Yes, we are still on the plane. The sad part is, this is the easy part of the journey. Not only do the people here speak our language (the advantage of flying British Airways), but we were upgraded to the "Plus" section of the coach cabin. While we certainly aren't at the Ritz, we have no complaints: bigger seats, leg rests, personal video screens that you can play video games on, and a much smaller, quieter cabin. Elitism at its best.

After the process it took to get to this point, the tens hours on this flight, the seven hours of layover in London and the addition six hours of flying to get to Tel Aviv are nothing. Granted, I say this after having spent only 8 hours flying, but after thinking back over the last few weeks, I'm sure it will feel like nothing. The idea of choosing, from your bedroom in California, every item you will need over the next 11 months in a completely foreign country is rather absurd. How do I know if I should take the brown or the maroon Polo shirt? Maybe Israelis don't like maroon. Maybe Israelis don't like Polo shirts. Add to this the mental contortions that are necessary to figure out how to use any basic electronic device you may possible own (or at least those worthy of the chunk they will take out of your baggage limit), and the packing process becomes very tiresome.

In the end, Julia and I only repacked three times. After starting off with something like six gigantic suitcases, we were able to pare it down to four, then eventually decided that our comfort over the next 11 months was worth the $190 USD charged by BA for a fifth bag. Many times during that process I think we were both tempted to just say "screw it, I'm taking it all, and I don't care how much it costs!" But I think even the packing, no matter how frustrating, was part of the learning and growth that is intended for us this year.

Both Julia and I have talked recently about our fears for this year. I wasn't surprised by hers: concerns about doing well academically, adjusting to Israeli society, and making connections with other students in her class. I was, however, a bit surprised by some of my own fears. I realized that for the first time ever, I was moving to a new place without a purpose other than to be with someone else. I have no job, I have no plans, and I also have no one in an official capacity who is concerned about my welfare. In short, I am moving to Israel to be Julia's fiance. While I'm thrilled to have that title, I never thought of it as a definition of who I am. Of course, with Julia's intended vocation, I should probably get used to people defining me in relation to her. Despite this, my hope is that within a matter of weeks, I'll be able to create my own sense of purpose for this year, complete with concrete goals and objectives. Stay tuned to hear how I do...