Thanks, Mom!

(yes, I know it's backwards. Blame Apple)

Right when I was at the dark, bleak precipice of study abroad depression, laying day-in and day-out on my bed, wondering why, oh why did I decide to throw away my most vital of semesters at KU, watching the endless dark rainclouds that plague the Mosel river valley roll over the hills outside my window, a shining beacon of hope buzzed it's way into my room. Literally, buzzed. I had no idea the mail carriers here had the ability to buzz my room from the front door of my building to announce their presence. I knew what it was at once though, and bolted to the front door, barely remembering to put on a shirt (because really, who wants to see that running down the hallway). There it was, the package that I had feared was taken hostage by customs officials because of the nature of it's contents, the package all the way from Wamego, Kansas: the package from my mom.

My dear, gracious mother finally had given in to my sessions on Skype, nagging her about  Germany's lack of the simple things like Ibuprofen (for the hangovers), Tylenol PM (for the traffic that goes by my window nightly), Old Spice deodorant (because they don't have it here?), Crest toothpaste (when I told her I had to buy Colgate, she pronounced her allegiance to Proctor & Gamble by saying "yuck"), Abreva (yeah, I got a coldsore), not one, but TWO pairs of Old Navy flip-flops (which the Germans will hate), not one, but TWO awesome KU t-shirts to wear proudly, a note written in Target Lady speak reminding me of her maternal love, copious amounts of bubble wrap, and last but not least, my favorite Ralph Lauren t-shirt that my 16 year old brother stole out of my suitcase the night before I left (not pictured, as I immediately put it on after opening). Upon signing for my package, I may or may not have skipped back to my room.

Maybe now this last month and a half will be a little more bearable.

Lerve you too, Mom.