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!