I have the most intense urge to travel someplace new, or even someplace old, just someplace (criteria: someplace exciting, Buffalo New York does not count). I want to have an adventure- sleep on park benches, ride camels across deserts, hit a language barrier, wear the same pair of unwashed jeans for a month. That kind of adventure. Even the prospect of an adventure inspires me. I don’t need to go tomorrow, I don’t have anywhere near the money to go tomorrow, but planning to go someday is thrilling enough. The problem is, I don’t know where to go. There are just too many choices. Italy, Greece, Paris (again), Prague, Monaco, Barcelona, Madrid, Lisbon, Fez, Egypt, Amsterdam, Turkey, Machu Pichu, Thailand, England, Quebec, Montreal, Costa Rica, Seattle, Boston, Chicago, Vermont, Savannah . For now, I’ll settle for San Francisco and home (which really isn’t at all settling). Two exams, less than two weeks, two planes and two thousand miles between me and home. I’m so ready.