My Mumbling Thoughts

She's going. No, she's staying. Wait a minute, she's going. But not really, she's staying.

Left and right, back and forth. I've been jerked every which way when it comes to this Easter holiday, and I'm scared to say that I might actually be going home. I won't say that it's official just yet because the actual plane ticket hasn't been bought and I'm still standing outside with a sign that says, "please take me home!"

The plan way, way back in the day was that I was going to be coming home during Easter and then come back to London to finish up my studies. As we all now know, my original plan eventually went to shit and everything else seemed to spiral down with it. Then once I didn't go home for Christmas I realized just how badly I probably should have gone home since the homesickness decided to eat away at my body and turn me into a slug that didn't do anything except slouch around the flat, watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer on dvd and smoke for about a month and a half. It really wasn't a pretty sight. I was really looking forward to our Easter vacation since I thought I would be going back home until that idea was quickly shot down by Momma who was still sore over the fact that I didn't come home over the Christmas break and was punishing me for being an irresponsible twat, yet again. I then found out that Momma, Mel and Amy would be making a business trip over here instead over the Easter break and I would just chill with them the entire time. That is until Momma found out how expensive it would be to bring Mel over here with her and decided that the cheapest thing to do would be to send me back home for two and a half weeks.

Whew! That is where we stand thus far. If everything goes according to plan, this coming Wednesday I will be firmly sat in an airplane headed towards the United States once again to relax and forget about all of my uni worries for two and a half whole weeks.

Jesus am I really looking forward to that!

Seven and a half months I have been in London. Over seven whole months! I haven't left once. I haven't even gone to any other town or city in England. Just London. Only London. Sure, I've gone to Wimbledon, Hammersmith, Putney, Richmond, Kingston, Central and other different places, but they're all apart of L-O-N-D-O-N. I don't know how I've done it, survived here for so long, especially since I don't have any money and haven't had any in a very long time. At least not my own money.

Life has been taking a slow turn for the better though, I will say that. The past couple of months have been really hard, with me being depressed (hiding it), being poor (trying to hide it) and remaining homesick (also hiding it). I was in the worst rut that I've been in for a long time and it has been a battle trying to claw my way back up the massive hole that I fell down in.

I'm not sure if it was the weather changing into more sunny days or perhaps just an attitude change that clicked inside of me, but one day I finally decided that I was tired of being a lazy asshole and that I needed to do something about it. After I got my national insurance number (I get to pay British taxes now, yay!) I printed off loads of copies of my CV and just handed them out to different shops and pubs in the surrounding area. I got a call from two places and hopefully will have a steady job once I get back from good 'ole VA.

Oh Virginia, how I've missed my home. I've waken up a couple of times because I swear I can hear Momma and Mel outside my bedroom door in our hallway doing laundry and trying to come in my room quietly so they can check if I have any dirty clothes lying around. Sometimes I feel like I'm in my double bed and expect to wake up looking out at the other townhouses outside my window. I miss my home, I miss Momma and Mel, I miss my friends and oh my lord do I miss the food. After I land and we leave the airport I'm going to ask Momma to stop in by Five Guys so I can order two hamburgers and a large bag of their spicey chips.

That's right. I call fries, chips now. It's scary.

I've been really busy as well, and it doesn't include me being at the Belfry. Well, it sort of does, but I'm not drinking and causing a scene like usual. I've been helping Zoe campaign for Entertainments Officer for next year. I'm her campaign manager. It's cool. We go out, socialize a bit and talk to people and make sure that they're voting for my girl. I helped design her posters, flyers and her manifesto. I also helped DJ Dave with his posters and flyers as well. It has been good busy for a change and I remember what it was like to actually have stuff to do other than wake up, get dressed and go to the bar.

We've also sorted out who we're going to be living with next year and have called an estate agent to help us all find a place to live since we won't be on campus. I will be living with Helen, Carlene and Trish, which is exactly what I wanted. It's really weird to think about not living on campus next year. If I had to guess I'd say that 75% of my shit now resides in London and it's my home. I call this home. This is where I live, where I go, where all of my stuff is, where I feel most comfortable. Leaving never really entered my mind and to think about new people living here next year doesn't feel right.

I'm okay with moving somewhere else though. I'll have my closest friends with me and how awesome will it be to actually share a flat with three of my best friends? Our own place. Off campus. We'll have jobs, we'll be going to uni, we'll be living a proper London life, not the student one that has drained every last bit of energy from all of our bodies. It's going to rule.

I'm still taking things one day at a time though and making sure that I do at least one productive thing every day that doesn't include me taking a shower and putting make-up on. I work on my laundry if I have the money, do a bit of coursework or read a little out of a real book and not one of the magazines that tend to collect on our kitchen table.

I just keep on thinking about going home and trying, trying so hard not to get my hopes up, heaven forbid something goes wrong again and I'm told that I will be staying over the Easter break. I will breakdown and cry for three days straight if that happens. Zoe and Helen may potentially be flying over during the second week that I'm home and spending the easy going days with me in VA as well if all goes right. All three of us will pretend that there isn't any uni drama and come back refreshed to finish out the term. Busy days.

*Keeping my fingers crossed*

Posted by Sam at 08:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Females. We are an emotional species aren't we? No matter how much we like to pretend and deny that we aren't, we still are. We either bottle it up so much in fizzy water that eventually it all bubbles up to the top and we explode, or we tie it up neatly in a little pouch until the seams begin to fall apart and it slowly seeps out of the sides. I'm not sure why we feel the need to keep it all inside, but nevertheless the majority of us do until we simply cannot bear it anymore.

The entire flat has been down for the past month or so. Everyone has problems and rather than sitting down and talking about what's bothering us, we decide to cope together by either getting pissed or stoned. The numbing effect works wonders but only for so long.

It was at the very last Palais when my fizzy water was shook up too much and I broke down on Helen's shoulder in the middle of the food court that they have for the pissheads that need something to soak up all of their alcohol. It was Digby Dave's birthday and boy Sam's birthday. I knew I wanted to go to celebrate Dave's birthday and I planned on getting drunk enough to dance happily amongst my friends, but not so wasted until I was a big ball of emotions lashing out at boy Sam for existing. I was successful until the end of the night when I needed to sit down for a fag break. I briefly spoke to boy Sam whilst dancing and soon after I walked off the dance floor, closely followed by Helen and couldn't contain the tears any longer.

It wasn't him. For once it wasn't him. I was over him. I had been over him for quite some time. I was only using him as an excuse as to why I got so emotional every time I drank too much. I knew exactly what the problem was, I just didn't feel like sharing with any of my flatmates. Crying over a boy was more acceptable in my mind than crying over my own problems that I created for myself. Besides, I didn't want them to see me down or think of me as weak. I was always the one who helped them, who made the stupid jokes when they weren't feeling their greatest and lifted them up. I was the cheery one who appeared to have everything in control and wasn't bothered by the fact that I have no money, that I've turned into this lazy person that I despise and still torn up over the fact that things between me and my mother aren't fabulous. I felt like I would have been a broken record and they would soon get tired of listening and tell me the same things that I've been telling myself for ages.

Get up and do something about it you fucking whiny baby. Nobody's going to do it for you. Duh.

It was hard but at the same time a huge relief to get it out of my system. To have somebody listen to me and see me at my most vulnerable was extremely scary and comforting at the same time. I babbled on and on and on about everything that I've been ignoring for the past four months and ranted and cried and could not stop. As soon as the flood gates had been opened it was difficult to try and shut them again.

"Sam, listen to me. I know things are shit right now. Everybody is going through shit. But you, you are not pathetic. I think you're so brave for moving your entire life over here. I can't even imagine everything you've had to go through to make it here. You're strong and you take care of us all when we need to be taken care of. But you've got to take care of yourself now, Sam. It's your turn. We'll all be fine and you know what? We'll help each other. It'll be fine."

"I miss my mom. I want to go home. I miss her so much and I hate to think that she's angry with me and disappointed in me. This isn't me. This isn't what I do. I'm not like this. And I had plans but now I can't even do them because I feel like the hole I've dug for myself is too deep. You're my best friend here, Helen, and I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here with me."

"You're my best friend here too. God, the amount of times I've come to you about all of my problems with David and such. I'm just glad that I can help you out from time to time."

We came back home after saying our final goodbye's to the Palais and made some toast. While we were in the kitchen I saw that Helen was off in her own world. She looked sad and I could tell that she was down. I told her to meet me in my room when she was finished and we'd have a chat.

She came walking in with a teddy bear that Fiona let her borrow and sat on my computer chair.

"I needed something to cuddle with," she told me.

"Do you want to sit on the bed? We'll get under the blanket."

She nodded and sniffled a little bit which lead to her tears for the evening. She came to sit next to me, put her head on my shoulder and I held her while we both cried holding onto our teddy bears.

"It's everything," I said to her and I could feel her nod under my arms. "And you know what? Nobody other than all of us will know how it feels or know what we're talking about when we say that all of this is shit. They won't understand because they aren't here, living it day-to-day. This is something that we're all experiencing and sharing together. And as much as it has been shit recently, it's still special in it's own fucked up kind of way. It may be cheesy and really corny, but we've got each other and that's something to appreciate. At least we aren't here alone, suffering."

We cried more and sat in silence with her head still resting on my shoulder. It was a moment but neither one of us wanted to mention it. It wasn't necessary. It never is. Instead I made one of my stupid/funny jokes and we eventually went to bed not sure if things would improve, but knowing that we could seek comfort in each other if the time ever came again.

Posted by Sam at 03:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)