This year, Thursdays consist of class and Cru. Last year, Thursdays consisted of landing in a new city, and every weekend was a new adventure.
This year, I spend Sundays complaining that I have to go back to class. Last year, I spent Sundays complaining that I had to go back to Florence (boo-hoo, I know).
This year, I come home from class and cook spaghetti. Last year, I'd come home from class and cook spaghetti-- but in ITALY, you see.
This year, I'll turn 22 in Bloomington. Last year, I turned 21 in Florence. It was an amazing night: a trip to the ballet, blueberry steak, chianti wine and the best chocolate cake you can imagine. Did I mention that all of this was in Italy?
Over the weekend I caught up with some of the friends that I met while abroad. It was a lot of fun, but the evening had an overtone of sadness as we all admitted that we weren't over Florence. She was a little bit of everything: beautiful, loud, smelly, disgusting, inviting, warm, cold...and we all fell in love. None of us have been able to get over her.
I don't know which I miss more about that time: the big things or the little things. I loved the independence I gained through finding my way around a strange country where I didn't speak the language, but I'll never forget the sense of accomplishment I felt when I got groceries for the first time. Sure, it was incredible to see Michelangelo's David, but it couldn't compare to some of the Tuscan sunsets I witnessed.
This year, I come home from class and cook spaghetti. Last year, I'd come home from class and cook spaghetti-- but in ITALY, you see.
This year, I'll turn 22 in Bloomington. Last year, I turned 21 in Florence. It was an amazing night: a trip to the ballet, blueberry steak, chianti wine and the best chocolate cake you can imagine. Did I mention that all of this was in Italy?
Over the weekend I caught up with some of the friends that I met while abroad. It was a lot of fun, but the evening had an overtone of sadness as we all admitted that we weren't over Florence. She was a little bit of everything: beautiful, loud, smelly, disgusting, inviting, warm, cold...and we all fell in love. None of us have been able to get over her.
I don't know which I miss more about that time: the big things or the little things. I loved the independence I gained through finding my way around a strange country where I didn't speak the language, but I'll never forget the sense of accomplishment I felt when I got groceries for the first time. Sure, it was incredible to see Michelangelo's David, but it couldn't compare to some of the Tuscan sunsets I witnessed.
Don't get me wrong, I love Bloomington in the Fall. It's fantastic. It's great to be back with my friends. And I know that even if I were to go back, it just wouldn't be the same, because it's no longer a new, exciting adventure. I've been there, and I've done that. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't do it all again.
I'll add some pictures later.
1 comment:
blueberry steak??
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