I'm leaving in two days!?

Dear God. I'm so anxious I can't even sleep anymore. I literally haven't slept through the night since the beginning of August.

Okay, enough whining. I was thinking about some things today that I hadn't really given much thought to before (unusual considering that's all I've done all summer but anyway). I wonder if I'm more comfortable around people when I'm in England? The last time I was there, I made some friends pretty much out of the blue that I still keep in touch with. I have no idea how it happened as I've become used to thinking of myself as difficult to like/be friends with. <-- low self esteem is showing, please excuse.

It comes from the fact that most people I know here have been pretty rotten friends. I'm sure part of it is me; I never feel comfortable, or settled, or permanent. I just realized that I always seem to be looking for the next big move, the next big 'change of pace' so to speak. I grew up moving house to house: we'd never lived anywhere longer than 6 years, and this is my 6th year in Georgia. I shake my head every time I remember that.

When I'm in England, I don't worry about trying to go elsewhere, trying to find a 'new' way of life, or a change of pace or another something or other, I'm happy with what is, and where I am. When I get off the plane and go right through on the passport line while the immigration queue stretches out behind me, I don't feel like a foreigner in a strange land, I feel like a citizen. And just a bit smug. When I come back to the US, I get finger printed and retina scanned. I stand in line shaking like a leaf in a high gale in case they decide they don't like my face and the immigration officers want to "have a word" with me. I've lived here all my life, and it's always been like that.

So maybe that's why it's easier to relax and make friends knowing that I don't need a green card to stay, that I was born here, that you can go by the hospital that welcomed me into the world. That you can see the house I was brought home to. I can introduce you to my cousins, aunts, and uncles- appendages I believed I did not have for the majority of my life. I was always lonely growing up, lonely and isolated, and ferociously obsessed with the idea that I was an alien, a foundling, a witch, an 'other', anything but a person that belonged. Because I never felt like I did.

My mum says my accent changes when I'm in England because of psychological reasons. I'd agree. I have no idea how or why at my age I'm still able to sound like I've never set foot in America when I've only been in England for 2 months, but psychological sounds about right. I think I've always missed fitting in, and when confronted with a place that seems to fit all my quirks, and oddities and turn them into perfectly normal preferences, I relax. And my brain rewires itself or something. By month 3, the accent in my head is Londoner. I'm not a science project, so I'm not going to dissect it, but I've always been pretty embarrassed about it. It makes me squirm like I'm faking it or something, but I couldn't if I tried. I've always picked up what I heard (after 6 years in Georgia, my "y'all" is perfect.) but it's like England picks me up. It attaches itself to me like a burr.

I cried the last time I left. In Heathrow. Like someone had died. It was totally humiliating. I couldn't help myself. I thought about going back to the US, to the coldness and isolation I felt whenever I left my house there, and I just couldn't cope with it. <-- Humiliation. More humiliation.

My accommodation at Uni has been officially secured! I didn't realize how much stress not having accommodation settled yet was causing me. I'm a little further away from campus then I previously thought I'd be, but to be honest, I don't think that's going to be much of a problem.

Spent today packing for the most part - or repacking rather, since I'd basically tossed all my winter clothes into suitcases and that was pretty much it. I had to add most of my essentials in. Now that things are actually getting done, I feel like time's moving a little faster- just two more weeks now from today!

Thanks so much to everyone who's been keeping up with my blog! I definitely plan to keep writing (and keep hanging out on BE) once I'm back! I'm already suuuuper looking forward to posting my flight in the flight tracker (YES!) I feel like I should wait a couple weeks since it might be a bit (read: very) premature to post with a full three weeks still to go (or thereabouts).

It feels like it's been August 21 for a month already, so I know I must be past excitement and gravitating towards sheer pandemonium where my upcoming flight is concerned. Looking at iCal actually irritates me because it keeps showing me more weeks than I really think there should be! I've hung on for all of 8 months from start to finish in terms of organizing this, so I think I'm doing pretty well.

I guess what spurred this post was the fact that my parents have been looking increasingly shifty whenever September is mentioned. Neither of them will make eye contact, and they start looking for something to do - not even changing the subject, just not wanting to talk at all. It's kind of put a strange awkwardness around my excitement because I can really only share it here. We still have to weigh my suitcases so that we can make sure we're within the 50lb limit, and that's needed doing since the end of July.

*sigh* I do understand how it is for them, they want me to be excited and happy, but at the same time their youngest is jumping ship- pretty much out of the blue. It's that kind of thing that makes me feel guilty. That and knowing how hard it will be for my mum. She and I are extremely close, and she just doesn't handle big changes well. Knowing that I'm not in driving distance anymore isn't going to be easy for her. My dad's agreed to cut his hours at work down to keep her company for the first few months so that she can adjust more slowly and cope. It seriously feels like I'm the worst daughter ever when I think about it. And what's even worst is that deep down I know that no matter what happens this year, I don't want to come back.

Ye gods. That sounds absolutely horrific. But I told my dad straight: if it wasn't for the two of them, I'd kiss this place goodbye in a heartbeat.

Exactly one month from my birthday I'll be back in England.

OMG.

SO EXCITED! There's a ton of things I want to do, I've got three- count 'em- three! To-do lists, I'm mostly packed, just a few more things, and I'm climbing the walls with pent up energy! Here we go! The final countdown!

I haven't posted in a while because literally all I've been doing for the last 6.5 months is waiting. In fact, it feels like that's all I've been doing my entire life.

Waiting for what? Well, this I think. Every day at 10pm I sigh a little and think: one down, just a few more to go. I can't express the level of excitement, dread, and just sheer eagerness that has possessed my soul in the last few weeks. It's so much that I almost don't notice it anymore. But every so often, it wells up and it's like this flood of emotion that leaves me feeling quite drained and tired by the end of it.

It's been bucketing here in Georgia, and we've been keeping indoors mostly because of the heat as well, but we've managed to begin shopping to purchase all the bits and pieces I'm going to need, solidify our shipping strategy complete with plan Bs, and pack 3 suitcases. It's helped a little with the overwhelming feelings that threaten to have me start to scream one day and not stop until September. Oh, yes: We've booked my ticket. We've booked my ticket. We've actually booked my ticket.

On the day of Booking (henceforth called) I really thought I was going to get out of my seat, go up stairs, and wake up in England. Not quite so fast, but it made it so real.All this time there's been this strange little doubt in the back of my mind, this feeling that this wasn't really going to happen, that somehow I wasn't really going to go, that there were still so many choices to be made before I could really go etc. etc., and booking my ticket shut it up. Thank you Lord.