London Calling...

Its the most wonderful time of the year! Seriously, it is. I love Valentines Day! (Yes, even when I was single. and in college I still passed out Valentines to my friends). Its full of heart-shaped things, candy, written notes and lets face it--an excuse to wear pink and binge eat chocolate. All things I love! And whats better is I don't have a boyfriend who doesn't judge me for it--at least to my face.

A few life updates for everyone:

I am interning in a classroom this quarter! I get to spend 6 hours a week with a big, fat, room of pre-pubescent 11 year-olds. And I actually want to do this for a living? Its not all bad. I get to check their homework, grade their tests, and buy Girl Scout cookies from them. This is all for an education class I am in, and as a requirement I must "teach a lesson" to these little snicklefritz. While I originally spoke to the teacher about teaching some sort of creative writing lesson, I've decided to go a slightly different direction...PE! At my school there are no PE teachers--the teachers are in charge of the kids physical ed. You see, my teacher is a bit of an older, heavier-set woman... who admittedly "hates" PE. This means on an average day 7 kids are playing a game of dodge ball and the rest are picking daisies in the grass. As I was thinking back to my PE curriculum in 6th grade, it dawned on me...LET THE CHILDREN (LINE) DANCE. The best days of my youth were spent line dancing alongside my fellow awkward pre-teens and being forced to hold hands with a sweaty, porous-faced lad. And I intend to pay it forward.

Some of you may recall that I casually and at the last minute applied to study abroad over Christmas break. I was sitting at my desk during work today, immersed in the wonderful world of concerned parent e-mails and 50 middle schoolers using our bathroom when I received an e-mail; London called, and I answered! Yep, I am unofficially officially accepted into the Fall studying abroad program in the UK! I say unofficial because they still have to send my application off to my first choice University and I have to be officially accepted. At this point I am equal parts terrified and excited. 16 weeks. 16 weeks!! There in that cubicle it started to hit me what 16 weeks away means. It means spending my 21st birthday in a country where the drinking age is 18. (lame). It means missing out on multiple friends' birthdays; including Mother's "25th" birthday, our 2-year anniversary, an opportunity for an epic couples costume, but most sadly, it means my first holiday away from my family (Thanksgiving, btw. There ain't no way I'm missing Christmas). While this may make some people shake in their boots, I am forcing myself to be optimistically excited for the challenge. The challenge of being plopped in an unfamiliar place where people prefer tea over coffee (oh, the terror!!), attending a University that I can't give people tours around, and not knowing anyone to go to for free hugs. It means I'm going to have to figure it all out, whatever 'it' is. I know there will most likely be no other time in my life where I will have the time and resources to just go somewhere for the heck of it. Especially at the "my mind is a sponge"-like age I am in. I think you can know see why I'm equal parts excited and terrified. 

I will be making my way to Reno this weekend and I know what you're thinking; why bother studying abroad overseas when you are just 2 hours away from the enchanting paradise that is Reno?! Shout out to my big bro for completing his masters--something that all my peers who claim that's their "post-graduation plan" will surely never actually complete. 

Alright. That's about all this little cranium can muster for tonight. I'm also too tired to come up with a clever way to end this post so... goodbye!