Bear with me here, I'm probably going to sound dumb and naive and all other sorts of good stuff. So strap in and prepare for your opinion of me to plummet like that bomb guy from Dr. Strangelove.
I've wanted to leave the country for a while now. Not like an "Oh shit, I shot a man, time to vamoose to Canada and change my name to Jean-Claude" kind of leave, just a vacation leave. A week or two. I'm 20 years old and a college student, so I figure that I should probably end up going somewhere before I graduate into that big wide world of taxes and bachelor pad buying. And since I'm an English major who's always wanted to study people like Shakespeare and Milton, the logical choice is
(seriously that just came up in the little emoticon panel, that's a fine coincidence.) I feel like I've been far enough down the line that I can easily handle myself against pickpocketing children or soccer hooligans or whatever else they have over there, I've managed to scope out some pretty cheap hotels that probably aren't horror film setups, and I'm prepared to experience a culture outside my own. I've even been clued in on some good locations by members here, which was pretty cool. My semester is winding down, Winter Break is approaching rapidly, and I'm raring to go out and try something new.
Except there's something standing in my way.
OH NO A PARAMILITARY ORGANIZATION
No, actually it's money. The subject of only slightly fewer songs than Yoko Ono. I can't really afford it when I've got college at the forefront and that's where I'm pouring most of my savings. And it's very important to me that I get this education, as it feels like I'm sort of meant to do this. I was the "Gifted" kid because I could read the word "Chrysalis" without passing out as a child. Then I was the "Smart Guy", all through my early years. I tossed a book at a girl because she finished a math quiz before me. 2nd Grade was serious shit. So I always pictured myself flying through college and getting all the rewards and glory in the world tossed at my feet while sitting on a throne of my own mental fortitude. Unfortunately, I wasn't really the "Smart Guy" for too much longer. I had a temper and an ego, and I realized that was no way to live my life, and that friends were more important, and that family is the greatest treasure or whatever Disney movie moral you want to put here. So I cut back on it and became more social going into High School. Surprise surprise, I made a lot more friends and had a lot more fun. But there's still this itching voice in the back of my mind that tells me how "good I used to be" or whatever, which is as dumb as it sounds, but that's just me I guess. College isn't really my kind of place, and I'm doing something young Knicks would probably die if he heard about, failing a course. But I have to keep going. Get that degree in English and then I'll be home free. If that means I have to make sacrifices, call me the fucking Aztecs, I'm gonna stab some Spaniards.
Still, I can't shake the feeling that what I feel like is an obligation is getting in the way of what I actually dream about doing, going places, meeting people, and writing about it. Instead I'm in a Biology Lab staring at a pair of rat testicles wondering what happened to me. I just don't know what to do, and figuring it out is taking its toll on me. So I'm going to save up my pocket change, maybe skip a few meals, and hope that nothing happens to stop me from going to London. And I swear, once I get there, I'm going to run naked down the shores of the Rhine singing "Vive La France".
Wait, is that not the right...shit.
I've wanted to leave the country for a while now. Not like an "Oh shit, I shot a man, time to vamoose to Canada and change my name to Jean-Claude" kind of leave, just a vacation leave. A week or two. I'm 20 years old and a college student, so I figure that I should probably end up going somewhere before I graduate into that big wide world of taxes and bachelor pad buying. And since I'm an English major who's always wanted to study people like Shakespeare and Milton, the logical choice is
(seriously that just came up in the little emoticon panel, that's a fine coincidence.) I feel like I've been far enough down the line that I can easily handle myself against pickpocketing children or soccer hooligans or whatever else they have over there, I've managed to scope out some pretty cheap hotels that probably aren't horror film setups, and I'm prepared to experience a culture outside my own. I've even been clued in on some good locations by members here, which was pretty cool. My semester is winding down, Winter Break is approaching rapidly, and I'm raring to go out and try something new. Except there's something standing in my way.
OH NO A PARAMILITARY ORGANIZATION
No, actually it's money. The subject of only slightly fewer songs than Yoko Ono. I can't really afford it when I've got college at the forefront and that's where I'm pouring most of my savings. And it's very important to me that I get this education, as it feels like I'm sort of meant to do this. I was the "Gifted" kid because I could read the word "Chrysalis" without passing out as a child. Then I was the "Smart Guy", all through my early years. I tossed a book at a girl because she finished a math quiz before me. 2nd Grade was serious shit. So I always pictured myself flying through college and getting all the rewards and glory in the world tossed at my feet while sitting on a throne of my own mental fortitude. Unfortunately, I wasn't really the "Smart Guy" for too much longer. I had a temper and an ego, and I realized that was no way to live my life, and that friends were more important, and that family is the greatest treasure or whatever Disney movie moral you want to put here. So I cut back on it and became more social going into High School. Surprise surprise, I made a lot more friends and had a lot more fun. But there's still this itching voice in the back of my mind that tells me how "good I used to be" or whatever, which is as dumb as it sounds, but that's just me I guess. College isn't really my kind of place, and I'm doing something young Knicks would probably die if he heard about, failing a course. But I have to keep going. Get that degree in English and then I'll be home free. If that means I have to make sacrifices, call me the fucking Aztecs, I'm gonna stab some Spaniards.
Still, I can't shake the feeling that what I feel like is an obligation is getting in the way of what I actually dream about doing, going places, meeting people, and writing about it. Instead I'm in a Biology Lab staring at a pair of rat testicles wondering what happened to me. I just don't know what to do, and figuring it out is taking its toll on me. So I'm going to save up my pocket change, maybe skip a few meals, and hope that nothing happens to stop me from going to London. And I swear, once I get there, I'm going to run naked down the shores of the Rhine singing "Vive La France".
Wait, is that not the right...shit.
