Portlanded

I'm definitely the worst suitcase packer ever. I haven't even opened my suitcase. Or my wardrobe. Yet I'm incredibly happy to pile up the baggage in the back of my head of all the things I'm needlessly worrying about (a pause should be indicated here for the time I wasted trying to verbalize said terrifying thoughts but I couldn't even do it shrouded in the lovely anonymity of the internet). Oh but I have made a list (1. Cadbury's 2. Twinings Earl Grey from Amy). I do love a good list. I'm an excellent list maker. It's a fabulous distraction from actually doing anything but comforting yourself that you have, in fact, been very productive - much like reading a measly 10 pages of a 500 page book that has to be read in a week, but by counting the preface, forward and introduction that you skipped, you're already up to page 50 so now it's time for a well-deserved break. I'm rambling. So yes, I have a list. Yet sadly this list is comprised solely of the things that suddenly came to me at 4am and I had to scribble down before I forgot them. So, so far all I'm taking for my year long stay in the US (according to my list) is: dairy milk, teabags, my external hard drive, a keyring bottle opener, fluffy slippers, my fixed 80p watch from China (I see your faces Harriet and Olivia, I will be timeless no more!) and sudocrem. Very useful.

I'm thinking that really what this tells me is that the key word here is distraction. Trying to think about everything else other than leaping on a plane and zooming 100,000 miles (a quick wikipedia check informs me that that figure is wildly overdramatic) away. I know, I know, but I'm a glass half empty kind of person so all that amazing OMG-I'm-going-to-live-in-this-incredible-city-and-go-to-this-ridiculously-crazy-liberal-arts-college-where-they'll-be-more-pop-tarts-and-reeses-pieces-than-I-can-physically-cram-into-my-mouth excitement was muffled somewhere under the mountainous pile of surprisingly tricky paperwork, visas, health assessments, sexual harrassment training, dorm applications, new reedie forms, travel insurance, health insurance, student frickin finance and the rest. Plus I love to live in lala land where Emily logic rules  and, if you've ever been fortunate enough to be counteracted in an argument with Emily logic, (this usually involves some sort of unicorn analogy or a, maybe-the-dinosaurs-live-in-the-Bermuda-triangle philosophical point) you'll understand why this whole experience still doesn't feel real. Oh I forgot to apologize for my absolutely raging abuse of punctuation - I like dashes... and brackets :) sorry.

But yes, 17 days! 17 days and I'll be hauling my (then to be) overpacked lovely red suitcase across the pond and nesting down in my little dorm room at Reed to start my US adventure. Ok so I am definitely way more excited than this is probably coming across. Already I'm planning to hit Seattle during the fall semester, heading down to San Fran to party with the Berkeley bound bestie Tash during fall break which, oh how conveniently, happens to fall on the week of my 21st, head to Nashville and then end 2013 with NYE in New York. Mid terms or no mid terms I am NOT missing Mardis Gras and I'll definitely feel unfullfilled if I don't get to Coachella or Burning Man or SXSW. I feel like if I say these things publicly I'm duty bound to make them happen. I have such itchy feet and cannot wait to get my treck on around America :) I just need to get there first...

Steady?