Europe-- natural beautifier

So I've been home from Europe for five full days. Since my triumphant return, so to speak, I've slipped rather seamlessly back into "normal life," kind of to my dismay. I have:
--replaced the cell phone I lost on the way to England
--hung out with a dozen friends I've missed the last month
--returned to regular attendance at LDS church
--started a new job
--resumed rehearsals for Pericles
--seen two more plays (because clearly I haven't seen enough theater recently)

As cliche as it sounds, it's been so easy to get back to Real Life that I really feel almost like the last month didn't happen.

Luckily, it did happen. It just kind of feels like it didn't.

The most frequent question I've been asked is, What do you miss most about England? The short answer is, Everything. The reconsidered answer is, Everything except the lack of air con. The realistic answer is, Everything except the currency exchange rate.

All kidding aside, as I've thought about the question, the thing I miss most about Europe (after five days, I'll grant you) is how I felt in Europe. Cue cheesy 80s ballad.

For whatever reason, English Me took 20 minutes to get ready and managed to have cute hair every day. English Me didn't have my makeup melt off quite so quickly, and my bangs seemed to fall the right way. English Me was perfectly, 100% self-aware but not at all self-conscious. Even when I was hot from walking all day, when I was goofing off, when I didn't particularly care what I looked like, I didn't feel frumpy or uncute. I have never felt more pretty, confident, desirable, or happy to be myself in my whole life.

Sadly, I feel like I've already slipped out of that confidence and back into American Me. American Me bugs me. American Me is insecure and slightly neurotic. American Me is not only self-aware, but 100% self-conscious. American Me does not attract international doctors, and international doctors are certainly not enticed to make out with American Me. American Me wants to see more, be more, do more.

I have never felt more beautiful in my life than I did in this picture. I only wish it wasn't blurry, though I guess even that reflects how I was feeling at the moment. I was wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and a head wrap to cover my unwashed hair-- but I was untouchable.

This post is making me sound so sentimental I want to sock myself. American Me also apparently struggles to write meaningful blogs in a non-irritating way, especially because this reflection is not intended to encourage an outpouring of flattering responses. It's not a matter of being told I'm pretty or talented (though I'd be hard pressed to find a girl who doesn't like to hear those things anyway)-- it's a matter of feeling pretty and engaging and funny.

My sweet friend Anna told me I need to find something that can be a constant reminder of English Me. My boyfriend Big Ben as my screensaver on my phone isn't enough. In fact, I think it's making me nostalgic more than anything, and nostalgia is making me American Debbie Downer instead of English Me, who is charming and likes herself a lot and doesn't mind her faults quite so much.

I'll figure out something. But in the meantime, to answer the question, the thing I miss most about Europe is me.