Honesty

Why Hello,

Today I need to be pretty frank about something that’s been bothering me for awhile. I have never known, before this semester, what it feels like to be truly happy at a school that I’ve attended. Yes, my school has millions of amazing amenities, classes that I’ve learned so much in, professors that I’ve bonded with, and my best friends in the world, but I’ve never been completely happy in the two and a half years I’ve been there. I thought that it was just because I wasn’t a happy person and I just had to stick it out because everyone else loves it there, but I’ve learned something in the past week (yes, only one week) while I’ve been at St. Andrews. It’s not that I’m an unhappy person at all, it’s that I was in a situation where, no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be completely happy. Now, internet people, you might ask how I could know all this after just one week? It’s because I’ve managed to have one of the worst days of my entire life while attending this university, and friends that I’ve only known for a week managed to turn it into one of the best nights I’ve ever had. And I couldn’t be more thankful for that. Or for them. It’s astounding how quickly they’ve all become like family to me. I wouldn’t trade them for the world. And that’s all I have to say about it.

Until the next adventure.

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Arrived

Why hello there!

I’ve officially arrived in St Andrews, and although the beginning was a tad shaky, I LOVE IT HERE.  I’m already extremely jealous of the students who get to spend an entire four years here because it’s everything I ever wanted in a university.  I love my home university, but I have extra perks here, like a small town that’s easy to walk around.

Getting here was atrocious.  The actual flight from Boston to Heathrow wasn’t that bad.  They fed me, no one sat next to me, and I got a full thirty minutes of sleep!  I was obviously hoping to sleep more, but alas, you can’t always get what you want.  The real fun started in Heathrow.  I had about an hour and a half to get through customs and security and to get to my gate.  I thought all would be easy since I didn’t have to leave terminal five, but how very wrong I was.  I walked forever just to get to customs (with a twenty pound bag filled with clothes and heavy backpack filled with electronics), but that wasn’t even the worst walk.  I got lucky at customs and made it there while the line was short, and minutes after I got there the line got wicked long.  If I had been at the back of that line rather than the front I would’ve missed my connection, so someone was looking out for me.

After customs I had to go through security which wasn’t really a huge problem, but I did have trouble because I had to constantly put my heavy bag down and pick it back up and so on and so forth.  Then, after getting through security I figured getting to my gate would be a breeze.  No one airport terminal can really be THAT big right?  Wrong.  Dead wrong.  Heathrow, I’ve decided, is not an airport.  It is a mall that happens to have airplanes take off from it.  Long story short I walked forever and ever and got sweaty and stinky and finally made it to my plane.  Where I was sat in the very last row.  Because I really needed to do more walking.  If I had been ten minutes later it would’ve left without me.

The shuttle from Edinburgh was uneventful.  Move in was pretty uneventful too.  Lots of me wanting to go home and feeling like I made a bad choice (I like to doubt myself, you see).  BUT THEN I made a friend.  A very nice friend named Abi.  And she introduced me to her friends and I met some other JSA’s and now everything is just amazing.  And I’d give anything to never have to go home.  And that’s all I have to say about it.

Until the next adventure.

P.S. Sorry about the lack of photos, I haven’t had much of a chance to wander and take them.  They’re coming, I promise!

Almost Time To Go!

Happy New Year!

It is officially the year that I finally get to study abroad, and I couldn’t be more terrified excited!  In 18 days I board a long, long flight over to the UK and then I try to act like the adult that I am (supposed to be).  When I finally show up to St Andrews I’ll have a laundry list of things to get done on my own.  Is it too late to buy my mom a plane ticket?  Considering I’ve technically been living on my own for the majority of the year for the last two and a half years, I’m not overly worried.  I’m just in the scary stretch that lasts the entire time leading up to going somewhere new + the first couple of days that you’re there, and it’ll dissipate after I’ve gotten there and seen it’s not so scary after all!  So, needless to say, I’m ready to leave.

When I get there the exciting posts finally begin!

Until the next adventure.