emily (voiceofyoureyes) wrote,
emily
voiceofyoureyes

these foolish things (which act as markers in our lives)

it is overly strange to sit in my mother's bedroom, with santamonica air/view/smells surrounding me, and be barraged by reserved students emails and commands to come play pick-up on mertz at 4:30. classes start today at swarthmore, and by now I would be moved in, hunkered down, and a million mental miles away from these walks and meals and southern californian pleasures. but instead I have 8 days left here before moving to paris for the semester ("moving" sounds better than "studying abroad," does it not? more like an attempt at autonomy and originality than the obvious, eurocentric, liberal-arts-school-english-major move that it really is). I need to do things relating to electronics and clothes, and when I'm done deciding what books I should bring (shakespeare & co and the abbey bookshop will buoy me through anything forgotten or any cravings I should develop); when I'm done with all that, what else is left? seems that my life, or at least, its accoutrements, is pretty much covered by those categories. mental preparation is another bag entirely, and one which I've given up on for the most part. meaning, I've moved beyond my fear to playfully telling customers, "I'm sure the first few weeks are going to be awful!" and when they assure me how wrong I am, I cheerfully contradict them, meaning every word. this isn't banter, this is the truth of my future existence: it's going to be incredibly difficult at first, and, like most things, if I think about it directly I'm scared to my depths. but I'll be in paris (PARIS!!), and experience has shown me that I'm better at life when it's happening than when I'm anticipating it. so, it will all be okay, n'est-pas?

I'm going to miss home enormously -- this summer has shown me (reminded me) how comfortable I am here, with the people and the place and the countless opportunities it provides. and, funnily enough, I'm missing swat too. same reasons (though its opportunities are more purely of the social and mental variety). I wouldn't have predicted this: when people ask "do you love it there?" I tell them that "love" is too simple of a word, implying something unadulterated, fierce and deeply sincere which I can't bring myself to apply to my college experience thus far. but I really like it, I continue. I like it enormously and I like it in ways that surprise me, and I am comfortable there in a different way than I am here, but it is nonetheless a genuine feeling. the swarthmore version of me is a good one, and it's hard to believe that it won't be employed until january. until then, I'll probably keep getting all of these emails (getting off of lists may be a necessary step, but right now it seems too harsh), and keep in spotty touch with a few people, and be dazzled by the ability of life there to go on without me.
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