Monday, 23 April 2012

America Week

It was me and four Americans for a good chunk of the week.
We found ourselves leaving directly after eating when we went to get bagles and ice cream on Tuesday Afternoon, and I had to stop the girls putting up an American Flag in the living room, for fear there would be an American revolt. For the rest of the week, it was mundane activities like Lap Tops and The Facebook. I struggled to sleep with no one else in my room, and realised its hard to live on your own after living with other people for so long. 

Disclaimer: For all the details of the week-see the Weekly Report.

This is just the interesting stuff that I can't tell Rabbis and parents:

She stayed at The Institution that night, against her better judgement, but too tired to leave. There were no buses anyway. She wanted to run, to jump, to play, long having missed the smell of grass freshly coated in dew and the open spaces to do handstands without fear of hard concrete ground. One of the only upsides to The Institution being the wide expanse of grass and the Room of Zen so different from her lonely bedroom in the Flat. She sat under the table in his room, watching an average show about hipsters that turned out to be rather funny and breathing in the dull smell of deodorant that hung on the air and the laundry strewn across the floor. His hands were warm running down her back, forming circles, swirling in and out of her hair. They were close. It was comforting, but not over whelming. It was silly, all too silly for words. They fell asleep, noses touching to the sounds of the other six people, all breathing at different intervals, on stolen mattresses on the floor. 

She woke early the next morning, slightly sleepy, but determined. She contemplated for a minute waking up her friend, deciding there was no other way and then making her way through the silent corridors to the other room. She dressed in the dark, as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake up the sleeping bundles that lay, still curled in their slumber. At such and early hour, the roads were still silent. Birds chirped their approval above her head, but she was distracted. 
2 bus rides and a tram ride later, she was volunteering with her flat mates at a School for Kids Who Cant Read Good and Want to Learn to Do Other Stuff Good Too. To top it all off, she had showered and made tea with time to spare.

She spent the afternoon curled up in a blanket watching British TV Shows and spiralling down rabbit holes trough tangled dreams of a wonderland.