Merry Christmas My Dears!

SO much catching up to do! The past semester was very difficult. I hardly slept or ate. I barely survived my first semester. BUT, I did. I hope the next year goes as fast as the past 4 months because it is very difficult being away from everyone I love. I also, have met some lovely new friends. They kept me on track when I felt like I was about to lose my mind.

I hope everyone is enjoying time with family, friends, and significant others during this Christmas Eve. I feel so incredibly blessed and happy. Life has given me everything I ever hoped for (and more).

Maybe Christmas, the Grinch thought, doesn't come from a store.

So Long, Farewell, Auf Aiedersehen, Good-bye

Bonjour, salute, hello!

My loves, I must admit that I have been distant. The first semester of grad school was comparable to being at war. It was anything but glamorous. I know what you must be thinking that war and grad school are nothing alike. I assure you that they are. I was told during my first week of school that the experience was comparable to being at combat, and until you are in the midst of the battlefield, (a.k.a knees deep in assignments and caffeine hooked to your veins) then you cant quite make the connection. There will be more on the so called 'school' experience in the near future, but I think we should start from the beginning. I think I owe it to you, my faithful audience, a painted picture with my words.

August 23, 2012
The drive to my new adventure was long. It gave me a solid 23 hours with nothing but my thoughts and coffee house satellite radio. The only stops that we made along the northern USA did not make me validate my decision to start school in a new country. My captain and I stopped at a rest station which looked beautiful, however I am 95% sure it was being ran by zombies. No joke, there were people with wondering eyes, and circling the parking lots (legit walking in circles in the parking lot). I remained strong, and we went onward with our journey.

After two long days of driving we arrived at the Buffalo border. Gertrude (our faithful GPS-who can sometimes be a bitch) directed us to drive down 'Por--ter Avenue' in her annoying robot british voice. The thing that is interesting with Buffalo is that one minute you can be in a rich neighbourhood, and then within a block and you question if you are a part of slumdog millionaire sequel.  Anyways, we were driving down Porter (the Captain and I), when suddenly we could tell we were not in Kansas anymore. Stereotypes were everywhere--and I was scared. I recall making a comment to the Captain about the nicely decorated stop sign. There were candles and flowers everywhere!! The captain said I was never to drive this route again and apparently someone had been shot.

Welcome To Buffalo!
-N-