“Marching Into The Unknown Armed With Nothing”
Yes I got that quote from You’ve Got Mail. No, I am not ashamed.
If you are reading this and know exactly who I am and where I am going for fall semester you can skip this first paragraph. My name is Alison, I am a junior at the University of Washington majoring in Psychology and Law, societies, and Justice (aka LSJ). I am about to embark on a semester long exchange with the University College Dublin in Dublin, Ireland. Hopefully I will remember to update this thing regularly. Oh and apparently I leave in 38 hours (whaat?). That is still sinking in.
I almost had a mini-breakdown at Trader Joe’s this week. I realized I won’t be able to shop there at any point during the next four months. Obviously this meant I had to hit up the sample table twice to compensate for my pending absence. Anyways besides exploiting Trader Joe’s, I have been pretty busy this week. Confession: I love packing. When I was younger, my family would admire the artful way I stacked my clothes as I ticked things off the packing list my mom provided me. Actually I think that was the only way I ever let her get involved in the packing process. Packing is my thing. So yeah, you could say I am a little excited about the whole packing-everything-I-need-for-the-next-four-months scenario. However, a few days ago while I was organizing my clothes and checking things off my carefully crafted list, a serious question arose. Should I bring my shiny metallic blue pants to Ireland? I mean I have had a few heated debates (by a few I mean one) with a representative sample of the population (and by that I mean one of my housemates) with pretty split results (we are really good at circular arguments). We basically had a five minute conversation about all of the possible life events that couldn’t happen without metallic pants. And I guess that is the most exciting thing about packing, and probably why I love it so much. I love imagining all of the situations that might require me to have my neon colored shorts or bright purple socks. Should I bring my hiking shoes? My ukelele? The questionable colored knit beanie with the poof-ball on top? I know the things I bring with me won’t shape my experience abroad. But for now it is fun to pretend. In reality I am pretty much, “marching into the unknown armed with nothing.” As dramatic as that sounds, I kind of like it.