Well! This is my new blog dedicated to my experience studying abroad. A prize goes to the first person who tells me what my title is from. I won't actually have too much to say until January, but I figured I'd get a head start anyway. This part will be boring, but whatever. I guess I'll just talk about how this all came about...
So, over the summer Kristine's dad was driving us back to Boston after spending the weekend home in Connecticut. We talked about a lot of things, most notably this delicious sounding sun-dried tomato sandwich that I have yet to make. Somewhere along the highway, though, Kristine mentioned that we should apply to study abroad together in Edinburgh, Scotland. I agreed. Apparently she could tell I didn't take it seriously, and insisted that we try. I was still pretty skeptical...until I got home and looked the program (or should I say, programme) up online. I became immediately infatuated. Scotland looked so charming and Edinburgh so full of history...so I was instantly sold.
I applied, blahblahblah. I even got it in on time (thanks to Miss Amy Porter who dropped it off for me). Everything was normal. Theeen, a month after applying, Kristine called me up and said she got accepted! All of a sudden it seemed like this trip was actually going to happen...instead of just being a cool idea to throw around. However, I was slightly concerned by the fact that I had yet to hear from them at all. I made some phone calls to Northeastern and Edinburgh and was very encouraged by what I heard. They had no record of my application at all! I didn't exist. TERRIFIC! I then convinced myself that I'd be immediately rejected, there would be no spots open, and that I had gotten myself extremely excited over nothing. The admissions lady promised they would still process my re-faxed application, but it made no difference to me, I figured it was hopeless regardless.
They told me it would take 3 or 4 days to make their decision, so after a week passed I grew even more convinced that it wouldn't work out. (It didn't stop me from relentlessly checking my e-mail, though.) Finally, yesterday at work I saw an e-mail titled "University of Edinburgh Application" and my heart DROPPED. I opened it as quickly as I could, and while my eyes couldn't actually focus on any of the words, I got the general impression that I had been accepted. Later that impression was confirmed when I read the words "unconditional offer of admissions!"
I was ELATED. After dancing in my chair until realizing the office wasn't actually empty, I decided I had to call someone immediately. I tried my home phone- no answer. I tried my mom's cell- no answer. I tried my father's cell- no answer. I tried Kristine's cell- NO ANSWER. Well surely, Susan and Chi were at their desk awaiting my good news right? NO. I had all kinds of terrific news and no one to tell. So I settled on incoherently spewing out words to Sean, the tech guy that works in front of me. Eventually I told everyone, except...Kristine, despite calling her literally 23 times throughout the day. It was great. I finally got to tell Kristine today though, so all is well!
We leave on January 9th. LESS THAN TWO MONTHS AWAY. I have no idea what classes I am taking yet. The program(me) ends on May 30th, but Kristine and I are planning on extending it a few weeks to travel. I already found a girl to sublet my room in our apartment and she seems fantastic. I am beyond excited. I cannot, cannot, cannot believe this is actually coming to fruition. Not only Scotland, and the rest of Europe, but going with KRISTINE! Little did we think back in fifth grade we would be doing this ten or so years later. I cannot imagine anything better. I honestly don't expect it to be any less than spectacular. Not to set my hopes too high, you know, but....
That's all I have for now. My next post, I predict, will be some time in the beginning of January and will sound something like this: "Well, I'm super excited and all, but the 8 hour plane ride? I'm going to die! I'm more or less dead already! I'm terrified! What if my plane crashes! What if we explode?" because, well, that's how I always act the week leading up to a plane ride anywhere. I'll probably survive, more or less.
Also, my title is taken from an old SNL skit. My dad has quoted it all the time since I was little. Fitting, right?