Thursday, September 3, 2015

Brave Pasta


So here I am, in Thailand. (Oh, you hadn't heard? I live here now.) And what am I thinking about? Pasta.

Cause, you know, there aren't noodles in this part of the world.

"Wow, you're moving to another country? You're so brave," they said. "I'm so jealous, you're going to have so many adventures," they said.

Let me tell you a little secret: I don't see myself as brave, and I'm definitely not adventurous.

Sure, I signed up for this crazy life. I spent months organizing and packing and inventorying for the move. I got on the plane. I even got through the first major meltdown (which went something like "I can't even feed myself, how am I going to LIVE here?")

That was all part of the plan.

I love me a good plan. I crave a framework within which to mess around, mess up, rebel, and feel safe.

And that's all I've been thinking about since we arrived: how can I build a framework around myself, so I'm not just floating on the breeze here?

Such an adventurous, world travel-y thing to think, eh?

I'm thanking my lucky stars that I had the foresight (helped along by a nightmarish first move from my beautiful hometown into the "bowels of hell") to register for school before I got here. Orientation for university started the day after we arrived. I don't remember it, or much of my first week of classes, through the haze of my first ever major jet lag (Major Jet Lag *salute*).



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Thanks for stopping by! I always love it when someone nice makes their presence known. =)