Travel's Eve

It's like right when I think I'm ready to go and everything is packed up tightly in its proper position, I come up with yet another thing I'm missing or something that's in the wrong place or something I have but don't need or something that I already have but don't know that I have or something that will get me arrested at the airport and detained indefinitely until the entire trip is over and all of my worrying about packing will have been for naught! You see, even preparing for this trip has driven me insane. The last thing I want to happen is forget a pair of underwear, because I'm certain that the Italian underwear will not be sufficient for my large American stature. No worries though, I triple checked the underwear.

So people have been asking me, "what are you looking forward to the most?" And I'm like... Well. Is it wrong to say that I have absolutely no idea? I know nothing about Italy. I haven't done the readings that our professors assigned us yet (oops)... Thus I am horribly uncultured. The closest I've come go anything Italy is papa johns pizza. Or that Disney movie Ratatouille. Yes, I know, I am a moron. For this reason, I will not be giving my professors the address to this blog. Sorry, fellas. That would mean censoring my real feelings and my honest, good-for-nothing-Italian-related thoughts. And i just can't do that. I guess if I have to answer what I look forward to most, I would say that I'm excited to become friends with my fellow classmates and experience a new culture with them as we learn to get along with and deal with each other. All girls. I'm not so moronic as to think I will get along with all of them or like every person (I am human after all), but surely out of 25 or however many there are, I will make one friend. And that is enough! Just as long as I don't have to roam (or "Rome"...lol) the streets alone and get abducted like that one chick in Taken, then I'll be just fine. I've been told my street knowledge is equivalent to that of a newborn infant child. Because this is true, I think maybe I should hire body guards and travel in a wolf pack of sorts, making me safe while also giving off the impression that I am important. Fear me, Venice!

And now, after a morning full of tragic goodbyes and suitcase catastrophes, I sit in the airport and ponder over the best ways to waste away the two hours before my flight. And then, even worse, how to waste the ten or so hours on the plane. Is it even ten hours? I don't know. Guess I'll find out when homeboy on the plane tells me. By homeboy, I mean pilot. And by pilot, I mean the individual who holds my life in his his hands as we traverse the Atlantic. We, as patrons of US Airways, preemptively salute you, sir, for not killing us.

I'm gonna go ahead and tell you right now, mom and dad, I'm thinking I'll probably get some sort of weird ear piercing or something while I'm there... And I do have that screwed up white tattoo on my wrist that needs to be covered up/replaced. At least I'm warning you this time! I'm 21 and I'm stupid and I'm trying to saturate myself with all sorts of recklessness and adventure before it's too late! That means piercings. Love you guys!

I look forward to writing about something of substance... But for now, this is all that I have. Time for food. Boarding in an hour. Party time.