Down the Rabbit Hole

It's two days before Christmas and I'm finally picking up where I probably should have started months ago--in the blogsphere, that is (I'm sure Samantha and Paige are smiling down on me from afar). I've got a floor buried somewhere beneath a lifetime's worth of piled up belongings (and some garbage, I'm sure), that have now carried me through 2.5 years of college and 21 years of life in general. Looking at that--and looking at where I'm headed in the next few weeks--I'm finally starting to realize the 'weight of stuff' that can drive people to drop it all and lead spartan lives or, conversely, live Queen of Versailles-style and just build a bigger castle (yeesh). I'm more inclined to head the spartan route--mostly because I'm moving to the other end of the world in 47 days.

Still trying to let that one sink in. The inner wanderer in me is indescribably happy. Australia? How many people get to go anywhere near Australia in a lifetime? How did I get this lucky? Before March of this year I'd never even been out of the country--and now I'm moving as far away as I possibly can (sorry, Mom and Dad, it was bound to happen eventually).

Conversely, I'm a nervous wreck. Here's the hard part: I'm a bit of a clothes hoarder and a nostalgic soul who holds on to things for far longer than I probably should. Now I have to learn how to pack up my life into one suitcase and one carry-on for a 6-month period--fun, right? On top of that, I still have to figure out my classes, my housing, and how I'm going to accept the fact that, from here on out, everything's going to be new, uncontrollable, and scary as hell.

But in spite of all that, I'm a nervous wreck who unashamedly beams whenever distant relatives and family friends ask about my plans for the upcoming semester. How couldn't I? "Australia?! If there is one place I always wanted to go..." Who couldn't grin hearing something like that? Now it's just a matter of figuring out whether the wanderlust in me is stronger than the part of me that's become an undeniable ball of anxiety. I'll get back to you on that one.

So I'll end my first ever blog(?) blog post(?) on an upbeat note: My very first nickname as a child was Little Wing. (In case you haven't heard it). Soon I'll be walking through the clouds and, even if I'm heading into unknown territory and the minor control freak in me is going to have to take a sabbatical, it's alright, I say it's alright.