Yeah, a combination of Nervous and Excited. I was gonna go with excervous… but it seemed kind of like exorcist so…
I leave for Paris on Wednesday morning. WEDNESDAY MORNING. And I actually have my french visa.
Up until this point I’ve been laying in bed each night fighting off heart palpitations, thinking about how there was absolutely nothing I could do and that the fate of my existence lay in the hands of mail carriers. Yes, existence. Or at least my ability to leave the United States, a country that is neither my original country of residence nor my destination. A country that I needed a passport in order to leave leave. A passport that was in an envelope with my French exchange visa application. The wine I’ve started drinking (you know, for transition’s sake), it helps.
Also the three different cakes chillin in the kitchen; the aftermath of my stepmom’s birthday.
What didn’t help? When my stepdad called the Fedex, and the Fedex said that if they left off the package (that my stepdad had yet to even receive) before 3pm (on friday), that he was lucky, and the package would leave Whitehorse on Monday (yesterday). Approximating a 2-day delivery to Vancouver (getting there by wednesday). Followed by another 2-day delivery to Steamboat Springs (leaving us at friday).
Guess what. Oh right I told you. My plane leaves WEDNESDAY MORNING. That’s two days before Friday, for those of us who cut class in grade 1.
So that wasn’t gonna happen. My hard-working stepdad was at my disposal, as was my hard-working regular dad, and me I swear. And they contacted my supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Auntie Karen. And magic happened. I have my beloved documentation.
They didn’t even reject my visa application. I was certain that rejection was happening. I mean.. They e-mailed me to tell me that even though I had a prepaid Xpress envelope, and I had my home address on a separate sheet of paper, they absolutely needed another prepaid Xpress envelope with my home address explicitly written on the envelope if they were even going to read my application. Rejection was soooo imminent. BUT IT WASN’T!! Nana-nana-boo-boo.
Sorry, this is just huge for me. Rant rant. So right, nervcited.
The nervous part: I’m heading off into the unknown. Leaving my trail of breadcrumbs. You get the picture.
I graduate while I’m in Paris. There is nothing stopping me from just flitting off and dropping all of those “5 year plans” that I’ve stuck to. I have NO railings. I could jump off. You know?
You know that feeling, that one when you’re standing on the edge of something high, and there’s no railing, and you’re scared of yourself. You know you could jump if you wanted to, nothing would stop you, and in some creepy way, you’re intrigued. So… you spastically jump three feet backward. Gives me shivers.
Oh, and then there’s the whole, I’m going to be alone in a foreign-speaking country, on a continent that I’ve never set foot, where people like to sometimes stick their hands in your pockets to see what they can find. Seriously though, this isn’t the bit that gets me. Not at all. I’m cool with the being independent and facing challenges deal.
So I guess my situation is a little different. This is where the excited part comes in: my “jump” is more awesome, and less falling off a cliff. Maybe it’s cooking school, or pastry class, or European organic farming, or just even more freaking travelling. It’s all “Eep!” worthy. Good Eep.
I could fall in love with Paris, or I could just be reminded of how much I freaking love home. Either way, I’d better be ready.
Ok, I’m so ready.
And I’m going to miss what I’ve had this month. Steamboat, family, fluffy snow, wicked kitchen, baking, cooking, best puppy.
I’ll leave you off with some brotherisms.. and check back in from Denver.. or Chicago.. or Paris.
-“I’ve got the moves the Fragger, I’ve got the moves like Fragger, I’ve got the Moooooves like Fragger!” – Brothers together in synch, one doing a bum-wiggle. It is not my place to correct them.
– “NO, NO, NO, I’m way too scared to get the doorbell.”
“But you know who it is..”
“AH, AH, AH, Too scared!” -brother B.
– “I hate to be naked! I am SO not going upstairs naked.” – brother K, on going upstairs in his t-shirt and underwear after changing out of his hockey gear, after the timid brother B ( who couldn’t even answer the doorbell earlier) blew up the stairs in nothing but his tighty-whiteys.
I will miss the over-dramatization of everything from the scariness of coconut, to the difficulty of “4+0” (after finishing 20 way more difficult math questions), to really not liking moose, therefore not liking chocolate “moose”.
Fortunately, I’ll get to see the drama in Europe in July. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.