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

I don't have a title for this one.

My plans for the day are dead.

I was planning on walking around and exploring the city and taking tons of pictures. I need more practice with Bartolomeo (my camera). Bart is treating me well, but I still have lots to learn. However, the weather is absolutely not cooperating. The day was sunny and beautiful until about 45 minutes ago. Adesso, sta piovuto (now, it's raining). Boooo!

Ah well, I will still be making the best out of my day. Maybe I will go for a walk without good old Bart. Tomorrow will be a big day for him anyways as I am taking my first trip to the Uffizi and possibly the Galleria dell'Accademia. I'm so excited I might pee. Not pee my pants, just pee in general. That's real excitement for you.

Today I may explore for a bit before dinner and then after dinner I am heading into al centro (the center of town) to get gelato at Grom, the best gelato place I have found yet. This gelato is literally the most amazing thing you can imagine. I have no words for it. Sorry.

I have been making some amazing friends here. God has placed some truly wonderful people in my life already. Just today I was stressed out about a sick family member and one of my new friends held my hand and prayed for me and my aunt while we were walking down the sidewalk in the midst of a hoard of people. She is so incredible. It made my whole day better; it refreshed my faith and gave me a sense of peace and calm and since then this has been one of my best days so far. Grazie Valerie! You are super fab!

I can't wait to see how my friendships with these new people will grow and develop over the next three months. It's going to be GRRRREEEEAAATTTTT! (I hope someone caught my channeling of Tony the Tiger there. It was very intentional. I am missing Frosted Flakes these days. As well as Taco Bell, but that's another story for another time.)

Meanwhile, or mentre, as the Italians say, I am learning TONS. My Italian is improving in leaps and bounds and that makes me very happy. I am not, however, fluent yet which irritates me. I really wish I were Professor Agheana's secret twin and was a language genius. That would be very convenient right now. Alas, I am not in any way related to Professor Agheana and so I therefore cannot speak the Italian language well, let alone 7 other languages along with it. But I'm getting there. Fluency in the Italian language is within sight, which is a very exciting prospect for me. Soon I will be able to say whatever I want to my Italian momma, Anna. I will tell her her cooking is fabulous and she is my favorite and I love her very much. But for now I'll stick with basic phrases and charade-like scenarios in which my acting skills are put to the test while I try to piece together sentences. I'm so classy, as per usual, of course :)

Okay care mie (my dears), I hope you are all having fabulous lives and that you all enjoy this fine day. I would love to hear from some of you. Facebook me, email me (sarahmklooster@gmail.com), send me a letter (see last post), skype me, come visit me, whatever you like. If any of you choose to come visit, you are welcome to join me on my trip to Siena on Saturday. My program group is going for the day and then on our way home we will be stopping in Chianti for a wine festival. Let me know if you would like to come. It will be grand. Otherwise I will write another post soon about how wonderful Siena is (because I'm sure it will be meraviglioso (marvelous) and bella (beautiful)) and about how fantastic the wine in Chianti is (because I'm sure it will be gustoso (tasty) and delizioso (delicious)...what are appropriate words to use to describe wine...? I guess I'll find out this weekend. I'll let you know.).

Ciao ragazzi (Bye guys.). Vi amo tutti (I love you all.).

P.S. The girls in the picture are my new friends Amy (who is part of the ACM program with me and who I LOVE) and Valerie (who goes to Rutgers University and is here with eight other kids from Rutgers and who I also LOVE). Photo credit goes to Vittoriana (who is also part of the Rutgers group and who I also also LOVE). My new friends. They're my favorite.

P.S.S. You're welcome for all the Italian lessons I have been surreptitiously giving you. I should charge you all. But I won't because I love you all that much.

P.S.S.S. The piove (rain) has stopped. Maybe Bart will get to see the outside world today. Ole! (That's Spanish but you get the point.) Arrivederci! (That's Italian and it means goodbye!)

MAIL? PLEASE AND THANK YOU :)

P.S. I got my address and I was thinking that you should all send me some mail :)

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

Make sure to declare NO VALUE or it will cost you lots of moneeeyyy.

I'm expecting mail by next week you all. Pip pip! Chop chop! Get on that my loves. Thanks! You're all so fab! :)

haha

Paper lanterns, cell phones, and mopeds. What else do you need in life? Nothing at all.

Ciao care,

I hope all is well in the real world where dreams do not come true. Here in dreamland, things are super fabulous. Tonight is Festa della Rificologne (festival of the paper lanterns). It is a festival that is specific to Florence and has existed forever. Well, not forever, but for a ridiculously long time, like everything here. Basically it started when the farmers would come down into the city from their homes for a big market that took place on September 8th. They wanted to get a good spot to set up their booths in the piazza because the money they made at this market would support them ALL winter, so they would pack up their stuff and leave in the middle of the night the night before. In order to see the path at night, they carried paper lanterns attached to poles. The local Florentine children (all of whom were very rich because everyone who lived in Florence then was very very rich compared to the mountain and village folk from the surrounding areas) would make fun of the ragged clothes that the farmers and their families wore and they would mock their lanterns by making their own and walking behind the processional singing mocking songs and ditties. (To this day in Florence they still call people who dress poorly a "rificologne.") The children's making of lanterns and parading around the city with them became a tradition which continued even after the market ceased to take place. Now it is known as Festa della Rificologne, a festival that takes place on the night of September 7th and the morning of September 8th. 

Sorry for all these history lessons I've been giving you all, but I'm learning so much about the culture and traditions and history of this country and this city and these people and it's all so fascinating. Their culture is so beautiful and unique. I've heard the paper lanterns that the children carry in the parade are absolutely beautiful. I'm so excited to see them!

In other news, it is also the 21st birthday of one of my new friends, so we're going to go out for a little bit and celebrate. I'm meeting up with a few people to watch the parade and then meeting up with other people later to go out. So many new friends!! Tonight is going to be a good night. (That song is actually playing on my iTunes right now. I kid you not. Wow. It really is going to be a good night. Fab!)

In other other news, I have explored the cell phone that I got last week and have come to the conclusion that it is hilariously crappy, but that it also has the most brilliant "tool" I have ever heard of. And by the most brilliant tool I have ever heard of, I mean it has a function that is in the tools folder on the phone and is called "fake call." Basically you can set an alarm which, when it goes off, will call you therefore enabling you to get out of something. For example, if you were to go on a date that you were worried would suck or that you didn't really want to be on, you could turn this on and your phone would call you at whatever time you told it to, you could answer it, pretend something urgent had come up, and leave hurriedly. And you plug in a number or a contact who will be the person that will then "call" you. So there's no embarrassing my-phone-rang-in-my-ear-while-I-was-desperately-pretending-to-be-on-it moment. The call also shows up in your received calls folder, so if they don't believe you, you can show them the call on you phone and (falsely) prove that someone actually did call you. The Italians truly are a very ingenious bunch. Gotta love 'em :)

Finally, I have one more thing to add to the 10 Things I Love Most about Italy list (thus making it the 11 Things I Love Most about Italy list), and it is this:

11. The moped culture here. There are women in 4 inch heels and skirts who cut off the busses fearlessly on their way to work. There are men who are in gorgeous Italian suits who fly by with their ties flapping in the wind over their shoulders. There are cute boys who wink as they drive by. They are all so aggressive and don't obey the rules of the road AT ALL. They drive between lanes to pass busses and cars and at stop lights they all make their way to the front of the traffic so that when a light turns green, one or two thousand mopeds speed off before any of the cars or busses. They are truly fearless people. They are so smooth and skilled. It's fascinating to watch. I'm very envious of their obvious talent, actually. Maybe one day a gorgeous Italian man will pull me on to the back of his as he drives by...I should only be so lucky...

Until next time my chumly wumlies. Love you all!

10 Misses and Loves

As you can guess, this is a post about the 10 things I miss most about America and the 10 things I love most about Italy.

10 Misses:
1. Carpet (yes, carpet is at the top of the list).
2. Colin (naturally).

3. Mia famiglia (see photo at right).
4. Dogs that understand and obey commands in English, commands such as "stop licking my feet."
5. An excess of public restrooms.
6. "Normal time,"as Steph would say (as compared to military time).
7. Being able to say a sentence to someone without first looking up all but three of the words in a dictionary.
8. FRESH water. As in not salt water, which will give you high cholesterol if you accidentally swallow too much because you jump in with your mouth open because you forgot it was not fresh water.
9. Grapes without seeds (I hope grape vines don't start growing out of my stomach).
10. Taco Bell (I can't help it...I'm addicted).

10 Loves:
1. Fresh bread from the market at break time.
2. Wine with lunch.
3. Hearing "bellisima!" every time I walk by an Italian man (who doesn't love that?).
4. Seeing impossibly beautiful, incredibly old buildings every way you look (churches, houses, palaces, everything is beautiful).
5. The shoes. I've yet to see any Italian, young or old, male or female, with ugly shoes on their feet. I kid you not.
6. The mountains in the distance.
7. The food. Let's be honest, what is better than legitimate Italian food? Nothing is the answer you are searching (not very far) for.
8. Anna, mia momma.
9. New friends!!
10. The language. It's hard and I am frustrated and impatient, but it is the most beautiful language I've ever heard.

A week in the life...

Ciao miei amici Americani!

It has been one week and two days since I first set foot on Florentine soil. In some ways, those nine days have been one of the shortest of my life, and in some ways, they have been the longest.

I have done so much and been so busy. Between getting my permiso (which allows me to legally live in Florence while I am studying…a good thing to have), meeting and moving with my host family, learning how the bus system works, and trying to keep up in Italian 2, it has been hard to find time even to sleep. Well, that’s a lie (slightly). I have actually slept super well since I moved in with Anna (my host mom!) and her family (Agata, her daughter, and Andrea, her son, yes son, who are both in university as well as her mother, who is to be called nonna who walks around the house mumbling and says Bella! Bella! Bellisima! every time Leslie or I walk into the room). I’ve probably been sleeping so well since I’ve been so busy, but it’s time to move on from the sleeping thing. You don’t care if I’ve been sleeping well or not. You want to hear about ITALY! So Italy I will tell you about…

Italy is still amazing. The food continues to tempt me into obesity, the buildings continue to astound me with their beauty and history, the language continues to challenge me and push me to learn more because it is so beautiful, everything in this country continues to make my eyes wide with awe. On Tuesday Jodi (our program director) took us on a brief walking tour of Florence. We took a bus up to la Chiesa di San Miniato and then walked back to the hotel from there. San Miniato is just outside the old city walls and provides amazing panoramic views of the city (as shown in the picture above). La Chiesa di San Miniato is the oldest building in the city. Construction on it began in the middle of the 11^th century. It was built in honor of San Miniato, who was a martyr for the faith and who, after being beheaded carried his own head to the top of a hill where he finally was laid to rest. Strange, I know. But it is a beautiful Romanesque style granite building with mosaics both inside and out. It is very unique because it combines several different architectural styles from regions all over the eastern world (sorry, I have to throw in a little art history lesson somewhere…I mean, that is the reason I am here).

Once we had a lecture about the church and saw the whole inside, we started our descent into the city. Once we got down to the city, we made our way to Fiume Arno (the river that runs through the city) and walked along it until we reached Ponte Vecchio. We crossed to the other side while looking at the very temptingly displayed (and very highly priced) fine jewelry. After getting across the river, we headed towards the Uffizi and walked past it into Piazza della Signorina. This is the famous piazza that is right outside Palazza Vecchio and that houses all of the statues of Perceus and Zeus and all those guys. I took TONS of pictures, which I promise to edit and put on facebook soon. Actually, I think I already did. I don’t remember. Struggles? Me? Never.

Moving on…Saturday (yesterday) was the best day of my life. Linguaviva (the school I’m taking Italian at) chartered a bus to Cinque Terre. Everyone go there. Now. It is legitimately the most beautiful place I have ever experienced. Cinque Terre means “five lands” and so, naturally, Cinque Terre is made up of five cities that are nestled into the sides of mountains and have cliffs that drop down into the ocean. And yes, it is every bit as amazing as it sounds. We walked between a few of the cities, not all of them, and had lunch, swam in the Mediterranean, drank some wine, ate some gelato, all those Italian things that Italian people do. It was glorious. I made new friends (hurray!!!) and so I spent the day with them. Chiara is from Sweden, Charlotte is from Holland (the country, not the city all you Hope people are currently in). Geraldine is from some northern European country (I can’t remember), Arne is from Sweden, Gai is from Israel, Bruno is from Brazil, and then Mike is from Aspen and Marco is from San Fransisco. Pretty diverse group of people, huh? But they are all so wonderful. And Elisabetta, the Linguaviva teacher who went with us and was our tour guide, is my favorite person in the whole world. She makes sound effects when she talks and uses tons of those ever-present Italian gestures and she is basically just out of control. I believe at one point she suggested drinking Absolut Vodka while we were jumping off the cliffs into the Mediterranean. Not like, right before or after we jumped, during our jump. Like make a toast as you’re flying through the air towards the water. But she was kidding. I think.

In Cinque Terre, we walked down Via dell’Amore. The street of love. It was terribly romantic. People had graffitied all the walls (it was like a tunnel that ran right along the ocean on one side and had legit mountain rising up a hundred feet or more on the other side) with their names and their anniversaries and words like amore (love) and sempre (always) and other such words that have to do with eternal love. This is also the place where people get locks and lock them to the fence or the conveniently placed gates and then they throw the key into the ocean which signifies that they will love each other forever. Incredibly romantic. There were thousands of locks. Maybe Colin and I will get to do that when he comes (awwww!!!).

Anyways, the perfect way to top of the perfect day is to go out with some good friends. Can I get an Amen! What? That was weird. Sorry. So, getting back on track…last night after returning from Cinque Terre I had one of the best meals Anna has cooked yet: pot roast and rice and cucumber and tomato salad. It was delicious. Then I showered and got ready for a big night out on the town. I met up with all my new friends at the Duomo and we bought a couple bottles of wine and went to sit and drink them in the grassy area outside of Santa Maria Novella. We just chatted and hung out. A few of the girls got bored so they made us go walk around. We wandered for far too long before I decided that I wanted to go home. I really didn’t want to pay for a cab, so Mike (from Aspen) and Arne (from Sweden) agreed to walk me back to my house. It was quite the adventure. We got lost several times and realized that when you get lost, a half hour walk becomes an hour and a half walk. Whoops. But we did get here eventually and I went to bed pretty early (about 1:30) and got ELEVEN hours of sleep, praise the Lord. I desperately needed that sleep.

Now that I am rested and happy and loving this country even more than I did two days ago, I am spending some time writing to you, you lucky dogs. Today I need to go to the supermercato (supermarket) and buy food so that I can pack lunches for school this week and stop spending money. I also need to prepare for the presentation I have in class tomorrow. It should be big fun. I hope you all are well and happy. I hope America is fabulous. I know Italy is :)

I love you all!

A pronto!