In a Word:

OVERWHELMED

Here is a chronological list of the things that have overwhelmed me in the past week (has it really only been a week?!)

- The sheer amount of crap that I have accumulated over the past four years.  Most of it was junk but there was also a large mix of trinkets that made me pause, made tears spring to my eyes, brought back anger, brought back joy, and gave me a moment to reflect.  Throwing that much away and deciding what, if anything, to keep could only be described as overwhelming.

- The amount of help I got from my friends in packing everything up.  Yes, Kelsey has always been around to help me clean my room but this was a whole new level.  It took her, Nic, and Rachel two full days to help me throw away all of that stuff.  That's a whole new level of friendship and dedication, right there.

- Chocolate from the Chocolate Door.  I have been meaning to go to this chocolate shop in Chapel Hill for years but knew that if I did I would fall in love and never leave and curl up in a corner of the shop and get horrendously fat and die.  I wasn't wrong.  My last night in Chapel Hill we went down there and bought $17 worth of chocolate between four of us and got about $18 free from Sean (my new favorite person who I would actually marry).  It was rich and decadent and creamy and amazing on every level and completely overwhelmed my senses.

- Kelsey Merlo + ridiculous music + Rec Room = broken heart.  It's simple math, really.  Kelsey Merlo is never allowed to cry at my going away shindig ever again.  Because it breaks my heart.  And we all know that I just love Rec Room.  Between George and Casey pouring me stronger drinks than I wanted or needed (as per usual), Krysta, Anne, and Toni representing the team (!!), reminiscing about my even crazier early years at Carolina with Kels and B I don't think I could have had a better time.... or been more overwhelmed at the thought of leaving the life I managed to cobble together in NC for four years.  George and Casey get extra props for playing any ridiculous song that popped into my head.

- Being two minutes from a horrendous accident.  When I went to leave Biggs' house in Asheville to head to Sevierville for Lauren's wedding, I was already running late.  But then I left my ipod in Biggs' car and had to run inside to get her-- a task which took approximately two minutes.  An hour later, I had to slam on my brakes as a line of memorial day traffic to the smokies stopped on a dime.  We learned that two miles up ahead there had been an accident involving two big riggs, five vehicles, and countless fender benders as everyone tried to avoid the mess.  We were parked (engines off, everyone sitting on top of their cars to look at the stars, people walking in the lanes, etc.) for well over 3 hours.  As ambulances, fire trucks, police cars, and eventually coroner vans streamed past with sirens on, I couldn't help but get the overwhelming feeling that that easily could have been me.  I was two minutes roughly away from the accident.  Insanity.

- Lauren Hartweg getting married.  I haven't seen so much pure unadulterated love between two people since I watched Carrie and Curt walk down the aisle in September.  This time I didn't even have Jackie sobbing next to me to completely overshadow my tears.  It was overwhelmingly beautiful.

- This view in the middle of a 10 mile hike on the Appalachian Trail:


-Finally realizing my dream to hike part of the Appalachian Trail (even if it was a much smaller chunk than I was planning on)

- Driving through Tennessee and Virginia with my windows down and music blasting.  It felt so free.

- "Showering" in a cold river on a warm sunny day amidst the hills of Western Virginia.  It was so beautiful and unique but simultaneously reminded me so much of all of my time spent in the American that I didn't know whether to cry or laugh.  On top of that it was just to good to be clean after a couple of days on the road...

- Being taken in (yet again) by Richard and Brandee at all hours of the night.  They always just take me in with no warning and no questions asked.  I don't know what I ever did to deserve such a wonderful extended family.

- Putting my truck in storage and leaving Richard and Brandee's with just my backpack to my name.  I don't know that I've ever felt more vulnerable.  Last time I did that I was dumb.  I had a fallback plan.  I had a safety net.  Everyone rolls their eyes when I say that my time in Europe was safe and relatively scripted but I knew what I was getting into.  I had plans and the ability to get help when I needed it.  A lot of that was having reliable access to internet and other infrastructure I was accustomed to but also being connected with the CS community, etc. were all incredibly comforting.  I have no idea what to expect in Israel and beyond that I'm clueless. There's very little room for error here and we all know my propensity for error.  I've scraped by thus far but I'm not quite sure scraping by is really going to cut it this time around.

- Being medically cleared with a few restrictions on my placement and having since been asked to provide a bunch of information that I have no idea how to get organized before I leave the country.  It feels like an uphill battle to get all of this sorted out.  The follow up wants me to list all of my ag experience and emphasizes that ideal applicants have at least three months of full time farming experience.  My WWOOFing this summer apparently counts towards my experience and I worked on the student farm at CCCC but it hardly seems like it prepares me to be an extension agent in a developing country.  I'm more than a little out of my depth.

and now I'm on the most uncomfortable megabus I've ever been on with both of my knees feeling like they're being pulled out with fishing hooks on my way to New York City.... the perfect place to not be overwhelmed, I'm sure.  [yeah, there's a heavy dose of sarcasm there if you couldn't tell]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qc-vNR1D4X8&ob=av2e

"When you're lost and alone and you're sinking like a stone, Carry on. May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground and Carry on."

The ending of an era and the turning of a page

After graduation, everyone kept talking about how they wished they could just repeat those four years, do it again, be young forever, etc.  It's like no one remembered how ridiculously dumb we all were four years ago.  Remember when I let someone convince me that a bob with bangs was the way to go and this happened?

Extra bonus awful points for repping the fever shirt.... 

The point is.  I learned a lot these past four years but the biggest thing I learned is that I definitely don't want to live them all over again.  If you know me at all, you know that I love my hair.  Chopping it all off freshman year was awful and I spent the next three and some odd years growing it out.  It has been every color under the sun, has been cut, layered, braided, curled, teased, and even had a dreadlock in it for 24 hours.   But dragging all of that hair to Israel during a drought? Seems like kind of a waste of water.  Bucket baths with hair that long? Practically impossible. My gorgeous hair just doesn't fit the lifestyle I've wanted for a while now. Which brings us to this next photo series entitled "Hair: a manifestation of Arima's mental space" (dear robertson friends, kudos for appropriate use of the phrase mental space?)

Exhibit A: Long hair bearing the remnants of bright red tips done in celebration of getting into Peace Corps.  Fried, unkempt, and busy with a million different styled rolled into one.  I kind of had bangs, kind of had layers, kind of had my roots grown three inches out, kind of never brushed it so I kind of had dreads, and I kind of a mess (not in any way implying that I am somehow less of a mess a few short weeks later).  If I ever was having a bad day I could just let my hair down and hide from the world.  But actually.  There was that much of it.



Exhibit B: Weird short limbo hair.  Short enough to feel really short but long enough to annoy the crap out of my neck.  Done in some strange role reversal with Jackie Jeffrey.  We were getting a hair cut together NOT in africa and I was the one chopping all of my hair off instead of her.  Everyone still recognized me and I got called the C word ("cute") about a million and one times.  Which I loathe.  On top of that I couldn't do anything with it.  It wouldn't stay up, got messy staying down, and was somehow still three different colors.  Good for a quick vacation from practical hair but not what I needed for real life.

Exhibit C: SHORT. sweet. kind of punky.  could be a fauxhawk if I cared enough.  Which I don't because the best part of my life now is that I can wake up, pat my cowlick down (who knew I had one of those? definitely not me), pick up the 40 lbs of stuff that I own, and go wherever the heck I want to.  No preparation.  No work. No worries.  I always look great. :)

I keep having to convince myself that this is not just a break.  This is real life.  This is my life for the next several years.  Just wandering.  It feels like a dream.  

In other news, the hold has been lifted from my medical clearance which means that Peace Corps is processing my medical clearance forms as I type this.  My placement officer has been in touch with me and when I told her about my situation (i.e. leaving for Israel for a few months starting June 4), she told me she would try to get everything cleared and have me placed prior to my departure.  On top of that, she was very excited to learn that I would be WWOOFing and told me it would be great preparation for my service.... and she didn't phrase it as a possibility but more of a fact.  So it looks like this might really truly be happening.  Hopefully I will have departure dates and a country of service to tell you all soon! :)

In other other news, I will be having a bat mitzvah ceremony while I am in Israel.  After being a practicing Jew for a year and a half, I suppose it's about time and I couldn't be more excited.  Also, I finally settled on a Hebrew name (something I've been thinking about since yom kippur).  It's still really weird for me to talk about my faith or to identify as religious but I'm just going to take this and all of the other ridiculous happenings in my life one step at a time.

-יעל

Ridiculous is a Style...

When it comes to graduation, don't let anyone tell you I didn't go out with style... because ridiculous is definitely a style.  The big ceremony went without a hitch and was even relatively entertaining with Mayor Bloomberg taking the NC community to task for passing amendment one.  It was a proud moment seeing my class lead a standing ovation in support of equality and justice.  I was almost equally proud when he told us that when life gets hard and we feel that G-d isn't looking out for us to remember that in our freshman year we witnessed a National Championship and our senior year saw Dook lose in the first round to a 15 seed (!).  The trouble came at the department graduation.

The UNC Institute for the Environment graduated about 10 B.A. and 20 B.S. candidates as well as two doctoral candidates at Reeves Auditorium in the NC Botanical Garden.  Reeves Auditorium is a long room with a bank of windows to the audiences left that was just big enough to hold the 150 audience members.  The front "stage" area was a small cleared space for four seats for faculty and a podium.  The graduates stood in the back.  The front and the back were connected by an incredibly narrow aisle down the middle of the audience.

If you know me at all, you know that I do not like it when people stare at me.  Especially large crowds of people.  Yeah I might be loud and outgoing but I don't like being a spectacle.  So this was pretty much my worst nightmare.  Or at least that's what I thought when I thought I was going to have to walk out there once to get my diploma.  But I ended up having to walk twice.  I unexpectedly received an award for Dedication to Education and had to walk down that long, long aisle with everyone staring at me.  The clapping had subsided by the time I had gotten halfway down the aisle and had to finish my walk red-faced and in silence.  Then began the long walk back with cameras flashing and still in utter silence.  Needless to say, by the time I rejoined my class I was shaking, sweating, and near tears due to acute embarrassment and nervousness.

Almost immediately we filed out of the room and into a side hallway.  We were lined up to walk and receive our diplomas and just expected to figure out our route.  I was the third name called and I walked out staring pretty pointedly at the ground.  I received my diploma and shook Greg Ganges' hand and gave Amy Cooke a hug.  At this point I was halfway across the front of the room and needed to turn to my left and walk up the aisle to the back of the room.  But I was too embarrassed and nervous to turn and look at the audience.

Instead. I just kept walking.  I picked a door in the wall of windows and just went straight for it.  Someone had to move their kid out of the way so that I could leave.  And no one said a word.  Everyone just stared at me.  The worst was the sound of the door as it slammed behind me.  Then I realized I hadn't even escaped because the entire wall was windows.  So I walked around hoping that at any moment I could melt into the ground and slipped into the back of the room with everyone else.  The girl who walked in front of me just turned around and was asked, "so... um... where did you think you were going?".  "It was just time to leave."

When the ceremony was over, I went to go talk to my family and I could tell they were all trying really really hard to hold in their laughter.  Which lasted all of five seconds.  So while everyone else hugged their family, took pictures, and listened to their parents talk about how proud of them they were, I laughed with my family until tears ran down all of our faces.  You know those stories that you say you'll laugh about later?  This was nothing like that.  Because it was hilarious pretty immediately.

I was right though.  Sometimes it's just time to leave.  And now's that time.  It's been great, Carolina.... but  I'm OUT.

Letter to Me

You would think that cleaning my room in preparation for my family's (and alex's) arrivals would be made appreciably easier by selling all of my things.  However, you would be wrong.  So when I was frantically cleaning (read: Kelsey was saving my butt again), I wasn't paying much attention to what was being thrown away.  It was 99.9% class notes that I couldn't take with me so who cares?  Something made me look through the pockets of one notebook, though, and I'm so glad I did because it was May 9th.

In the pocket of my notebook was a letter I had written to myself which said on the outside "Open May 10, 2012... no sooner, no later".

I didn't remember writing this letter but I had in December and it was everything I needed to hear.  One of the points in it was to remember the people who had gotten me to that point and to remember how loved I am.  Of course, this is naturally a time to be grateful for those who have helped you along the way and who care for you as well as a time to be sad to leave them as you each search for a new adventure.  As I sat pondering these terribly cliché thoughts I became overwhelmed in my attempts to list everyone.  Here's what I came up with:

1. My family:  If you want to talk about cliché, this is the mother of them all (pun intended) but it's so often appropriate and necessary.  I have been incredibly privileged in my life and not just because of the things that were afforded me in my childhood or the opportunity at higher education etc. etc.  Looking back I can see how clearly my parents have always wanted the best for me.  Even when I became serious about Peace Corps and traveling and being generally reckless.  I can see how uncomfortable my plans make them and how they worry for me.  But instead of trying to change my mind they have always always supported my decision.  And my brother.  I've always looked up to brodre and anyone who knows me knows that I adore him.  I may give him crap.  All the time.  But whenever I hear people talk about their siblings and fights they had or rivalries - petty things as kids.... I think back on all of the times when bro would do just about anything to make me smile.  And that's just the immediate family.  Most people aren't as privileged to have the network of vivacious, caring, talented people who I have supporting me.  Blessing doesn't even begin to describe any of it.

2. My sisters:  I'm not great at rugby.  I know it.  Everyone knows it.  I try but land is just not my forté.  Last Spring I was discouraged, beat down, timid, getting over culture shock, missing my family from SFS, and felt alienated by many friends I had had before studying abroad.  One very sunny Saturday, a discussion with Holly and Kimber, and a cold Tuesday practice changed everything.  I know I brok down a lot over this past year and a half with you all.  I freaked out for no reason.  Complained nonstop.  Did crazy things (which you all remind me about constantly!).  But somehow (against all odds) you all managed to pull me through this past year and a half with some semblance of sanity still intact.  In the process you also gave me the confidence (and general badassery) I needed to take over my life.  Special shoutout to roommate and other roommate (who is clearly a part of uncwrfc) for being on call.

3. Kelskels and C Nasty: I know I said later but now that it's later I find I can't put into words what you both have done for me.  Y'all coming over to help me clean my room is actually pretty representative of what you do with every aspect of my life.  When I let everything fall into disrepair and chaos, you pick it all back up and help me toss the ridiculous bits of waste that are fouling up my life.  You are my conscience and my drive and have somehow stuck with me the longest out of anyone.  I love you both and your endless supply of cookie dough (!) more than you know.

4. SFS: The SFS curriculum showed me my passion for ecology.  The staff opened my eyes to cross cultural understanding.  The stunning lanscapes and cultures of East Africa touched my heart and soul and opened my eyes to a holiness and symmetry in the world that is unspeakably beautiful.  The biggest lesson of all, however, came when we switched sites and were forced to interact with the other cohort.  More than all of the life changing experiences, SFS gave me a family that grew with me and supported me during one of the most formative times of my life.  Any time- night or day- if I call any corner of the world, I can find one of you who will drop everything to listen to me tell bad jokes or rant about my life or reminisce.  Barratt once said that when she met me she thought I was cool and interesting.  I was shocked.  Mostly because I still don't even understand why any of them would talk to me.  Each and every person from our group had an incredible and unique voice.  The support I had and continue to have from Chui West brightens even the darkest day and, a little closer to home, R. Norman never fails to drag me to my feet every time I stumble.  I could not be more proud of all of the amazing things you are all doing with your lives.  It means so much to me that we have stayed in touch this past year and a half.  I should be returning to Africa close to the two year anniversary of meeting you all and I will carry you all with me when I go.

5. Amanda Bray, Alex Adams, Roro, and other late night call fielders: My friends from California have the unique privilege of hearing from me in the wee hours of the morning (my time) as I sort through my most recent crisis.   Yay time differences! But no matter if they were sleeping (Amanday Kay Bray), just getting home from work (Alex Adams), or at a party (Rohan Viswanathan), they always stopped what they were doing to try to piece together what was happening in NC and try to fix it.  Or just listen to me babble about how I needed to pretend to be on the phone with someone local as I walked down a shady alley or street.

6. Amy Cooke:  Saying that a certain class, professor, or adviser changed my life is almost as trite as... well... everything else on this list.  But if any particular faculty member at Carolina changed my life, it was Amy Cooke.  I remember walking into Afri266 and hearing her credentials in the sciences and thinking to myself "man, I need to drop this class ASAP".  But then she began talking about her Peace Corps experiences and her love of plants and the soil and growing things.  She talked about balancing this love with a love of people and a value for their experience.  She talked about cultural bias and African development in ways I had never considered them.  I wanted to be her.  Luckily we have such similar dispositions.  Everyone who knows us both has at one point told me that they see me becoming much like Dr. Cooke and I cannot imagine a better compliment.

7. George:  I came up to George and told him about my life during a rugby social.  A rugby social.  It was just a chat but it was enough to gain a true friend.  Then, when I felt trapped in NC economically and needed work, he got me a job that I had no qualifications for at a bar.  He just wanted us all to have a good time and make a little cash while we were at it.  George is just such a genuinely great guy with such a firm belief in karma and community.  Since I'm leaving, this is the last way that I can even hope to repay a fraction of what I owe you for your kindness--- Everyone go to Rec Room and Players.  Meet George and give him all your money! Drink a bunch in the process! It will be the best decision you ever make :)

8. Punya:  Texas A&M was hard.  It was overwhelming.  I was suddenly expected to be an adult and to work a real job and to do work that had a real impact on the world.  I was learning new things and embarrassed by everything I had to be taught.  Punya's patience and friendship changed me more than I knew at the time.  She taught me how to deal with real life pressures without growing up.  Her levity and bubbly nature, and balance with true professionalism are traits I aspire to.

9. AD:  The athletic department at UNC was my first Carolina family and truly made me appreciate this state and being a Tar Heel.  I know that the basketball museum is cheesy (and that they changed it recently. boo.) but it was mostly Angie, Kathy, and Clara that taught me what it was to be north carolinian.  The invitations I got to Thanksgiving and staff parties made me feel so much less lost in my freshman year at Carolina.  I only wish I had gotten to spend my senior year with them all as well.

10. Phi Sig:  Though I drifted apart from Phi Sig my senior year when the drama became too much for me, Phi Sigma Pi - Alpha Kappa Chapter was my family for four years.  They were my first true support system and were there for me when I was at my most ridiculous.  My big and my first little (Annie and Kevin) were especially helpful for getting through a very rough time in my life.  Watch out for both of them.  They're doing amazing things.  May Hathcock, Charlie Hodgens, Cheng Cai, Morgan Beggs, etc.  were also integral in supporting my my freshman and sophomore years and I am grateful to anyone who could have put up with that for so many years.


Tomorrow I am going to write a new letter to myself.  Something to reread after Israel.  For now, I just need to take in this long and not even close to comprehensive list of my closest family and friends and try to wrap my head around how luck I have been to have these people to help me

GRADUATE!

As much as you all might say you are proud of me, I can promise you all that I am probably much more proud of you.

Planning May Not Be My Strong Suit but This is Getting Ridiculous

I have been fortunate to get work with memorial these last few days that I'm in town and the easiest work I've ever had at memorial.  I worked 12 hours yesterday (of which I moved at all for maybe 1.5 hours of it).  I work 6.5 hours today and Kacee and Jess did all the heavy lifting before I even got here (and by heavy lifting I mean chair moving).  So all I had to do was plop down in a comfy chair and start actually thinking about what I'm getting ready to do.  And about how soon it is.  And about how little I have planned.

I am in the process of having my passport expedited so I still can't sign up for WWOOF Israel (as they require an updated passport number) but I CAN browse all of the potential hosts and drool over the prospects.  So many seem awesome that I just want to spend two weeks each at two or three of them but I know that it might be equally beneficial to just pick one and really engage with that host.  One really appealing site is a farm in the desert right on the dead sea.  They have a small desert farm but a large herd of GOATS.  You get free room and board for only 6 hours of work 6 days a week and in your down time you can hike, ride horses (also free), ride a bike down to the dead sea, etc. At night they run a small local pub which is also free to partake of as a volunteer.  If I could just live a life of goats and beer forever I think I might be happy with that.  Goats. and. Beer.  A girl can dream.  There are countless other sites with decidedly less beer that look incredible too, though.  

Site selection is complicated by the fact that I might need consistent internet to get things settled with Peace Corps.  I know that if I get my placement after I leave I will need to get passport and visa forms filed and I don't quite know how that might work if I'm living in the desert in Israel.  I keep having to remind myself that these are good problems and worries to have.  

As for Peace Corps preparation- is it even possible?  I've read every single blog on Peace Corps Journals about West Africa since mid-2011 and what I've read has run from thrilling cultural exchange to frustration to boredom to homesickness and beyond.  I know that this is to be expected and that everyone feels all of this at one point or another during their Peace Corps experience but what I don't know is how to prepare myself if I do, in fact, get my placement for September.  I feel like my agricultural skills are not where I would like them to be to be helpful and my French definitely needs improvement but aside from studying in these areas, can you really prepare for any of this?

I've been resisting making plans thus far due to a combination of sheer lack of time and reticence to cultivate expectations.  But now it's crunch time.  There's no more time for hesitation or resting.  I've always been pretty good at flying by the seat of my pants in the past but my love of chaos is getting a little ridiculous.  Monday after my 24 hour vacation will hopefully see me checking off a long to do list of planning items. 

[not to mention selling more things and preparing for my FAMILY TO COME INTO TOWN for graduation!]

Just a Shade Less Up in the Air

For the tiny but elite class of my friends who are getting all of their updates from me via blog and not facebook (ahem- Mrs. Gaynor) I had to update twice in a 12 hour period... but it's necessary because after the selling spree that has been my life for the past day or so, I received an email from Peace Corps updating my application status.

To under review.

For those of you who are saying "but, Arima, I thought you said you already got into Peace Corps? You're such a lying liar face".  I got nominated to a program.  A program within Peace Corps that would leave in September for Africa, specified that I should brush up on my French, and would work with agricultural extension.  This means that if I pass my evals they can place me within that program.  Since there are so few ag specialists applying (as evidence by the fact that way after the Fall deadline they were advertising for farmers online) there's a very good chance of getting a placement once nominated and if you are nominated and don't get a placement for one program you can always get placed in another.

Now for most people this tiny change in my status wouldn't be super exciting but here's why it IS exciting:

1) I've wanted to serve in the Peace Corps since I was twelve.  When you've been anticipating something this long, any progress is good progress.

2) My medical portion is being reviewed but my Dental and my Legal steps are already clear which means they're on my last evaluation.

3) They evaluate in order of precedence based on when people are leaving.  Since there are so many applications everything is rushed which means that they can't get to any of the med reviews (the lengthiest step) sooner than four months before intended departure.  I take it as a sign that my review is relatively important since they got to it almost exactly at the four month mark.  I've heard accounts of people not being reviewed until way way later.

4) DID I MENTION THAT THIS IS THE LAST STEP BEFORE PLACEMENT?!?!

Everything's so close.  For the first time in my life I'm tempted to literally pinch myself.  Two degrees and a minor from two different institutions, a plane ticket in my name for Israel on June 4, and now I'm inches away from a placement with the Peace Corps.  Clearly I'm dreaming.

Step 1: Get Rid of Anything and Everything Holding You to the Ground

Today I decided to sell everything.

It's something I've been thinking about for a while.  It makes sense.  I can't take anything with me.  I mean maybe a few things I need for Israel or can wear in Israel that are either useless or inappropriate for the Peace Corps and vice versa but for the most party I can have 50 lbs of stuff.  Nothing more.  And I will be gone for so long that it hardly seems worth it to keep it all in storage.  How much of it will I actually want after 3 months in Israel and 27 months (with the very real possibility of extending to 51 months) in West Africa with the Peace Corps?  And plus.  I need all the money I can get for this adventure so liquidating my assets is just generally a good idea.

However, there's a huge difference between deciding that it would be a good move to sell all of your possessions and actually deciding to do it.  An even bigger difference between that and advertising the sale of all of your possessions to everyone you know.

It hit me about when my desk was leaving my room to my friend Danielle's car with my favorite collection of e.e.cummings poems and a stack of my clothes (for the low low price of $35) that this was absolutely insane.  I was raised in a home.  A fixed location full of my wonderful loving family and a lot of things that I was told we needed to live.  We left but we always came back.  When I moved it was to another fixed location.  Perhaps these years of slowly moving to shorter and shorter leases was preparation.  Maybe I should have gotten used to it when I was hitching around Europe or setting up my bandas in Moyo Hill or KBC (in East Africa) but I never trained for this.  I never trained for a 50 lb bag for 4.5 years.  As I am now, I just can't do that.

Looking at it logically, I know I will accumulate plenty of crap in that time and that after 51 months in one place I will be doing the same mad scramble.  But that will be half a world and a lifetime of experiences away.  The things that you "need" here are not the same there.  It finally hit me as I looked at that big empty space where my desk used to be that everything is going to be so different.  Yeah the food will be different and the language and the people but, more importantly, I'm going to have to be different too.

The necessity for adjustment, patience, and adaptation has never seemed more real and it's terrifying.  I've been wildly alternating between exhilaration and horror for the past few hours as my things and the memories that go with them have been flying out of my room.  Just when I was starting to panic, a little bubble appeared on my laptop window with a face I haven't seen in a long long time.  Since her wedding, in fact.

Carry GAYNOR was online.  For real real online.  And lucky me got to talk to her.  She was so thrilled for me to get rid of everything holding me down.  And her excitement was contagious.  In between listening to that beautiful laugh that all of us from SFS love so much and telling her all of my insane stories (the woman is just so darn patient with my ridiculous self) I let it all sink in.  And I'm okay with it.  I'm okay with the distinct lack of plans and I trust myself and my skills to get myself through this.  I'm ready to change.  Moreover, I'm excited to change.

I've been reading loads of blogs about Peace Corps experiences to get me ready for this and one girl wrote that most Peace Corps volunteers are running from something.  I'm sure I'm running from a whole heck of a lot but hopefully I'm running towards something as well.  At the urging of the wonderful Carrie, I've started this blog of my own.  Hopefully two or three years from now a terrified up and coming volunteer can read this post and not feel so overwhelmed by this whole process.  Knowing what the rest of my posts are probably going to be like (based on my life thus far), they will still be terrified.  But hey.

Step one to flying is removing anything holding you to the ground.... so everyone come buy my stuff!