There are things that everyone thinks of when they hear "study abroad."
Walking past the Eiffel Tower or Big Ben on a regular basis. Speaking a foreign language every day (well, I'm going to London, so I just get to giggle whenever anyone says "loo"). Traveling to other countries on weekends. Under-1 drinking ages. Those are givens.
What surprised me was that, long before I was on the airplane - heck, long before I sent in my deposit - I was already having "the abroad experience." And what is this experience, you ask? Simple: laziness and sadism.
I noticed this back in November. Granted, my application to University College of London was just a twinkle in my eye and I had no guarantee I would be accepted, but in my head, I already had one foot across the pond.
At the same time, one of my friends was facing the reality of spending her junior year in Medford, which included getting an off-campus house. And as all Tufts students know, getting an off-campus house inevitably leads to housing drama.
As she unfurled her tale of woe that involved at least two wrecked friendships, five counts of forgery and hundreds of dollars in limbo, I couldn't help but smile on the inside.
On one hand, yes, I felt terrible for her and showed all the sympathy and concern I could muster. However, a part of me was chuckling as I thought of all the people who would have to endure very similar situations. I would not have to deal with the troubles of junior year housing (or non-housing as it were). Because I was going abroad.
But the schadenfreude did not stop there. It continued on through registration and even popped up in my summer job. I worked at a summer camp that ended in mid-August. Regularly, staff members would complain that they only had a week or so of freedom before school began again. I, however, had a whole month before I got back to work.
I don't want you to think going abroad is all about the sadism. No. There's also the laziness. During spring semester of sophomore year, whenever things would get tough, whenever I would feel stressed out or oversleep or walk out of a test feeling completely and utterly beaten, I would simply say to myself, "Whatever. I'm going abroad next semester!"
For the first time in my academic career, I was actually able to relax. Suddenly, tests were just tests and grades were just grades and classes were just classes (novel idea, eh?). And they were all merely obstacles that stood between me and my year in London.
Despite my fake, mildly undeserved senioritis, last semester was one of my best semesters. So take that, common sense!
By the way, to those of you who are curious, this "Whatever, I'm going abroad." philosophy also applied to my social life as well. Argument? Drama? Eff that! I'm going abroad! You can yell and hate me all you want.
As you can see, when going abroad, life immediately improves before you even send in your application. And it just gets better.
Man, I really wish I was going abroad next year every year.
