, and then called it a night.

Our next adventure came Saturday evening in the form of a flat Murder Mystery Party! IT WAS EXCELLENT FUN. We all dressed up as characters from the 1920s, and created our own backstories and motives for killing Mr. Rosenblum. I WANT TO DO THIS EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE. Maybe. I was Roxy Malone, 1920s club singer with a string of lovers and a dark and destructive past. WHOA. INTENSE.

After the MMP, which ended up with all of us being killed by an anonymous murderer (Aaron Schmaltz) because none of the stories really lined up, we headed to Pit and Pendulum, a pub inspired by the work by Edgar Allen Poe, and thus completely perfect for Halloween. The pub was crowded, so we headed to the Hog's Head, where I couldn't help myself from dancing to the music videos playing on the TVs on the wall, which drew the attention of the bouncer outside who kept amiably making fun of me. When half of our group cleared out to go to bed, the rest of us meandered back to Pit and Pendulum to buy a drink for each of the Seven Deadly Sins. Although un-iced, THEY WERE DELICIOUS. Then home. And an attempt to watch Psycho, but we fell asleep.

Yesterday was glorious as well: a day set aside to the cultivation of my intellect -- reading from the Qur'an, Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes, and Dante's Divine Comedy. There's so much for me to learn, and I am SO GRATEFUL for the time I have this year to do just that! To explore the classics, to learn from some of the greatest philosophical minds and creative explorers of all time. Yesssssssssss. This is living. This is life. This is MY life. And I love it, so much.

I've learned to truly follow my heart, even in the little things. It's important to be able to listen to those little promptings -- if you feel the need to lay on the floor and listen to music, do it. If you feel the need to dance around while walking to the bus stop, do it. If you feel the need to start reading something challenging, do it. Likewise, if you feel the need to read something completely romantic, go right ahead and do it. Life is yours to hold onto, and we must listen to what our hearts and telling us we need, and to act upon those whispers.

Love you all!

Beauty is England's Middle Name

This weekend proved that to me abundantly.

Once again I have fallen prey to the flu -- probably the product of consistently damp weather, stress from trying to figure out scheduling crapola, and over body exertion from breakdancing.

(My roommate is freaking out because the cricket world cup is being held in her home country of India while we'll still be in England. I don't understand cricket. All I know is some people eat them coated in chocolate. End side note.)

Anyway. This sickness has left me completely vulnerable to the seduction of my bed, whose invitations I have graciously accepted frequently, knowing that if I was at home, my mom would advise me to do the same. But in light of a sleepy weekend, Abby and I made a trip to Wollaton Park, which has made its mark upon my heart.

Wollaton Park, located right across the road from the University Park Campus, and larger than said campus, brought some of the best relief to my spirit that I have had in a long time. We walked through a shoddy gate house, and stepped into a wonderland of turning leaves, rustling grasses, and content families strolling with their dogs on the open green fields that tenderly hug the small lake in its southern corner. We only had the chance to explore a tiny portion of this park, but in that time we discovered a castle, found a quaint cafe (open only from 12pm-3pm on weekdays) ideal for pre-class studying, and realized that Abby's coat had been peed on by a mangy little dog while we were taking pictures next to the glorious castle wall. That was touching... really... like, you couldn't have controlled your two lb dog from urinating all over the inside of my friend's jacket? C'mon people. Do we need to put the collar on you instead? Oye.

In any case, there's nothing like fresh air, rolling hills, and endless beauty to rejuvenate the soul and strengthen a sick body. Unless you couple that with gorgeous music. Music and nature -- the heart's healers.

I have been so blessed by the little things in life. The slight adjustments in the harmonic line of a second guitar in an acoustic cover that no one would catch unless they had listened to it religiously. I tend to do that -- listen to a song over and over. If my soul finds oneness with a piece of music, it feels right to continue on that vent until my soul switches direction -- it's like coming home for a while.

But enough musical philosophy. Clearly I'm doing a lot of thinking over here, but more than anything, I am learning how to live. I am learning to enjoy every moment, to listen for the harmonic line of the second guitar in a piece of beloved music, to reach out to people instead of walking by them distractedly. To PAY ATTENTION.

More later, friends.

Oh but wait -- my roommate just informed me that the Cricket World Cup 2011 mascot is an aqua elephant named Stumpy. I think that pretty much sums it up :)

Boy Bands Are Back -- ALL RIGHT

Yes. Yes they are. JLS, runners up in X Factor (Britain's "American Idol") are incredibly popular here. And why wouldn't they be? They're gorgeous, talented, and British. Whoever decided boybands were "out" clearly did not realize the advantages of corralling the most attractive male singers and dancers in one place at one time. Sounds like a dream come true to me! Thank you, England, for having some common sense.

Except when it comes to leggings. Oh boy. Apparently leggings count as pants now, and yes, I have succumbed to wearing them as pants as well. In all reality, they shouldn't pass for pants, as they really are just thick tights, and I'm always incredibly self-conscious when I wear them in public. I check out my reflection in the store windows to make sure I don't look completely ridiculous, find out I do, then keep walking because everyone else looks as ridiculous as I do. England, someday you will look back on your poor fashion choices and laugh, but until then I will join you wholeheartedly in your legging conquest of the world seeing as leggings are possibly the most comfortable thing I could ever put on. Minimal clothing. Always a good choice.

Today I wore leggings as pants, but I also went to the Uni library for the first time with Sofia from Italy after our French class, and then headed to Brown Betty's in the city centre where we met a guy from Spain who spoke no English. So of course we talked to him in Spanish for over half an hour, which was SUBLIME. I love being able to communicate with people from other countries, albeit poorly. I've realized that while I may be able to translate Spanish like a fiend, without practice my speaking has become embarrassingly poor. Of course, as is always the case, after our conversation I was walking down the sidewalk thinking of all the Spanish phrases I should have been able to think of and use at the time. This probably resulted in me muttering to myself in Spanish in public and looking extra crazy in my legging/pants.

Shoot. In England, pants are called "trousers". "Pants" refer to undergarments. Well, I suppose leggings are closer to undergarments than trousers anyway...

All in all, life is good. Clearly. I'm chilling with people from Britain, Nigeria, Italy, France, and Spain. In one day. EXQUISITE. This is what life is about, people: boybands, minimal clothing, and spontaneous meetings (mainly the last point, but the first two as well ;)). Life is about people, it's about breaking out of our comfortable systems and communities and reaching out to people who we may never have met otherwise. If I hadn't started speaking Spanish to the guy next to me after recognizing his first language, I never would have had the experience of chatting with a native Spaniard in England. We've gotta take risks. We have to break out of those comfortable polite bubbles. Life isn't about solitude, it's about community. So get up out of your bubble and be communal, friends.

I love you all,
Ames

Oh, the things I have seen...

Today, I saw a plethora of men wearing windpants (the 80s are back, people), windows with curtains displaying ginormous lion heads, and a man on a bike almost get hit by a bus.

And I'm finding that I can no longer put together an intelligent sentence structure in English due to my studying 2/3 classes in another language. Oh French and Spanish, I hate and love you both.

And every time I hear "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry, I am slapped in the face with the fact that I am no longer a teenager, and thus must let go of my teenage dreams and move onto adulthood. Oh wait. That doesn't sound so bad after all ;)

In any case, I haven't bloggedededed for a while, and it seemed like the good time to do such. (Oh gosh. Do you hear this? I can no longer speak English. We're going to have to communicate via grunts and hand motions when I get back...)

My schedule is FINALLY starting to line up. Sort of. Still working on the whole graduating a year early thang. Which will be absolutely worth it, but right now I'm enduring a fairly painful process of sorting out credits, graduation requirements, and senior paper-itis. Ughstah. Working on setting up volunteer work, etc. as well. And yeah. That's the technical side of things.

I spent Sunday in London with four of the members of the Nottingham Breakdance Crew, which was AMAZING. We headed out at nine, in a tiny mint green car, driving on the wrong side of the road, of course. When we arrived at one, we headed straight to Bones to Stones 2010 -- a battle venue in a skate park. Literally, if you do huge moves and land it wrong, you will break bones. HOW BALLER IS THAT??? I felt like I was in a movie, it was SO LEGIT. After five hours of said battles, we headed to the main event -- UK Bboy Championships, World Finals 15th Anniversary!!! We watched the best Bboys, poppers, lockers, and crews battle it out for the championship. Six hours on our feet, and worth every minute of it.

I am so thankful for the life that I lead, and for the opportunities I have been given. I feel SO ALIVE being here -- meeting people from around the world, learning how to breakdance, learning my third language, hopefully teaching hip hop to youth. This is INCREDIBLE.

And what I've realized, is that the more I try to find a "deeper meaning" in life, the less I actually LIVE my life. Why do we look for "deeper meanings" when the meaning of life is to LIVE IT? Thus I'm instilling a policy of less thinking and more living, because my life is going to pass me by unless I grab it with both hands and refuse to let go. This is my life, and I'm going to live it the way I choose -- to the fullest, no regrets, just being me.

That's all, let that be food for thought for your own lives :) Just live your lives, loves.
Love to you all,
Amy