Great ADDitudes

I'm a senior in college.

Wow. I can't believe how easy that was to type. Before the summer started, I was petrified to be a senior in college. One more year before the "real world", but also one more year to succeed. One more year to push myself and get some results to bring to graduate school. I am planning on going to grad school, but not before I make my mark at Gettysburg College. Not before I do something I've wanted to do since I was in 6th grade. 

I have a learning disability. It's taken me a long time to be able to say that because of fear. Fear of being made fun off, laughed at, people being skeptical and saying that I'm either overreacting, I'm just plain lazy or stupid. I have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Yup, the one that everyone makes jokes about. "Aw man, I totally have ADD." Or the one that makes doctors worry about giving medication to college students who need it to keep track of their academics because these medications are some of the highest abused substances on college campuses. It's a constant battle with myself to stay on my game but also a constant struggle against a society that either overcapitalizes ADHD or doesn't truly understand it. However, having a learning disability in an academic setting makes studying, doing homework, doing research, even reading a simple book difficult. It has taken me three years at Gettysburg College to realize that hey, it's okay to struggle. Understanding and working with my struggles is the way to succeed, not pushing them out and fighting the fuzz. I've been so successful since I've switched my mentality over from ignoring it to working it, so why can't I share this with the world? With the College?

When I was just diagnosed, I felt very alone. I was the only one I knew that got to have special 'candies' that helped keep my mouth from being dry when I first started medication. I was the only one who couldn't keep my desk straight, who always had a notebook and pencil just in case a story idea popped into my head. But was I actually alone? Was there anyone else struggling like I was?

I asked the school counselor if we could start a ADHD support group. I was only 11 or 12, so the idea just kept coming back over and over. I wanted to start a support group somewhere. But just as my blog post "Scatterbrained" (http://emmalinerose1863.blogspot.com/2013/11/scatterbrain.html) says, I let my ADHD go and handled it as best I could. When I got to college, everything changed. I felt alone again. Overwhelmed by classwork, homework, even socializing! I couldn't handle it all until I decided to go back on medication. It completely changed my life. But freshman year turned into sophomore and junior year where my symptoms began to come back and I felt lost. I couldn't handle everything. Instead of changing, I froze. But was anyone else feeling like this? Was there anyone else that struggled like me? Why couldn't we all come together?

This is when my support group called "Great ADDitudes" popped into my head. I had recently followed and signed up for ADDitudes at http://www.additudemag.com while I was in England to try to get my life back under control. I was amazed at how the little things, some occasional changes impacted my life. I was better organized. I got my work done. I even felt included.

 I wasn't the only one.

Going to a private liberal arts college is hard, especially one that advertises as a "highly selective" one. The pressure is high, the workload can feel overwhelming, but guess what? You're not alone! Students with learning disabilities need to know that they are not alone. There are others who are feeling the same way. And why not bring them all together? Why not share our stories? Discuss differences and possible solutions together. How cool would that be?

So I've already started the process of "Great ADDitudes", a student group at Gettysburg College for students with ADHD and other learning disabilities open for support, discussions on symptoms and treatment ideas but more importantly, a place for students who struggle every day to come together to feel welcome and supported. No one should feel embarrassed or ashamed of having a learning disability. They should feel welcomed and supported.

Any Gettysburg College student that happens to read this, come support your fellow students. Learn about what it's like fighting "the fuzz". Let these fellow classmates know that they're not pushed aside, forgotten or even disregarded by others. 

 We're all Gettysburg Great, even with something ADDed

Too Much

It has been an interesting summer. My last blog post brought me home from England, so I guess it is fitting that this one will probably bring me home from my internship with the National Park Service. Being my third internship, I can honestly say it has been tough. I’ve pushed myself harder than any other summer to work hard and research extensively, but I’ve also tried to form myself into a future park employee. Anyone who knows me knows how much I want to work for the NPS, but I find myself perplexed about a problem I’ve had since I started three summers ago.

I’m too excited, too enthusiastic and I need to rein it back.

I can honestly say I am a very happy person. I smile a lot, even when I’m struggling. I find time to laugh even when I really, really don’t feel like laughing. But with a giggle and a rumble inside my chest, it loosens the grip of negativity that sometimes seems too tight. When I get really excited, I know I talk a mile a minute. I sometimes get loud, I’m constantly smiling and at some points, I want to jump up and down. I literally have to keep my feet on the floor.

A perfect example of this would be my overwhelming excitement at the National Museum of American History. I was enamored with the methods of interpretation, presentation of facts and the way they worded everything so carefully. When Bobby and I finally went into the “America in War” exhibit, I could barely hold still. The stump from the battle of Spotsylvania Court House at the Bloody Angle was on display somewhere in the Civil War section and I couldn’t wait to see it. As we continued through each era, I could tell I was getting on Bobby’s nerves. Space grew between us; he’d walk away from me as I blabbered on about something I found interesting or exciting (which, in all honesty, was almost everything). I kept wondering why everyone around me was just walking through with blank expressions. No emotion or reaction. Yet here I am, almost bouncing off the wall in exhilaration! I finally asked Bobby why he was annoyed and his answer made sense. “I’ve never known someone to be so excited about everything and anything. It’s just a little overwhelming sometimes, that’s all.”

 What is wrong with me? Why am I overwhelming?

As I look back at my life to try and find the moment I had my switch, I remember the agonizing years I spent hating my life. Many people don’t know that I suffered from horrible TMJ/jaw pain for almost 6 years. When I was 15 years old, I used to sit and cry in the back of my church alone, praying to God to take the pain away. The muscles would rip, inflame until my vision was blurred. I couldn’t eat anything that required me to chew unless I risked the grinding of bone that sliced into my cheek bones and down my neck. I would slowly open my eyes in the morning for school and in those few moments before my body stirred awake, the pain would be silent. My head felt disconnected from my body and I fought the urge to smile. But in fighting that urge, a muscle would twitch and begin to spasm, causing the whole process over again. I missed day after day of school. I lost weight. My eyes plunged into deep purple circles as I tried every day to cover them up with makeup. But no amount of makeup could cover the agony I endured. It became so bad that I frequently imagined what it would be like if I tore my jaw off from the hinges. The soft flesh right under the curve of the jaw bone could easily be hooked, right? I could just take my thumbs, curl them around my mandible and tear it off. Men returning from the Civil War, WWI and WWII lived without the lower jaw, so why couldn’t I? I could live again if it was gone. My personal hellhounds couldn’t gnaw at my bone once it was gone. I could throw it for them to catch. They could drag it back to hell while I began my life again. I didn’t need to speak, I just needed to be pain free.

December 9^th, 2009 will be a day I remember forever. 

I was given a second chance at life. I could still be living in this pain, begging God to take it away or take me away. There were times where death seemed better than living like this, but I felt the need to find an answer. Make it to the days where the pain would be gone and I could live again. And today, yesterday, tomorrow, are all those days.I was finally released, let go from the moment I awoke from the surgery. It was gone, no more pain, no more suffering. Even through the recovery and the taunting laughs at my garbled speech, I was pain free. I didn’t care how much they laughed. All I cared about was being pain free. Those years of wanting and praying and begging for it to be all over changed me.

I am excited to live because I know what it feels like to want to die.  I understand the feeling of wanting to rip your hair out because there is no answer. Yet every day has its own blessing. The days where my medication worked and I could sleep with my face completely relaxed, the muscles loose from the relaxer. The days where milkshakes tasted so good, even with the triple dose of protein powder in it. How good it felt to have a full stomach after watching everyone around you bite into their lunches, their cookies and chips. How beautiful it is to hear a visitor play taps in the National Cemetery as everyone around you stops to listen. How a moving statement sparks a child’s interest. There are so many little blessings, little miracles every day that I am so happy to experiencing. I am excited to live, to breathe, to taste, to smile, to laugh and to talk about what I love. Many people say I talk too much, and sometimes I do. But just know that when I talk too much to you, that means I want to enjoy my blessing of being able to share my passion with you pain free, without the fear of having my face tear to shreds within a few moments after our conversation. I’m taking advantage of my life, my pain free, beautiful life. Every life is beautiful, so why not enjoy it?

Some say I’m too overwhelming, too excited, too much. But when is one life time enough? I am going to enjoy everything to the fullest and encourage others to do so.. I may be super energetic and super enthusiastic, but I’ll take it over who I was before. I may have to learn to transfer this excitement into other channels, but I will never lose it. It’s a part of who I am and who I want to be. Living positively brings so much joy and who doesn’t want joy in their life?

~E

Week 12: I'm Coming Home

I can't even believe I'm sitting here writing this. It's impossible, right? Of course it is. I couldn't have possibly spent my entire semester in England this quickly. I still have a few weeks, maybe even a month, right? RIGHT?

Nope. A week from tomorrow, I'll be jumping on a train to Heathrow Airport in London, getting on a plane to return to the United States-- home.

I've struggled with this definition of home, something I've addressed in my Writing from the Self class this semester. When I moved from my childhood home two years ago, I wasn't actually there. I had a rare and very honorable internship that usually didn't go to Freshman. Welp, it went to me and I needed to make a choice between starting that internship on time and go through the required training OR move with the rest of my family. I chose my internship, which at the time was a very, VERY good thing. I needed the training for the short run. But for the long run, I really needed to be home with my family, saying goodbye to my past life and helping pack up everything. It's something that still haunts me today. I dream of my 'old' house, the items I feel are still in there. I dream about the new owners and having them give me a tour of their projects. One time, they let us inside their beach house. It literally was a multicolored, Jamaican styled, jacuzzi in the top floor house. I couldn't believe it, but it felt nice to wake up knowing that didn't happen. I did not go through my old house.

With my many internships over the last few summers and constantly moving from my college housing to park housing to now a flat in England, I've realized that home is where I make it. I define my home, whether it be in a dungeon like basement flat or a kinda scary house built in the 1960's in the back woods of a battlefield. But home also has love. Lots of it. But not just family love or romantic love, but friendship love and self love.

I've had three out of the four here in England. In the past few weeks, I've grown so close to the girls upstairs and in the program, and I truly regret not getting to know them and spending time with them sooner. I've battled with my fear of friends and making friends, and I've grown so much more comfortable in my own skin. I threw a surprise birthday party for my boyfriend that was a huge success! He had no idea, everyone kept it quiet and we had a great time. I've gone out to dinner in Stratford with these lovely ladies, basically ransacked a castle while in Stratford and enjoyed every second with them. I haven't tried to be someone I'm not. I've joked around, opened up and even admitted to crying to these girls and guess what--- they're still here!

It's been such a blessing to meet every single one of them, and I've already told many of them that I want to drag them back to Gettysburg with me. I want the friendships I gained here to come back to school when I return next Fall. Even with all of us returning to our prospective schools, I hope we'll still see each other at some time or another. Facebook is a beautiful thing that I'll still be in contact with these girls. Thank. God.

Self love was something I wasn't necessarily searching for when I came abroad. One of my professors back home told me before I even made the decision to come abroad about his experience in London when he was an undergraduate. "You learn so much about yourself when you get lost in the depths of London and have to figure out your way back without a map." He said, and I laughed at the story, but didn't get the underlying message until I got here. Stepping out of your comfort-zone, getting lost, trying new food, a new technique in a class or even a new argument. I've struggled and pushed through, I've achieved success and relaxed about the little things and even admitted to my learning disability, which was HUGE. I've hidden it for so many years that it was painful to me to even write it down on medical forms. Why?! Today, I own it. I own who I am, but it's not just from my own reflection, but from the help of others. "You're so enthusiastic, Emma. I love your positivity! You're so sweet! We missed you when you weren't there!" are only some of the statements I've gotten that have stunned me. R-really? You missed me? ME? Wow. I guess I'm alright then, being me. I've been happier in these last few months than my entire Sophomore year and half of my Junior year in college. I'm not overwhelmed with stress and feeling defeated. I feel alive, thriving and full of energy. It's wonderful.


Romantic love has had it's ups and downs this semester, but we've made it. It's been an extremely difficult time on that front, especially with the death of his best friend. Our identities were shaken, who we were as individuals was changing and becoming something we needed to address. However, I'm proud of what our relationship has become in these last few months.

At first, I wondered if it was a bad decision to come abroad with Bobby. But now, I know that it was one of the best decisions of my life. We have gotten so much closer, growing into the people we want to be together. But not as a 'WE', but as a 'YOU' and 'I'. Even though we're together, we still can stand on our own. The staff of the program, now that the semester is over, has joked with us that their fear of us being "THAT couple" who were sucked up into each other all the time. They now admit that that fear was blown away by the first week. No relationship is perfect, but it can be healthy, working and loving. I've helped Bobby through a major loss and a huge paper he threw himself into while he helped me battle my disorganization and my push to change my academic lifestyle. Through both our tears and our laughs together, we came out the other side of this semester more in love with each other on a whole new level. Our understanding of how the other thinks, feels, and reacts is stronger. I wouldn't trade it for the world.



Now for the family love. My God, I cannot even describe to you how much I want to go home JUST to see/be with my family. If  I could bring them all to England, I could stay here for a while. But the fact that I haven't been able to communicate with them as much with the time difference and technological barriers makes me want to get on that plane now. I have hit that point where I've gotten terribly homesick. I miss my parents, my little sister and especially my twin. My wonderful, spunky, cool twin that I wished every time I went out or had friends over, she was there. She would have loved being here, so now I'm ready to be there. It's time to go home.

England, you were the best decision I have ever made. I've learned so much about myself, the world around me, other people and my love. I am truly thankful to everyone at ASE and Gettysburg College that made it possible for me to come to this program. It's been life changing. Bath has officially become one of my 'homes' but now, I think it's time to go.

I'm coming home.

Halfway Point: Spring Break

Aaaah, the Sunday of Spring Break. The day before another school week. The half way point of the semester. That's a scary thought, isn't it?

I cannot describe the feeling when I walk up my metal steps here in England. I take deep breath in of the crisp air. It feels clearer here, sweeter at times. Spring is bringing the little white and pink flowers out on the trees right outside my flat. It's a beautiful sight, making the little things in life seem so great. What else could I need?

Spring Break was an incredible week. I met my boyfriend's family, something I was really looking forward to, and they were even better than I imagined. We had so much fun! They welcomed me in with such an overwhelming feeling of family warmth. I know the entire weekend, while I was with them, I talked about was my family. My incredible twin, who's spunk and sarcasm keeps me on my toes and brings a smile to my face even when I talk about her. She's always with me, in the my shadow on the ground or the sayings we share that I say even when we are apart. My hilariously beautiful little sister who looks like she's 23 when she's actually just 18. Her wonderful way of never letting anything get to her while pushing through the last year of high school and pursuing her dreams. My wonderful parents, who have supported me through everything and anything. FaceTiming me as I force back some tears because all I'd like to do is hug them. I want my father's huge, engulfing arms around me for a 'Zazzy' hug or to lay my head in my mother's lap while she brushes through my hair and we talk about everything. I felt like I was bragging, but when you have an incredible family, how can you not? I realized how much I truly miss them and I finally had a pinch of "You know, I kind of want to go home to see my family."

Bobby and I continued our week up to Edinburgh, Scotland for a very romantic and fun adventure. We stuffed our face with all-you-can-eat at Pizza Hut (which I know sounds gross to everyone in the US, but they made GREAT pizza for an amazing prize!) while talking with our waiter. I found that I can understand the Scottish accent better than the English, which was very strange. I was expecting the opposite. We went into the Scotch Whiskey Experience and learned about all the different whiskeys made in Scotland. The tour was only Bobby and I, but we had a lot of fun. We talked about our time in college (and in his case, 'univ'.) and I kept making him blush. It wasn't intentional, I swear! Bobby got a kick out of it though, which was good.

We toured around the Edinburgh Castle and was rather disappointed. As someone planning to study public history, the displays were poorly done and had no direction. The lighting made the text very hard to read, and all of Scotland's history was thrown around many rooms with no timeline. I kept questioning whether that was because of a lack of individual national history, since Scotland has battled for independence from England and the United Kingdom for ages. Even today, they are trying to vote for independence and to join the European Union. Does the tie to the UK damage the feeling of historical significance in Scotland? I couldn't find my answer. Bobby and I kept discussing it, yet couldn't find an answer. It was intriguing.

 Coming home was such an adventure. We took trains all the way up to Scotland and back, but the way back was during the day. The rolling green hills of Southern Scotland and Northern England were absolutely beautiful with little fluffs of sheep scattering the countryside, many with lambs frolicking beside them. It was a wonderful sense of peace. However, finally getting home and checking my email brought some shock and a lot of tears. A lot. I wasn't selected for a fellowship I've been apart of since freshman year of college. It was a hurtful discovery, with many mixed emotions. I kept asking why and how while reviewing my past academics over and over and over again. What had I done wrong? What hadn't I done right? What did everyone else do that I didn't? Why wasn't I good enough?

On top of another rejection for an internship I really wanted over the summer, my first night home was a mess. I have never cried that hard in my life. Bobby wouldn't let go of me for hours. He wiped away all the tears, even when my eyes couldn't produce any more. Now, a few days later, I have had a full day where I didn't cry. I didn't even really think about it. I enjoyed my break and time with Bobby, making a couch fort and eating ice cream while we were making our dinner. After thinking with a clear mind, I can see what I have to do to not let this happen again. I know I've written about this before, but I wanted to reiterate it. I have ADD. I frequently refer to it as 'the fuzz', because it feels like I'm fighting through a thick layer of fuzz to get something done, or to explain how my focus gets lost in my field of fuzz. I had the choice, when going to college, to put it on my record and have it transfer from high school. Wanting to be a completely different person and start fresh, I declined. I told my high school to not pass on my academic plans, and they didn't. Slowly, over the last few years and especially this past semester, I've lost control of my ADD. I let it paralyze me, scare me and control me. I hated myself and tried to force myself into someone I'm not. I thought wanting to be someone else and pushing myself to be like everyone else around me would work. It didn't, and I'm paying the consequences.

Senior year is staring me in the face, especially with this semester half way done. I don't want to leave England. I haven't had any of the fears or problems that I had back at school. I've let my creativity burst, and I'm benefiting from it. All of my papers and projects have come back, to my shock, in the B+/A- and A range. I haven't had that in years! But why am I thriving here and not back at school? After a rewarding break, where I let my hair down, joked around, let me be me and suddenly having the shock of reality, I've realized that I need to work with myself. Not just accept, but work with. I have accepted myself and my lovely distracted mind. It takes me hours to do something that takes Bobby 15 minutes, and ya' know what? That's okay. Just means that I have to start earlier. I've been doing a lot of research on methods of dealing with ADD along with medication. Today alone, I have found diets to start, organizational tips and books to structure my life. I even found one titled "How to Write a Thesis with Adult ADD". Well, good thing I'm writing my thesis next Fall with this bad boy printed out.

Coming abroad has been the best decision of my life. I needed to get away from school. I needed to discover who I was for me. Not what everyone keeps telling me. I'm creative. I like having colorful hopes and dreams. I want to strive for what I want to do, not what people say I should or shouldn't do. Trying to mold myself into what I want will only happen if I let myself be me first. England has brought me out.

"Emma is Emma, wherever she goes." is the statement my mother has always said since I was little. And I think, after a life changing Spring Break, I have finally fully achieved that statement.

~E

Week Six: Who am I?

I know all you Les Mis fans are waiting for me to say "I'm Jean Valjean!" but I wasn't going to. Close, but no cigar.

I am terrible at this whole "Blog while you're abroad" thing. So here I am, half way through my semester in England. I could cry at how fast it's going. It's slipping through my grasps, but the lessons I am learning while I'm here are sticking. That's a good thing, right?

I really love my class "Writing from the Self". I originally thought it was going to be how to write fiction through our own experiences. Flip that. It's writing about your own experiences through fictions. Sounds like the same thing, but it's not. I'm learning how to impact a reader through my own life. One exercise we had to do this past week was to write about a cultural moment in our past. I picked the song "Yeah" by Usher because it immediately brought me back to 6th grade. Ah, that lovely year of grade school. I had a purple CD player that always had either "The Best of John Williams" or the soundtrack to "The Phantom of the Opera" inside. The counselor I frequently saw told me that I was "much more mature" than the rest of my class. I was harassed like crazy. My entire class was made up of the 'cool kids', and I was the token weirdo. And I will admit, I was really weird. I mean, what 12 year old listens to movie music, loves playing a French Horn (not the cool instrument of a flute or trumpet) and carries around Colonel Robert Gould Shaw's letters? That book didn't leave my side. It was dirty, beaten up and perfect. It was my escape.

I put all these things together with a now-comical-at-the-time-it-wasn't- moment when a young boy was walking in front of me in line singing "Another One Bites the Dust". He turned around and sang it in my face. "Do you know what that means Emma? That means you killed our hamsters."

These two hamsters had gotten loose some how, and everyone blamed me because I was the last one by the cage. Who knows if I shut the cage door all the way. But I felt so angry and hurt that I vowed I would make these kids remember who I was in a GOOD way. They would 'like me' someday. I was that weird kid who loved the Civil War. I was going to prove to them that it was important. History was important. And in a way, I did. Now studying at Gettysburg College, I wouldn't have become who I am today without those kids. I wouldn't have grown up into the Civil War historian, nor a lover of soundtracks. I held tightly to my weirdness, which I'm very thankful for. There are people who try to change who they are just so they can fit in, yet they lose vital pieces of themselves in the process. I fought to the nail against that, and it took me to travel across the world to realize that these little tidbits of my life can become comical relief yet a release of my past to my readers.

However, not all self-discovery is pleasant. After being here for a little bit over a month, my boyfriend's best friend passed away back home. I have never seen him so devastated. The pain of losing someone so close to you changes who you are, but also watching this pain unfold invites reflection. Listening to his regrets and the natural guilt of friends drifting apart made me realize the saying "Live life to the fullest" isn't just a cheesy saying we put on folders or hang in our households. Fear holds us back from so much, yet why are we afraid? We must live to our fullest potential. I know, after this all came out, I reached out to a drifted-apart-friend. I didn't know what to say to her. What do you say when you haven't spoken in months? There was a feeling of loss; loss of words, loss of time. Yet I didn't want to regret anything, so I went for it. I made contact. I expressed the truth. Was it hard? Yes. But I knew that's what I wanted to do.

Since my love is returning home for the service, I ask for everyone to keep him in your prayers. To the his family, I only send my deepest sympathies.

So who am I? I am a woman shaped by my past, by my friendships and my life experiences. I am strong, yet I know I have my weaknesses. With the rest of my semester here in England staring me in the face, I want to push myself. Go visit other countries. Try more food. I have finally gotten addicted to tea, which is new! Cherish the people I have here, but also the people I left back home. Hold my love as he braces the changing future.

I am who I am.

Week One: Fight Like Hell

Well, it's my first week in England. The jet lag is starting to fade and I'm beginning to adjust to the cars on the opposite side of the street. Yet even though I've been here only a week, I've got goals, experiences, even random thoughts such as how I love listening to the radio popping up at rapid speed. I thought I'd share some with the rest of the world, since that's the point of a blog, isn't it?

1. Culture shock does exist. While I have traveled and lived in many different locations in the U.S, I was not immune to this shock. I have fumbled with money, stared at signs trying to figure out what it's actually saying and been very surprised and almost panicked while watching traffic. No, they are not going to run into each other. They're just different.

That's my new term I'm trying to use. Different. Sure, it may feel weird to me, but saying "It's weird." gives a negative view on the differences between me and the citizens around me. They're not weird, they're not wrong. They're just different and this difference is what makes this "Study Abroad", not "Study Comfortable." And sure, they can think I'm weird. I am! I'm an American and boy, is that cool to hear. When I'm asked where I'm from, I have to say the country first. I'm not from here and I look the wrong way down the street. I also turn the handles to things the opposite way. I have never had a real cup of tea until I arrived here. Sausage rolls are pigs-in-a-blanket grown up and I talk extremely fast and loud. I finally had someone tell me they couldn't understand my "American accent" because it was so harsh. I didn't know how to change how I spoke, thus, I blushed and pointed. Within a few weeks, I'll get it down and coming home will be the weird thing.

2. My goal this semester is to work through my fears from home. The feeling of freedom is so relieving. I'm living on my own, cooking my own food and having a blast, yet my fear of money and running out of it threatens the happiness of being in a new place. If people want to go out, I don't want to panic and calculate how much money I have in my head over and over and over again. I also want to have the freedom to write. Write historically, write analytically, and write creatively without the constant voice in the back of my head screaming "THIS ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH." It will be if I work hard, harder than I do at Gettysburg. I don't have that choking fright here. The dramas of school haven't followed me here, whether it be creeping deadlines or straining research. Granted, school hasn't started yet. But there is so much more to overshadow the difficulties of school. The work is worth the play.


3. Being separated from your family can be the hardest thing in the world. I've done the whole summer-away thing since I graduated high school and I've survived, don't get me wrong, but I haven't done the across-the-world, huge time difference thing. When I'm awake, they're asleep. When they're asleep, I'm awake. There's maybe an hour window where I'm dozing off when they get off work/school and I'm wide awake while they're getting ready for the day. It's been tolerable until I finally saw my mother's face today. Our conversation lasted about 3 minutes and they had to go. I wanted to tell her everything and yet, I couldn't. Some teary eyes followed, but I made it through this week. It'll be when the real fun begins when our life-schedules will clash.


It has been an incredible week, and I can honestly say I am so thankful I took this opportunity. I was almost not able to come on this adventure, but I'm glad I stuck to my guns. I remember sitting in the Off Campus Studies office with my mother and when she said we might have to pull the plug on this trip, my response will be my new motto.

"I'm going to fight like hell to get there."

That determination landed me here in the UK, so why not carry that over into my academics? My friendships and my travels? I'm going to fight like hell to stay on top of everything. I'm going to fight like hell to enjoy everyone around me and branch out to people in the program. I'm going to fight like hell to absorb every little detail, every small treat and every single moment, because when I log on here at the end of this semester, I'm going to feel like I just sat down to write this blog post at the beginning.

Here's to you, ASE, and the beginning to a life changing semester!

~E

The Studies of a Lifetime

Happy New Year! I know I'm a bit late, but with January coming to a close soon, I thought I'd give some insight into what my future semester holds for me.

From February to May, I will be studying abroad in England. Away from my country, my little liberal arts college on a Civil War battlefield. Away from my family, my twin and friends. What type of experience will this be for me?

I'm super excited for many things with this trip. I'm taking a Jane Austen class and what's a better place to study her work than IN England?! It'll be so cool.

I am nervous to be going so far away without my family. I finally have my twin in the same state as me, only a few hours away from me and I only enjoyed the closeness for one semester. It just landed on some bad timing.

This blog will be dedicated to my studies abroad with many fellow students from Gettysburg College and my love. I am very fortunate he's able to be there with me. Off to England!


~ E