Wheels Up

Dear followers, I write to you from an altitude of 33,000 feet (though I suppose I should begin thinking in terms of meters these days). I opted for the group flight package, which will place me in London for three days to gawk with the other tourists before flying into Shannon on Tuesday. I had hoped to make a post a week or so ago. However, in order to capture the days immediately preceding departure, I decided to put it off until that perfect point between preparation and initiation. What better place than the flight? 

The main theme with which I must paint the previous weeks is anxiety. There have been documents to sign and checklists to complete, prescriptions to fill and shopping to be done. Anxiety about forgetting important things and missing important people, about plunging into new social groups and living quarters. Even anxiety about loving it all too much to come back! And the consistent pause following that question, "So, are you excited?"

"Uh. I think so!"

I didn't know for a while. 

One small distraction from the anticipation was a few days last week when family flew down to celebrate my twenty first birthday with me. That's right, after years of stowing handles of liquor under my bed and confiscated fake IDs, I have finally reached the legal age...five days before arriving in a country where I could have bought a Guinness three years ago. Nonetheless, they all made quite a fuss over my departure, complete with a cheesy Irish themed birthday party with shamrock cupcakes. My mother even made a board on which to tape "limericks" that guests were invited to write for me. I must say I felt loved, while also feeling quite embarrassed for them.

This same party introduced a very important passenger on this journey. The handsome amphibian pictured here is Liam, my new travel companion. He was given to me by my aunt, who's son received a similar companion named Gordon from my mother on the eve of his travels in England. Gordon's cousin can be found in several of the pictures to be featured in future blog posts. 

While nothing makes me feel more grown up than shamrock confetti and tiny green top hats, I decided a proper pub crawl was in order to consummate the milestone. A road trip down to College Station to join a few friends in the festivities of "Gig'em week" proved to go more smoothly than anyone could have expected with a car full of college students and a campus full of partying frat boys (no one even threw up!  Well, almost no one). 

In fact, the entirety of the short downhill slide from birthday to departure was rather uneventful. Do not be fooled, my nerves have managed to wring my dry daily. But I found packing to be cathartic. Besides, there are few things that a meal at Texas de Brazil and a very cliché viewing of P.S I Love You can't cure. 

This morning I awoke and looked out the window of my childhood bedroom for the last time, thinking how many different views I will wake to in the coming months. I decided to start a collection of window pictures. Every time I wake up in a new place, a photo of the window will find its way into my next post. (Pardon the curtains in this one, I did not pick them out). 

My Last Meal consisted of chicken wings and spring rolls from my favorite Asian restaurant, and the saltiest, greasiest, cheesiest Texas cheese fries I could find. I hear that I will find European food quite bland. 

A quiet car ride later, it was time to bid farewell to my rather concerned parents. I must say, those tearful goodbyes in movies are nothing like reality. If you've ever had someone walk you to the security barrier, you know that your parting consists of an emotional hug and last words, followed by a half hour of TSA procedures during which you periodically glance over at them, while they stare at you. Smile and wave. Smile and wave. Make a funny face. There's only so many longing looks people can manage, and by the time you're out of sight you're glad to be finished with the whole ordeal. After thoroughly embarrassing myself in the security line by forgetting to remove my laptop and my belt, and momentarily panicking that my suitcase had been stolen before remembering I had checked it, I finally waved an (actual) final goodbye to them, turned around and felt...relief. 

After so much conversation and anticipation, I am alone in this journey for the first time. But aren't we all, really? You come into the world alone, you leave the same way, and the time between (though it's easy to forget) is yours to make something wonderful of. 

And what I find the most surprising, is that anxiety could not be farther from my mind. Actually the longer this flight drags on, the less nervous I am, and the more I wish they'd start serving dinner to the economy passengers. 

To making it count, friends.