What did I sign up for?

[arspoetica]

I <3 Study Abroad.

As much as that sounds like a slogan for a cheesy t-shirt, I can't stress this enough. I think study abroad is one of the best things anyone can do, at any stage in their education. My first experience (living and studying in Sydney, Australia for four months), was one of the most amazing times in my life. Even in an English speaking country, the culture clash and the opportunity to see things from a different perspective really open your eyes to the kind of world we're living in.

During that first round, I had to make a difficult choice. My alma mater offered two study abroad courses that I was interested in: Studying English at Oxford, or studying the arts in Sydney. Being the classic overachiever that I was (I was taking the maximum load, summer courses, and only doing a single major because my advisor put her foot down about doubling), I decided I needed a break. As appealing as Oxford sounded, Sydney won. Oddly enough, I don't think I ever worked as hard during my undergrad as I did during that semester, but it was because I was loving my classes. I wanted to jump all-in. Part of me still longed for Oxford, though. I mean, how many chances do you get to take an opportunity like that?

Apparently, the answer is two.

In little over a month, I will finally be heading to Oxford. It's five weeks instead of four months, and I'm a graduate student rather than an undergrad, but I'm going. I get to live on campus. I get to live, breathe, and eat there. I already think it's amazing, and I haven't even set foot there. However, there are a few things that have changed since my first experience with this whole living abroad thing.

It's funny, but you don't realize how much easier it is to travel while living with the parentals until you try to travel while living alone. So far, I've needed to arrange for a house sitter to check the plumbing and electricity and mail while I'm gone. I have plants that need watering. I have a lawn that needs tending.

And I have a cat.

Maybe he just doesn't like my taste in music.

While I'm risking sounding like the proverbial cat lady, when it comes to traveling, having pets really isn't all that different from having children. You can't leave them alone and, if you want them to survive your absence, you really need to make sure they can eat and drink.

Sure, I could ask the house sitter to do it, but that means my poor cat would be home alone most of the time...and considering the way he makes me feel guilty when I've only been gone for a day, I don't want to think about the fallout of five weeks of loneliness. So, alternatives have to be found.

Thankfully, my dad is more than willing to watch him while I'm gone.

Not so thankfully, this means that--for the past several weeks--I've been carting Sam back and forth between my place and my father's so he can get used to it before I abandon him for good. Not only is this stressful for Sam (he hates car rides), but it's stressful for my dad's cat (she hates Sam), and for me (...if you've never been in a car with a panicked, yowling animal, count yourself lucky).

I'm going through the usual preparations. I've made packing lists and attended orientations. I've bought adapters and loaded textbooks onto my Kindle, and charged the batteries for my camera. And I've already started looking up scholarly criticism for my Shakespeare class. No matter how much I still need to do, though, none of it is quite as difficult as forcing a kicking, frightened cat into his carrier and driving him around for two hours at a time.

I'm looking forward to England. I really am. I'm just hoping my nerves can handle it.