Things before leaving were rather less hectic that I had originally thought they were going to be. Despite worrying my mother to no end by procrastinating on my packing, I got everything together with the help of Andrea and her amazing stuffing skills (she got my duvet into a sleeping bag stuff sack so it fit easily in the suitcase (Thank you!)). She only made me leave a pair of pants and a sports bra, which I think means that my fashion sense is slowly improving. That or her standards have fallen. (I am hoping it is the former).
The trip to the airport was good, the whole family (minus the bro) stuffed in the car drove to Reno and then had sushi for lunch before heading to my flights. I flew Reno- Chicago- London. The first flight was just fine, except the man beside me was spilling over the armrest and despite me squishing myself against the window, I could not avoid touching him. (Also, why is it that old men make the same awkward, snore-like breathing noises whether they are awake or asleep?) When I got to Chicago, I was worried about making my next flight because I had only a short lay over, but the gate happened to be very close, so it was no problem at all.
The problems (small) arose when I got on the place. Once I boarded, I took a sleeping pill to try to avoid some jet lag and get through the 8 hour flight. I should have remembered how sensitive I am to medications and my body's propensity to get rid of anything it doesn't like (incidents with wisdom teeth and hernia surgery come to mind). But none the less, right before we started taxiing I had the need to throw up. A small disagreement with the stewardess (flight attendant?) ensued after me leaving my seat to go to the bathroom.
"Ma'am, you are going to have to sit down."
"But I have to use the bathroom."
"You need to sit down until we have taken off and the Captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign."
"OK, I need to throw up. If you want to clean it up, I will gladly sit down, otherwise..."
"I can not tell you that is alright to go to the lavatory."
"OK."
So I went to the bathroom and was back before take-off. Crisis averted. I then proceeded to conk out until they served breakfast 7 hours later. I think next time I will just go with a TylenolPM.
Once in Heathrow, I had to go through customs, and was very thankful that I had applied for a visa. The student line was very long, and I saw several students get turned away and have to go through another line that looked rather ominous. But then I got to the meeting point with other QMUL students and headed straight for the bus.
The bus was very large, but did not have nearly enough cargo room for everyone's things. Thankfully, I had duffel bags and a backpack as opposed to large suitcases because they let me load my things in the seat behind me, and despite some very awkward maneuvering, I was allowed to go on that bus instead of having to wait for the next one. I was still a little nauseous though, and sitting in the back and watching the traffic go the wrong way out the window in a full bus going through narrow streets did little to help. I made it all the way to campus though, about an hour later, with no problems.
The rest of the day consisted of moving into my dorm suite, meeting room mates, touring campus, attempting to unpack (which I will probably procrastinate on just as much as did on packing), finding a grocery store, nap, set up computer, let my family know that I survived, try to follow Metro's progress at sectionals, try to follow the USC v. Washington game (I didn't get to the end of it, I fell asleep, but waking up to hear that we lost 13-16 was so disappointing!) and falling asleep.
I woke up at 4am, fell back asleep at 8am, and woke up again at noon. Hopefully my body will figure out what time it is soon. Other than that, my plans for today are just to continue to get myself set up. Tomorrow orientation starts, which should be interesting.
More updates to come!
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