It took two months and a lot of visitors from Madison (none of them mine) in order to feel the first twinges of homesickness. Friends of friends came in droves, bringing with them things like giant jars of Jif peanut butter, cases of Mountain Dew and boxes of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. They brought tales of the all the new anti-drug commercials, which we cannot see, and complained about how cold it has been. I never said I missed everything, but certain little things come to mind.
I miss my computer, with its vast collection of MP3s and speakers through which to blare them. I miss being able to listen to music sans headphones. I miss being able to sing without having to worry if someone is listening. I miss pulling out my crappy electric guitar every month, neglecting to plug it in, playing the few songs I know and putting it away while complaining that I'll never be good enough to be in a band.
I miss silly things, like construction paper and crayons to make homemade birthday cards with. I miss all my sneakers that weren't sensible items to pack. I miss not having to clean someone else's dirty dishes in order to use them at all. I miss being able to breathe air that doesn't make my snot turn grey.
I miss reading the Cardinal in paper format and actually feeling in touch with my campus far away from here. I miss being in the same time zone as my friends and family.
Of course, there are things I don't look forward to when I get home. Such as working off the thousands of dollars I will owe my parents when all of this is over with. Or telling people stories to find out that they're not all that interested in what I have to say. Or being back to a place where patriotism fuelled by idiocy is allowed to continue at rampant rates (case in point: freedom fries).
And there will be things I miss about London. I will miss having an extensive public transportation system that reassures me that it's OK not to own a car. I will miss having all my food, whether from grocery stores or otherwise, clearly marked as \suitable for vegetarians."" I will miss Cadbury's chocolate bars. I will miss being in a country where violence and handguns are not an everyday part of life.
At this point, the prospect of living out of a backpack for a few weeks and increasing my debt is looking exciting and exhausting all at once. One thing is for certain, though-at the end of it, I will be glad to go home.
Since this rambling about myself notes my departure from the columnist's world, I would like to thank you all for reading, and I hope the future holds the best for you and yours.
