A tight, queasy knot.

The night is setting on life as I know it. Tomorrow morning, I fly for Toronto, and step alone into a new life, in a new town.

I didn't think it would be so hard. Not the packing, and no, not even the bureaucracy. I mean leaving all these wonderful people behind. My stomach churns, knowing that I won't see them for at least a year. And to think - I don't even know some of them that long.

Even though I've been working like a demon, I've had the best summer of my life. For the first time in my life, I feel comfortable - like I really belong. Now, with immaculate timing, I'm about to pull up those new and happy roots.

Don't get me wrong. I'm really looking forward to Toronto. This is going to be the time of my life. However, unlike previous trips abroad, a year (or two?) away carries hefty opportunity costs. Parties will be had without me there. Where someone would have called me up, another number will be dialled. People move on. They grow, they change, they hurt, they bleed. They sing, they laugh, they love, they cry. Friendships fade. Or alternatively, they endure, without the stress of another year at close quarters. What will be for each and every one?

Who shall I call? A friend can be replaced, or more precisely, can be substituted. The loss can be absorbed. Friends, on the other hand, are irreplaceable.

Life is a rollercoaster. Not because it has ups and downs - then it could just be a wave. No, it's because thrills, excitement, anxiety and terror all come together in one giddy, compelling and frightening brew.

And so ends my last post from Dublin. Stay tuned over the coming week for the first bulletin from Toronto. Remember - I'll be back. ;)

Stepping (gingerly) onto the dancefloor. Or table.

Tomorrow, I shall be attending my first hip-hop dancing class. Technically, it'll be later today, but I stubbornly cling to my body clock rather than the beast of Greenwich.

Dance lessons have always been on my to-do list, but sufficiently low on the ladder to ensure that I never got around to them. I think they ranked just below climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, but a tad above learning what 'qua' meant. Ah, qua. The online dictionary does not do the word justice. Comprehending Qua is the philosophical equivalent of hazing.

If ever a post of mine digressed...

There are three reasons why I'm taking a leap into the supple and sultry world of hip-hop dancing. For one, my dancing skills were put to the test on a night out last Friday, and I was found a little wanting. Of course, I was slightly tipsy and on a table at the time. (Of course...) The audience seemed to approve, but I felt my performance lacked that special zing. Zing being a precious combination of technique and rhythm. Ah, Coyote Ugly... Secondly, I've finished college, yet I still have some dignity intact. This problem ought to be remedied, though as you can see from the preceding few lines, I'm an excellent problem-solver. The primary reason, however, is that the opportunity simply presented itself.

This should be fun. :)