Jonesing for London

I've got it bad. That feeling of hopeful longing that soon turns into a pang in my stomach, because I don't know how long it will be until I get back there. London, that is. Just a year ago, my room was cluttered with lists, piles of clothes, and vacuum storage bags in preparation for my semester abroad. I was also in the beginning stages of creating this here blog so that I could keep in touch with everyone back in the States. Even though I've been back for eight months, there are just times when I can't help but wish I still lived there.

A photo from my seats in Emirates Stadium

Yesterday was one of those days. For a fun family activity, we all decided to go see Harry Potter since my brother and my parents hadn't seen it. In one scene, Harry, Ron, and Hermione apparate to Shaftesbury Avenue. This was the trigger. I walked along Shaftesbury Ave. every single day to get to class, and just seeing it briefly in the movie made me long for some Café Nero. Then we went home, and lo and behold, Arsenal was playing Chelsea at Emirates Stadium. They showed a bird's eye view of the stadium and the surrounding area, and my brother paused the shot to try and figure out where the tube stop was and where we walked to get into the stadium when we saw them play in April. Tugging at my heart strings. Then, when I thought my longing was about to subside, we decided to go to the Pub for dinner. While it certainly doesn't have the character of the Exmouth Arms with the jukebox and blue icicle lights in the window, they do have Guinness on tap, and two of those sent me into a serious downward spiral of angst, desiring nothing more than a trip to Waitrose and some Chutney Raj. This morning, my mom came home from the grocery store, and she bought Nutella. Now this doesn't necessarily seem like a huge event, but Mom has never bought Nutella before, and the only time I have ever had Nutella was in London. On toast, with apples, or just out of the jar on a spoon, that stuff is delicious. The taste of it jogged memories of slathering the delicious spread on HobNobs that were mistakenly bought without the chocolate. To top it all off, walking downtown to the Caps game tonight, I see that they're putting in a Wagamama right by the Verizon Center, a sweet Indian fusion restaurant I went to soon after I arrived in London.

Don't get me wrong, I love being home. But the moments I realize that I'll never have the experience of studying abroad again definitely make me sad. Sure, I can go back and visit for a week, but it will never be the same as living in the center of the city, seeing shows on a weekly basis, going out to a new pub every night, and then rolling into bed with taxis whizzing down Farringdon Road outside my window, lulling me to sleep. The only thing to do now is see if anyone is hiring in London. Maybe I could get Hal's job as the administrative assistant at the ND London Center. Goes to show you how liberal ND gets across the pond. If that doesn't work out, if anyone's got a job opening in England give me a shout. I'm in a very vulnerable position right now, desperately wanting both a job and an excuse to go back to London.