I. Am. Excited.
We had our first official meeting about Dublin last night, and I want to go now. Just run to the nearest airport and hop on the nearest plane. Go to Ireland and stay there forever. Except, I'd also go to other places in Europe basically all the time. And I'd come back to the US every, you know, once in a while. Just to visit people and stuff. And then I'd come back to the land of the pretty accents, and everything would be fucking fantastic.
I can't believe I have to wait basically two months. On the other hand, though, I can't believe I will be in Ireland in just under two months. It barely seems possible.
I feel like I did back in fifth grade, when the big, exciting field trip was to go to the National Seashore for a week. We would stay there in a big, centuries old house and do nature stuff away from our parents. We were all, "Yay, we're gonna get to eat ice cream all day and never go to bed and sleep in bunk beds and do stuff that we think is awesome but probably isn't because we're ten!!!" I remember the day we got there, we were kind of all in awe. The Seashore (never mind the fact that we were all little Cape Codders, and so pretty used to the beaches. We were away from our parents, dammit, and that made it special) was just this thing was so talked about, so mythologized, that it didn't feel real.
I think it will be kind of like that when I get to Ireland. I'll be in shock, practically, and at first it won't seem possible that I'm actually in this fairy tale place where everyone speaks in the most fantastic accent ever. But then it will. And I can't wait, for either of those stages.
Oh, but unlike the Seashore, which ended up being kind of lame, Ireland is going to live up to every one of my expectations, and more. I totally expect the day I come back to be the most depressing day of my life.