Confessions of a home bird (Tanika)

It’s one of those nights.

A light drizzle, a little Diana Krall and I find myself in dire need of a dry martini and good conversation. To my dismay, whilst my mind fantasizes about the soft, sultry ambiance of a jazz bar somewhere in downtown Dubai, my body sits down to a long night of genetics and evolution.

I’ve always been that annoying little girl who’d break up all the fun at a sleepover to call her mum demanding to be picked up upon realizing she misses the feel of her own bed. Most times, the quaint cafés, incredible galleries and charming eateries suffice as good enough reasons as to why I decided to move 7000 miles, 7 time zones and 3 continents away. Other times, there isn’t enough artwork by Frederick McCubbin that could compare to the smell of my mothers freshly made garlic naans.

Sometimes living at college can perpetuate or eliminate traces of homesickness. As much as I simply adore living amongst the most incredibly funny, intellectual and friendly people, it often means I don’t have the space I need to let my emotions play out. Having to meet 300 people at every meal, on your way to and from university and of course there’s always the sufficiently awkward ‘I really wish I had more clothing on right now whilst we engage in an unnecessary conversation about your day’ bathroom run in. No matter where you go and when, there are other people. A tad bit confronting.

I guess it’s a constant reminder that you’re never going through anything alone but it also means you can never truly BE alone. UGH.

-Rant over-

Until next time,
Tanika

PS- 5 weeks to end of semester… and EXAMS!!! (Huurrrrrrah-NAH)