London Calling, part II

Two years ago, Fenella moved to London. Tomorrow, I'm going to be doing the same.

Why am I moving to London? It's time to go to grad school. I've lived in poverty long enough. I can't work two part-time jobs forever, and I certainly can't nanny forever. In this economy, my bachelor's degree just isn't going to cut it. It's a good time to upgrade. And since I would like to go abroad, am too lazy to take my GREs, and want to finish in a year, London is the perfect place to do it.

I am beyond excited. But I am also experiencing some pre-move trepidation. It's not even the first time I've quit a job and picked up to move to another country. And this should be much easier than the last time, when it was a third-world country, whose language I didn't speak, but I met Fen and we've lived happily ever after. Yes, the living conditions should be easier. I won't be living with a constant fear of being chased by rabid dogs or catching a parasite from brushing my teeth, but there is still some concern. What if I can't find a flat and have to sleep with Fenella for a month? What if people don't like me? What if they think I'm some crazy, awkward American? What if the men are more Piers Morgan than Hugh Grant? What if I never learn to say cutlery and am forever without silverware?!

I know everything will be just fine. I know I'll find a flat and as an honorary southerner, I'm friendly now, and gosh darn it, people like me. And if the men are more Piers Morgan, I'll just find out where all the ex-pat bars are or hell, I'll just jump on the train and head to Paris for the weekend. This is MY time, dammit!

After today, if I were to be immortalized, I would be Violet, Goddess of Packing. Whenever people have more stuff than space to put it, they would say a prayer to me, because today, I worked some miracles. Packing your entire life into two suitcases and a carry-on that fit airline specifications is not easy, but I think I did a pretty good job of it. Of course, some things will have to stay behind, but that's because they're just not that important. The things that really matter, like my extensive scarf collection, shoes, and Fen's pop-tarts, made it in, even when things were looking grim. I am, however, most grateful that Fen will be meeting me at the airport to help me lug all this stuff onto the tube. I certainly couldn't do it alone.

As of Thursday morning, it's on. The Year of Violet will commence. So ready or not London, here I come!