Who are the people in your neighborhood?

The people who I meet each day are the teachers at the boys’ school and other than that, only the people who I pass on the street. My friends, up until last Thursday, were all five- to seven-years-old, basically. We would meet to play football and Tonka trucks at the playground. Around 11 o’clock, we would share stories about Phineas and Ferb, “Spidey,” and our common knowledge about sheep and daffodils at snack time. Then, around two or three o’clock, we would say our good-byes and I would help them zip their coats. Yes, those were my friends and that was the extent of my social life.

Now, I have a new apartment and a new friend! I am very excited about this because although I thought I could manage by myself and just be a quiet, homebody for eight weeks, I found out that I can’t do that at all. I was quite depressed and very lonely. Now, I am more content and happy to be social when I get home from school. For my family and close friends, it will be no surprise that I like to talk and share stories—the whole story with all of the juicy details. So, now I have a housemate named Matt, who is also an American, to talk to and one who doesn’t mind too much if I make a little smoke in the kitchen with my new cooking concoctions—which could really just be Ramen noodles and French toast, but somehow there is always a haze of smoke after I cook! The food tastes good, but I have to figure out how to get rid of the special fire hazard touch I add to the recipes.

The old apartment, in which I stayed for four nights, was more of a convent than an apartment. (My idea of becoming a nun two years ago came back to haunt me in a very real way.) I was being highly monitored, the house was freezing, and it was in a low-lit part of town, twenty minutes from the center of everything. The main reason for the move was privacy—and I got it! I am much happier with my new living situation because I have freedom to come and go as I please, heat, and a five-minute walk to the school, grocery store, and shops. Movin’ on up to the Eastside, Jeffersons!

In a week and a half, I’ll be going to England to visit all of my old friends and apply for jobs in the Northern part of the country. If I am meant to be there permanently, then I guess I will find out in the next couple months; and, if I am not meant to be in England, then who knows where I will end up? I just know that after three days in England last year during my study abroad experience, I felt completely safe and loved every minute of being where I was. I think everybody needs to find this feeling and try to go wherever they feel the most at peace. Plus, I would already know the people in my neighborhood and I know that they say, “Hello,” back to me when I greet them.