My Thoughts

Here I am, sitting, looking at a panino, iced coffee, and less than a month left in Firenze. The cafeteria is full of students and teachers, alike, chatting about their trips this semester...past and future; talking about home, and what they're going to do first when they get back.

I'm torn.

On one hand, I love this place...mostly. There are, inevitably, things about a place that one doesn't necessarily adore (read: I'm sick of cat-calls from Italian boys...not men, boys) -- some things just won't be missed. But then there are the ones that I am going to miss terribly: speed-walking to class every morning past open-air markets and ancient chapels, doing my weekly shopping at il mercato centrale where the food is always fresh and always cheaper than any supermarket in Firenze, going out for gelato with what friends I have made here... yeah, I'm going to miss this.

What is more, the ability to country-hop when living in Firenze is incredible. In the same time it takes for one to travel from one state to another in the U.S., one can cross borders to new countries, cultures, languages... it's amazing. But, and here's where my other hand comes into the picture, all of my traveling has made me realize just how little I know about my own country; my own home.

I was hiking in the Italian Alps last weekend, and traveled to Lake Garda and I realized, while I was sitting there staring into the clear water of the lake, that there are beautiful places in the U.S. that could compare to the one I was seeing... yet I had never even taken the time to seek them out. I've never been to Yellowstone... Yosemite... the Grand Canyon.... the Smokey Mountains.... so many more. It's ridiculous when I think about it, really. I'm so obsessed with getting out of my home country that I'm forgetting what a treasure it is in and of itself. There are so many subcultures to our own culture, so many different dialects - just as there are in Ireland or England - that I have yet to become acquainted with, so many problems that need solving, so many history-altering things taking place there.

My other hand begs me to mention, also, that I am in dire need of a group hug from my family...or, better, several individual bear hugs. Especially with the recent visits from my friends' parents, I have been feeling the pangs typically associated with missing something or someone terribly. I miss going to my grandparents' houses just to chat, hanging out with my cousins, being the typical little sister figure to my older brother and the youngest child to my parents...I miss going on bikerides with H, going for a drink with V. It's so strange to think that those two will be graduated when I get back. My younger cousin is graduating from High School...if that doesn't make one feel old, I don't know what does.

I feel like I've missed so much in the time I've been away: three birthdays, three graduations, concerts, soccer games, dances....my family is growing up and I'm not there to participate. It's depressing!

And, while Firenze and Europe in general is wonderful, I feel less than useful here. Yes, I have class to attend to, and trips to plan, and a blog to write in (although, as you well know, reader, I have been slacking on that front), my journal to keep up...but no job, no means of searching out internships past the occasional online browse when I come across internet. I miss having a job - some sort of income - I don't care for this borrowing-of-monies from my parents at all. At ALL.

I think, then, that a trip home is just what I need at this point. For all of my running away from it, I find it keeps reeling me in like an unwilling fish on a hook. My home and family are more a part of me and my life than I wanted to realize before this trip. I know now that I can do this on my own... survive, that is. But what is surviving when the people who know you best aren't there to make it worthwhile? My friends are great, but their companionship just leads me to think of time spent with my family... in turn making me miss them more.

I've recently compiled a list of goals - for summer, senior year, and life in general - I look forward to reaching them upon my arrival to the States. A new sense of perseverance has instilled itself within me during this experience. With all that I've been through, I know I have sold myself short in the past in regards to what I can achieve. No more.