It's the Final Countdown

At 7 am this morning, I woke up to the sight of my 500 lbs. of luggage. That's when it hit me like a brick wall. I am leaving tomorrow morning, and not coming back for at the very least 6 months. I have a bad habit of planning far too much in advance, and I'm hoping my escape to the laid back french lifestyle will cure this issue. As most people know, when you plan, it never tends to go the way you wanted. Multiply this by about a million, and you have the situations I often land myself in. Not that I can complain however, I believe a life that is nothing as you planned is a better life all in all.

Another theory that struck me this morning. I was wondering exactly what was nerve wracking about this specific situation. I'm not so afraid of finding an apartment in Paris in under 10 days, or grocery shopping in a completely foreign country, or even testing my language skills to the max. I think the scariest part is what I'm going to miss out on here in the United States. My beloved roommates are going to continue to have movie/sushi nights, stumble around our crazy city, visit Yoni's Lounge, and make grilled cheese on the foreman. My boyfriend Bobby is staying behind, starting to make plans for a possible move to Baltimore this summer. How many movie nights, near decapitations by a frisbee, and dates at the gym am I going to miss? And then finally my family, most certainly my baby.

Yep, that's her. She's the hardest to leave, because she has no idea what the hell is going on. However, even my parents notice how close she stays to my feet, and how often she jumps into my arms when she sees those suitcases roll out. Once I return from my trip, I finally be able to settle into my apartment with her. But for now, I just have to finish what needs to be done. She'll be in the care of Grandma and Grandpa until then. Haha.

My parents are an entirely different story. My dad has asked me probably 14 times a day if I'm ready to go. "Yep Dad," I respond each time. And each time, a lecture ensues of what safety precautions I should take, etc. I know for a fact Dad will be on that airport floor crying in the fetal position, but don't worry; I'll include photos. Haha, he's funny, and very worried about me. Opposite of my Dad, my mom just pretends I'm not going, and doesn't even mention my trip much. They both worry about the news stories they see, whether it concerns airplanes or metros getting stuck in the English Channel.

My Mom's reaction was relatively similar to my boyfriend's. He refused to talk about it, I guess assuming it wouldn't come as fast if we didn't discuss what was going on. Well, I'm a talker, so that shit doesn't fly. So, once I beat it out of him (just kidding:P), we talked about the future, what we're going to do. He gave me a Kay Jeweler's box 2 weeks ago, and I about shit my pants. Don't worry, just a promise ring. I'm less than ready for any engagement, and we talked about exactly what it meant to us. We don't know what's going to happen in the future, I have a lot of goals and things I need to do. I want to get an apartment with my girlfriends, obtain a stable career in law enforcement, go skydiving, travel, and get a few more years of experience under my belt before any decisions are made. And that's exactly what is so great about him, he understands that. He tells me he's more than willing to wait and see what happens. So that's what were doing, and it's comforting to know he's supportive of my crazy ass goals.

So, tomorrow morning at 4am after a restless night of sleep, I'll get out of bed. I'll walk through the house, and make sure I have EVERYTHING that I need for the next 6 months. I'll watch my boyfriend sleep (yep, big creeper), feed the dogs for the last time for a while, and probably scramble of some sort of blog as I have a mental breakdown. My parents will wake up annoyed as they here me rumbling through the kitchen, and finally get up. I assume my boyfriend will get up with me, since I will need someone to listen to me whine. Haha.

Then, we'll all load into a car along with all my shit, hopefully avoiding anyone falling on there ass at 7am (it's a bit icy). We'll meet friends and family at a local diner, so that I can stuff my face with a short stack of banana pancakes with whipped cream on top. I've been sure to target all of my favorite foods the last couple weeks, chinese, outback blooming onion, homemade potato soup, bbq pulled pork sandwiches, homemade scallops and salmon, among an array of homemade christmas desserts and all the banana bread I want. Thankfully, Bobby and I worked out at the local gym a good amount to avoid too much holiday buldge (but considering I'll be purchasing all my own food, I assume the first few weeks will be a weight loss program of it's own. With this thought in mind my mom has continued to stuff me full).

It's the final countdown (Europe=80's hair band), and I will be sure to update you all on any hilarity that ensues in the morning. Bon voyage tout le monde!