Life in Oxford has become routine, in the best way possible. Mornings start off in cafes. There is no shortage to choose from and while I have a few favorites, there are always new ones to be discovered.

Classes are in full swing and while we have small class sizes at Marywood, nothing compares to being in a class for two hours with only three students. A lot of time is spent on each person’s ideas and participation. But it also means that slacking on readings or work does not go unnoticed.

After class, days are spent in several different ways; my new friends and I wander the city, watch movies, and do homework so that the weekends are free. Previously, my entire life has revolved around the idea of dinner at 5 o’clock. That is barely lunch here.

My group of friends here, from various places around the world, start to make dinner at around 8:00 p.m. But it is an event, one which includes chatting, laughing, and helping each other understand and translate broken English.

Since we live in a few different houses scattered throughout parts of Oxford, I usually have to take the bus back to my house. After a few weekend trips out of Oxford, every time I arrive back here, there is a sense of coming home. This is where almost all of my worldly possessions are and where I have a bed I can call my own. This is now “my” city; I understand it, and it understands me