Illegality

When I was going through the painful process of packing my painfully small pack I made sure to make room for one thing.  A dress.  Not just any dress but the dress and I put the emphasis on the because it is the last dress that I knew Stelth really liked.  Not only liked but liked on me.  I made room for it because somewhere deep down I thought in the perfect world (the one that I was going to jump into in a matter of days) at just the right moment, I would be wearing that dress in some crazy country half way around the world and I would turn around and he would show up.  It would be perfect.

Today, while doing my normal milking routine, I thought about what I was going to pack in a month when I leave the farm.  I have acquired a few new t-shirts, a pair of pants, and a skirt......you get the point.  Do I still make room for the dress?  I like the dress.  I bought the damn thing.  So, it is not a matter of whether or not I actually like it or not.  It is an issue of whether or not I am going to allow myself to look around each corner as though something should be standing there.  

My Aunt Renee asked my mom when I was coming home to finish school.  I am sure many people are asking when I am coming home.  Well, here is my answer:

It is three months in, I am an illegal resident of the Czech Republic, I haven't even made it all the way around Europe and for those of you who are educated on global proportions, that is a small portion of the world.  I don't know whether or not I am coming home and I don't know whether or not I am packing the damn dress.