Thoughts of home

I woke up this morning and took a few seconds to inventory the contents of my room. I'm already judging what's staying and what's going on the plane with me in my two hulking suitcases, and it's become a common, if not daily, activity. The problem? I've still got about three months to go.

I honestly can't find a single complaint about life in recent days. The weather has been absolutely spectacular--sunny and up to 24 degrees Celsius, which, I'm told, is pretty swell. The parties are constant. In the last few weeks I've tried tapas, water aerobics (conducted completely in Dutch), and this strange beer and Coke mixture that's apparently popular in Germany. I've spent my mornings people-watching in a local park and dressed up as a box of sangria for a theme party. I've been to Den Haag, Den Bosch, Leiden, Groningen, and Katwijk, and booked trips to Krakow and London and Amsterdam (yes, again).

But my mind just can't seem to stay here. Maybe it's because stuff back in the States has been demanding my attention--housing (Voute!), class registration (thesis = scary!), summer work at the Robsham (Rocco!), looking at my unkempt hair in the mirror and wondering how humongous it'll become before I can get to Newbury Street and get it re-shaped into something less horrifying.

Another thought: perhaps I've become a locational monogamist. It really wasn't until this past semester that I made the conscious choice to make BC my home and BC'ers my second family, but dammit, I made that choice. It's hard for me to fall in love with a place, and doing it in six months is...difficult.

I know that it's done me a world of good to come here, but I think I've already learned what I need to learn. I'm ready to come home.




P.S. Update me on your adventures, dammit!