They say that there is a thin line between love and hate; I think that it can be considered true about most of the strong emotions. The thing is that sometimes it seems as if it’s all a matter of definitions, whether I decide to call it depression and sadness or rather euphoria and joy. The level of excitement in the brain is the same.

Now, what the fuck am I talking about? You see, I can’t quite decide how I feel about this trip.

There are times when I tell people that I’m going to study for one semester in the states and then travel for a while and all that, and it sounds absolutely great. What can be better? New country, new people, excitement, crap like that. And when I tell about it, I feel like the luckiest girl ever “look at me, I’m all grown up now, going to study and travel abroad”… That’s the euphoria part.

And then there are those times when I find myself alone in my room, staring at the familiar walls, wandering “what the fuck was I thinking?! Is it too late to cancel? Maybe just cancel the ticket and it will all go away?” Cummon, don’t say I’m a chicken, It’s just pretty scary! To be all alone, new school, new kids, I don’t even know if I like Americans… They all talk funny and pretend they care… And I didn’t get all the courses I wanted, and the ones I got I’m not sure I want.

What was wrong with staying here? In the war stricken, good old, hot-as-hell,
Israel?

I got one semester left, I know the drill, lot’s of spare time on my hands, all of my friends have moved to Tel Aviv (finally, you see the light!)… Hang out? Go to the beach? But no! I’ll go and freeze to death with those snobbish IV league kids, who are 10 years younger then I am and think it’s cool that I’ve been to the army (how little do they know).

That’s the depression part (for all of you who fail to keep track of my whining post).

And I don’t have any winter clothe…

And no shoes either…

And I get these mails from Penn about orientation saying “On Sunday we will all go for a tour in the old city, and then have a drink at Joe’s and then a steak at Mike’s and after that totally informal cheese and wine evening, no tie (but no jeans either)…We are so cool and welcoming and we love you all and welcome diversity…” GOD!

I already hate them…

And the girl I’m going with asked me to baby-sit her dog…

Dear friends, help little Lika to feel better about herself (although most of you think it’s fun and envy me for going).

Or just say whatever you feel like.

P.S. next time I promise more foul language, more juicy stuff and maybe even some legal stuff to keep it down to earth. I’m warming up… Keep track…