Sunday, May 23, 2010

Roots & Wings

So here we are. I'm 24 blog posts in and my trip is two weeks from being over.

what can you do

when the curtain falls

what will you do

when the curtain falls

you'll

left, right

I've been listening to "After the Curtain" by Beirut a lot lately and I think it's because it's so relevant to my situation right now. Things are almost over- what way am I going to go now? Now that everything is ending, what direction am I going to choose?

Going out to dinner with a friend tonight really got me thinking about the things I'm going to miss the most (and the things I'm not really going to miss) about living here. I'm sure after a month of being home again I'm going to kick myself for saying this, but I think at this point a big part of me is ready to go home.

Let's start with the not-so-missable stuff first!

I'm not going to miss being bumped into every time I walk on the street. I'm not going to miss how this city completely ate all my shoes. I'm not going to miss how everything seems like it's a struggle here; there's no such thing as convenience. You want a special ingredient for cooking? You need a certain medicine? Sorry, you're pretty much SOL. I'm not going to miss not having any personal space. I'm not going to miss the stupid Ryan Air announcement when your flight arrives on time! I'm not going to miss having to take an Italian class. I'm not going to miss how every time I want to buy something, I have to do a conversion of dollars to euros in my head, or the damn mosquitos, or almost getting hit by a bus everyday. And I'm not going to miss the fact that everything in our apartment is slowly (but surely) falling apart!

But there are a lot of things I'm going to miss.

I'm going to miss the 80 people that I've seen almost every day for the past 10 months. I'm going to miss the ease of traveling to a completely different country. I'm going to miss the trattoria across the street from the De Neri house and the gorgonzola gnocchi. I'm going to miss our weekly Thursday dinners! I'm going to miss being able to see the Duomo from my apartment. I'm going to miss walking up to Piazza Michelangelo whenever I needed a minute alone to think. I'm going to miss dreaming about where my next vacation is going to be. I'm going to miss just how awesome our apartment really is (even though everything is old). I'm going to miss being able to get my family stuff from the places I go. I'm going to miss recognizing the street performers. I'm going to miss rocking out to karaoke at Old Stove. I'm going to miss my 2 euro/month texting plan! I'm going to miss cooking for people. I'm going to miss Jiuliano at Il Teatro who always gives me free champagne whenever I pass by. I'm going to miss all of the construction workers looking like Roman Gods. I'm going to miss not stressing about being a little late to my classes sometimes- because honestly the professors just don't care!

I'm going to miss..... a lot, actually.

But I guess all good things have to come to an end, right? As of this week I've tied up all the loose ends that I wanted to tie up, which makes me feel a lot better about leaving. I was worried that I wouldn't get to say all of the things that I wanted to say; but I did. It's a good feeling.

When it all comes down to it, I'm proud of the things I've done here. I'm proud of the experiences I've had, I'm proud of how much I learned about myself and about other people, and I'm proud of all the things that I've seen. Three continents before 21 isn't bad!

So, until after finals!

Ciao.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Morning Revelation

I promised myself that I wouldn't do this again, and I'm not going to. Moving on; that's all you can do.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

How it ends

I'd like to think that I've made an impression on this city; or, at least, that this city has made an impression on me. I've been here for long enough that I've started to recognize some of the main players. There's the guy with the accordion, who is on a different street corner every time I see him. The tall man with two prosthetic legs who I always see walking down the street. That African Immigrant who always tries to shake my hand and sell me books on the way to school. The guy in the newsstand who is there from sun up to sun down. The lady at the Cafe by school who hasn't liked me ever since I came in and was talking to her son. The man that works at Il Teatro who's name I still don't remember even though he gives me free champagne every time I order a Margherita pizza to go. And then there's the woman at the flower stand, the security guard at the bank I pass when I'm going to teach my kids, the fans who stand outside the soccer stadium waiting for the players to come out of practice, and the lady at the 99 cent store who I haven't seen in a while.

Everyone has their place. Everyone is somebody to this city, and I guess it's that way with most things. It makes me wonder who I am? I'm probably seen as the crazy girl who's always wearing flip flops in the rain. Yup, sounds about right.

It even works the same way with the kids at my school. There's the class clown, the guy who's always late, the girl who is pretty on the outside but not so nice on the inside. The girl who tries to fit in, the guy who tries to fit in. The quiet ones who are really funny when you get to know them, the person who tries to direct everything, the Player.

Even though we all know each other better by now, it all comes down to superlatives.

It's funny, though, I know that I'm more than my "title." I'm more than "biggest flirt," more than the girl who wears flip flops. I'm sure everyone else feels the same way too. It makes me think that maybe we should take more time to get to know people before we put a label on them. Before we classify them as something and refuse to see them as anything more than that. People don't fit neatly inside of a box, it doesn't work that way. And maybe we should start giving people more credit instead of being so quick to judge.

Yeah.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Players only love you when they're playing




Listening to Stevie Nicks always makes me nostalgic for home. It reminds me of being little and doing dishes with my dad (of course, his version would be that he was the one doing dishes and I was just watching); he'd always stop what we were doing and put me on his feet and dance with me around the kitchen. Sometimes out of nowhere, if he was listening to a really good song, he'd call me downstairs (or upstairs, if we were in the Wisconsin house) just to dance with me. Thinking of stuff like this makes me realize how lucky I am to have the family that I do. Of course, it's stuff like this that also makes me miss home the most.

I guess it didn't really help that I found a bunch of pictures from high school on my computer yesterday, either! Things here are kind of at a standstill, and I don't really know what to think of it all right now. I have two papers due, two presentations (one this week and one next week), a makeup class on Friday, and I still have to get the travel section together for the yearbook. The two girls that were working on it with me are both going to be gone this weekend and no one but me has in-design on their computer. 12 page travel section, here I come!

I wish I felt more productive lately! All I want to do is travel- I'm completely over school, I don't want to do it anymore. I feel like I could be learning more by meeting new people and seeing new things than I could by reading Tarchetti's "Tosca."

I think I'm ready for a change of scenery- and it couldn't have come at a better time, my life is going to completely change again in 6 weeks.

6 weeks. That's what this entire adventure has come down to.

6 weeks to finish classes, 6 weeks to get my stuff packed, 6 weeks to say my goodbyes.

I don't really know how to feel about that.

I'm sure not everything is going to be better about the states, just like not everything is better about living in Italy. But I'm going to miss this place when I'm gone. Life just goes on I guess. And maybe going back to the states will help me clear my mind! I feel like my thoughts are stuck on the same things lately and I'm definitely ready to get out of that cycle. I just want to feel like I can breathe again.

On a MUCH lighter note, I'm headed to Morocco for my birthday! I thought my adventures were all over after Ireland but due to an extremely generous fiscal donation from my parental saviors for my birthday I'm back again and going strong. Once I hit up Morocco we'll see where my funds are at- I still want to go to Switzerland! Or back to Austria! Or to Istanbul! Or to Sicily! Who knows what the future holds. Depends on what's cheap! I would also like to return to the states with more than $100 dollars in my bank account (which is where I was BEFORE the generous fiscal donation) so maybe I'll save it so I have gas money to get to work when I get back.

Maaaaaybeeee.

Anyway, I'm trying my hand at meatballs for dinner- everyone says that they're super easy but I've messed up cookies before so we'll see how they come out. If I don't post something new in more than 7 days something probably went wrong.

Got to go start being productive (yuck).

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Phantom Limb


Tuesday night brought the weekly "Beatles Night" at Bebop; one of the only live music venues in Florence. Although I have been known to frequent the nights when Led Zeppelin and The Police are being paid tribute to, I am sad to say that I've never been on Tuesdays when Lennon comes back from his grave. Long story short; it was amazing- if you can look past the extremely small space, the fact that you're probably going to get sweated on by someone, and the possibility (probability?) that an extremely butch mexican girl will grab you in your most special of regions (I'm not speaking from personal experience or anything....) it's a grand ol' time. The Italians pretty much know all the words (which is extremely entertaining to watch during "I am the Walrus") and the band really brings the songs back to life. Dancing/ singing/ laughing the night away was just the beginning of an excellent mid-week experience.

Wednesday I made the educated decision to skip my Dante class in favor of going to the Uffizi for free. Since I missed going to the museum during Woman's Week (when it was also free) I decided that this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. I woke up super early to beat the crowds (which, thankfully I did by a hair!), waited my turn for an hour and a half, and got to go explore. I didn't really mind the wait, Fleetwood Mac kept me company the entire time.

The museum itself is not the best I've ever been to, but some of the pieces that I didn't know were there I recognized. (Not being an art history major I couldn't tell you anything about them, but there was one by Rosso Fiorentino that was on a postcard my grandma sent me once!)

I can now check La Primavera and The Birth of Venus off my list. I'm glad I got around to seeing them before I left! I wrote down the names of some artists and pieces that I liked-slash-recognized on my hand but I came home and washed dishes after the museum and forgot to write them down on a piece of paper. Easy come, easy go!

Later that night Nikki and Molly came over for pizza, and then we went out to Yab since it was only a euro to get in. We made a pit stop at Old Stove in Piazza Signoria so Nikki could see her favorite bar tender/ object of her affections/ whatever-he-is-guy and we ended up meeting some Brazilians outside. Around midnight we left for the club and stayed until 3:30 when we braved the surprisingly-not-as-cold-as-usual weather and walked home. And now Nicola is taking us to the outlets to go shopping!

Yeah, it's been a pretty good week. And it's only half over!

Ciao for now.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

another piece of the puzzle

I think that nothing really ever comes out how you plan it. Things change, and that’s okay. Good things happen when you work for them; great things happen randomly. I guess you just have to be open to change. The end always brings a new beginning, and you have to accept the fact that one can’t come without the other. A chapter is closing in my life but another one is just beginning. And it’s only going to be as good as I make it.

I’m sad to see some things go, and I’m excited for others to begin. All the loose ends that aren’t tied up really won’t matter in 5 short weeks; I think things will be different when I’m 6211.37 miles away from this place (yes I google mapped it). Sometimes things just come to an end on their own, no need to make a big show about it. Eventually you just move on and pick up new ties somewhere else.

It’s all just another part of the adventure!

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Uncorked/ It Always Rains in Galway/ The Longest Blog Post Ever

The next day in Dublin brought the exploration of the Guinness Factory (a must see) and more walking around the city. I can't say I've ever been more educated about beer than at the Guinness Factory tour! (What do you want to know about? Hops? Water? Barley? I can remember it all). To top it all off they gave us a pint of Guinness at the 'Gravity Bar' which has a 360 degree view of the city. After drinking half of our glasses the 'proper' way, I challenged Rosie to a 'chug it' contest. And hell yeah, I won. Sometimes I impress myself with how dainty I am.

That night we ended up going out with the two Spanish guys in our hostel (you know, the ones who brushed their teeth really loud) who were studying in France and were switching between English, Spanish, and French all night. Luckily I don't know any Spanish (besides "tapas") or French ( besides "Omelette du Fromage") so it didn't get confusing. The guys (ironically named "Esteban" and "Nacho"...yes, "Nacho", I didn't believe him at first either) met some of their french friends at the bar we went to. The French guy (ironically named "stuck up jerk"...go figure) wanted to pick a fight with me about American Politics so I definitely gave him a piece of my mind. He was so snooty it was almost unbelievable! His little brother was nice, but that's probably because he was only 17 and was just happy he could sneak into a bar. Oh yeah- what's up with the legal drinking age being 18? Rosie and I got carded everywhere we went, but it was definitely satisfying to prove to people that we WERE over 18, even if we don't apparently look like it.

After a few beers with the guys I got a call from one of the people from our program in Florence. There was a group who was flying to Egypt but were in Dublin for a few days; Rosie then made the decision that we were leaving our newly acquired friends to go meet the CSU kids at another bar. How exciting. Who wouldn't want to hang out with people we see everyday over some losers with stories about France and Spain??

But ANYWAY we met them at a bar and we did have fun. I talked with Augie the entire time while Rosie tried to flirt with Irish men. After the bar, (and after a stop for some bomb ass chili cheese fries) Augie walked us home so we could get a few hours of sleep- and then it was off to Cork!

The bus station we left out of was right down the street from our hostel; so we only had to brave the wind and the rain for a few minutes before we got to sit on a warm bus. The rain stopped pretty soon after we left and it was nothing but beautiful views of the countryside for 4 hours! Once we got to Cork we hiked up a damn mountain to get to our hostel (okay, not really a mountain but I could definitely feel my butt when we got to the top of the hill) and dropped off our stuff because we couldn't check in still for another couple hours. Then it was off to the Blarney Stone!!! A mere 10 euro later and I was hanging upside down with some random guy holding my legs (so I wouldn't plummet 13 stories to the ground). What a rush! Definitely one of the highlights of my trip, although I'm not really sure the gift of gab has kicked in yet. Maybe I already had it and that's why I'm not noticing any change! Hey, Emily's parents did call me "very charming." (ha).

After the Blarney stone we took a bus back to Cork and checked into our hostel. After fumbling with our door for a bit we stepped into our room, only to find.....KEVIN! (Another kid from our program). Although he was going to Egypt with the rest of them, he decided to stay in Galway for a day and then head to Cork. Same town, same hostel, same room! It's definitely a small world. So, the newly formed Three Musketeers braved the torrential downpour and the cold to walk around in Cork. We covered a lot of ground, saw a lot of things, until it started to rain a bit too much for our taste and we took refuge in an old Gothic Cathedral. When we stepped up to the front doors to go inside, two irish guys kindly informed us that the church was closed to visitors as the afternoon Easter Mass was just starting. All three of us took one look at the rain and I asked if it would be okay if we sat through the mass (not wanting to get any wetter than we already were) to which he replied, in an extremely Irish accent, "Far be it from the Church of Ireland to prevent the lady from goin' to 'er mass." Thanks, Irish guy. I like you too.

An adorable little round nun who reminded me of Fionnula Flanagan (http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001217) but way fatter and way cuter gave us our bibles and song books and we were stuck in the Church for an hour and a half. It wasn't so bad- all three of us were raised Catholic so we knew the deal with the whole standing/sitting/kneeling thing. We didn't get free crackers and wine though, which is what we were looking forward to. What a jip! After the service it had stopped raining, so we went back to the hostel to get cleaned up and then went out for a real dinner (no bag o' soup that night!) at a real restaurant. Then Kevin went to bed (he had a 6 am flight to Amsterdam the next day) while Rosie and I hit up the bars. The first few we went to were jam packed with old people but we eventually found one with live music and cheap pints. We talked to some Irish guys for a few hours who were absolutely HILARIOUS- not to mention one of them loved the American version of "The Office" so we had LOTS to talk about. They also taught us how to drink Guinness the "real" way- none of this "sipping stuff" he told us. "You've got to chug it! Like a man!" Thanks for the tip! All in all it turned out to pretty much be my favorite Easter yet, even if we didn't get to hunt for easter eggs. You know you're an adult when you get beer instead of candy!

We listened to the bar music for a while (and sang loudly along to The Kooks song the guy played), and afterwards left to go to bed. We had an early bus to Galway in the morning that we wanted to be sure we caught- I think Galway was the part in the trip that both Rosie and I were really waiting for.

So, we did just that- made sure our stuff was packed before we went to bed, tried to sleep through the incredible amount of extremely drunk people coming in and out of our room, and attempted to ignore the guy singing the Titanic song down the hall at the top of his lungs. (Out of all the songs he had to choose from? Really?) And the next morning we were off bright and early!

At the bus station we ran into a bit of a dilemma- Rosie only had a 50 euro bill and since it was a bank holiday on Monday there was no one at the ticket desk. Before we left our hostel we asked the guy at the front desk if we could buy tickets on the bus, to which he replied with a reassuring "Of course you can!" But, when we got to the bus station, the bus driver rudely informed us that we were "wrong" and had to buy tickets inside. The only place people could buy tickets was from the machine inside of the station.....which had a big sign above that said it did not accept 50's. Since I was running low on cash myself, I didn't have enough for my own ticket and to spot Rosie for hers, so we went back to the bus driver to ask if he had change for a 50. He asked us if he looked like he worked at a bank, because he didn't, he was a bus driver. I decided to let his comment bounce off because I really didn't feel like fighting with a bus driver, when an old Irish couple came to our rescue. The old lady marched right up to the bus driver and told him that was a "smart" comment he just made to "these young ladies." The bus driver said something else that was pretty rude, and she went off on him (in a composed, matter of fact way....there wasn't a WWF smackdown or anything, which, actually might have been awesome) and told him that we were tourists in their country, and it was important to show to us that the Irish are nice people and that the country is a nice country. She then told him that it definitely wasn't our fault that the bus station didn't take 50's ("This is a bus station! You should of course have a change machine!") and then I think the bus driver must have pushed an alarm button or something on the bus because his supervisor came rushing out of the building. The guy didn't exactly apologize but he took Rosie's 50 as well as another woman's 50 and told them that he'd get change...he came back with the one woman's ticket and her money but he told Rosie that he didn't have enough change for her. "Sorry." He then turned away from us like he was going to go back into his office, and I got his attention with an "Excuse me, then what do you propose we do?" He shrugged his shoulders and gave us a blank stare, until the nice lady who had gotten change pulled her and her mother's wallets out so they could give Rosie 20's and a 10 for her 50. Sheesh! We both unanimously agreed afterwards that we both hate 50 euro bills.

(Is anyone still reading this far down?)

But after that little excursion we got to Galway without a hitch, checked into our hostel, and walked around the city. To make a long story short, Kevin had warned us the previous night not to get room number 5 as there was a sketchy bag lady who lived there. We requested not to get room number 5, so the guy moved us to room number 4, which wasn't much better. Instead of a sketchy bag lady we had a sketchy old man, who was apparently very fond of walking around in his tighty-whities and rubbing cream all over his legs. Yeah, it definitely was even more gross than it sounds. There was also a really weird chinese girl who wouldn't talk to anyone but me, and chose to do so when I was trying to read my book (which was getting really good, by the way) in our hostel room. She reminded me of the asian girl from "knocked up"- super awkward, said really weird things, and asked me extremely random questions (like, "am I silly?" and "do you find that people don't understand you?" and, "do you want to go get an apple with me?") WTF.

We also met some nice people too, and the hostel was clean and had a really nice common area. We talked to some Irish guys and two Canadians. Eric and ...that other guy. They asked us to go out with them our first night there, but I was super tired and Rosie didn't want to go out by herself so we just called it a night. After an extremely noisy night in the hostel (apparently our room was directly over a night club, and the old man had a super bad cough which made me think he wasn't going to wake up in the morning) we asked to switch to a different room. They ended up accidentally overbooking the room they switched us to, so we got upgraded to a four person room. We walked in and- surprise!- there were the Canadian guys who had gotten switched too. That day we ended up going to the Cliffs of Moher- it was an absolutely beautiful day and the bus ride was amazing (the hills were SO GREEN!) and our bus driver even sang us an Irish jig on the way home over the loud speaker. We stopped at castles and other ruins on our way to the Cliffs so we got to see a lot of stuff for the small 7.50 we paid for the tour (which included the bus ride, by the way. Who says I can't penny pinch??) After the tour we went out to dinner in Galway where we sat next to a couple having the most awkward first date EVER. It was an American girl and an Irish guy...she was going on about how she didn't believe in living with someone before she's married, and how it's so sad to see her little sister drinking at 16 because "she doesn't waste her time with smoking and drinking and all that other shit." wowzaaa talk about a stick up you know where. I think it wasn't the fact that she didn't drink or smoke that made things awkward, it was the fact that she was so super intense about everything. After she said that the Irish guy took a big swig of his beer and just sighed. Lighten up, lady!

We went back to our hostel room, and ended up teaching the Canadians how to play Kings Cup (Rosie and I didn't really remember all the rules, because we're so used to just following other people's lead). But we made them up as we went along, and all in all it was an extremely successful game (especially since we didn't have to pay for any of the beer involved). They took us out to a bar afterwards where the one guy actually agreed to karaoke with me (to a Queen song even!). Last call at the bar was at 2, so we went to a club afterwards where we sat on the upstairs balcony and watched people (try) to dance downstairs. After a while we all got tired and turned into bed. The next day we made it back to Dublin Airport to catch our flight home to Pisa. After getting in at midnight to Pisa we had to wait a few hours for a bus to show up and take us back to Santa Maria Novella and then we walked the rest of the way home!

It was certainly a whirlwind adventure; some parts were what I was expecting and other parts weren't. We met a lot of people, had some interesting encounters in our hostel but I definitely am glad that we went when we did- the weather was beautiful and we pretty much got to do/see most of the things we wanted to. As for now, we're both back in Florence taking it easy until school starts tomorrow. It feels good to be home though.

Ciao for now.