I haven’t been on an international flight in a couple years, not since 2008, I don’t think. One thing that had forgotten about that I love is the fact that they have new movies available for you to enjoy, allowing you to forget that you have an 11-hour flight ahead of you. And it’s pretty sweet because on this airline, everyone has their own individual screens in front of them, on the back of the seats (I guess the fact that I haven’t flown in awhile is evident upon reading that last statement).
There’s only about four and a half hours left until we arrive in London. The past six-ish hours have kind of flown by. So far I’ve watched Bridesmaids (I WAS SO EXCITED TO SEE THIS ON THE LIST) and Love and Other Drugs.
Bridesmaids definitely lived up to the hype—I found myself holding back the urge to laugh out loud (my mom gets really upset when I laugh out loud because apparently I’m too loud and it seriously embarrasses her). Also, it was a little bit awkward because the girl I am sitting next to (really sweet girl from LA who is traveling to Madrid to be a primary school teacher’s assistant) decided she wanted to watch Bridesmaids as well, about five minutes after I decided I did. She hadn’t seen it either, we’d discussed, so I wanted to be careful not to laugh too loudly at the funny parts so as not to ruin it literally a couple minutes before she was about to watch the same scene.
All I could think of during all of Love and Other Drugs is how the HELL Taylor Swift landed Jake Gyllenhaal. Seriously. Seriously?! And how incredibly versatile Anne Hathaway is. And how cute this movie is. And how awkward it is to watch this in an airplane with all the sex scenes just all up on my screen (HI MOM).
During all this, I forgot about all the thoughts that I’d had in the airport upon leaving. The thoughts that made me cry (like I told myself I WOULDN’T) in the arms of my boyfriend, and then even more in the arms of my Daddy. (Your welcome, wet shirts for the both of you.)
For the past weeks—no, months—leading up to this day, I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t excited. I wasn’t nervous. I really didn’t feel like I was leaving. In a way, the reality of the situation still hasn’t really even hit me. I kind of just feel like my mom and I are going on vacation for a bit together.
She is coming with me for about a week to get me settled and move me in. I must be honest, at first I wasn’t thrilled. This was supposed to be my experience, the discovery of my independence. I was supposed to go all alone, figure it out on my own. I was supposed to get lost, have a couple mental breakdowns here and there. I was supposed to do it all on my own for the first time. I didn’t want my mommy there holding my hand like she has my entire life.
But things will run smoother with her here, and we’ll have a lot of fun, I know we will. And then there’s the fact that I pretty much had no choice; She was mad at me for not wanting her to come, and told everyone in my family but me. My dad pulled me aside one day and said, “Will you PLEASE ask your mom to go with you to Malta?”
So here we are on the plane. It’s dark, everyone’s asleep. It’s 10:17 p.m. at home. Now that I’m done watching the movies, I’ve turned off my screen to write. There’s still some great movies left to select, though. I’ve always wanted to see “The King’s Speech,” I love Colin Firth. But two movies in a row is enough for me.
Now my thoughts are returning back to home. Back to the ones I miss. The ones who miss me, the ones who cried while I cried during the goodbyes. I should have guessed I’d be emotional today. That’s who I am, I’m just emotional when it comes to everything. I was so proud of myself for these past couple weeks, even these past couple days leading up, for not really being sad. It’s just ten months, I’d tell myself. Why is everyone freaking out about it? To be honest, I was surprised I wasn’t freaking out more. I guess I was saving it all for the airport. I cried like a baby at the airport. Whatever.
On the way to the airport, Ron told me he knew I was going to be so grown up by the end of this. Not by looks, he said, but just by demeanor, mindset, etc. Obviously he’s right, ten months abroad is bound to change anyone. I’m just wondering how. I wonder if I’ll notice it in myself.
I wonder if Tash is asleep yet, probably not. Even though she needs to get up early in the morning for volleyball, I’m sure. This new haircut is a trip. As if I already didn’t think about her enough, every time I look in the mirror I see her, I think of her.
Michele probably already let Guinness to bed, she has work early. Ever since she’s gotten her “big girl” job it’s like I never see her. She wakes up before me and goes to bed before I’d even come home sometimes. I wonder if Juno is wondering where I am. I hope she remembers me when I come back.
Ron is probably studying, and thinking of me. He probably misses me already. And he knows (he should) that all these feelings are mutual. I don’t really want to listen to my iPod right now for fear that I’ll miss him too much (every single song will remind me of him somehow). I need to not cry anymore today.
Daddy’s probably watching Premiere League, or in his office checking emails. He’s probably chuckled to himself at least a couple times since I’ve left, thinking, “That Vie Baby is something else.” And over the fact that he just can’t ever help but worry about me. After my serious crying, freak out-meltdown yesterday (I thought I’d lost my wallet, which contained my ID and credit/debit cards and found out it wasn’t lost about an hour later) he hugged me tight, and laughed out loud for a good ten minutes.
I guess when someone drives you crazy and stresses you out to this degree, but at same time, is someone you love so deeply and whole-heartedly with all of your being and soul, in situations such as these, all you can do is laugh.
There’s only three hours and fourty minutes left until London. I should probably try to sleep.
I hope that when this whole thing hits me, I don’t get overwhelmed by my homesickness. I’m a very sheltered girl who has had people around her entire life to figure things out for her. And that’s not something I like to admit. This is going to be a transition, for sure.
I hope that I become less forgetful. I hope that I am more punctual. I hope that I am a little more responsible. I hope I’m a little less self-centered. I think I’ve realized lately that I am self-centered. Or maybe that’s me being too hard on myself again.
“You are your own problem, and you are your own solution.” Thank you, Bridesmaids.