Jiggety Jig.

I'm baaaaaaack. For those not aware, I made a glorious trip home for the month of April (Easter break). Opted not to post about it so I could surprise a few people, which was marvelously successful. Home was filled with lovely things: Easter brunch with all the cousins, Maren's final recital, Mum's birthday, long trail runs in the woods, house and dog sitting for a week, sunshine, a surprise birthday party at the beach for the boyf, Seattle, Olympia, Vancouver, bagels, Mexican food, big fat thrift stores, card games with all 3 grandparents, consecutive hours with dear friends, and studying when necessary at old coffee shops around town. To say leaving was hard is an understatement. I thought it might get easier over time.. it doesn't. Especially when it's sunny in Bellingham and pouring rain in Sheffield; when I have nothing here to greet me but police sirens and piles and piles of work to finish by the end of the month. My life is so different there than here. And to everyone who said "Oh, your programme's only a year?! That'll FLY by!".. that's not actually true. And, and, and.

Instead of more whining, which I want to do, I've been trying to be mature about this, which I don't want to do. I think that after years of traveling all over and coming back to Bellingham thinking "well, I guess this place is alright", I finally get it. I finally see that Bellingham is a ridiculously wonderful place. I get it why people like my parents move halfway across the country to live there, or why people stick around years after finishing at WWU. It's not just filled with people I love, it has seas to swim in, lakes to kayak around, mountains to climb up and down, trails to run on, or you can just sit and LOOK at it, because it's beautiful (see above). Maybe it took living in Sheffield to figure that out. The irony of this is that in 4 months, I'll finally have a Masters degree that puts me anywhere on the globe... and I really miss Bellingham. I still want to go work in the Congo and Sudan, but I could also be pretty happy with a job that lets me work at home or close to it most of the time.

The other thing I've noticed in my pursuit of maturity is that for every bad, there's usually a good. Cases in point:
1. Bad: I had to leave on Saturday. Good: SeaTac airport was completely dead when Ben and I got to there. Check-in took 2 minutes and we got to spend almost an hour playing Dutch Blitz in the waiting area.
2. Bad: My plane had to circle Heathrow 5 times before landing because of rain, fog, and wind. When we finally did land it kind of sounded like the plane cracked in half. Good: When everyone opened their eyes and pried their white knuckles off the seat in front of them, we realized we were all still alive and in one piece. It never ceases to amaze me that millions people routinely FLY, in an enormous contraption miles in the AIR, hours and HOURS across land and sea, and reach their destinations [relatively] unscathed.
3. Bad: Realized halfway through the flight that I forgot my toothbrush at home. Good: In all my travels I've never flown an airline that offered free toothbrushes and toothpaste. But guess who does? British Airways' Seattle to London flight.
4. Bad: I had a group meeting at 7am this morning, a group presentation at 10am, and class until 3pm. With 2 hours of sleep. Good: I'm alive. The rest of the week looks more manageable with slightly more sleep in the cards.

Miss you all.