Stiiiiiilllll waiting....

As of now, 9 July 2009, I am still awaiting word from the Peace Corps with official information regarding my nomination and my impending departure to Eastern Europe to do Business Development sometime in September. Without a doubt, I am very anxious! There are quite a few reasons for my anxiety. Sparing you an endless list of neurotic babblings, I will detail just a few. First, September is less than tree months away--a very short time-- and I still do not know for certain if I am even, in fact, leaving. Being nominated only tells me that I am still being considered as a volunteer. Nomination is not a guarantee that I will be an actual volunteer. For the past year, I have been preparing to be a part of something so big that it takes this long to actually get in. In this time, we have changed presidents, presidential cabinets, two babies have been born in my family, one wedding, one departure from the country, and a kitten passed. Life is moving in a linear direction as it cycles through seasons of change. Second, in this upcoming very short three months, I will have to give up all of my earthly possessions, besides a babushka and a parka, and prepare to exit the country for more than two years. A short list of items I need to consider doing away with are: bed, computer, computer desk, clothes, books, golf clubs, a very nice and expensive bicycle, misc. sports equipment, my car (early termination of the lease), canceling my cell phone policy, stopping Netflix, etc. These things may seem inconsequential to the naked eye, but many of them have become a part of my every day routine; being without them means facing the reality that my routine--my whole life--will be very different without them. Next, saying goodbye to friends, family, acquaintances, and distant-acquaintances. It is a given that I will make some kind of grandiose statement filled with tears and hugs to my friends and family upon my departure. However, it is the acquaintances and the distant-acquaintances that make for an awkward departing gesture. I suppose I could say things like, "Hey, I won't be buying gum from here anymore," as I throw down exact change, or "Thanks for always knowing how I like my salad before I get a chance to order it, Candace," while I read her name badge. You know, those people who always have a smile for you because they remember that you come in after work, but they're not sure where you really work or what you really do. It's those distant-acquaintance people, when I think about not saying a statement of goodbye, I question if they will passively miss me and wonder, "Whatever happened to that girl who used to come in here on Tuesday afternoons and always have exact change, but could never remember my darn name." Last, if where I'm going is cold, I really need to prepare for an icy tundra of isolationism in my room as I stare out the window at the frosty whiteness that has accumulated in my window pane. If this unknown place's temperature drops below forty degrees Fahrenheit, I will not be taking my Southern-California-warm-weather-lovin'-beach-blanket-bingo-can't-get-warm-in-a-sauna ass outside much! While I'm here for the next three months, I will be soaking up every ray of sunlight humanly possible before I step on that plane. Furthermore, when I'm not in the sun, I will be studying about ways to keep myself warm in a cold climate. I'll look like the kid from "A Christmas Story" who is bundled up so much that only his eyes are showing and he can't put his arms down. It will take all three months just to mentally prepare for the bitter, numbing, bone-chilling weather. Sadly, this is all I can offer as an update for now. I'll be sure to post more as I know more. Perhaps, I can just post more about my anxiety and we can commiserate a forthcoming departure together.