Being Antisocial

I have to admit, I’m feeling slightly (well, more than slightly) antisocial as I sit, alone, in my room and type this blog post. I hear voices and some sick beats pumping out from down the hall, and yet, I just don’t feel like going out there. While everybody has been beyond nice, I haven’t really felt like I fit in yet. Somehow, friend groups have already been established, leaving us thick Americans to fend for ourselves. Granted, my flat mates have been really friendly – probably more friendly, open, and non-awkward upon first meeting than what I experienced back at home my freshman year. They have no qualms about making themselves at home. The first night we were all here, one of my flat mates, Poppy, was already walking around the kitchen barefoot and Ethan, another flat mate, was passing out beers for us all to drink.

Despite this openness, I still feel shut out from their world. Young Britain is essentially enveloped in a perpetual party culture. Even Ethan agreed that overdrinking was a problem in the country (as he downed his 10+ beers. I’m not joking. And this was before his jagerbomb and whatever else he drank later). To illustrate my point, there was a raging party going on all last night that practically consumed the entire residential area. Who parties on their first night at college? I definitely didn’t. I was in bed and homesick.

So, I’ve already got the party thing going against me since I don’t like to party that much and to top it off, I’m not really that big on the music scene, which is super important over here. The clubs are also hot. Probably because there’s a heavy drug culture tied into the music scene. I suppose those two are always linked though. From listening to conversations, I’ve learned that it’s popular to take what (I guess) is the equivalent of acid or whatever people take nowadays to “roll” while they jam out to their dubstep. Oh, and everybody – and I mean, EVERYBODY – smokes over here! The only difference I’ve noticed is that a lot of young people choose to roll their own cigarettes instead of buying cigarette packages. 

I don’t judge. I just can’t relate. I want to hang out with non-Americans but I feel like I can’t without getting sucked into the party scene. I so desperately want a British friend to give me the inside scoop and hang out with me, but my flat mates have only talked about hitting up clubs. My hope was renewed though when a guy on our flat, James, moved in. He seems nice and, at one point, was talking about how he's a homebody. I’m probably going to try to force him into being my friend. Hopefully, his interest in the American doesn’t fade. It seems that when we (my friends from Arcadia and I) initially meets Brits, they are intrigued, but eventually lose interest after a while. I guess the Brits are not into Americans as much as I thought they would be.

I guess all of this is just part of me acclimating to life in London. I’ve been having a fantastic time, but after leaving my friends from Orientation, I’m having some doubts about how my stay at Harrow will work out. Deep down, I know it will work out. I’m just going to have to get over my awkwardness, open the door, and venture out even though it’s so, so hard for me to do. Wish me luck.