The last weekend

Maybe I should start with Amsterdam where I saw an entire arena of people from all over the world come together for one rave. Or I could start with the 16 hours of sleep that followed. Or with the Sunday that began with banana pancakes and bacon on our big wooden table.  The last weekend is over but it's really been one of the best. And not just because it started on a Wednesday. But maybe.
Some cute stuff all us roomies did includes waking up at 3 pm every day and starting the discussion of cleaning the place up for move-out. We hit up the Christmas markets at Santa Croce to look around and eat Polish sausages.  It was so pretty when the sun started setting and all the lights looked like magic. We watched Home Alone in a dark kitchen with these grocery store sugar cookies that may as well be crack. We walked out to the duomo and perfected the art of asking different people to take our picture in front of the Christmas tree. See you have to pick someone out that a) looks like they know how to use a camera b) is with a significant other so you can return the picture-taking favor c) isn't wearing a puffy jacket holding a baby wearing a puffy jacket. I almost asked this one lady to take the picture but when I realized she was in this puffy jacket baby situation, I knew better. And I did think about offering to hold her baby while she took our picture, but then we'd have a picture of all of us in front of the Christmas tree holding some woman's baby. And that's just awkward.

Speaking of babies I AM ONE, I left the apartment for a few hours today to finish up some paintings and already started missing everyone at home. Like I just wanted to go back and be with them. And we're supposed to say goodbye on Thursday? I'm so screwed.

Grow slow

Going to another country for a semester, it's like all of a sudden you have to be smart like an adult.  So much to remember for yourself. Keep your passport somewhere safe. Don't take your debit card out with you.. Be a smart drunk.  I know this all was supposed to happen 4 years ago, and it did, in a way, but living in a different country is different. You have to be responsible not just for your classes and commitments, but for yourself, for your well-being. My mom wasn't here to drag me to get my ends trimmed or to tell me oh it's nothing, you're probably just dehydrated.  And it's not even that I didn't have my mom, I didn't have anybody. It was me, 10,000 unknown street names and that god-forsaken language barrier. What do you mean no capisco??? But in the chaos of it all I had to remember all the important stuff. To shave my legs, keep track of important documents and figure out how to do stuff.

FYI, I am not good at that. My brain prefers long weekends and minimal common sense requirements.  So in the wisdom of my roommate I had to learn to say, "if you don't know how to do it, just.. figure it out." 4 months later, I learned a little, fucked up a lot, and found that the roommates in kitchen when I get home is a cure for any bad day.

I'm not saying I know anything, and I surely don't know everything, but it is in these little things I learned while living in Florence that I found life can be really, really, so damn good. Or maybe I'm just a 89 year-old-man at heart. Either way, see if you agree:

1. When trying new food at the foreign grocery store, only buy a little bit in case you don't like it. But I went to Italy and I found that, more often than not, I liked it.  The best is when you do actually like it but run out, so you leave class and go straight to the grocery store before you go home to get more. See: salami toscano

2. Ask your professor questions.  That's so cliche but so something I needed to learn.  You don't even know all the answers they got out there.....

3. Don't leave your keys at home. This crazy thing will happen where you'll be locked out and it will probably be raining.

4. Don't forget to fall in love with yourself, first.  Then break all the hearts you want. Karma, bitch.

5. Do laundry before you run out of clean underwear. Or else it will be bikini bottoms in November and people will wonder why you smell like sunscreen. Also because we don't have a dryer and it takes +24 hours for my clothes to dry. Isn't there some kind of Chemistry law against that?

6. Look people in the eye. Especially at first when you don't know anyone. People say this all the time and I was always like ok ok sure, but when you start really doing it, you're like ohh. That's why.

7. When he offers you the world, remember you have your own. But who ever said 2 worlds weren't better than one?

8. End each day with a glass of wine. The 1.99 kind if you're going to be doing this every day. It's up to you/which day of the week it is to decide if by glass I mean 750 mL glass bottle.

9. Don't compare your sketchbook with someone else's gallery piece. You'll just start cursing at everyone and blaming your paintbrushes or attributing all your problems to the fact that you don't have a Mac.

10. Every day (I'm serious. Every day.) take an hour to do nothing but sit, talk, laugh, drink, and do nothing.  You'll make the best friends, laugh the hardest you've ever and finally understand the whole happiness thing.  Which, if you can believe it, is not standing at the stove eating pasta out of the pot in your underwear.

11. If you don't believe in magic, you won't find it. Oh, but if you do..

12. Learn how to say "go fuck yourself" out loud, with total confidence and no reservation to the filthy strangers on the street who figure out some way to disrespect you with their snakes of hands. Convince yourself that saying those words in public is totally respectable, in the name of your temple of a body. And if you're in Italy.... they are Italians, after all.

13. Grow slow. Make 13-numbered lists of things and swear to yourself to live by each one, but remember there's always something else. Something you didn't know. Something that will tell you you're wrong. About everything. Accept that, and keep growing.

When I get back I have so many people to thank, to hug, to remember again. I have debts upon debts to work back up, pounds my thighs and face could do without, two delicious black bunnies to snuggle. When I get back, I'm going to be happy, but I'm going to be so, so sad. I'm going to be the girl walking around with a bottle of wine in one arm and everyone I love in the other, refusing to believe we're anywhere else in the world besides Florence, Italy.

Live-action blogging

Scene: going in to work on stuff at school. Stopped to grab a panino at the bar next to my school. While I wait for the sandwich to heat up, I nod and smile at the two old ladies talking rapidly at the same time to me in Italian and waving their hands all over the place in my face. I give Mario, the man with a black ponytail who works there, the what is going on help me look. Mario winks and laughs, then wraps up a free pastry to go with my sandwich.

Now can you see why I'm in no rush to leave??

She's pure as New York snow

My friends have started a countdown

and, 

So time to realize I actually have to leave this place. Yesterday I put some dirty laundry in my laundry basket, which concluded my first step towards packing. Also got some upcoming flight info sorted out, and by I, I mean my grandpa because he's good at things like getting upcoming flight info sorted out (my mom says its because of his NY accent- and I believe it). Also started buying less groceries because, well, not much time left to eat them all (don't worry I'll find the time, somehow.) 

So those are my stay calm deep breaths towards accepting time's up. I'd say I'm getting better at it but hot tears were inching down my cheeks after watching Monsters, Inc. yesterday in Italian class so I don't know if I'm definitely getting better at it yet or not per say. 

AND just so you know, a semester spent holed up in the pretty little studios (see: leaking roofs, crowded easels, sloped tables) of SACI Florence means I made a lot of stuff. I mean documenting it all should count as a final project of its own. So while there are tons of other things I could do with it all, I figure I might as well just show it off on here, aka tabs at the top. They don't have anything in them yet, but you just wait! 

ps, is it towards or toward? 

I miss everyone. See you guys soon. Readers in Taiwan, I miss you too. Prob won't see you soon.. 

To: everyone studying/writing/working for/a/on finals

You got this. 

Hang in there even when your paws start slipping on the floor

while you're just trying to eat a good breakfast before your exam.

And: 

that.

Good luck/in bocca al lupo! (in the mouth of the wolf!)

Now you say, "Crepi" 

it means die. 

I know, we're so cool here in Italy 

Leave the world behind girl

2 weeks and 29348093 things to do. Bet 99% of you agree. We've got big things going on over here in Florence and if I don't make it out of these last few weeks alive, I'll be the heap of plaster/oil paint/watercolor/ink/italian notes in my bed. Which could mean the one here or in America, depends how far I make it before collapsing. I went to bed early last night because if you can't tell I've been staying up really late.. working on stuff. Yea so that was a good decision because this morning was highly productive. And tomorrow morning, our fresco class is hopping *yep, like bunnies* on a train to head to the children's hospital where we are going fresco the whole place to pieces!! I'll send pictures.  Then this weekend we're thinking about hitting up Rome, where I'll make the Colosseum and Kanye's house both priorities of sights2see. Equal opportunity, guys. Then NEXT Tuesday, my illustration class is heading to this French elementary school where we will read our children's books to the children. My prof describes the school as "aristocratic." Not intimidated at all.  Then guess what's Wednesday? It has to do with Amsterdam, Swedish House Mafia and One Last Tour. ......?? Anyone??



Shut up how'd you know!

Until then, if you want to know what's up you can stop by the painting studio, one of the sandwich places the Oil Shoppe, or my kitchen while I'm frying butter and onions and thinking I'm such a good cook. Or iMessage me at 3 am. I'll probably be up.

Boy

Can't say I'm not excited to come home. 

ps. excuse the language

For the prof

essor. and sure why not for the blog.

Working on the figure paintings was a full-on mental [and emotional] adventure. Getting the colors right.......my worst enemy....... still not done being mad at her...getting the colors right is a woman.... Then physically getting those colors onto the canvas the way I made them. Then working those colors into the painting the way I want them. Multiple times convinced myself I'm just not a "colorist" as Matisse would put it. Even that I'm not an painter. Never felt such passionate frustration towards a technique or a process.

The adrenaline of the challenge sometimes made it fun. As you infamously quoted me in class for saying "This is so hard, it's fun!" The stress when the model's time was up but I hadn't done all I wanted to do made it overwhelming. Sometimes there were good feelings, like when I had a "good color day" and made all the colors I wanted and all the colors did what I wanted them to do. I felt accomplished and proud and loved painting and the model and life in general. Whether the session with the model was good or bad would honestly affect my mood for the rest of the day.  Might have even been a session I left school in a fury all choked up with tears welling and my scarf wrapped up to my eyes attempting to hide my about-to-cry face but I think I deleted that day from happening on a count of me being a 21-year-old.

Going back and forth between the subjective and objective paintings helped me discern between what I was seeing and what I was looking at. Subjectively, I saw lime greens where skin tones should be, triangle shapes in a thigh, weight in the light of solid purples.  I let my mind do the painting.  Objectively, I had to direct my eyes and mind at the same time, so that together they could make a conscious effort to paint what was in front of me.

Going back and forth was where it got muddy. In my mind and on the palette. Setting out on the objective voyage, I had to get the whole figure on the space. And proportionately.  Taking on the subjective safari [you like that?] it didn't matter what made it onto the canvas, or how. So there was no pressure, no expected outcome.  And then from there, there was no checklist, no set order of instructions. The color, composition, brush strokes, drawings within the painting, all had to be worked into the canvas at the same time. How do you do 8 things at the same time? I don't know! I just know that I tried, and I did it, I think, or somewhat at least, and that those times when it clicked, where I thought, "Oh! Like this! This is what he means!" were heavenly, though few and far between.

You told us at the beginning of the semester that the subjective and objective meet in description.  This phrase has taken over my life since we started the figure paintings. I think about those words all the time and when I'm painting, they are my map.  I know what you mean, now, about that. And to try and explain it any further would be silly.

Just watched this

and it's awesome.

Please send your complaints to..

I wish I wasn't allergic to fruit but I definitely am.
I wish laundry was fun because it's not.
I wish my tea didn't get so cold so fast so I could drink it on my own time but it always stays hot for like 2 minutes.
I wish I could erase without getting a billion eraser crumbles in my lap but I can't it happens every single time.
I wish I could function on 2 hours of sleep every night so I could stay up and talk but I'm just not built for nocturnal..ity.
I wish I was better at change but that's nothing new.
And I wish the thought of leaving here in a month wouldn't make me cry in the shower.
But it does.

ALSKDJFS;;;;;LSKL WAIT DECEMBER BUT WE'RE NOT DONE HERE YET

Things I did on a weekend I actually stayed in Florence

-Slept in really, really late.
-Ate 4+ bowls of cereal in our sunny kitchen with the roomies. For those of you who also see nothing wrong with this (I KNOW you're out there), thank you for also seeing nothing wrong with this.
-Caught up on tried to do something related to school work.
-Got Oil Shoppe sandwiches (4th of the week) with 2 roommates and sat in the middle of the piazza while people-watching/people-laughing. Saw friends and felt cool because there's not a whole lot more to feeling like a local than saying hi to friends in the middle of the piazza.
-Took naps and asked each other how they were.
-Woke up from naps to Citizen Cope blasting in the kitchen and a roommate asking if I'd prefer a shot of Absinthe or a mixed drink of Absinthe. Note: the drink was mixed with ice. With a lemon slice in it.
-Invited/expected everyone over in hopes they'll bring something more drinkable than toxic lime green green hallucinogens.
-VIP for the very important people. Which according to Florence, is a couple of poor college girls who happen to look smashing in black.
-Secret bakery (I can't tell you what this is because it's a secret. No really.)
-Had birthday parties for classmates that started at noon don't be late I don't care if you're hungover and lasted until some time that said a.m. at the end of it.
-Watched the Fiorentina play a violent game of futbol that would never fly in America, but gets the Italians good and riled up. And when you're around all that you find your classy self shouting mean, nasty words at the other team and giving them a middle finger or two.
-Got big cheesy pizzas in big purple jerseys.
-Finally home to re-hyrdrate and begin the most productive/equally successful part of the weekend: Sunday night with the sketchbook and the promise of another night of being awake more than being asleep.

Ciao for now, hope your weekends were just as recharging and relaxing as mine. In the no-sleep kind of way, duh.

And it's understood to me we belong in freedom's way

Travel alone and you'll find that it's the least lonely you'll ever be.

I did the Florence-to-Pisa-to-London part with a friend, but after we landed, I was on my own. We originally planned to go to this Andrew Salgado exhibit together, but trying to meet up in that tube-tangled city was barely even realistic in our heads. She had a friend in Bristol. I wanted to stay in London, and kind of marveled at the idea of being on my own anyway. I've always known of friends my age doing this kind of thing (all guys) and figured why can't I? I'm a girl, but I could do it. I'm sort of known for being incredibly stupid, but I'm brave. I had never done anything like this but at least they spoke English.

Taking not much more than these facts and my passport, I went head first into the weekend and didn't look back.  

I actually made my hostel reservations on my iPhone in the Pisa airport, about 6 hours before I would check in that night. Literally googled it, closed my eyes and picked one. In Wimbledon. Maybe I'd see one of those hot tennis players. When I got off the plane and through border control, I didn't really know what to do next. Get to my hostel?  I think it's in Wimbledon, but I didn't write down the address and of course I don't have wifi anymore.  I went to the train station beneath the airport and told the lady I needed to get to Wimbledon. It was like a 30 dollar/euro/pound/who knows anymore ticket and a 2-hour ride with 2 changes. Ahhh English. Like a cool glass of water.
But wait what.
What. Did I get myself into.

There were plenty more stomach-dropping whatamIdoing moments, and even more ohmygodIlovethis ones, and I learned so, so much.

Like when 0 of 3 old man taxi drivers in Wimbledon who have lived in Wimbledon for 30 years have never heard of your hostel, you go for the young one, try not to freak out first, then go for the young taxi driver with the iPhone who can look it up for you.

I'm talking to myself here, people.

And when you get to your hostel and the owner is a handsome 30-year-old Scottish guy who gives you the tour of the place like you're the newest member of the family, give yourself a secret pat on the back for unintentionally choosing the best hostel in the world.

When you're lost on the sidewalk and a 20-something jogger comes up and asks if you're lost and need help, say yes. Especially if you can hear Drake playing loudly through his jogging earbuds. Because even though he's ditching his errands and not to mention his run just to help you find your way, in the next 4 hours you'll have seen half of Islington through the eyes of a local and make a friend you'll probably never see again.

When you start tearing up at the Andrew Salgado exhibit because it's so beautiful, it's O.K. Because the art director of the gallery will be moved by your sensitivity and introduce himself. And he's an art director and that's what you want to be, so. Wipe those eyes.

When some new friends invite you to party with some Hollister models from South Africa, say yes. And maybe say yes again, just to be sure they know that yes, yea you do want to do that. If you're wondering if they smelled like August, they do.

There were fish and chips to eat ketchup with and underground trains to master and fall leaves to crunch. Did I mention Banksy? That's one hell of a blog post in itself.

And I got to do a lot of staring subtly looking and playing my favorite game: figuring out about people. When you're by yourself so much you have to get good at staring and figuring out about people or else you'll be bored out of your mind.

So, even it's for a long weekend, go somewhere completely new by yourself. Have no plans and every intention of getting so lost you want to scream.  Let your adventure turn into an adventure. It will be one you couldn't plan if you tried. And when you're in such a hopeless mess of confusion that you're convinced you're not coming out alive, just know that it always, always works out. I don't know why. But it does. And it's beautiful.

You're the king but I'm the lionheart

Something funny happened at the zoo in Berlin. First of all, I spent about an hour standing in front of the lion couple's cage because there were just so. damn. cool. I mean they are just beautiful, really beautiful animals. I also took enough pictures of them to make me dread uploading fall break pictures and put it off until now. But this happened and it was so funny I'm glad I have the pictures. Design-wise I can't get over that they're not all the same orientation, but oh well. Check this girl out. 

Hi. Can I come up there?

__

Cheers to all the queen lions of the world! 

Who do you need? Nobody. You're lucky nobody's around

LIFE RECCOMENDATION: travel alone

WELL HI

I've been on the road, literally, for the past 10 days doing fall break stuff and if  you're wondering if it's possible to fall in love 5 times in 10 days, it is.  Here I'll show you how:

-Start driving at 10 pm in a big bus with 20 of your closest people you've never met before. Wake up  with a sore neck to sunrises in Germany. 

-While waiting for a train, allow an old man to come up to you and say in a scratchy German accent, "Only for you, only one time," and then proceed to throw a handful of paper hearts into the air above your head. 

-Walk around Berlin in the crisp early sunlight and decide no this this is your favorite city in the world.  Find yourself standing in front of a vast memorial for European Jews and let your heart drop at the power of its size. Then an adorable fall couple sharing coffees and donuts on one of the cement blocks will warm your heart back up again. 

-Get currywurst and mulled wine for lunch (sausage with curry ketchup and hot wine, kind of like apple cider, but wine) and see the Berlin wall. Go to the zoo. A beer garden. Eat more sausages. Drink more beer and when you go out to eat at a cavernous German restaurant, order pork knuckle. Seriously do it.  Don't sleep but wake up in Amsterdam. 

-Eat delicious baked goods called "happy cakes" for breakfast and walk around the city feeling like this.  Take pictures you'll only slightly remember taking.  

Laugh enough to end all wars.  

Take your heart back from Berlin and give it all to Amsterdam because you've never fallen so hard for a place in your life.

-Say good morning to Brussels! Step out of the bus and into a magestic land of castles and sexy business men in gorgeous suits. Go to take a picture of Mannekin Pis but notice the three siblings taking a picture in front of it and automatically miss your little brothers more than you ever thought you would. Take a picture of them instead. Find a chocolate named "Carolina" and smile. Buy it and eat it dramatically like your in a Dove commercial. Carb up on waffles that taste more like magic than waffles, then hit up Delirium, the bar with millions  a lot of beers and won best beer in the world in 2004. Drink a mango beer and start missing blueberry wheats at Topo. This city is so bittersweet, so enchanting, you promise it forever. 

-Feel guilty for leaving Belgium so soon after he swept you off your feet, but France shows you this sunset and before you know it, you're flirting with Paris. Champagne under the Eiffel Tower until the early morning hours with friends. That's about all it took.   

-But then. Barcelona. 

You forget everything. It's warm finally. Busy. Relaxing. Beautiful. And so much fun. 

The kind of fun where you go out at night with everyone all dressed up, dance until the beach clubs close at 6, and fall into the sand out front while you watch the sun rise. 

This is where you decide you'll stay. 

I don't know whether the 14 hour bus ride back to Florence was torture, 

or just plain hell, but I can tell you two things. 

That I can't hold a single sip of water to save my life and that after trying to sleep sitting up, I'll never complain about a twin bed again. 

Oh and one more thing. That when we finally got back to Santa Maria Novella, it didn't take long to conclude that Florence is it. The one. The best city in the world. 

The quiet walk back to the apartment through the packed-up-for-the-night- San Lorenzo market street, the feeling of arriving at our big front door that I love so much, 

seeing the other two roommates already home from their fall breaks. Yes. 

Europe I'm a let you finish but uh.. Florence takes the cake on this one. 

Bed blogger

I'm really tired
Kinda stressed
too full
Haven't packed
Nauseas from being so tired
Skipped my BC three days in a row
Can't find my sunglasses
Didn't shower
Maybe I'm nauseas from skipping three days in a row
My feet are cold because the blanket won't reach
My arms are sore from holding my phone up
As I'm observing my physical state I realize that I'm also extremely thirsty

But I am so happy... that I could scream. If I had the energy. And a glass of water. I'd happy scream my vocal chords to pieces.

Leggings until the day I die

Have you ever been to a chocolate festival?
Have you ever lost track of how many chocolate things you've eaten in one day?
Have you ever truly been chocolate wasted?

And if the answers are all yes, have you ever regretted it?

I am about 63 pounds happier and don't think my stomach has ever gone to such stretches as it did this weekend in Perugia for euro chocolate festival 2012.  I just want to give a big THANK YOU to my wardrobe team for picking out an elastic skirt and oversized long-sleeves to wear that morning, because while the stretchy outfit was unintentional it was totally the smartest thing ever because chocolate baby is overdue.  And now I can't even look at my skinny little Citizens, much less fit into them, no I'm not planning on even trying.  I'm kind of exaggerating but.. kind of not. So leggings- I'm looking at you. Dazzle me. Or at least give me something to wear.

1. The Leggings that Look Like Pants but are Leggings

Are ingenious. Find the seams and tailoring of your skinny jeans without the sitting down part where you have to kind of slouch with your butt on the edge of your seat and your legs as straight out as possible because they're too tight. And without looking like you're on your way to dance practice. I like black because I don't have black pants, but these are hot and would look great with all the fur vests I have. ..Just kidding I wish I even had fur vests to say that about but they're under a hundred at Free People and should be worn with highly contrasting textures like fur or gauze or wool to avoid giving anyone the slightest idea that you actually think these are real pants. 

2. Leggings that Look Less Like Pants but Still Kinda Look like pants but No Button or Zipper

Or denim seams that leave a long seam imprint down your thigh when you peel them off.  And they're stonewashed, like everything should be. These are Calzedonia, which are everywhere here (and have cute youtube commercials) so maybe you'll have to find an American equivalent on your own. Or I can do that for you. (And they're on sale! I'm so good to you.)  Warning: these guys are so comfortable you won't be able to stop rolling around on the carpet in them and might be late for class. P.s. guys can be used in more than one way there if you want. 

3. The Be Girly Without Having to Be Girly  

in black lace. So FP wanted to go ahead and do it again with the oversized tee as a dress look and I couldn't think more highly of it.  What better cure for the post chocolate festival chub sickness (it's a sickness, I swear) than the oversized tee as a dress look? But the leggings are the star of this look here, and your winning numbers? $36 and .64.  They're sheer so they may not be a complete substitute for your pants that wont button anymore, but I think I said they were only $36.64.. Oh, yeah, yep yes I did. And verbally compared it to winning the lottery.

4. Fake Leather, Original Gangsta

Wearing fake leather is like being Lana del Rey. People might make fun of you, but you are so awkwardly glamorous and badass, it really doesn't matter. If you don't know how to be glamorous and badass, it's really easy and addicting. I'll teach you. 1. Get these here 2. When they come in the mail (because you probably don't have three Zaras down the street from you if you don't live in Florence) lay on your floor while you put them on and play Ride. 3. Get up and put your sunglasses on before you walk out of your room. And continue to wear them around the apartment. When people ask you what's wrong, keep a straight face and respond "nothing." If you ruin it and start laughing, just tilt your head to the sky and spread your arms out and say something hipster like, ~don't be a tourist, be a traveler.~ And no one will question you again. 

5. The Yess Already Have These 

These are also Calzedonia, but doesn't matter because they're just gray and plain and perfect.  Let's just be sure to take a second to pledge that we won't pair them with a sweatshirt and/or Uggs.  There are too many pretty studs and hot-to-the-touch leather out there in Fall 2012 shoe land to ever go back to Uggs, and if you feel so choco-fat that you put on a sweatshirt with your leggings.. you need to get back in your underwear and back into bed. That's just cheating so try a big tank from this summer and a jean jacket instead.  No one will know that there isn't anything ab-like or skinny under there.  That's the difference between the sweatshirt and the actually-got-dressed-this-morning.

So when you accidentally eat too much chocolate this fall, remember it's okay. Because it was delicious and you're too busy catching the train to get back to class to regret anything these days anyway.  Also because now you have the magical leggings trend to sneak into, without anyone ever knowing your 28 Longs said no. It's like a trick and a treat.

Sometimes

When I'm laying in bed about to fall asleep I just think..

We're the lucky ones.

Things, as of late

-Fridays, and precious redheads
-Mario the fresco prof has starting bringing us breakfast from the bakery across the street.. So with that and the American style coffee he makes us every morning.. Mario you're in the running of becoming Italy's BEST PROFESSOR IN THE GD WORLD and you make it really hard not to be consistently excited to wake up for a 9 am.
-When I walked into a building trying to figure out if it's a police station and literally had to resort to asking "excuse me.. where am I? The man pointing to his badge did nothing for me but thank goodness for the bilinguals of the world.
-iPhone pictures of my mom's kids posing in front of the whiteboard all dressed up for tAcKy DaY.
-Italian college kids that have to hang out with us on Fridays so we can practice conversation. It's like  the x-rated version of Italian class. Let's just say we aren't learning how to say "I studied and went to sleep last night" Alone, at least.
-Dates with girls at a ristorante where you sit down sober and stand up, hours later, not sober.
-I haven't been very good about taking pictures
-Sitting on roofs under sunsets for little trips to aperitif heaven. We do a lot of sitting here. And a lot of aperitifs.
-My bunnies were jealous of the baby lamb from the post I wrote about holding a baby lamb so that was awkward. So was skyping with them.
-Mastering the art of making the perfect amount of pasta for one serving. No more still-hungry lunches or ohmygod-are-you-sure-a-box -is-one-serving dinners?
-It gets very very quiet outside the apartment on Friday afternoons and I like thinking it's because everyone's cuddled up at home relaxing after a long week.
-Swedish House Mafia is hot and I'm seeing them in December in Amsterdam so there's your 99% probability that I'm staying here forever.
-Starting not to care about anything back home anymore, minus people, and it's kind of sad but like, no, Twitter, I don't want to follow Michael's and Topo, your specials today mean nothing to me because I think I don't miss you at all.
-I cleaned our bathroom and it was half- awful never doing this again, half- satisfying. And half- unspoken best roommate of the week award. And how the boyfriend (!!??!) thought it was "so nice" from 8000 miles away and.. doesn't even live here. I'll do it a hundred times again if he keeps it up.

Ok when you put cleaning bathrooms on the list it's time to stop the list. But aren't clean sinks the best?

The day the pasticceria had its way with me and I liked it

Yesterday I went to the questura to get fingerprinted for my permit of stay. At 6:45 am. It was an hour I hope no one has to experience.. ok it's not that early.. and it's actually freezing in the mornings now but when you endure it with friends, it ends up 1. being not that bad and 2. with a chocolate croissant. Soooo you know you gotta multiply by 3. Going ahead and admitting it here like it's one of those confession boxes: Yesterday I ate 6 croissants. Depending on whether or not you want to count the ones with chocolate inside.  I swear I would have had it together if it weren't for the way they smell when you walk by. Or for the nice fat man who tells you buongiorno like it's your first day in Italy. But it was, and I didn't, and sometimes, you just have to give in to the seduction of the pasticceria.

Dead ends, clarified

If you need me, I'll be the one in the hat and ostrich feather dress, sulking with a baby goat in my arms out somewhere in the Italian countryside. I found out there is no Zadig and Voltaire in the United States. My life is almost meaningless. I had written a post about wanting to design and work in art direction for the brand, because I love it so much.  But didn't take more than 5 minutes and an airhead moment to realize if I want to work for a non-American brand, I'll have to work in ..not America.  It doesn't really matter though because passion is fate and we'll still be together somehow, someday. I just know it. Even if I have to fly back and forth to work for the gorgeous brand. Went back again to the store yesterday just to pout in the bittersweet heartbreak. Doused myself in his and her eau de toilettes because I didn't particularly care if I smelled like him or her, as long as it was both Z and V.  Then I strolled along the racks of fall clothing trailing my fingers against the sweet wool and pyramid studs, pausing to admire the leather bags and the spiked heels.  A gentle goodbye.. a simple see you later.  When it was time to part ways, I looked up at Camile Rowe in all of her white-framed sophistication as I placed my sunglasses over my eyes and shed a single tear. Then I made my final, graceful exit and went on my way.  This wasn't goodbye, this was see you around. (press play for full effect-->) 

Ok. We're good now. Happy Sunday to youu hope it feels like sheets and smells like coffee!

Taking over this town, they should worry

I don't have anything particularly interesting to say, other than it's cold and rainy today so thanks for sending the big weather boomerang that I aimed at your couch last night back over.  Except I don't really care that you did that because it's just as cozy and fun as you all tweeted it was. Well, as cozy and fun a day can be without a big blanket and a chest.  But it's okay because we're sitting here in the rooftop student lounge with cappuccinos and a kick ass view of the duomo so I think I'll be ok.  Besides, the chilly mist makes my cheeks kind of red so it looks like I remembered to put on makeup this morning.  Also really thrilled about my umbrella- I paid a street vendor 10 euro (mistake #1) for a flimsy piece of mechanical failure with a really, really bad Louis Vuitton pattern. (mistake #2). Plus being tall and carrying an umbrella in the city sucks because you just end up holding it way above your head trying to get past everyone else also carrying umbrellas. So I'd say I'm probably better off ditching the umbrella, ducking beneath the crowds of umbrellas and making a run for it.  I'm so city chic it's not fair.

Pick me up, oh, from the bottom up to the top, love

Ev a ree dayyyy

Every day this is what's for dinner. #italyproblems 

But today I tried to mix it up and put chicken and chopped up onions in a pan with some butter.. and when everyone came home it was an OH-MY-GOD-WHATDIDYOUCOOK fest. I tried to explain I literally just threw those foods in a pan as if I was playing kitchen in elementary school or something, but I mean if they want to think of me as Top Chef from here on out then that's on them. I'll just answer to when called upon carry on with the oh gosh, no, not me's! Here here for domestic triumphs!

hollywood from danielletodesco on 8tracks Radio.

and good playlists

MOOR GOOD LOOKS (pretend like all the OO's are eyeballs) 

-Gas stoves. Have won me over in the internal struggle vs. electric.  I didn't even know gas stoves still existed- which has brought me a lot of dumb blonde smack from my roommates #caryproblems- but now I know and prefer gas ones. They'll boil water even if you watch the pot, and before your stomach starts eating itself while you wait. 

-The iOS6 little monkey emojis because they are just so little and cute and I just want to pick them up and pet them and talk to them in high pitched voices all day.

-Beer steins fresh from Oktoberfest, sitting proudly amongst the other taken bar glass in our cupboards. We've bred a skillful team of bar glass collectors in this apartment.  In a league so premier we don't even use regular cups anymore. Gotta make the 6.5 euros/drink worth it. 

-Facetime with my littlest bro who just got a fresh haircut and his braces off and could quite possibly be the handsomest fella in the world.  Actually no I'm sure he is. 

-Masquerade ball masks to be worn around the apartment at all times, especially when doing laundry, buying Swedish House tickets online or drinking green tea. Whichever you feel is more appropriate. 

-The Boboli gardens but not really at all because sitting up there in the sun for 3 hours of class while you paint the city and mosquitoes snack on every part of exposed skin would be suicidal without my friend K to complain with and the new Ellie Goulding album on repeat to remind me it wont last forever. 

-I get gelato every day. 

Now stop tweeting about movies and snuggling up on your man on this cold rainy day.  

It's 72 here, we have all the windows open and it feels fantastic. 

Can I break it down

Yesterday was quiet and productive, the kind of morning that lasts all afternoon. Last night was effortlessly fun, the kind of white peach sangria that makes you love your friends more than life itself.  Today was good, the kind of futbol game afternoon that initiates you as a real live European.  And now I'm listening to this:

and laying in this

and drinking this

And thinking about this

Thank god for weekends. 

"The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing" -Socrates

Before I left America, my grandma reminded me to have a wonderful time and not to order coke, order beer.  That the coke isn't good here, but the beer- The beer is good.

After classes, I like to walk around the city for no particular reason other than I really have nothing else to do and also I like being by myself way more on average than your basic loner.  Today after class I was walking in the direction of my apartment on the other side of the river and realized I really didn't have anything else to do. I mean I could always go into the studio and work on projects, but obligations.. there were none.  I didn't have any more classes for the day, no work to go into.. no baby to get home to.. (haha.. sorry I read mom blogs) but there I was, walking along Via back-road-something with a free afternoon and a cute outfit. So I decided I'd keep it that way. For a few hours at least. I was trying not to eat until dinner because we got really drunk last night and had enormous amounts of some late night snacks but I was starving and it was around 4 anyways.

Learned in class this is an American crop.
Midway through the legs.
Italian crop is an extreme close up

So I went to this pizza cafe I recently found that is so yum and doesn't make you pay to sit at the tables outside and got some pizza and remembered not to get a coke. You are the loner American girl, I said to myself, sitting down by herself with an entire ok yeah, an entire pizza and a beer and you don't even have a phone to look at to pretend like you have something to do.

It's not that it's even that weird to eat at places by yourself, I just manage to make it weird because I end up staring at people until they think I'm plotting to steal their children.  So it's a tough thing to get used to, sitting by yourself without a phone, but at least I had a cute outfit.

It took me 42 minutes to finish eating and drinking and staring.  And when I got up to throw my plate away I tripped a little bit on my chair, which definitely absolutely everyone just saw you do that and stopped eating to raise their eyebrows at you and hide their children and you're like wait I promise I didn't trip because I'm tipsy, it's just this chair see it was like this.. Then I realized no one cares and definitely no one was looking so I just hurried away.

But then there it was again- where was I headed? Anywhere never really means anywhere, you know,   but it kind of did for me this afternoon.  I took a random turn on Via shoot I swore to myself I would remember the name of it where walked inside a little piece of perfection called Zadig and Voltaire.  And some hours later I walked out and decided it was for that brand I wanted to work. For that brand, I wanted to stay up late hours on my computer working on mood boards. For that brand, I wanted to spend the afternoon with everything spread out on my kitchen table and my fingers sore from holding scissors for too long. For that brand, I wanted to wake up that extra hour earlier to be sure the scans looked good before they were due.  I can't explain it, but something just clicked.  It was like all the designs, the colors, the attitude of the entire place were all stacked up in the middle with a sticky note that said "Art Direction for Zadig and Voltaire: the what Shan wants edition" 

So I don't know, whatever inspiration means these days, there was mine. Inspiration makes you feel like the moment is so magnificent and grand, like it's a landmark day in the history of your life and there's finally something to look at out the car windshield. Glad I was wearing a cute outfit for it. 

Tell me whatchu know about dreamin

Mushy gushy love grits and bacon and actually nothing that American at all

I don't even know what to say about Amalfi coast this weekend because it was that perfect. More perfect than any picture or any blog post can say and I wish more than anything that everyone in the world gets to go there someday.  It's like your head forgets work and school and everything that ever stressed you out or made you cry so that there's room in every part of your body to soak up all the beautiful and happy that ever existed in the world.  It's the early morning Caprese breakfasts on the water. The icy limoncello shots on the beach. The swimming through turquoise. The boating everywhere you need to go. The jumping off 40 foot cliffs like you think you can fly and wading in grottos in the middle of the ocean like you think you're a mermaid. It's making more new friends than you thought possible and toasting to the moment. It's the collapse in exhaustion under a late afternoon sun and the warm sun-soaked stones you mindlessly organize on your tanned stomach. It's the foreign accents you play with on the bus back and the hours of laughing with friends in showered hair and new sweatshirts until you fall asleep in your tiny tropical bungalow.

And now I'm back in Florence, 7 hours north and another kind of paradise. The kind that feels like a home, while being so far away from home. And where the best wifi in town connects me to the home I still miss so much, no matter how perfect this one gets.

And for the first time, what's past is past

C's the one that let's me know when new Taylor Swift songs come out, and I'm the one that listens to them 1300 (you like that) times within the hour she texted. 



So there's that for my own personal repetitive, obsessive, wait one more time listening pleasure.  And so when I'm feeling extra dramatic I can sing the chorus out loud to myself as many times as I want to. While I sit on my teensy twin bed and eat bowls of Cheerios with peaches.  Yes, multiple bowls, because the milk is so good here and the peaches so sweet and the Cheerios so familiar, and well, that's all you really want to eat when you find out he has a peach tree is his backyard, too. 

Livin On a Prayer

~another epic karaoke song experience~ 

Pisa and Lucca this weekend were fun/exhausting/cool. Things I got from it:

-see so much art I wouldn't get to see otherwise because one of our professors took us EVERYWHERE as we followed behind like little ducklings. This woman knows everything- early/high renaissance expert is an extreme understatement. She has her PhD from Yale! She knows so much about every little thing, she doesn't even stop to breathe.  It's mentally exhausting, but one of those things you just have to endure and appreciate, like that quote live as if you'll die today, learn as if you'll live forever.  Definitely learned enough for forever.

About humanity, too.  Some of the little anecdotes she told us about random Roman princesses reminded me so much of myself, I'd be like yea girl, I feel you, I'd steal the basket of bread from my dad's royal dinner party for me and my little brothers, too.  Coulda been a -Roman- princesssss. We're really all the same, 1520 or 2012, royal or not.

By 6 pm, the last church was closing but our professor just talked her way into it like, "mmm, no...no you're actually not going to close yet" while we all scooted in. I don't even think she got permission, she just kept talking to the custodian until we were all in and then he couldn't do anything about it. Haha poor guy. Then off we went to explore one more cathedral.

Sometimes I would just look at a crucifix and think I might die if I had to hear about why in this one, he's wearing clothes. He, sorry.  It's not like we went specifically to see all the religious stuff, it just happens to be that all the art in these ancient cities is religious.  It's just what people were inspired by back then. Religion was life, literally.  Someone must have started telling the bad people they'd go to this place called hell if they kept it up. It's a nice idea, really. Just wanting peace and love. Too bad politics got in the way of that one.

So anyway, I think it's important to see the human side of it all, not just the biblical side. But all in all, it was so worth it. I felt like we got a VIP tour of all the ancient treasures of these towns.  Our professor also treated us all to local St. Zita cake at the end of the day, which was heavenly. Ha, that might be a cute pun if I didn't use that word to describe every meal I eat here. 

Ok so that's mostly what I got from it.  Along with a really good reason to go out last night.  Which was being home finally, 14 hours later. Home! In Florence.

Convinced we belong here. 

The apartment they sell at Urban Outfitters

You know, the one with quilt comforters and the sassy post-it notes on the fridge? And you make tea out of a tin kettle on the stove in the mornings while you have dirty conversations with your co-ed roommates? For all the times I've wished for that apartment, I think I have it now, without having any of it. It's worth every penny it doesn't cost. Cupboards filled with mismatched pint glasses and all. Taken home from bars. Accidentally.

And the Manchester Sound roommate bought a guitar, so.

"She played her favorite game, figuring out about people."

-A Tree Grows in Brooklyn 

My Italian teacher giggles so much now that we got a boy in our class. I just smile and watch her like she's the cutest thing I've ever seen and sometimes I start laughing too. I like her so much and I've been trying to figure out why. I think it's because she reminds me of my mom. She's short and teeny and wears light pink shirts every day. She's very kind and patient with all of us, a bunch of twenty-something girls who just want to go have a glass of wine instead of trying to say "I am happy and tall" in some variation of Italian that sounds so bad she just makes this face and smiles, like oh god this is hopeless. I have a quiz tomorrow and she has the kind of voice that you can hear while you study. I know they say knowing one romance language helps you learn another, but I just want lungo to be longo and molto to be multo. So..idk maybe writing it in this post will make me remember. Thanks blog.

My fresco professor is Mario. Like I meant Super Mario, but yea his name is actually Mario too.  He's old and wheezy but not in a sick way, in an old Italian man way and you can't really understand him sometimes but he can say "you know what I mean?" in perfect English, and does, every so often between mumbles of Italian. This morning I asked him what an article from the newspaper was about because the picture was so scary, and he just looked at me and walked away. And then 15 minutes later he came back and told me a 20-year-old woman was raped, but he didn't know in English "how to tell a lady." They don't make him like him no more.

My painting professor reminds me so much of my one at UNC because they're both so American, their Levi's and midwest accents make you want to go home and watch Casablanca with your wife.  I don't have a wife but once I ran into my UNC painting professor at a thrift shop buying old romance movies on VHS, so I figured that's what he was going home to do. Anyway, they both teach the painting and drawing courses in a row so I was used to those same 6 hour afternoons before class even started.

Batik lady is just that. She's 65 with a relaxing, open-air, tropical studio tucked away off campus. She did her masters of a life-size VW bug she Batik'd, quilted and constructed with metal supports.  She showed us her photo album of when she completed it and when VW casually bought it from her, but I was more struck by this young, glowing beauty in a sixty's dress to die for smiling, so proud of what she had done than her actual masterpiece.  Age is so amazing.

My Illustration professor is a crazy college girl at heart. When she laughs you can tell she means it and then she keeps talking with the smile leftover from the laugh still on her face, so she always seems like she's having a great time. She tells us stories of when she went to work in NYC after she graduated college and it's so funny to hear the reverse experience of an Italian living in America.  It's like you flip a shirt inside out and put it on backwards so it's basically the same thing, but opposite. I don't know where that metaphor was going.  Maybe I'll illustrate it tomorrow.... But that's all for now, I just wanted to remember my professors before they grade me AHH

The good, the bad and the awkward

The good 
-The way our kitchen smells like butter at night when everyone's home making dinner.
-Discovering one of the roommate's band Manchester Sound. Dude can sing.
-New Gucci perfume. It's new and perfect and sexy and takes all of me not to spray myself down every morning and choke up the roommates.
-The restaurant we ate at in Cinque Terre. And the waiter who came over and whispered in my ear "you stole my heart."  You stole mine, Pablo. Or Paolo. Couldn't really understand you.
-"Daddy Knows Best" videos at the kitchen table. That's all.
-The boy roommate who always does the dishes without ever saying anything about it.  The girls in this apartment are usually too busy eating Nutella out of the jar anyways.

The bad 
-the seat design of public transportation. They curve over at the headrest so your head is being forced down to your chest as if they want you to have bad posture and be highly uncomfortable for the ride and I don't know if it's just me who feels like I'm in a torture chamber sitting in them but they're awful. Just awful.
-Our tiny washing machine that washes like 2 pairs of jeans at a time. Also, everyone has to unplug their laptop chargers for it to work. Oh, the quirks..
-Craving ice water like a crazy person but Italians don't believe in ice.

The awkward
-When everyone comes over to pregame and one of the boys breaks a full bottle of Smirnoff on the ground..
-Roommates flirting with roommates having crushes on other roommates. This is the Real World.
-Using a drawing pencil sharpener to sharpen an eyeliner pencil and later having slight suspicions you'll have lead in your eye forever and go blind and die.
-Wanting a normal sized coffee I can sip on, so trying to order a "caffe lungo" and ending up with a regular shot of espresso in a huge mug. What? ~Apparently ordering a whole cup of coffee is an American thing. In Europe you either get a shot of espresso or a frothy cappuccino.. neither deliver the satisfaction of a medium DD iced coffee.~
-Facetiming in the bathroom because it's the best connection in the apartment without being in the kitchen where everyone else usually is. *someone walks by* *sup*
-Not understanding how to purchase produce at the grocery store and having to leave the register mid-checkout to go figure out how to weigh your bananas to get a sticker with a bar code. Yes, everything is written in Italian. Yes, there are 26 people in line behind you waiting.

Call it what you want, honeymoon's over. This is life in Firenze.

"Art is not an intention, good work is an intention. Art happens when you're lucky."

I love it here [at SACI] and not just for my painting class in the garden or for my late afternoons at the Fuji studio, but I think mostly for the people. It's like everyone here wants the same thing. Not to make art but to find art in what we make. Not to travel, but to explore. To learn other people's passions and be inspired and share this love of life we all have. Being from a liberal arts school, I never got to experience this aspect of "art school." It's such a community.  The people around you are like you without being anything like you.

And that doesn't even just translate to appreciating the David or complaining about expensive supplies. We go out together, we tell locations of hidden grocery stores that sell American brands, we make friends with store owners, we separate at times and find our own adventures but only to commune again to share stories of favorite bartenders or married Canadians or wonder about the missing kid no one's heard from since last night.  It's never the place, it's the people. 

We just finished our first full week of classes and this cool, sunny Friday afternoon has all our windows opened with a breeze dancing through the apartment........

I decided that since this post is already drowning in cheesiness, I'd add that last little part in. Basically, I like my classmates, and I'm high on Friday Happiness. That's not a drug, but it should be. 

Ciao for now, you happy little weekenders. 

Tuesday on a Friday

This was supposed to post on Tuesday but didn't and now I don't know what to do with it. So if you wanted to know about my Tuesday........ 

C and I used to joke about Tuesday being Taylor Swift's favorite day and so naturally it was ours too.  Because of typical Tuesday nights? Or was it the Tuesday that you caught my eye.... Tuesday's must just be like the go-to day to talk about something normal. And here I am on a Tuesday, about to tell you that today was normal.  The kind where you wake up and go to all your classes and do everything you needed to do in between.  And then you get home and realize how hungry and fully exhausted and sleep-deprived you are and you feel grimy from your day and you're kind of mad about it because you just took a shower the night before but you're too hungry to take one now. So I just made some kebab I got from the market and cut up a tomato with mozzarella on the side, then I took a shower. So I'm good now, and I'm remembering again why Tuesdays are so good. And normal.  

Amicizia con gli Italiani

In one day, I learned more Italian than I have Spanish in 5 years.  Gratzie, Francesco, Paolo e Joey, ho riso più con voi tutti giorno. Ok that's all really haha. Sandwiches and Italian beer in the square led to caffe shakeratos on the Palazzie Michelangelo overlooking Florence. Then we were shoe shopping in the city "qualsiasi cosa per la principessa" with plans for pizza with friends. Then "In Italia, abiamo aperitivos first pizza" to which you say ...Ok! And then we're drinking orange cocktails by the duomo. We all go home "ci prepariamo" then meet for the most wonderful pizza I've ever had and before we know it it's 5 a.m. and we're all best friends.

How does that happen? I can't explain it- I wouldn't be able to anyways, we barely spoke a complete sentence the whole time. After a while, you're so confused trying to explain, you just give up. But laughing? Laughing we could understand. We laughed about everything.

Strangers are a funny thing, because they could actually be very dangerous. Or they could actually be very much like you. Especially if they're from halfway across the world and have never left Italy in their lives. It's a risk, and you have to be smart. But if I've learned anything about this short life, it's the risks that are always worth it.

Miei nuovi amici Italiani

Church

I have to write really quick about going into this church, because it was one of the most moving experiences of my life. We were hanging out at this palazzo one night, not doing too much and all of a sudden one of the guys tells us to follow them. Apparently these churches only open for certain periods of time certain days of the week, so if you want to see it you have to go when it's open and we just happened to be sitting there when it opened (and dressed appropriately).  And this church isn't even a main attraction or a touristy spot, it's just like a church in the city. But oh, my. I walked in, looked up and around and the goosebumps came. I started tearing up and tried really hard not to cry. It was just so grand and beautiful and powerful. I'm not even really religious but I really knew God was in there because it was just so overwhelming.  So I just wanted to say that I know these churches here are a big deal, but I guess I never really got it.

Party in the USA

If there's one thing American students studying abroad should sing to a bar of drunk Italians and Australians, it's Miley Cyrus karaoke.

I am so tired and hot laying on my bed and my laptop is making my thighs sweat but I am too tired to turn the fan on. I'm finally at ground level with everything that I needed to do this weekend but not without the feeling like all my muscles are melting inside my body.  So much walking and drinking all day here that it's like going to Disney World every day except to get home, you don't get to fall asleep on the air conditioned bus ride on the way, you have to walk.

Thursday night I had my wallet snatched out of my purse and don't forget that when these kinds of things happen to me, it's always right after I go to the ATM and decide 200 euros, my American license and a debit card are probably all good things to take out with me.  But the next day we went to the bar at which I lost it to see if it was there and they hadn't opened yet but we ended up staying and talking to the English Italian bartender/manager for a while.  We told him when all our college games were so he can stream them live for us. He also said if I come in for breakfast on Sunday he will cook me an omelet! Sometimes telling strangers how much you love eggs is good to do.

Ok so there's this little cafe/bar in our neighborhood called Eby's and the owner is the real-live Einstein you've always wanted to meet. He has a perfect white mustache and stonewashed white hair that looks like you just rubbed it with a balloon and all we've ever heard him say is MANGA when he gives you a shot. He makes all these concoctions you have no idea what you're drinking but no idea what your life was before you tasted it. The roommates shot has become "the banana smiley face" where there are these banana slices he sprinkles with cinnamon and this blue powder then blow torches each one. You dip one side of a thick orange wedge in coffee grounds, the other side in sugar, coffee side down eat the orange, take the shot, eat a banana slice, chase with a shot of this alcoholic smoothie.  It's actually the most wonderful thing in the world.  And that it's just down the street- I'm seriously never leaving.

Something I've noticed here

No one is ever on their phones.  I only notice because it's so different from the US, where you walk down the street and everyone is looking down at their phones, but actually it's like how would I even know because I usually am too.  But here, it's like cell phones don't exist.  You see so many more faces this way.

Girl you know you're lost, lost in the thrill of it all

The European thing where people close up shop in the afternoon and just leave work to go home to eat/sleep/make love until 8 or so is real, and I love these 3 quiet hours I get to myself in the evenings.  I'll just pick up where I left off telling you about this place so far. I'll write about like 10 things to keep it short and sweet. Like hazelnut gelato.

1. Our front door. It's enormous and gorgeous and heavy and basically everything I ever wanted in a front door.

2. Our precious 3rd floor 3 bedroom 3 bath apartment with kitchen and sitting room right by the duomo.

3. Turning into Belle when opening the windows in our apartment because they're enormous and open like shutters and you actually have to thrust them open and lean out and wave at the people walking below on the street. There's also a Cinderella clothesline outside the kitchen window and a Snow White well in the foyer. It's fit for a princess and screams home and I'm considering moving in here for good.

4. Eat pizza yum dank delicious shit

5. Rep USA with the roommates (even though one's from Canada) in a beer pong tournament last night at this bar down the street. The boys played and we girls contributed celeb shots and a strong team image as the only blondes in the place.  They We made it to the semi-finals halla at your gente Americana.

6. See Jase face himself, too exciting for words, shag to house music because we're the only two people here that get it about Carolina.

7. Attend the garden party SACI had for us on the first day in the garden at the school. My school is cooler than yours. But really, it is.

8. See Pi Beta Phi t-shirt hung up on a wall in a bar, not sure for what but pretty sure it was one of those moments that you're speechless and you want to tell everyone around you like look guys look!! but no one else around you really cares too much.

9. Walk around the city for hours half lost out of our minds/half not caring.  I've started just singing "now you're lost..." to myself to pass the time until I stumble upon Via Bufalini.

10. The rooftop bar we found in the middle of the city called the Biblioteca. Because inside it's actually a library with books that you check out. We're gonna be smart bitches.

11. My new trendy polizia friends whose uniform pants are light blue skinnies.

That's 11. It's perfect here.

Ciao Ciao!

Is what I've been hearing all day. And also probably the most appropriate title for this first post abroad. So ciao ciao from Firenze!

The most exciting things I've done, which may or may not be exciting to you, and may or may not be everything I've done:

1. Land in Pisa because of a storm in Florence at the time we landed. Picture mobs of strangers and hot heat and 15 students who have no idea where they are or what they're doing trying to come to some understanding with the bus ticket man asking for a ride to Florence and not wanting to pay for it.  45 minutes and 5 euros each later we're on an hour and half bus ride into home base city.

2.

and now my 2 boy roommates just came in with out first bottle of Italian wine so
finish this later CIAO

Driftin'

Since classes started in Chapel Hill, all the days blend together.  Long days up in the lab that turn into the kind of Franklin nights only Carolina students understand. Bungalow mornings with a girl who's become more a sister than a best friend, hungover lunches with the sister who's more than a best friend, and all the boys we share our lives with in between. 

The past couple weeks I've felt so removed from campus knowing I'm leaving here for the semester, but I've also never felt so connected.  3 years, and it's like it's been 21.  Chapel Hill has a way of sweeping you off your feet freshman year and holding you tight every year after.  And while I'm karate chopping air in excitement every time I look at my passport, I already miss it here so much. Such a typical pre-departure post. 

Also, if these last weeks in Chapel Hill have been perfect, there was nothing like yesterday. 

I've got an iPhone background and little red pin to prove it.

I actually don't have the pin. For reasons too perfect to write on this blog.

 

 

west coast heart from youngandable on 8tracks Radio.

And I don't know why this one gets me, but it does

I wanna take you for a ride on a big jet plane

I'm much too wild to have anything but the life-proof case for my iPhone, but I still find myself browsing new cases as if one day I'm going to wake up careful and sensible and I'll never drop my phone again ever. But if you're good with your hands, maybe you can buy one of these cuties and I can be jealous that you look awesome while I look clumsy and lame.

For every single one of these and more, do what I do and type in "iphone cases" at Etsy.com. These are just some top pickz.

Atwood

For colorful you.

Voguecase

For hungry you.


For messy you.


For District 12 you.

Handmad Shop

For dancing you.

Crafic

For hipster you.

Lisa Russo 

For beach you.

Herrbonbon

For Thailand you.

Weird Old Snail 

For cold you.

Let's be the dreamers we are and pretend that last one comes with the 100 tucked in there.