All possible variations

It took me so long to finally set up this account, and now that I have, I don't know what to say. Of course.

Well. I'm leaving for Spain in a little less than 48 hours, everything packed & ready to go, minus a few last minute details that will be taken care of sometime between now and Thursday morning. I'm trying to be less anxious about everything, especially the flight(s). From the (admittedly few) pictures I've seen, Sevilla & Madrid both look absolutely gorgeous. I don't know how twelve days of uninterrupted mother-daughter time will play out. Hopefully, smoothly.

So what have I done with my time these past few days, besides running around checking things off a multitude of to-do lists? Read The Emperor's Children, which was quite good and which I hadn't gotten to all summer. Watched that Lifetime movie on Coco Chanel. Drank absurd amounts of tea. Got into a messy fight with my father over old grievances I can't (won't, shouldn't?) forgive. Mainly though, I've been saying goodbyes. First to longtime Fairfield friends--the Holland Hill girls, Cari, Chelsea, Bri. Then up to Sarah Lawrence, where it felt somewhat unreal to be wandering around with nothing in particular to do, not needing to partake in the chaos of interviews, close to something like nostalgia all the same. It didn't really hit me as all that strange however, until I was wrapped up in a sleeping bag on the floor of Eunice's room in Andrews Court and realized, in a way that I didn't quite realize it at the end of last year, being sick & burned out & the whole summer still before me, that it won't ever quite be like that again. That house, those people. And I'll miss it & them. A lot. Even knowing this year, that time would pass & I would be elsewhere, was odd. Then Marty up at Smith, and finally back to Fairfield for one more, last Saturday.

Enough of this, Amy would say. Has said. You're looking back when you should be looking forward. That's probably true. Even this, cataloging goodbyes.

I am excited to be going, despite my nervousness about various things. I'm trying not to make this year become about anything in particular, though its hard not to. There's always that fantasy of what a new place can be; what I need it to be. We'll see.