El viaje que siempre he imaginado…

I leave for Sevilla today (in more than twelve hours) and I feel like I should be feeling pretty chatty.  But for once I’m actually at a loss for words.  All of these emotions are stirring inside me, settling in my stomach and frankly making me pretty nauseous.  My bags are packed and my plane outfit is laid out and I’ve been reading Spanish newspapers and listening to noventa y nueve punto uno solo exitos to get my fill of trashy spanish love songs.  I looked up the words for fork and knife and plug and “to charge” and a whole bunch of other simple things I have forgotten since seventh grade.  I nervously bought myself three spanish phrasebooks and I’ve been reading them religiously.  Why do I have the feeling that I’m not going to retain any of it?

I’m anxious about the strangest things.  Will my senora be entertaining or serious?  How will I survive all the time between breakfast and lunch when a normal spanish breakfast is coffee and toast?  How can I explain to her that I’d really rather wash some of my clothing in the sink and not in her washer?  What if I feel completely alone?  I guess only time will tell.  For now I’m going to try to sleep and stop obsessing over all of the things I can’t remember how to say in Spanish…as if that will make me seem any less American.

Hasta luego amigos, ahora comienza el viaje de mis suenos.

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