So here I am, sitting in the Dallas Airport finally on the way to Argentina. For months now people have been telling me how much I am going to love going abroad, how much it will change my life, and how much they wish that they could have done it. I nod along and pretend that I have an idea of what they are talking about, but really, know that I will not truly know until I step food in a land where the toilets flush the other way. Even now, sitting 500 miles away from my family, it still doesn’t really feel like I am about to spend the next 119 days in South America. I don’t know if it more of an eagerness to get there, an anxiety about not knowing what’s to come, or something I cant really explain, but I am ready. Ready to want to come home, ready to hate it, ready to love it, ready to become fluent in Spanish, and ready to find out a lot more about myself along the way. It could be the Xanax, it could be the lack of sleep, or it could be the fact I haven’t smoked in 2 days, but whatever IT is, I am ready to stop being told I will feel it, and start doing it. Next time I write, I will be in Buenos Aires.