31 January 2014: Mail Time (and an impromptou display of emotions)

Today, while I was sitting in the library writing some more of my paper on John Donne, I checked my e-mail to see if there were any important messages to distract me from the current task at hand. There was one in my inbox that told me that I had received mail that I had to pick up at the reception desk of Halifax. Now, receiving mail is always fun, but when you're in college, it's the best thing ever. And when you're at a university in another country, the only way to react is by internally doing this:

So I briskly walked back to Halifax (after stopping at the store to pick up a sausage roll and some tooth paste) to go to the reception desk to claim what was mine. After signing a paper, the man at the desk handed me not one, but TWO pieces of mail!
Since I'm a grown adult woman, here's an accurate representation of my reaction:

((Sorry for the Gene Wilders thing at the end. It was either that or a Doctor Who one. The Internet is strange))

I put my food into the fridge, went upstairs, sat down on my bed, and just looked at my box for a moment.

I covered up the addresses for security reasons, but I was just so happy to see a piece of mail that was delivered to me! And with my house in the return address spot, no less!!

It was wrapped in a chicken parm box. Truth be told, I wish that there was some way for them to have shipped the chicken as well ;)

 Then, after I realized that I was acting like those people in "The Music Man" when the train came with their mail, I opened up my box. The first thing that I saw was an envelope with my mom's handwriting on it. "Miss Ellen," it read. I fought back a couple of tears.

When I opened up the card, I saw the following image. For some reason, I started choking up even more.

And when I opened it, I started to cry. Not in a bad way, mind you. For some reason, this was just the most emotional thing in the world. It's been exactly a month since I've seen my parents last, and even longer than that since I've last seen either of their handwriting.

I can't help but think back on the time when I was in the first grade and I referred to my parents as "mommy and daddy" and one of my also first-grade classmates looked at me and said, "You still call them 'Mommy and Daddy?' It's 'Mom and Dad.'" Shut up, classmate. No it's not.

In an attempt to save myself from being the world's biggest basket case, I decided to put the card to the side and see what they mailed me. Inside, I found the one thing that ever student in university who has to cook for him or herself loves the most: FOOD! There was a bag of chicken noodle soup that makes 8 servings, a bag of cheesy potato soup that makes 8 servings a couple of bags of instant mashed potatoes, and even some Lipton beefy onion soup so that when I'm feeling fancy (and rich!) enough to buy beef, I can make some skillet stew. (If any of my York friends are reading this and ever want some soup, let me know. I don't have enough tupperware to save eight things of soup, so I'll be rather generous with my parents' gift.)

Just look at all that food!!! Do you know how many meals that is?! I have big plans for those mashed potatoes and the frozen chicken I've got in there for tonight!!!

Only problem is that the recipe isn't in metric. Looks like I'll have to use some google converters when I get around to making this recipe!!!

I'll also probably have to get a bigger pot. And a sense of what a "cup" is in metric.

I know that you guys are probably raising your eyebrows right now and wondering why I think that this is such a momentous occasion. I mean, I'm in this great and wonderful historic city, meeting all of these new people and doing all of these cool thins, and I'm choosing to write about getting soup in the mail. I guess that it's just to show how appreciative I am of the fact that I've got so many people out there who love me. I am overwhelmed by the fact that my parents took the time to pick out food for me and write out a card just to show me that they're still here for me. (Shoot, I'm tearing up again!) And it's not just them. My friends at home make a point to Skype with me and keep me up to date on what's going on at Wooster and BW. My camp just told me that they'll let me work again this summer even though I'm going to miss part of June and my enthusiasm was only rivaled by the enthusiasm that my camp friends showed. People are always giving me advice about things that I should do in England and telling me stories about when they came over here.

My new friends that I've made over here have also really got my back. They understand the fact that I'm a bit of an introvert and just accept me for who I am. It feels so good to have been just accepted into this tight-knit house like I was always a part of it. There was a time in my life when I was growing up when I firmly believed that I was undeserving of people being nice to me. But now that I've got so many people in Cleveland, Wooster, Berea, Akron, Spain, England, Ireland, and everywhere else that are there for me...