In a few days, I'm going to be boarding a plane to Brazil...with my boyfriend. For three weeks.
My mom's side of the family lives in Brazil. I went there every summer, until I was about thirteen, then I lived there for a total of two years(it's complicated). Last time I went there was five years ago. Though I've seen pictures, and talked to all of them, I'm going to keep imagining that my cousins are still the same age they were when I left. My Portuguese is currently not awesome. I can understand all of it, I just know I'll forget some words, or not say something the right way.
I've actually started packing. Filled a suitcase with half of my clothes. Y'know...for some reason, I thought that I would only need one suitcase. Then I remembered that I'm a girl, and this is three weeks in Brazil.
Whenever I'm going on a trip, for some reason, I never feel like it's really going to happen. I went to Florida with my boyfriend and his family a couple weeks ago, and it didn't feel real to me until we were actually there. Once in a while, I'll be super-excited about going, but most of the time, I'm just kinda like, "...yeah, I should probably be packing."
It's going to be amazing. I get to show my boyfriend my favorite place in the entire world. He's going to meet the people who make up about...5/6 of my family.

This is really happening, isn't it?