So it's become clear to me that if I'm going to attempt to keep this updated, I'm going to have to treat this like a journal and do it often because there's so much going on here. So this post is my attempt to blitz through.
So, to get up to date, I'm going to have to kinda of skip over the time in DC. Though I will give some shout outs to some non-SAIS friends I made and said bye to: Hey Julie! How's Noodle? Mollie - I expect you to still be waltzing next summer! Carlos - I hope your tango classes are still going when I get back to DC.
Ok, so fast-forwarding to leaving DC. It was a rather strange and sobering experience to have to pack up my life for at least a year into two suitcases. I left most of my "stuff" with a storage facility in DC, and filled up the suitcases with mostly closes and various school related items. Then, one supershuttle ride later I was sitting in the airport with about 10 other Bologna students all talking on our cells to friends/loved ones as if this were some major goodbye. Though for most of us, this is our first time living in another country (and a non-english speaking one at that).
It was nice to make the trek across with the atlantic with some other students, as we talked about what to expect, what made us nervous, etc. The plane ride was really the calm before the storm though, because as soon as we hit the ground things got crazy. Everyone booked it from the airport to the school to sign up for housing, because the best places notoriously go fast (luckily I found my place without help and didn't have to go that route).
Two poor people who were on the plane with me weren't able to find a place that night, so they stayed on my couches (my italian roommates were, and still are, on vacation).
After dropping our friggin heavy and enormous bags off, we all went wandering for dinner. I'm sure we just screamed american as a group of about 20 of us wandered through the streets speaking in loud english.
The first dinner was very italian. We all got our own pizzas, and the group ordered a big bottle of wine (though I had coke, which is way better than in the States because they use real sugar and not high fructose corn syrup).
The next day I started Macroeconomics class (how crazy a turnaround), and got a list of all these errands I needed to run to satisfy the Italian bureaucracy. I managed to take care of a lot of the list, and got an Italian cell phone (and my first of many gelatos). That evening, I had my first lasagna bolognese, while sitting in a little cafe next to the main piazza.
The weekend was also anything but restful. On saturday I went to the school library to continue with some Italy-errands, and helped the two people who were on my couch to move into their real apartments (one clear across the entire city - so we dragged big 'ol suitcases through the streets). In the evening, a small group of us got together and made a dinner of spaghetti and sausage (and somehow I got designated chef, which is a depressing thought).
On Sunday, I made my first trek out to the local Ikea, which was a 5 euro, 30 minute bus trip away. Sadly, my room did not come with sheets for my bed, so for the first couple nights I had been sleeping on random blankets I found around the apartment. Ikea came through though, and now my little twin bed is sleep-able. In the evening, I went with another group of people to a town called Ferrara, which was about a 30 minute train ride to the northeast towards Venice.
The city was having a "busker" festival, which meant that the city was covered in various streets performers, from music, to magic, to dance to some really weird stuff. We all got big gelato cones and walked around and admired the various acts before hoofing it back to the train station. In a little bit of criminality (I suppose), we got on the train back to Bologna without buying a ticket because the ticket machine was broken and they didn't have any windows. Thankfully, nobody noticed.
In a random bit of serendipity, I happened to sit across from an english and spanish speaking salsa dancer who gave me his email address and said he'd send me a bunch of info about places to go in Bologna - so I may be able to branch out my social life beyond the school soon.
Then today (we're almost at the end!), I took my placement test for Italian (which starts tomorrow), sat through my second macro class, and in the best/most random event, met a girl who was a former national ballrom dance champion in Poland. We decided it would be fun to host some dance classes for the student body, so tomorrow we're going to make a pilgrimage around the city to try and find a location.
Phew! That's the light speed update. I've left out a ton of stuff, and hardly mentioned any people at all (who really are the best part so far of the experience). But I figure, now that I'm up to date, future posts can and will be more detailed.
Now, off to do some macro and italian homework!
Ciao!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Keep Crankin Em Out
This - three posts in an hour - is definitely not going to be the norm. I'm just feeling the need to bring blog up to date on life.
So, when we last left our protagonist, he/I was starting a search for something completely mysterious (and possibly even non-existent). But, he still started.
Skipping the probably necessary back-story to this (maybe I'll have a "flashback" post at some point), the primary vehicle for my search is/will be the pursuit of a Masters Degree in International Relations from the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies (hereafter SAIS).
After packing up my way-too-much stuff into a Durango, I drove (with my dad - thanks again dad!) from New York City down to Washington, DC to begin the program. Side note - moving sucks. And second side note - f**k you hotel vending machine, I didn't want mountain dew when I pressed the pepsi button, and I didn't want mountain dew when I pressed the water button. Sorry. Random thoughts are going to be a regular occurrence here.
So I get down to DC and move into my one-month sublet so I can take one class - Intermediate Microeconomics - and get slowly re-acclimated (in my head that's being pronounced ack-lime-ated for some reason) to the school lifestyle.
On the whole, I'd have to give the month in DC a 6 out of 10. The relatively low score is mostly due to the fact that it there was never any sense of permanence. It was very clear that it was only a month, and then I would be moving to Italy where the full program would actually begin. As a result, I made a couple potentially really good friends that I now won't see for a year, which for an introvert like myself, really sucks.
Still, the flipside of that coin is that I did get myself to be more social than is my norm, which was/is one of my major goals for the coming years.
Side note - I don't think extroverts realize how difficult/how much energy it takes for some of us introverts to be regularly social. It's exhausting. But dammit, I'm going to try.
Back to the story, I went out dancing nearly 3-4 times a week because I've found that for whatever reason, I'm much more comfortable being out when there's an activity involved that's not just drinking. Dance is fun and a useful skill, and something I feel ok just showing up to by myself, so that became my main social activity.
Side note - I also think I got hit on (at a salsa dance) for what might have been the first time in my life (or maybe it wasn't and I'm just incredibly dense). It was simultaneously flattering and anxiety filled as suddenly there became another pressure-filled level to the conversation. As someone who has only ever been in one (only recently ended) real relationship (that was preceded by three plus years of friendship), the whole idea of "dating" is terrifying.
Ok - I ran out of steam. Month in DC is now to be continued. And sheesh, I apparently love (parenthetical) statements.
So, when we last left our protagonist, he/I was starting a search for something completely mysterious (and possibly even non-existent). But, he still started.
Skipping the probably necessary back-story to this (maybe I'll have a "flashback" post at some point), the primary vehicle for my search is/will be the pursuit of a Masters Degree in International Relations from the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies (hereafter SAIS).
After packing up my way-too-much stuff into a Durango, I drove (with my dad - thanks again dad!) from New York City down to Washington, DC to begin the program. Side note - moving sucks. And second side note - f**k you hotel vending machine, I didn't want mountain dew when I pressed the pepsi button, and I didn't want mountain dew when I pressed the water button. Sorry. Random thoughts are going to be a regular occurrence here.
So I get down to DC and move into my one-month sublet so I can take one class - Intermediate Microeconomics - and get slowly re-acclimated (in my head that's being pronounced ack-lime-ated for some reason) to the school lifestyle.
On the whole, I'd have to give the month in DC a 6 out of 10. The relatively low score is mostly due to the fact that it there was never any sense of permanence. It was very clear that it was only a month, and then I would be moving to Italy where the full program would actually begin. As a result, I made a couple potentially really good friends that I now won't see for a year, which for an introvert like myself, really sucks.
Still, the flipside of that coin is that I did get myself to be more social than is my norm, which was/is one of my major goals for the coming years.
Side note - I don't think extroverts realize how difficult/how much energy it takes for some of us introverts to be regularly social. It's exhausting. But dammit, I'm going to try.
Back to the story, I went out dancing nearly 3-4 times a week because I've found that for whatever reason, I'm much more comfortable being out when there's an activity involved that's not just drinking. Dance is fun and a useful skill, and something I feel ok just showing up to by myself, so that became my main social activity.
Side note - I also think I got hit on (at a salsa dance) for what might have been the first time in my life (or maybe it wasn't and I'm just incredibly dense). It was simultaneously flattering and anxiety filled as suddenly there became another pressure-filled level to the conversation. As someone who has only ever been in one (only recently ended) real relationship (that was preceded by three plus years of friendship), the whole idea of "dating" is terrifying.
Ok - I ran out of steam. Month in DC is now to be continued. And sheesh, I apparently love (parenthetical) statements.
Previously on Finding 42...
So, it is currently the morning of Saturday, August 29th 2009. I am in the early stages of a new chapter of my life. We'll call this chapter 4 -the Undiscovered Country (both perfectly relevant AND a Star Trek reference, though Star Wars is still better).
In the spirit of the "previously on" segments at the beginnings of TV shows, here's the quick get-up-to-speed story of recent events:
I don't claim it to be a unique story. It's actually the same old "something's missing" story that everyone has told or lived at some point. I had a pretty good life going. Good job, great girl, decent apartment, really comfortable bed, new member of a fun salsa dance company. But while things seemed (and often felt) fine on the outside, I'd begun to have a nagging feeling that I was stuck. I'd often catch myself wondering, "Is this the life I want?"
This was a serious question, as I could definitely (www.d-e-f-i-n-i-t-e-l-y.com people!) see that life becoming my life for the rest of my life. It was a comfortable path, one that I am sure is being contently lived by some parallel me in some parallel universe. But at the same time, it felt too comfortable. Whether I was living this life by choice or by inertia was debatable. There were days I had trouble looking at myself in the mirror, as if I was trying to avoid the gaze of the person on the other side. I could probably write, and no one would read, a book on all the fights I had with myself about this subject, but suffice to say I made the decision, for better or worse, to give that life up in search of something else.
What exactly this something is I have no idea. And how exactly do you go about looking for something when you don't even know what you're looking for? I guess you just start.
In the spirit of the "previously on" segments at the beginnings of TV shows, here's the quick get-up-to-speed story of recent events:
I don't claim it to be a unique story. It's actually the same old "something's missing" story that everyone has told or lived at some point. I had a pretty good life going. Good job, great girl, decent apartment, really comfortable bed, new member of a fun salsa dance company. But while things seemed (and often felt) fine on the outside, I'd begun to have a nagging feeling that I was stuck. I'd often catch myself wondering, "Is this the life I want?"
This was a serious question, as I could definitely (www.d-e-f-i-n-i-t-e-l-y.com people!) see that life becoming my life for the rest of my life. It was a comfortable path, one that I am sure is being contently lived by some parallel me in some parallel universe. But at the same time, it felt too comfortable. Whether I was living this life by choice or by inertia was debatable. There were days I had trouble looking at myself in the mirror, as if I was trying to avoid the gaze of the person on the other side. I could probably write, and no one would read, a book on all the fights I had with myself about this subject, but suffice to say I made the decision, for better or worse, to give that life up in search of something else.
What exactly this something is I have no idea. And how exactly do you go about looking for something when you don't even know what you're looking for? I guess you just start.
Inaugural Post
So I've finally gotten around to attempting to create a blog. I'm not sure how often I will be updating, but I will try to as much as possible (for my own memories' sake). This will be my place to catalog and share the hopefully wide variety of experiences and ideas that await me in the years to come.
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