13 Little Blue Pieces of My Soul

So, I just finished reading 13 Little Blue Envelopes by the lovely and talented Maureen Johnson. I just bought it a few days ago on a whim and have now read the entirety of the book in 5 and 1/2 hours. I've always loved travelling. Ever since my first flight to Disney World with my parents and sister when I was 6 years old I have loved every single thing about taking a trip. From the packing, to the realizing you forgot something, to the landing of the airplane when you get back to where you started. Ever since I reread Paper Towns by John Green, I've had a strange yearning to travel. To just pack up some of  my things and drive until I run out of gas or money or both. Now that I've read Envelopes, that desire is even stronger. Except now I just want to fly instead of drive. I love flying. It's part of the reason I picked aerospace as my major instead of mechanical. If I even get in. Yikes. I digress. I've now decided that if I do decide to go to graduate school, I want to go to California. Or maybe England. If I like Leeds when I study abroad there, maybe I'll go there for two whole years. I would love to get my working permit and work in a little pub in Leeds for a summer or two. I know that once I get out of college, I won't have any time to travel. Unless I some how get a job in a different country. That would be cool. Like Jess'ca. Except hers is only for 9 months. I want to live somewhere for at least 3 years. Long enough that I get comfortable there, but not so long as to feel stuck in a rut, as they say. I want to live in Cali and I want to live in England. Then I'll come back to whatever mundane job I'll have picked up in the future. I feel like the kids that are described at the beginning of books: nothing interesting ever happens in my life; nothing exciting, nothing spectacular. I'm just waiting for my Margo Roth Spiegelman or my crazy Aunt Peg.