The BIG News (no, Hugh Jackman and I aren't engaged. Yet)

A really long time ago, on a whim, I applied to graduate school. I was going through some big life changes and I figured that I would just see what could happen. (please note that my father encouraged me to apply to grad school--he was not specific as to where!)

Then my dear Molly got accepted to Cambridge and I shouted it from the rooftops. And then a friend encouraged me to try my hand at graduate school in the UK saying that I'd never know until I try.

Tis true.... 

So, I did.

And I waited.

And waited some more.

And my life went on. I learned yoga. I got a new job. I fell in love with my new life--my life filled with dance, yoga, running, musicals and travel. I had friends to spend holidays with, I had races to run, I had things to do, people to see--I was happy.

Then, one day, I received an email saying the institution I applied to would like to interview me. I jumped at it. I ran around my office screaming like a child and frantically responded with "YES WHAT TIME I CAN DO WHENEVER SERIOUSLY WHENEVER LETS TALK".

The interview was scheduled. It was Skype. At 6am my time. I would need to look fabulous. I studied up on the professor interviewing me. I read student profiles. I re-read parts of The Odyssey. I researched classes. My friends came over the night before and prayed with me. They calmed me down and said such wonderful things. They shared their King's experiences with me. I knew it all. I was prepared.

When the video call came in, I thought I was going to puke I was so nervous. (didn't help that the dude interviewing me was cute with a capital CUUUUUUUTE)

But, I pushed that aside and spoke. I spoke from my heart. I fought for what I wanted, I used this as a chance to make my voice heard. I explained why I had applied. How my life had changed, and how grateful I would be for the opportunity.

While I felt good at the end of the interview, I had my doubts. My GPA wasn't that high and I was applying to one of the smallest (read: most impacted) programmes in the University.

I obsessively checked the website, anxious to just see the "rejected" and move on with my life. I wouldn't allow myself to look at classes, or order books (as the professor recommended), or even tell anyone the truth behind my vague tweets and instagrams. I couldn't jinx it.

I hit the refresh button like it was my job.

Until, 5 minutes before I had to teach a pure barre class--at my actual job-- the words "unconditional offer" popped up. And I screamed. And cried. And ran outside to call and text everyone I knew. Then I cried some more. My entire body was shaking. I could hardly hold my phone.

The thing I've wanted since before I can even remember, the thing I've dreamt about at night, that thing is real. Is happening.

I'm moving to London!!!

(also titled "I'm moving halfway across the world on several weeks notice and FREAKING THE HECK OUT")

At The Tower embracing my new HOMETOWN

To study Classics at King's College London.

You know, it's one of those Smart People schools (I am not Smart People)! Ahhh!!

Where, everyday, I will get off the District Line at Temple station, walk a few hundred feet, and be at school.

Mind the Gap

I will have lunch along the Thames, and drag my friends to Balan's for a dirty breakfast at 3am. I will shut down The Lyric. The V and A will be my classroom. I will ride horses in Hyde Park. I will take the train to Brighton with Molly and make her ride roller coasters. I will go punting in Cambridge. I will walk my dogs in Notting Hill. I will stalk Tam Mutu outside The Queen's.

I will do everything I've ever wanted, everything I've ever dreamt about.

It's all happening.

It's the scariest thing that I've ever done. I'm packing up my life on a few weeks notice and moving across the world. I'm changing everything I've ever known! I didn't know I had it in me to do this--I didn't know King's would even take a chance on me.

King's College London on The Strand

But, here I am. Mere weeks away from receiving a student discount on my Oyster card (and at Ted Baker, I can't even tell you how excited I am about THAT); weeks away from the thing I never believed I could have. Weeks away from waking up in London, and finally being able to call it my home. From hopping a 40 minute train to see my beloved Molly. From Nando's dinners with her and late night chats on the floor of her flat while watching New Girl. Weeks away from the greatest, scariest, biggest adventure ever.

"It's time to close my eyes, take a chance and leap"

I'm scared to death. Scared to pack up my life, leave my amazing friends, leave my J-O-B that I love, leave my running group, leave my Texas. I'm scared I will get to London and hate it. That the dream I've always had will be a nightmare. I'm scared of my classes--am I smart enough for this? I'm scared I won't get the chance to LIVE. I'm scared of everything. But, I can't let that hold me back. I can't miss the chance of a lifetime!

Sometimes, dreams come true. Sometimes, things work out. Sometimes, it's better than you imagined it could be.

"The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward."

Now, here's to hoping Prince Harry bumps into me on one of my runs through St. James Park and falls madly in love with me. I mean, let's be honest, that's the real game plan here--marry a Brit.

London, baby!