Picking titles for a blog entry is absolutely impossible. By the time I finish writing, the original title never makes any sense. The end.

I really should be packing, but it is has proven difficult to pare down the collection of clothes, books, toiletries and electronics that make up my life. My life, it seems, was never meant to be packed into a bag and sent across an ocean for the better part of a year. Now, before anyone starts feeling too bad for me, please note that this is probably the single best example of what we at the 'herst referred to as a First World Problem.

First World Problems occur at the intersection of entitlement and affluence, and I feel as though I am becoming more attuned to them in myself and others as I prepare to leave for SA. As an American - and as someone who has generally inhabited a wealthy, relatively insular community for the first 23, almost 24, years of life - I worry that I am prone to these circular reaffirmations of privilege. I hold out some hope that this upcoming experience will start to loosen some of these ingrained attitudes about what should or should not be taken for granted. This is an issue that I do not take lightly, and one that will be interested to examine when I am face-to-face with the public and health policies of a country balanced between the First and Third Worlds.

Who knew that this post would turn into a serious preview of what I'm hoping to Get Out of my time in SA? Certainly not me. More à propos of my procrastination from packing, I have this sneaking suspicion that I have forgotten to invite someone to tomorrow night's party (not to be confused with Last Night's Party). If you are planning on coming, please make sure that everyone else you know who might want to say Hi is coming along as well.