"My months change like seasons these days..."

Tonight, our first real bonding night, was wonderful. After all the practical filling-out-paperwork-sessions of this morning & afternoon, we had a four course, ridiculously English, dinner party at the Great Hall in Wadham, with about 100 guests in attendance--SLC Program students, Wadham staff, and various tutors. Jeff & I (one of my lovely flatmates) ended up sitting across from this totally sloshed professor who kept winking at all the girls & regaling us with Wadham lore. The whole time I kept thinking, "this is exactly what I pictured it to be." I wish I brought my camera. With these long tables and candles everywhere, it really did look like something out of Harry Potter. And all the drinks, good lord. All everyone drinks here it seems is wine. Glass after glass. And then off to the College Bar, for more drinks. And then we had Pimms--the British equivalent to sangria--once we returned to our flats. A solid six hours of drinking on and off, no wonder I'm still tipsy.

There our five of us in this particular flat, five more next door. We're living in North Oxford, the ritzy side of town, where mansions go for one or two million quid at least. The flats are gorgeous and huge. I have a massive room, and terrace doors that open onto a private lawn. Now if we had heat, and could figure out how to use our oven and gas burners, things would be just entirely fabulous. My flatmates are wonderful--Amy and I are the only two Sarah Lawrence students, Jeff is from Swarthmore, Alex from Wesleyan, and Mark from Reid--and there are all Sarah Lawrence students in the flat next door. The next day I have that isn't utterly insane--probably sometime next week--I have to wander around Oxford and take pictures of everything. And then post them. Right after I post the ones from Spain.

"I thought I was on the set of Gossip Girl when you two walked in"--drunk Wadham student to Alex & I. Were then warned by other student to be wary of Oxford men who like to rack up American girls like a game. There will be none of that. I'll have to come up with some sort of screening process. Yes. Hah.

Tomorrow I see my mother for dinner in town, and then I don't see her again until Christmas. I spent two plus weeks with her, and by the time I arrived in Oxford I was going a little nuts. Yet now that she's leaving, I'm really going to miss her. And this afternoon was not at all how I wanted it to be, especially after the nightmare I had last night, where I was off somewhere doing something, I don't know what, except I felt guilty about it, only to come back to receive a phone call saying that she might have died. Woke from the dream in a jolt, 5 am, crying. I know she's worn out, fed up, ready to go home. She's starting to look her age for the first time & that scares me. I saw her for about forty minutes this afternoon, after getting lost in the rain, and by the time we finally found each other I had barely any time before having to rush back to get ready for tonight. And I didn't tell her what I wanted to tell her, because I would have started to cry again. What can I say? I still need my mother. Anything else is intolerable. And it's hard not to feel like time is ticking by....

I can't quite figure out what my style in this should be. Who my audience exactly is. I don't even know who really reads this for sure. How personal (or not) to get.

Bed time.