And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you

Last Friday here in Berlin.

It's been a rather terrible week here on this side of the pond, but at least I'm mostly done with classes. I'm having some issues getting my final paper to my professor, but hopefully those will iron themselves out.

I've got some of my stuff all packed up and I need to go shopping for some last minute Berlin souvenirs for the family and do one more load of laundry. My flight out to Madrid is at 7am Monday morning, and for the first leg I'll be on the same plane as Nicola, one of the other girls from my program. Maybe we'll even get to sit together.

I get into O'Hare around 2pm on Monday, and it will be so nice to see my parents there waiting for me. I was talking with a friend here the other day about how I'm probably one of the last generations of travellers that can remember being met or dropped off at the gate. When we flew when I was little, or during the time that my father lived in different state from my mom and I, all our trips to the airport would consist of going in and sitting with the person by their gate until they boarded their plane. I can remember my brother and Linda meeting us when we went to California when I was in Kindergarten, my Mom was hugging the strange man with long hair (Michael, the bro) that I didn't recognize as soon as we stepped out of the boarding walkway. I think that because I grew up with that, it has had an influence on how I think travel should go. It's an interesting affectation of mine that one of the most important things in the world to me is being met by someone after I've traveled. That is one of the most meaningful things that someone can do for me. How funny, eh? Even when I know that no one will be there, I always look around the airport, or train station, to see if someone took the time or cared enough to surprise me.

I think we got on this subject because of Schöenfeld airport, the one I've done most of my flying into and out of on this trip is set up so that when you go to leave the secure terminal you walk through a set of frosted automatic doors and there is always a crowd of people that jump or look really excited, thinking maybe it's their loved one that is coming through. The last time I went through (after I looked around, of course) I remember thinking that the next time I fly, there will be someone waiting for me. I guess it was a warm feeling....

Alright, I have to go to my dinner. I'm hungry, I took my host brother, Leo to the pool in our neighborhood today. I've just been trying to keep busy to keep my mind occupied with things other than all that's floating around in it. It's just been a rough week.

Love to all at Home, three days.
*Miranda