Control

“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it” – John Steinbeck

That John Steinbeck is a smart guy, in less than 20 words he has managed to perfectly explain the last month of my life.

Let me digress for a moment; I need to tell you what I should be doing whilst I write this column: I should be sipping on a Margarita looking out on to Venice Beach. I should be buying tacky souvenirs and celeb stalking. I should be turning a lovely golden shade of brown. I should be able to wear a swimsuit without catching pneumonia. I should be (window) shopping on Rodeo Drive. However, I am not.

Why?

Because I thought I could control my journey.

This semester, I am farewelling our clean, green shores and heading off to the United States for a semester abroad at the University of Missouri’s school of Journalism. I like to think that generally, I’m a pretty laidback person. This process has proved otherwise. As it turns out, when I travel I have the most ridiculous tendency to want to control everything down to the finest detail.

Want an example? Frances was so convinced of her own skills of persuasion that she thought she’d be able to change rules enforced by the United States Government. Because I like planning so much, I decided to get my tickets early against the advice of travel agents who suggested I get my visa first. However the temptation of sparkly sales proved to be too much. My normally expensive return tickets to LA were cheap and cheerful so I thought what the heck, not much can stop me, right?

Wrong.

Turns out the American Government have every right to stop me. The Visa I needed had restrictions on when you could enter and leave the country. To be precise, my visa stipulated that I mustn’t enter the USA any more than 30 days before my programme started and the tickets I had booked (during said sales) had me arriving 36 days before my programme started.

However, in my little fantasy world I didn’t think that would be a problem. I mean, I knew I was arriving a little early but it was less than a week… I was sure if I just talked to them, they’d be reasonable, right?

Wrong.

Believe you me, I tried to talk to them. I tried to reason. I battered my eyelashes, flashed a cheeky grin, flipped my hair and did everything I could to epitomise grace, charm and wit.

They weren’t having any of it.

Seven days and $975 in additional fees later, I am sitting in gate 16 at Auckland Airport, ready as I can be for my flight to LA… or as ready as I want to be anyway.

I always knew this experience would be life changing, I was aware that by making this move I would be testing everything I think I know about the world from the 21 short years I have existed on this planet. I guess I just didn’t realise I’d be learning things before I even boarded my plane.

So, for now – I’m letting go. I’m rolling with it, taking things as they come and hoping and praying I can keep my feet on the ground.