Be IN! Coffee = INspiration. Books = INformation. Beer = INtentional Enjoyment.
“How old are you?”
pause
“Sorry. That might be rude… but I was just wondering.”
With a genuine smile I say: “No, it’s fine. How old do you think I am?”
“25. 26?”
I laugh out a “thank you.”
“Younger or older?”
Very surprised laughter now, “I’m even more flattered by that question. Older… by a good bit.”
“Really?”
“I’m 33.”
“Wow. You don’t look it.”
“Thanks.”
I have always had four great regrets from my 3.5 years as an undergraduate student.
I know, I know: “No regrets!” Right?
It is disingenuous at best to say that we don’t earnestly regret some of our choices. [Read more…]
From the time I touched down in Florence I was craving a salad.
Almost 24 hours of travel means a great deal of road food and none of it particularly good.
I needed veggies. Stat.
After finding my apartment and getting slightly acquainted with my new home, I went to the little bistro downstairs to enjoy some WiFi and my first Florentine meal. The salad was ample and my body was thankful.
Knowing the craving would return, though, I set off for the market. With my ridiculously little Italian, I thought it would be quite the adventure.
Grateful, overwhelmed, thankful, pleased, overjoyed, awed, inspired… settled.
It is day 3.
Actually only full day number 2. Already I feel comfortable and snug in this — my — foreign town.
I realize I have only barely begun my journey here. Moments abound where I am truly IN and overcome with the exceptionality of my experience… and then the boot and I just keep stepping along stone streets enjoying the journey to our destination like normal.
A little fatigued but no jet lag.
A little misty about friends far away but no homesickness.
A little awkwardness but no fear.
New and familiar at the same time.
I have spoken before about having an immediate reaction to a city and, well, I just sorta skipped over the part where it was a question of liking it or not. Perhaps it is that I already knew I would be here for a year and I fear I am jinxing it — gratitude, gratitude, gratitude — but I simply glided into Florence and nested.
It is profoundly unbelievable to me that my next post will come from Florence, Italy.
I look at that sentence and the words just start to lose their meaning. It is as if it is a story I am reading about someone else instead of a sentence happening to me.
Inconceivable!
“I do not think that word means what you think it means.”
Oh, but it does. I can’t wrap my mind around the idea that I’ll be living abroad in 4 days… until faced with the realities of saying goodbye.
It is coming in waves. They break faster now as my time gets shorter.
I had to hug my brothers for the last time before departure the weekend and one hit me broadside. Dan said, “you’re still not good at goodbyes…” Nope. I get chocked up just thinking about the moment. No. I’m still not good at goodbyes. My brain absolutely short circuits when I think about kissing Little Miss for the last time.
Bidding farewell to those that we love shouldn’t be easy should it?
Saying sinara to stuff is one thing. To let go of people and face the reality of being a half a world away from them — that is something else entirely.
a·bout /əˈbout
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