My Metaphorical Leap-of-Faith Poster Fell Down Yesterday.

Before moving I bought a poster of a photograph called "The Spirit of Adventure," which is of a man jumping over an enormous puddle trying to get from the road to the walkway. At the time of purchase I just thought it was an interesting photo, but once I settled into my room in Canterbury I realized I could be literary and say the man and the puddle were a metaphor for me and the Atlantic Ocean. And because I am overly sentimental, and because it's in my direct line of vision when I'm lying in bed, whenever I felt upset about leaving Miami I'd look at the poster and draw strength from it. If that man thought that he could dryly make it to the sidewalk (well pavement, as the Brits say), so could I emotionally survive the move.

It's no secret that I've had the worst time of it lately, and it was proper that at the culmination of my struggle Craig would point out that it doesn't look like the man is going to make it. Suddenly the poster wasn't inspiring but a daily reminder that it was foolish of me to think I could do this. And I know this all sounds contrived and too poetic, but the only way my mind makes sense of anything anymore is through literary devices. At least I know I chose the right subject to study.

The past few weeks have been moody and sporadic, but I've just kept reminding myself that there are x amount of days until I go home and can regroup. I'd accepted that both this man and I were going to fall in the water. Then yesterday I heard a rustle as I entered my room and saw the poster hanging by its last corner. The only thing keeping it from falling completely was my drying rack with all I'd hand-washed the day before. And it just struck me because I knew it had to be significant in my metaphorical life. 9 days before I'm set to go home the Blu-Tac gods tried to send me a message-- that I am ridiculous. And that I need to get over myself.

This year has taught me a lot, mainly that I need to stop being dramatic. That man and I are not the same person. That puddle is not the Atlantic. I will make it to the pavement, dry and in one piece. I just need to remember to be brave. And I need to put more Blu-Tac on my posters.

A good mood?! Must be all the sugar.

You know that feeling when all of a sudden, things just seem simple? When no matter how much work you have ahead of you, or what is going on, you know that things are going to turn out as they should, maybe even turn out well. And you just feel at ease with everything around you. This might be another mood swing, but I won't question it. I have a good feeling about summer term, and summer in Miami. This is one of those moments where all the tears, the struggles seem justified and worth it. I think I might finally be able to say that I've come to terms with the decisions I've made, and with my new home. I've accepted that I've moved, and that it's for the best. And really, it's all thanks to my housemates. No matter how much I annoy them, or they annoy me, at the end of the day they're still there to share some laughs and make more silly memories. I don't know what I did to get so lucky, but I'm ecstatic about my next two years here.

"The Scottish wedding is starting. NOW!"

Beautiful day today. Sun is shining and I have the house to myself, music blaring. There's a nice breeze coming through my window. Not going to question this euphoric mood.

Things are going splendidly at the moment. That might be the weather talking. Caro was here last week, which is insanity. Couldn't ask for a more amazing best friend, who after 12 years is surprisingly still putting up with me. Her visit just me made want to race home, or have everyone race here. I'm really building up summer, but it'll live up to expectations.

Kent Union elections are this week, so candidates have been going door to door giving out leaflets and such. They're also standing outside the library, as I discovered this morning. There's this guy running for Sports VP (i think) who stopped by the house yesterday. I brought his flyer upstairs and after a while Claire runs into my room and proclaims "HE'S NAKED!" In the picture next to his information he's simply wearing some cricket gear. Then when I met Emma in the library, I noticed that she had one of his flyers. So I loudly proclaim, "Did you realize he's naked?! Claire pointed it out to me last night and I was like 'eewww get it away!' So gross." I see Emma look uncomfortably to the side and as I follow her gaze I realize Naked Sports Boy is standing 5 feet from me, awkwardly trying to avoid my gaze.

We're going out tonight and I am quite excited. We haven't been out since last Wednesday, and while I had a great time because Caro was with us, it didn't feel like a proper night out. So I'm off to Essentials to see if they have the rosee I like. I really am tired of vodka oranges. I might've forever ruined orange juice for myself.

It's One of Those Nights Again

Sometimes I'll look around my room and remember that it's not mine. I've tried to make it at least feel mine, dressing it up with pictures and posters on the wall, little trinkets laying about. Usually it fools me long enough to get to sleep, but some nights I remember where I am.

I miss the feeling of my old rug between my toes, even though it desperately needed to be vacuumed and shampooed. I miss the four tiny rays of sunshine that would steal through the metal hurricane shutters on my window that we still haven't taken down because the neighbor that would lend us his ladder moved away. I miss my noisy fan with the broken light chain. I miss the little dent on my wall next to my bed where my old laptop hit it when I threw it on my bed and it bounced.

Now I have the bit of bare wall where the tape ripped some paint off when I was repositioning my poster. I have the scratch on the other wall from where I tripped and fell on my suitcase, causing it to graze and mark said wall with a black line. I have the tape residue on my door from where the christmas wrapping paper was. I know I've only been here 5 months, and it can't amount to the 11 years I lived in my room in Miami, but I need some memories to grab on to. At least for tonight.

I should go buy a teddy bear.