I Voted.

As far as I know the official results are not yet in. I'm not too concerned about the presidential race really. At the last election I couldn't keep my eyes off the polls, but I have since become rather apathetic or, in the least, lackadaisical. I just have a hard time putting my vote behind anyone who's spent millions of dollars promoting 1) their own moral goodness (if it were anyone else, wouldn't we just want to figure that out for ourselves?) 2) mudslinging their opponent (which should cancel out #1, but never manages to do so?) and 3) the idea that they'd spend American tax dollars wisely. I'm fairly certain those millions of dollars would have been much better spent digging America out of debt and paying for all those new government programs everyone seems to be promising the people. But I'm just saying.

I did vote; I cast my ballot. But I can't say if I agree with the process.

Short Red-Eye in a Tall Cup with Chocolate Powder, One Raw Sugar, and Half and Half to the Top

I had one of those this afternoon so I could wake up to write this entry. Actually I was eager to have a full day that started at 4am. Unfortunatly I did end up spending about an hour and a half watching Bones, this tv show on dvd my roommate borrowed from some of our friends. It's addicting, just like coffee.

Today was the first day of fall, the perfect day to enjoy a warm drink. Technically Autumn begins in September, but today felt like fall, like the first day you want to take that deep breath of fall air and go jumping into leaves. At 4:30 this morning it was frigid, but by the afternoon when I was struggling to stay awake to enjoy it, the temp was around 68.

Newest addictions:

Bones
Coupons
Sleep
Comfy shirts
Chuck
Studying my GRE words: "Don't be fractious and cause a fracas; try and be convivial, but don't be bombastic by only speaking in the argot of your field. It's boorish." (Try translating that! And it's not even Italian.)

Also, my beautiful niece had surgery on Tuesday. She's in recovery. The beautiful little thing is surely a trooper. Read more... Edentruthcarroll.blogspot.com

Not all adventures are pure fun.

I have never understood before how certain experiences can make one re-evaluate their own existence. I never imagined I'd be working not 30 feet from where a 24-year-old pizza delivery guy was robbed, shot, and killed. I never knew how I'd feel in the aftermath of such an event. I know now.

The Poignant 'Aha'

I always laugh when I see regular customers of Starbucks at other coffee shops. We always smile at each other once we realize who each other are. I can't go to the Frothy Monkey without running into a regular, and I just discovered I can't go to Bongo Java without seeing a co-worker. Coffee is an addiction.

Speaking of which... I'm at Bongo Java, but I have to leave in about fifteen minutes to go to Starbucks. My life does not lack caffeine, which is probably why I haven't been able to sleep well lately. I get so tired and then in the morning I wake up but not fully. I toss around for a while before I can really open my eyes. It's annoying. Perhaps I should try giving up caffeine for a while. That'd be crazy.

Currently in the works: Grad School.

I've been out of school now for four months, and I must admit: "I hate it." I'm actualy a little jealous of my friends and co-workers who are still in the classroom. Thus, I have excellent motivation for getting on top of graduate school applications and also, yes... the dreaded GRE. I finally buckled down and purchased a vocabulary workbook which I've already begun pounding through. I'm debating signing up for a class, but I'm not sure enough of the programs I'm looking to apply to even require the test. A few do though including one I found today that is hitting the top of my list. Currently on the list:

Oregon State
Portland State
Indiana University
...and possibly a school in Colorado which I can't find in my grad school notes at this moment.

The list is sure to fluctuate as I narrow down or expand exactly what kind of program I'm looking for. I'm still debating the MFA option, but as of right now am heavily leaning toward a program that offers an MA in creative writing of the more traditional MA in Composition and Rhetoric. The end goal, for those of you who don't know, is teaching writing at a university level. I just want to go to school forever I suppose.

A little clip I wrote in half and hour...

Gadget came bounding up the sidewalk to the step. He had only just seen the bird reach the branch and was determined to bring him down. (No one could make him believe he was a creature of inferior tree-climbing ability.) He sat down below the bottom step, pawing the air, trying to picture how his maleficence could reach new heights. Run at the tree, leap up the trunk of the tree, climb onto the branch all while remaining silent. The plan was infallible. Then all that was left was to sneak down the branch and storm upon the nest.

He readied himself for the attack just as he heard a susurration from within one of the shrubs that lined the porch. His ears perked, his head turned, searching for the spy. Electrolytes stirred in his veins, causing a tremble of excitement. Should he go on with the plan or risk attempting this task when the cat could be watching? He looked at the tree, then back at the shrubs, then back at the tree. The bird peered over the edge; the rustle of the shrub willed him to try and dared him to fail.

He readied himself once more, rising on all fours and glaring into the base of the trunk. He started at a trot, moved into a gallop, then darted at full speed running vertical up the trunk, grabbing hold of the branch with his two front paws. He had made it, but only barely. He had not put on such a farce since January’s incident with the snow. With all his might he pulled himself upward, swinging his legs down the branch, hoping to grab on. The branch shook; the leaves rustled.

Gadget let out a whimper as the cat bounded up the trunk and onto the branch above him, mocking his feeble mission. The bird, seeing both Gadget and the cat invading his branch, gave up his perch and flew into the shrubs. Gadget, unable to hold on any longer to the branch and fearing the cat’s ruthless mockery, let go of the branch, accepting his failure. The cat, feeling superior to both the cowardly bird and foolish Gadget, sauntered down the branch which creaked and cracked more loudly with each forward step. The bird began building a new nest but did not watch, Gadget sashayed to the backyard but did not bark, and the cat did not notice until he went soaring uncontrollable to the ground to the mocking laughter of the successful Gadget.

Living with Cats

I have officially moved in with two cats, a missing closet door, blinds that don't work, a litter box, a broken porch step, and internet that doesn't seem to want to work. Not the best of situations at the moment to say the least, but I'm making do.

I am glad to finally have a day off of work after working 7 straight days while moving! I would NOT recommend anyone attempt this activity as it is extremely dangerous. I haven't been quite that drained in a LONG time. Drained and exhausted and living with shedding creatures.

Life can be terrifying, but then I'm sitting outside at a coffee shop drinking fruit tea because the internet at my new place refuses to cooperate, and I can't help but remember that life is also beautiful! And I am, despite the current less-than-perfect situation, pretty darn blessed.

Life is really one GIANT adventure.

I graduated from college a few weeks ago and since then I've been working at Starbucks where I've been a barista since January. As I was getting in my car the other day after a long 8 hour shift on my feet, I was feeling rather exhausted. But as I tossed my purse into the front passenger seat and let out a sigh I realized something, or felt it I suppose. I realized that through the drudgery of working to get by and pay my bills and in the midst of feeling like maybe I should be looking for a job with a salary, I was in fact on the sort of path that may lead me to where I truly wish to go. I've been taking a risk, pursuing a direction of which I am terrified. I want to be a writer. And I know that if I were to look for a stable job with normal hours and perhaps even the comfort of salary, I'd be stuck. I know my own weakness for such traps, and through all that I've been heading toward as a writer I have learned that sometimes I must simply avoid the trap altogether and do whatever takes me a different way.

And so, as scary as it is I'm living with shaky ambitions and uncertain objectives, hoping that just maybe the writing will happen and I'll make it to grad school or I'll write something someone wishes to read - because I could take the easier road and use my "degree" directly, but then again I couldn't. I couldn't because I haven't chosen that way and that way has not chosen me.

And I feel free.

I need a muse

Earlier today I was visiting Papa at the hospital (he had heart surgery, but he's looking great!), and he was asking me if I'd posted lately, so just for him, I'm posting... and because I'm very much in need of an update, though there is little to actually update.

I ventured to Washington last week to see Autumn get married. She was, of course, positively beautiful. Overall, I suppose it was a good trip, though rather exhausting. I rode some ferries which is always a plus because I love ferries. And Ben and I saw some of the city: Pike Place, Pioneer Square, Bainbridge (via the ferries), Capitol Hill.

But now I am back in the city and ready to start my job on Monday morning, bright and early. I shall be working for Midtown Printing, just down the road, and frankly, I'm pretty excited. I'm thinking it's going to be a good job, with which of course, I can't argue. Hopefully I'll get to do some fun stuff.

I've also started painting, which is a little strange, because I don't actually know how to paint, but nonetheless, I enjoy it. I'm trying to put together some books from Italy and Europe, but they are causing some problems. I can't seem to get my ideas together. We'll see. I made some progress today, and hopefully I can order some prints of photos soon and get the ball rolling.

Hopefully I'll have more to post later. For now... enjoy the sunshine and be sure to check out the flickr photos of Seattle!!

Summer in the City

So, as of right now I'll be spending my summer in Nashville. I wanted to move to Raleigh and live with Steph, but alas, I shall stay here. Most likely this will end up being a good thing considering that in the past year I have lived in four different places! I moved from Bruin Hills to Hendersonville to Florence and then back to Music City.

Right now I am looking for a much needed job. My goal is to have a job set before I leave next week for Washington to see the lovely Autumn Rose get married! Insanity. My college roommate is getting married. I feel old. So, next Wednesday I'm going on another mini adventure. I will say, that's one plus to getting old. Since I've been back from Europe, I've still been able to go on adventures, and once I get a job and have an income I plan on taking a few more. First, this little trip to the Northwest and then hopefully at least two road-trips to North Carolina to see the sister. Maybe I'll fit a little trip to the beach in there, but I'd need to find somewhere free to stay, or free transport, but it's more likely I'll find somewhere free to stay. Maybe I'll just go to the beach while I'm in North Carolina, or maybe I just won't go to the beach, but I'll go to Amish country again!

The important thing, though, is still the job, and thus the income. Darn. I like working, if the job is good - it keeps me busy. But I hate job searching; it makes me so nervous. Anyways, I have some good leads, and I'm pretty excited about trying to find a job that does not require all weekends and nights. I'd love to work weekdays!

So, we'll see, and perhaps I'll attempt to be more dedicated to updating. Wouldn't that be unusual.

I'm getting old.

I should be finishing my paper on The Secret Life of Bees, but instead I'm writing a long-awaited post to the much-forgotten blog. I've officially lost all motivation to finish this semester, which can mean nothing good, considering I still have the following assignments to complete:

1 8-10 page research paper for Faith in Southern Contemporary Literature
1 packaging design project for fictional company 'Sweet Tooth'
1 final paper for my stupid third year writing class
1 reflection essay on my class participation
1 final examination on Faith in Southern Contemporary Literature
1 group presentation on certainty and ambiguity in current religious thought
1 journal on something I'll have to look up when the time comes to write said journal

Somewhere I'll have to pick up some motivation. If only you could add that to your coffee - instead all I get is shots of peppermint to add to my latte, a concoction I thought I'd enjoy much more than I actually do. I suppose I should just stick with mocha for the time being.

Anyhow, no more classes this semester, just the above mentioned final exams, papers, and presentations. As of Monday of next week, I'll officially be a Senior in College, which might just be the craziest thing ever. Well, maybe not ever. I felt something similar to this after my sister got married - something like disbelief. When did I suddenly get so old? Someone tell me the answer to this question.

When I have the time...

Summer Book List:

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (July 21st) by J.K. Rowling
Digging to America by Anne Tyler
Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler
In the Company of the Courtesan by Sarah Dunant
Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf
The Beloved by Toni Morrison

When I have the time...

La Primavera

Oh, spring hath come and summer hath battled and won. Today was hot and a bit humid, but the shade was nice, so I suppose summer hasn't won the fight altogether.


Here's the deal: I've been working at this language center on campus since the semester began. The purpose is to tutor/help people with Italian, but as of now, I've helped/tutored no one. So, instead, the computer entertains me, and I pretend that I have two hours to do homework. These two hours are rarely actually filled with homework doing, but occasionally I read, which makes up approximately 50% or more of my homework. I went to Borders yesterday and bought 3 books, none of which will be read in their entirety. So unfortunate. Not unfortunate that I purchased them - unfortunate that I had to spend money on bad literature.


Right now, I'm missing the cobblestone streets and walking by the Arno after class and watching the sunset over the apartments across from the steps of the Santa Croce. This guy one night when I was in Florence told me about the crazy symbolism in the Architecture of Florence and the one thing I remembered and went to find out about was he said it was significant where the Dante statue in that piazza pointed. I did it once. I went to the foot of that statue and looked out to where the Dante was looking and it was right at the Palazzo Vecchio, which was the seat of government. This signified a relationship between the church and the government. Not sure why it's significant right now, to me, in this post, but I was just thinking about that day I went and stood at the feet of the statue of Dante in the Piazza di Santa Croce. I'd go there right now if I could.



view from the steps of Santa Croce.

Magnolia Trees

Tonight I climbed a magnolia tree with a girl from Pennsylvania that I had met only a few hours earlier and with whom I ate spaghetti. We hung out about half way up the tree chatting about Europe. Then she left and went to Florida. Good story, huh? It really happened. And now I'm here on my bed avoiding the fact I have to read Parzival that might just be in the top five things I've been forced to read since being in college. Actually it might be the top of that list. Also I need to read something about food probably - don't ask. If you do ask, I'll tell you, but you will regret you ever asked.

If only everyday could be spring.

Glorious I say. Glorious. I'm wearing my chacos, and I sat out on the quad today, and I'm wearing my favorite white shirt and corduroy jacket combination. Life doesn't get much sweeter. Plus, tonight is Grey's Anatomy and the Office and as long as Meredith doesn't die I will go to bed one happy girl. Then tomorrow my mom is coming into the city, and we are going to lunch.

If only I didn't also have a 400 page book to read, three papers to write and an Arthurian Romance midterm to study for. If only.

My new obsession is Mocha. I've just come to the conclusion that American latte and cappucino don't quite compare to Italian ones, but the mocha - oooo buddy. That's one delicious concoction. I had one yesterday simply to wake me up since I was falling asleep at 10 am and still had a three hour class ahead of me, plus an engaged scholars seminar and babysitting (for the cutest kid ever). But then today I had the hugest craving for another one. I've also been craving chinese food lately, something that might just have to be cured sometime this weekend. What I'd do to have Jing Jing right outside my apartment. We had the cheapest Chinese place half a block from my apartment in Italy. I could get fried rice and chicken and bean sprouts for like 3 euro. I'll just have to settle for the five dollar China Spring by Kroger on 8th I suppose. I need to learn how to make mocha so I can make them at home. That'd be pretty wonderful - sip my mocha during Southern Lit tomorrow morning. Beats coffee. Coffee, I have decided, is gross. It's too weak and so far, all the coffee I've ever had tasted burnt. Who wants to drink a cup of watered down burnt stuff? Not me.

Second to the right and then straight on til morning.

Classes at Belmont. Long... work oriented... homeworked. Who thought of the concept of homework? is what I want to know. I want to go back to Compiti (Italian for homework). Just this week, I have a book to get read so I can write a Reception study on it, a really stupid food class to read about and for which I must complete something by the abbreviation "CP" (I don't know what it stands for and frankly don't care to find out), three chapters to read about the legend of Arthur, at least 20 line studies to do for a book series entitle, "Let's Dance," a paper to write (which I am of course doing on Italy), and then two articles and three biblical readings. Wow. Surprisingly it looks a little better when I write it out like that.

School is my best excuse for why I've been neglecting updates, though I can also blame my want of a new heading for the next chapter of the blog - not to say that living isn't an awfully big adventure when you're not in Italy, but still. The point is, I am returning to this place after being gone for quite a while, and I'm not in Italy anymore. It was good; it was perfect; but it's over.

In the words of the Wendy-bird, "We must leave at once... before we, in turn, are forgotten."

the ordinary things.

I keep trying to remember things that happened to me over the past four months and somehow the only things I can think of clearly are tiny things.

I can remember walking down my street or sitting on the steps of Santa Croce watching the sun go down. I can remember my cafe and the market. I can remember what it felt like to walk by a massive piece of renaissance architecture - the way it makes you feel like your floating. But I can't remember all these things together. The whole thing is in pieces, like it happened a long time ago. I can remember things, but I have yet to refeel them.

Coming home is a strange phenomenon.

My window now overlooks a power line and a gray brick house. I can sit here and see my neighbors walking their dogs, the mailman pull up the road, a lady with a cat. These are the ordinary things. I drive in a car. I call up my friends. I stay up until 3am talking to my roommate. I watch primetime tv and eat lean cuisine. My suitcases are stuck way back in my closet and will likely remain untouched for months. My passport is somewhere safe and out of reach. My money exists only in dollars. I have to buy all my groceries at a supermarket with an english name like kroger or harris teeter and there are aisles and aisles of preserved food with which to stock my massive refrigerator. I don't dress according to the weather, but according to where I am going. I miss Italy and wine and cappuccino.

nine countries, twenty-three trains, five hostels, and one plane in ten days

Where do I begin the story of something so overwhelming, exhausting, and utterly incredible? I, for one, don't quite know. The whole thing was just what I have said: overwhelming, exhausting, and utterly incredible. I was tired; I was ready to come home; and yet I was having the time of my life and ready to go back and live in Austria. . . or Germany. . . or Switzerland. . . or Brugge. . . or England. Not Amsterdam. Holland maybe. But not Amsterdam.

Home. Home is good. At the moment, though I'm home for sure, I still feel as if I don't live anywhere, which is how I've felt for a while, I suppose, and especially the last week living out of a backpack and sleeping on top of my passport and plane ticket. But, Christmas happened so soon after I got home (sooner than you may believe as my sister came home!!! but that meant we celebrated Christmas a day early which was the day after I got home) that I never had time to unpack and now it's already time to repack and move back to Nashville or unpack and move in here, and I don't think I want to unpack twice. Conclusion - it still hasn't hit me that Italy is in the past, and I have to go back to Belmont.

Did I really just spend the last four months in Europe??

non c'è il posto come a casa

Things I’ve learned. (a message written on 10 dicembre from my apartment).

It’s a strange place to be, to know you are standing on the edge of something great. Few times in life, at least from what I have noticed, do you know when you are about to encounter something big. I thought I knew that before I came here, but I was still unable to grasp what kind of big it truly was. Now I’m in my apartment sitting below my roommates laundry that’s hanging on an indoor clothesline she set up since the rain seems to not want to tell us it might come later in the day. And sitting here I’ve been trying to write a research paper about Brunelleschi and the Old Sacristy of San Lorenzo, which as interesting as that might sound, I’m falling asleep at the computer. So, as it usually happens my mind began to wander to life things.

Here I am sitting in my fourth floor Italian apartment underneath a clothesline of laundry, and you know what, I love it. I’ve been on the verge of about 73 emotions over the last few days. First I’m terribly homesick, next I’m overwhelmed with research papers and 20 page fictional pieces and studying for an Italian final that covers at least 15 tenses (and though 73 was a slight exaggeration, I can say with complete confidence 15 is not), and then I’m just excited that I’m about to go to seven countries in seven days, and then I want to cry because I don’t want to leave here. I honestly think I tried to not get attached to people thinking it would make it easier to leave. But then, how could I not get at least a little attached to my roommates. They’ve been so great. I mean, sure, we get frustrated with one another about dishes and groceries and how we’re always running out of toilet paper, but I’ve grown to really like them. And then there are other people like Sarah and Laura. Then, there’s my cooking class. They’ve been my fill-in family. I’m seriously dreading tomorrow night (tonight by the time I post this) when I have to go to my last cooking class because I know it’s going to be the worst goodbye ever. I will likely never see some of them again. What will I do without Duccio and Victoria on Monday nights?

[The above mentioned final cooking class has now occurred, and it was a pretty sad departure, but we had so much fun too! I will truly miss every single one of them: Duccio, Victoria, Chelsea, Jamie, Cindy, Tori. They were like family, no joke.]

It’s not just the people, this place has found a special place in my heart, but at the same time it has made me grow fonder of my roots. (that sounds pretty cliché, but frankly it’s true.) Earlier this semester Autumn sent me this song about Tennessee and it came on my ipod while I was washing the dishes earlier tonight and I think it describes really well how I feel. It’s a Mindy Smith song and I don’t know the name of it, but these are the lyrics:

“Tennessee
You’ve been good to me
Yes, I’ve come to believe
You’re where I want to be
You may not be what everybody needs
But Tennessee
You’re good enough for me
I can’t see
Stars shining in your night
Your daytime sings like Cash and Patsy Cline
They may not be what everybody needs
But they touched my soul
And that’s good enough for me
It’s been ten years now, and I’m rooted in your soil
I am rooted in your soil
Give me ten more years I’ll be rooted in your soil
Right here in your soil
You may not be
What I will always need
But I call you home
If I can call you home
Then you’re good enough for me”

Basically, I miss home. I'm ready to be home. But I'm going to miss here too. I'm not sure this was the best way to explain - and I didn't intend to have posts like this, but it seemed necessary this time.

Things I'm about to do. (a message written right now, 12 dicembre from an uncomfortable white chair at FUA.)

Okay, I know this is already superlong, but, because I have much to do before I leave Thursday evening, and don't know when I will be able to sit down this long at a computer, I wanted to post a little summary of the upcoming trip.

I leave Thursday evening at 11 from Florence (sad) on a sleeper train for Zurich. Over the ensuing seven days we will visit the following cities: Zurich, possibly Lucern, Salzburg, Munich, Stuttgart, possibly Heidelburg (or another German city), Amsterdam, Bruges, Brussels, and then London. Then I fly home on the 23rd and arrive sometime that evening, at which point I hope to be eating chocolate chip cookies and drinking purity 2% milk.

I'm going to be one tired cookie come the end of next week.

(P.S. I will most likely find computer access along the way and will try make time to post, but I apologize ahead of time if this doesn't happen.)

Ciao Ciao!!

What am I gonna do when I run out of pocket coffee?

My book project is finito and now all I have left is two papers of varying difficulties, three midterms and two critiques. Oh, and then 9 days to trek through Europe.

I have decided there is no doubt in my mind I will miss the following:

pocket coffee
Italian cappucino
people speaking in italian
the san ambrogia market
cooking class
bookbinding class
vespas
italian food (only after a significant time lapse)
the view from my apartment
feeling like my neighbors are in my apartment when we have the windows open (I don't know; perhaps I won't really miss that so much)
Piazza della Republicca
dolci
San Miniato
wine (for three months anyway)
walking everywhere
going to three hundred stores to buy my groceries
having fresh food all the time
the euro
borgo albizi
the random markets and events that appear in Santa Croce (i.e. the german christmas market)
going out for half-off gelato on tuesday night with my roommates and avoiding all our homework until it's time to go to bed
Jian Jian
being extremely tv-deprived
and more than anything (puo darsi) my favorite cafè, Enoteca de Macci

There're probably more, but at the moment I'm pretty much starving. So, I think I shall go to the german market and get me a pizza brezel before la clase.

Only 9 days left in italia.
17 left in europa.