Guess who's craaaazy?

It's not typically the style to get uncomfortably personal in a travel blog, but what do I know about style? I'm going to share an entry from my personal journal. Still no details on what I'm actually doing in London, but this is just as much a part of the story, so it's only right to include it.

Anxiety has become my closest companion. I find that since coming here, I am never completely unaware of my anxiety level. How do you let go of that? I want to, but wanting isn't enough. I am not going to become fully used to living with 12 other people while trying to make the most of my time here, get my personal goals done, do well in class, and budget my money. It's an overwhelming challenge in itself to live with so many people and I'm starting to think that secretly this is the real purpose of the program; this is what we're being graded on because it's a hell of a lot more challenging than class. If you are able to survive and maintain sanity (if it was ever present), through 4 months of this, you deserve college credit. The funny thing is, no part of me wants this to end. As negative as I may sound, I've never been happier in a situation because my mind has never been so occupied and constantly stimulated. I want to play this game until I have it mastered. The tricky part is that knowing we have to be around each other until the end, there exists- we simultaneously exist- in a parallel secret realm of communication made of silent mental signals and judgements but though we choose diplomatically not to speak these things, we know it is as real and as present as our physical beings. We are slowly learning each other and always judging; it's inevitable. We are presented with the challenge to not only get along for 4 months, but the prison sentence is at the same time a ticking clock, a limit, and we are rapidly running out of time to figure each other out and figure out how to maneuver ourselves into a comfortable spot between each other's personalities. I love the challenge even though it is draining me physically and mentally.

Yesterday, I finally saw the limit of my money for the rest of my time here. I know exactly how much I have left. For the past 24 hours, it has stressed me out, been my reason for calling it a bad day (though I honestly had a pretty good day). Not until writing this do I see how much of a positive thing it might actually be. I've been in a dumb financial bubble, completely careless and with that, I haven't been using my time wisely. I'm going to be doing a lot less going out and partying from this point on, and I can thank knowing I have to stretch $1,000USD to May 3rd.

(Wait... I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. OK, I'm good...) This forces me to do the things I swore to myself I would do here. I will have to spend time writing my screenplay, doing art, practicing guitar, figuring myself out, because I won't be in a pub. I know there is ample disappointment ahead when it comes down to not being able to do certain things with everyone else, but it's only my fault. And just to get repetitive, I have so much to figure out by myself anyway. If my money was unlimited, chances are, I'd go home with more regrets. That's a lie I'm going to tell myself.

That being established, from this point on I should be done my self-loathing rants and recording what's actually going on in my life.

O Pioneers!

Get uncomfortable. Run at top speed from familiar walls. You are not who you think.

I haven't experienced enough to give any other advice, but this little life-nugget has forced its way into my brain through an ear and is furiously redecorating.

Before the first week of January, I had never been off of the East Coast; never out of Philadelphia for more than a week at a time. For the next 3 months, I’ll be in London, studying abroad and living in a flat that is housing thirteen people. No, I said thirteen. But I’ll get to that. Stagnancy is a slow death. I’m grateful beyond words to be living completely out of my context. There’s no other way to know yourself.

I can’t find any of the cameras yet, but at this point I’m fairly certain I’m a part of some social experiment in stuffing a large group of people in a tiny space, in a strange land to see how long it takes for them to go Lord of the Flies.

As much as I had wanted to record everything that happened since the plane ride, it’s kind of interesting to begin writing three weeks in, after the honeymoon.

But darling, wasn’t it a grand honeymoon? We floated on air along the streets of Kensington, thirteen pairs of linked arms just to go to the supermarket like an interracial Brady Bunch (the episode where they all get inebriated and make bad sexual decisions).

It’s a tricky thing to live with a lot of people, but to be honest, we have an interesting lineup of characters and I’m harboring no bad feelings. It’s a tense kind of situation to throw so many people in one flat, but through that, I am picking up beautiful things from some of them. As a writer of character-heavy screenplays, I appreciate all sides of these personalities. What better way to analyze human behavior than to be immersed in it?*

*The answer is: "With a fourth bathroom"