"Frodo-Syndrome"

I'm glad that we are still writing here. After a few days of “moping” around, my mom jokingly diagnosed me with "Frodo-Syndrome"...referring of course to the end of Lord of the Rings when Frodo was still feeling the effects of his stab-wound...and reflecting on his journey and (at least in the film) said something along the lines of "How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on... when in your heart... you begin to understand... there is no going back? "

Anyway...I fortunately was NOT stabbed, and perhaps I am overly-sentimental (haha)...but, at least right now, nothing else seems as good as gallivanting about the countryside with 23 other fantastic people whom I now deeply cherish.

I find myself sitting in my summer class…wondering who the heck those 35 people are and why they absolutely refuse to believe in hominids…or that there were indeed matriarchal societies before 1500 …which I suppose is either religious or extremely closed-minded.

Like Esther, I’ve been comparing EVERYTHING to Ireland. My dad and brother have fortunately been camping since I’ve been home, but my poor mom is probably about ready to shoot me. :P (And that sentence makes me sad…because I just realized the only people I’ve spoken with since I’ve been back have been my parents and brother.) Feel free to call or instant message if any of you are as bored as I am.

I’ve really enjoyed looking at everyone’s pictures. Keep posting them!! J

I miss you all.