The night before the morning after the day that never was and might still be if we all cross our fingers and squint to the horizon. The nerves are setting in, can you tell?
It's bizarre. I'm not nervous about going, getting or being - I'm more nervous about what I'm leaving behind. The last year has been very good and everything seems to be coming to a neat conclusion, in a sense. Ignore the grim sense of finality in that last sentence, I haven't been chipping my way through a list of things to do before the inevitable happens. What I mean is, last summer I made plan of what I was going to do for the next year - I joined an art course and I signed up for a nameless agency which sends people to America to work in Summer Camps. A little history: it's something I've meant to do for yonks but have never got around to (I say that, what I really mean is this is the time I haven't chickened out - and what's great about that is I haven't wanted to chicken out).
The course I've been doing since last September officially ended today and I'm really gutted that all the people I've met and got to know for the past howevermany months are all going off to uni. I spent a great day today staving off the inevitable goodbyes talking about nonsense and hanging around in shops and cafes. Wonderful. I've been very lucky with my groups of friends over the years, all of them have been diverse, intelligent people with interesting and funny personalities. Bizarrely, they've all been really good-looking as well but I'm 70% certain that's coincidental. Since Christmas though, I've been working day-in and day-out with very talented people who have fed my imagination and thirst for what I love doing. People have always told me art is my calling but these people made me believe it. I don't care how naff and cheesy that sounds.
Not only has my brain been well looked after but everyone around seems to have settled into a nice swing. It feels really weird to be leaving at a time when things are just settling down nicely. However, there's a lot of cobwebs that need blowing out of my head, so, you know, swings and roundabouts.
With regards to packing, which I freely admit I'm procrastinating from (?), I've got some fairly strange suggestions. The most re-assuring one so far has been from someone who has already been at camp for a bit. Flip-flops were something I hadn't considered, but which I'm told are essential (for showering etc.). I'm not entirely sure I feel comfortable with the idea of being naked except for flip-flops, shower or nay. Ah well, better that than verrucas and the like. On the subject of sunglasses, (for, of all things, "glare off the lake"), I was disappointed to find out this morning that my prescription sunglasses won't be ready until tomorrow. Guess what I'm doing tomorrow kids? Flying. That's right. I said a very rude swear word at the top of my voice, luckily it was voicemail and not a real person breaking the bad news. My oh my was I tee-d off. Despite what they say, you're better off NOT going to Specsavers.
The overall gist seems to be "pack light and practical", but what's practical when you aren't entirely sure what you're going to be doing? I wonder whether I'll really need running shorts? Would it, in fact, be easier to buy them out there if and when I need them? I think that question just answered itself really.
So. For the morbidly curious, the following couple of days looks like this: up at 7 tomorrow to drive to Heathrow, arrive at around mid day and meet up with agency chappy. Mooch around until four when the plane goes, fly to America which may take anything from six to a million hours. When arrived meet up with more agency peeps who will then drive me/us to a university staging area. I imagine at this point, feeling bewildered and a little overwhelmed, I'll try and eat something before catching an early night. The following day will be split between a morning orientation session and an afternoon of more travelling, the details of which have yet to be revealed. Ultimately, I imagine, I'll arrive at camp after another internal flight and more car journey-age. Take a moment to consider that the post that follows this one will be after a lot of travelling. It's funny how time and space get reduced by writing.
1 comment:
The reason your intelligent mates are also good-looking is pure economics. When looking for partners, we ideally want attractive and/or intelligent people. This means that the intelligent and the attractive get the first choice of partners, and they'll generally choose each other. This means that, down the line, their kids will inherit their parents' intelligence and good looks, to the extent that most offspring who possess one of these qualities will possess both.
Good luck with all the travel! Let's hope you're not too jetlagged in camp.
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