Countdown: 16 days and 22 hours until takeoff from DFW to Florence, Italy.

Then, I will find myself in another country which speaks another language, very much by myself. And will be without my dearest friends, my family, or a good hamburger for 3 months and 19 days. I have never been away from my family for that long. Considering I am 20, I figured it would be about time. And if I am going to do it, I might as well REALLY do it. None of this half assing moving just out of state for me. I am either in the same city or I am another country.

No lie, I find this a little unsettling. I have spent a majroity of my life wishing as hard as I could that
a) Peter Pan does exist
and
b) he would come and take me to the ageless place where I can eternally play mom and be seduced by pirates.
And now I am going to take this Lance-Armstrong-sized step into that terrible world of adulthood ((cue the ominous music)). This is one of those "point of no return" moments. Let's have a moment of silence.
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Now that we've been all serious and reflective, let's talk about how completely stoked I am for this adventure. I have been chronicly affected by the travel bug since a very young age. I have been independant since I was in the womb ((I categorically refused to turn around and be born the "normal way." C-sections are the way to go.)) So travelling by myself shouldn't prove too intimidating after the first few days. Or hours. Whatever.

Either tonight or tomorrow my suitcase will begin to be filled with the small margin of my wardrobe that has been deemed good enough to go out in public in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. This is not a significant margin. I learned with my previous abroad trip((s)) that I need several days to leave my clothing of choice in the suitcase and change my mind, pull things out, put things in, over and over again. 16 days should be enough. In no way overkill.