Twenty-Eight Days - Speed Up Time, Please!

Less than a month now. The anticipation is heavy - all I can think about is England, my new University, the journey there, my new dorm, my classes... Basically, if it doesn't have to do with studying abroad, it's not in my thoughts. I go to sleep every night wondering what it's going to be like. Where will I buy my bedding? Who will my roommates be? Will my teachers be amazing? What if my luggage gets lost? Will the weather shock me?

I've been poring over the students in the Facebook group for my residence hall. Students from UEA, London, Manchester, UC Davis, Australia, Vietnam, Norway... In a way, I'm extremely excited to live in a dorm again. Though living on my own was always more freeing, living in a dorm is a really special sort of experience. I was never lonely - my roommate and I got along famously and if she wasn't around, there was always another friend to talk to down the hall.
I remember my first week, sitting down in the lounge in a big circle. Someone had the idea to introduce ourselves to one another using the blues. So, someone else pulled out a guitar and began playing a blues riff, as we all told our tales through song. No one was very good at it (I think mine went - I'm Rose and I work at Starbucks/Just tryin' to make a dollar/I live on 4-Mo with Carrie/So come and give us a holler), but it was so much fun.
Of course, I don't expect my time in my dorm (Orwell Close, it's called) to mimic what I had at Manzi-Mo (the Arts dorm) at U of A. Arts majors are a special breed and we're very, very odd ducks, and so living with large groups of us results in strange pastimes. Photo shoots on the smoking patio, over-dramatic screaming and faked deaths while playing murder mysteries, dancing to musicals in the lounge... Compared to that, Orwell Close will be so normal.

Well, I hope not!