Hi... how are you? You look great. Did you lose weight...? Oh, no, I actually have gained a few myself, that's okay... I...listen...
I am sorry.
I just didn't know what to say, so I figured it was better not to say anything. I know, I know I left you hanging... it just hasn't been the best few months. No, I know it's not your fault, but there's something about being completely and utterly broken down (emotionally and mentally) that leaves one with no desire to say much.
BUT HERE I AM, WRITING YOU AGAIN!
Sorry, interwebs, I have been horribly busy and the little time off I've had I've spent wrapped up in a blanket regretting my life decisions, so as you can see this blog was left unattended for very long! I'm even more sorry that I left all of you (the three of you, that is) hanging with my tales from the summer back in England.
The main problem right now is, of course, that I am a stupid idiot and did not write down anything as it was happening, so, my memory being the Teflon pan that it is, I hardly remember anything anymore! But I will try my best to relate to you the adventures of the Mexican Geordie during the month of June.
1. Ah yes, after the nightmarish night in the crappiest city in the world (Manchester), I woke up, packed my gigantic bags, and headed to the train station to meet MY FAVORITE PERSON OF ALL. I waited what seemed to be an eternity, walking back and forth from one platform to the next because I did not know which train she was coming from. Then, I saw her, in her cute big-polka-dots dress.
Don't get me wrong, they were happy tears! We were just both so overwhelmed by the pure joy of seeing each other again after almost a year (a tough year). It was wonderful and super dramatic, as you would expect from me. People stared a lot. Haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.
What is the first thing that two Catholic besties do? We went to mass, obvs.
It was quite a walk, though, and you know me... I'm a walking waterfall. So I was drenched and cold by the time we got to the church. But it was beautiful, and it made me realize how much I missed going to mass with my a good friend.
We rushed back to the station and got on our train to Durham. DURHAM. D-U-R-H-A-M.
2. I was feeling a combination of two things: sheer terror and utter elation. On the one hand, I kept having fears about things being different when I got there: if I was going to feel the same way, and what was it going to be like not having some of the most important people present anymore. On the other hand, my heart was racing at the thought of seeing my college, my cathedral, my chaplaincy, those streets I walked for a year, the shops I used to go into, the teashops I loved on a rainy day. Some of the people I loved so much. In short:
As we approached Durham, the cathedral and castle started peeking through the trees. I think my heart skipped a beat at that sight. The last time I had seen this place, my eyes were clouded with tears. I was home again.
3. Agenda of the first day in Durham:
1. Find food.
2. Ceilidh
3. Compline
A pretty accurate representation of my life in Durham, really. Of course, I couldn't go through a whole day without some kind of embarrassing/bizarre situation, so what better place than the Durham Student Union?
Ah, the DSU, with its lovely stench of humanity and its ability to conserve all the heat in the universe! We got to the ceilidh and waited for a chance to join in the merriment. By this point, Elena and I had already met up with the one and only Betty Jo, who I'm pretty sure is both Princess of Belgium and captain of the Belgian Football Team (yes, my friends are very accomplished).
Anyway, so we're all finally dancing and having a blast, and as I twirl and what not, it all goes down. LITERALLY. It happened so fast. Suddenly, someone had stepped on my skirt and I had continued moving away from that person, causing my skirt to fall down from my waist to my knee. YEP.
Thank God I'm still a tomboy and always wear shorts under skirts.
After the ceilidh, we went to my favorite place on earth: the Durham Catholic Chaplaincy. Being inside St. Cuthbert's once again brought things full circle. It felt like I had never left, sitting there in my pew, surrounded by friends. It was almost an out-of-the-body experience. I am not sure how long I stayed in the church after compline, but it felt like a very long, delightful time.
4. God knows there was a lot of crying while in Durham. It was therapeutic and very necessary, and to be honest it just felt great to be able to do it right there at the feet of the altar. With people I love. The silence that I had craved for was there. The peace was there. The joy of being around people one loves. Man, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I would have gone all the way back to Durham only for those moments alone. Forget graduation and forget seeing new places and exploring and being a world-class traveler. Those moments with two or three people that my heart has longed for in front of the tabernacle were the best moments in a very long time.
5. Anywaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, Cathsoc BBQ, where the air was hugged out of my lungs (in the best way), and then a few lovely days in Durham before going to the fairy tale land of England: THE LAKE DISTRICT!
My dear friend Paula accompanied me in this trip, and had to suffer through my road rage while I suffered through her road anxiety. In other words, we'll take a train next time.
Our destination was Coniston, a picturesque town in the heart of the District. I wish I could tell you that we did a lot of adventurous things, but really it was only two practically middle aged women vacationing for two days, so we mainly just walked a lot in the cold and rain. The funniest part of it all was the fact that people seemed surprised to see two women of color in their village, so we were asked "where are you from?" several times and when we replied "America", we got skeptical looks.
Anyway, we had great conversation, yummy food, and stunning views, so can't complain. The roads, though. I think I still have nightmares about them. So narrow, and people were still driving just as fast. Yeah... I'm never driving in England again.
6. Back in Durham for graduation week! Those were some fantastic days. Are you bored yet? 'Cause I'm not. I don't even remember most of the things that happened leading up to graduation, but I just remember being really happy. Tea, company, shopping. THE WORKS. I'm telling you, if this is the only way I can be truly happy.... then I better marry rich or win the lottery.
7. GRADUATION, A.K.A. the reason why I actually flew over there. It was a crazy ass day. Woke up before 7am for a shower, then took basically all of my belonging down to St. Cuthbert's to get ready over there after Lauds.
Agenda for June 23rd, 2015:
Shower
Lauds
Food
Get ready
Mass
Food
Graduate
Food
Drinks Reception
Food
To graduate in Durham Cathedral, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is something too beautiful to put into words. The university's chancellor said something in his speech that stayed with me, something that sounded like "you'll always be a part of Durham and Durham will always be a part of you". I think that was the only moment in the ceremony when I almost cried. Damn, Durham, I'm pretty sure I'll never get over you.
After having my heart ripped out of my chest, I got in a train north, headed to a new adventure.
9. I spent the next four days in Scotland, seeing the stunning mountains, numerous lochs (THERE ARE SO MANY), and being incredibly sick. Yes, as it was to be expected, I caught a bug, so I was coughing my lungs out during the whole tour and the tour guide suggested I had Ebola, which did not amuse some of our fellow Chinese tourists.
I still enjoyed myself, though: HAGGIS, SHORTBREAD, WOOL BLANKETS. I wish it would have been a more active tour, though, because I gained weight during it. Who can blame me? We were in a tour bus for 10 hours a day and we probably walked 2 miles a day, tops. I also developed a bit of a crush for our bus driver, who reminded me of a guy I used to like in college. So yeah, it was nice to look at his face in the rear view mirror.
So yeah, overall, a great Scottish experience. Except, of course, that you know who you're reading about and therefore are sure that something happened--the type of thing that would happen to me.
Well, yes. Someone stole my bank account information on my last day in Scotland. YOU READ THAT RIGHT. They stood close by while I withdrew forty quid from the ATM so they could see my pin number and then cloned my card. They took almost $900 bucks. The best part of the whole thing? I didn't notice at all until ONE MONTH LATER WHEN I WAS ALREADY BACK IN THE UNITED STATES. I swear... the universe just hates me, eh? Let's not go to that dark corner of my psyche...
Luckily, after a lot of crying, fanning of the face, and telling myself how much of an idiot I am, the bank finally believed me and gave me my money back. So it's all good in the hood. I've already spent it all, so don't worry... they won't be able to steal from me anymore...
10. After Scotland, I went back to Ireland for a couple days, for quite an uneventful stay in Limerick, also known as possibly the most boring city in Europe. The weather was very Irish, so we hardly had a chance to see anything in our one-day tour of The Ring of Kerry. I did, however, have excellent food and I stayed in the most amazing hotel with an awesome big bed that I totally deserved.
That was my almost-a-month holiday. Even with its low points, I wouldn't have traded it for anything. I can't wait to go back home next summer and to live with you, my dearest friends, more adventures.
