I don’t know if I ever mentioned this, but I find it impossible to do things simply. Rather than just flying from point A to point B, I have to complicate it somehow. The name of the game in the next two years will be Where in the World is Laura Theobald? To start off with, I’m currently spending two months in Vienna to do an intensive German course.
Whaaaaaat?? Vienna? German? What does this have to do with getting a masters degree in history from an English university? To explain- the majority of historians are multi-lingual. Being from the United States where being fluent in a foreign language isn’t exactly a priority, I’m behind (even for American PhD programs). I happen to love German history. I order German films from Netflix and think of papers to write about them in my spare time. I want to focus on German history. This involves learning German. Why learn German in Austria? Because they had a program that fit with my time frame, ending the weekend before I start orientation in Nottingham.
Oh, but I couldn’t just fly from Tucson to Vienna. No, no, that’s too simple. I inherited the gene from my mother to search for the cheapest ticket, looking at every single possible fare combination. I found that using miles to get from Tucson to Boston, then picking up a flight to Europe from there could save about $300. Also on the East Coast is my dear friend Sarah, who I have known since the 5th grade and has managed to be one of two people I still talk to from high school.
Her family owns a house right by the ocean in Maine, so I scheduled myself a weeklong layover to stay with them. It ended up being a very good decision. Up until my flight from Tucson, I was stressed and frazzled. Squeezing in a few extra hours of work and rushing around town, seeing people and getting all packed up. In Maine, I got a few days to relax. All of my stuff was already packed and waited in a corner for me. I could enjoy nature and catching up on some reading and visiting with people I may not see for a long time as they live on the East Coast.
On Saturday, the day of my flight, I took a bus back into Boston and saw my sorority big sister, Cindy. She was someone who was always there for me when I really needed her when I was in college, so it was good that I was able to spend a few hours getting lost with her in Boston. We also happened upon a Panera to eat my last meal in the U.S. in, appropriate since it was one of my favorites in college and a place I used to go to a lot with my sorority sisters (Cindy included).
She dropped me off at the airport, and I held back tears so that way I could look like the calm, cool, collected international traveler I like to pretend to be when I’m flying. I guess in some ways that distinction is true, especially with all of my travels of the next few years.
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