mots de juillet.

My last post was on my last day of school, and now it's already my last day in Pittsburgh.

Last year, I started the tradition of staying at my Aunt and Uncle's house (in Pittsburgh) during the summer to attend a Young Writer's Institute at the University of Pittsburgh. It's a two week program, and I love every minute of my stay: one, because I love the city life; two, I love Young Writer's; and three, I love spending the time with my Aunt, Uncle, and their dog (my cousin) Guinness. I left my hometown on the 10th of July, a little over two weeks ago, and now I have that same amount of time until I leave my town (and country) again for Belgium. Am I really leaving?

I don't think that the reality of my departure has quite set in. I think about leaving all of the time, but I just can't grasp the truth of it. I have a date, August 15th, which is truly the only substantial proof I have. My visa has yet to come in, but my travel agent said not to worry about it. So in a week, I'll worry. But for all I know, my visa may be waiting for me at my house. I guess I'll find out tomorrow.

18 days.
18 days and a long list of "to-do's" and "to-buy's". I'll get it done. Procrastination rules above all others. Therefore, instead of working on my host parents' photography books (the gifts I'm making for them) or writing some more thank-you cards to everyone who has supported me, I'm sitting in a dark computer room- illuminated only by the computer monitor, chewing on a water bottle cap, and typing this post. I might as well do it while I can (which is a very common motto for me now-a-days).

As for my french, I had been fully convinced that the summer would be a time of devotion to learning so that I'd be able to converse by the time August 15th rolled around the corner. But I was wrong. Summer brings laziness, and I've been infected by the "oh well, I'll learn" plague. I mean, I know basics: a little over 2 years worth of french studies. I can read and understand fairly well, but when it comes to speaking.. it's another story. J'ai un accent américain, un accent terrible. I guess I'll just have to go with it and finally learn to be a quiet person.

It's an adventure. Who wants to jump in feet first?

Well, this water bottle cap has suffered enough. That means I'll be going.

Goodnight,
Bonne nuit,

Jordann