I also finished my Christmas shopping today, which is a tremendous milestone. I’ve been known to start it on the 21st, so this is crazy business. But again: I just wanted to get it over with. The less time I have to spend in any kind of shopping mall or massive store during the holidays, the better (special exceptions can be arranged for Target and H&M).

And it was actually a successful errand-running excursion as far as Ireland preparation goes, as I managed to get two pairs of jeans that actually fit and my GRE prep book, both of which I needed before my departure. The jeans are skinny jeans, which I have been advised are optimum in Ireland because they don’t drag all over the rainy ground (and you might make fun of the fact that I got them in the children’s department at Target, but, um, they fit and are half the cost of grown-up jeans that don’t fit me, and, you know, it’s not like I got them at Gymboree.) And I just ordered my English subject test prep book because apparently the Green Bay Barnes and Noble doesn’t carry those? So glad the biggest bookstore in town does not actually validate the study of literature as a legitimate career. That, and the fact that no fewer than three people requested Going Rogue at the customer service desk while I was in earshot, really made me feel like this is the city to which I belong.

With that said, I did think of something that is kind of scary: I’m moving to a city that is in another country and there is literally not a single person I know there. And I’m not exactly an outgoing person. But at least I peripherally know three people who will be there, and they’re all in the same situation I am. It’s not that I’m terrified, because I know things will fall into place eventually, it will just be a huge change from SNC, where I’m lucky enough to have several people who know me very, very well and the capacity to ignore the people with whom I don’t want to interact (and the knowledge of who those people are.) But, you know, I’ll be going through the same thing once I graduate next May, and that will be for forever, not just for four and a half months, so this will be good practice.

Also: Diana is convinced that I am being irrational when I say I probably won’t get a haircut the whole time I’m in Ireland. Her theory? “Someone will be able to cut it, because everyone in Ireland has hair like yours. Red and curly.” Thank you, D. But now I’m actually enthused about the haircut-less-ness, because I’m going to rock out a fierce mane in all my brother’s graduation pictures. I’ll either look like a ginger Stevie Nicks or a very lazy Shaun White. Glorious!