Last post: Or BAG OF EMOTIONS

After my last final, I realized that I was going to say goodbye to everyone I met here, and will, in all honesty, never see them again. This includes many of my american friends, who live in different states. First thing that was odd about the night of the 17th: I didn't even think of crying. I was so lazer focused on getting safe and sound to the airport, that I didn't think of anyone else.

If you know me, you know that I cry very easily when it comes to goodbyes. They are what make movies like Return of the King and, yes, even Mamma Mia, nigh unwatchable to me. This is even sadder than if someone dies. They're still alive. They have every reason never to separate, but they do. If you know the depths of the friendships I made here, seeing me with dry eyes and a face only red and sniffly from the cold is downright sociopathic. Of course, I gifted several Brits what I thought they would like in American Indie. I was going to hang out with my flatmates first, before traipsing off to Koko and getting visibly drunk, getting noodles, going back to Koko, going to Teviot, going to Burger King, going back to Teviot, and finally ending the night with the people I love most.

THUSLY

I stayed up with Jan, Rory, James, and Ayesha all sitting in my depressing, empty room.

When they said goodbye, I felt a twinge of tears. When I was writing the note to my flatmates, telling them how awesome they were, tears quivered. But nothing came of it. It wasn't until I was in the taxi at 5 am, with Dillon, talking about how I was a pseudo mentor/punching bag to everyone, did a tear run down my cheek. I got to the airport and hugged Dillon goodbye. I then got in line, was told that I had to wait for my flight to be called. I hung out with Emily, Dillon, and Corey while I waxed poetic on my own madness. They left. "IT'S FULL OF BLOOD!"


After that, I ran into Finlay, an elementary school friend who was also studying in Edinburgh, and we waited in line together. When we finally got to the front of the line, the news hit us like a ton of pigeons.

"London is closed"

Thousands of people were stranded in London. It was easy to fly into, but impossible to get out of. Not because of lave, not because of the four horsemen of apocalypse, not even because of a psychotic escaped Irish setter: because of snow. It had snowed litte more than an inch, and this country is so goddamn incompetent that they shove their fingers in their ears and let it's citizens riot. Finlay and I then made panicked phone calls to our parents, me yelling at my mother for not getting impossible flights fast enough, Finlay pale and nodding at what her father had to say. Keep in mind, I was going on no hours of sleep, and Finlay was doing similarly. We ran into a friend of hers that was waiting in line for six hours. British Airways--I am disappoint. Never flying you ever again.

LIST OF THINGS THAT MADE ME WEEP IN SUCCESSION:

I haven't slept in 24 hours (unhealthy)

I'm missing my birthday, my birthday dinner, and being able to order my first drink. (sad)

Getting home and leaving a message on the boyfriend's wall about how I'm not going to see him (very sad)

Eating porridge and diet coke where it was supposed to be wine and pasta. On my birthday (extremely depressing)

Having my flatmate come and hug me in bed to say goodbye (happy)

My other flatmate made me a cake (very happy)

GusGus left a comment on my wall about being safe, and not worrying (touching)

My boyfriend calls me and has his entire family sing happy birthday to me (joyful)

And now, my friends, I hope to get up at 5 am and hop on a plane to Dublin (after breakfast, of course), Dublin to Chicago, Chicago to San Francisco, where my parents and boyfriend will meet me. Hopefully. If all hell doesn't break loose.