Hello! It's my last week in England, and work on my long essay has commenced. I will be buried in the library for two days, then writing for hours on Wednesday, and then I will be done! I have very mixed feelings about this. Here's something I wrote in my journal a couple weeks ago when my mom and her friend were visiting:
I'm on my way to Dover with Mom and Donna. Being with newly arrived Americans really highlights how much I've taken to heart the English culture. Driving past the green fields and rolling hills makes me long to just finda cottage somewhere and stay there, taking pictures and reading. Most people assume that I'm in love with Oxford, and I am really fond of the town, but not really the university. I much prefer the Headington (a small town east of Oxford) part of things, the getting to know people and actually living (rather than researching). I said on the flight over that on this trip I was looking for an old friend I've only met in stories before. I've found my friend, but not where I expected. Instead of in the libraries, England is in the fields and the trees, in the perpetually green grass instead of the crumbling buildings, and instead of a highbrow academic life, the slowness and sweetness of developing friendships.
Anyways, that's how I'm feeling right about now. I am looking forward to spending possibly my last summer at home and seeing my friends again. But I am dreading leaving this beautiful country.