There's a poser, no doubt about it

What does untouched wilderness have in common with a swarming metropolis?

          I feel the same way about London as I did about going to the Boundary Waters for a month. Excitement, undeniably. But there's a little part of me that wonders if I'm merely excited because it's something I'm supposed to be excited about - going to London! going to the Boundary Waters! And I am looking forward to it. But I don't know what I'm excited about. It's so far removed from my experiences thus far that I can't even begin to imagine what life there will be like.

          And, admittedly, I'm dreading just a little what I'll do for a semester. It's a short one, only three months long, but nonetheless ...

          It's like last July. I like the outdoors, the sun, canoeing, sure, but can I do it for a whole month? Can I handle it? Or will I get two weeks in and regret it? It turned out all right - I'd go back to the boundary waters in a heartbeat - but there was that deep uncertainty going into it.

          But I suppose that's also the allure. Last summer, it was a test. The sort of "Can I do it - rough it, brave the elements, sweat, dirt, stave off the mosquitos" mentality. It was a challenge. And it's more of the same now. Only instead of portaging, it's walking the city; instead of mosquitos, its learning the Underground; instead of bad weather and knee-high mud, it's meeting new people.

          I guess I can't call it nerves or anxiety. Because, really, when I think about it, I want to be there so badly I can taste it, like fog and wet pavement. I want to be out there, forced on my own, forced to see how I'll fare out there in the great wide open. I want to be lost amid the rest of humanity, having to learn on the fly.

          So much of what I know, here at home, is ease. The comfort of familiarity. But, right now, I don't want comfort. The Boundary Waters was a shock - a jolt from the normal routine. I had to readjust, adapt, melt a little. I think I became a better person. And I've sunk again into this soft monotony. And I want to be shaken again. I want to get out and breathe the air, I want to savor change.

          I don't need sharp rocks or harsh sunlight this time. I need the seething streets of London. Friends to be sought out and made. Professors to be met. Independence.

          So I guess, really, part of what I want to take away from London is not just friendships and knowledge and memories and a pretentious accent ... but a degree self-reliance. Confidence.

          Maybe that's a tall order. I don't know. I'll just have to wait and see. That's the point of anticipation.