Archive for June, 2009

End of an era.

It’s not until you see halls the way they were when you first walked in that you realize just how much you’ve been through. Excuse the extensive overuse of second person in that sentence and try and think about it: when you go somewhere new, you have no idea of knowing what lies ahead. That’s the beauty of it – you can fail miserably (fall 2007, anyone?) or you can thrive (read: the last nine months of my life). It is a blank canvas, and you have no way to tell which way it’s going to go.

Seeing empty halls – and by empty, this transcends the empty of Christmas break or Easter break – is like walking straight back into September 2008. A mere nine months ago, yes, but it’s impossible for me to even begin to explain how much I’ve changed, how much I’ve learned, how many people I’ve come to love, and how much more sure I am about my life and what I want from it. When I walked into these halls nine months ago and saw them as I see them now, I had no way of knowing that though things could easily go well or go poorly, they would go incredibly, incalculably, amazingly well. And that regardless of that fact, when the fantastic people that made this year what it was slowly extricated their presence and possessions, these halls would go back to their simple purple-black-and-white state, ready to welcome the unknown for a fresh batch of students next fall.

Within the flat it’s easy to see that some of us are more emotional than others, and I find it an ironic twist that the biggest emotional tear-jerkers (myself and Laura Wells) will be the last to leave D5 behind. I know that next year will be amazing, but that doesn’t make letting go of this year any easier, and I know that when Laura and I have to lock up the doors to our empty rooms at 9.30 tomorrow morning, that fact is going to hit us hard. You can’t go back. You can’t relive what has already been amazing. Luckily, we have thousands of little reminders of all the great times we had this year, most of which will likely be blue-tacked to our walls in our new rooms next year. It’s part of the process: you have to take what you’ve experienced and build on it. Always make the wall collage grow.

As I write this, laying down in my depressingly sterile room, I’m getting the rare feeling that I’m rambling. I don’t have any good excuse, besides the fact that my brain is nearly liquid from so much procrastination, packing, and bittersweet excitement. I don’t even know what to really write about, except that no matter what happens in the future, I will always, always have this year to remember…and to be completely honest, that makes everything all right.

It’s the end of an era – bittersweet, if nothing else – and there’s nothing to do but to embrace it. I’m off to California for the next two months, leaving my friendships with these amazing Brits in the hands of Skype and Facebook to be nourished by the awesome time-zone-transcending wonder that is the internet. Round 1 of the transatlantic adventure has finally come to a close. It was, if you haven’t gathered, absolutely fantastic, and I extend endless thanks to any and all that have spent their time reading here. And because it wouldn’t be me without a bit of “I’m awesome!” self-promotion, I’ll encourage you to come back…because, well, while I can’t promise exactly when the next installment of Transatlantic Kathy will show up, I can promise one thing: it’s going to be fucking awesome.

Love you all, guys – and West Coasters…..ONE DAY.

Kathy xxx


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photo cred to myself and Maggie J. Moxie