Two days after Julia and I returned from our trips to Barcelona and Paris, one of our best friends Sam came to visit us for a week. It had been two and a half months since we had last seen her (over 7 months for Bryn), and it seemed that we could talk of nothing else in the weeks leading up to her arrival. Over text and Facebook, we had raved to each other about the impending reunion and inadvertently crafted a tower of expectations built on a foundation of shimmering, yet freaking unstable sand. Here were some of those unrealistic expectations paired with what actually happened:

1. Epic Reunion: We were fully ready to embarrass ourselves in front of the general British public. Originally, I had pictured meeting Sam at the airport with Bryn and Julia. As she rolled her swanky Vera Bradley suitcase through customs to the arrival area (and hitting baggage claim sometime around there too. I admit, I didn’t have all the kinks worked out), the three of us would mob her in a huge hug that encompassed all the hugs we didn’t get to have during the months we were apart. Squeals, laughs as our collective lack of balance would have imminently led to toppling over, and tears (mostly on Sam’s part) would all have been part of this experience. It would have been a hug to end all hugs, with the least appreciative audience to witness it: tired British people in a hurry.

Reality: Well, if you have an incredible memory, you’ll remember that as soon as Julia and I got back from our break, we had a 10 page paper due for our art appreciation class that Monday. Being the two go-getters that we are, neither of us started until Sunday afternoon. When I woke up the next morning to print my paper out, all the photos I had were out of order, and it took a couple hours to fix. We also had class that morning, so we couldn’t pick up Sam from the airport with Bryn. We were also going on a trip to Ely Cathedral, and because of the paper mishap, I hadn’t showered. Or brushed my hair. Or done anything to make myself look in any way presentable. As the taxis were pulling away from the house, I saw Bryn and Sam walk in front of the car. I screeched, “Wait, stop!” I then proceeded to kick the car door open (because apparently too much excitement leads to a loss of hand mobility) and half tackled Sam, twisting her ankle in the process. Two seconds later, I was back in the car. Julia managed an enthusiastic wave from her taxi. It was magical.

2. Adventures Worthy of a Movie Contract: I’m going to admit something that I feel comfortable sharing with you, now that we’ve gotten to know each other over the past few months. I was pretty sure we were going to meet One Direction on this trip. Not positive, but, like I said, pretty sure. I had no plan of action, no schemes or strategies. I was just confident that since Sam was able to come here at all, a miracle in itself, more miracles were bound to ensue. Then we and the boys of 1D would become best friends and get up to all kinds of British mischief. I’m just saying, I didn’t think it was entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Reality: Turns out that this goal was safely nestled within the realm of impossibility. Honestly, having one of my best friends visit us was such a surreal experience that I never really felt the need to do anything particularly daring. I was so happy to just wake up and see Sam snoring away on the top bunk or to hear her cracking up to one of Julia’s “jokes” in the other room. I just wanted to spend time with her, and it didn’t matter that we weren’t living it up with famous British pop stars. It was paradise just sitting around, having a movie marathon and pigging out on anything that had a dangerous amount of carbs in it. Twist: When Sam was leaving for the States, she was at the airport the same time as two of the members of One Direction. She didn’t find out until the next day. Oh, the bitter taste of irony.

3. Showing off: Because we had been here for two and a half months, Julia and I considered ourselves to be posh Cambridge experts. We were planning on showing her all the sights of our beloved town: the colleges, the parks, a bunch of really old stuff, a haunted pub here and there. We would be her tour guides, pointing at old buildings and rattling off the half-remembered facts that a tour guide gave us our second day here. She would gasp and be in awe of our vast knowledge (or at least appreciate our abilities to completely make up a believable history of the town), and be quite envious of the convincing British accents we would undoubtedly be putting on for the entirety of the tour. In addition, we would introduce her to all of our British friends, impressing her with our ability to successfully charm the haughty natives.

Reality: Our idea of the best of Cambridge turned out to include only two things: the Crepe Cart and the Botanical Gardens. No regrets on the Crepe Cart. That place is happiness on wheels. Regarding the Gardens: let’s just say that Sam took around 500 pictures during her time here, and 250 of them were dedicated to our trip there. Being a biology major, Sam is instantly interested by all things leafy. Most of our time in the Botanical Gardens was spent sitting on a bench and watching Sam run around in front of us raving about some rare tree bark or a species of bird that she had to know about for a test. Although Sam did meet our British friends, we all much preferred to spend our time gossiping about them instead of actually socializing with them.

Sam fit right into our house dynamic, and I wish we could have somehow made her stay for the rest of the semester (I tried to tempt her with stories of magical trees only found in Cambridge, but she didn’t go for it). However, in three weeks we will be back home, and I’ll get to see her and all my friends and family again. Thinking about it now, I realize that I need to take advantage of the time I have left, meaning making a lot more stops at the Crepe Cart before I leave.

 

Danielle

PS: Shout out to Brooke, Julia’s best friend, who graced us with her presence for a few magical days as well before heading off to Scotland! Tune in next time for my next blog, in which we join up with Brooke in Edinburgh!