E+8

If I've ever made a mistake over and over again in this life, it has been allowing my preconceived notions of the world to shape my thoughts and behavior. I came to England expecting some highly Romanticized world to unfold before me, and now that I have been here a full week I have found that such a world does not, in fact, exist, and though I thought I had destroyed that Romanticized imaginary Cheltenham when I initially decided to stay home several weeks ago, the world lives on, and continues to take precedent over my reality.

So, as my reality has been increasingly poignant in the past several days, I feel myself jolted out of that preconceived notion of my future, and rather in a very foreign milieu, one that could take weeks getting used to. The secularism of this country is partially to credit for a sense of apprehension I have been feeling lately, and not on a small scale, but something I think can be attributed to the collective conscience of the masses. I don't feel at home, yet. I hope that soon, probably coinciding with the beginning of my classes on Tuesday, that I can get in the groove and become more comfortable in my time and place.

Wondering what would happen in the United States abandons religion like Europe did. I'll think about that more and probably write about it later.

E+5

Fifth day in England. Already past the shock and awe of being in England. Everyone is getting settled in quite nicely. Freshers (Freshmen) moved in to our building yesterday, so that certainly adds much more to the cultural landscape of Regency Hall. There are 30 of us Americans in Regency and 69 British students all told, and we are really only getting started to know them. However, we've met lots more of the locals throughout town in our various escapades the past five days. Everything is seeming more realistic now; the Romantic notion of this semester seems to be slowly filtering out of my brain at least, and as I can see, most other American brains in the BCA program anyways.
The culture I am experiencing is truly amazing. Not that I agree with everything (like I ever would anywhere, even in the States) in English culture, but it is just so great to be able to experience everything here. Also, within our BCA group and on my flat there are people from elsewhere in Europe and Africa, and that is creating a stimulating many-sided cultural shape in my daily thoughts and conversations. At any time, I can talk to someone from any range of heritages. It's wonderful.

First day in England

Traveling was long and tiring. By the time we got to our rooms, and I was able to sufficiently smell myself before showering, I was certain that my deodorant had stopped working some time in the past 15 hours. What a wonderful shower. All 28 people in the BCA Cheltenham program assembled for some introductory information and pizza, and I was afterwards able to get everything out of my bags and set up my room. It is wonderful having this room. All to myself, and my own bathroom, to boot. All through my last trip this summer I wanted to simply put my underwear and socks into a dresser or drawers. Now that I have completed said action, I feel complete.
So about nine of us just went to a Mexican restaurant a few blocks away: Chiquito. Mexican food on our first night in England- I know, I thought it was terribly ironic as well. Other than slight confusion as to how we pay, where to put the tip, how much to tip if at all, and how to avoid looking like stupid American tourists, dinner went off without a hitch.
Then we realized that we were in England, because it had started pouring outside halfway during our meal. Unbeknownst to us, a rain storm had swooped down on Cheltenham.
Next time, I'm bringing a dagum umbrella.

E-1

     Leaving for England tomorrow. Ready to go. Still have some minute last minute things to do, like pack two suitcases.
     Two weeks ago when I had decided to stay home but still wanted to go to England, I wondered if I would ever feel at peace about my final decision. I was miserable that week, because I though that staying home would be best for me, though it burned my insides with disappointment. I looked forward to that point in time when I could just laugh about it, after the right path had become painfully clear.
     I do feel the path is painfully clear. I'm sure when I visit all of the wonderful places abroad, I will thank myself for not being an ignoramus and staying home.

Across the Pond

     This has been a wonderful summer. After getting home from my six-week trip to Israel, Germany, the Czech Republic, and Austria, I took a summer course at the University of Akron to get ahead, World Literatures. How fitting. We read mostly short stories by authors from all over the world, all of non-European or American heritage. Looking back, the story that stands out the most to me is Yukio Mishima's The Sound of Waves. It's a quick read, and not too difficult, but is a truly beautiful novella.

     Other than that, I have been mowing lawns and clearing underbrush to make a little money for my travels this Fall. I just finished Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey about a week ago. That was some fun reading. I agree with whoever wrote the introduction: Austen seems to start the novel as strictly a satire on Gothic fiction, but then falls in love with her story and finishes it as a half-satire, half-regular novel. By regular I mean the specific style of Austen's work I have read thus far. I started Mansfield Park by Austen about a week ago, and although I had originally hoped to finish it before leaving for England, it looks like I will have to finish it there.
                                                          Me deciding to go England, well thats a story in and of itself.
    
     I had been planning all summer to study this semester in England through BCA. I had my plane ticket, my classes mostly picked out, and many other necessary details all taken care of. However, the Friday before Malone's classes started (two weeks ago exactly), I started to think about all that I would miss this semester if I went to England. By Sunday I decided to stay home. Now I see that I had a bad case of Cold Feet, but then I thought I wasn't ready, I would miss Chorale, Sightlines, Theater, Alpha Rho Iota, family, friendships, Fall in Ohio (which I'm convinced is more wonderful than any other time of year in any other place in the world), and so on. I went to classes the first four days of school, Monday through Thursday. I was miserable the whole week. I didn't unpack what I already had packed because I didn't want to let go of the prospect of studying at the University of Gloucestershire in England. All I did was hang my Casablanca movie poster back on the wall above my bed in my room.
On that Thursday, I thought of my situation. Three former professors of mine told me that I should rethink my decision. My family told me they would support me either way. With the balance of the whole semester and possibly the potential energy of the events of my life before me, I hung on to one thing:
                                                          -That I would live in regret the rest of my life if i didn't go.

     Fortunately, that settled it. I reached my conclusion, and stuck with it. I dropped all of my classes, and told everyone that I was going to England, contrary to what I told them three or four days prior. Now, I have less than a week in the country, and have so much left to do before I leave. It feels strange that on only this coming Wednesday will I leave Canton and spend the next three months living and studying in England. I'm excited to see what this semester will hold; if I had stood by my decision to stay home this semester, I would have known perfectly well what I was gaining by staying home...

                                                        ...but I would have had no idea what I was missing abroad.