Besides, I know I'll update more often than Ned ever has.
Sometimes, thinking about going abroad starts to freak me out. Right now, I call Andrew about five times a day. How will I be able to handle merely Skyping him a few days a week? (And since my mom is probably my only other loyal reader, I will of course miss being in constant communication with her as well.) Then there are practical concerns, like what if I get robbed or my credits don't apply when I get back or I miss my connecting flight to Marseille because I got distracted by chocolate in the Brussels airport? But in all seriousness, it'll be great. (Especially the chocolate.)
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| Mont Sainte-Victoire, Cézanne (1882-5) |
Mostly I'm excited... trying to figure out when I'll be able to start packing (since my room is little and my suitcase is big) and double-checking that I've sent in all the forms. And, of course, making an awesome blog. I was hung up on the title for a long time, since I wanted to find some beautiful poetic quote about Provence. It's supposed to be absolutely gorgeous, and scores of artists and writers have lived there, so there has to be something, right? Well, Google doesn't think so. Of course, if I were going to Paris, I could have my fill of pithy observations about my destination city of choice, but I'm not so I don't. However, I did find a particularly lovely quote by the one and only F. Scott Fitzgerald, with which I will leave you now:
"France has the only two things toward which we drift as we grow older--intelligence and good manners."
