she must rise again from her ashes, more beautiful than she ever was before. So this is what I'm thinking right about now. Last night was total nuclear melt down. My frustration grew to such a point that I completely imploded. The money thing is so hard to figure out. There aren't a lot of websites for American students who want to go full time to a British school (I am not going to "study abroad" so don't use that term here. This ain't a semester, this is the rest of the foreseeable future.) I was nervous about being in debt, furious at myself for not planning it better, scared that there was not a single person or website that could answer my questions, and then I found out I could only take out $18k in Stafford loans. I burst into tears and cried for hours. I even thought for a long time that I would not be able to make this happen this year, and then if not this year then never, then I might as well stay put, marry some loser and have his brat kids just like everyone else. (When I get upset my brain skyrockets out of control like this.) I thought that I wouldn't be able to get it done in time for the semester anyway, and even if I did, all this money might not be worth it. After I took some sleeping pills and calmed myself enough down to put on my new Hello Kitty sleeping mask and go to sleep, I had freaking nightmares about it all night. This is burned into my soul.

(This on top of a day where I spent a lot of time with a guy at work, Abraham, who went to the University College London, got the United Nations to pay for the whole thing and "finished in three years because I studied 10-12 hours a day." United Nations? I never thought that I would ever think, "Wow, you're so lucky to be from a third world country" but there you go!)

So today I came to work, armed with all my info, not quite ready to throw in the towel. I snuck into a guest office and called London (hopefully one of the benefits of working for a British company is that a phone call to the UK doesn't look too suspect.) The first woman I talked to in the financial aid office, I couldn't understand a word she said. She was really British and reallytalkingfast and all of a sudden she put me on hold and while I was waiting for my new best friend Paul to get on the line, I fell in love. With dialing 80 digits to call, with her accent, with the way she had to keep spelling out things with her accent because it was so thick, and with how wonderfully nice she was. Paul was awesome, he shot me emails while on the phone, answered all my questions, set me straight, chilled me out so much by the end I found myself saying "of course it isn't that much money, I can get that worked out." I am so excited now. So excited to live in a place where people will talk like that to me 24/7. And suddenly I find myself feeling like I am able to do all this. After all, if I can get a chemistry degree, de-virus my computer, survive getting evicted, tolerate this job for five years, persevere the two hundred break ups I've been through, earn a master's degree, surely surely I can figure this nonsense out.

Not only can I do it but I will do it. I am excited about going again, because for a little while there I wasn't. And when the thought of not going entered my mind last night, my heart broke. It really did. I haven't cried like that in a long time. It made me realize how badly I want it. And everything that you want that badly comes at a price. Or else it wouldn't be worth anything.

So now I'm more determined than ever before!