And so the adventure has begun...

Today, the 8th of October, marks an exciting and welcoming milestone… one month since I’ve been living in Spain. So what changes have transpired? Have I grown with every monument sighting? Learned with every foreign exchange? In fact, yes; on both accounts and then some. However, I cannot begin to illustrate such information without first noting what has remained constant (and always will). As easily noted, this blog is meeting the World Wide Web and reaching the eyes of my loved ones as just stated, a MONTH after being abroad. I must admit to some feelings of guilt as an aspiring journalist who is seeing the most miraculous corners of the world and not writing every last account of it in excruciating detail. However, procrastination (or in my preferred, more optimistic terminology “best under pressure”) is not a characteristic easy to abandon and it must have managed its way through customs on my carry-on. But yet, something tells me that this is not exactly the phenomenon currently taking place. Procrastination as I know it is best visualized as long nights curled up at College Library, downing espresso by the truckload and finishing a paper, due at 8am to the sunrise over Lake Mendota. But such the case is not currently applicable; sure, I’m not writing as much as I’m used to (or would like to), but that isn’t to say there has been an excess of laziness or lack in my journalism (or passion therein). In my one month in Europe, I have done more travelling, praying, mental-writing, appreciating, reflecting, and thanking than I have in a lifetime. Here, I am free –free from hometown realities, student org responsibilities, G.P.A. shortcomings, social scene dramas, work burdens, newspaper worries, petty predicaments, and any other obstacle not categorically contained. It is both the most euphoric sovereignty and terrifyingly-honest testimony to the person I am and the person I can become.
And true to style, with my brush of symptomatic OCD characteristics, it is decidedly fitting to (finally) present my blog exactly one month into my journey (or enlightenment if you will). I’ve settled cozily into the “tranquilo” way of Spanish life, and found my niche in between the buzzing, busy days and still-heat, bustling nights. From here, as promised to my friends and family, I will work to update the happenings of these weeks passed and keep you all apprised on all future endeavors. And so the adventure has begun…

Below: the first international journal entry I wrote, in the plane-ride departing from Chicago en route to Espana (because of the scarcity of internet in Andalucía, most entries are written in Word and then later transferred to my blog upon availability of beloved Wi-Fi...)

My eyes slowly open as I wake from a calm nap, my body upright and my head turned slightly to the right. The nice man sitting three seats over is excitedly eating a portion of beef and vegetables. They must have served dinner. Still in a daze, I turn to the left and am instantly awestruck by a brilliant view through an ungenerous 1x2 airplane window. Illuminating thrashes of pink, purple, and gold engulf the expansive sky and wrap tightly around the Airbus in which I currently reside. Its pure magnificence momentarily freezes time and ignites a slideshow of explorative possibility before my very eyes. A conscientious flight attendant notes my absence during dinner and abruptly halts my whimsical daydreaming by offering food. I smile and answer “no gracias” to be offered coffee just minutes after. This time by an obnoxiously-good looking Spanish flight attendant who isn’t as satisfied with my polite refusal. “No? No coffee? No tea? Nothing? You’re fine?” I nod and smile and he courteously grins back, looking slightly disappointed that he could do nothing to improve my current condition. Interestingly, unlike America, Spanish flight attendants are predominantly male… and from the looks of this ethnic refreshment, no complaints here. I am left smiling to myself for a second and reality sets in. I am on a plane en route to Spain. To move, to travel, to live for four months. Sporadic thoughts and endless questions competitively race through my brain and… Okay, more Spanish flight Stuarts pass and they are ALL really, seriously good-looking. Hot enough to interrupt this completely profound and enlightening journal entry (ha-ha). And thoughtful too... after my first pineapple juice, I haven’t had to ask for another yet, they just keep ‘em coming. I like Spain already. My adventure has officially taken flight…