Four hours.

I'm leaving for India in four hours. Four. That's one less than the number of fingers I have on each of my hands. Also, that's the number of guys in 98 Degrees (remember them?). Four.

I just spent the last half-hour reading through my pre-Korea posts, and I stumbled across this one. Fifteen months ago, I was preparing for my first across-the-oceans adventure, and I was scared out of my mind. I remember wanting to unpack all my bags and beg for my job back, but I didn't. I hopped on a plane and moved to a country I knew nothing about, and it was one of the best things I've done in my life. I remember being so terrified that Korea would chew me up and spit me out, that I'd hate every second and wish I'd never left the comforts of America's suburbs, yet I've spent the last three months wishing I were back in that smoggy, crowded city.

I know I won't regret this new adventure just like I'm forever grateful for my time in Korea. The anticipation just sucks.

It's going to be strange traveling with fifteen other people, sharing living space, and not being able to "kamsahamnida" my way out of awkward situations. But overall, it's easier this time. I know that no matter what country I find myself in, I'm just me, and I always like ice cream.