1:45am
Wide awake.
The ceiling is white and studded.
Gotham City colors.
I wish the world was upside down.
So I could run my hand along.
To smooth out the roughness.

Dreams happen at night, sometimes on a bed with all the lights off, but this wasn't a dream- or at least I didn't think it was. It all seemed very real. The cushion of the mattress under which supported myself, pinned between it and a nearby dresser, and two others- one in the middle sitting up against the headboard and the other stretched across the bottom of a window pane that we all stared out of at the skyline of Chicago- was completely lost to me. The cushion molded so well to my body that the blankets were like jet streams keeping us aloft in midair as we simply enjoyed looking out over the city and talking silently, not to disturb the peaceful piece of mural art that we were staring at; though if one of us wanted, they could have easily acted as though they were taking a bite out of the Sears Tower, through proportion distortion, and used it for a profile picture on Facebook. Instead, we all laid there kind of in our own heads. I imagine that not everyone on the mattress was thinking about what the others were thinking like I was, but it was nice being partly in the moment nonetheless. 


For me, I have always liked looking at airplanes and wondering where they are coming from or going to- it kept me positive every day on the South Side of Chicago. When I saw a plane flying around Midway, it would remind me that the summer coming up would be the one where I would be on my way to experience Europe. But the planes flying about the sky in our time back on the mattress could have been coming from anywhere- Europe, Africa, Asia, you name it. And think, on every one of those flights could be around a hundred or so people. I was watching from such a great distance that the planes appeared to be close stars but I still noted the significance of the people on the flight and the people I was surrounding myself with to enjoy this moment Kodak would approve. It is amazing to me how I survived that long without them.

I wrote a poem during training. It was a sonnet that no one will read, ever. If they did read it during training, well, there's a reason why I write poetry at times like those. I'm not saying I planned it. But, I'm not stupid. It's not that it wasn't good or that I'm not proud of what I wrote, it's just that the feelings put into the poem were ones I need to voice elsewhere- a poem doesn't do it justice. Will I confront those impressions? Maybe, or not, let this be the start of the conversation.

The hard work is far from over but now is a moment where 'free-time' is a luxury and I am laying by the pool of my penthouse shrouded in shrubbery up on top of the Hollywood hills, metaphorically speaking.

I am an R.A. And as such, inherit the responsibilities of making door decorations and bulletin boards for the residents to appreciate or ignore. I have a nice place and enjoy the company around me- my team is amazing. But like I said, the work is far from over, and although my door decs and bulletin boards are finished, there aren't any residents here yet, and I have yet to start to do rounds where I do a walk through all of the halls. This is when the stress will heat up and I've only experienced a taste.

How's life? Good, I guess.

I am making adjustments. Now that I'm back in an environment I'm suited for and used to, my focus and thinking skills have sharpened, and it's helping put things in perspective and only I can know what that means.
_______________________________________________

A little less than a week left in Port Huron for a while. Maybe a week sprinkled about the months/years while I'm carrying on in Chicago; well that's the plan currently, if being a holiday and summer resident advisor work out.

Therefore, I'm not entirely certain this is my last summer in Port Huron, but I would like to say that I was (certain, that is).

There was never a large reason to come back to PoHo aside from my family and a few close friends, and while those may sound like huge reasons, the sting of living under the same roof as your parents and the stunted or sped up changes in friends' attitudes creates a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach- in a town where nothing ever changes, it's that feeling in coming home where everything is still pretty similar, but to you, the differences make a much larger statement than you anticipated.

As I keep getting older the more I feel like I'm ready to move on, and I am, barring those week long visits at max for the same reasons listed above.

I officially leave Port Huron on the 19th and will be returning to a city that has been exciting to me ever since I started college a few years ago. Chicago has been that second home for me and if it weren't for formalities Chicago would be my one and only. What I come back to will be different than it was these past few years for sure and it's both exciting and nerve-wracking.

Starting a position that carries with it a lot more responsibility, I think it's going to be a fun new challenge for me to face off against. The duties are abundant but the returns from those are a treat. Working with Freshman in a theater hall will play to my strengths and I am excited to be around like-hobbied people.

School will always be school to me- I've never been too intimidated with school, I do my work and seem to do fine. I'll continue to use the same methodology I have been for years for doing all that work. I don't plan to be too phased this quarter.

But priorities are priorities- and my job and school aren't the only ones on the list. I have myself to look out for too...

New theater opportunities await me and I can't wait to get on stage again to perform some of my pieces I've worked all summer on with my joint-venture partner John O. Look for the finished product sometime in early November hopefully.

My writing(s) is/are still important, and maintaining this blog is getting to be second nature to me now. It's something I like to do and if people read it, I might as well keep it interesting with new material. Plus I want to start all my new projects I've thought about this summer. One at a time more likely.

Friendships last year had to be put on the back-burner and it really made me sad to not be able to spend as much time with them as the year previous to it. This year though, I think being on campus for my position will help a lot (commuting the hour back and forth from Lincoln Park to Englewood always took a lot out of me) in getting back some of the friendships I missed most, and will encourage new ones with the many other RA's I'll be working with because I'll at least be around, if only to just meet for lunch or dinner around campus.

All of this, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm finally ready for something that I've struggled with over the years- being in a relationship. For years I've made excuses to get out of being in a relationship, and I never knew quite why, only that I hated myself for it. To deny myself of this happiness for so long has been a learning experience, and for whatever reason, it just feels right to me now- where before I felt as though I could never be the boyfriend you deserved, or that I wasn't good enough, or that it wasn't the right time, or that long distance relationships couldn't last; finally, I can say now that most of it doesn't bother me anymore and I'm going to give it my best, whatever worth that holds. That iron curtain I was hiding under has lifted and after being alone for so long, this summer traveling and through most of my life, I came to find that there was a hole that I didn't know needed filling until now...

...I can't say what's going to happen in the months ahead- because I haven't the slightest clue. There's so much for me to expect but the unexpected sure will make Fall 2010 an interesting time to be alive, and to be me.

In a little less than an hour, by the time I post this, I will be twenty years old, shedding the "teen" status for far greener pastures and heavier responsibilities, or so I would think.

Before today, I needed people to remind me this day was coming; when I was younger I'd get more excited for birthdays, but this one doesn't seem as dramatic. Yes, I can vote still. Yes, I can drive still. No, I still cannot legally drink alcohol (in the United States). So, I'm left in the same place as I was a year ago, aside from the stigma of being a teenager. My rights as a citizen certainly haven't changed much.

To not be a teen anymore is a big step. Granted, 19 is a high teen, but it fails in comparison to saying that you've been in the light for two decades. To me, it sounds like a big step.

This academic year will bring more responsibilities. It's not necessarily because I'm twenty, but I could look at it as being so- a year longer of experience conversing with others and figuring out what sort of person I am helps.

I'll just be graduating in two years and really had this summer left to saunter around at my leisure for the last time in a very long time- it's time to get my act right, I suppose. That's not a new goal to have but it's certainly more prominent now.

I just feel it's natural progression though that's making me do some of the things I do. I'm just stepping from one platform of existence to the other. No real humongous chasms I have to cross. It's only one year from 19 to 20.

What I'm trying to get at in this blog is that turning twenty is a plateau that carries with it some power, different than being called a teenager. In looking at it though, this year is more or less the same as the past few years after I turned 18.

21, may in fact, be the bigger year- and that sort of upsets me.

It's like those people who claim the new millennium didn't start in 2000, but on January 1st, 2001- do we really have to get down to the logistics? Just allow me to drink legally, let me get that status of an "adult" quicker; I have been waiting ever since I turned 18...and society makes us wait that long. What does a year really mean at this point anyway?

Preface: I love all of my relatives equally and while this post may seem slightly skewed toward one chip in a much larger bag, there are characteristics of each family member that make that individual special and by no means am I trying to discredit or lower the value of those invaluable tangible qualities.
End of Preface.

I love my grandmother Ruelle.

Close to eighty years old, she's always taken care of me, and I could never hope to reimburse her for all that she has done for me in only my twentieth year. My meager help around the house at various times throughout the year are put to shame by her day in and day out affection she doles out to our family and friends. Never have I met a kinder person, or a person that cherishes a long distance phone call like my grandmother, nor if I do, could ever they replace my grandmother's continuing lifetime of dedication. Even still, my immediate family comprised of my mother, sister, and father (son of my grandmother) have all been blessed with her presence far longer than I have, and can account for their own stories of her dedication to an individual's personal pursuits and character building.

It was my grandmother who made my dad's life progression possible, not slowing him down when the opportunity came to work and travel cross-country with his friend, essentially making this blog possible in the scheme of things. I am absolutely certain that there are more people out there who were touched, like this, by the qualities my grandmother has, than I will ever know about.

Unquantifiable, is the number of memories shared in the house upon the beach and so many more are shared, set, and scattered about in different locations. Ask me about them, and it may sound something like this:

Bored and alone at a far younger age I would sit in my grandparents living room watching cartoons and when confronted about my subsequent lack of activity my response was usually that there was simply nobody to play with. I'd like to point out at this point that these were the '90's so it was okay back then for her to say "well go outside and find somebody." My grandmother is the only person in my family that when any signs of boredom are shown, chores wouldn't be given, which may have been part of the reason why I was over at their home so much as a child. I was spoiled a great deal, and still am by my grandmother.

It was this proactive spirit of going out and finding somebody to play with that I will always remember and try to live by, with the same tenacity as my grandmother does. Every time I visit her she always seems to have more energy than me- which is either amazing or really sad on my part. Nike may have started using the "Just do it" ad campaign in 1988 but it was my grandmother who popularized it in our household. Mixed with her politician-like fist pump she fires back, "just do it," and whether or not you want to, you always end up feeling compelled to do it.

I'd like to think my grandmother knows me better than any other living being in this universe. She knows what kind of food I like (my belly throughout the years has been full of mac n cheese), all my strengths and weaknesses, and so much more.

I bring all this up because I went over to my grandparents house this morning and got into a long conversation with my grandmother about all that's troubling me...and I mean "all." For the first time in a very long time I was able to say EVERYTHING I wanted to say, and have it mean something to someone.

I'm tired of having pseudo-conversations, if you know what I mean.

Normally, I'm the one asking all the questions. It was so refreshing to have the roles reverse. My grandmother genuinely cares about me, one of the few women to have done so, and I just really appreciated the time I spent with her today venting and expressing all the little hiccups going on in my head.

Because the truth is, I am nervous about a lot of stuff. I don't talk to my parents about half the things I do or how I feel, so to have a person like my grandmother in my life to share and talk with at this point is truly amazing. For her to be able to comprehend and give me advice is more than I could have asked for.

Sure, I have certain friends that I talk about this material with- we swap stories and share in our self deprecating jokes. And sure, we try and give each other advice to our worldly problems, but for me, it's only sound advice when my grandmother says, "Just do it."

I'd like to reiterate my opening statement and say that I love my grandmother Ruelle.

I couldn't wait to get out of middle school.

And I definitely couldn't wait to get out of high school.

By the end of high school I had fallen in to what I can best describe as a stereotyped version of myself. This may be a new concept but I'm pretty sure everyone's felt it at one point.

I can safely say my experience at the World Scholar Athlete Games in the summer of '06 was as true to me as I could possibly be. I showed off every quality that I would want to be remembered with, which is part of the reason I still maintain good relations with friends from there that I haven't seen since, and that was four years ago. The people that I met there really saw the side of me that's rarely seen in public everywhere else. Also, I feel like IRHA '10 was another breakthrough time for me because I seemed to get out of this inherent method of internalizing things and show off my outgoingness and spirit.

In both those places I knew very little people (at WSAG I didn't know anyone) and they were in a location that was unfamiliar to me. These seeming hindrances highlight some of my greatest strengths and I could express them because of that. My fellow DePaul IRHA crew could probably attest to the difference in what I was before the conference to how I was during it, and then what I retained after I left.

My personality and character is adapting or evolving, everyone's is at different paces, and I'll admit mine is changing relatively slow, which isn't a bad thing- it's not like I'm having mood swings.

But when I'm in a place like high school or college for some period of time I feel like I fall into a routine, or this "stereotyped version of myself," so that when I try and express or do something that is out of the ordinary, people look at it like a hiccup, when it's really just a sign of my evolving character. Spontaneity, to me, is advancement of character being revealed. An example might help:

I used to and am starting to write stand-up comedy again; I've performed four or five times in my life, which isn't a lot, but I'm willing to give it more of my time. Back in high school I was a pretty shut-in kind of person. I had a close-knit group of friends but wasn't so extroverted towards other people. I'd follow the rules, up until a certain point, and kind of was known for being a certain way. If I had been in a group of people in my class and we had gotten off topic and I had made a dirty joke, people were shocked- and instead of laughing, where normally it would be appropriate, they would just look at me like I had just spoken in jibberish. This spontaneous joke was me trying to show my extroverted side to other people.

Now, I'm not saying college is like high school, but I am saying that I feel like I'm starting to fall into a place where people will start expecting me to keep within ways I normally act, and it's a little unfair.

As an RA I'm now expected to have a higher standard of how I conduct myself and obviously I have no problem with complying with this policy because a lot of what I already am coincides with these clauses but I hope that I won't have to abandon any part of me that is quintessential to me.

Growing up is a grooming process, but after all these snips and cuts away at deemed inappropriate qualities I want to maintain the core essence of who I am and not become a bot who acts like everyone else all the time. Those at IRHA and WSAG know what kind of person I'm capable of being all the time- I'm not there yet. Watch for those spontaneous moments, I'm tellin' ya. Often times I'll think about doing something and not do it, but I think I'm going to try and be more willing to say and do these things.

Cheers to becoming a better me.

I have twenty minutes to write and it's twenty minutes I'm going to use to the best of my ability while both my laptop and iPod charge for this journey to the other side of Ireland, to wait for a plane to take off tomorrow, to take me back to the States, where I won't get back home until very late that same night. It's here, folks.

Like the before mentioned departure date from Port Huron, the departure date from Ireland has sort of snuck up on me. Not that I didn't know it was there, just that I've been busy doing other things to bother with it. But I can do that no longer.

So I leave. What happens when I get home?

I would hope my friends would have this date marked in their calendars with circles around it and arrows pointing to it as if to mark its significance; however, while I don't know the value in this long awaited return it's perhaps me who has been making the circles and drawing in the arrows because for forty-three days now I have been completely on my own aside from the very few times that I was with people I knew.

Over in Europe I had to find my way pretty much, forge ahead alone, and I got to admit- it was hard and sometimes painful to keep forcing myself forward. Would I have seen more with another person? Would I have experienced less?

Loneliness is an all too familiar feeling and it's documented in this blog. It is a motif in my life and it comes and goes in various forms. I am slobbering over the opportunity to really focus in on this subject, possibly in a future play I will write (it's definitely not going to be in the next few months, but I will leave it on the shelf and pick it up later).

I will go home. I will see the people I only got to see a few times in between college and this trip and I'm hoping for glorious things. And it doesn't need to be glorious as in magical to anybody else but me...a simple get together with a movie on discussing pop culture would be considered glorious to me at this point.

I only have a few weeks before I leave for college again, and then it's off for who knows how long. I want to be a holiday RA, meaning I'd spend a majority of my time in Chicago, added to the fact I want to be a summer RA I would be basically be living in Chicago year round from when I start school again until I graduate hopefully. This leaves a fine predicament for the friends back home.

Growing up you have to deal with things like this but up until now I haven't really. There have been a few friends, over the course of a long time, who have faded away and others who I haven't seen in years and have been able to keep really good contact with, but are my friends and I ready for this?

There's very little chance, noting the number of times this has happened, that they'll come and visit. Maybe once an academic year (if I'm lucky).

I want to stay in Chicago or go to LA or New York. They are back in Michigan and I'm unsure of their plans.

It's life happening in front of your eyes and if I had more time to type I'd keep doing it...but for a later date the conclusion will be written maybe

Hey blog, you look good. You've got some rust on ya, but nothing a little polish and shine with newly written material can't help make you more appealing to the female blogs.

So yes, I'm writing again; it's not like I stopped, but I'm back in the business of writing on this. And no, I'm not quite home yet, but in 2 days I will be. I'm writing this from my hostel, which I'll be checking out of in a little less than 10 hrs. The rest of the day will be spent at the Comedy Carnival and trying to get my last bit of Dublin in before I head to Shannon Airport to fly home the next day.

I'm not going to write anything about my trip on this blog...I'll be writing that elsewhere. It's book material, just sayin'.

Well, short post tonight...just to get the feel for it again. Won't add another for a while probably because I have to get home, get over jet lag, and catch up on a life I haven't been a apart of for a while

Okay, it's here now. C'mon Eric accept it- accept the fact that in mere hours you'll be heading to the airport for the first leg of your journey; a journey that will lead you across two continents, seven countries, and a variety of other intangibles.

But I can't.

It's hard to look down the mouth of an adventure and tell what's waiting for you once you plunge yourself into it. I have no choice but to grit my teeth, lower my right shoulder, and plow into it with all I've got.

I leave for Cairo, Egypt at 3:15am for a 6:00am flight. It will be the longest day of my life because I don't get to Cairo until 12pm the following day.

I don't know how much I'll update this blog, already I've begun work on a journal and that will be my primary place to put down what's happened to me. Check my Facebook for the most up to date stuff. I can't tell how often I'll touch that either.

I'll miss all of you, the ones who are most likely to read this. Take good care of yourselves and be safe. I imagine we'll see each other again soon whether that be back in Port Huron or in Chicago and we'll have lots to share. Know I look forward to this moment almost as much as my entire trip. Friends sometimes become like family and after saying goodbye to some of my friends last night, and most of my family today, it's all pretty heavy for me to be away and alone for that long.

Send me your prayers, well wishes, or what-have-you because I'll need them. Keep in touch please. Leave me messages on my Facebook wall and I'll write you back. This is going to be a ridiculous time in my life and like I've said before many good things will come from it. Don't let one of the drawbacks be losing touch with some of you.

I wish I had a better conclusion, but I don't.

Always,
Eric

I went out to lunch with my friends today and got a fortune cookie. Inside it read: "Get your mind set...Confidence will lead you on."

As earlier posts would suggest, I am a pretty superstitious person. I may not believe in my horoscope but I definitely look at them and try and attribute it to my life, or try and rebuke it. Strangely, the fortune cookie has some relevance to my situation in getting ready for Europe.

I am nervous and I think it's been clear to the people I've talked to about the trip. There's so much for me to plan myself that at times I think its over my head. Confidence is definitely something I need going into Monday morning. Truthfully, I believe I'm going to be fine and since I'm such an independent person already I can combine that with my resourcefulness to at least survive the 43 days.

Short post today- long day of packing, visiting, and planning tomorrow. Interesting.

Bee-tee-dubs:
I'm going to do great things one day, things that I am proud of and love doing; I'm beginning to see what lies ahead of me and I'm excited. I'm excited to share this with all of you. A lot can happen in the two years I still have left in undergrad...stay tuned.

I'm feeling frisky today, why not do two posts at one time; it's my blog, I do what I want. That, and I feel that last blog was uninteresting.

Chicago won the Stanley Cup. Just making sure you knew, if you hadn't heard already from the thousands of "supporters" around Chicago. Props to those that were actually fans before they started televising the games a few years ago, you deserved this win.

I think Chicago is a crazy city, like, literally mentally disturbed on some level. There's the good, bad, and turrrible; I've experienced all of this.

I felt guilty on the way home from Chicago because my parents stopped at a BP gas station; however, the gas was ten cents cheaper and it wasn't full of people like the one across the street. Either way, I hope all of that money is going towards helping clean up that mess- doubt it though. Was watching the news today and it said that BP was a 9 billion dollar industry last year. How does this happen? When does a company stop caring about the customers? Is it as soon as they start making money?

I bet if I didn't post a link on my facebook every other blog everyone would forget about it.

That's another thing. I have been in a piss-poor mood lately and have no clue why, and it's mostly just me putting myself down. What am I gonna do when I'm in Europe and only have myself to keep me company? Oh the inner monologues that will come about.

Every time I drive my van I appreciate it that much more. Not only does it have a couch in the back, but an inner tube, and countless other surprises. You Chicagoans know nothing of the joy of riding in my van; shame.

Everyone should visit Port Huron once in their life, I've decided. I think you should come between July 27th and August 18th, just sayin'.

What's going to happen when Paris Hilton dies? Will the media apologize for all that it's done to help further her career but at the same time ruin it? Will the media ever be apologetic for anything? I have a growing distrust of anything with a live microphone and an outlet to reach millions of people at once- but that's just me.

Do people really care about what's going on in my life when I write these blogs? I wrote an entire research paper on blogs and still haven't come to a conclusion on that. It's like, people write these blogs for a few different reasons: (1) to further their interest in something, (2) to deal with issues that a person is facing, (3) to try and convince people of something, or (4) to recount experiences. What does the reader get out of these kind of blogs I'm writing? It's not like I'm saying any of my deepest darkest secrets like the fact, that yes, I did go to a Britney Spears concert in the summer going into 5th grade and actually enjoyed myself, and yes, I have a fear that I'm never good enough or I'll never be happy enough to ever be considered a true optimist; I'm very hopeful that things work out but there's always that little itch. By the way, if I'm to continue this brief honesty of the moment, if you have any question, and I mean ANY question go ahead and ask me. Comment on this blog and I will answer any question, straight up. This blog only though...don't go to the one before this and ask me a question, I will ignore it. Furthermore, if you don't feel like asking me through this find me on my social networking sites and ask; this is legit people. I am not getting a formspring account

Song I had cranked in my van while driving down the street of Port Huron:

How I didn't know that I was going to be gone for 43 days completely boggles my mind. I knew that I was going to be in Europe for a while, but 43 days? I had to count the number today and was pretty shocked to find the actual number. Oh well I guess,...there's no reason not to go for that long...aside from the money issue.

I originally planned to take "x" amount of dollars to Europe. It was a fair number and I thought I had enough to spend. My mind was opened when I took the number of days (43) and divided it from "x" and found that my daily living expenses would be very, very low.

It's safe to say that it's a good thing I did most of my financial stuff today because by 4:00pm I still had some left to do and without tomorrow to finish, Saturday and Sunday would have marked the days where banks are closed and I'd be left without a cent.

I rolled coins for an hour or so with my parents on the living room floor. I then took those coins to TCF where I found the only way I can get money for the coins is if I run it through a change machine, so pretty much all that effort in rolling coins was in vain; at least I knew roughly how much money would come from just the coins. At TCF I got traveler's checks and almost cleaned my account out. At E&A I did just that by closing that account and getting more traveler's checks for my trip.

It's safe to say that financial issues may prove to be an issue over in Europe, but we'll see. There's nothing I can do now but to be smart about how and what I spend my money on. As my mother graciously put, "It's not like he's old enough to drink and go to the bars for hours." While I am old enough to drink throughout Europe I got her point that I won't be spending a majority of my time in pubs, but I won't count them out completely haha.

My mom woke me up at noon this morning when i could have easily slept past 1pm. I'm not upset about that part; I'm upset at the way she chose to go about waking me up.

She walked in the room, over to my window and said, "It's 12 o'clock. I want you to put your clothes away. You still have a lot to do."

No response from me whatsoever, but I was awake, just laying there letting feeling return to my body.

"Now, Eric, don't wait until your father gets home."

Well, before I was just about to turn twenty years old, the threat of having my dad come home to find me lazing around the house without having done what my mother told me to do frightened the fuck out of me; no boy wants to disappoint his father and be lectured on respect and responsibility and be docked on merit.

But today, after my mother said it, I laid back down and thought about it for a half hour. My mom has used this trick throughout my entire life but I'm surprised she used it after I've been living in a different state for two years on my own, but I suppose she forgot in that instance. Normally, after ten or so minutes, she'd come back and try and wake me up again but today she didn't. I think she realized at the same time I did that I don't need to be threatened to get my chores done around the house anymore; I've dealt with responsibility and know my role in the house and exactly what I need to do for myself. I don't need someone breathing down my back to figure out logical steps, it's just insane to think that by this point in my life I would still need that type of guidance.

Either way, dad found out a way to lecture/yell at me about something today. My friends were coming over and I hadn't done the dishes (which I wasn't aware of until he told me)...apparently I missed the one essential thing that has to be done in order for my friends to come; my friends, who come over every other night it seems when I'm home and have seen the house in much worse condition. Sometimes, I just don't understand my father and what he's trying to teach me or mold me into. I've already become so much like him that I hope there's some room left for me to be me.

Chalk it up to nervous angst but life either way has accelerated even more since I got home from Chicago. I turned in my finals like a good student and the packing and moving was done in one day, though I'm still putting things back in order at home (at least the way my parents want them to be).

Five days. Five days. Only five until I will leave the country with only a backpack full of stuff to last me a week plus a month. Just let that soak in; how would it make you feel? I've been given a grand opportunity to do this whole thing but don't think for a second I am entitled to this and that because of my parents I'm able to go on this trip; I've gotten that reaction and it really bothers me because I'm so young they think I haven't done much that merits a trip like this.

True, my parents are letting me gallivant across Europe but they in no way paid for my trip, their involvement includes picking me up and dropping me off from the airport. I have had a job since I was a freshman in high school and was good about saving my money up in order to do something of this magnitude. And yes, I did have parents that helped me with necessary costs along the way but it's something that everyone can do if they work hard enough for it, and I believe I did.

I leave for Cairo, Egypt on the 14th and arrive there the 15th. I will stay in Cairo until the 20th and have a nineteen hour layover in Athens on my way to Madrid, Spain. From there I will travel to Barcelona, Marseilles, Paris, Rome, London, Dublin, and fly out of Shannon, Ireland on the 26th of July. Those are the dates of the trip and stops I want to hit.

I will be traveling alone. I will be very lonely and am already starting to feel the effects of not having anybody to share this experience with. I am a lot sad but I hope it can do wonders for my writing. I already have a screenplay in the works that I'm hoping to send in to be reviewed. The story, I think, is pretty good and I'm just brimming with anticipation to get writing it. Other than that I'm going to be writing 2-minute plays to add to my repertoire so when the time comes that I get an audition or someone wants to see what I'm made of I'll have those at hand. There are so many things that are going to come out of this trip.

Summer will seem shorter at home. I'm not all too sad. I still get to see everyone and spend a great deal of time with them. Relaxation has got to be a top priority when I get back from Europe, ya know the kind, the lazy couch potato maybe-do-some-door-decs kinda thing, right? Who knows.

I believe my bed time has been reached. I really want to say that I miss all of you back in Chicago and I hope the people who are reading this in Port Huron will make an effort to contact me to hangout. I really have so little time left it's hard to plan all this stuff around yours and my free time.

PS- Dear So and So:
       I don't know
       if you're reading this
       but I sincerely miss
       all that little time we spent
       together, but know it meant
       all the world to me so as I
       set sail for new horizons
       know that you'll be on my mind
       while I write and walk from place to place
       no sooner will I forget your face because
       everywhere I go is like a postcard-
       "I wish you were here"

-Eric