Schizophrenia, or what happens when your friends visit you in London
Since I’ve been in London I’ve had a few friends visit me, either because they’re visiting from somewhere on the continent or just taking a pit-stop on their way to somewhere infinitely more exciting (India, Uganda). To say the least, having them around was awesome, refreshing, a nice reminder of home. Plus, after living in London for so long, you tend forget about the things that charmed you in the first place. So when new peeps come into town you get to re-experience all the goodies overlooked as of late.
Although, having never seen these people outside the United States, I get a weird shock upon their arrival. A good shock, a fantastic shock, but a weird one nonetheless. My brain struggles as it toggles between Northwestern-me and London-me. Trust me, those “me’s” are very different. And when my friends ship off, it takes me a few days to get back to staying London-me. It’s in those days that I can really see the difference between the two Ani’s. Some examples:
Reading Week (yeah, bitches)
Back on campus (and during the day) you’ll find me at Norbucks. A lot. Maybe I’ll switch it up and go to Kafein or (on a really, really bad day) the library. In stark contrast, however, I spend the days and nights of my London reading weeks not in a coffee shop or library, hell not even a pub or bar! Nope, I spend them in places like Italy, or in the case of this term, Prague, Berlin and Amsterdam (note: this will be my second trip to Amsterdam in three months…for the Van Gogh museum, duh?). Needless to say, the only thing I’ll probably be reading is Sky Mall. What can I say? It’s gonna be a pretty fantastic reading week, again.