Chatting Up and A Life Left Behind

Today I spent the morning at Newington Day Centre, a centre where old people come to hang out, have tea, and give their carers a break a few days a week. This morning I visited with the members and got to know my way around. I must have told one lady that I was going to be here for a year 10 times. She told me just as many times that she was originally from Scotland. Needless to say there is a great deal of patience I must find somewhere to use during these mornings. (I always joke that I save up all my patience during the year for my summers at camp... At this point in the year, the stock is low!) The man who told me on my first visit last week that I couldn't tell him about my love life because it would break his heart was there this morning and I had a good time talking with him. I can't remember his name, as there were many thrown at me this morning. However, he is hysterical! He asked everyone if they had grandchildren or friends who were in their 20s, trying to find me a man. He told me that when I do find a man he is going to put a banner across the street outside the centre announcing it to the community. He is a trip.

I had a guy try to 'chat me up' as I waited to cross the street this morning. I lied and said that I didn't know my mobile number when he asked for it (which is only partially a lie because I only know part of it and I could have looked it up.) Shockingly, he didn't even comment on me being American. He asked what I was doing tonight and the first thing that came to my mind was working. Although I would have preferred to give a lame excuse of washing my hair in hopes that he would get the memo that I was not interested, I wasn't as witty as that. My friend at Newington told me I should have flipped him off, using the American version rather than the Irish version (a peace sign) to demonstrate. I am not opposed to having friends, actually, I'd rather love some friends, and had the guy been under the age of 30 I might have said I would meet him somewhere, taking the roomies of course. However, sketchy 40 year old men who chat up girls crossing streets don't really appeal to my friend base.

The past couple of days have been typical- blustery, lots of time at home alone, time at the office. I have been thinking a lot about home, not homesick persay, and by home, I mainly mean the past. I am beginning to realize that I am not in college anymore, and I never will be again. Ever since the placement weekend the final weekend of April, I have been able to think of nothing but getting to Belfast. Graduation weekend emotions were kept in check as I planned for this year. Even leaving Boone, saying goodbye to friends, and locking my apartment for the last time went unexpectedly smooth.

I had the excitement of this year to carry me through and keep me from really understanding the reality of graduating. Now that I am here, fairly settled, and often have time alone to sit with my thoughts, I am realizing just how awkward this time in my life really is. I have not been out of a classroom this long since I was 5. All I have really known day in and day out for the past 17 years is school, both the social and educational settings. There is a big change, going from being a student to being in the real world, one that regardless of where I lived now, I would have to deal with. Sometimes I wonder why I chose to deal with this change in the midst of even more change in Belfast.

There is a part of me that envies the YAVs who are older, even if we make fun of them and call them old man and grandma. They were settled in the real world, they knew what it was like to have a job, not attend classes, and make friends outside of the inevitable social setting that school provides. They have already successfully made it through this transition. In the same way however, they left established lives to come here. While I have no idea where I would be if I weren't here, they do. They know what they gave up. My life is at an inevitable time of change, they welcomed a time of change. I suppose sometimes, when you take the pessimistic view, its lose-lose.

Now, let me say that I know in truth this experience is win-win. There is no where else I would rather be. But that doesn't make the reality of no more tailgating surrounded by peers, no more surprise McDonald's ice creams brought to the library on late nights of thesis writing, and no more 389 H hobo pie Sunday night TV dates any easier. Have no fear, I am establishing new traditions, like stove top popcorn every evening when Lauren gets home, The Duke of York on Friday nights and a stop at our chippy, and Sunday night skype calls to mom and dad. I guess it will just take some time. And of course, a period of mourning, mourning the loss of the college lifestyle that I adored. They say that college is the best four years of your life; I pray that there are better years and years of equal value ahead of me, beginning with this one.