It was the morning my plane was supposed to leave and I, despite all of my grand plans of exquisite preparation, had still not packed my suitcase. I am lucky to own such a small wardrobe -- if things were different I may not have made my plane. I quickly divided my clothes into two piles: things I wear, and things I do not wear. The former pile went into my over-sized red suitcase ('big red', I like to call her) and that was that.  Not long after, I boarded a plane, bidding farewell to Taco Bell and Applebee’s, and saying “hello” to tea and biscuits for the next 16 weeks.

When I finally reached the Gloucester (pronounced ‘Gloster’) Green bus station in Oxford, England, after too many hours of travel, I was excited to say the least. I dragged my things to where I suspected I could catch a taxi. I found one and chatted with the driver about real estate and vacations, or ‘holidays,’ until we reached it -- The Vines. It was to be my new home, and I was ecstatic to be living in a house with a name. I felt like a character in a Jane Austen novel. This place deserved it, too -- big, old stone in England. I paid the man and then, using the big brass knocker, announced my arrival.

I was greeted by an assortment of tea and snacks. I did not know it then, but tea was about to become a great staple and a new love; there is something about the wonderful, hot liquid which draws people together. I spent the next several hours meeting people -- lots of people. About 40 men and women live in The Vines, and we all arrived at different times. It sort of reminded me of the first episode of the Real World, except with much more people, a less cool house and no making-out.

That night, I set out with a group of my new housemates to a place we had all dreamed of finding in Oxford. No, not Narnia, but close -- the Eagle and Child Pub. It is the pub the Inklings met at in the days of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. We found ourselves, over pints of various beverages, drifting in and out of theological discussions and debates and stepping on and off of various soapboxes. I felt like both Jack (C.S. Lewis) and Dr. Knowles would have been quite proud.

The next few days were similar. Excited by the prospect of so much newness, I was distracted from the magnitude of the semester which faced me. It did not last; soon the reality of the situation began to set in. Something about feeling the loss of people who know me and trying to replace them with people who have no idea was rather disheartening. I began to miss non-verbal communication, hugs and people who knew when I was kidding and at least pretended to think I was funny.

Fortunately, this feeling did not last, either. I soon found my niche and came to really wonder at my being here. The next obstacle which lay before me was the reason I came here: Oxford University. Could I do it? That is a question which I am still asking myself. Most days I am afraid to discover that I do not belong here, that I cannot hack it. The beauty of the situation is that, as much as I feel justified in my own insecurity, everyone around me is feeling the exact same thing. What a support system!

How do we cope with this academic anxiety? We drink tea, eat biscuits (cookies) and study. I spent almost four hours in the Radcliffe Camera of the Bodlian Library today. Before you begin writing me a sympathy card, know this particular building is absolutely beautiful. They say parts of Harry Potter were filmed within the walls of Oxford University, and I believe it. You are not actually allowed into the Camera without an Oxford student card. So every time I go, I wade through a crowd of enamored tourists, flash my blue and white and try to hide my grin, lest they discover I am completely in awe of my surroundings.

In short, Oxford is wonderful. I ride my bike through its streets and the looming gothic spires above beckon me to greatness. I already have countless stories of midnight gallivants in London, weekend trips to Barcelona and typical trips to the nearest or most obscure pub. I love this city. It took only days to make my home, and it will no doubt stay with me for the rest of my life.