thirty — milestones

If you’ve ever been a morning person, you know what comes with that territory: someone around you–sibling, parent, roommate, friend–will scowl at you as you come skipping down the hall for breakfast. I lived with the same people for the last three years of college and they will be the first to tell you that I am entirely too happy in the mornings.

There are a few exceptions to this rule. I really, really didn’t want to wake up today. I screwed my eyes shut and tried everything to get those last few minutes in before my alarm started sounding at me: I curled into a ball; I stretched my legs out straight; I sprawled across the entire bed and left no room for anything, not even the pillows.

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twenty-seven – the brink of something big

I’ve written in the past that my mom is a firm believer in visiting the ocean. She taught me the beauty of salt water lapping at your feet and sand squishing between your toes.

More importantly, she taught me the importance of standing at the edge of infinity and remembering your smallness.

Sometimes I get the feeling that I’m standing on the edge of the ocean doing just that.


I realize that might sound a little strange. After all, the view out of my window at the moment shows a rather snowy college campus in the fifth biggest city of the United States, not a bright and sunny beach with blue water and soft sand. A better way to phrase this would, perhaps, go along the lines of I feel like I’m standing on the edge of something big. 

Okay, sure, a lot of that is due to the fact that Basia & I officially started publishing an internet-based literary magazine today (The Next Post. It’s awesome. It’s pretty. It’s fun. I’m biased. Check it out anyway!).  Another, equally large chunk should be chalked up to thinking about the fact that in less than five months I will be a college graduate.

What?! Isn’t school supposed to take four years or something? That’s what I’d heard. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it only takes two. Wait, it has been four. Okay. Huh. How about that. Maybe my life was switched to hyperspeed while I was distracted by all of the beautiful Irish cliffs. Maybe this boils down to the phrase time flies.

Spoiler alert: it totally does.

Fly, that is.

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Nope, no quippy titles or alliterative themes for this post. I just can’t quite think of one that’s appropriate for the subject matter.

When last I updated this blog of mine, Lis and I had just concluded three marvelous, marvelous days of adventuring through Edinburgh. They really were quite amazing. Since then, we have gone to the Cliffs of Moher — or, for you Princess Bride fans, the Cliffs of Insanity — and, with our “reading week” off from class, I flew off to the Netherlands and then met up with Lis in Berlin.

Highlights from the Netherlands include seeing the lovely Erika, eating delicious Dutch food, attempting to learn Dutch — really, I’m quite dreadful at it — and seeing the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh Museum, and the Anne Frank House.

Highlights from Berlin include my awe at their train system, a fun restaurant called Wok to Walk, a tour of Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp, a bicycle tour of the city and, on a lighter note, eating Berliners with Lis because, you know, Ich bin ein Berliner. 

But before diving in with the deep-thinking and heart-aching accounts of my travels, here’s a glimpse of the Cliffs of Moher  –because they are extraordinary and, quite frankly, staggering — not least because of the incredible gusts of wind.


Do be warned: this post, at least, focuses on some rather bleak experiences, and if you are looking for another happy-go-lucky, all-is-well, “I’m seeing the world and study abroad is the best thing ever!!1!!!!11!!!!” post… this is decidedly not that, so read with caution.

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