I don't always look on the bright side

Some of you, friends and family alike, have complimented me on my independence and my ability to adapt and assimilate in such a faraway land (twice), to settle in, make friends, and venture out fearlessly. And yes, I suppose if you've followed my blog here and while I was in Spain, I might have led you to believe that I was indeed adventurous, brave, and carefree.  But here's the truth. I'm not. Not always at least. A lot of the time, I'm scared. I'm lonely. I miss home and I wish there was just one person in this country that I felt connected to. I get angry when I can't dry my clothes and all my cotton items are too big on me, and I grumble every time I wake up in the morning and one of labmates--yes, someone that I both work and live with--is showering and I can't use the bathroom.  Every time I try to order food at a restaurant and people cannot understand my American-born English, despite it being a national language, I am reminded of how far away I am.  When I try to use the pitiful, non-airconditioned staff locker room at the NUS, I wish I were at the Z-center, where I have my own locker, know everyone, and even have managed to sneak extras from the system.

I've mentioned this to some, but the feeling is like the feeling you get when you go on a long vacation.  By day 12 or so, you're still forcing yourself to have a good time because you know you paid a lot of money and you're not going to be back anytime soon, but underneath, you wish you were home.  Conjure up that feeling, and then try to imagine what it's like to have that feeling not when you're 4 days from returning to you own bed, with your own sheets, and your own pillow, but 4 months.  I'm not asking for pity here.  I know what my situation is and I know what's reasonable to wish for (that I'll be able to make the most of it and at least come away with new perspectives), and what's not (that I could be home).  I just want to explain that I don't deserve credit for being brave, or strong, or anything like that, because I have all of the same fears and doubts that everyone at home imagines they would have.

On Monday, I was extremely rude to someone in our lab, and it was all because I was so consumed by all the angers and frustrations of being a foreigner.  Long story short, I corrected our postdoc's English, in front of our adviser.  It was an extremely jerk move of me and I knew it right away, but the damage was done.  I'm sure everyone noticed, and the postdoc and I chatted about it later.  I apologized profusely, but I still feel like a complete ass.  Maybe what makes it worse is that I know that the only reason I would allow myself to commit such a faux pas is because of how frustrated I am communicating with anyone here, and that I don't see that this ever would have happened at home.

Well, anyway, I don't really have any conclusion here, but I just wanted to at least be honest in my posts.  Noodles and monkeys are all well and good but it's not the whole story.  It'll be fine though, semesters fly by.  I bet it's already almost mid-term season...