Busted facebook

I currently cannot check or post to facebook. Just FYI.

Thank you. Goodbye.

Turns out it actually takes a village in order to skip the country on my own. So thanks to all the people who’ve helped along the way. To Eleven for not one, but three going away parties—and for being so amazing for the past year-and-a-half. To Laura, Auston, and Andy for helping me load up my life into a Budget moving van. To Meagy, and Chris for unloading my life on the other side and packing it so neatly underneath their stairs a la Harry Potter. And to all my friends and family for putting up with my general lack of common sense.

Thanks for all the prezzies. For water purification systems, extra memory cards, antibacterial underwear, backpacks, and wool socks.

And thanks to Miss A for instigating this in the first place. See you in Nairobi.

My parting goal.

Is not to cry. Probably not possible as I think I have defective tear ducts—and am overly emotional. I get this from the Burke side of the family. We cannot hold it together. It borders on the ridiculous. Example: I get choked up any time I hear children singing. This just kills me:

Packing. Not delightful.

I'm sort of overwhelmed by everything I have to do. So much so that I feel paralyzed, and, as a result, am not doing anything at all. My normal approach to packing involves throwing a bunch of crap into a bunch of boxes, figuring it'll all come out ok in the end. But this time, there are multiple ends. I've got to pack for Africa. And Asia. And New Zealand. And storage in my sister's garage. Each place gets its own allotment of stuff, but sorting it all out in an orderly fashion is causing me no end of grief. And the fact that I'm inherently lazy, messy, and disorganized isn't help matters.

In fact, the only thing that'll help me right now is...wine. In large quantities.