It’s hard to believe that right now people at Vassar are taking classes, eating at the Deece, and participating in daily shenanigans while I’m sleeping in a bed in Brighton, England. I’m at the beginning of my term abroad at the University of Sussex, and everything still feels like one big practical joke, like I’m on The Truman Show or something. But I’m living it, and just trying to take it day by day. I had to go through international…
The first month is a really interesting threshold in an exchange year. My sleeping situation is finally better, I have managed to not catch the cold that’s been going around the group (fingers crossed), and I have learned how to say “to go” in a cafe (suck it last-post-me). But I blame Paris for having so many must-see-places-in-your-life that I constantly feel like a tourist. The first time you go on the Eiffel Tower (not yet), the first time you…
I’m a big believer in signs. Growing up, in my desperation to confirm whether or not my crushes “like-liked” me, I ascribed meaning to our most insignificant interactions. If the object of my affection glanced at me in the hallway as we crossed paths, for instance, I could safely start planning our future together. At Vassar, too, I routinely took the presence of my favorite mushy, tasteless cantaloupe in the dining hall to mean I’d have a good day. My…