Thora attempts leaving

I keep on checking everyone else's blogs to see if they're writing anything interesting, while all the while I neglect my own blog shamelessly. It's because nothing is actually happening, per se. I mean, I attempt to pack*

*An explanation is needed here. When I first started packing, it was very easy. I just looked at our loads of books, and filled box after box with them (usually too heavy, I feel bad for Avram when he fills the truck). Although Avram is still looking for books that I've packed, because I have now packed all of them, they are still a nice and easy way to pre-pack. Also, Lydia loves to "help" me pack; she puts things in and out of boxes such as Tape, her toys, other random things. The nice thing about books is although she can dump things in, she usually doesn't have the strength to pull the books out. Then I pack various and sundry household items, which Lydia still helped with. Now I'm on to the very miscellaneus items, which means it takes me forever to fill a box, and by the time I have, Lydia has deposited half of it back onto the floor. Lydia also likes to try and grab the sharpies I write with, and so the writing on the boxes ends up looking like I'm either drunk or five years old.
Needless to say, I'm very excited that Avram's mother is arriving today, and she can watch after Lydia while I pack. It turns out that because we're taking so little furniture, we have a lot of unused packing space, and so I'm not really worried anymore about everything fitting in, but rather how to keep it all from rattling around inside!


Another thing I attempt to do is say goodbye to friends and family. It's all very surreal, because I've been in Provo so long it doesn't seem like I'm really leaving it for good, so I say all the necessary things, like "I'll miss you" and "We'll keep in contact" and "Good luck....with your pregnancy, school, job, move, etc" but really in my head I'm sure I'll see their baby, degree, basement apartment, etc."
Maybe it will feel more real once I drive out of Utah. I know that's what it took to make it feel like I was really moving to Wayland, my boarding school. My parents and I left at four thirty in the morning, and I cried and cried as we drove out of the city. Of course, this could have just been hysteria induced by a lack of sleep.

We also attempt to get ready for Graduation, which so far has just meant planning on not going to Commencement, because I can't get tickets because I'm not actually graduating, I'm just walking. Instead we're going to eat pizza with family. But we're still walking in our college, at eight am on Friday morning. Afterwards we're going to eat mexican food, while we still can. Apparantly Britain has amazing India food, but nothing mexican-like. Makes sense; Mexico was never part of the British empire.

As I attempt these things; packing, saying goodbye, graduating I know that soon it will all become reality, because we're leaving in a week, whether or not they've happened.