couldn't wait to get going but wasn't quite ready to leave.

It's been almost officially five years since my parents and I pulled out of the driveway on Scio Church Road in Ann Arbor to move to Eau Claire, yet still I cannot seem to shake the fear that all endings are fully finite, even though I've been proved otherwise many times. I'm still friends with those I left in Ann Arbor; I'm still friends with those I graduated with in Eau Claire; I'm still friends with those from DePauw who I've been away from this entire semester. These success stories, though, cannot win against the pit in my stomach that arises at the end of an era, any era, from which I'm not quite ready to part. I'm sure you can imagine that the last few weeks, this week, hell, the past 24 hours, have been a constant reel of "the last time we'll do this" or "the last time I'll see that"; I even mentioned to Maddie the last time she was going on Facebook in her room at St. Hilda's College on the eve of her departure. My mind has been trained over the past five years to categorize these memories, to take snapshots of these seemingly miniscule everyday absurdities to keep in my mind in case they ever need to be remembered in full detail. Ever since I was 16, endings, goodbyes, have plagued me and made me bow down to them as if they have the right to tell me something is really and truly...over.

It's been a long road, this trip to Australia. I've done more, seen more, traveled more, felt more, loved more, missed more, than I ever thought possible, but it feels like yesterday that I stepped off the plane in Melbourne and into the infamous Miami Hotel of my very first blog entry. How is it that something I spent so much time planning for and anticipating can be over in the blink of an eye? What if I'm not ready to give up this time, this precious time, that was given to me simply to figure myself out, away from the assumptions and constraints on who I've always been in my past lives? I know that I can always come back here and find my way breezily around the CBD and Queen Vic; I know, too, that I can always skype Dejan in Auckland to say hi, and call Maddie on my blackberry when something funny comes up...but I'm still left wondering if it will ever feel the same as it has felt over the past five months, when the places and the people were held in suspense and it was just us, now, escaping the rest of the world together, finding our own way in a place and a time unknown. Maybe I am just afraid that when I step off the plane on Saturday, my normal life won't be enough anymore...or maybe I'm scared that my next adventure isn't one over international waters, but one that requires me to find out what my next step in life is going to be.

That said, I am here to say goodbye to a place I've come to love. I have learned that I love being able to step out of my door to walk to a nearby café or sushi haunt in a matter of minutes, a feat rendered impossible by my semi-rural roots. I've learned to order coffees as "regular long blacks," and I've certainly come to appreciate saying "heaps" and "I can't be bothered..." Most people are drastically misunderstood about Australian culture, gathering from popular American media that Australians are all tan and trim, surfing up a storm all year long and taking nothing more serious than which pub serves the cheapest jugs of beer. They are wrong, you are wrong. I beg you, before accepting these stereotypes and passing them on as truths, to learn more, to dig deeper, to come here and see for yourselves that Australians are reserved, committed, proud, vivacious, and genuine. Australia is a young and often misjudged country. It is fighting battles that are going mostly unnoticed on the international stage. Australia is now the world's most obese country, but most of you would assume that America still held that honor and that, of course, all Aussies are swimsuit-ready year round. You might also read that Australia is ever becoming more multicultural and diverse in its growing metropolises, but there is an inconspicuous and haunting racism against their indigenous people that is continuing unscathed, and desperately needs to be addressed and confronted. They are a nation that still struggles with their embarrassing past as an imperial convict colony. That is not to say that I haven't fought my fair share of fights in defending America to Australians, who occasionally belittle us with their ancient British bias. Left alone in a different country, one must carefully embody all the accepted traits of American-ness, while also combating the ugly traits with which tourists before you have tainted your unassuming image. I simply implore you to take a closer look at a place that rarely receives consideration on the world stage-most people pass it off as a far-away southern utopia, distant from the problems of the rest of the world-but I can only hope that someday you can learn as much from this place as it has taught me.

I would like to formally take back control of goodbyes and endings in my life now, after a submissive five years of worrying and reminiscing, fearing I will never get the same friendships or the familiar places back when I close a certain chapter of my life. Bill Bryson wrote that "Melbourne had a settled and gracious air that was much more European than North American, and it rained, rained all week, which delighted me inordinately because it was so totally not what I had expected." This study abroad experience, this city, was so totally not what I had expected, and because of these unforeseen and amazing surprises, I know that this is not an ending, not a goodbye. Not yet at least. Not while I still have so much more to figure out.

a minnesotan in melbourne.

When I was 17, I went on the trip that has since launched 1,000 trips. It was a summer tour of England, France, Germany, Switzerland, Belgium, and the Netherlands. As young student ambassadors, we had four teachers as our guides throughout our European summer. From meetings with members of Parliament to seeing Ellen Pompeo at Windsor castle, it is easy to say that this trip, and the people on it, changed my life. I am still in close contact with my best friends from that trip: Lauren, who attends St. Olaf, and Allison, who happens to attend DePauw. And every time we manage to get together, we reminisce about Marie, the youngest guide on the trip, from whom we learned so much about the kind of young adult we wanted to be in a future that, as it turns out, really wasn't so far off.

Marie, a native Minnesotan who now resides in San Francisco, got in touch with me (again, the wonders of Facebook prove invaluable at helping me make connections while abroad!) when she found out I was spending the semester in Melbourne. She told me that her brother Eben and his wife Daniella live here, and that we should meet up. Ironically enough, Eben met Daniella when he, too, was traveling in Australia on a People to People Student Ambassadors trip based out of the Twin Cities. Anyway, myriad messages were exchanged between the four of us, but no plans ever came to fruition due to crazy travel and school schedules on my end. With all my friends since gone from Oz, and with little plans on my agenda, I thought it'd be a good time to get in touch with them and finally make something happen during my last week down under.

On Sunday, June 20th, while my family was celebrating Father's Day in Eau Claire, Eben picked me up on Royal Parade and drove me to their house in Reservoir, a northern suburb in Melbourne. I entered their 1960s bungalow greeted by dogs Hank and Bowswer, and I met Daniella as she was pulling baked eggplant, ricotta pasta, and garlic pizza out of the oven. Safe to say, I knew I was really going to like these people. This was my first time in a real home since I left Eau Claire on February 2nd. I relished sitting around a full kitchen table, with dogs underfoot and a lit fireplace just around the corner. We spent dinner exchanging opinions on American cereals and midwestern weather, and telling tales of distant Spanish cities that we've all visited. Following dinner, we settled in to watch "Where The Wild Things Are" with a plate of Tim-Tams (classic, addictive Aussie cookies) and some glasses of wine. All in all, it was a relaxing and refreshing night. It served to remind me why a home truly is where the heart is. Essentially alone on this continent now that most of my friends have departed, it was nice to feel welcomed into a home by such a young, friendly couple. So, thank you to Marie for initiating the meeting (wish she could have been there!), and thank you to Eben and Daniella for stuffing me to the brim with homemade Italian. It's always marvelous to make another small world connection, especially one that is Minnesotan, in a far off land.

lucky ladies in the land down under.

I’m a lucky girl. Lucky enough in the first place to be here, breathing this air, walking these streets for five months...lucky to be able to travel throughout this diverse country, lucky to have the privilege to attend this school, lucky to have made some pretty incredible friends. Most recently, I’m lucky to have had the absolute pleasure of hosting one of my closest, best friends (practically a sister), Emily Stortz, and her mom, Laurie, and sister, Amanda, for a full week in Melbourne.

They arrived on blustery Tuesday, June 1^st, after a rainy and rushed weekend in Sydney, where they arrived delayed due to United’s shortcomings. Here in Melbourne, finally, I had the privilege of guiding them through all the greatest sights: the University of Melbourne’s campus on a fall day, dinners and gelato on Lygon Street, the banks of the Yarra River, Melbourne Park, Federation Square, Young & Jackson bar (where Emily and I willingly drank a beer-can you believe it?), Chinatown, the laneways, Melbourne Museum, Eureka Tower, the Old Gaol...we even made our way down the Great Ocean Road and into the Yarra Valley’s wine regions, and managed to catch a showing of Sex and the City 2 on top of it all. I did my best to be a mindful and trustworthy tour guide, and I hope that I was able to pass on some of the special treats and highlights of my home away from home to them.

It’s a pretty special feeling to have three people that are not immediately related to you fly across the world to see you and see a place you’ve come to love. I cannot thank the Stortz’s enough for enduring the woes of international travel to come to chilly, rainy Australia to see what they could see. To Laurie, Amanda, and my dear Emily, thank you for a memorable and action-packed week. It was lovely to see you out of our usual context, and I’m so thankful to have had a little piece of home during my last month down under.