(no subject)
Journal 3 ( About leaving the States)
The day started with something wet and malleable underneath my bare left foot. I looked down and there it was, a dead mouse. It was curled in a small ball on the mat in front of the door, red guts seeping out. I had mouse intestine on my foot. Certainly it was some sort of parting gift from my cat. What an omen. The day continued in that fashion. I finished my packing and placed my bags by the edge of my bedroom door. I had lunch with my best friend. I felt the knot in my stomach twist and turn and tighten. I had no idea what I’d be doing in Mexico. I hated that I couldn’t picture it. I hadn’t done enough research, I clearly didn’t know enough Spanish, I didn’t know my roommate, I didn’t know the people I’d be staying with. I didn’t even have a full supply of contacts. My dad called at around two as I was curling my hair to keep my hands busy. He and my mother had a business thing that night and we wouldn’t be able to do our customary send off dinner. He felt bad. We should have done something that last night. I told him it wasn’t a big deal, that they were driving me to the airport, that I would be fine. I hung up the phone and my eyes began to sting. My stomach tightened again. I developed a headache on my way to the bank to get my LPA signed. Maddie sat with me as I waited for the notary. Brought to the subject by my inability to fill an entire four months worth of birth control prescription at once we discussed the awkwardness of our parent’s versions of the sex talk. Maddie told me that if she ever decided to have kids we’d just switch children for the sex talk and streamline the entire process. We laughed loudly and the notary laughed with us as she sat. We talked about anything we could think of. We avoided the subject of Mexico; I attempted to avoid thinking about it and failed. I thought about what I’d miss (Sweaters, leather boots, red and orange falling from the trees, the crinkle of crisp leaves under my feet on my way to class, Maddie, my Dad) I tried to remember all of the things I was excited about. I tried to remember that I’d be working with kids. I tried to remember the article on IPSL’s web site about the girl who’d worked with Mexican street children. I tried to remember that I’d be in a new and exiting place. I tried to remember that I liked to travel. I tried to remember that I’d traveled before and that I’d been a little bit nervous then too. (Not this nervous, but still.) I remembered that I’d trekked across the continent of Europe with nothing but the bag strapped to my back. (But I’d had Maddie at my side then.) I’d left for Boston on my own. (But I’d known what I was leaving for). That night Maddie and I ate dinner at a Barnes and Noble, we buried ourselves in words and split a cheese sandwich and a lemon bunt. She told me she’d miss me as she shut the door to her room that night, and I told her that I’d call. That I always did. She agreed. The fear was so palpable that day; the day of waiting. I had to push my body through it as I took care of the last minute preparations. I joked and bounced and my body twitched a little when I sat. It eased the next morning, as I moved forward. It eased as I tapped on my brother’s door to say goodbye. It eased as I nudged Maddie awake, as I moved my suitcase into the car, as I told my mother to hurry up when she ran back into the house again for something she’d forgotten (wasn’t I the one who was leaving?). It continued to ease even as I hugged my parent’s goodbye. Eased even through the lump in my throat as I walked away from my father. I shuffled through security and passed my first flight in a seat next to an extremely large woman who, while she was very kind, was also entirely unable to keep her large thigh from sticking to mine. Finally I settled into my seat on the second, extremely small, plane and pressed my nose to the window. I left the knot in my stomach entirely on the ground as we took to the sky. The plane shook a bit as we soared through storm clouds and an involuntary smile broke out over my face, lips stretching over teeth as I watched the world rotate between grey and rolling green around and below me. Moving forward towns my indecipherable future, this time wearing shoes.
The day started with something wet and malleable underneath my bare left foot. I looked down and there it was, a dead mouse. It was curled in a small ball on the mat in front of the door, red guts seeping out. I had mouse intestine on my foot. Certainly it was some sort of parting gift from my cat. What an omen. The day continued in that fashion. I finished my packing and placed my bags by the edge of my bedroom door. I had lunch with my best friend. I felt the knot in my stomach twist and turn and tighten. I had no idea what I’d be doing in Mexico. I hated that I couldn’t picture it. I hadn’t done enough research, I clearly didn’t know enough Spanish, I didn’t know my roommate, I didn’t know the people I’d be staying with. I didn’t even have a full supply of contacts. My dad called at around two as I was curling my hair to keep my hands busy. He and my mother had a business thing that night and we wouldn’t be able to do our customary send off dinner. He felt bad. We should have done something that last night. I told him it wasn’t a big deal, that they were driving me to the airport, that I would be fine. I hung up the phone and my eyes began to sting. My stomach tightened again. I developed a headache on my way to the bank to get my LPA signed. Maddie sat with me as I waited for the notary. Brought to the subject by my inability to fill an entire four months worth of birth control prescription at once we discussed the awkwardness of our parent’s versions of the sex talk. Maddie told me that if she ever decided to have kids we’d just switch children for the sex talk and streamline the entire process. We laughed loudly and the notary laughed with us as she sat. We talked about anything we could think of. We avoided the subject of Mexico; I attempted to avoid thinking about it and failed. I thought about what I’d miss (Sweaters, leather boots, red and orange falling from the trees, the crinkle of crisp leaves under my feet on my way to class, Maddie, my Dad) I tried to remember all of the things I was excited about. I tried to remember that I’d be working with kids. I tried to remember the article on IPSL’s web site about the girl who’d worked with Mexican street children. I tried to remember that I’d be in a new and exiting place. I tried to remember that I liked to travel. I tried to remember that I’d traveled before and that I’d been a little bit nervous then too. (Not this nervous, but still.) I remembered that I’d trekked across the continent of Europe with nothing but the bag strapped to my back. (But I’d had Maddie at my side then.) I’d left for Boston on my own. (But I’d known what I was leaving for). That night Maddie and I ate dinner at a Barnes and Noble, we buried ourselves in words and split a cheese sandwich and a lemon bunt. She told me she’d miss me as she shut the door to her room that night, and I told her that I’d call. That I always did. She agreed. The fear was so palpable that day; the day of waiting. I had to push my body through it as I took care of the last minute preparations. I joked and bounced and my body twitched a little when I sat. It eased the next morning, as I moved forward. It eased as I tapped on my brother’s door to say goodbye. It eased as I nudged Maddie awake, as I moved my suitcase into the car, as I told my mother to hurry up when she ran back into the house again for something she’d forgotten (wasn’t I the one who was leaving?). It continued to ease even as I hugged my parent’s goodbye. Eased even through the lump in my throat as I walked away from my father. I shuffled through security and passed my first flight in a seat next to an extremely large woman who, while she was very kind, was also entirely unable to keep her large thigh from sticking to mine. Finally I settled into my seat on the second, extremely small, plane and pressed my nose to the window. I left the knot in my stomach entirely on the ground as we took to the sky. The plane shook a bit as we soared through storm clouds and an involuntary smile broke out over my face, lips stretching over teeth as I watched the world rotate between grey and rolling green around and below me. Moving forward towns my indecipherable future, this time wearing shoes.