Getting here.

Here are the highlights from my Dallas - Paris adventure:

1. Linda -- I was lucky enough to be seated next to her on my flight from Dallas to D.C. She made me laugh almost the whole way. 

2. Icelandair -- What a funny little airline! The plane was pretty much covered with Iceland tidbits. From the lullaby on my pillow to the language/etiquette tips on the seats, I learned more than I ever expected to about the country (including the fact that the prime minister is listed in the phone book, and about half the country's population believes in elves). Also, the flight attendants pretty much looked like Nordic Barbies...they smiled a lot, but still managed to have an expression that convinced me I should not mess with them. That's partially why I don't have a picture. I was scared to ask. That, and it probably would have been creepy.

You might think this would've helped me sleep. But you could be wrong.

I'm sorry to say I wasn't brave enough to apply this information during my hour in Iceland.

3. Night flights -- I am absolutely no good at sleeping on planes. A handful of half hour segments were the best I could do. Lame.

The whole thing was relatively smooth and pretty easy. Then I left Charles de Gaulle and it went downhill quick. But more on that later.

  

Leave.

"And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it? 

It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out. 

I want to repeat one word for you: 
Leave. 

Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed." 


-Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts


   

Feels like home.

I love Baylor.

I must have said that a hundred times today. Since we're flying out of DFW, I got to spend today in Waco, walking around campus and marveling at how much it's changed in the short year I've been gone. But it still feels like home. I also had the privilege of hanging out with my brother and visiting with a handful of friends.

What a sweet, sweet time. There was so much laughing involved. And so many encouraging words. I seriously have the best friends in the world.

So thanks to Jamin, Lacey, Austin, Alexis, Phil and Adam for making my last full day (and a half) in the States an absolute joy. I'm going to miss you all so, so much.

I'll miss you too, Pat Neff--especially when you're green.

   

My bags are packed. I'm ready to go.

I don't really mind packing. I kind of enjoy it, actually. It combines several of the things I love, like making lists and being strategic (yes, I'm that girl).

Because of baggage fees, small trains, weak arms, etc., my mom and I are each taking only one suitcase to the UK. (Except I kind of get both of them, since she packed most everything she'd need in her carry on. Thanks mom!) That means one (ish) suitcase for everything I'm expecting to need during my year at Kingston. Granted, I plan on shipping a couple boxes later, but still. It's not much.

But you would not believe how much I've stuffed into those suitcases. I'm gonna look like Mary Poppins when I take everything out of there. It's kind of amazing, if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, my superb packing abilities have led to one tiny little problem: weight.

I'm not allowed more than 50lbs per bag. I could easily fit 70lbs in there. (Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but not much of one.) So I've been playing a couple of games I'd like to call, "What Weighs More?" and "Suitcase Shuffle." Packing, weighing, unpacking, prioritizing, repacking, weighing, and on, and on, and on.

But I think I've finally got it right, which is a good thing.

Because I leave tomorrow.

 

It must be love.

There are things I know I'll miss next year. Things like my friends, my family and driving on the right (read: correct) side of the road. But I was recently reminded of something else. A something else that is very near to my heart. College football. And my oh my, what a great reminder it was.

I hope, for your sake, that you didn't miss the Baylor v. TCU game last night. Actually, if you're television-owning American and you're alive, I'm not sure you could have. And for good reason. Not only was it the only game on, it was stellar. A great game. High-energy, high-scoring (albeit often low-defending), and so fun to watch. Plus, Baylor won, and Lord knows I love my Bears.

            (Which is why I don't mind how blatantly one-sided this highlight reel is.)

Did it give me a heart attack? Well, sure. More than once. Did I yell at the television? Until I was hoarse. Was I really, really sad I wasn't in Waco to see it live? Duh.

                                                         (I can get a little excited.)

But I loved every minute of it. (Except for the majority of that ugly, ugly fourth quarter, but whatevs. No harm done, right?)

Afterward, I realized something. There is no football in England. Well, there is, but it's soccer--totally different. Don't get me wrong, I love soccer. I played for years. But there's just something wonderful about college football--the American kind. There really is no substitute. I'm seriously going to miss it.

So I'd like to apologize in advance to my future roommates and soon-to-be friends from the UK for what is sure to be a rough couple of months for all of us.

I will undoubtedly try to talk football with you, despite the fact that you'll probably have neither context nor concern for it. I will most likely be shocked and saddened the first few weekends I turn on the TV and discover it's not on any of the channels. And, consequently, you will certainly find me in my room, door shut, staring at ESPN.com for hours upon end. But the good news, for you, is that this all will be for only a season. It, like so many other wonderful things in life, must eventually come to an end. So if you'll just be patient and put up with my craziness for a few months, I promise that I'll finally be normal again.

At least until college basketball gets underway.

This just in.

10 days!

Holy cow.  Is this real life?

The problem is...

I don't think the bedroom in my little London flat has a closet. It has a wardrobe, but really what does that mean? I'm thinking I'll have to get pretty creative in terms of space and storage this year.

What I'm trying to say is any tips for living sans-closet would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks in advance.