This is a fake-out. I am not, in fact, in London. At the moment, I am in my very American bedroom surrounded by a very American jumble of items that may or may not make the final cut for Katie's All-Star Travel Team. T-minus 1.5 days to liftoff and I would say my packing skills are averaging around a C+. My high school self would be horrified with that GPA. I hate stuff, and yet I have so much of it. I am in denial. I am misdirecting. (I thought that was a psychology term but now I'm pretty sure it's what magicians do.) I need some inspiration from a certain magic roomie who neatly packs her life into a suitcase several times a year while I, blessed (or cursed) with the luxury of a car and a home within driving distance, shove everything into the trunk while my father shakes his head in disbelief. I shall change my ways, hopefully before I give myself an ulcer.
Anyway. I'm ready to go. I'm ready to live in a big city and find interesting places and meet interesting people and make carrying a cello look cool. (Really I'm not feeling all that ready, but if I put it on the internet, it becomes true. Right...?) It's hard to think about leaving my friends and family and all the things I love and that bring me comfort. Move-in weekend came and went, class starts tomorrow at Notre Dame, and I'm still home. I keep expecting a phone call or an angry e-mail from the mysterious and all-powerful Office of the Registrar asking me why I'm not at school. But it's OK, I'm just going on a field trip. An extended, all-encompassing field trip. And when I return, I'll have so much to share with people I couldn't take with me. Heck, if I really like them I might even bring them a t-shirt.
Truly, I'm excited. It's an adventure, and I plan on taking in as much as I can. I'll see you in London.
Cheers.
you're precious :)
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