Ready to Come Home

I think I've done an excellent job of not complaining about wanting to come home.  I did not (probably much to Mommy's surprise) call home once my first 4 months here to say I wanted to come home.  Not once.  But now, as I enter into my last three weeks, I'm going to say it: I WANT TO COME HOME!!!!!!!!  I think all this excitement is getting to me.  Knowing I can actually start shipping stuff home and packing is killing me.  This past week felt like the longest week in months, only because I knew I'm so close to coming home!  I hope the next 3 weeks go by much faster!

Maybe it's not all excitement, maybe it's also part due to stress: I have a 10 minute presentation on Thursday about a Shakespeare Sonnet (Sonnet #2, if anyone is interested in helping....Thanks again Shannans!!).  What, you may be asking yourselves, can someone possibly talk about for 10 minutes that pertains to a freaking sonnet?!  It's 14 lines long for crying out loud!!  All I can say is that even after discussing things with my professor, the British girl in class and myself are freaking out.  It's not going to be a good day, I can say that much.  My prof tried to make us feel better by saying that no one was going to rate us on how well our French was, just on the content.  Well, thank you M. Marty (yes, Marty), but that doesn't make me feel any better about standing up in front of a bunch of French students and trying to speak about a dumb sonnet for 10 minutes.  I pray no one is in class (last class there were 6 if us).  It'll make it somewhat better.

After that is over with I'll have one week left of classes.  So maybe after this week everything will be ok.  Either way, I'm ready for home and Mocha and our wonderful coffee maker that BEEPS when the coffee's finished brewing and my beautiful brand new washer and dryer and Mommy's home-cooked dinners and EVERYTHING!!!!  I can't wait to go out and get a normal sized coffee.  It's going to be soooo good.  And I'm going to wear every piece of clothing I own, I'm sooooo sick of wearing the same couple pairs of pants and tops every day.  And shoes - a girl who sold shoes for 3 years should NEVER go to France for 4 and 1/2 months with only 4 pairs of shoes: it's suicide.  My boots had better be up from the basement, that's all I'm saying....

I guess I should get back to this sonnet analysis.  Awesome.  23 days, and then I'll never have to deal with Shakespeare again, never have to go to that dumb Anthropology class again (sorry Anna, but it's boring), never have to go to that ghetto campus, and NEVER HAVE TO LIVE IN THIS DORM EVER AGAIN.  Hallelujah!!