Michigan-bound and sleep-deprived.

The phrase “Gate subject to change” is one that can elicit a host of different reactions when it is spoken or heard or disclosed by a receipt printed off of a boarding pass in an airport. Usually frustration and panic are among those more common. Today, my reaction is more accepting and relaxed, because when the gate in question has yet to ascertain an identity in the first place, then it had better freaking be subject to change.

Hi! It’s four in the morning, and I’m in Minnesota. This is unusual, but in Minnesota, it’s six in the morning, so it’s slightly more commonplace; the real oddity is how voraciously I am consuming these raisins. Either way, I’ve had one hour of sleep, so none of this should matter. I am, truthfully, a sight for sore eyes, because sore eyes in an airport deserve a laugh, and that is what I am bound to be drawing out of people. I considered counting the number of colors that adorn me, but my sore eyes have decided against it; chai tea lattes can only wake you up so much. Minnesota is my only stop (albeit a 7 hour one) on my way to Michigan, where I will be for the next five weeks studying animal ecology and aquatic biology by Lake Michigan (aptly named, if you prefer your visitors to have none but the obvious expectations—a lake, in Michigan). If you want to know why, just accept the fact that you may never know, because I refuse to explain it, on no grounds other than the usual: I do what I want.

I have never been to Minnesota, so I am perfectly happy being here. From the sky, it looks like a mint-chocolate cookie with freezer burn: it is very green and brown, with a lot of lakes (it is “the Land of a Thousand Lakes,” so this discovery is not surprising…except it was for me, because I was under the impression that the Land of a Thousand Lakes was Michigan, OOPS) and at the moment, a lot of fog. It also has a fabulous airport, with nice little desks where wanderers can blog out their feelings (as contemporary wanderers are so prone to do) and free unlimited 45 minute sessions of wifi as long as you keep taking their survey. I’m sure there are a lot of business people with more important things to do at this desk, but that is something I have decided not to care about. Besides, the view is nice from this window, if you like planes and a refreshed sense of adventure every time you see one.

So...thus far today I have slept briefly, conversed casually with the lady next to me on the plane, accidentally ordered two breakfast sandwiches instead of one, ate two breakfast sandwiches gratefully, and texted my mom and my boyfriend (the classic combo). I will probably text Nicole when she is awake, but as I stated earlier, it is 4…almost 5 in the morning, in both my brain and California.

I left last night in a frazzle, which always happens whenever I go anywhere, so that’s fine. I planned everything for this trip myself, and am covering all of it myself, and I am going by myself. It's a landmark. Also, I can’t stand that in between stage where you feel pulled in every direction, like you should be preparing to go and maximizing your time with friends and soaking in the moments with your family at your brother’s graduation and panicking over the fact that your school billed you for the wrong study abroad program or the fact that the flight that you thought you had booked never really existed. All of that, all in the gumbo of despair. I handled it poorly—naturally I cried a lot and called myself stupid—but new insight: self-deprecation can easily result from stress, which is reason to doubt its validity. Even newer insight: it gets basically nothing done. What does get things done is writing down your confirmation number before you go to print your boarding passes at the airport. Again, oops.

I don’t have a lot more to say. I’ve cried a lot this weekend, mostly from frustration, but that’s to be expected. I shivered the whole way off the plane because that’s just what I do when I change temperatures. I feel kind of dizzy, but I don’t think my level of caffeine intake has been, like, responsible, so...for the third time, oops. I also probably have to go to the bathroom. I probably will take my socks off, because I need to learn how to adjust the straps on these Chacos before I let them slowly saw my big toes off, and why not now, as I have...six hours, to learn how to do anything in the universe.

Summary: I look like a fool, and I’m in Minnesota. And I’m alive. And for what the cliché is worth, “I’m going on an adventure!”