Home, Sweet Derry...

Upon returning to Magee, the only thing I wanted to do was peel off my soaked clothes, change into flannel pajamas, and collapse on my bed. Perhaps stand for a blessed 20 minutes under my own clean, hot shower.

But as I pushed open the flat door, a teeny, tiny bit of me did hope that my flatmates were around to discuss how much they missed me.

OK, I realized that I really missed them.

Fortunately, perhaps because of my soaked exterior, no one was around so I was granted safe and hasty passage to my own room. I headed to the computer lab to check e-mail and the second time around, I heard voices behind the door.

Then, CRASH!

In true, Block 14-E fashion, I stumbled through the door and right smack in the middle of a sport which could only be called hallball. It consists of one - sometimes two or three - person at each end of the hall passing a soccer ball back and forth. It's a good routine when you're having a conversation and just feel like passing it to and fro.

Unless, of course, you're playing with Ben Cote. Who, as indicative of his always competitive nature, likes to slam the ball into the wall or the opponent, with total disregard for the concept of communal property and, ahem, damage fees at the close of the semester.

And so it was that I was greeted by John and Ben with a nice TWACK in the thigh of the community soccer ball.

Unlike my earlier return, however, this time the flat was buzzing with activity. Hallball, shouting between doors, Kerry actually sending me a text message from the kitchen.

"We're headed to the movies, you in?" she said.

I was exhausted and had a paper to work on. Of course I was in.

So it was that we spent my first night back trading stories over dinner and laughing at the Corpse Bride.

And, as we sat under the glow of the Ice Wharf, heads bowed over our half-priced fish and chips, delighting in Kerry's retelling of the weekend's gossip, I came to the sudden realization of just how much I missed my little flat.

It's hard to explain the minute changes in your everyday social existence when you choose to live and study abroad. Though it might make sense to assume you would be more isolated and more lonely - uprooted from your family and your friends - I think in our case it has actually meant the opposite. Without a handful of club meetings to run off to or a family to go home to or even childhood friends to run and meet, the flat has almost created its own substitute family.

It's so comforting to know each day that when I start making lunch in the kitchen, Jay, who can hear the clatter, will then emerge from his bed and come to eat breakfast. Or that we all will rally around the dinner table at night to cook dinner and watch the football matches -- even if we aren't meeting. Or to just say, "Hey, I feel like a movie," and have five people come. Not necessarily because they want to see it but because, hey, there's nothing else to do.

So, as I told the crew about London, regaling them with tales of pretensious snobs and guys who shake the bed, I had this amazing feeling of home, of finally being back with my friends, my mini Derry family.

Though I like to think of myself as independent and imagined myself traveling alone or just grabbing a suitcase and taking a day trip throughout the year, I suddenly realized that London would have been so much more fun had they come along.

Suddenly, the year seemed to be slipping by quite fast.....