O, how the wheel becomes it!

On Today's Menu: A New Chapter

Life is interesting. The twists and the turns that it takes. In one minute you think you have it all figured out. In the next you are completely clueless as to where you are and what you should do next. Had you asked me in mid-December about my future plans I would have given an indefinite response. Ask me now...I can tell you that "the plan" has become much, much more specified.

I have spent this past year researching various schools and academic programs hoping to find one that could be a "next step" towards a professional goal. I applied to a few, was accepted to some. However, and for whatever reason, nothing significant became of it. I really wanted to find a school with an excellent communications program and one where I could continue my studies in Spanish simultaneously...I was coming up short.

The first week of December I received in the mail a notification from Asbury College inviting me to a forum, which would be held in Bowling Green and would be given by the directors of the college's communications department. I decided to go, not really out of interest, but to support Asbury. I hadn't really kept up with the latest Asbury news, so I was unaware of the growth that had taken place at the school in recent years. Did you know the communication's department has developed a graduate program? Cause I sure didn't.

My mom suggested submitting an application for the next school year. I did. A week later I received a response: I had been accepted into the program beginning January 2010. It was good news, but unrealistic, I felt. This was mid-December. How on earth could I possibly get all my ducks in a row by January? I decided to make a trip to the school myself to see about correcting this. When I arrived to the admissions office, the counselor had everything laid out for me....scholarships, class schedules, housing....you name it....it was there. I was astounded. I didn't know what to think. Everything happened so quickly. Everything fell right into place. Everything. After a year of waiting, hoping, trusting...it felt as if God stepped in and connected all the dots for me, making a clear path for me to follow...just as He promised He would. I even get to study Spanish.

I would have never, ever, ever in one thousand, million years have guessed that I would go back to Asbury College. Life is certainly interesting when we finally give God all control.

It is, indeed, a new year. Happy 2010 faithful reader.

Chicago Excursion #2

On Today's Menu: VISA. It's everywhere you want to be...but won't always get to be.

I forget how much I love big cities until I visit one. The tall buildings, the unique smells, the variety of people, the outrageous number of Starbucks cafes...I'm captivated by it all. I turn into a different person when I travel. I become abnormally confident and seem to exude self-assuredness that is noticeable to those around me. This is especially true when I go solo and when I travel to a place I am not very familiar with. The more foreign the place, the more confidence I have. Weird, I know. Seems like it should be the other way around. I have decided to place the blame on my fascination with culture. I hate being a tourist. I like to blend in. Not because I fear rejection, have low self-esteem, or any other such psycho babble...but because I love to observe a society as it is. Designate me the fly on the wall, describe me as cultural camouflage, whatever. It's my life's calling.

Recently, I made a much anticipated journey to Chicago in order to reclaim my passport from the Spanish Consulate. Being the swashbuckler that I tend to be, I decided to make this trip all in one day. This meant getting up at 3am to catch a flight out of Nashville, layover in Atlanta, hit Chicago's Midway Airport, take the subway (or El as they call it) to the Consulate, pick up the passport, get back on the El, go back to Midway, go back to Atlanta, touchdown in Nashville around 11pm. Long day. What could I have possibly been thinking, you ask? Indeed it was: Why do I have to go further south in order to go north? I resolved that I shall never know the answer to that question. (Probably not the response you assumed?)

I make it sound as if I had zero time when, in fact, I had loads of time on my hands. I spent a couple hours in Atlanta and about seven hours in Chicago. My main objective for the day was, actually, not to pick up my passport, but it was to not focus on the pointlessness of this trip. Yes, I needed to get my passport back. But the academic endeavor that I had spent so much time preparing for, fell through at the last minute, thus rendering the visa so neatly affixed to my passport useless. It was quite the bummer, I will admit. I was, needless to say, disappointed when they handed me said visa (which would have allowed me to stay in Spain for the entirety of 2010) knowing full well that I wouldn't get to use even one day of it. But, as I previously mentioned, all my efforts were put forth into not fixating on this fact. Instead my focus was remembering that God has a marvelous plan for the future. I just know it. He is full of wonderful surprises, no?!

Anyhow, I decided to spend my seven hours in Chicago experiencing what I could. I went to the park, to the pier, to Starbucks (it was a must), walked up and down the Magnificent Mile, scoped out Chicago University...the confidence thing I mentioned before was kicking into overdrive by this point. So much so that I had numerous people stopping me on the street, as well as people on the El, asking me for directions and at what stop to get off in order to reach this street or that store. What was crazy was that I was able to tell them. What was even more crazy was that I was right. I've been to Chicago exactly three times. Never spent more than forty-eight hours at a time there. Nor had I ever been there by myself. I say this not as bragging...believe you me...but I say it with astonishment. I learned a lot that day. I find learning something new to be enthralling. Possibly even more so when it involves the illumination of one's own character.

And so, for the moment I shall remain in the land of the Bluegrass, plotting my next adventure, believing God has already laid out the groundwork.

Chicago Excursion #1

On Today's Menu: The Spanish Consulate, The Visa, and Me

"Next day new steps were to be taken: my plans could no longer be confined to my own breast; I must impart them in order to achieve their success."

--excerpt from Jane Eyre

I have discovered first hand that obtaining a visa takes a lot out of a person. Monumental amounts of paperwork must be filled out, fees paid, proof of admission to your chosen school provided, insurance details taken care of, yadda, yadda, ya. What's more is that the Spanish Consulate requires all applicants to apply in person and then, upon approval, return to the consulate to pick up their visa, again in person. Doesn't really sound like a big deal, but when I live in Kentucky and the Spanish Consulate is located in downtown Chicago...kinda becomes a big deal. I wonder if a personal appearance is required by other country's consulates...or is this just Spain's policy? Hm.

Anyway, after spending the past month gathering all the necessary information to make said visa approval possible, I traveled this weekend to Chicago to make my first appearance at the Spanish Consulate. Fortunately, I didn't have to go it alone on this one--thankfully my dad came along for this particular part of the journey. His accompaniment was most appreciated, especially since I was overwrought with anxiety and the fact that Chicago is a rather large city where I had absolutely no idea as to how to get anywhere with much ease. And so, despite my apprehension, together we tromped through the miserable cold and rain, admittedly made a couple wrong turns, but eventually found the consulate, and ahead of our scheduled appointment time!

I don't know, really, what I was expecting...maybe an interview, maybe I would be required to fill out more paperwork...not sure. What happened was: I walked into this small waiting room with about ten chairs seated right in the middle of the room, walls totally bare, about four students and one Spaniard lingering around, and one women seated at a desk behind three sliding glass windows...you know, like the ones you see in doctor's offices? There was no where to sign in, no numbers taken...it was weird. Dad told me to go to the window and tell the lady I was here for my appointment and she very abruptly told me to go sit down...didn't take my name...nada...very weird. Anyway, she worked with a few of the other students and when she finally looked at me said, "Well, you're next. Get up here." Hmmm. I walked up there. "Get out your paperwork." So I got out the paperwork. She didn't read a thing or ask me any questions, but proceeded to make numerous stamps and markings on each of the papers. "Where is your police report?" Police report? What police report? I need a police report? I told her this. "I can't approve your application without a police report." Okay...aaaaaaand panic attack. Apparently, since the program I am entering lasts two years, there are other documents needed to go along with my application. I was completely unaware. Fortunately, she said I had enough documentation to be approved for six months, after which I will have to return to the states to do this entire lovely process aaallll over again. Imagine my excitement. But, I guess that is better than the alternative, though. She could have not approved me at all and then I wouldn't be able to begin the program until next fall. Also, this way I will get to come home and see my family...see how I am choosing to focus on the positive here?

So. When it comes to the visa thing all I have to do at this point is sit and wait. I will have to write to the consulate via email in six weeks to "check my status" and see about getting an appointment to come and pick it up. This means another trip to Chicago...in the dead of winter...for a five minute "appointment." Oh well...so be it! No one said it would be easy! And it's one more thing I can check off the To-Do-List!

I'm A Nerd

On Today's Menu: I Love School!

It's officially official. I have officially been accepted by the Universidad de San Luis in Madrid, officially declared my confirmation of attendance to the school, and am now an official student of SLU. Yeehaw!

The past month has been an absolute whirlwind of pragmatism, anticipation, and interminable anxiety. But I assure you, faithful reader, things are steadily coming together. My advisors at SLU have been nothing but helpful and so far, every administrator I have been in contact with has actually made me feel that they would be pleased if I did, in fact, attend their institution. I'm sad to say it, but I think somewhere in the previous years I became too conditioned to UK's perspective on academia...they don't give a crap if you attend their school in hopes of actually learning something useful, they are just happy to see your tuition paid. No offense UK lovers; this is just one lowly graduate's scrupulous observation.

Anyway. The past two weeks have been spent emailing back and forth with my academic advisor (who is in Madrid) and together we have formulated a master academic plan! According to this plan I should be able to complete the program in two years...which is great news to me because, well, this little endeavor is gonna cost me one pretty penny. I figure two years is definitely enough time for me to get a firm grasp on the language and culture, but it is also short enough that it won't send me into the deepest and darkest of debt abysses.

My first semester I will have fifteen hours, which isn't bad since I will not be working. Here's my plan for Spring '10:

✏ Spanish Written Communication (3hrs)

✏ Spanish Oral Communication (3hrs)

✏ International Culture and Ethics (3hrs)

✏ Religion and Culture (3hrs)

✏ Intercultural Communications (3hrs) -- subject to change.

I will have to complete these basic courses before jumping into the real meat of the study program. It's just like any other school: "standard education requirements must be fulfilled by every permanent student prior to disciplinary studies." You can read all about it in the fine print. Still, in looking ahead, the classes my advisor has lined up for me in future semesters sound most intriguing...I'm pretty excited. Just call me Nerd.

Sup amigos?

On Today's Menu: i'm such a slacker.

I haven't blogged since August 10th?!?! Wow...how lazy am I??? What a display of irresponsibility and complete negligence to you, my faithful reader. Thanks for sticking around. I'm fairly certain that if the situation was reversed, I would have abandoned this project many moons ago.

So what's new? As of right now, everything is poking along just as close to normal as can be here in the Bluegrass. I have gotten back into the swing of things at work, I have resumed my obsessive compulsions to watch any and all things tennis, I just started reading another amazing book by one of my favorite authors, and I am continuing my research of various masters programs, schools, etc. So you can probably see by now why I haven't blogged in a while...not much to report on.

However! (yay for However!) Recent events have changed that! While I was in Spain this summer I learned of an American university (based in Saint Louis, Missouri) that has a second campus in Madrid and they happen to offer the degree I'm looking for (that being Spanish Language and Culture). How crazy is that? They take sixty students per year and the entire program is taught at the campus in Spain. Who knew? Anyway, I submitted an application...last week I received a letter of confirmation of my acceptance into the program beginning in the January term...WILD. It's really exciting, no? But it's also a little nerve racking...I mean, now I have a thousand things to think about: tuition? student visa? scholarship?...a tad overwhelming.

Anyway...I think I'm going to make a go of it...one step at a time. So stay tuned. There's more to come!

Here, There, and Everywhere

On Today's Menu: 

Leah and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

So...things didn't quite go according to plan. I just scanned over my last blog entry and...wow...I made that sound so simple. What was I thinking? It's never that simple. Here's how it really happened: 

Part 1: The Night Bus

First off, the night bus to Madrid dropped me off at the wrong bus station. I was supposed to go straight to the airport but instead I ended up at the Who-Knows-Where-Station incredibly tired after staying up all night and completely clueless as to where I needed to go next. I wandered around for a while, trying my absolute best to not have a panic attack, until I was approached by a man who claimed to be a taxi driver. Indeed he was a taxi driver...but he was also a sleazeball who had predetermined it was beneficial to take advantage of lost, confused, panic-stricken American students. It just so happened that he spotted me; therefore, I got to be his next unfortunate target. Lucky me. My Spanish, thankfully, did not fail me completely, so I was able to call him out on his thievery. However, it was to no avail. He still took off with just about all the money I had. Nice way to start off the trip, no?

Part 2: The Madrid Experience

Once I found my way into the most confusing airport in the world, I had about an hour before my flight was scheduled to take off. Being so, I swiftly sought out the airline I would be traveling with so that I could check in like the carefree passenger I was trying so hard to be. However, once I got to the counter, I was told that my flight would be delayed for an unknown reason and for an unknown amount of time. I was issued a new boarding pass, assigned a new seat number, the whole deal. It really wasn't a problem...until I noticed that the minutes were starting to rack up... minutes became an hour...and then some...and then some more... My attempts at being carefree vanished when I realized that if I did not leave Madrid soon, I would miss my connecting flight in London and then I would really be up a creek. As luck would have it, my newly assigned seat was located in the very last row in the very back of the plane. When I saw this I knew that the whole connecting flight thing was not going to happen. I needed to switch airlines in London, get a new boarding pass, go through customs, locate my luggage...

Part 3: Stranded in London

As luck would have it I landed in London about 45 minutes before my connecting flight to Chicago left. People, I ran like a mad person through that airport, threw myself onto the bus headed towards my next terminal, and prayed to God that I made it in time. I didn't. Oh well, I thought, it's only noon, I'll just catch the afternoon flight. Wrong. When I went to switch my ticket, the nice people from British Airlines told me that they didn't have another flight to the states (not just to Chicago, but to the entire USofA) until the following afternoon. It got even better when they told me I would have to go back to Iberia, my previous airline from Madrid, to set up hotel accommodations. That was the really fun part. I was bounced around from counter to counter from personnel to personnel, asking the same questions, looking for the same answers...and I got to do it ALL in Spanish! Yay! Talk about challenging. Anyway, eventually I found the right people and they took pretty good care of me, I must admit. They put me up in a five star hotel in central London, gave me free meal vouchers to a fancy restaurant, provided me with free transportation to and from the airport...I can't complain.

Part 4: The Windy City

The next day I made my way back to Heathrow, where I went through that same old routine I was getting to know so well: new boarding pass, seat assignment, luggage, customs, etc. It was a pain, but I was pleasantly surprised when British Airways offered to bump me up to first class "for all my troubles." I agreed, even though it meant I had to run across the airport to get to the flight they were talking about. Fortunately, I made it, and the next thing I knew I was soaring through the clouds, drinking a Coca-Cola and watching Star Trek on the little TV screen installed in the back of the seat in front of me. Nine lengthy hours later we touched down and my feet found themselves, once again, on American soil. If you have ever been on an international flight, you know that the first thing you feel after deplaning is not relief to be home, but disgust at how gross you look. Seeing as I had been wearing the same clothes since Thursday the very first thing I did was go to one of the little airport shops and buy a new shirt. I didn't even look at it...just picked it up and bought it. 

I was feeling pretty good after that; I had a clean shirt, I had found my luggage, and I had plenty of time to locate the check-in counter for American Airlines. That was when my deepest fear became reality...my luggage disappeared. As I was waiting to check-in with American, one of the employees grabbed my suitcase and threw it onto the conveyer belt, telling me that I didn't need to check it since I had just come off a connecting flight. Like and idiot, I believed him. Apparently, due to all the mix up in London my case was only checked through to Chicago, not Nashville. They told me there was nothing they could do about it and I would have to file a formal claim in Nashville. That was when I hit breaking point. I was unbelievably stressed out, tired, dirty, and ready to punch someone. Don't worry I didn't punch anyone...but I did call my dad and start to cry. It sucked.

Part 4: My Old Kentucky Home

Anyway, I finally arrived in Nashville sometime Sunday evening...luggage free...but still somewhat conscious. It was a sight for sore eyes to see my parents waiting for me outside the terminal and I was relieved that they were a little more cognizant than I, so the issue of claim filing was taken care of rather quickly. Not long after, we made our way over the state line and back into the land of the Bluegrass. Horses, Cracker Barrel, white picket fences... Good old Kentucky. Home sweet home.

Homeward Bound

On Today's Menu: The Itinerary

I'm leaving Granada within the hour. I'll be taking the midnight bus to Madrid where I will fly to London around 8:30am. From there I will work my way around the world until I reach Chicago and plan to meet up with my Dad(!) who happens to be there for a meeting. Together we will hop a flight to Nashville and then make our way into the Bluegrass via Toyota. It's going to be a long trip...about 28 hours total with layovers included. 

I'll be sure to post again once I arrive and will have had some much needed sleep. So stay tuned...I'll see you on the flip side!