a whale of a thing

I’ve wanted to do two things since graduating from high school. One was backpack across Europe, the other – read through Melville’s Moby-Dick. Both seemed like such daunting feats at the time – so full of mystery and uncertainty. But I’ve since learned how to read, and cultivated a sense of adventure, and a – at times, confounding – passion for new experience.

And the timing now feels right. Maybe I’ve grown over the past eight years. Maybe I’ve matured. I’m definitely not the same person I was back then, head down and sprinting to the wall. I’ve picked through what I’ve seen and done, selected things to live and learn by, and – as if from so many color swatches lined up end-on-end – I’ve found a few shades that suit my character. I learned about music, and movements. I discovered romance. I discovered coffee.

And with match day just hours away I’ve discovered a heaviness in time, a pressing weight which I never really noticed before. I’m not worried about matching: maybe it’s what matching implies – the anticipation of one chapter ending and another beginning. Maybe it’s the endings I don’t like.

Regardless, I’m headed somewhere next year – an adventure in-and-of-itself. But before then, a chance to do what I’ve always wanted. And so, in a couple of days, with plane tickets and train tickets and all the 3oz bottles of shampoo/bodywash/detergent I can squeeze into one ziplock bag; with my sister by my side, iPod loaded with new music, and 655 pages of 19th century literature strapped to my back, I’ll head off to the Netherlands for what I’m sure will be an amazing trip.

Check back if you are interested – I’ll try hard to keep posting, even harder to keep pace...