Ramble on, Rose.

This weekend was a big one for me, personally.

Saturday I turned 26. While I love a good party and understand how much fun birthdays can be, I prefer to downplay my own. Let's be real, there's not much I did to get there.

I lied. I'm actually 116!

But it was a pleasant day: I woke up with no alarm to a sunny day, danced around the house with my parents' pups, and had a wonderful homemade dinner with my mom, dad, and grandparents. I even celebrated from afar as my favorite city Siena had their own celebration!

Sunday, however, I woke up real early and was out the door by 7. My lovely Mom, my cheerleader in all things, joined me off of Main Street to see me off on another crazy challenge: my first triathlon!

The Ramblin' Rose event, a triathlon for women only, tours North Carolina through the race season annually. The first leg is a 225 yard swim, or 10 laps in the pool at the local YWCA. The wait to get to the pool was brutal but I was glad to meet some other participants to take out some of the pre-race jitters. I didn't practice in a traditional length pool so wasn't too sure how fast I was going into it, but ended up at my target.

Next up is the 8 mile bike course, which consisted of 2 laps of 4 miles each. This part was easily the most challenging, not only because I didn't train on the bike (I had to borrow one and got it too late), but also because of the brutal hills, which from observation I can say were horrible for everyone. The worst part was knowing what was coming the second time around. Then, on the big ascent for the second time, my chain came off the gears. After a pit stop, I finished it off the monster calling to mind all the things I lived through that I would qualify as worse than cycling up that hill two times.

Downhills were nice, but they seemed to disappear far too quickly. Yet I couldn't help but laugh, whizzing down the hill at a break neck speed, that in the cemetery I already passed several times, there was a headstone for a person named "Self." Ignoring the fact that I nearly face planted my dismount, I moved into my final transition. 

Finally, there's the 2 mile run. My calves were fairly tight when I moved into this phase (think: jelly legs). Knowing I was nearly at then end, I did my best to enjoy the final leg. But the whole time, there were strangers on the path with me being encouraging who I could encourage too. Half the beauty of this race is the feeling of "You go, girl!" that is inherent to it.

With a few days perspective, I'm honestly very proud.

I got through it all. I swam, biked, and ran the whole distance. Not one bit of slacking the whole time. I walked away that day sure I had given it all that I had. While I know I could've trained better, you can't always be 100% prepared. I'm happy with my performance and have plenty of room to improve.

But the race was full of all kinds of people, not just the typical athlete type. Some women were real athletes and there to compete, but it was inspiring to see so many people be active and doing something different. I hope they use this race as a portal for regular fitness in their lives.

Yet it wasn't just shapes and sizes that varied. The oldest competitor was 77 (!!!) and the youngest was 10. I met, befriended, and cheered on one girl, turning 11 in November, who originally planned to race with her mom. She did the whole thing on her own!

I spent much of the race looking around and imagining myself changing and meeting my own goals, both fitness and not, as I move into my 30s, as a professional, as a partner, and even at 77.

Here's to another year full of uphills and down, pit stops, friends, goals, and accomplishments! Thanks for being along for the ride.

From Angel to...

As an undergraduate at Meredith Angel (with only things like women's rights to avenge), I completed my psychology thesis research in the identity development of young adults, or emerging adults, if you will. This term- now widely used among others like Generation Y, the Millenials- was coined by the researcher J.J. Arnett to define those between 18-25 who are finding-- no stumbling their way from their teenage years into adulthood. This is a period for the privileged middle and upper class of the world, mostly Westerners, to figure out if they are keeping those core values given from their parents or dropping them for any of the endless other choices. I always had a bit of a beef with the age definition because I know plenty of people who are still defining themselves throughout their 20s and into their 30s, and as I approach my 25th birthday (it's merely 2.5 months away) I can't imagine having enough figured enough out to be an adult.

Now, by this point, we all know that my 25 before 25 is not going to be finished. I've worked really hard on these goals, and even completed some big ones, so they'll be upgraded to a 30 before 30. No problem. But also, there are some changes as I continue to work on as I strive to work out some of the uncertainties about who I am and where I'm going both metaphorically and actually. In fact, a huge part of keeping up this blog has been to record and to announce my grand life changes, has it not?

So for a variety of reasons, my Fulbright year helped me realize that I don't want to get into academics. Was I a bit wishy-washy under that kind of freedom and an unclear vision? Sure. But partially I'd like some job mobility, and after some great years of uncertainty, I'm looking forward to any security life can afford. I don't see research or university life rendering these things for me. We may discuss the reasons why to all of these things, but let's just skip that for now and say we're all right. The world is crumbling. Society is changing for the better. Whatever, back to me. (It is my blog after all.)

In exploring the skills and the experiences I had acquired and whatever I could possibly do with them on somewhat my terms, a dear friend Allison suggested I look into consulting over a yummy autumn meal. From there I applied to two great business schools and decided on one as mentioned earlier. This time next year, I'll be graduating from Duke University's Fuqua Business School with a Master's in Management Studies. I'm learning business foundations in 10 months. Think of it like an MBA, Jr. for stinkers like me without the experience to get an MBA.

I'm awfully excited about it. I'm also a bit nervous. In a year (!!!), I'll already be a graduate. And let's be real: I never anything about business studies outside of my half semester of economics as a senior in high school (Many thanks, Mr. David Seidel!). Thankfully, Fuqua's MMS program has set me on a path of pre-program studying, learning how to use Excel's financial functions, calculating future values on investments and profit margins, and other stuff that might bore you to tears if you are one of my typical blog readers. You guys come for the European adventures, I know. I promise, I'll be back there... eventually.

But for now, I'm *surprise!* enjoying soaking in this new knowledge and discovering a foreign side of me. A side that can employ my data analysis skills and creative critical thinking in an unfamiliar atmosphere. Once again I feel like I can offer something to society. I find that I am not reinventing myself, but working on a foundation that's already been prepared with much effort. For some of you, this new career choice may seem like an about-face change, a rejection of who I was. Instead, I delightfully continue to be surprised by another facet to who I am and what I have to offer. What I do as a job simply does not define who I am.

If nothing else, it is a pleasant reminder that I should never be simply complacent, that I can always discover a better version of myself. Passion and opportunities are everywhere, if only we commit to making them our own.

Also, calm down all of you anti-Duke fans. I'm not going to play basketball. I wasn't dealt those cards.

Today is the day.

Today is July 30th.

Today is the day several months revolved around: the day I would leave Italy again.

I've blogged a lot about my life decisions, revelations, and changes here, so I figured why not add a few more? And so the story begins:

My Fulbright year could be defined in many ways, but as I reflected the most fitting word is "challenge," be it referring to both the stand taller with a puffed chest type and the "am-I-ever-going-to-get-through-this?" moments. There was challenge everywhere. Challenge in my work. Challenge in my personal life. Challenge in my path to know myself. Challenge in living on another continent. I realized, maybe later than some or just in a different way, that growing up is hard. There are lots of things to do, many more than could ever be done in one lifetime, and so with that comes priorities and hard life choices. And that became my biggest challenge.

Among the series of challenges I fell into or created for myself, I started to doubt the plans I had set. Who knows why, but it was like a slow developing bacteria. A serious talk with a friend, a family member, or an acquaintance now and then grew in number and emotion. Soon attacks came more frequently and were stronger. My resolve strengthened and imploded on itself so often that I started to doubt my whole person and that, above all, made me unhappy. The only thing I could gather was that something had to change. So I took off the cruise control and pulled off the road to look at the map. My route had to change.

So then in May I emailed the professor at Western Washington University and informed her that I would no longer be attending the Experimental Psychology program. It was one of the hardest decisions I've made to date because it meant saying goodbye to something I still found interest in, but just wasn't a priority. The fear of making the "wrong" decision filled me with anxiety because WWU was an atmosphere and a setting that I wanted, that I had worked towards. Alas, I had found in my reflection more of a desire to add to community planning or policy change than I did to grow within an academic environment. Some work here in Florence with a conference called Diversi. E Allora? (Different. So what?) really enlightened that area inside my consciousness.

After that, I realized that I had to get to work. I have student loans to pay, after all. Which brings us to another more humiliating thing to admit: after all of this time, my project still isn't done. I got lost in theory. I made my life harder. I stumbled over my ideas and got discouraged instead of cleaning them up. I wanted so much and then didn't know how to ask for help. I could skip out of town or buckle down and make things work. In reflection I realized how much I had learned reading and not, interviewing and not, writing and not. This time with some real help from Gabriele--the person who knows best how to give it to me straight... in the nicest way possible, I recognized how much of a shame to my experience and a general disappointment to myself it would be to not complete a project. Plus I would feel so much better citing things I had learned from a finished product at job interviews.

And so today is the day I didn't leave Italy again. At least for now.

And it begins...

To start my updates as an official Fulbrighter, I need to remind all of you that this site is not an official site of the U.S. Department of State and that everything expressed here are my own opinions and do not represent the Department of State or the Fulbright Program.

Now that I got that business, I'm here in Italy and doing well, despite some difficult bureaucratic issues getting here. And, might I add, those that I'm continuing to work through being here. The strange thing is not that I'm finally here, but how comfortable Italian life still feels. Part of me wonders if I'm ruined for life as an American because I am spending such "formative adult years" in another language and culture, but I'm willing to take that risk for whatever I'm going to learn in the meantime.

At the moment, I am living with my colleague, and now friend, Valentina. We spoke a few times in email and on Skype and she invited me to live in her home until I found my own place. Italian hospitality at it's finest. Valentina studies under the same professor as I will at the Universita' degli Studi di Firenze (UNIFI) and has very similar research interests. Sometimes when we talk, I feel like I am with a version of myself from an alternate universe. She's almost me, just Italian. But joking aside, I can't imagine how much better my life is and how much easier my transition is thanks to Valentina and her family. I can't imagine how I could ever repay them, other than a trip to Wilmington and the Dawson's Creek sites.

Last weekend we went to a free concert in a nearby town. The square was packed but somehow we ended up directly in front of the stage. I really got into the music and the singer, Paola Turci, is apparently pretty famous. She sang half an 80s song in English and then I heard this song which sounds exactly like this one, which I knew. Apparently it's a cover, but the translation isn't that similar. Plus, the song is Paola's claim to fame. Interesting, no?

Yesterday, we came into the city to get some work done in the dipartimento, but we found the locked doors like this:

One of the political parties had a big old-fashioned sciopero, or strike. Getting home was even difficult because most of the trains were cancelled and those that were going were late and crowded. Sadly, we stood as merely victims to the strike.

But finally today I was able to do some work today and it feels so nice to be busy again. It's a little difficult getting back into the swing of it (especially in a different language), but I just love studying psychology. I know I'm a nerd, but there's just nothing like it. I was just so excited I forgot to eat lunch. Suffering the consequences now (because in Italy you can't just eat whenever you feel like it), but I'll live.

I'm late to the party...

but happy new year, y'all! Hahaha! Despite the fact that we're almost two weeks into 2011, there are still 50 left, so in perspective, I'm still at the beginning of it. I'm getting older, quicker and the days are moving faster than I can note, but I feel like this is especially true of 2010. I waited a long time for 2010 and now it's already gone, but a lot happened in those measly 12 months. To sum it up, I decided to use some of my favorite pictures from the year month by month.

 Now what? I've got a lot to think about and to work on in 2011, so here are some goals:

• Learn to speak Spanish (somewhat).
• Find a job (or jobs) where I work at least 30 hours a week.
• Hand make 3 things I am proud of. (Maybe you can teach me to do something cool like this, Kellie?)
• Handwrite a letter a week.
• Paint and decorate my room.
• Set aside time to write short stories.
• Take the GRE again and apply to 5 graduate programs.
• Inventory, organize, and cut down all of my belongings to fit in my room following The Cult of Less.
• Achieve my healthy size finally (almost there!) ... and stay there.
• Move.
• Start a book of my favorite (read: edible) recipes.
• Visit a new state. (I'll choose Colorado if you'll take me on one of these, Marie!)
• Run in a 5k. (Wanna run one together Lauren?)
• Check my car's tire pressure and oil on the first of every month.
• Volunteer regularly.
• Have more fun than I had in 2010....

Words of Wisdom

Back at the beginning of September I wrote a post about defining success and two of my favorite poems. Just recently two of my very best friends Jenn and Sheryl graduated from Meredith College and the last two weekends I couldn't be prouder to have had the great opportunity to celebrate their achievements. I was asked to give a speech at Sheryl's graduation party and at my mother's request, I'm posting it here for all of you. When putting to pen to paper, I come to a lot of personal realizations. You'll recognize the poem, but bear with me reusing material (it's really powerful, though), and enjoy my ever developing conclusions!

First and foremost, congratulations Sheryl on completing college and doing so with such growth and achievement. I hope you recognize what you have done for yourself and take this period to be really proud. That was the hardest thing for me to do just seven months ago and one of the few regrets from my own college experience. So enjoy this time because both you and now I know there are greater struggles in your near future than even those you dealt with as a Meredith student.

And so, upon reflecting, I decided to speak about just that – recognizing success. I’ve spent much of my young life pursuing “success” and along the way have asked so many people I consider successful to provide me with their memoirs and road maps so I could get there, too. Now most of you know, but for those of you who don’t, let’s just say I don’t feel like I’ve quite achieved it all yet. So when considering what to share with you, Sheryl, I don’t think I have much authority to say a lot yet. But because I wanted to talk about success quite badly, instead I resolved to distribute the golden nuggets I caught from others along the way. They’ve been useful thus far and figured they couldn’t hurt you either.

So to begin as far back as I can remember, Mrs. Spach, my second grade teacher taught me that I didn’t need to cry about everything and that I could deal with some things on my own. Clearly, I’m still working on some of these things, but she was the first person to tell me that I could make things happen.

Later at the end of the most awful seventh grade ever recorded, Mr. Becker reminded me that some offenses just need to be put to rest so we can revel in the good times.

In high school, the former French military man turned teacher Mr. Tourret directed the student government and I was secretary. One day, taking a break from revolutionizing the school governing system, he told me that there were three types of people in the world. The vast majority were those who transported pianos. Then there were those who played the piano. He told me that I should always try to be in the very small elite group – those who appreciate the music. While I know what he was saying, I think it’s very French. I have since come to believe it’s important to have the muscles to move the piano and the know-how to play because that’s what makes listening to the tune even sweeter.

Then P.T.A. at lovely old Bishop McGuinness brought in Australian life coach Matthew Kelley. Although his book was poorly written, he said something that changed my life and became one of my personal mantras: Be the best version of yourself. In every area of your life – whether that be your career, romantic, friendship, or family relationships, your health, spirituality, or whatever – we should surround ourselves with people, ideas, and practices that make us a better.

Going off to college, my parents reminded me of the same phrases I had always heard from them. Mom said, “Just do your best. And when you do it, you should walk away from every situation satisfied because you know there’s nothing else you can do.” Dad, on the other hand, told me, “Make friends with the custodians, guards, and lunch ladies because they’re the ones with the real power. And make conversation with the elderly because they have the real wisdom.” Words to live by.

At Meredith, my advisor, sweet Dr. O’Dekirk never said anything in particular, but he did have an open door and chair just my size whenever I needed it. That, for me, spoke louder than most others’ words.

My two Italian professors, first Max at Meredith, then Rita during my semester in Siena told me to seek out adventure and trust my heart. But they both warned me to keep my heart open because sometimes what you thought you always wanted will be different at decision time.

Jeff, the ex-pat from Boston, taught me my favorite Italian phrase: “La vita si rinnova,” or “Life renews itself.” Because there are times, he shared, that success is just waking up in the morning.

In a similar strain, is the definition of success I learned from my best friend and college roommate Abbey. Being there through it all, she gave me plenty of hugs and matter of factly informed me, “Move on to the next thing.” Surely, if success couldn’t be found just where I was, it couldn’t be far away…as long as I kept moving forward.

So although I set out to explicitly define success for myself some time ago, I still rely heavily on the sound bites and memories I’ve collected from those I love and who I am lucky enough to be loved by. Yet the closest I ever came to my own definition brings me to my Meredith onyx and my favorite poem…s.

Many recognize the poem “Success” attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson which starts “To laugh often and much” and proceeds to list great things (in every sense of greatness) until the final line and inscription in my onyx: “This is to have succeeded.” But in the name of womanhood, I would like to read the original written by Bessie Stanley. And, Sheryl, as you listen today, call to mind those successes you’ve had and prepare yourself for those in your future.

Success

He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much;

Who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men, and the love of little children;

Who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;

Who has left the world better than he found it whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul;

Who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty or failed to express it;

Who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had;

Whose life was an inspiration;

Whose memory a benediction.

 Once again, congratulations Sheryl and good luck on your future successes. 

I've been demoted.

Demoted to middle school - and I love it! Well, it's only been two days, but I'm all about this new part-time job. I watch a group of kids from two local middle schools until their parents or guardians can pick them up. And by stating that I "watch" these kids, I mean hang out. Yesterday I was schooled in how to complete the Rubik's cube in 2 minutes barely trying by M. And then today I earned bruises and broken blood vessels playing volleyball for the first time in 5.5 years with A.

It might be a little early to say, but I think this is the easiest job I've ever had. I won't lie to you, I was pretty nervous when I first accepted the job. To use the simplest euphemism I could imagine, my middle school years weren't my favorite. I don't think they were anyone's best years unless you are my friend Molly Hart. Gosh, that lady's thebomb.com and basically the coolest in general (Proof: She works for NPR). Anyway, I had a little chat with her because she's a Middle Schooler Whisperer. During our talk Molly gave me some advice on how to deal with them that made me realize there's not too much of a difference between the middle schoolers and me. We're in between. We want to be "adults"...whatever that means. We feel misunderstood and want someone to care. And at the end of the day we just want to have fun.

So I see this employment being a good one and have introduced a new label in anticipation: middle school madness. And although it's only 2 or 3 hours a day, it's an income of sorts... which works now that I have a new car! Dad sold me his 2009 Toyota Corolla "with all the bells and whistles" as he says.

Glamor shot from tuningnews.net

We're feeling each other out, so, no, he doesn't have a name yet. But I did want to introduce him because it's SO EXCITING! I mean, as long as I don't think about the payments I'm making. So much for that "adult" thing.

They say when it rains, it pours...

If that's the case, I'm in the middle of a quarter-life monsoon. Things are adding up and, in contrast with my last post, it's getting difficult to just be and to stay positive about everything. Yes, I'm unemployed, which is a doozy, but then there's more.

The most recent tragedy issue of my life that caused me to have a break down I'm trying to deal with responsibly is a car wreck. My poor Sonny! It seems that it just won't be worth the investment to repair him which feels like I'm mourning the loss of a friend. And as a result, I've been car shopping (which is just a big pain) and generally trying to decide what the best move is to make. There are plenty of questions to mull over: What if I get a job and move to a city where there's no need for a car? What if I get the Fulbright and am back in Italy in a few months? Super inconvenient timing to be dealing with this stuff, but I'm told that's what you find under the definition of "life" in the Dictionary of Hard Knocks.

And then there's other issues of my luck: I found a great 2008 car with good gas economy, low mileage, and awesome crash ratings at a decent price. It even had satellite radio, auxiliary for your iPod, and some thing so you could sync up your phone contacts...but it didn't have cruise control! Sorry, Mr. Sleazy Salesman, but I won't be going backwards in time.

And as if I didn't have enough inquiry and uncertainty, there are all kinds of personal questions floating around: What can I do to make my situation better? How can I behave to be sure that I stand by my ideals? Am I even growing up? I feel a bit out of control here which occasionally leads to spouts of hopelessness. People are growing and doing things and I feel stuck in the mud. I know this state is temporary, but this transition from where I was to where I'm going is far from easy. Like I said, I never expected it all to fall into place, but...something?...anything?!?

With my luck, it'll all come too quickly and I won't know what to do. Typical. But for now I've adopted a new - hopefully temporary - perspective which I like to call "positive pessimism." And the meaning? Expect everything to go wrong (because it will)...and then just stay positive anyway. It's my umbrella in these stormy conditions. To clear skies and better news - CHEERS!

I'm back in the United States for one week. Unfortunately there's not much to report. I've been doing a lot of organizing, cooking, watching decent television, and applying for jobs. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat again.

Mostly I've gotten used to moving back and forth between Italian and American cultures. But there are things that I certainly miss about living in Italy. The first thing is the walking. Or just general accessibility to other places. I'm going tomorrow to get my car which has been stored while I was away. I've driven a bit, but I hate that I can't just walk 10 minutes to the grocery store or just to look at my favorite windows.

Which brings me to numero due: window shopping. I barely spent money on non-edible items or "experiences." It's part of my travel philosophy, but then it's also just a practical case. You can't go with one suitcase and accumulate too much. Still I loved to waste time just walking around and looking at the windows. Normally you don't go into a store in Italy unless you have the intention to buy, so the merchants spend considerable time putting those windows together as bait. Just stunning.

And while I could go on about lots of things, what I notice, but don't necessarily miss, is the anxiety of speaking with strangers. Most of the time I like to talk to people I don't know just to be friendly. I get it from my momma. Or maybe I'm kind of Southern. Either way, I find talking to O.P.s, or "other people," to be a neat way to meet different kinds of people and learn things I never would have known before that conversation. The thing is that talking with O.P.s is infinitely more difficult when you have to speak your second language. What if you don't know a word? How about if you can't understand something? These are feelings you get used to with time and lots of practice, but I like being able to make jokes and to lead conversations sometimes.

I miss some parts of living in Italy, but I could get used to this.

Lessons Learned 3.0

When asked how I'd like to spend my final moments in Rome, I'll admire art.

I should always prepare for my trip to and from Italy to be at least 5 hours longer than expected. 

While traveling I should be as padded as a linebacker. Too many bruises.

No matter how old you are, you can always run into Momma Bear's arms.

A brother is the best friends a girl can have. Best friends are the sisters she never got.

I can live at home (at least for now) happily unemployed.

“There's nothing half so pleasant as coming home again.” --Margaret Elizabeth Sangster

Homeward bound

This entry will be the shortest I will probably ever write:

I'M COMING HOME!!!!!

Sure I'm a little sad to be leaving my friends and Italy. But I miss my family and friends back home. And I'm ready for some new adventures. So stay posted for those from the domestic side of the Atlantic.

Until next time!

Too much excitement

There's a point in every world-traveler's experience in which she feels too far from home. After all this time in Siena, I've always known that life went along as per usual with the natural ups and downs. I know this fact because I've had them for my own, but it's difficult to remember they go on at home, too. This weekend my little brother Jason (who, in fact, is not so little but a young man in his own right) was pretty sick. Hospital sick. I'm happy to report that he is back to his quite silly self, but I spent plenty of hours in "big sister mode."

My parents and grandparents kept me as informed as possible and reassured me of his general well-being. I appreciate the network and trust their information, but there was nothing that could stop me from having Jay in the back of my mind. At every moment. It didn't matter that I spent a wonderful day in Florence examining the most beautiful art. I couldn't care less about engaging myself at a dinner with Italians. I had no will to celebrate receiving Fulbright recommendations (and therefore nearly finishing my application) or to bask in the glory of surviving my first Nordic walk. I went on with these activities because I was ensured Jason was okay and because I've learned that is what I have to do to live my life: I keep moving forward.

The most interesting realization made during this time was knowing that I still have a desire to move on and away. Whether I'm here in Italy or anywhere else, I am trying to make a life for myself and haven't finished exploring quite yet. Heck, I've just started! My family and I are getting used to this fact and we're all learning how to communicate despite the distance. I'm quite so thankful to them and all my wonderful support system for bearing with me as I bounce around.

And speaking of bouncing around, I'd like to inform you all that I'm officially moving back to the States. That's right, I'm coming home. At least for a while. I'm very happy with the decision if I'm to be honest with you. I feel like I've found everything that I came here looking for plus so much more. As you know, I didn't have many plans about when I was returning or what I was doing here, but hoped I would know the "right time." I think I've found it.

Please don't be mistaken, the life I lived here was real. I imagine sometimes it's silly to hear some of my stories because, as my best friend Alexa says, I live "so cinematically," but rest assured that living here was hard sometimes. I faced some of the same challenges I would have had in America in addition to so many that you maybe couldn't fathom. I'll have you know that I will definitely appreciate some of America's "simple tasks" I took for granted. But then these past two and a half months were also filled with an abundance of great things. I've started learning how to live out of an academic pattern and how to get wherever I want to be. I'm not exactly sure what's up next for me, but I'll keep you posted as the adventures continue to unfold.

Revelations According to Me

As promised, I'm writing a post to give you an official update on my life as it is now. I feel like I've settled into a new temporary routine. I'm acting as a substitue for my friend Anya who is traveling in the States, so I spend my mornings at a preschool playing with Italian babies for a few hours. It's interesting how much I've learned there. I'm definitely getting some practice of the imperative tense and have been learning some really fun songs like the one about the round, round watermelon that wanted to be the best in the world and the Italian version of "Ring Around the Rosie."

I've also started hanging out with two lovely ragazze. Violeta is 10 and she's a power house. She knows what she likes and is, as we say in the South, smart as a whip. Gaia, age 7, is a sweet girl. After our first meeting I was a bit nervous about what she'd think of me, but held on to me tightly wherever we went on Friday. She also learned the word "puppy" on Friday. Success. They fall into their birth order dynamics pretty nicely which reminds me quite a bit of Jason and myself. Too fun!

But I have made some revelations lately that I'd like to share with you:

The first is that I'm alone. Now, I could use the euphimism and tell you that I'm living on my own, but I don't think that phrase is sufficient to describe how I feel. Sure I have friends here. Whether I be sick or sad, they have shown over these past weeks more patience and kindness than I could express in words. I feel like I've won the lottery when it comes to them. Still it's difficult to live so far from majority of my network. At times I feel very solitary and, let me tell you, that's a pretty scary thing.

The positive side here is that I feel like I'm learning more and better in this way. I'm finding my own limits, strengths, and weaknesses. Surely this information will be crucial knowledge no matter where or with whom I live. I'm also discovering my own opinions. I've never really been one to hide my opinions when I've had them, but believe it or not, sometimes I just can't make up my mind. I used to say that in these moments I could develop my thoughts after hearing what others had to say first. But as I begin to grasp my own priorities and the process for making decisions, I almost find it refreshing to be alone.

Strangely enough, the second realization I've made is how WONDERFUL the people I have in my life are. No matter where in the world I am, you show me all kinds of support in any manner of ways. I have heard from you when I needed it most and have felt your presence throughout the joyful and trying times. Sure, communication is different these days. It's not so easy to pick up a phone and call someone when you don't even live in the same country code. And if I usually talked to someone twice a week because I would run into them while walking across campus, I realize I wouldn't be doing that now regardless. Despite these differences, I know you're there. And thank goodness for technology! You can say what you like about the evil of technology but Skype is a god-sent. Hallelujah and amen. A very special thank you to Aunt Carol and Uncle Joe: you guys are awesome! And an honest message about what I think of YOU straight from the words of a legend just to say thanks.

In these days I have some important decisions to make which brings us to my final revelation. I've spent countless hours (recently and just generally in my 22 years) fretting over decisions of all kinds. Each one feels like it's the end of the world, despite my recognition that my life will go on no matter what I choose. I've decided to put an end to the fretting--or as much as someone who has nurtured worrying can. I'm never going to know what's "right." I might know 10 years from now that I made a good decision, but then again I might never know. What I do know is that I will make the best decisions for me when I need to in that very moment. Fretting is wasting all kinds of energy and time that I no longer choose to waste. In the words of my wise and beautiful mother, "it's just not worth it." So enough is enough. And that's plenty enough.

This is to have succeeded.

This poem is my very favorite. It describes a definition that I actively struggle to compose for myself. First is the popular form attributed to Emerson, followed by the original which was confirmed to be written by Bessie Stanley. Lines from both resonate heavily with me, especially now as I find myself in the center of the boxing ring with Expectations. She's a quite the opponent, but I'm making the best of the match. Maybe we'll end up friends at the end of it all.

Success
To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty; 
to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Success
He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much;
who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children;
who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
who has left the world better than he found it whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul;
who has never lacked appreciation of Earth's beauty or failed to express it;
who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had;
whose life was an inspiration;
whose memory a benediction. 

Bessie Stanley

Hello and Goodbye

These past few days have been full of hellos and goodbyes. I said, "Sayanara" to Filippo and Anya, who each went on vacations to in opposite directions, a bit over a week ago and those departures started the cycle. The first hello is to one of my new favorite spaces in the city to which Lucia and Elizabeth introduced me. And the make a great coffee creme, right ladies? Here are a few shots from il balcone nel Piazza del Campo.
 

Try telling me this isn't the most beautiful cities in the world. I won't believe you.

Another hello goes to American dinner in Italy and new friends. Elizabeth and I hosted a great feast for some of her Italian friends, but since we didn't want to risk a culinary embarrassment, these guys suggested we try something "American." And, let me ask you, fine reader, do you know anything more American than chili cheese dogs and fries? Guys, if you're reading this and would like to give some honest feedback it's welcomed, but I'm guessing that the 2 rounds of hot dogs and empty pot of homemade chili says we did pretty well. How do they look to you?

It's really me. Making chili. Thanks for the recipe, Filippo! :)

It was their first chili cheese dog. Excuse them for putting the cheese on first.

They wanted to submit it, but this meal's got nothing on one of these!

Goodbye to some fine shoes that I've loved very much. These sandals were all I wore the first time I came to Siena two years ago and I've been on some fun adventures in my trusty Chuck Taylors. You will be missed terribly. But a warm welcome to my snazzy new All-Stars. A bit more stream-lined, but they're wearing in nicely. The extra support is great for all the walking I've been doing lately. Also, you'll notice they look very similar. World traveler tip: pack as light as possible with things that you love and work well with everything. :)

Because I refuse to say goodbye to this gem, a cheery "See ya' later" to my lovely Elizabeth. Siena's not the same without your "effervescent" self, but she'll see you in May. In bocca al lupo in Minnesota! You're gonna kick some butt in grad school and return a smarter and wiser.

Buon tornata to Scottie! I met her for about 20 minutes a year ago and she was kind enough to sit through an interview for my Italian presentation for Celebrating Student Achievement, but we've been getting to know each other. She lives in the apartment, too, and just came back from an awesome trip to Korea. She's on her way to catch up with Filippo so I have just a few more days of the place to myself.

With pleasure, I watch cooking-dependency's departure. There's a joke in my family that starts something like, "Did you hear about the time Sam tried to make a salad?" (Don't even ask.) Aside from monetary dependency--which I have to the controlled to the smallest extent I can as an unemployed student, I am most clueless when it comes to the kitchen. I get overwhelmed with anxiety just thinking about walking into a kitchen for anything other than eating, but since I'm determined to learn...you've gotta read about it. I'd say sorry, but I'm celebrating! I'm trying to remember, but thinking back, the pictures below may be records of the first meal I bought and prepared myself with absolutely no supervision. It tasted pretty good and doesn't look too bad either, right?

 

Goodbyes and hellos are funny things. Either can be much anticipated, exciting, difficult, stressful, overwhelming, and so on...but I've realized we can always decide what to do with those feelings in how we act. An intriguing part of these past days has been being the constant. Not often do I find myself resting while everything else around me seems to be moving at super sonic speeds. Honestly, it might be more exhausting.

Today I found myself feeling homesick for important people in my life, which rarely ever happens when I'm in Siena and completely occupied with the glories of living here. After passing the morning and part of the afternoon of moping, I was lucky enough to have a talk with Scottie who made me realize some things. The most important being that I have the power to choose how to respond to the changes that are happening around me. Now, this isn't a new revelation, but it sincerely needed to be reconfirmed. So, readers, I promise to (re)commit myself to experiencing my emotions, but actively deciding to respond in the most positive way I can. And I'm sure that has some benefits for you, too.