Willful Suspension of Disbelief.

Growing up, I had this bizarre fascination with spies.
Fueled by movies like Harriet the Spy and probably something starring the Olsen twins, I was convinced that I too, would one day be a super, top-secret spy.

Unfortunately, these dreams never went further than listening to my sister's phone conversations and a few scribbles in a black and white composition notebook. (Like Harriet, herself.)

But while I was in my spying prime, I would snoop around the neighborhood and create stories about our villainous neighbors. We lived on a fairly quiet culdesac, but I was convinced it was full of murderers, thieves and crooks. (However, it was mostly teachers, pastors and nurses.)

The thing is, even though we lived on such a small street, I never really knew my neighbors. It wasn't the, "Hey, can I borrow a cup of sugar?" type of setting. We all kind of kept to ourself, while waving jovially if we ever passed one another on the street.

Except for that one time, my sister and I were spying on our next-door neighbors/local lesbians. We realized that we could see right into their living room from ours...which then caused them to buy new blinds, that cover their entire window.

This is my neighborhood. I have lived here nearly my entire life. I have seen families move in and out. (Including the husband of our next-door neighbor, during those awkward, pre-lesbian years.)

Recently, a new family has taken residence across the street. They seemED friendly enough.
A few potted plants...decorative flag...the works.

Until one evening, they put this little gem on Drew's car when he mistakenly parked near their house.



In case you can't read it...(because I hastily took/uploaded this picture about 60 seconds ago) it says, "Hi there We would appreciate it if you would Not park your car in front of our house Thanks"

First of all, has no one heard of ending punctuation?
!.? Pick one.
Also, what's up with the random Capitalization of letters?

These capitalists literally moved in A MONTH ago.
Who do they think they are?
Don't they realize there's a pecking order?

We have been living in this house for nearly 16 years, and they have the audacity to put this cheap, legal pad, grammatically incorrect crap on my friendboy's car!?

Who even uses legal pads anymore?

Also, I never ONCE left a note on their black Saturn Vue, when they parked NOT ONLY in front of our house, but in the VERY spot I park my car EVERYDAY. (Forcing me to park elsewhere, TWICE.)

No one ever parks in front of their house.
It was late and that was the most convenient spot, seeing as he didn't stay for very long.

What is happening to the neighborhood!?!

I'll tell you one thing, you can bet your bottom dollar that I am saving that note, so that way...if they park their car anywhere near our house, I can return it to it's rightful owner.

Or I might just put it on one of the cars sitting in their driveway...just for kicks & giggs.

5 Years Time.

Sometimes my very funny mother (who still doesn't know how to work the DVD player) will text me from her very fancy iPhone (which I'm convinced she only bought to play Words With Friends).

Here's an example:
Mum: Sup?
Me: Chillin, you?
Mum: Chillazin'
Me: I don't even know what that means.
Mum: It's a cross between chilling and relaxing - I learned it in the hood.
Me: I see. However, you wrote "chillazin."
Mum: Haha...we misspelled a lot in the hood, also.

THIS IS WHAT I WILL BE LEAVING BEHIND FOR FOUR MONTHS, PEOPLE!
Did I mention I won't have a cell phone while I scurry about Europe?
Completely disconnected.
And while that might be mega-hip and alternative, I like getting the occasional "sup" text from my mama.

2 weeks and 2 days...and I couldn't be more nervous/scared/excited/sad/ecstatic.
I think I might throw up from the overboard of emotions.
My heart can't handle feeling anything more than passive bliss.

And I'll be honest...I'm a little sad about leaving behind this face.


And this face too...


Ugh...I'm such a sap.
I promise I won't be getting one of those "I Heart My Tortoise" tees.
(I'll try not to, at least.)

I'll be honest though, I am all kinds of freaked out.
The program director keeps us up-to-date with semi-weekly emails and every time I get one, my heart flutters a little...mostly in excitement, but a little fear, as well.

Also, my roommate started a facebook group, so all of us could get to know each other.
Basically, it's 5 (I think) different schools, coming together to study. It's more of a program than an actual campus, and I'll be living about an hour east of Rome.
There's only 25 (again, I think) students all together. Yeah. 25.
Oh yeah and it's all girls.

ANYWAY. It's been fun getting to kinda, sorta know them and see what led them to making the decision to study in Italy.
For the most part, they're all art students...and by art students, I mean super crazy creative, artsy, geniuses, and all other adjectives that equate to brilliance.
Like...way cooler than me.

Don't get me wrong, I'll be the first to say I'm cool.
Ego practically oozes out of my pores.
But I can get away with it, because I'm decently funny and awkwardly built, so I can't help but be awesome.

But these people are on a whole new level. I'm at the kids' table, while they are discussing Bukowski over a glass of Pinot Noir. (Which I know a lot about after having watched Sideways with my sister.)
They've probably already traipsed across Europe, while I live in a less than glamorous city where the streets are named after deceased country stars...I wish I was making this up.

And let's talk about the professors.
Most of my professors from APU either didn't really know who I was (even in a class of 8, and yes, I was in a class with only 8 people).
Some were semi-tickled by my brilliance, but for the most part, I tried to stay under the radar.

I know very little about my future professors in Italy, but judging from their emails, I'm gonna guess they don't spend their Tuesday afternoons watching Real Housewives of New York City drinking Dr. Pepper and eating Twizzlers. (Actually, today I watched Bizarre ER, which was less bizarre than one would expect. So someone bit your ear off, get over it. While eating lime chips and drinking diet, mixed berry flavored green tea.)

Honestly, I can't even tell what he's saying in half the emails.
For example, in one message, which I'm gonna assume was explaining the books I would need to purchase for my class on Dante (I've never been more intimidated by 3 books in my life...), he began explaining the mystery and passion of the written word on the hearts and eyes of those who explore and feel the pages...or something like that.

I don't even know.
The whole time I was thinking, "I know he's trying to say something to me. I just know it!"

These emails are like pieces of abstract art.
Up close, they are just a bunch of pretty words, but once you back up, you begin to see sentences and then you see that you're supposed to buy Inferno and Paradise...and one more that I can't remember.

And they use words like ubiquitous!
Which I still can't remember the meaning of.
And I know it's gonna come up...someone's gonna say something like, "The ubiquity of Oprah (it would appear that I really have a problem with her...) and all the other evils in the world..."

And I would just have to sit there, "Oh...yeah. So freakin' ubiquitous."

Anyway, I know I'm over-thinking it.
I just get so nervous, that I feel like I might throw up.
(And they just started hammering knees on Bizarre ER, so perhaps I really will throw up.)

But what if they don't like me? (Well that's just crazy talk, because who wouldn't like THIS.)
What if they bring up the Invasion of Normandy?
What if they laugh at my crappy Italian? (I WISH I had enough Italian to even be considered crappy.)
What if I hate it?
What If I forget something?
What If I run out of money?
What if my tortoise moves on to a better family?
What if my family moves on to a better family?
What if someone bites my ear off?
What if Oprah reads this and banishes me from Earth? (You know she could do that.)

What am I saying? I'm 20! I'm supposed to be going on wild adventures and living off the spare change I find at the bottom of the dryer. Even Paul says so.



I couldn't be more blessed to have the opportunity to go on this adventure! However, I reserve the right to be all kinds of freaked out.

Peaceful, The World Lays Me Down.

I did it.
I broke down and bought a camera.
I now plan on pursuing a career in photography. I'll start with babies in potted plants. (Yuck. I will never subject my children to this. I believe these very pictures are a direct link to the recession...and the rapture...and I'm sure Oprah's involved somehow.)
But I do plan on recording my semester abroad...so get pumped.


Here's the turtle pin my roommate gave me! Sadly, I lost it the very day I took this picture. I like to think that some other person will find him though and perhaps, they'll be best friends. (Most likely, he'll get eaten alive by a lawn mower. Classic golf courses.) These were all things in my purse, so also in the picture, is my phone, a bracelet I won, the pick of the week from Starbucks, a bouncy ball I purchased for a quarter, cold medicine, I think I even see a deck of cards...what am I doing with all this crap?


Actual turtle (well, tortoise) and actual boyfriend. And yes, Spartacus did try to bite his finger. (Spartacus is the tortoise, not my boyfriend. It's a common misconception.)


Here are some of my favorite people in the world. We were visiting Jill's new apartment. Little did we know, we were also visiting the thousands of ants that had moved in, as well.


So we decided to move outside.

(Drew hates this.) Finally, here's said boyfriend holding my jubilee of saints necklace. I'm not Catholic, but my sister gave me a St. Christopher, Luke and Francis pendant...I wasn't sure which one to wear, so I figured better be safe than sorry and wear them all! I wear this necklace everyday and it's one of my favorite things in the world, hearing those little charms clink against one another. I can't tell you what each saint represents, but the necklace is very special to me.

So that's my weekend in a nutshell.