there's no crying in business class

I can’t believe I'm sitting in the JFK airport writing this post…because that means it’s over. Some of the best months of my life have come to a conclusion so very much the way they started. I arrived to and departed from Venice in fog so thick the water taxis could barely navigate. I was as anxious to come in the first place as I was to leave. I had to contend with hundreds of pounds of baggage. My first and last official meals in Venice were with all 19 of my housemates at our favorite restaurant. I had to say some incredibly difficult goodbyes in order to leave for Venice and some even harder ones when it was time to leave from the city. And just like I left something in the Charlotte airport on the way there (my favorite black perfectly fitted cardigan), I left something in the Venice airport on my way back (this time a little bit of me). But like the post says, there’s no crying in business class : )

It was, without a doubt, harder to leave this time. That’s not to say I hated my first group or experience at Casa Artom—if that were true, I never would have returned. But, this was just a completely different semester thanks to both David and the group he compiled. I’ll be the first to admit that I was questioning my decision at the beginning when I thought the group was crazy and that I wouldn’t make any friends. Four months later, I can safely say the group is crazy, but, in that good way that makes you want to constantly spend time with them. And David made the experience everything it should have been and more for the group—something I wish my original spring 07 group could have had. It was also so hard to leave this time because it had more of a sense of finality. Last time when I left, I had this feeling I’d be back (and was right, thank goodness). But this time, I have to be more realistic. I fully plan to study abroad again IF I go to law school, but that’s obviously not set in stone, plus, it wouldn’t be in Venice, so I knew this was the last time (at least for a long time) that I’d be living in Venice.

The time between second break and the time we left positively flew and I’m already struggling to remember exactly how I spent my days, especially after Thanksgiving. The week after Thanksgiving was exam week for the students, so I instituted “bake-a-palooza” (inspired by Tom’s proposed “drink-a-palooza” that was set to start immediately after exams concluded). Bake-a-palooza involved my experimenting in the kitchen each day they had exams (to give them something to look forward to or get them through studying)…Tuesday was chocolate chip cookies, Wednesday was banana bread, Thursday was lemon pound cake, and Friday was tiramisu…and clearly I stood to benefit from this, too! And of course we did the obligatory things like our last few nights out in Santa Margherita, our last slices of pizza al volo, our last cones of gelato, etc. Kayla and I like to refer to it as “hugging Venice goodbye”.

Despite all of that, I think I’m still in denial that it’s over. I actually haven’t really cried (yet?). Not at our last dinner, not at our departure ritual, not when everyone said goodbye. I’ve come close twice…once in Bar da Gino (which, appropriately, is when I got sad last time I was leaving) and once at JFK (where I had a flat out breakdown last time I was leaving)…mostly at JFK because it’s SO overwhelming for everything to be in English and to have rude New Yorkers yelling at you when you’re clearly jet lagged as anything (sorry my Northern friends). It’s probably just because I don’t want it to be over. I don’t want to go see every doctor in Cornelius (which I skipped out on last minute back in August). I don’t want to drive. I don’t want to get my coffee from Starbucks. I don’t want to fight the crowds at malls. I don’t want to stop cooking and baking. I don’t want to not be living with 19 of THE most amazing, talented, hilarious, entertaining, fabulous people I’ve ever met. I don’t want to not be able to get on a train to wherever I please every weekend. I don’t want to stop speaking and hearing Italian.

But clearly I don’t have a choice, because I don’t think Laura and Roberta would’ve looked too fondly on my staying on at Casa Artom. So, I’m trying to think of things I won’t miss from Italy or things that I’m looking forward to at home. I definitely won’t miss how revoltingly disgusting our kitchen got every single day somehow. I won’t miss the laundry machines that do a number on your favorite clothes. I won’t miss my teetiny little student assistant room because it’s like an inferno in there (or the not so comfy bed/pillow). I’m looking forward to seeing my girlfriends again, to being able to pick up my American cell phone and call them when something crazy happens, to seeing my family again. I’m also excited to start working out again, to give my liver a break, to have a closet again, to have my entire wardrobe at my disposal, to figure out where my life is going, to see little Gracie, to not live out of a suitcase every other weekend, to not converting every price from Euro to USD in my head. Oh, and, good LORD, I am definitely looking forward to a respite from the drama factory that the house naturally became (I mean you put 20 college kids together and what do you expect…MTV knew what they were doing when they copyrighted that as a TV show). And right now, sitting in the Delta lounge in JFK, I am dreading the heck out of my next flight, but, I am so looking forward to seeing Mom and Dad in baggage claim in Charlotte and having them drive me home to my own bed, where I will sleep until approximately 9:35 AM tomorrow (giving myself just enough time to get to my eye doctor appt…what was I thinking??). I’ve been up since 8 AM Venice time Monday morning (most kids left at 4am Venice time today (Tuesday), so we all pulled an all nighter), eaten next to nothing (nervous traveler), and taken some drowsy Dramamine, so, staying awake for the next 2 hours until that plane takes off is going to take Herculean effort.

So I think that means this is the last time I’ll ever bore y’all via my blog. My life is about to be so so so much less exciting that I wouldn’t dare post anything outside of my European adventures! Hope it’s been at least a little entertaining…if only I could’ve posted half the drama that went down…


OH! PS-If you’re kind enough to still be reading, I forgot to mention David’s gifts were a huge hit (we framed a big group pic of all of us and signed the glass and also gave him a journal full of our pictures and our own personal messages to him) and at the final dinner (where we gave him that gift) the students gave me THE most beautiful leather journal EVER. I was so surprised!

the things we do for coffee

This is officially the strangest holiday season of my life! It all started when I was charged with making Thanksgiving happen for 65 people in a foreign country. It got even weirder when I did things like cart half my body weight in bird around the canals of Venice, actually COOK for the big meal, and dress up big time for a holiday my family usually does in jeans. Oh, and going out to bars after the meal went off without a hitch? Yeah, that was just plain bizarre. When I then had a midnight meal at a kabob stand with half the house, followed by coming home to the remains of a pumpkin pie fight started by one of Ana's brothers, I decided I was definitely in a parallel universe. Sadly I didn't get a black Friday or Saturday in Florence, but, I saved a ton of money by not buying a train ticket and got to have a great few days with everyone in the house and visiting families.

Friday night, Kayla, Rhianna, and I joined Elizabeth's and Ana's families at San Trovaso, which was hilarious. There was a "kids" end of the table and I was basically hazed by Juan (Ana's older brother) and Rhianna with the house wine, which is probably why I was convinced to go on to Santa Margherita with all of them despite getting about 3 hours of sleep Thanksgiving night. It's probably also how I ended up buying 2 rounds of drinks at Duchamps for everyone, but it was fine because in doing so, I introduced Affligem (my FAVORITE beer on the face of the earth) to Ana's brothers and got a major discount on Spritzs (sparking wine plus Aperol, the traditional Venetian drink) because we bought so many. We went from Duchamps to Cafe Noir, where the boys got more beer and Kayla, Rhianna, and I decided it was time for Jack on the rocks. What can I say? Some life decisions just make more sense at the time! After that, I was ready to go home and our entire group (David, Rhianna, Kayla, Ana, her brothers, and I) walked back, but we ran in to the entire house on their way out and they convinced everyone but Juan and I to go back out (I was definitely ready for bed).

Saturday I woke up way too early but ended up being able to say goodbye to Ana's family (whom I adore after spending a few days with them), do some laundry, and then watch a movie with the girls. After lunch, Kayla and I went to the Christmas Market with McKinley and her sister before parting ways (they went on to San Marco). Kayla and I went towards Rialto to do some shopping. I planned to buy just gifts for friends and family back home, but also ended up with more black shoes (very cute and comfortable) and another little black dress on top of presents for a few people.

Sunday I went to San Marco for mass with Kayla and Zach, his family, Jen and Charlotte also showed up and sat with us. By the time mass was over, San Marco itself and the entire square were calf-high in water and it was pouring down rain-lovely. Kayla and I ended up taking a serious detour to avoid any acqua alta (neither of us had rain boots) and spent most of the rest of the day in the house because it POURED all day and even stormed pretty badly at times. Which half explains...

Monday. Oh my gosh Monday. So Kayla and I agree to go for coffee around 9am and walk out the door only to see water as close to Casa Artom as the Peggy (right next door). So we dash back inside to grab rain boots and cameras to take on what we assume will just be your typical acqua alta. By the time we round the corner past the Peggy, it's already ankle high (which we've never seen before). By the time we cross the bridge that leads to Bar da Gino, the water is almost to the top of my rain boots. We probably should've stopped there, but, as the post says...the things we do for coffee. As we were standing at the bar, the water started to seep in to the coffee shop, which was really creepy and Titanic-esque. I decided I really wanted to walk to San Marco, because it's the lowest lying area in Venice and I figured acqua alta would be even more intense there. So Kayla and I set out at about 9:30 and encounter increasingly deeper water as we approach San Marco...it sloshes in to my boots, drenching my jeans and feet, we walk on temporary sidewalks that are already starting to float away, Kayla has to give me a piggy back ride at one point, we get almost stranded in San Marco before decided to just risk it and trudge back, and get soaked practically to our chests on the walk back, because high tide, my friends, is around 11am, so the water just kept rising as we were walking! On the walk back, most floating sidewalks had floated away and we were on our own, but we had to get back, so we just dealt with it. It was SO incredibly creepy to see garbage and other random stuff floating beside us, to see water knee high in stores, to no longer be able to see the barriers of the canals, to feel yourself being pulled along by the wind and currents, to see water creep up in to your home inch by inch. We had no idea at the time that we were part of history, because the water reached heights of 5 ft 2 inches (taller than me, if you're keeping track), for the first time in 22 years. It was only about 30 or so centimeters lower than the historic floods in the 1960s. Apparently acqua alta was predicted, but not at unusual levels, so people were definitely caught off guard. It was amazing to see and literally be in the middle of history, but, I know it adversely impacted a lot of people and was much more dangerous than we realized, so, I'm glad Kayla and I arrived home safely and were able to wash our jeans and take long, hot showers (canal water is pretty polluted).

The rest of the day we again just kind of hid out in the house waiting for the water to recede before running some errands, etc. It's going to be a slow week for me, because everyone has exams and papers, so I'm doing awful, sad things like packing up, cleaning, and generally preparing to go home. I'm not ready to leave AT ALL! I just have to keep NOT thinking about my upcoming flights and reminding myself of all the things I'm looking forward to back home (shopping with Nina, getting my hair cut FINALLY, the Christmas season, movies in English, seeing friends, etc).

PS-There are a few pictures in this post, obviously, but, if you want to see more, there are a ton on my picture site (and CNN/NY Times, if you want professional ones!)