Bonjour le Monde (Hello World)
Guess who's going to France.
Step 1: Obtain a passport.
Step 2: Figure out what classes I’m going to take.
Step 3: Determine how I’m going to make money.
Step 4: Learn how to hail a taxi in french.
As the days pass, I grow increasingly aware of the life changing trip that awaits on the horizon. For one year I will be away from my family, those I have grown to call my friends, my clubs and my room, the English language even. Much of what I have come to consider a granted will be gone, and to replace it there will be an abundance of unfamiliar. I eagerly anticipate stepping into a life different than what mine has always looked like, but as the date nears many issues that I had before given simply cursory consideration due to the distance in the future that they would surface have grown to have a relevance greater than I’d anticipated possible. As the days tick away, I begin to give those issues serious consideration. Writing here is a way to keep track of the process as things unfold. I hope to keep you people up to date while also offering myself the chance to look back and see how much, if at all, being away for a year has changed me. I remember attempting to keep a diary when I was little, but I found I only found the motivation to write in it when something that I considered to be of significance had happened, something I really needed to deconstruct. As a result, much of my diaries from 2nd grade and beyond are more of a time capsule of all my worst hits; my worst days, and my most tragic experiences, the exception being when I’d had a new experience that I thought I’d certainly want to remember later. As a result my childhood diary is a pretty polarizing text, failing terribly at painting a holistic image of who I am. This must be different. You all will keep me honest.
The seniors shambling around the halls here at school speak of “senioritis”, the work ethic killing disease that spreads throughout the eligible population more effectively than yellow fever. I have something similar. Life at school is viewed relative to what my life will be next year. It affects my decisions, my efforts, and my view of the significance of the events transpiring here, in this time. I love this school and being a part of this community, but a part of me already is beginning to feel that I no longer am a member of it, that I am somewhere else. I have to remind myself that I have not yet gone. I need to put everything in the context of my leaving being a hiatus rather than a complete withdrawal. This place is not the past. It too belongs in my future.
So, I guess I’ll end it with this. Thanks for reading. This blog will be a weekly thing, so I guess I will see you on next week. I invite you to follow me on my journey to France.
Step 1: Obtain a passport.
Step 2: Figure out what classes I’m going to take.
Step 3: Determine how I’m going to make money.
Step 4: Learn how to hail a taxi in french.
As the days pass, I grow increasingly aware of the life changing trip that awaits on the horizon. For one year I will be away from my family, those I have grown to call my friends, my clubs and my room, the English language even. Much of what I have come to consider a granted will be gone, and to replace it there will be an abundance of unfamiliar. I eagerly anticipate stepping into a life different than what mine has always looked like, but as the date nears many issues that I had before given simply cursory consideration due to the distance in the future that they would surface have grown to have a relevance greater than I’d anticipated possible. As the days tick away, I begin to give those issues serious consideration. Writing here is a way to keep track of the process as things unfold. I hope to keep you people up to date while also offering myself the chance to look back and see how much, if at all, being away for a year has changed me. I remember attempting to keep a diary when I was little, but I found I only found the motivation to write in it when something that I considered to be of significance had happened, something I really needed to deconstruct. As a result, much of my diaries from 2nd grade and beyond are more of a time capsule of all my worst hits; my worst days, and my most tragic experiences, the exception being when I’d had a new experience that I thought I’d certainly want to remember later. As a result my childhood diary is a pretty polarizing text, failing terribly at painting a holistic image of who I am. This must be different. You all will keep me honest.
The seniors shambling around the halls here at school speak of “senioritis”, the work ethic killing disease that spreads throughout the eligible population more effectively than yellow fever. I have something similar. Life at school is viewed relative to what my life will be next year. It affects my decisions, my efforts, and my view of the significance of the events transpiring here, in this time. I love this school and being a part of this community, but a part of me already is beginning to feel that I no longer am a member of it, that I am somewhere else. I have to remind myself that I have not yet gone. I need to put everything in the context of my leaving being a hiatus rather than a complete withdrawal. This place is not the past. It too belongs in my future.
So, I guess I’ll end it with this. Thanks for reading. This blog will be a weekly thing, so I guess I will see you on next week. I invite you to follow me on my journey to France.