"One Day"

This morning I saw the movie "One Day" (which was a complete sobfest but that's not the point) and on the way home I had this thought. It wasn't really a thought suitable for a Facebook status or Tweet, so thank GOODNESS I have this medium, right? Here goes. Prepare yourselves, guys.

Most girls have that guy they grow up with, the friend they fall for and would do anything for if he just asked. The majority of us outgrow these guys. A few get to keep these friendships, and maintain that platonic relationship into adulthood. The very few see these relationships transform with time into equally requited romance.


That's it. I'm not going anywhere with that, I just wanted to write it down.

Also, Jim Sturgess. Incredibly attractive man.

Home

My very good friend Greg Thompson (is that the second post in a row I've started like that?) posted a video today where he discussed his feelings on home and his hometown. This is a subject I've given a great deal of thought about in the past few years, for obvious reasons. And frankly, I'm a little confused about it. Is home where your family is? Because then I'm there right now. Or is it where you grew up and where you were happiest? Because then it's in multiple locations in Minnesota. Is it where you most want to be? Because then it's across the ocean from me. Or is it simply wherever the people you love are? If that's it then I'm royally screwed because those people are strewn not only across the country, but across the world.
So all this has been leading me to consider a visit. The trouble is, I'm not sure where it is I should go. Money is tight, but I want to travel. The choice of where to go comes down to the big two: London or Minnesota, new friends who know me as I am now, or old friends who have loved me for years. You see my dilemma. In true my-life-is-a-cliche fashion, I'm going to make a list comparing the two. Hopefully this will help. And if you reading this have some say in the matter, by all means, let me know.

-In Favor of London
--This city brought me back. I was truly happy there as I hadn't been since I moved. It's my favorite place.
--I miss my friends. Each time I see a picture of the guys hanging out at Spoons, I just wish I was there.
--Tickets are still kind of cheap, and a transatlantic flight for about $600 isn't THAT bad.
--I hypothetically and hopefully wouldn't have to worry about a place to stay.
--Accents. Four months of British voices was not enough.

-In Favor of Minnesota
--It's been over a year since I've visited. It would be nice to feel that familiarity and normalcy I used to live in again, if just for a few days.
--I miss my friends. Unlike almost everyone else I know, I don't get to see people from home when I'm on breaks. It's been about six months since I've even seen anyone from back there.
--Tickets are (obviously) cheaper to go there, at about $300. I didn't make a lot this summer, so cheaper is nice.
--I almost definitely wouldn't have to worry about a place to stay.
--Accents. Mine is changing. It would be nice to hear the one I grew up with before mine changes forever.

You see my confusion.
That didn't clear anything up for me. Oh well.

Also, just to clarify this once and for all...

Best Friends

From last Sunday to Wednesday, I had a little slice of London back in my life in the form of a friend of a friend who became a friend himself. The title of this post actually references the last post I wrote that involved him, and the joke that grew from it. I know only a few people get it, but I enjoy alienating people in my life. so there you go. So this guy I met and bonded with last semester flew in to America and stayed with my family for a few days, making me actually feel normal for a bit. Considering the friend who lives closest to me here is about an hour and a half from where I live, it was amazing to hang out with someone who wasn't my parent or a middle-aged woman I work with, silently judging me. But considering this friend is from Austria, it was up to me to represent the pure awe-inspiring might that is the United States. I did my best.

On Monday, after sleeping in a little to recover from a late dinner and general fun-times-having with Emily in Boston the night before, we drove down to the beach. Despite the presence of quite a lot of people (we all know how I dislike them), it was pretty great. I'd gone to that beach with friends last year, but that was in early June, when New England was still hanging on to Spring desperately. In August, New Hampshire has already given up the fight and concedes to Summer. So it was nice. We both got sunburned, then drove up the coast a bit to have massive ice creams for lunch, where I also made a friend with an oddly colored seagull. As I do. When we got back to my house, after liberally applying lotion to try to assuage the burns, we got to work on dinner. And when I say "we got to work" what I really mean is "Dai did all the work making a real Austrian dinner while I stood there and watched." But he made real schnitzel, which, I was suprised to find out, is not just slices of meat. Four years of high school German, total lies. After dinner, we walked up to a local park, where a slow-pitch softball game was in progress, which I proceeded to attempt to explain. Turns out explaining generally a game you grew up playing and understanding the intrinsic details of is actually sort of hard. But at least by that time the sun had set, giving our skin a rest.

On Wednesday, we woke up and headed out to have breakfast at Ihop, which turned out to be the best decision of life, ever. Always have breakfast at Ihop when the option exists. But after that taste of heaven we caught the next train into Boston. After getting lost, we then proceeded on the *Sara Griffith Personalized and Fantastic Historic Tour of Boston* only a select few have ever been taken on. Basically this tour consists of following the Freedom Trail, with me spouting of various historical anecdotes, sprinkled with colloquialisms and sporadic expletives. I get worked up about history. The day consisted of my ranting, getting lost and caught in the rain a few times, billboards of large Italian men in the North End, stopping for food or drinks many times, and my flicking off the statue of Christopher Columbus, one of my most hated historical figures. Because I'm classy.

But I really can't stand that guy.

And then we spent that night trolling Tumblr. All in all, completely fantastic.