I Love Public Transportation. And Usher.

Yes. Yes I do.

It struck me today as I sat on the fourth bus of the afternoon: I LOVE BUSES. And the fact that I can get anywhere I need without having to do more than wait, walk through a door, and sit. (Okay, but I also really miss my baby: my 1999 red Jeep Cherokee Sport. That car was part of me...) In essence, public transport is da bomb. End of story. Amurrrica, get on yo game.

All right, so I have officially plugged into 95.8 Capital FM, London's hit music station, and I'm happy to say I'm feeling very united with other Brits around the UK. As we listen to Akon. Who is regularly played in the States. Whatever, this is all about my attempt to bond cyberly with other people in England. Holla. USHER JUST CAME ON. Gosh, I love Usher.

And this post is quickly beginning to have nothing to do with England, so let me remedy that.

I had a huge day of classes today: Human Rights and the Global Sex Trade lecture from 10-11, Advanced Spanish Translation (which was actually awesome and less stressful than I had anticipated) from 11-1, and HR&GST seminar from 2-3. And now I'm home, about to head to bed for some shut eye before I write a paper and run to my third society meeting in 24 hours: Musicality, the musical theatre society. YESSSSS.

Classes are actually really great, from what I can tell in a few class periods. It kind of weirds me out that we only have class once a week, sometimes once every other week, but hey, I'll take it. More free time for meeeeee. Which is going to be rare anyway judging by the length of my reading lists for my classes and the number of societies in which I'm planning on getting involved.

B-T-Dubs, breakdancing and advanced street were both fantastic. I woke up this morning not being sure if I would be able to move, but besides that, I am beginning to feel like quite the Amazon woman. I'm getting muscles in places I didn't even know I had places. Breakdancing is going to be such a fun way to push myself farther and harder than ever before. Time to branch out, yo. Yes. Advanced street is definitely helpful in choreography exposure, allowing me to extend my choreographing abilities :) YES.

Well, all this being said, I think the first British song I'm going to hear today has just come over the radio, which is pretty great. I keep having to remind myself I'm in ENGLAND RIGHT NOW. You'd think I would pick up on that every time I see cars driving on the left side of the road... :)

Love.

Today, I Got Slammed in a Door

I kid you not. That's just how unbelievably classy I am when I go to campus BY MYSELF.

This year, I figured I would be able to make my way around campus quite simply because my classes are restricted to two buildings that are right next to each other: Portland and Trent.

What I failed to recognize, however, is that Trent is designed specifically for the purpose of making students go insane before swallowing them whole in its labyrinthine depths. I wandered around in snaking circles until I finally found the room for my second French seminar (by the way, it takes about 1.5 hours round trip to get to/from campus for a one hour class...)

After class, which was equally as unstructured and strange as the first French seminar I had participated in yesterday, I decided to follow a Brit down a different staircase, thinking he surely would lead me to an exit. Not true. Nope. I ended up wandering through the English department, back and forth, checking in offices hoping there would be an exit, or at least a hallway leading me closer to an exit. I put on my best "I SO know what I'm doing" face, trying to fool the many people congregated in the hallways. Just gonna guess that my game face was counteracted by my wandering through the same hallway several times in a period of five minutes...

I needed to make my way to Portland to buy a book for French, and so I followed the signs in Trent that pointed in that general direction (btw, in England, if a location is "straight ahead," the sign arrows face down, not up. Diagonal arrows indicate going downstairs, or upstairs, or around the corner. All very conveniently understandable, really...). Anyway, I end up wandering through a stuffy tunnel that twists and winds its way to Portland. I kept looking around corners suspiciously, hoping that I was in fact going to Portland and not China. I finally sighted someone ahead of me, which was comforting, so I followed him to the end of the tunnel.

That's when I got slammed in the door.

I tried my best to follow this guy through the door, and instead got my bag and right arm sandwiched between the two. I didn't look back, hoping that if anyone was behind me, my moving forward with confidence would eliminate how awkward it is to get sandwiched between two doors.

It doesn't, just so you know. STILL awkward.

I wandered to the bus stop that would take me directly to Canning Circus so I could catch the 77 to Bobbersmill Bridge to walk home. When I got on the bus, there were several seats open in the back, but I figured I'd just stand in the front because I didn't have a long way to go. Yeah. By the front, I mean the handicapped section. I was the only one standing on the bus, and by the time I started feeling kind of ridiculous, it was far too late to use one of the fold down seats next to me. I stubbornly stood my ground until my stop, and then got off like nobody's business.

Let's just say the past 3 hours have definitely put me past my awkward quota for the day.

Breakdancing and advanced street tonight, three classes tomorrow. Holla.

First Class = Mixed Messages, Indian Friends, and Incredible Hunger

I had my first class in England EVER today!!! And it was grand.

And not that I don't think you're important, but I really should be honest and admit that I'm writing this blog to distract myself from the gnawing hunger that is assailing me an hour prior to dinner. That being said...

French 1A plopped into my schedule at 2pm today, and I plopped myself next to a friendly looking person, who turned out to be an Indian student studying at Drake in IA who is now studying in Nottingham for the semester. Her name was Sonrita, which is like "sonrisa" in Spanish, which means "smile", and I just thought it was adorable. On my right was Sofia from Italy, studying in Nottingham for the full three years. Both were incredibly friendly and made my first class enjoyable.

However, the professor came in looking grim as ever, threw her things on the table, and continued to lecture us on how this would be "an intensive course" and that most of us would not make it to see another day of French because "French is one of the hardest languages". (...Need I remind you that we're in an INTRODUCTORY French course. I think we'll be okay...) However, after this lecture I'm pretty sure my eyes were bulging awkwardly out of my head, and I had to will them back into my skull so I didn't look so obviously panicked.

By the end of the class, however, I was able to wipe my brow, realizing that I had in fact made the cut and could remain in the class, and that our professor had a tough facade but was truly sarcastically funny underneath. Pleasant surprises are always a good way to counteract the initial terror of the first day of class... :)

The class itself was certainly not structured the way I would have imagined it would be. I haven't begun a language for 7 years, so the complete lack of structure was bewildering to say the least. The first thing she had us do was pronounce all of the countries and nationalities after she did. This was difficult, having absolutely no knowledge of how to read, understand, or pronounce the French gibberish that was sketched across the page in front of us. When she asked me where I was from, in French, and I tried to answer, in French, I must have managed to answer in more of a Spanish accent than anything (common mistake for a third-language-learner), and she asked me, in French, if I was from the Dominican Republic. No. No, I am not. I'm just American... which is probably painfully obvious by now.

In any case, it should be an adventure to take French and an advanced Spanish translation course at the same time. We'll see how that goes down, but hey, it was about time my dream of being trilingual became reality, so I'm truly very excited about it!

Both breakdancing and advanced street dance societies start tomorrow evening (right during dinner, ironically, as American dinners are at least 3 hours before typical Brit dinners), and the musical theatre group will meet on Thursday. (Also the day three of my classes meet. Ouch. Long day, but survivable.)

Until then, I am trying my best to ignore the delicious scent of lasagna (which is army crawling its way under my door) by watching old original videos from freshman year. Oh short hair, I miss thee some days... it was just so sassy! And straight. There's really no point straightening my hair here with all the constant moisture in the air. Thank God for the hormonal changes that have given me easily manageable curls :)

Until next time!

London London Londontown

IS SUCH A WONDERFUL PLACE OF MAGICAL AMAZINGNESS!!!!

This is going to be a doozy of a post, so just embrace it and mentally prepare yourselves ;) Also, doozy is totally a word. Stupid spellcheck. Also, I'm declaring spellcheck a word. Stupid spellcheck.

OKAY.

When we stepped off the train into the famous St. Pancras International Train Station, I almost died with excitement: I WAS IN LONDON!!! When we made it out into the streets, already bustling with Friday night activity, a ridiculous smile stretched my face beyond the capacity of my skin. I had waited 20 years to be in this city, and there I was, ready to explore and conquer.

That night, Danny, Aaron, and I had a little "guys' night plus Amy" at the local pub before getting dressed up to head out to the clubs for the night. We ended up at "The Zoo" -- appropriately named based on the number of people present that night. All was fun and games until we couldn't quite find our way home and I realized I had to go to the bathroom so badly that it might be a better option to rip my bladder out of my body than wait the fifteen minutes to get home. Luckily, we did make it in time, and I slept incredibly well after alleviating the excruciating pain that was tearing its way through the walls of my bladder. Oof.

The next morning we went on Alison's Literary Golden Mile (a literary tour of the homes/workplaces of famous authors throughout our corner of London). It was the perfect day for a tour -- sun shining... traffic chirping...? I don't really recall any birds, except massively huge ravens. Ugh. The tour ended in the British Library (for scholars only!) at an exhibit of the original works of famous authors, musicians, and theologians.

I. Almost. Cried.

I saw Jane Austen's handwriting scribbling through pages of her original journal -- some of her first works! I saw the original copy of Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. But what really moved me, not surprisingly, was the music section. To see with my own eyes original copies of music created by Henry Purcell (many of whose songs I have practiced in previous years), Handel's Messiah, Schubert, Beethoven's tuning fork... lyrics from the Beatles scribbled on envelopes and scrap pieces of paper. Seeing their edits was like watching the creative process unfold in front of me, something I am well familiar with in my own pursuits of original musicality. I felt so akin to these famous musicians and composers, yet so incredibly small in my endeavors. Handel wrote his Messiah in TWENTY FOUR DAYS. Pure genius, in twenty four days. INCREDIBLE.

After eating the biggest blueberry muffin in the world (which was really more like a cupcake with a clump of blueberries in the middle, not objecting!), we headed to the famous British Museum to visit the mummies and Greco-Roman sculptures.

The highlight of the day, however, was going to the Barbican Theatre to see the London Symphony Orchestra perform a three part concert. Oh. My. Word. There is nothing in the world that speaks to my soul like live classical music. I can close my eyes and let my imagination run like fire. Classical music brings me straight back to the arms of my family -- to a mother whose piano music has embraced the walls of our home since my childhood, to a father whose love for classical music inspired my love for it in the first place. I felt so at home, and so inspired to never let my music go. Music is in everything that I am. Music fills my head when I walk down the street, covers my dreams at night, wakes me up in the morning, and pumps through my veins when I dance. Nothing will ever hold my attention like music.

After the spiritual high of Saturday, Sunday had enormous shoes to fill, and fill them it did! We headed to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre (unfortunately, only a replica as the original burned down centuries ago) and saw Henry IV Part I in a setting much akin to the theatres in Elizabethan time. As I stood by the stage (the true way to see an Elizabethan style play), I was taken back hundreds of years to a time when getting a standing spot at a theatre cost one penny, 1/6 of a day's wage. Aside from the Northfaces and beer bottles, I would have easily been fooled into believing I had certainly stepped into another time. What a fabulous and priceless experience it is to be able to let your mind fall backward in time, and to awaken only to realize that that kind of history certainly does exist. That those people did exist. Hundreds, thousands of years ago. They were there. Our country is so young....

So that was London. And it was WONDERFUL! I would be so incredibly happy to live there (minus the added expenses of living in a big city), but I will be perfectly content living in Nottingham for these 9 months. After graduation, who knows where I'll end up. Not knowing the future is kind of exciting, isn't it? :)

Pancake Batter & Onion Baths

Sounds fascinating, right? Well, that's basically what ends up happening when you do dishes after cooking and serving pancakes, vegetable scrambled eggs, and fruit salad to 16 people. I have confirmed my notion that I will not be a housewife, nor will I have many children, for I find little to no pleasure in cooking for hoards of people.

Overall, though, it was a swell experience. We had many a mishap, but it was all made entertaining when Justin Timberlake's SexyBack started pumping through the laptop speakers. Three made plenty of company and the work light, so the giant task ended up a success :)

Now to recap the last 24 hours, I have to unfortunately relive some very dark moments of my life...

It all began with registration. Bile rises to my throat at the memory. I stood in three lines, for three departments, for four classes, for over four hours. My longest line went down a long hallway one way, down the stairs, and back up the stairs for TWO FLOORS. It was daunting to say the least...

Four hours later, I miraculously ended up with every class I needed to get into, and then some! YES PRAISE THE LORD.

Walking through hell and back certainly called for a shopping spree (originally for school supplies, but we ended up running out of time...). Abby, Aimee, and I found great clubbing dresses for £10, and decided we were ready to hit the town that night.

We had paid for tickets to Oceana, a club in downtown Nottingham, as part of Freshers Week. What we should've gathered from the title of the week, however, was that every single person there would be eighteen and obnoxious. Once again, we were juniors and seniors in college being treated like freshmen, and it was really more than we could bear. The hottest guy there was the guy manning the lights, and as he was off limits, we wound up leaving early, looking slightly ridiculous in our club gear riding the bus through our quaint neighborhood at eleven. Even the bus driver was laughing at us... what a way to cap off an incredibly awkward night... We hope to regain our confidence and then some in London ;)

Then today I woke up at 7:30 to get a shower and mentally prepare myself for, yep, CLASSES. Why they would start classes the day after the most painstaking registration process of my life was completely beyond me, but I obediently got dressed and headed to the bus stop.

Abby and I got to our class only to realize, after waiting for 20 minutes, that our class in fact did not start until next week, and that my Spanish seminar would also be postponed until after the 27th. Why they couldn't have told us this at registration is still something of a mystery to me, but I have learned to lift my chin and bear the rampid miscommunication with a smile.

On the way home from picking up our school supplies in the city centre, Abby and I heatedly shared our irritation with the world as it is, discussing the importance of both feminism and having a knowledge of politics before publicly attaching yourself to one party. I descended the stairs (double-decker buses are wonderful things, btw) saying something incredibly pointed and dramatic like, "If I'm not a feminist, who will be?" And then I fell. And dropped my bag of school supplies down the aisle. It was super classy, I assure you. Trying to hold back my embarrassed laughter, I picked up my bag and walked off the bus without making eye contact with the other passengers on the bus that day.

So to recap: Registration lines all the way to China, robbing the cradle, waking up to go to nonexistent classes, falling off a bus, and bathing in pancake batter and onion. Eventful, to say the least!

Hoping London will prove itself to be eventful as well, but in all the best ways possible :)

Today...

What to even TELL you about today?

At least half of the flat residents are sick, or about to become plagued with the same colds that have affected the rest of us due to the incredibly close living quarters. And the jet-lag. And the adjustment to a new climate. England is wonderful, until it donates eight pounds of mucus to the cavity between your eyeballs. Cheers.

This week has been hella stressful for many of us, as registration is now upon us all! The University of Nottingham, despite its decades of experience dealing with international students, has failed to create a system that will allow said students to register without pulling their hair out or wanting to shoot an unsuspecting squirrel in the tail with a bow and arrow. (Note: I do not condone violence against animals. Violence is not the answer. Make love, not war.) So really, many of us (lucky as we are to be part of a "well-balanced liberal arts education" in the States) are running between four or five different departments in the hopes of getting into upper level courses that have already been opened to the local upperclassmen for registration.

No one told me that being an international student would mean being treated like a freshman. Just what I've always wanted -- backtracking FOUR YEARS in my university life. Joy.

So tomorrow is the day -- the daunting day that has loomed over my head for the past week, and has caused many a scream session with my flatmates. I have carefully formulated backups for my very specific requirements for graduation (what a dandy it is to try to graduate the year you're studying abroad... not that I regret either decision, but holy wow...), created a systematic timeline for when to most efficiently run to each building and stand in a queue (line) to speak to the one person working the department registration desk that day. Conveniently enough, all four of my schools that I need to run to have scheduled registration AT THE SAME TIME.

Dear Lord, help us all.

I hope to send a more optimistic update to you tomorrow, but only time will tell whether the archaic methodology of registration employed here in Nottingham will manage to royally screw me over or not. I hope to evade any such misfortune, and instead I plan to endure through any and all circumstances... after throwing a fit for wasting so much time on formulating the perfect plan by which to succeed, most likely by dancing with more enthusiasm than necessary.

But hey, there's always hope, right? ...Right?

And alas, I see a light at the end of the tunnel, and that light is London. (ETA 24/9/2010)

Time to go snuggle with my kleenix box... ;)

A Craving for Caramel Shortbread

Yeah. It sounds fabulous, I KNOW. And I've been craving it all day...

But that aside, HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE! So sorry to have kept you waiting for a post this long. The group had a glorious 4 day trip to York, Alnwich, Lindesfarne, and Durham which kept me from the computer (which was incredibly refreshing, by the way) and thus I haven't had time to drop an update.

And unfortunately, I've had to write at least two papers on my journey, so I really don't have the spirits to disclose the details of the weekend adventures again. Here's the short version: York Minster (Cathedral) was completely beautiful and majestic in its incredible glory, Alnwich was eventful for all ;), Lindesfarne was quaint and serves great chicken soup (although it is also plagued with an angry horde of bees), and Durham was also splendid, complete with a 325 stair trek (haha, so "punny"...) to the top of Durham Cathedral where we could see 20 miles in all directions. Wonderful? Yes. Oh yes.

But enough about the weekend, I want to talk about the glory of everyday life here at Nottingham. No, no, I promise it's exciting. Hang in there.

Let me set the scene: I am sitting here after reading a dozen BBC Mundo Internacional articles in Spanish to, 1. Practice Spanish and, most importantly, 2. Refresh my knowledge of worldly affairs. (America is poorly undereducated on what is going on around the world, and I plan on breaking that stereotype THANK YOU.) Sara Bareilles is singing her jazzy voice out through my laptop speakers (Pandora doesn't work in the UK :(), and I am drinking my body mass in water as I type once again to you lovely people. Life is sweet :)

So here was my day, typical of many a day spent here in Nottingham:
We (Aimee, Abby, and I) finished up registration at the University (I get to register for classes Monday and Wednesday -- SO PUMPED, more on this once my schedule is completed) and headed to the city centre to grab some lunch at Brown Betty's, a hole in the wall restaurant only open for lunch Mon-Fri. The service is remarkably quick, the portions wonderfully huge, and the food absolutely sublime. We had massive club ciabatta sandwiches, which I inhaled in about 2 minutes it was SO DELICIOUS. Definitely planning on hitting up BB's frequently :)

We then embarked to Waterstone's bookstore, a glorious five story bookstore that I could easily lose myself in. We grabbed coffee and sat by the window, each blissfully submerged in our book of choice (one read a romance novel, another a suspense/thriller, and one a book titled "Feminist Theology" ... what book was mine, I wonder? ;)). We read leisurely for an hour or so before breaking our silence to delve into a lengthy theological discussion. IT WAS GLORIOUS. I am increasingly amazed at how blessed I am to be surrounded by such an exceptional group of intelligent individuals, full of passion, compassion, and unique ideas -- the very models of open-mindedness, eager to learn and listen to other opinions.

After talking for a few hours, we set off in search of food at the Hog's Head pub (the Harry Potter references are KILLING me! Love it!). The food once again was FABULOUS and finished quickly as we marveled at the confusing sport that is cricket. It's like baseball... but without running... or gloves... or any semblance of a sport...

After exploring the other end of town, which was chalk full of attractive men (ALWAYS a plus), we headed home once again, where I donned my gangsta sweats and broke it down in the church overflow (complete with wood stage, PERFECT for practicing floor work) to dance off the delicious food I had consumed.

And now you find me here, completely content with the day and eagerly anticipating many more of the kind. England is treating me so well, and I can't imagine any place I'd rather be.

Cheers!

The Best Buys Around

Okay. Today we visited the campus (to better understand which mode of transportation may best suit our needs), where I stepped on dead bird guts (yum), checked out the entire Nottingham rugby team (YUM), and visited the buildings we'll be staying in for our student orientation in a few days.

But the best part of the day (I know, you thought I'd say the rugby players, right?) was the amount of things I bought today for the amount of pounds I dished out. (Note to Mom and Dad: I only bought things I legitimately needed. I'm not going store or boy crazy...yet. Just kidding. ;))

For lunch, we had a personal pizza, choice of bottled drink, and dessert for less than 3 pounds(about $4.50).

Then we went on stunning photo adventures (to get the touristy photo-taking out of the way). My favorite was the one shown at the beginning of this blog: we were trying to take pictures in front of the main square, and this guy would not take the hint and move. So I took a picture WITH him instead... without him knowing, of course :)

Finally, I bought a pair of heels (I desperately needed to replace my black dress shoes) and jeans (boyfriend fit, perfect for the gangsta inside) for a total of 15 pounds (about $23)!!!

Amazing. England, I love you.

Day 2

Am I planning on blogging EVERY day from England? Well... for a while that may be a possibility, seeing as this is also an easy way for me to keep a "travel journal" to remember everything that happened during my trip so I can look back as an old lady and remember what it was like to be young. (Just a clarification, I plan on being impeccably healthy as an older person, and also very young at heart ;))

So, yes, here I am blogging to you for the third day in a row as I listen to John Mayer and feel the British breeze blow through my window. And yes, I can still see the palm tree from where I'm sitting!

We toured the downtown Nottingham today, and boy was it BEAUTIFUL. It's quaint enough that one can get to know it in a relatively short period of time, but big enough to really get that city feeling, which of course, I LOVE.

We saw buildings and remnants of walls that are older than our country, which really puts things into perspective for us as Americans. Our "history" is just a scratch on the surface of what a city like Nottingham has to offer. We went into caves below one of the pubs that were used about 300 years ago for secret meetings and other illegal things like dog fights! There are caves in Nottingham that date back to prehistoric times. I fully intend to go with the group on one of the cave ghost tours. YES. Sounds like a phenomenal time.

After touring the city, we headed to the pharmacy in one of the shopping centers to pick up some necessary toiletries. This pharmacy, Boots, is one of about 700 pharmaceuticals throughout the EU by the same name, all started by Jessie Boot right here in Nottingham. And if Jessie Boot doesn't mean much to you, open your cupboard, take out your ibuprofen, and thank him for inventing it ;)

We completed the day by taking one of several double-decker buses back to the flat, chatting with a friendly Englishman on the way, and now I'm here, happy to be off my feet for the first time all day :)

Side-note: "Chips" in England are "fries" in America. What Americans call "chips" are called "crisps" here (and come in flavors like "Cheese and Onion" and "Bacon and BBQ Sauce"). Also, British salsa is basically spicy ketchup. Not particularly appetizing, but the rest of the food is suiting me quite well. Especially the beef. GOOD beef. :)

All my love!

I'M HERE!!!!!!

Well, the day has arrived -- and I have arrived!!!

It all began at 12 o'clock (your time) this afternoon when three of my closest friends and my parents gave me the most precious goodbye I could've asked for. I am now armed with wonderful cards and pictures to decorate my desk in the flat and remind me of the priceless home I have left -- but only for a short while!

Honestly, it hasn't sunk in yet. I'm just waiting for it to... will it be tomorrow when I'm finally showered and no longer jet-lagged, or will it be 3 months from now when I finally have the hang of British society? Only time will tell, I guess, which is usually true of most things ;)

My apologies for any incoherency that you meet in this blog post -- it may be 3:50pm in Nottingham, but in Amy time it's about 10am after a night of no sleep.

However, the 8 hour flight from Chicago to London was not as unbearable as I expected it to be! I bumped my hip hop music the whole way over, and hardly noticed the time inching by... minus the occasional realization that my legs felt like they were going to fall off. The British accents of the flight attendants and passengers were to DIE FOR. "Would you like some milk and sugahhh with that, dahling?" YES, PLEASE. And just say that about 5 more times...

Once I stepped foot in London, my inner voice (the one that reads all the signs to yourself? Yeah. That inner voice...) automatically switched to a British accent.

I found a very comfortable shoulder to snuggle up to on the bus on the way to Nottingham, but unfortunately found little ability to sleep. (I've also realized that my vocabulary and grammar has noticeably improved since landing...)

Nottingham, well... what I saw of it between fitful bouts of sleep... is completely picturesque and stereotypically English. Row upon row of brick houses face the road, which is marked with many zig-zag lines to indicate restricted zones, etc. From my window in my flat I can see the neighbors' gardens, and get this -- PALM TREES. We have one in our flat, too. Seems the grass is always greener...

I miss home already, but I'm not thinking about it yet. There will be time for all of that when I'm a little more awake and a little less grimy. Until then, I love you all, and I look forward to sharing this adventure with you via internet, until I can share it with you again in person!

27 hours and counting...

Hey beautiful people!

I pray you are enjoying this BEAUTIFUL day outside for me... I'll be barred within the four walls of this house surrounded by a catastrophic amount of clothing and suitcases for the next umpteen hours...

I'm starting this blog to divert from my spiritual contemplations and separately document my 9 month long journey to Nottingham, UK. Let's begin, shall we?

And so it begins -- the infamous journey I have been anticipating since November. And after a hectic summer, I am FINALLY ready to be excited :) I couldn't let myself get too far ahead of myself, but now my mind is running down the streets of London while my body stays here in my bed in the US (in front of an open Word document that is supposed to be my internship response paper... oops).

Feelings? Hard to say. Technically I should be focusing on this internship paper, so I really should get back to that... but right now? I'm ready. I'm BEYOND ready. It's time for something new, for a season of blessing instead of a season of pain. I can't wait for all the new adventures God has in store! 9 months away from home doesn't sound so bad when I consider the location... time for some serious restoration, excitement, and rejuvenation. YES.

So, feelings?
I'm ready.
I'm SO ready.

Except for that packing part... that's got to happen ASAP....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mm7EW9UcW9I <<-- one of my favorite songs right now :)