A Day at at Time

I've been back in Scotland for almost a month now. Not much has really changed. It took less than a day for me to fall back into my old routine: sleep until noon, spend my afternoons reading, and then at night walk up to Alangrange to watch movies or TV. It's a nice routine--I like structure and schedules and this one suits me very well. It was also incredibly nice to come back to a familiar place. I walked into my room to find my posters on the wall, my clothes in the closet, and my books on the self. It was like coming home after a very long day at work.

Only I've having a hard time of convincing myself that this place is my home. I live in a house with five strangers, the "living room" looks like a waiting room of a doctor's office, and I won't even get started on my kitchen. The only saving grace I have is my room. I am incredibly blessed to have gotten the biggest room in the house and my window overlooks a courtyard that will be beautiful once spring arrives. Even though my things are here, it is incredibly hard to feel comfortable in a place that doesn't have a heart. I also miss my dog--no one is ever really happy to see me when I walk in my door. This house just feels empty.

I don't want anyone to think that I don't love Scotland or that I'm ungrateful and not enjoying the experiences I'm having here. But living an ocean away from everything you've ever known is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I now know why they call it "homesick." It just washes over me and I feel this huge emptiness in my heart that sometimes makes me sick to my stomach. My intense desires to jump on the earliest flight back to Oklahoma probably stems from my living within 30 of my parents' house my entire life. And I've always been a huge homebody--I would rather stay in and read a book or watch a movie than go out.

All that I can do is take it a day at a time. My mantra for the next six months is that each day is a day closer to home. And tomorrow's the first day of March, so that's one month down. Besides, the bright side is much prettier to look at than the dark side.

It's a Long Time Until August

Today is my last full day in Oklahoma until the end of August. I'll admit I'm having mixed feelings about this. I've spent most of my life hating Oklahoma and longing to leave but in the month I've been back, this place has grown on me. And not just because as I'm writing this at after six and the sun is just now setting. There's an unassuming beauty about this place that takes you by surprise. I'm for sure not looking forward to leaving the comforts of home. I'll miss baking in my parents' kitchen, the convenience of my car, and of course my dog, Jake.

Nevertheless, I'm ready to be back in Scotland. The grass will be green, not mangy brown and there's a castle in the distance. I have wonderful friends I can't wait to see, there's no static electricity and my chronically dry skin won't be itchy and painful. Also I have not been in class since the end of November and I'm itching to get back to school. Even though it sometimes doesn't feel like I'm in a Master's program. I read a book, then go to class which is simply seven people sitting in a professor's office, drinking coffee and talking about the novel. It's more like an elite book club. I then write a couple of essays and a dissertation and just like that, I'll have a Master's of Letters in the Gothic Imagination. I'm making it sound too easy--I'm challenged and intellectually stimulated and am growing as an academic with every "meeting" of our "book club."

Tomorrow afternoon I'll get on the first of three planes and begin the second half of my life in Scotland. It's time to say goodbye to Oklahoma and hello to Scotland.