Four Days

Four days and counting until I leave. I am still scared shitless, probably even moreso than before. January 3rd came and went and the Irish sucked up New Orleans. Ninth straight bowl loss, this time by 27 points. Well, at least we're consistent. And I'm never going to a bowl game because apparently we'll never win one.

Back to the whole leaving the country thing. As the day gets closer, the sick feeling in my stomach just keeps growing. Lovely! But I know I have to do this so I will, no matter how terrified and doubtful I am. And I'm going to lay out some goals for myself:

(1) Grow up!/ Gain independence! The time has come.
(2) Travel to Ireland, Italy and wherever else.
(3) Have fun, but not too much. Have to remember that I'm going to school there too.
(4) Make out with some British boys. What? It's an admirable goal.
(5) Don't have a nervous breakdown (which is harder than it sounds).
(6) Lose some weight because British food? Baaaaddd (Allegedly).
(7) Not get robbed, attacked, assualted, or anything that would involve blood and/or the police.
(8) Keep the cultural miscues to a bare minimum (which I probably won't accomplish because it requires some sort of internal monologue, something that I just don't seem to possess).
(9) Get good grades.
(10)Try not to call home every single day (which will be, once again, harder than it sounds).

So these are my goals. There are probably more, but I can't think of them at the moment. And some of them suck. Oh well, they're my goals so you can just back off.

Four days, people, four days.