From Britain to Bloomington – hopping the pond back to college

Dear London,

I left my proverbial heart in your streets, and I don’t think I want it back – unless, you know, I can return and get it myself.

What I’m trying to say is I miss you terribly. I need you back in my life.
It’s been just less than two months since I returned to the States, and while coming back brought some sense of comfort after so much time away, the U.S. felt more foreign than the place I left behind.

Luckily, I brought something back that will stay with me forever. While a backpack full of vinyl LPs would have sufficed – those Brit record stores wreak havoc on music nerds’ bank accounts – it was the experience itself that I remember so vividly.

Two months spent as a music PR intern in one of the world’s biggest, most fabulously cultured cities and I feel like I can do anything.

Well, not really, but at least it gave me a few more strands of hope that I might one day find a job that’s equally amazing and music-centric.

That little bit of validation goes a long way for aspiring music journalists. Believe me.
So was it all fun and parties and schmoozing on the job? Honestly, a part of it was.

My bosses became my friends. We were guest-listed for shows and I met some journalists, musicians and record label employees that I would have never met otherwise.

My mind is still ineffably blown.

But it was also long days staring at a computer, managing Excel spreadsheets and individually copying and pasting e-mails to a more than 100-person contact list. It was stuffing mass amounts of envelopes with CDs and lugging them a couple of blocks to the post office. It was washing the dishes every day, sometimes twice, for the four other people who worked in the office.

But the best part of it all? I enjoyed even those menial tasks. My time at the computer was spent poring over music blogs. The spreadsheets I worked on managed artists’ tours and festival guest lists. Extra copies of those CDs came home with me as souvenirs.

And the dishes? Well, dishes are dishes, but at least I could welcome the activity as a break in my day