Cold Feet

Trip Start Aug 31, 2007
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Trip End Apr 19, 2008


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Flag of United States  , New York,
Friday, August 31, 2007

Sitting at the John F. Kennedy airport, just outside my gate, and reality's starting to hit. I'm really going to do this. I want to cry. In less than a week, my world's turned upside-down. Granted, I wanted it to be that way. A week ago, I was ensconced in the happy little Fort McMurray life I'd carved out for myself over the last four months. Derek and I were discussing how best to cook our salmon dinner and my roommate was watching Jeopardy on TV. Perfectly normal. Since then, I've flown halfway across the country, spent a whirlwind six days with parts of my immediate family, and packed absolutely everything of mine in my parent's house so they can move before I return. Now, I find myself in an airport, in Queens, alone. It's a bit of a shocker, really.

I've got that feeling in my stomach - not butterflies, there's a good side to butterflies - mine's much more a feeling of dread. I'm 22 and I'm going to Eastern Europe for four months by myself. I don't know anyone in the countries I'm visiting, I don't speak any of the languages, and in spite of my best intentions, I failed to learn the cyrillic alphabet this summer. On the plus side, I speak English, passable French, varying amounts of German, and I can count to eleven in Spanish. I can also count to three in Vietnamese, but I don't see that being much help on this trip...
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