I'm not even motivated enough to think of a title for this, let alone study for finals. Which is why I am writing this in the first place: procrastination :)

Soooo...

I will be home in FIVE (!) days. Five is a good number. First, it is a prime number, but the multiplication tables were always the easiest to remember (besides zero, one, and two, but those don't count...they're not real number like five is). Second, one of the numbers in my birthday (which you should all know is a week from Wednesday...yay 21!!!) is five. Third...well, that's actually all I have right now. But five is still a good number even though I don't have a lot of reasons why.

As I am writing this, Leslie (my roommate) is packing and the two of us are having a sing-a-long party. It's good bonding time. And it's exciting to be packing!

Let me get to the point here: I had a great weekend. I went out to Friends' Pub on Thursday with my Rutgers girls and it was so funnnn. We laughed a lot. Then on Friday I wrote a huge research paper for Jodie...blech. That wasn't part of the greatness of the weekend (although what is great is that I handed that paper in today! Yay! Freedom...well kind of...just one more paper and four (!) exams...so close...). Anyways, Saturday was great again. We went to Impruneta to see how olive oil is made. I drove up there with Jodie's Italian husband Sergio and we went to a smaller, more oldschool oil mill first and tried some of the oil and it was life-changing. Then we met up with the group and went to another oil mill. We saw the whole olive oil making process.

I need to just stop for a minute and explain what olive oil is in Italy, especially Tuscany. Olive oil is a food group. It is not something you cook with, it is a food. You don't sauté vegetables in it, you steam the vegetables and the pour olive oil on top. Salad = lettuce with olive oil and (occasionally some salt) on top. You pour olive oil on top of your fish, your chicken, everything. You pour it into your soup before you put grated cheese on top and eat it. You dip bread in it. It is literally a food group. And if you have ever had good Tuscan olive oil, you know why. It is the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. Olive oil will forevermore be a staple in my diet. I can't live without it.

So after the olive oil thing I came home and worked on my paper some more. Not fun. But we've already discussed that. Sunday was a day of running errands and relaxing. At 5:00, Gail had us over to her house to meet her family and have appertivos. It was so good. I love Gail.

And now it is Monday and my crazy paper is turned in and I am five days away from being home. I am currently in the midst of totally procrastinating studying for finals. Leslie and I are listening to Salt-N-Pepa. So good. Much better than studying for finals.

I need to go have a dance party. I might write again before I go. Probably not. I will write once I get home though and tell you how the adjustments are going...it's going to be unbelievably strange to be home after this. But so good. I can't wait. I will be at Hope for five days before I go home and I CAN'T WAIT to see everyone! My birthday is on Wednesday so everyone can plan on coming to stein night with me and CELEBRATING!!!! Yessss. It's going to be fabulous in all ways.

Love to you alllll!!!!

Ciao! <3

More lists. I'm like an OCD person. hahahahahaa

Top 10 Things...

I am most excited about coming home to:

1. Carpet. I'm still upset about this. Clearly.

2. The Gathering.

3. My leopard print snuggie. Soooo warm and cozy.

4. My lunatic dogs.

5. Taco Bell.

6. Driving. Good grief it's been too long. I may have forgotten how to drive.

7. Momma. Duh.

8. Daddy. Of course.

9. Con. Obviously.

10. My wonderful boyfriend. Naturally.

I am least excited about leaving behind:

1. Food. Good, delicious, savory, amazing Italian food. 

2. My Italian momma, Anna. I love her lotsss.

3. Friends Pub, and everyone in it.

4. The art. Oh boy, will I miss the art. It's gonna rough...from Florence to Charlevoix. Good grief.

5. The Italian language. Non voglio parlare altre lingue. Italiano si sente come cantare. E' troppo bello per non parlare sempre.

6. Nonna. What will I do without an old woman calling me beautiful everyday?

7. Wine wine wine. Good, cheap wine is hard to find at home. This is going to be difficult.

8. Olive oil. I wish you all could taste it. Really. It's orgasmic. 

9. Jodie, the best program momma ever.

10. The city of Florence. Everything about it. 

11. (I couldn't stop at 10...) These people. I love all of them. Too much. Uh oh.

The happiest Thanksgiving ever.

Thanksgiving.

In Italian, il giorno de ringratziamento. A day for giving thanks. A day to eat. A day to remember how blessed you are.

Boy am I blessed. I think I am going to drop the sarcastic sassy-ness for this blog. I want you all to know how blessed I am. Thanksgiving this year was truly the best Thanksgiving I've ever had. I want to tell you all about it. Hopefully it will give you some of the same joy it gave me.

While I have loved being Italy for more reasons than I can name, I have missed my family more than I ever thought was possible. As many of you know, I have an aunt who is at home with breast cancer. I also have a hockey-playing uncle who had a serious spinal injury recently. For someone who is as close to their family as I am, it is incredibly hard to be here while all that is happening at home. And I thought that Thanksgiving would be the worst day of the trip when it came to being homesick. It's a day when you're supposed to be at home, with family, being lazy, eating, and watching football. Well, I thought was going to be one for five with that list. I was going to eat. That was about it. I wasn't going to be at home, I wasn't going to be with family, I had class from 9-3 so I couldn't be lazy, and football (the American kind at least) doesn't exist here.

But when it was all said and done, my Italian Thanksgiving surprised me by putting me at three and a half for five, two and half things more than I thought I would have. I'm so excited to tell you about all of this happiness!

So, it started when our absolutely outstanding and amazing program director, Jodie, decided that we should have a Thanksgiving dinner. One thing led to another and before we knew it, we were all inviting our host families to a Thanksgiving celebration. We were also planning to make pies for dessert. Jodie hired someone to make the turkey and all the food but the students were responsible for the pies. So pies we made (except for Leslie and I because I was down and out with an upper respiratory infection (yuck!) and Jodie thought it would be best if the very ill and probably contagious girl didn't make food for everyone to eat...probably a good choice). So anyways, after the decision that we would have a Thanksgiving celebration was made,  I felt a little better about not being home. Emphasis on "a little."

When the day rolled around, I was unexplainably super duper really extra excited. I was just stoked on the whole dinner thing and excited to meet everyone's host family. I must have subconsciously known that it was going to be the best day ever.

I will start my description of the night by saying that dinner was unbelievably delicious. For an Italian chef who doesn't make turkeys very often, this guy did a fantastic job. It was moist and flavorful and HUGE. Before they carved it they brought it out and set it on a table in the middle of the room, and it almost took up the whole room. Okay, not really, but it was ridiculously big. And we had mashed potatoes (one of my favorite foods ever), peas and carrots, cranberry sauce, and CORN ON THE COB! It was so so so yummy. And the people in my program are pretty good pastry chefs if their pies are any kind of indicator. But better than the food was the company. I sat with Leslie (my roommate) and Anna (my host mom (!) who is in the picture with me and Leslie) and Amy and Madeline (very good friends) and Carmen (Amy and Madeline's host mom). We talked and laughed and had great conversations in Italian. It was amazing to meet all the host families and have everyone together in one room. At one point during the night, it struck me how similar this would have been to my Thanksgiving at home. Tons of people (almost all of the 39,827,128 members of the Tocco family were together), good food, Italian culture, loud people, laughter, all the things Thanksgiving should be. Everyone looked super classy and beautiful. It was the perfect dinner.

After dinner I came home and was hoping to be able to skype with my mom and all my family. I can't say that I wasn't a lot disappointed when I found out that wireless internet wasn't an option and Uncle Vito's webcam didn't work. I almost cried. So I called on the phone instead and my mom started passing the phone around to all the different members of my family. When I got to Emma, she told me that they got the internet to work and I could call on skype. So I did, and I have never been more excited to see my family than I was in that moment. It's true that when something is taken away you appreciate it much more. I talked to almost every single person in my family and it was so wonderful. Then my papa talked to my host mom in Italian. Vair vair cool, if you ask me. Then I talked to everyone some more. It was amazing beyond words. I am so truly blessed by my family. Every person in my family is a beautiful soul and I love them all dearly.

After I hung up, I cried a little. But really, I just couldn't stop smiling. I smiled for a long time after I hung up. I actually had a hard time falling asleep because I couldn't stop thinking about how blessed I am. I have so much to be thankful for. At some point, I realized that I did have Thanksgiving with my family, or at least one of my families. The people here have become my family. And this place has become my home. It may be a second home, but it is home nonetheless. So with that realization I got to check two more things off that list. The other half came when I veged (vegged? veg'ed? how would you write that?) out after I talked to my family on skype and watched CSI online until two in the morning. Lame, I know, but I did watch something American on my computer, which is kind of like watching football on TV. I checked the football scores online too. Does that count? I know it's not the same, so I'm giving myself half a point. That puts me at three and a half on my list. Pretty good considering the fact that I am in a country that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving at all, eh? I thought so.

So in conclusion, I would like to make this statement (which I have already made several times, but, as Gail says, there's no harm in restating your point and making it extra clear): I am incredibly blessed and have so much to be thankful for. And I have a feeling that I can't even grasp how blessed I truly am. I really have no idea. But I know that I ought to be thankful always. I love my families, Tocco and Klooster and especially my new Italy family. And I love skype. And that's all I have to say. I hope everyone else had a joyful, blessed Thanksgiving as well.

Ciao a tutti! See you all in less than two weekssss!!!!

I don't really know...

I have a joke for you:

What do you call a sleepwalking nun?

A roamin' Catholic.

ahahahahahahahahahaa so funny.

Cheers and bollucks and all that British shenanigans.

Hello again pals and pal-ettes.

I am still sick, have watched all of Willy Wonka (and decided on a new favorite quote in the movie: "If the good Lord had intended us to walk, He wouldn't have invented roller skates." Wise, wise words those are.) and am ready tell you people all about LONDON!!

I love love love love love love love London. In fact, I think that once I graduate, I will buy my villa in the Chianti region here in Italy and then I will find a fabulous flat in London, maybe somewhere in SoHo and get a job at the National Gallery. It will be the perfect life.

Anyways, let me tell you all about it so you will understand why I am so obsessed.

I got there at around 8:30 and Katie (my friend from Hope) and I immediately went to the theater and got in line for the midnight premier of HARRY POTTER and the Deathly Hallows. For those of you who don't know, I have an uncontrollable obsession with Harry Potter. I've mentioned it in my blog before, but I'm not sure if I have made clear the extent to which this obsession affects my life. It's severe. But in a good way. Moving on...HARRY POTTER was amazing and I want to see it again and again and again and again. And with all the other obsessed people in London, it was especially spectacular. I'm in love.

Then we slept. Friday was a good day. We did some shopping, explored the city and saw lots of landmarks: Westminster Abbey, the London Eye, Big Ben, etc. I took tons of pictures and I think I got some good ones. I'll put them on facebook STAT for your viewing pleasure. I ate Chinese food which was fantastic, because I have had nothing but Italian food for three solid months now. It was time for a little change. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Italian food more than most, but one of the most beautiful things in life is variety. So vary I did. Or something like that.

That night we went back to Leicester Square which was where we saw the movie (at the Odeon, which was also where they had the premier...like red carpet, stars, cameras, and all that jazz premier...no big deal...just kidding, that is a big deal. SO COOL) and ate at a restaurant called Yates's. This time, I had a big, greasy, juicy, American hamburger with french fries. It was soooo yummy. Apparently, after 9, Yates's turns into a nightclub, so we stayed there all night. We made some new friends, got some prizes, and had such a fun night. Fun fun fun fun fun. So fun. I loved it.

Saturday, we headed out in the morning and did several more things. We wandered up and down Oxford Street, ate at TGIF (and no, I do not feel bad about eating at an American restaurant...as I previously mentioned, Italian has been my only choice these last few months and I needed a taste of home...I had nachos and they were amazing), and did more touristy stuff. We went into the National Gallery which was very cool because I got to see lots of modern stuff, some contemporary stuff, and three big rooms full of Renaissance Florence stuff. It was wonderful. Katie was a little less enthusiastic than I was, but she was a good sport and followed me around while I jumped from piece to piece and told her all about everything we saw and gushed over each piece for ten minutes.



We left there and did what was probably my second favorite thing in London (Harry Potter was obviously my favorite): St. James Park. Buckingham Palace was very lame when we got there, but getting there was the best. We walked through St. James Park and saw all the birds they keep there. For those of you who don't know, they keep all kind of different birds there. Most noticeably, huge ducks and pelicans. I took some of the sweetest pictures of my life of both of them. They were very brave and friendly and didn't shy away when I put my camera right up to them. It was so cool. The ducks all but literally struck poses for me, and the pelicans were pretty much the same way. In fact, Katie and I saw two pelicans in the lake doing what looked like a mating dance. I wanted to take pictures, so we headed over to that side of the lake. All of the sudden, we came around a corner and there was a pelican, right in the middle of the sidewalk. He seemed friendly enough, so I handed Katie my camera, told her to take some pictures, and went over and petted him. He nibbled on my jacket for a minute like he was going to to eat it, but then he was fine and he let me pet him. (See picture at right.) He started to walk away and I took my camera back and crouched down in front of him and took some amazing pictures. I am so stoked on them. And there you have it.

After that it was a little more picture taking, a little more shopping, and then it was time for Katie to go. She hopped on her train and I headed back to the hostel to burn an hour and a half until my train to the airport left. I finished my book (Of Bees and Mist by Erick Setiawan...a very good book that you should all read) and then it was time to go.

The view on the plane as we were taking off was breathtaking. London truly is a beautiful city. I loved the people, the places, everything about it. Actually, I am going to go out on a limb here and say that it was my best weekend in Europe ever. So there.

And now, I am done. I have nothing else to say and I am sick and I need to sleep so I am leaving you. I hope you have once again enjoyed my antics and will come again for more crazy rambling. Have a nice night.

Love to you all. Cheers mate!

P.S. I am perfectly aware that I sound like a maniac in my blog about being captured by the circus. It was (partially) intended to be that way. And no, I was not actually captured by the circus. If you really believed that then you are a loon of the first water. I was merely trying to avoid the wrath of you all. I knew you'd be angry at my absence. You're a tough crowd. You've practically pushed me to the point of madness...let's hope it doesn't go any further. Sheesh.

Rome, in all it's glory. Or something like that.

Hello party people.

Rome was fantastic. It was overwhelming. I debated not spending several hours describing it all to you on here, but then, out of the goodness of my heart, and because I just love you all so very much, I decided I would write about it for you. So, as promised, here is a blog about Rome. Don't read it now if you don't have 34985 years to sit and read. I will try to keep it short, but it will probably take me that long to write about everything we did.

Here is a quick overview of the weekend:

Think of everything you can that exists in Rome (monuments, churches, tourist sites, museums, etc.). Okay, now add about 68 other smaller churches that you've never heard of and a couple palaces and villas. Add that all together. That's what we did. All of it. In four days. My feet hurt so bad they feel like they're bruised. Every time I take a step, it feels like I'm pushing on a big painful bruise. Wonderful times, really.

But actually, I LOVE ROME. I wouldn't go so far as to say I love it more than Venice, but I love love loved it. We saw some of the most amazing things I have ever seen in my life. The first thing we did (which I think remains my favorite) was go to the catacombs. We stopped at some that lie just outside the city walls on our way into Rome on Thursday. We were taken down into them by a guide who was very informational and helpful. In the catacombs we were in, there were more than five miles of tunnel. It was unbelievable. We saw some tombs that are still unopened, we saw some ancient frescos that are more than 1700 years old, and we saw what art historians have agreed is the first ever painted image of the Madonna and Child. For someone who has spent the last two and a half months looking at images of the Madonna and Child, that's incredible. It was an unreal experience. And it was very spiritual for me to be in the burial place of so many people who believed centuries ago what I believe today. I loved it. Lots and lots and lots.

After the catacombs, we checked into the hotel and had about an hour to prepare for the rest of the day. The rest of the day = the Vatican. If there was ever a place that can completely overwhelm you, it's the Vatican. We walked through the Vatican Museums, saw some of the old papal apartments and saw lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of art. Like, more than it was possible for me to process. However, I made sure to process all the highlights of the day, which were:
1. The Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo is truly the most talented man of his time, and maybe the rest of time.
2. Lots of works by Raphael. We saw School of Athens and all his other frescos in the room, which were all incredible. I loved that room. I really enjoy Raphael's work. He is one of my favorite artists.
3. The ancient statuary. It truly baffles me how these things survive for thousands and thousands of years.

After the Vatican, it was time for din. Din wasn't that great...kind of a disappointing first meal in Rome. The bar we found afterwards, however, was great. It was a good night. I had some yummy wine and some yummy cider, and then went home pretty early and SLEPT. I needed sleep.

However, eight o'clock came very early the next morning and it was time for our next excursion: the Colosseum, Palatine Hill, and the Roman Forum. All of these were so so so so cool. Obviously the Colosseum is amazing, but it was made even more amazing by the fact that we were able to get special permission to go down into the foundations which just opened a few weeks ago (for the first time ever, I believe). That means we got to hang out where the gladiators and animals hung out before the show. Kind of like the backstage area. It was so cool. Then, also as part of our special tour, we got to go up onto the very top layer or floor or whatever it's called. Again, so cool. Above is a group picture of everyone in the program, teachers and all. Aren't we cute? We were at the highest point of the Colosseum and had the most beautiful view of the city. I made sure to take lots of pictures and then I just stared at the beauty of Rome for a while.

After the Colosseum, we headed out and towards Palatine Hill. Once we got to the top of Palatine Hill, we were literally standing in almost the exact same spot that Romulus founded Rome on. We saw the ruins of very, very old ancient circus stadiums, palaces, houses, and even the first huts of Rome. It was pretty unreal to be standing in the spot where civilization was begun. And again, I am still shocked and amazed at the fact that these buildings have survived for hundreds upon hundreds of years. They must have employed some quality masons back in the day.

Okay, I started this blog two weeks ago the day after I got back from Rome. (I would like to point out that I at least made an effort to be timely and efficient.) Then life happened. I got back from Rome, and wrote a paper the next day. Tuesday my friend Katie Anderson got here from Dublin and that put me on entertaining duty for the next five days until she left Friday night. Wednesday, the day after Katie got here, I had a big midterm for Gail. So the week after I got back from Rome was clearly busy and chaotic and so I was obviously unable to write. Then last week I had another paper to write and sleep to catch up on. All very good reasons to not write a blog in my opinion.

So here is the condensed version of the rest of my time in Rome:
After Palatine Hill, we went to the Roman forum and it was amazing. Then we had some free time. I decided to go to the Trevi Fountain and do some coin tossing and whatnot with some friends. First we went to lunch and then we made our way over there. The piazza was incredibly small. In the movies they make it look like there is some huge piazza with lots of people. There are certainly lots of people, but the piazza is far from huge. Anyways, after the Trevi, we went on a walking tour and saw the Pantheon, Santa Maria Maggiore, and the Four Rivers Fountain by Bernini in Piazza Narvona. I love Bernini's work so that was probably my favorite part of the day. It was truly a beautiful work of art. The next day brought Villa Farnese, Castel Sant'Angelo (which provided breathtakingly beautiful views of the city), lunch at the best salad place on the planet, and Villa Borghese. Two notes on our last day: first, besides the catacombs, the Villa Borghese was my favorite part of the trip. It housed several of Bernini's most amazing sculptures (his David, The Rape of Persephone, Apollo and Daphne, etc.) and seeing them was incredible. Second, this salad place was life-changing. They had the best and most unique salads I've ever heard of. I've included a picture of me and my salad. It had corn, carrots, olives, peppers, avocados, and feta cheese. It was superb. Really. I think I've found my calling in life: to open a salad restaurant like this place. I am officially obsessed. And that is Rome in a nutshell.

Now, I think instead of telling you about my trip to London in this blog, I will start a new one. Don't worry, I promise to finish it on the same day that I start it--today. I have nothing else to do today. I am home in bed, sick. I have a sinus infection and frankly I am pretty miserable. In fact, you lot should appreciate my writing at all. I am using what little energy I have to entertain you, you lucky minxes. Anyways, I will say farewell for now. I am going to take a little break before I write my London blog and finish watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, which happens to be my favorite movie of all time, in case you were wondering.

So, ciao for now. I will post again later this afternoon. Have a glorious few hours folks.

xo Sarahhhh

P.S. I had champagne gelato in Rome. It was crazy. I think it got me a little tipsy. Who knew gelato could get you drunk? Welcome to Italy, friends :)

This is all true.

Hello to all the world!

If you who are my faithful followers were concerned that I have not posted in three and half weeks, you should have come to rescue me. I was captured by a traveling circus, made to live in the stalls with the dirty horses and dangerous lions, forced to clean up after the elephants, and isolated by myself in an animal stall where I had to sleep alone in the cold and was miserable all day and all night. But alas! I have escaped and returned to tell you about my travels with the circus all over Italy. So fear not, I am warm and in good company these days, though still recovering from the emotional stress that my experience caused me. I will return to normal one day (maybe), but for now, just listen to me, please, as I tell my tale.

(Before I begin, I will just quickly let you know that the week after I last wrote, before the circus took me, was pretty uneventful. I went to class, wrote an essay, learned some Italian, drank some wine, and ate some delicious food. Nothing out of the norm or worth mentioning.)

It all started during what was supposed to be my fall break. I was supposed to go to Lucca on Tuesday and Milan on Thursday for two days with my good friend Valerie, but the thieves of the circus stole me away on Sunday night. Somehow, however, I still ended up in both Lucca and Milan at the same times Valerie was there. I was able to sneak away from the ever-watchful eye of the evil ring master long enough to explore both places with Val.

Lucca was unbelievably beautiful and quaint. It had a town wall that went all the way around the perimeter that had a sidewalk with trees on either side along the top of it. We explored the city for a while (always making sure to stay far away from where the circus was set up), had a little photo shoot/photography tutorial in some beautiful public garden (see photo #1), and I got my haircut on a whim! Don't worry, it's nothing drastic. Just getting my bangs back and adding some long subtle layers. It was certainly interesting (and a little nerve-wracking) to try to explain to the hairdresser what I wanted in Italian. Good thing I had the basically fluent Valerie there to help me. My hero! :) After my haircut, we headed up the top of the wall and walked around for a while (photo #2). It was the perfect fall day: there was a slight breeze and a beautiful, clear blue sky, the leaves were changing, and people were out for walks with their children and their dogs. We saw lots of cute couples and lots of old men playing cards and enjoying the beautiful day. In the evening, I had to head back to the circus before they realized that I was gone and started a manhunt for me. So I departed from Val and headed back to my cold, dirty, lonely stall. But I was warmed and encourage by the memory of the beautiful day that I had.

Wednesday went slow in my stall, but I did bond with some of the lions, so that was good. Thursday was the day I was supposed to go to Milan with Valerie and I was very sad to not be going. However, during our early morning meeting, the ring master announced that we would be taking an unexpected detour to Milan! Hooray! I immediately started planning my escape. Fortunately, I was able to get away due to some help from the Chinese acrobats and the monkeys.

I met up with Valerie at the train station and we started our exploration of Milan. I have to say, after Lucca, Milan was kind of a letdown. I felt like I was in Chicago or Boston or something. It just wasn't what I was expecting or hoping for. But Val and I had a great day. We walked to a park and sat and had a good, long, deep talk. We talked about our dogs, our families, life in the circus, you know, the usual. Then we headed to what was supposed to be a fabulous aquarium. We stopped for lunch on the way (red wine and pizza...yumm-o!) and then made our way across the street to the aquarium. Talk about a letdown. It was one floor, one room. I don't even want to talk about it because it was so depressing. Just don't ever go to the Milan aquarium. It sucks.  Anyways, as we were leaving the aquarium and exploring some more, we stumbled upon a beautiful old castle. We went inside and hung out in the courtyard in the glorious fall sunshine. (It was so nice to not be stuck in the tents with the elephants and horses all day.) As we were leaving the castle however, the fun stopped when we found a flyer for the circus and I realized what time it was. I needed to get back before anyone realized that I was gone. I hurried back and  luckily no one had really noticed. To my great surprise, Valerie showed up at the circus that night. Since everyone is so busy during the show, the ring master in particular, I was able to sit in the audience and watch the show with Val. It was quite enjoyable, actually. The non enjoyable part was going back to sleep with the animal performers after the show. But again, I was kept warm by the promise of another fabulous day with Valerie the next day.

The second day in Milan was a little rough. We did see the National Science and Technology Museum which was great. There were lots of Leonardo's sketches which had been realized with little models. They also had examples of tons of old phones, radios, music players, globes, maps, telescopes, TVs, anything you can think of. It was phenomenal. There was also a photography exhibit of a man who did work for Time, Newsweek, and many other prestigious publications. All of his photos were breathtaking. They were innovative and striking and the subjects were so provocative. I'm so glad I saw that. After the Science and Technology Museum, things kind of went downhill. We got lost a lot, things that were supposed to exist seemed to have disappeared, we both got irritated...it wasn't great. So I headed back to the circus early, a little disappointed, but glad that I got to spend so much time with Valerie. All in all, it was a fabulous two days.

The next two weeks were pretty uneventful. I mean, as uneventful as life in the circus can be. There's always drama in the circus. If you want a good illustration of the drama, politics, and danger involved in a circus, Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen is a good reference. It will help you to understand what my life was like during the last three weeks.

It happened on a Friday night. After two boring, but awful weeks, I ran away for good.  I spent while planning my final escape. It was dangerous. I was very scared. But I did it. I owe my life to an elephant named Eileen and a clown named Roger. I am eternally grateful to them.

I made it home by Saturday morning, just in time to head to Padua for a night with my host momma, Anna, and my nonna (grandma). We stayed at Nonna's house, which is about a half an hour outside of Padua, for the night. She had a huge, beautiful garden in her backyard. There were tomatoes and peppers and lettuce and olives and oranges and lemons and kiwis and grapes and raddishes and everything you could imagine. It was wonderful. It was so good to be out in the open, free air after all that time cooped up in my stall in the circus. The little town we were in reminded me a lot of Charlevoix. It was very small and everyone seemed to know each other. It was out in the country and there was lots of green and it had the cutest little downtown area. I was obsessed. Anna has already promised me that we can go back for another weekend before I leave.

I got home from Padua Sunday evening, glad to be back in my own bed rather than on a bed of hay. Class on Monday was the same as always, except everyone was glad to see that I had arrived home safely and they were all eager to hear my tales. Yesterday was midterm day. I only had one, and it went very well (I think/hope).

Forgive me if this post is not up to par. My terrible circus adventures left me exhausted and I am still in need of time to recover. Time to recover, however, is not in my near future. I have a crazy three weeks ahead of me. Tomorrow at seven o'clock in the morning, I leave for Rome. I will be there for four days with my program. We will see catacombs, the Vatican, San Clemente, the Colosseum, the ancient Roman baths, everything there is to see in Rome. And all in four days. How lovely. I get home to Florence Sunday night, and then Tuesday, my wonderful friend from Hope, Katie Anderson, is coming to stay in Florence until the following Sunday. It is going to be a glorious week. I will be very glad to see a familiar face. After she leaves, I will have another week of classes, and then...(drumroll, please)...I AM GOING TO LONDON FOR THE HARRY POTTER PREMIERE!!!!!!!! (This is the part where you all turn green with envy.) It is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I absolutely cannot wait. I will be in London for three days (which is cool enough in itself) and the night I get there, I will see HARRY POTTER at midnight (the Jupiter-sized cherry on top of the best sundae ever)!!! So for all of you who remember one of my first blogs back in August when I was worried about missing the movie altogether, you can now celebrate with me the strange way life has of working things out. Basically, my life is the most fabulous life ever. I am so lucky :)

So, I am going to sleep now, because, as I previously mentioned, I am leaving for Rome at 7 AM tomorrow, which means a 5:45 wake-up call. That's going to hurt. But, I promise a blog sometime next week describing all that happened in Rome (or at least most of what happened in Rome), provided that no more circuses kidnap me. Or packs of wolves. Or cute Italian boys on mopeds. Or anything else. Who knew Italy was such a dangerous place? :)

 Until then, I will do as the Romans do :)

Ciao miei amori. Buon serata.

I'm bored so I'm blogging. (I'm also avoiding homework so I'm blogging. Don't worry about it.)

It's time for a new blog.

Obviously.

I have more loves and misses to tell you about. Let's start with misses. I miss:
1. ...Michigan autumns. The leaves just don't change here the way they do in Michigan. Bummer.
2. ...my family (this is going to appear on all my misses lists, so get used to it. They're just way too wonderful to not be missed every second of every day).
3. ...Colin. So so so much.
4. ...the Gathering. How could I not miss being at the Gathering every Sunday night, worshiping with all you amazing folks at Hope?
5. ...MY DOGS. My host grandma (Nonna) has a little dog but he kind of sucks. All he does is sleep and beg for food. Not nearly as exciting as my dogs. But then again, how could any dog match the entertainment value of Codi (the reddish one) and especially Lucy (the spazzy black one)? I mean really...let's be real here. But anyways, I miss them lots and lots.
6. ...carpet still, especially as the weather gets colder and the tile floors do the same. Brrrrr! It's nippy noodles.
7. ...showers. My host family only has a bath. There is a shower head that you can hold up and use, but still. When I went to Venice last weekend it was so nice to shower! But also very tiring. By the time I get home I might not ever be able to shower again...standing up while bathing is getting hard for me. It wears me out. Really. This is not a joke. It's a little bit frightening, actually. I may be ruined. Uh-oh.
8. ...economy-size shampoo and conditioner. I buy conditioner like, once a week here because I can't find any bottles of it that are not dwarf-sized. Nutella however, comes in 16 liter containers. So that's nice. Very practical.
9. ...people who speak English. As much as I love the Italian language and learning it, it is nice to be able to just understand things without having to focus so hard you feel like you're about to go cross-eyed. Good grief.
10. ...pillows. For those of you who know how I sleep (which I hope is not many of you...), you know that I sleep with 6 pillows on my bed. Big fluffy, soft pillows. Here, I have one pillow, one, and it is about as thick as a piece of paper folded in half. Again, good grief. I think my neck is going to fall off, or something to that effect. Maybe..? Whatever. It's a bad situation.
11. ...ice. It doesn't really exist here. All your drinks tend to be room temperature, rather than chilled, and ice doesn't exist. Also, on this same note, I very much miss drinking fountains as well.
12. ...public restrooms. Here, if you need to use the bathroom while wandering around the city or attending a site visit for one of your classes, for example, well, that's just too bad. No churches and very few museums have restrooms and public restrooms are incredibly hard to come by. If, by the hand of God, you do find a public restroom, you then have to proceed to pay up to 1,50 euro to use it. Appalling, I know. I have to stop here, because if I go on I will get very angry and worked up and things could get out of hand.

I love:
1. ...my host mom. She's my best friend. I love her so much. And today is her birthday :)
2. ...the down comforter that my host mom put on my bed last week. It is unbelievably warm and fluffy and comfy and cozy. So wonderful.
3. ...the endless sea of motorinas (for those of you among us who are slightly less educated in Italian transportation methods, motorinas are the vespas, motorcycles, etc.). I desperately wish I could own one. The women on those things inspire my life. Really.
4. ...ricciarelli cookies. They are the most delicious, scrumptious little cookies ever. They are super moist little almond cookies covered with powdered sugar and they straight up blow my mind every time I eat them, which is not often enough.
5. ...gelato. We've been over this already, so I'm not going to go any further.
6. ...the architecture. It's all amazing. I am constantly awed by the determination and resolve of the human spirit. They built some amazing buildings in this country, back in the day when you had to carry your marble up the wooden rafters to wherever you needed it by hand. Holy cow. That's unbelievable. They were truly remarkable.

That's all I've got for you for now. I am tired and in need of a pizzolino (baby nap). I will write again soon, when I have more clever and entertaining and wise and insightful things to say.

Love to you all.

Ciaooooo! :)

P.S. I couldn't resist adding this picture of my father. The night before I left for Italy, my family and friends had a going-away dinner for me. I brought my camera so I could take pictures to bring with me so I wouldn't forget what everyone looks like. At one point, Connor (my brother), took my camera and was taking pictures. When I got to Italy a couple days later and uploaded the pictures from the dinner onto my computer, there was a series of pictures of my dad posing in various ways. This was the last pose. I literally laughed out loud when I saw it, and it still makes me so happy. The best part is, I obviously had no idea what was going on even though I am standing right in front of my dad. No one was aware that this little photoshoot was happening. But it did happen. And my dad cracks me up. And I love this picture so much. And I miss my daddy. And I love him tons :)

Venice? Yes please.

I have a lot to tell you.

First, I will tell you about what some of you already know, something that has been pretty much dominating my thoughts for the past few days. My Aunt Maria has breast cancer and it's not such a good situation. In fact, it's downright bad. It's a terrible situation and I miss her so so much and I really hate being this far away and disconnected, in a sense, from her and the rest of my family. We got bad news in the last few days, and I've been really struggling with it. It's not an easy thing to deal with, especially when I am, as I have previously mentioned, 600 billion miles (or something to that effect) away. Please pray for her in these days that she will be miraculously healed. We need to believe in miracles in situations like this. So ask for a miracle. For God says, "Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you" (Matthew 7:7). So I ask you to ask for a miracle, seek healing, and knock on the door of hope. These are the things we need right now for our family. 

Also, please keep my Uncle Brian in your prayers, as he had a hockey injury last week that somehow translated into a freak accident which affected his spinal cord. It looks as though he will make a full recovery, but it's going to be a long road for him. Please pray for patience and quick healing. Thanks everyone. Prayer is a powerful tool, and our family covets every prayer that is made by everyone around the world. I don't know if you get extra credit from God for praying for people in other countries, but all my Italian, German, Olandese, etc. friends can give it a try. It can't hurt, right? :)

Anyways, now that you all know what you can pray for, let me tell you what you can rejoice for. It is this:

I AM OBSESSED WITH VENICE. 

Venice is the most amazing place I have ever been. I actually wrote down the phone number from a "For Rent" (in Italian, "affitare") sign in the window of an apartment. It was across the street from a lovely little hat and glove store. How fabulous. I would never have to leave the house without hats or gloves again. I could make friends with the owner of the store and get discounts or maybe even lots of Christmas/birthday/Thanksgiving/Halloween/Hanukkah/Valentine's Day/holidays-in-general presents. Perfect. It's a plan then. But that's not the point. The point is that I love Venice. The city itself was beautiful, the stores were fabulous, the food was delicious, everything was perfect. The only downfall was that every single tourist in the whole world decided to visit Venice last weekend too. So there were 3,497,012,033,828,432,347,885 people there. In other words, a lot of people visit Venice. Too many. They need to all go home so I can enjoy my new home in peace.

Other than the endless hoards of people, everything was beautiful and wonderful and perfect. Let me tell you about it. We left at an ungodly early time of day (we left from the train station at 7:30...that meant a 6:30 wake-up call for Leslie and I...good grief). We got there at 11-ish after a sleepy, tired bus ride. As soon as we got there, we got off the bus and onto a boat that took us to the little glass making island of. Murano. Some people felt a little seasick being on the boat in what were rather rough waters for Venice, but I felt right at home. It was almost like being on Lake Michigan or Lake Charlevoix except, of course, for the salt that was so thick you could taste it in the air. Gross. Anyways, we got a glass blowing demonstration in which a man made a horse out of molten glass right in front of us. It was crazy. So so so cool. Then we were brought to their showroom where we could buy stuff. Let me tell you, the chandeliers in the showroom were unreal. They were incredibly beautiful and shiny and sparkly and absolutely amazing. For those of you who know about my extreme obsession with chandeliers, you know that this was not a situation. I seriously considered stealing one. All I would have had to do was get one down from the ceiling, dismantle it, slip the pieces in my purse and my pockets and down my shirt, and make it out of the showroom and off the island before anyone saw me. Easy enough. However,  as I was very tired from my early wake-up call and running a little low on energy, I decided to wait. Another time when I have more energy maybe. Or maybe I will rob a bank and buy one. Or maybe I will marry rich and buy lots of them, one for each room of my house. Two for my bedroom. Whatever I need to do to get one of these chandeliers, I will do. I'm obsessed. Obviously.

After we left the island (where I bought some fabulous presents...get excited people!), we went back to the actual city of Venice and checked into our hotel, Hotel Messner. We sat/laid on our beds for 20-ish minutes and blow dryed our shoes and socks (it poured rain while we were walking around Murano...it was very wet) and then headed out again for what was a loooooooonnggg day. We toured the Doge's palace (Palazzo Ducale) which was amazing. We then had a couple hours of free time during which (get ready, this is BIG...) I FOUND MY BOOTS!!!!! (I decided before I came to Italy that my one big purchase here was going to be a nice pair of leather boots. I've been looking in every single shoe store that I've seen since I've been here to try and find them. I didn't want to rush it. I was waiting for the pair that spoke to me. I was waiting for the pair that, when I saw them, the heavens opened up and angels started singing and the whole world made sense and everything fell into place. It was a stressful process. I was always worried that I was going to miss them and lose the perfect pair in the sea of boots that are in Italy. That didn't happen. I found them in Venice.) I was walking around the streets with a group of people, exploring, when we walked over a bridge and I looked to my left and there was a shoe store. I ran my eyes along the shelves of boots on display and all of the sudden, I saw them. They were just sitting there, staring at me, calling to me, ready to transform me, to change my life. I stopped walking, turned to my left, and walked into the store like a zombie, never breaking eye contact with my boots. I asked to try them on, and they fit! I decided to wait to buy them until the next day, because I didn't want to carry them around for the rest of the day until we could go back to the hotel at nine o'clock that night. I thought about them for the whole next two days until I bought them. (I sadly had to wait two days to buy them, but don't worry, I got them.) I dreamed about them that night, and the next. I. Love. Them. I am so relieved and excited to have found them. YAY!!!!! :)

After the boot store, I wandered the streets of Venice for a little while. Then at eight o'clock our group had to meet outside St. Mark's Basilica so we could get ready for our private tour. That's right, I said private tour. Our group and a group of students from the University of Michigan went into the cathedral after it had been closed off to the public and got to see it at night. Let me tell you how this all went down, because it was unreal. There were about 60 of us altogether. First we all gathered in the entryway and Jodie gave us a little background information on the cathedral and it's history. Then we went into the actual cathedral. They had all the lights turned off except for a few along the isles to guide us to the chairs they had set up for us. We all sat down and they turned off all the lights. We sat in the pitch black in complete silence for a couple of minutes. Then they slowly, level by level, turned all the lights in the cathedral on, illuminating the whole building. For those of you who don't know, the entire ceiling of the whole cathedral is covered in mosaics that are all gold, except for the small parts of the mosaics where the figures are. So the entire place glowed in a magnificent, unbelievably beautiful golden light. It was totally surreal to see this place slowly begin to glow, to see these amazing mosaics slowly come into the light. It made me cry. Without even knowing what was happening, tears welled up in my eyes and started to roll down my cheeks. It was so completely, absolutely, incredibly magnificent and totally humbling. I felt at once both so small but also inspired and uplifted because I was a part of something that is so beautiful and majestic. It literally took my breath away. I have chills just thinking about it. It was the highlight of this trip. My time in Italy is nowhere near over, but I can tell you right now that no other moment during this trip will in any way match that moment. I don't even have words to describe it. It was surreal, magnificent, awesome, majestic, breathtaking, in all ways absolutely unbelievable. I can't say anything more.

After the Basilica di San Marco, we went back to the hotel and got some much needed sleep. The next day we took a tour with Jodie of the city. She brought us to a few churches, a scoula (which is not a school, but a kind of gathering place for a confraternity), a whole bunch of places. It's kind of a blur. I was super duper tired. It was kind of rough. Post walk, we had lunch and then hurriedly made our way to the train station. Saturday meant a trip to Padua was in order. We took the train to Padua (a half an hour ride) to go see the Scrovegni Chapel (also known as the Arena Chapel) which was painted by Giotto. It was unbelievable. Giotto really was a genius. His work is, to this day, amazingly beautiful and realistic. It was so cool to see this chapel and see such an early example of Giotto's work. Not quite as fantastic as San Marco, but still wonderful in its own way. We really did see some of the most impressive and spectacular art in Italy during this weekend. We are so so lucky. You should all be unbearably jealous. You're really missing out by not being here. Just saying.

Sunday was, besides seeing San Marco on Friday, filled with the most wonderful things of the weekend. First, I went with some lovely girlies to see a Stanley Kubrick photography exhibition at an art institute near the Galleria in the city. It was sweet. He's so incredible. It really blew my mind. I love his work. He was so so so talented. Then I went to the home of the Peggy Guggenheim Collection which sits right on the Grand Canal. I am obsessed. I saw works that I have studied extensively, works that I had to do slid identifications for on my final in my contemporary art class a couple semesters ago. It was my favorite (again, outside of San Marco...that will be my favorite moment of my whole four months here, I will tell you that for free) thing ever. I love love love loved it. I want to live in the gallery. Actually, speaking of living in the museum, I think I might. Well, not live in the museum per say, but live near it and intern at it. You see, they have this fabulous intern program there and I am going to apply!!!!! I have an application. It wouldn't be until the fall after I graduate, so two years from now, but I am already so stoked on it. They give you a stipend which is enough to pay for your housing and food, so I would live for free, and then you learn all about how a museum works and you get to give talks on all sorts of things to school groups or groups of tourists or whoever. You also attend weekly conference-type things to learn more about the art there, Peggy Guggenheim herself, and museums/galleries in general. So amazingly fabulous. I can't wait for this internship. I really hope I get it. It would be the best experience ever. We shall see...but for now, I will stay super excited and spend the next two years mentally preparing for three months living in Venice working at the Peggy Guggenheim. Holy cow. Unreal. 

Anyways, after the Guggenheim, I bought my boots (FINALLY!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYYYY!!!!) and had lunch and then it was time to go. All in all, a pretty damn good weekend, if you ask me. Italy is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love this country, Venice in particular. Now, time to learn some stuff about art history, explore Florence a little more, and eat some more gelato (my favorite never-ending activity). I have to leave you all. But I will write again soon. In the meantime, you should all SEND ME MAIL. I know it it pointless to ask at this point, because I am starting to accept the fact that you all don't love me as much as I like to think you do. But this is my pathetic last attempt at guilting you into sending me letters and cards and postcards. Here's my address, one more time, for my newer followers:

Sarah Klooster

ACM Florence Program

c/o Linguaviva Scuola d'Italiano

Via Fiume 17

Florence 50123

ITALY

That's all I've got for you. I have nothing else to say. All I want is mail. And prayers. But that's it. That's not too much ask, is it? I guess we'll see...

Love you all tons!!

Arrivederci!

xo Sarahhh

My Fabulous Life. NBD. But really, it is a big deal. So that should read: BD, not NBD.

Well hello world :)

It has been a good, amazing, fabulous, busy week. I started my art history classes and am now well on my way to becoming a wise Renaissance art historian. In fact, I'm almost there already. Only 10 more weeks and I'll be able to tell you everything there is to know about Italian Renaissance art. Probably.

I have some fabulous classes and very wise, knowledgeable, meraviglioso (marvelous) professors. I am excited to learn from them. Right now though, I have a confession to make to you all (don't judge me, don't hate me, don't scold me...): for the most part, Renaissance art doesn't really excite me. I know, it's horrible. But it's true. Actually, it's not completely true. Renaissance architecture (and some sculpture) does excite me. A lot. But Renaissance painting generally bores me. Probably because I am ignorant and don't know anything about it. However, the more I learn, the more I appreciate it. There's nothing like being able to look at a painting and understand it, really understand it, from the content to the theory to the technique. I'm trying to get to a point where I can do that with most of the paintings that I encounter so that I can therefore at least appreciate them, even if I don't necessarily love them. Surprisingly enough, however, in spite of my general non-enthusiasm and ignorance when it comes to Renaissance painting, Masaccio's Trinity from 1427 honestly made my jaw hit the floor today. It's incredible. You see, I am a modern and contemporary art kind of girl, not a Masaccio, Ghirlandaio, and Brunelleschi kind of girl.  I am fascinated by conceptual art; art that engages you in a dialog, that doesn't spell out what it's trying to say specifically, excites me. Renaissance art is, as one of my Hope College professors said, the country music of the art world: it tells you everything up front, flat out. It leaves you with no room for misinterpretation. In country music, you know what color the truck is, what kind of drink they're drinking (probably beer), what bar they're at, who was there, everything. Nothing is left to your imagination. Similarly, Renaissance paintings often tell you up front who the patrons were that commissioned the work; who the patron saint is; what city the work was created in; again, everything. Not much room for imagination. Even the contracts which were written at the time of the commission included ridiculously specific demands that the artist had to meet. Much of the art from the Renaissance period was not created from the imagination of the artist, it was created according to the demands of a guild, or a confraternity, or a priest, or some other commissioner. So like I said, that's not too exciting to me, a girl who loves Richard Serra, Francis Bacon, and Barnett Newman. But I'm learning. Don't worry.

Okay, so that was a long, rather boring paragraph for most of you. Sorry about that art history lesson/complaining session. Actually, I'm not sorry. At least not for the art history lesson part. It's good for you. It makes you smarter. You should probably send me a thank you note, to be honest. In the form of mail. Sent to my address. To me. Like a letter. Or a card. Or even a postcard. (Are you lot getting the hint that I really enjoy getting mail and would love to get some from you all? I've mentioned it several times. I like to think that you are smart people and have caught on by now. But I also like to think that you do love me and you're not just flat out ignoring my tasteless, desperate requests for mail. So really, I don't know what to think when it comes to you people and your intelligence and your love for me. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, will you please please please send me mail? It would make me so very happy. Just saying...)

Moving on...this last week has been full of fun and joy and happy things like rainbows and bunnies. Except for the rainbows and bunnies part. But you get the point. Last weekend I had my first real "going out" experience, save for that first night at Space, which doesn't count because it was just way too ridiculous. So anyways, on Friday, the day after I last wrote to you, I went out with VALERIE! Yes, the Valerie. It was amazing. Between Friends Pub and Chinese food and new friends named Francis (maybe? haha), we had a fabulous, very late night. (For those of you who do not know me well, I am very much like an old woman. In fact, I may indeed be an old woman in a young woman's body. Really. If I go to bed past 10:30 pm, it's a really late night for me. I have quite an early bedtime and I require enormous amounts of sleep. For example, yesterday I took a three (yes, three) hour nap. It was great. Some of you may think that after a nap like that (I woke up at 7:30 pm) I wouldn't be able to sleep that night. Well, those of you who think that are obviously the ones who don't know me well. I got a solid eight and half hours last night. And I'm about ready for a nap right now before dinner. It's all true. I speak truth. But the point is, when I was out with Valerie, I went to bed at three o'clock am. That is unheard of for me. Ridiculous. I think I'm losing my mind. Wow. It actually still impresses me to think about that. I'm kind of proud of that. That's a big accomplishment for me. Maybe you should send me a note of congratulations. To my address. Like mail. Just a thought.)

On Saturday I had lunch with some girlies from my program for Zoe's birthday. Zoe is a girl in my program, for those of you who don't know, which is all of you except the occasional creeper from my program like Steph and Alyse and maybe a few others (Amy, are you a part of this group? I hope so) who read my blog like creepers. Because they're creepers. Creepy. After lunch, my roommate Leslie and I did an assignment for one of our classes. The assignment was to walk around the city to different landmarks that represent Medieval Florence. This would include family palaces, churches, early family towers, the palaces of the wealthiest gilds in the city (the wool, silk, butcher's, and calimala (cloth sellers) gilds), and other various buildings and old streets around the city. It was long (it took about four hours), but it was incredible. I really loved it. I think I am going to try to do it again when I am not so focused on answering questions for my class and not getting lost. Post-walk, Leslie and I came home to an especially yummy dinner prepared for us by Momma Anna. But then, which of her dinners is not especially yummy? None of them. I mean all of them. I mean...I don't know what is the proper way to answer the rhetorical question that I just asked you all. Whoops. Well, what I'm trying to say is that all of Momma Anna's meals are especially yummy. End of story.

Sunday was a mellow day of homework and napping, a good day. Monday was my first class! The topic for the day was the Duomo (the campanile, to be specific) so we met there at 9 am. It was C-O-L-D. I think it was below zero outside, similar to the temperatures of the arctic region. Well, that may be a little bit of an exaggeration. But really it was uncomfortably cold to stand outside for almost two hours and take notes. Still, it was very interesting and exciting to learn about this huge, beautiful, incredible building that I see almost everyday. It's so fascinating! After that class, I had a break so I went home and took a nap. Typical. Then I had more Italian. The next day I had my other two art history classes. Jodie (my program director and one of my professors) has quickly become my Mrs. Schaperkotter of this trip. I love her. She is my idol. Her class is going to be so so so good. I can't wait to glean knowledge from all her areas of expertise. Don't be surprised if I come home and I am a Renaissance art genius. It will probably happen. I'll be the next Giorgio Vasari. Look out!

Anyways, the rest of the week has passed with reading, on site class meetings, and hanging out with friends. And now today is an important day: it is Alex's birthday (!) and Valerie and Vittoriana are done with their crazy hard classes today!!! Two major events. You know what that means...time to CELEBRATE!!!! Tonight might accidentally turn into another way-too-late night. But it will be worth it if that does accidentally happen. It's gonna be a good good night. And then tomorrow (feel free to scream with jealousy at my announcement here...), I am leaving for VENICE.  That's right. Venice. The Venice. The one that is amazing and unique and beautiful. This is going to be the best weekend ever. I'll be back on Sunday. I promise a blog soon after my return. Have a good weekend everyone. I know I will...

Ciao bellisimi!

xo me

P.S. I expect mail next week people. I'm serious. In fact, I'm so serious that I have decided to offer an incentive: for all those of you who send me mail, I will return the kindness by sending you a postcard. I may or may not write on the back of it. It depends on how good the mail I get from you is. But I know you all will not half-ass this. I have faith in you. Besides, how could you half-ass this when I am shamelessly begging, flat out begging, for you to send me mail. For pity's sake, humor me here people. I am begging. I don't know what else to do. But that's not the point. The point is that I love you all and can't wait to hear from you :)

P.P.S I have found my favorite place in Florence: Santa Maria Novella (where Masaccio's Trinity is located). It is the most beautiful, incredible, historically significant church I have ever been in. I am officially obsessed. If anyone in Florence needs to contact me, just come look for me at Sta. Maria Novella. I'll be there. All day. All night. Forever. Except when I'm in Venice, of course.

P.P.P.S. The picture I included is one of my favorite that I've taken so far. In case you're not aware, this picture is of the place where I live. Holy cow. How fabulous is my life? Super fabulous. Super duper fabulous. I love my life :)

Deep thoughts...

Hello all! I have nothing related to Italy to say to you today. I took my Italian final this morning and my brain has been struggling with the idea of functioning properly since then. So I'm not even going to attempt to say things to you right now. They won't come out right and then you'll think I'm crazy (which is a very real possibility that I would rather not reinforce). Instead I am sharing some words of wisdom from two very lovely writers with you. These two pieces of writing outline my personal philosophy on life very well. Read them. Ponder them. Digest them. Learn from them. They're wonderful.

First, a poem: 

the lesson of the moth

by Don Marquis

i was talking to a moth

the other evening

he was trying to break into 

an electric light bulb 

and fry himself on the wires

why do you fellows

pull this stunt i asked him

because it is the conventional

thing for moths or why

if that had been an uncovered

candle instead of an electric

light bulb you would 

now be a small unsightly cinder

have you no sense

plenty of it he answered

but at times we get tired 

of using it

we get bored with the routine

and crave beauty 

and excitement

fire is beautiful

and we know that if we get 

too close it will kill us

but what does that matter

it is better to be happy for a moment

and be burned up with beauty

than to live a long time

and be bored all the while

so we wad all our life up

into one little roll

and then we shoot the roll

that is what life is for

it is better to be a part of beauty

for one instant and then to cease to

exist than to exist forever

and never be a part of beauty

our attitude toward life

is come easy go easy

we are like human beings

used to be before they became 

too civilized to enjoy themselves

and before i could argue him 

out of his philosophy

he went and immolated himself

on a patent cigar lighter

i do not agree with him

myself i would rather have

half the happiness and twice

the longevity

but at the same time i wish

there was something i wanted 

as badly as he wanted to fry himself

Second, some microfiction:

Dinosaur

by Bruce Holland Rogers

When he was very young, he waved his arms, gnashed the teeth of his massive jaws, and tromped around the house so that the dishes trembled in the china cabinet. "Oh, for goodness sake," his mother said. "You are not a dinosaur! You are a human being!" Since he was not a dinosaur, he thought for a time that he might be a pirate. "Seriously," his father said at some point, "what do you want to be?" A fireman, then. Or a policeman. Or a soldier. Some kind of hero. But in high school they gave him tests and told him he was very good with numbers. Perhaps he would like to be a math teacher? That was respectable. Or a tax accountant? He could make a lot of money doing that. It seemed a good idea to make money, what with falling in love and thinking about raising a family. So he was a tax accountant, even though he sometimes regretted that it made him, well, small. And he felt even smaller when he was no longer a tax accountant, but a retired tax accountant. Still worse, a retired tax accountant who forgot things. He forgot to take the garbage to the curb, forgot to take his pill, forgot to turn his hearing aid back on. Every day it seemed he had forgotten more things, important things, like which of his children lived in San Francisco and which of his children were married or divorced.

Then one day when he was out for a walk by the lake, he forgot what his mother had told him. He forgot that he was not a dinosaur. He stood blinking his dinosaur eyes in the bright sunlight, feeling the familiar warmth on his dinosaur skin, watching dragonflies flitting among the horsetails at the water's edge.


Lessons of the day: forget what your mother (and everyone else) has told you, and want something so much you'll fight like a moth for it.

xo me

Compare where you are and where you wanna be and you'll get nowhere.

I've had some revelations recently.

[I know that I quickly established myself as a highly comedic and sassy blogger, but I would now like to reveal to you all my softer side, my I'm-having-a-not-so-good-day-and-therefore-have-no-sass side. You can still expect ridiculous exaggerations, a few surreptitiously cheeky remarks, and the occasional sarcasm that I have proven to be of necessity for my writing. Please be gentle with my fragile, philosophical side. I know you will. Her name is Martha. Here she is.]

My first revelation was this: I am not the bold, fearless, vivacious, independent, big-adventure-in-Italy girl that I was so sure I was. I'm just not. And that's not easy for me to swallow. Until now, I imagined a life of living in the big city, far from home, doing my own thing, being the kind of woman little girls looked up to for her fierce independence and sassy attitude. Then I came to Italy. I am approximately six hundred billion miles from home, living in a city where, up until three weeks ago, I knew no one, and it's getting the best of me. Don't get me wrong, I love this place. I really do. I am obsessed with this country, this city, this culture, and these people. But I think I came here with a bravado that I think I subconsciously hoped would impress and reassure me, and instead, it did the opposite: it gave me a false sense of everything's-going-to-be-just-fine-you-won't-miss-home-at-all-because-you're-strong-and-independent-and-brave. Wrong. However, as I'm realizing this, I am also realizing something else...

...revelation number two: I am bold and vivacious and I can be independent and I am certainly sassy, even when I'm six hundred billion miles from home. I might not be all the way there, but I am learning quickly. I am finding encouragement in the small triumphs of everyday life. I feel a sense of pride every time I take the bus somewhere successfully (public transportation is a new thing for me...in Charlevoix I believe there are two taxis, and they don't get much work). I feel a strong sense of accomplishment when I easily find my way to a new location, using a map or not. Most of all, I find immense joy in learning this language and overcoming the language barrier that, until recently, was incredibly daunting and seemed impossible to overcome. But I'm doing it! I am using the conditional tense to politely ask for directions, I am using new vocab to order food and ask questions and help people who ask me questions. I am so proud! I'm doing so well. And this makes me feel all the more bold and independent. The sassy thing, well, I guess I never should have said that I was doubting that I can be sassy. I am very well aware of the fact that I am sassy all the time, even here. I'm sure you all know that well too. 

Let's move on to another of my revelations: family is a precious gift. Of corse I already knew that, but I am realizing it more and more as my family is six hundred billion miles away, but also as new family members make surprise visits in my life. Let me explain. (But first let me preface this story by explaining to you non--Italians out there how the idea of family works in the Italian culture. My mom has a cousin. I've never met her. She's my mysterious second cousin. My mom has another cousin. I've never met her either. She's also an unknown second cousin. My mom has 32,973,524 more cousins. I've never met any of them. They are all unknown, mysterious second cousins. I won't ever meet most of them. But if the day should ever arrive that I do meet them, it is protocol for us to hug and kiss and rejoice like we've just met the Queen and then to spend hours on end together like we're old best friends. So keep all that in mind as I tell you a story...) So my mom's cousin, Bridget, let's call her (because that's her name), owns an Italian restaurant in Ann Arbor and every year her and her husband, Michael, come to Italy with some of their clients. Their goal is to eat and drink their way around one or maybe two cities in Italy. This year was Bologna, with a little rendezvous in Florence for the last few days of the trip. Well, if Bridget was going to be in Florence while I'm here, it would be against the laws of Italian nature for her to not see me. So we met up. I had dinner with Bridget and Michael on Monday and lunch and a walk with them today. It was incredible. Something about family, whether it's your mom or a second cousin who's many years older (but not that many, right Bridget?) who you've never met, is good for your soul. Seeing Bridget and Michael reassured me that I can be far from my family and still be independent and confident and have an amazing time. Their presence renewed my spirit and made me excited for the rest of my trip. It was just what I needed. And since you all have become accustomed to seeing pictures of my life and my people and my adventures, I am including a picture of me and Bridget. It's pretty cute. Good thing I have such long arms, huh Bridge? Tell Michael thanks anyways :)

Finally, I have had one more revelation that I will share with you: Gelato is truly addicting and I need to join gelato addicts anonymous. Do not be alarmed if, when I return, I very much resemble the largest mammal in the world (the one that lives in the sea and eats kelp). I can't bear to say the name of this animal, because I am rapidly becoming one. Good grief. This is disastrous. 

That' all I have for you today. I hope you are all having nice lives. I miss you. I know you miss me too. You don't have to say it. Actually, I don't know if you miss me too. That was a lie. Usually when people miss someone, they tell that person that they miss them and they are thinking about them. However, the only people who have sent me mail (a request I made many moons ago) are my boyfriend and my mother. If you do not love me and do not miss me and do not think about me, please do not send me mail. If you did, you would be a sham. And I would be lured into thinking that you did love/miss/think about me often, and then I would be living a lie. And no one wants that. But I truly hope that there are some of you out there who are reading this blog for more than entertainment purposes and you actually do love/miss...okay you get the point. Send me mail if you love me. Please and thank you. You're wonderful (provided you send me mail). 

Love love love,

me

P.S. This is my shout out to Steph (what up homie?) and Amy (hello dear, how are you?). See you both tomorrow :)

SCIFNTMBWHAGWMHSM

It's time for my first rant.

Why is it that people in Italy feel that they have the right to be passionately, desperately, publicly in love? Especially when I am clearly without eyes to meet, a hand to hold, a lap to sit on, or lips to kiss.

Last night I was at the Duomo waiting to meet up with some friends, and while I was waiting, two young lovers took it upon themselves to sit down not too far from me and make me insanely jealous by playing some rather intense tonsil hockey for 20 minutes. I kid you not. These kids, who were no more than 16 years old, were making out, full force on the steps of the Duomo, one of the most recognized and amazing cathedrals in all the world. Once I got past the shock of what was happening, I grew very irritated. Why is it fair for them to be in love and make out while I am forced to be apart from my boyfriend for four months? Actually, it's not. I should have told them that.

It seems that everyone in this country is in love. People everywhere are holding hands and giggling together and swapping little kisses (or big, long, dramatic kisses) and some are just flat out sucking face. I saw at least six brides walking around the streets of Florence and Cinque Terre in the first three weeks of my time here. It's impossibly romantic and touching. I love being surrounded by all this love. However, it's getting old without someone around to enjoy it with. And by enjoy it with I mean someone to hold hands with and kiss and take pictures in front of the Duomo with.

So that's why I've decided to start a Send-Colin-to-Italy-For-the-Next-Three-Months-to-Be-With-His-Amazing-Girlfriend-Who-Misses-Him-So-Much fund. I'm calling it SCIFNTMBWHAGWMHSM. It's a little lengthy, I know, but I think it really gets the point across well. If you would like to donate (as I'm sure all of you would), you may contact me by sending me an email at sarahmklooster@gmail.com. You may also send donations to me at:

Sarah Klooster
ACM Florence Program
c/o Linguaviva Scuola d'Italiano
Via Fiume 17
50123 Florence
ITALY

Make sure to declare "NO VALUE" or the mean mail people will take your donation and it will not make it to me and that would be horrible. I'm guessing we'll need about $2500-3000 for this to work, so start giving people. We could also call the fund Christmas in September for Sarah and Colin, CSSC. I know you guys will respond to the call with enthusiasm. Thanks. You're amazing. In the meantime, while I wait for the money to start pouring in, I will spend my days trying to avoid those shameless PDA couples who are so effectively making the rest of us unbearably jealous.

Thanks again. Love you all tons and tons. Enough to kiss you all night in front of the Duomo where everyone can see. Well, maybe not all of you, but most of you. Until next time...

xo Sarah

P.S. I told you I would be more diligent about writing to you all. That's two days in a row now! I might even write tomorrow too, if I have something to say. But I don't want to wear myself out, so maybe not. We'll see...

P.P.S. If you would like to view the beautiful couple you are donating to, please refer to the picture at right.

Shamoo's pregnant mother and other assorted things. Enjoy.

Hello! Remember me?

Probably not. I am the girl who writes this blog. My name is Sarah and I am witty and clever and highly entertaining and you all love me very much.

Although you're all probably feeling very hurt and abandoned right now, so you probably don't love me too overwhelmingly much. Sorry about that. BUT--you must realize that, while you are all very lovely people, you are indeed being quite selfish if you think that my life revolves around you. It most certainly does not. It revolves around the food and gelato of this country (and possibly the opportunities of this country, but the food definitely takes precedence), and for the past week, the food (and the opportunities) has been calling me in many different directions thus making it difficult for me to write. Also I've just been pretty nonmotivated and just generally lazy when it comes to writing this. But that's not the point! The point is: I still love your poor little abandoned souls and I would like to beg your forgiveness by presenting you with another enthralling installment in my incredibly fabulous life. So...let's get down to business...

(You don't have to decide if you forgive me or not yet...I will let you wait until the end if you like. That is how much I love you all.)

 I will begin with my rendezvous to Siena and Chianti. SIENA WAS AMAZING. It is a very very old city built upon three hills. That's a very impressive place to build a city, if you ask me. There are many ravines and most of the streets are very steeply inclined up or down or both. Prior to Florence becoming the largest and most powerful city in the Tuscan region/Italy, Siena held the title of bees knees for this region/country. (Well, there was no actual title that proclaimed Siena as the "bees knees" per say, but you get the point. Siena was the cat's pajama's...or possibly his meow...or something very similar. You do see what I'm trying to say right? Of course you do. You really are a very bright bunch. Good thing. It takes a lot to keep up with me sometimes...) Moving on...

...Sienese (not to be confused with siamese) art is very different than Florentine art. The Sienese style of art was all about one thing: being over the top. For all of you who know me (and that is all of you, I presume, unless my blog is so entertaining that I have become famous...hmmm...), that is my kind of art. I am an over the top kind of girl. I believe extravagant is the word. Dramatic also works well. The facade of their church was jam packed with sculptures and decoration; you would be hard-pressed to find a smooth, blank surface that was more than 2 square inches anywhere on the front of that cathedral. It was incredible. (See photo.) And the inside was just as busy and flamboyant, if not more. Even the floors were made of pieces of cut marble pieced together to depict different scenes. I saw my first Donatello (!) and my first Michelangelo (!!!!!) there. Their work is truly awe-inspiring.

We were able to explore the crypts of the cathedral, see all the original altarpieces and statues from the facade in the cathedral museum, and go to the baptistry as well. We also visited the Palazza Pubblica and the town hall building after lunch and before we left. Also amazing and wonderful and incredible, so no surprise there. Then we were on our merry way back to home sweet Florence...but not without a little side venture to the wine tasting festival in the famous Chianti wine region. Yesss! This resulted in me tasting some very good wine, everyone else tasting some very good wine, and many very happy people on the bus ride home.

What a fantastic day. I know.

Now, as much as I know that you all would love to take a while to stop and reflect on how amazing my life is, we do not have time for that. We must press on. As Willy Wonka would say, "We have so much time and so little to do...STOP! Strike that, reverse it." What I'm trying to say is, we don't have time for you to simply sit and marvel at my privileged life. You must do that on your own time. And so we continue....

...Italian class. Italian class is hard. This week we started the conditional tense, which brings us to politely asking questions of strangers, making recommendations, giving advice, and using the passive voice in the Italian language. But I am learning so much everyday, so whatevs. It is totes worth it. (For all you struggling adults out there, that means: ...[whatever]. It is [totally] worth it. You see, in my generation, totally has been conveniently shortened to "totes" or sometimes it is conveniently changed to "totes magotes." Actually, that second one is probably not very convenient, but it is fun to say. But don't say it please if you are too old. It will embarrass us all. And by too old I mean over 25. Thank you.)

...Friends. I have so many new friends. It's fantastic. I love them all. You know who you are. That's all I have to say about friends.

...Food. Let me please tell you about the most delicious food I have ever put into my mouth. It has no name. It was an experiment that Anna (my host momma who I luuuuuurve (for people who haven't read the Georgia Nicholson series, that means love) so so much) made for dinner this past week. You may want to sit down. It is very possible that you will be so busy trying not to drool on yourself while I explain this that you will forget to stand and that could be dangerous. I don't want Anna's cooking to result in any casualties. I'll give you a moment to find a seat............(although I don't know why you would be standing while reading my blog on your computer...still, some of you are rather strange, so, just to be on the safe side, I feel I need to say these kinds of things...)...............are you all sitting now? Oh, hurry up................I don't have all day.................let's go slowpokes!...............are you quite ready? I hope so, because I'm starting. Okay. Here we go. I shall commence with the description. (I am so excited I have butterflies! Really. I am not kidding you all. Anyways...) She started with a crust that she handmade. The crust was flakey and buttery and delicious enough in itself, but wait--it gets better. Inside the crust, she placed heaping amounts of gorgonzola and then within the gorgonzola was a smattering of sliced up pears. She placed the top crust on (in a lattice pattern like a pie, because she is way too cute) and put the whole thing in the oven. And then she cut it up and put it on my plate and I took a bit and fell out of my chair and started crying because it was so good. Well, actually, that's an exaggeration. I did not fall out of my chair or start crying, but I did seriously consider it. In the end, however, it was my burning desire for 60 or 70 more pieces of this delicious concoction that kept me from doing anything but staying at the table right next to the pears/gorgonzola/crust that I promptly fell in love with. And so, the moral of the story is: If you ever want to woo me or win my heart or ask an obnoxiously ridiculous favor of me, I will always say yes if you make me this dish. End of story.

In other news, I have eaten enough gelato in the past week to keep a small family fed for a year. Do not be alarmed if I return to the States looking like Shamoo's pregnant mother. It will be a tragedy for sure, but even the prospect of becoming a whale is not enough to deter me from eating more gelato than I care to tell you all about.

Okay well, I hope I have said enough to redeem myself from the depths of your wrath because I am out of things to say for now. I promise promise promise I will be more reliable and diligent in the future. Do you all still love me? Can you find it in your hearts to forgive me? Pleeeeeeassee? And maybe send me some mail while you're at it...? Thanks. I love you temperamental people. You keep my life interesting. Not that my life isn't already interesting. It is. I'm in Italy for goodness sake. But still. You know what I mean.

It's time for me to go. Dinner is about to be served. And I hate to break it to you all, but when faced with a choice between Anna's cooking and you, I will choose Anna's cooking every time.

Thanks for stopping by. Come again soon. Have a great day.

Arrivederci my little pallys. Love to you all.

xo Sarahhhh