I can't wait to go. The thought has pretty much consumed me and I've made up my mind. I'm all set and ready to board that plane and get out. To Hong Kong.

I don't care that I'll be surrounded by millions of Chinese for 3 and a half months, that it will be unbearably hot and humid, that my lungs will clog from all that pollution, that it's going to be so awkward trying to speak to people in my broken Cantonese, that I could make a lot more money staying in Canada... I just need this change.
My sister's like, "Steff, you sound like you're going through a mid-life crisis."
Maybe I am... at 18 years of age.

Clearly I was souped up excited to be there. Clearly.
Honestly, I would probably crawl into a ball and cry my eyes out if I find out that I don't get to go.