Strangely, it didn't even occur to me that I was leaving until my father dropped me off at JFK.
I hopped out of the car and gave him a hug, grabbed my baggage, and went into terminal 1 at JFK. Then it hit me, being at the airport means getting on a plane and going somewhere. It's very strange that although I've been through all of these motions, starting with renewing my passport, followed by moving out of portland, putting all my crap in my mom's attic, and packing 36 kilograms (so luftansa tells me) of clothing, books, electronic equipment and pottery (yes i'm bringing pottery, a gift for Kilian in vienna). When does it hit me that I'm leaving? as i walk into the airport.
well, that's me in a nutshell. going through the motions without realizing what's going on.
I'll post more from Vienna, where, apparently, I'm headed.
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