The Most Perfect Week

Well hello there!

This week was the most perfect week thus far!

School was just school… the only notable part was that my Italian teacher treated my class to whatever we wanted at a café down the street from our school after our first quiz and we got ourselves some pretty fancy looking drinks. That was about it though.

Outside of the studying part of being abroad, I saw some pretty places, ate some wonderful food, and made some incredible memories.

On Wednesday, one of my friends who has already been here for a semester took me and a few friends on a little walking tour around Florence.  It is absolutely incredible how much this kid knows about a place he has lived for just a few months.  I can only hope to be able to absorb as much information as he has and find my bearings as well as he has by the time I am done here.  On our tour, we took a little hike up to one of the most beautiful lookouts in the city - Piazzale Michelangelo.  The view was breathtaking.  We made it up to the lookout right as the sun was setting and even had someone serenading us as we took in the view.  Every part of this setting was so beautifully romantic - minus the fact that I was lacking the love of my life… Oh well… Whenever (or if) I find that person, I will eventually be back with them to complete the perfect setting.

After our walk around the city, instead of going to bed like normal people would, my roommate and I found ourselves getting ready for her to go on a blind date - well kind of.  There is no smooth way to transition into this topic so I'm just going to start from the beginning… So, my roommate, Sam, is probably one of the greatest people I've ever met.  I really do thank God everyday for placing her in my life.  With that being said, she is also one of the most hilarious people I've ever met - part of the reason being that she does some of the weirdest things… For instance, one of the first things that she did when we got to Florence was turn on her Tinder and reset her location to Italy.

Now, for those of you who don't know what Tinder is, it is this app where you basically are given pictures of people in your general vicinity, you decide whether they are hot or not, and if you mutually agree that you are hot, then you are matched up and can chat over the app.

Anyways, she has been using Tinder as a joke here, but one day, this guy from England messaged her and told her he was going to be in Florence for a few nights and wanted to meet up with her.  After a few days of messaging him, she decided that he seemed pretty legit, so she decided to take her chances and meet up with the kid at the bar downstairs.  Now, I know that everyone reading this probably has their mouth wide open out of disbelief, but let me assure you, it really wasn't that strange.  Well - I take that back - it kind of was, but it was not unsafe.  Three friends and I went down to the bar to watch out for Sam as she tested the waters with this mysterious chap.  Turns out this kid was for real and actually pretty cool - cool enough that Sam ended up spending five hours with him.  So, moral of the story: maybe online dating isn't all that bad? … Just kidding.  I still do not condone online dating for any serious relationships, but if you find yourself in need of a good story, it might be worth a shot.

On Thursday, I adventured with my History and Culture of Food in Italy class to an old little restaurant for a classic four course Tuscan dinner - see last blog post "The Florence 50" for details on that excursion.  Along with that dinner, I also finally made it to the most popular pizza restaurant in Florence - Gusta Pizza.  After one bite of that pizza, I realized why everyone loves it so much and questioned why it has taken me over two weeks to make it over there.  Even my simple margarita pizza was delectable - and it was in the shape of a heart.  What more could you want from a pizza?

Saturday was simply incredible.  First of all, God blessed us with some sunshine and blue skies for the first time since we have been here.  We were able to walk around the city with just one layer of clothing and no fear of rain dampening our spirits.  A few girls and I hopped on a train to the tiny town of Lucca, Italy.

The train ride itself was eventful enough to deserve its own paragraph in this post.  Let's just say that we had no idea what was coming for us when we sat down on that train.  What started off as a peaceful ride turned into the most eventful commute I've ever experienced.  About ten minutes into our two hour train ride, my roommate, Sam, looked up and made eye contact with this psychotic Italian man.  Right after she locked eyes with this thirty-something year-old man, she started muttering, "oh no guys, oh no, he's coming over here!  I kid you not, this man is coming towards -".  Before she could properly warn us, this man pops out of nowhere and pushes my friend's legs off the seat and sits down on the seat across from us without hesitation.  Our new friend, Tony, spent half an hour making himself comfortable on our seats and trying to communicate with us through a ten-year old Italian child that he recruited from another part of the train to be his translator.  Let me just say that I have never laughed so hard in my life.  I literally could not breathe until his phone finally rang and he left us for good.

Once we finally got off the train, we ventured inside the walls of Lucca.  Now, I was kind of pessimistic about how well this day would go because so many people warned us and kept saying, "Lucca is dead - there is no one there and nothing to do."  However, they could not have been more wrong.  Lucca was amazing.  Yes, it took us a while to find the center of the city, but once we did, there was no escaping the flow of people.

After getting some food, we decided to rent some bikes and ride around the perimeter of the city.  Except, instead of renting single bikes like normal people, Sam and I decided to rent a tandem bike.  In hindsight, that probably wasn't our smartest idea considering neither of us had ever ridden a tandem bike, let alone ridden a single bike in years.  Oh well - sometimes the worst decisions make for the best of stories, right?  Riding around on cobblestone by yourself is a pain in the butt - literally and figuratively speaking - but trying to navigate it on a tandem bike with steering problems and unreliable breaks is a whole different issue.  Anyways, once we finally got onto the paved road that circles the city, we were able to figure out the bike and enjoy ourselves.  Riding around the city and taking in the beautiful landscape was one of the most blissful experiences I've ever had.

After riding around the city, we decided to get some gelato because I mean, what day would be complete without gelato, right?  And let me tell you, that was a wonderful decision.  After spending half an hour walking around trying to find a gelato shop, we finally found this organic gelato place that had probably some of the best gelato I've ever had - which is something to be said, considering I'm a gelato connoisseur and everything.

Anyways, besides getting some of the best gelato I've ever had, we also ran into this group of crazy Italian teenage girls storming through the city filming a birthday video for One Direction's, Harry Styles.  I've heard that One Direction fans are crazy (and witnessed it too, thanks to my wonderful sister), but this was just something else.  I thought Jonas Brothers fans were insane, but these girls made them look just pathetic.  I'm not a huge fan of 1D by any means, but this little parade did brighten my day.

At the end of the day, I was extremely glad that I didn't listen to people's discouraging comments about Lucca.  The sunshine, green grass, bike ride, gelato, and One Direction was just what the doctor ordered for my lazy Saturday in Italy.  If you ever find yourself in Europe, make sure you check out one of the most underrated cities Italy has to offer.

The next day was just as good as the last.  I spent the morning roaming around Florence in the sunshine.  We made our way over to the Boboli Gardens.  Now, this garden wasn't exactly what you would picture when someone says gardens - there were no flowers blooming or anything like that, but that is not to say that it wasn't still magical.  These gardens had the most green grass that I have ever seen in Florence and one of the most beautiful views of the Tuscan countryside.  'Twas a wonderful morning.

Later that night, it was time to immerse ourselves in true Florentine culture by cheering on our home team at the FC Fiorentina soccer game.  I've never really been to a professional soccer game, let alone a soccer game where people had as much spirit as these fans do.  The entire arena was flooded with royal purple, all congregated to watch everyone's favorite team take on Genoa.  It was so cool to feel apart of a group that had such passion and love for their city.  Even though I couldn't understand a word being chanted, my toes debatably got frost-bite, and we tied, it was still an incredible night.  Needless to say, it was an experience that won't be forgotten anytime soon.

All in all, this week was definitely one for the books.  I can only hope that each week is as good as this one was.  Cheers to pretty people and pretty places, bad decisions and good memories, and the adventure of a lifetime.

Ciao for now!

Sincerely yours,
Just Another Original

The Florence 50

Ciao friends!

So as many of you know, I have the eating habits of a seven year old.  Now, for the most part, this has not proven to be that problematic when eating in my pensione, but as far as my history class is concerned, let's just say I will be leaving hungry…

Tonight was the fourth time my History and Culture of Food in Italy has met.  Instead of meeting in our usual classroom, we ventured into the city to a little restaurant for a typical four course Tuscan dinner.  When my teacher (his name is Guido - I kid you not) told us what we were doing, I wasn't that concerned because I have been able to eat at every restaurant I have been to.  However, this time was a little different…

First of all, our teacher wasn't very clear with directions on how to get to the restaurant, so my friends and I walked around Florence in the pouring rain trying to figure out how we were supposed to get to the restaurant.  Mind you, we were supposed to meet at the restaurant at 5:30 and we didn't even get on the bus until 5:35… That was how the night started…

When we finally got to the restaurant, there were only nine of us - including our teacher… can you say awkward? Anyways, when we sat down, there were eight or so jugs - and I mean literal jugs - of wine. How many people can say that their teacher has served them their own home-grown wine - let alone just wine in general?  I mean, I thought it was cool and all just because it was something that would never happen in the states, but I didn't care all that much simply because my palate doesn't allow me to appreciate wine all that much…

The first course of the four and a half hour meal was chicken liver pâté smeared on bread.  Let me say that again - chicken liver… When it first came out, I shook my head and immediately decided that I was not about to put the piece of bread anywhere near my mouth.  However after staring at it for a while, something came over me and believe it or not, I decided to take a bite.  After swallowing the bite, I immediately regretted my decision.  Not only did the stuff look like canned cat food, but it tasted like it too.  It took everything in my power not to spit out the stuff into my napkin.  I may have tried it, but let's just say that I will not be having any more chicken liver anytime soon…

After the waiters took away our cat food, they brought out two different kinds of "soups" - I only call them soup because that is what they told us they were, but they were definitely not your average Campbell's canned soups.  The first soup had the texture of a grainy tomato paste and was made out of onions, garlic, black cabbage, and flour.  The second soup was made of bread and tomatoes.  Now, I've never really been much of a soup person, so these two weren't really my thing.  However, I figured if I could choke down some chicken liver, I could manage some soup.

The main course was the most normal of the courses.  We were given some beef that tasted like it was cooked in a croc-pot, some beans, and boiled arugula.  This was by-far my favorite part of the meal, so I made sure that I ate a lot of beef so that I got my money's worth.

Next came dessert - if you can even call it that.  Dessert was these little patties of fried chestnuts and raisins.  I ate one, but it wasn't all that enjoyable.  Along with the chestnut patties, our teacher also decided that we needed some shots to wash the patties down.  Yes, you read that correctly: our teacher gave us shots.  Now, let me tell you, limoncello and grappa are just not good, period.  I don't know how the Italians do it…

So, needless to say, my fellow picky eater and I were still craving something sweet by the time we got back to our pensione.  We went to this little gelateria down the street (where the owner knows who I am - it's really no big deal) and treated ourselves to some gelato... and crepes.

As if that wasn't enough, when we finally got back to the pensione, a group of us decided to go to one of our go-to spots, Tijuana (the only Mexican restaurant/bar in all of Florence).  Even though I wasn't necessarily hungry and didn't necessarily want to drink, I had a strawberry colada and some chips purely for the social aspect of it all.

At the end of the night, I finally understood why so many people have warned me about the "Florence 50".  It is 100% a real thing.  If I were a normal (not picky) eater and ate everything placed in front of me, I would absolutely gain a minimum of 50 pounds.  Even without eating everything, I still feel like I gained at least a couple of pounds that night.  With that being said, maybe my eating habits might be the only thing that saves me from Florence's curse this semester - or at least spares me a few pounds…

Here's hoping…

Ciao for now!

Sincerely yours,
Just Another Original

Paris, Porn, and Pisa

Hello All!

It is currently Saturday morning and I am officially done with my first week in the beautiful city of Florence!  Just like any other week, this one was filled with its fair share of ups and downs…

First of all, my luggage came! Hallelujah, right?! It was sitting in my room when I got back from Rome - can you say best welcome home present ever?! Now I can finally wear something other than jeans, boots, and a jacket - well I probably will still wear that, but now I can just incorporate more variations of it into my wardrobe.

Monday was the first day of school - ew, right? Anyways, I wasn't too bummed about it because I only had one class that day - or so I thought.  After my Italian class, everyone else was going about their days going to class and what not while I on the other hand was just hanging out in my pensione, napping, catching up on some shows, etc. It was a glorious day…until later that night…

At dinner, my friend Emily turns to me and goes, "Julie, you were supposed to be in some of my classes today… Where were you?" Um, what? I asked her what she was talking about since my schedule said that I only had Italian that day. At that point, everyone at the table just looked at me and started laughing. Great, I love being the center of a joke - especially when I don't know what is so funny… Another girl at our table asked me what week I looked at when I got my schedule, so I told her that I obviously looked at the current week at which point everyone started laughing - again. My roommate turned to me and explained that Gonzaga in Spokane doesn't start school until Tuesday so I was supposed to check the next week's schedule to see my real schedule for the semester. How on earth was I supposed to know that?!

Good one, Julie. First day of school, skipping two of your three classes. Starting off the semester strong.

Oh well, life will go on. I emailed my professors and explained the situation and they were both understanding, so if they can forgive me for my stupid mistake, I guess I can too. After that, I managed to make it to the rest of my classes for the week and stay awake - which is something to be proud of considering one of my professors literally looks like he is sleepwalking and talking when he is teaching. Whatever. All of my classes this semester are pass/fail, so I'm not too worried.

Besides the school aspect, this week was pretty average - filled with home cooked meals, homework time, and the casual booking of country-hopping flights.

I know that it's hard to sense when I'm joking through reading a typed blog but nothing about booking country-hopping flights is average. This is literally such a dream. I constantly have to pinch myself to convince myself that this is reality - either that or look at my bank account which is sinking faster than an anchor. Besides having the average panic attack about my quickly approaching poverty, I really am so excited about my upcoming adventures. This week alone, I booked a trip to Paris for my roommate's birthday and bought a ticket to see Beyonce in Dublin for Spring Break - is this real life?!

Along with buying tickets for future adventures, I also had to buy some school supplies at the 99 cent store.  Now, you are probably thinking, "what is so noteworthy about going to the 99 cent store?" Well, besides the fact that I am in Italy so everything is noteworthy, there was also a few noteworthy items to be mentioned.  Well, by a few, I mean a few items of the same type - porn. Yes, you read that correctly, there is porn at the European 99 cent store - boys try to contain your giggles.  My roommate and I were innocently looking for notebooks when we stumbled across "porn notebooks"… Needless to say, we stuck with our cartoon animal notebooks.

Anyways, the weekends here are meant for traveling and exploring, so yesterday, a group of friends and I went to the magical city of Pisa! Just to let you know, I am totally kidding when I say magical… Pisa is probably one of the most underwhelming cities in Italy.  The only thing that the place has going for it is - you guessed it - the Leaning Tower of Pisa. My friends and I spent six hours taking stupid pictures with the tower and walking around in the pouring rain trying to waste time until our train came. All of us agreed that we were glad we went - because I mean, we couldn't leave Italy without a leaning tower pic - but we don't ever need to go back…ever.

Now it's time to get out of my room and go explore the city I will be calling home for the next few months!

Ciao for now!

Sincerely yours,
Just Another Original

Boondoggle?

Ciao ragazzi!

As many of you have noticed, I have been using #boondoggle2014 on all of my posts regarding my study abroad experience.

"Boondoggle - what's that?"…"What the heck does boondoggle mean?"…"Boondoggle…huh?"

Fear not friends, I am here to provide clarity on the matter.  I now present to you, the story #boondoggle2014...

The week before I left, my family and I were sitting around the table eating dinner and my dad would not stop ragging on me for going abroad.  Don't get me wrong - he is super supportive of me doing this, it's just that he isn't completely convinced that it is to study.  At one point, he jokingly said, "Julie, you aren't studying abroad - you are going on an elaborate boondoggle!"  At the time, my sister and I just kind of looked at each other, laughed and played along because boondoggle is a funny word - not because we knew what he was talking about.

After that conversation, I forgot about the word until it was time to say goodbye to my dad and he says, "Bye Ju, I'll miss you.  Enjoy your boondoggle!"  After parting ways, I found myself wondering what he was saying.  I pondered the thought for a while and then when I finally had a minute to breathe in the airport, I decided to do some digging and find out what my dad meant.  After extensive research (thank you google and dictionary.com), I finally figured out what he was talking about.

Boondoggle - a project funded by the federal government out of politicalfavoritism that is of no real value to the community or the nation. (dictionary.com)

Clearly my study abroad experience isn't exactly a boondoggle in the political sense, but it is close enough - according to Papa Olson at least…  This whole time, my dad has been basically saying that this whole experience isn't actually studying - I am just saying that it is for school so that I have an excuse to travel the world.

Now, I had been trying to think of some original hashtag to categorize my abroad experience, but my creative juices were failing me.  After finally decoding my father's words, I thought that boondoggle was the perfect description of my trip.  If nothing else, at least it's a funny word that people can get a kick out of.

So there you have it friends, the story of #boondoggle2014.

Sincerely yours,

Just Another Original

All Roads Lead to Rome

Bongiorno from Italia!

The past four days were a whirlwind of adventures in the beautiful city of Rome!

On Thursday, all 140 kids studying abroad with Gonzaga piled onto three buses for a four hour trip from Florence to Rome. The bus ride was fairly uneventful besides the fact that the bus driver was actually psychotic. I feared for my life as well as all of the other drivers and pedestrians on the streets.

Once we got to Rome, we had a couple hours to kill before our first group activity so a couple friends and I navigated our way around the city to find The Pantheon. First things first, can we just acknowledge the fact that I led the group through the streets and alleys of Rome to find The Pantheon? Thank you Dad for passing down the good navigation skills. Secondly, The Pantheon is absolutely beautiful - including the minion balloon floating in the top of the building. I mean, I think just about everything in Europe is breathtaking, but The Pantheon is one of the coolest sights. I could spend hours taking in the beauty of it all if it wasn't for the constant flow of party promoters preying on tourists.

After our own little adventure at the Pantheon, the entire GIF group was split up into little sub-groups for a three hour walking tour of the city. Besides seeing the major museums and statues, we also got to see the famous Trevi Fountain! Anyone who thinks of Rome most likely thinks of the Trevi Fountain - especially the children of the Lizzie McGuire generation. The Trevi Fountain was magical - it was everything I expected and more. In fact, my friend and I were so caught up in its beauty that we lost our tour group completely because they went on without us... Oops. So, we joined a random other group to finish off our tour.

At the end of the tour, everyone in the program regrouped for a four course dinner (God bless the restaurant that hosted all 140 of us obnoxious American college kids). During the meal, I stayed true to my promise to my boss and parents and tried everything that was put in front of me - well, everything besides the veal... This isn't to say that I didn't gag a few times, but I held everything down and live to tell the tale. Anyone who knows me will know that this is a huge deal. At dinner, my friend Carly and I sat down at a table full of Gonzaga kids who turned out to be friends with one of my best friends from middle and high school. Besides finding small world connections, I also ended up making some new friends. After dinner, my new friends and I wandered around the streets back to our hotel and made an obligatory gelato stop before heading to bed.

The next day, we got to enjoy the ruins of the Roman Forum and the Colosseum. Besides the Trevi Fountain, the Colosseum was probably one of my favorite parts of Rome. The Colosseum is jaw-droppingly amazing. It's mind-blowing to think that someone built something like that that has been able to survive as long as it has. The whole thing is just absolutely stunning. While taking in the sights, I couldn't help but hum "This is What Dreams Are Made Of" as we were waking around. Thank you, Lizzie McGuire for never failing to influence my views on Rome.

After a day full of exploring, I went over to none other than the Bulldog Inn Pub with my new bulldog friends. The food was mediocre, but the experience will not soon be forgotten. First of all, the restaurant must have forgotten to pay their electricity bill or something because the lights kept going out throughout our meal. The first time it happened, we all kind of stopped talking and looked around confused, but by the fourth and fifth time, we were not phased. Throughout the poorly lit meal, everyone kept passing me their drinks, encouraging me to try them. At one point, one of the boys handed me a beer that had a abnormally gross aftertaste. No one took my word for it since I'm not really an alcohol connoisseur, but all of the other girls tried it and agreed that it tasted kind of funky. The boy ignored our opinions and continued to down his beer - not a good idea. Before we left, his face went white and he ran to the bathroom to purge his bad beer... Guess I know more about alcohol than people give me credit for…

Once we were done with our less than great experience at Bulldog, we decided that we couldn't end our night on a bad note, so we went out to the famous Ice Club. Now, the Ice Club may not be on the same level as the Colosseum and the Trevi Fountain, but it was still pretty cool - haha get it? Okay, that was bad, but nonetheless, it was still really fun. You pay a cover charge to get a parka and gain entrance into the igloo of a club. Everything inside is pure ice - the walls, the seats, the bar, and even the cups! I don't know who thought of making a club out of what is essentially a meat locker, but good for them for the clever business venture. Besides the fact that I couldn't feel my toes, I did have a lot of fun and probably some of the best orange juice that I've ever had.

The next day, our group made the trek over to the Vatican. The Vatican was absolutely breathtaking. I mean, I would expect nothing less for Papa Francesco, but it really exceeded all of my expectations - except for the Sistine Chapel… I thought it would be much cooler than it was. I guess I might have been able to appreciate it more had we not been herded through like cattle in a matter of three minutes. Even so, I still enjoyed it - regardless of it not meeting my expectations. Since I wasn't very enthused by the Sistine Chapel, I would say that my favorite part of the Vatican was probably St. Peter's Basilica - it was incredible!

After our tour of the Vatican, my friends and I decided to pay a few euros to climb over 500 stairs to the top of St. Peter's Basilica.  That was probably one of the most beautiful views in the entire world.  From up there, you could see all of Vatican City as well as most of Rome. All of Europe is stunning, so being able to see such a huge part of it all of it at once was just magical. Not only was it a pretty view, but it was also quite a work out.  Those 1000-something stairs had all of our legs shaking by the time we got back to solid ground. All in all, the Vatican might have been my favorite part of Rome- er well I guess it's technically its own country, but you know what I mean. I only wish that it weren't just a place for cardinals and popes because I would drop everything and move there in a heartbeat.

Later that night, after another group dinner, all of the Gonzaga kids wanted to watch the Seahawks game, so we found a random Roman pub that was screening the game. Even though I don't necessarily care about football, I still had a lot of fun. The whole pub was full of kids from different study abroad programs - and even some random Italians - who were all cheering on the Hawks. It was cool to see how even in a different country, people can still find things in common with each other. My only issue with the whole experience was that one of the kids were literally bullying me to drink. Even at school, I have never felt so much judgment for not drinking and pressure to drink. Granted, the guy was pretty hammered, but I still felt uncomfortable. If I don't care that you are drinking, you shouldn't care if I am not. Okay, done with my rant.

The next day, we all checked out of our hotel and headed back to the Vatican for the pope's weekly blessing.  If you are ever find yourself in Rome, make sure that you attend this - even if you are not religious.  This was probably one of the coolest experiences I've ever had. All of the courtyard outside of St. Peter's Basilica and the surrounding streets were flooded - I mean people were packed together like sardines - all congregating to hear the pope's blessing. Right when the pope stuck his head out of the window, the crowd went wild. Everyone cheered and applauded for a solid few minutes before he had the chance to speak. Once he started speaking, the crowd fell silent and listened in awe to their leader. Even though I had absolutely no idea what he was saying, I still found myself mesmerized by this man. It was really such a cool experience.

One of our tour guides had some in-depth explanations for how all roads lead to Rome, and I can only hope that it's true. I can't wait to go back eventually. But as for now, it's back to "reality" (if you can even call staying in this beautiful place reality) and time to put the whole "study" in study abroad.

Ciao for now!

Sincerely yours,
Just Another Original

Day 1

Hello from Italiaaaa!

I am finally here! 20 hours of traveling, four airports, and two sunrises later and I am finally settled into my humble abode - kind of...

I realize it is probably ridiculous to dedicate a whole post simply to my day of travel, but trust me, it's worth it...

My trip started at approximately 1:30 PM on Monday when I was finally seated on my first flight to Amsterdam. I was sitting in the aisle seat in the column by the window and people kept coming on the plane but no one was claiming the window seat next to me. I thought it was strange when no one showed up when the plane doors were closing and the seat was still empty, but I wasn't about to question my luck. I was in the process of thanking God for giving me an empty seat to sprawl out on and finally sleep when in bursts the hot mess express. I kid you not it was the type of entrance that you only see in the movies - that dramatic. This fourty-something year old lady with bleach blonde hair and braces storms down the aisle panting - meanwhile I'm praying that she is not about to claim my extra seat when I hear this voice say... "Looks like I'm your mate!" Thanks a lot, God...

So my hopes of having a restful flight went out the window when my "mate" sat down. Right when she sat down, she starts to tell me all about the whirlwind of a morning she had. "Oh but don't worry, I promise I'm not a chatty Kathy!" Yeah right lady. She says this and goes on to tell me about how on top of everything else, she had to pack up her husband's stuff because she was kicking him out because he had been cheating on her. "I'm just so unlucky with men! I really thought the fourth one would be different!" Oh yes, you read that correctly. Since age 19, this woman had gone through 4 husbands - for a variety of reasons including cheating, jealousy, clinginess, etc. I got the whole story...every single detail...

Anyways, once the flight took off, I used the tv in front of me as an excuse to tune her out for the majority of the flight. That is, I tried to at least - in between her half-hourly bathroom breaks where she would pack up her stuff, look at me with this grin on her face, and shrug her shoulders acting like she felt bad making me move literally every half hour...

Besides the half-hourly bathroom breaks, the first flight was fairly smooth - except for when we flew over Greenland! Good lord I literally thought I was going to die. Granted any form of turbulence scares the living daylights out of me, but it was actually pretty bad. At one point I was questioning why God would send me on this adventure to Italy if he was going to have me die before I even made it to Europe... Yeah, sorry I'm dramatic. 

Once we landed, I got off that plane as fast as I could, seeing as my connecting flight was in an hour somewhere in this foreign airport. And let me tell you, it was a good thing I got off the plane as fast as I could because the Amsterdam airport is crazy! It is longer than the Portland airport - which says a lot - and just madness! There were shops, restaurants, and people EVERYWHERE! It was crazy! I mean, not all of it was bad crazy; let's just say there are some pretty attractive people in Amsterdam and I am looking forward to visiting sometime soon. 

Compared to all of that, my flights to Rome and Florence were fairly uneventful besides the fact that anytime I wasn't on the plane, I was paranoid that someone was going to pickpocket my backpack and steal my wallet and passport. Besides that, the only somewhat noteworthy thing was that on my flight to Rome I sat next to two other students who were studying abroad, so that was strangely comforting being able to converse with them about the eventful trip, the anxious-excited feelings we were having, and how exhausted we were.

By the time we finally landed in Florence, I was beyond exhausted. I was just counting down the minutes until I could get in bed. However, that wait turned out to be a lot longer than I had anticipated...

As we were waiting for our luggage, everyone on my flight was slowly but surely getting their stuff one by one and leaving...everyone except me that is. I was waiting and waiting...and waiting for my ONE suitcase (I had to emphasize the one because I was pretty proud of being able to fit everything I needed for three and a half months in one suitcase) until I was the only person from my flight left standing there and a flight crew worker came out, looked at me, and shrugged his shoulders. Just my luck. At that point, I was already exhausted and emotional (lack of sleep plus that time of the month is not a good combination) and now this. The oncoming tears were stinging the backs of my eyes but I held myself together and went over to the lost and found desk where there were surprisingly four other kids from my program having the same problem and filed a claim for my missing suitcase. They said that my suitcase will likely arrive sometime the next day and they would bring it to my hotel. Now, that's just what they say. All I know is that it is currently the next day and I still don't have my suitcase... So, let's hope I don't have to wait much longer...

Anyways, after that whole debaucle, I made my way outside to the taxi line and literally just handed the cab driver the address and prayed that he took me to the right place because I was about as talkative as a mime considering the day(s)' occurrences and the language barrier. 

After about 20 minutes of some of the scariest driving I have ever experienced, the cab driver pulls over and points to a hotel. Nowhere on the hotel did it say "Hotel Nazionale" so I gave the driver a confused look and showed him the address again. At that point, he got out of the car and went over and pointed to address on the side of the hotel. I didn't know what I was supposed to do so I paid the driver and hesitantly walked into the hotel. When I got inside, I asked the front desk worker if it was Hotel Nazionale to which I got an annoyed sigh and explanation that no, this was 22A; 22B was down the street.

So, I picked up the few items I had with me and made my way down the street until I saw the Hotel Nazionale sign. Once I finally made it to the hotel, I was introduced to the manager and escorted to my room. Thankfully my roommate hadn't arrived yet, so I had the chance to set my stuff down and literally just cry. I let myself break down for about five minutes before I wiped off the tears and forced myself to go into the lounge and socialize.

After a few hours of socializing and picking at food, it's finally time to go to bed.

So, goodnight everyone!

Let's hope the rest of my travels are not nearly as eventful (well eventful in the negative way) as this adventure was...

Ciao for now!

Sincerely yours,

Just Another Original

Packing Pal

Athazagoraphobia

And so the countdown begins… T-12 hours until my next big adventure - Italy!

The day has finally come and I know that I should be over the moon excited - and don't get me wrong, I totally am - but for some reason I am much more anxious than I am excited.  I don't know what it is… Heck, I went to Spain all by myself when I was 16 years old and had no problems with that, so why am I suddenly nervous about this?

Honestly, I am ecstatic about this new adventure!  Italy has been one of my dream destinations for a while (along with Australia and Texas) for as long as I can remember - or more realistically since my Hilary Duff obsession and when I first watched the Lizzie McGuire movie.  Something about Italy just seems so magical.  I am so excited to meet new people, explore new places, and have the experience of a lifetime!  However, with that being said, I still am hesitant to pack up and go…

Quite frankly, I have athazagoraphobia - the fear of being forgotten.  I think that the reason that I am so uneasy with going abroad is because I am scared that people are going to forget about me.  Last semester at LMU was probably the best semester of my entire educational career.  I loved everything about last semester - yes, even the school aspect.  The main reason that I loved last semester so much was that I finally found people whom I truly consider to be my best friends.  

These people are not just the "best friends" that I get lunch with every now and then, take pictures with at events, or send a long sentimental happy birthday text to.  These best friends are the people that I wanted to hang out with after a bad day; the people who I actually wanted to tell about the good, bad, and random things that were happening in my life; the people with whom there were no awkward silences.  I finally felt like I found people who I cared about that cared about me just as much - no hesitations, limitations, or stipulations.

All of my life I have been longing for these kinds of best friendships.  Before moving away from Sacramento, I had this kind of best friend (and still consider her to be my best friend - just in a long distance relationship type way), but friendships in Oregon proved to be different.  When I moved to Oregon, I just wanted to find friends - and fast - so I was always acting like someone I wasn't just to fit in.  In the end, it was all of this fake-ness that caused me to spiral into the whole clinical depression thing.

With that being said, it has taken me a really, really long time to find people who I feel actually care about me for me.  I thank God everyday for finally connecting me with these people, but I question why He put us together only to send me away.  I guess I'm just worried that people are going to forget about me and replace me with other people - like most other people have in the past.

Anyways, I'm done with this pity party.  Moral of the story: please don't forget about me while I'm gone.

Ready or not, it's time to go!  Italy, here I come!

Sincerely yours,

Just Another Original