and... we're off!

Two weeks to the day since I left the Farm. Two weeks to the hour since rubber met pavement, and I’m starting the train trip to Philadelphia to catch my plane across the ocean.

Has it really been two weeks? Only? Apparently so much can fit into a short span, and yet so much can feel neglected. I made a weekend to trip to Harrisburg for a wedding, bought stuff for my travels, opened a bank account, closed a bank account, traveled to Ohio for a soccer game, got treated for Lyme Disease, packed (three times)… what have I missed?

I wrote briefly about the wedding earlier. It was a nice affair: the ceremony was small and personal, as was the reception. I think my friends planned and executed nearly everything themselves, with a little help from family and friends. I got to spend a weekend with three friends from high school, who I haven’t seen in several years. Although two of them had married since, and other changes have occurred, it was easy enough to pick up where we left off. A good portion of the weekend was spent playing Guitar Hero, so I think that helped, too!

I managed to visit with family a few times. On my birthday, the day I arrived home from Harrisburg, the six of us (a rare occasion when we’re all in the same room) invaded my grandparents’ house along with a few aunts and uncles. We tried to get Grandma and Grandpa talking about their youth, and we heard some good stories: the day Grandma, her brother, and ‘that skinny Catholic girl’ came out to the field to get my Grandpa off the tractor and go out; what my grandfather was like as a young man, and how my grandmother’s family liked him; and how my twin great-aunts were kept in the bun-warmer of the old wood stove to keep them warm! A week later, we had another gathering under the pretext of my homecoming. What really transpired was everybody congregating in our living room to watch the Penn State game. But I did manage to see several people I haven’t in a while, and probably won’t again for a good period to come.

At one point, I discovered a tick on my leg—the first I’d ever found on myself in PA. Despite many tick bites I’d never been treated for Lymes in Massachusetts, where it runs rampant, but here the immediate prescription was Doxicycline, an antibiotic also commonly used to treat gonorrhea. The physician’s assistant thought that might be something I was interested in knowing. This was all a little disconcerting, considering my imminent departure, my disinterest in being antibiotic-ed, and my real worry over the irritated and bruised bite itself (the PA didn’t seem too bothered by the quarter-inch deep-purple spot). Oh well, at least I won’t get the clap for my first week in Spain.

I got a new bank account! I closed my old one! That was an adventure unto itself, fraught with waiting periods, misread faxes, and finally ending in a heavy deposit that I can’t actually touch until mid-November. I hope my credit limit holds out….

And finally, after the travel insurance, trip registration with the state department (because they’re concerned for my safety. No, really.), and frantic emails and phone calls to the Spanish farms expecting me in just two days, I had time to actually gather my supplies and pack them up. Twice, just to make sure. And then, a third time because I changed my mind. Now, I have time to fret. Look out.

It’s not that I’m unprepared, or that I’m timid about what I’ve set before myself. It’s just that these small worries that I haven’t had time to consider are now coming home to roost. Before, I couldn’t be bothered with how little Spanish I speak because I had people to get in touch with. I didn’t need to worry about being mugged in the streets because I had travel insurance to buy. A further itinerary and return ticket? Are you kidding me? I had to figure out what order I was hitting up my hosts! And now, with as much of that taken care of as could be, all I’m left with are the “squirrels in my brain,” as Starpilgrim put it—the frantic fears chasing themselves around my consciousness. And the awful thing is, there’s nothing I can do about those things either! But once apprehension sets in, it’s difficult to shake. I’m breathing, and assuring myself that it’ll all work out (because IT WILL), and so this will pass. Anyway, once I get off the plane I’m going to need to make something work.

So, I’m on my way! Too bad the train doesn’t cross the Atlantic!