But where is the Well?

I’m currently sitting in the kitchen of my building, while two “bros” cook bacon and potatoes.

I’m mostly in here because my room is sad when my roommates aren’t there. Also because there’s a James Bond movie on, and I spent the last 2 hours walking around Camden. Did anyone else know it was going to be 85 degrees in London? Because I sure as shit didn’t and now I’m dehydrated all the time.

But, I do have a snazzy new pair of shoes to show for it, and a bag with vintage marvel characters, and two dresses for my cousins wedding and the breakfast the day after, and a rain coat, and an ugly shirt for my dad, and a cool skull shirt.

So, I did a lot of shopping on my first weekend in London. It is a world class fashion capital. And the Camden Lock market is SO much better than the French Champiognes market.

I feel a bit like an ass, comparing them, “oh yeah, France, psh.”

It’s actually really interesting being in London after just having been in Europe for 3 months. I know a lot of the things they’re telling us, about not getting mugged/pickpocketed, about the club scene, about night buses, (though these ones actually exist unlike the ones in Amsterdam.)

It’s bizarre, and I almost feel bad talking about my experiences with the other kids here. Most of them have been to Europe before, and have some idea of what they’re doing, but not to the degree that I have.

I just got so comfortable with pounding the pavement of a city I didn’t know. It’s second nature to me to get on the tube and know exactly how to get somewhere within a few minutes.

It also helps that I traveled in and out of Boston a lot as a kid. But man, is this weird to me.

Most people are frightened by the tube, or some of the things they’re telling us. I also never realized how different Emerson was from almost all other colleges. I mean, in theory I knew it was different, obviously all colleges are different. 

BUT MAN! Emerson is it’s own bizarre world. We don’t have economics majors, hell, we have one econ class. We don’t have financial business majors, what does that even mean?! Who wants to do finance for a living!? Why would someone want to do math forever?!?!

Everyone at Emerson makes a point of being outgoing and talking to people, and being loud, obnoxious, and flamboyant. Unless you’re one of the few people who is quite and reserved, or socially awkward. Then you sit in a corner and try not to have a panic attack.

Everyone likes weird things, and LOVES everything from the BBC or British TV. And clubbing, don’t even talk to me about that. There is a weird new level of Emerson clubbing. We invade places, there is always yelling and screaming, and someone is making out with random Europeans for no reason other than, they can.

It’s a very different atmosphere here. Everyone is more, AMERICAN. Which is a weird thing to say but I feel like all these people could be on Smallville, without the super powers though.

It’s not better, but it’s not worse. It’s…different.

I miss my Emerson Castle Dwellers. I miss being able to go to one place, and have everyone be there and yell, and scream, and…do things…down by the river behind the Linden.

We can’t do that here. I can’t just go somewhere, or even post in a group. There isn’t a facebook group. I have no way to let people know that, I’m going to this concert, or I want to check out this new club.

I never realized how useful that facebook group was until there wasn’t one.

It’s culture shock. But it’s not from being in a different country, it’s from being at a different college. I’m at the stage where I’m just missing everyone!

And the guys in the kitchen are now sharing their stories, about “pissing in the middle of the street.”

Our castle stories, wow. We have the weirdest stories. Devon and Talia on the night bus in London. Ruby, Yuliya, Thea, Alyssa, and Emily at a dubstep club in Berlin. Lucy, Candace, and Domenica’s adventures in Barcelona.

And of course, my infamous head smash in Paris.

Nothing we did was normal. And I completely took that for granted. If only I could have one castle dweller here with me.

But alas, I can’t. So I’ll make the best of this. I can spend time alone, which is something I sorely missed. I can go out on long, ridiculous walks. And once I meet with my internship director, I can ask if someone, anyone will show me around.

I’m not the best at striking up random conversations. I need a wingman.