Fail at this consistent blogging thing. Oh well.
The semester is winding down rapidly, I'm all done with final exams and it is just these two pesky term papers standing between me and a week-long cruise in Mediterranean. In spite of some all-nighters ahead of me...I'm not complaining a bit.
I'm pretty pumped for this cruising thing in general, and since I've never been on one before I guess I'll find out if boats are my thing. I'm very very prone to motion sickness on buses and trains, but I have been told the boat is so huge there's no sea-sicknessy feeling? I have also been told the 24/7 buffet food is out of control, so at least if I come back 10 pounds heavier, I'll come back 10 pounds heavier and TAN. I'm taking my sneakers for all this active fun they say they have on board so maybe I won't abandon healthy habits altogether. The cruise is going to Croatia, Greece, and Turkey, which is super duper exciting because those are places I want to go but in a friendly pre-organized kind -of way. Yayyyy.
It has been beautifulllll weather in Florence lately, getting just sunny and warm enough to lay out and tan by the Arno. I've got a couple spots I like for this purpose. If you can deal with old guys in little bathing suits being kind of close to you, but overall minding their own business, it's a pretty good time. I've also been spending a lot of time outdoors increasing my running mileage a little each week, which is a little complicated by massive amounts of tourists close to the city center, but once you get a bit down river it is rather nice to just cruise along. My latest route gets me away from the city center, through this massive shady park, to a little place with carnival rides at the end. It's nice. I like. I also like running by the American consulate because I think the army guys on guard outside are pretty cute. But I digress.
Even though the semester is winding down, there's still a lot of work ahead. I start my internship at the European University Institute next week, and I've got a lot of work to do on a portfolio of lecture write-ups and such. Not to mention a research symposium I have to polish up one of my papers for, and a Council of Ministers simulation I have to do some research for. By the way, I am Austria in the simulation. What's up.
Other than that, it's life as usual. Need to expand my job hunt and job application volume. Hire me?
Happy St. Pat's
If I knew where all this time went, I'd have the answer to everything.
A few glasses of chianti and you feel pretty nostalgic sometimes. Nostalgic for things that haven't even ended.
I guess now I know how people make a rash decision, go some place new, exciting, bold, and foreign, and then spend 15 years there in a blink of an eye.
I know enough Italian to think I could learn more. I have a life in Italy that is no longer glamourous, impressive, or what have you. It just is. It's my life and I'm scared to lose it.
I'm not wracked with this fear I'm never coming back. Because I know I am. I am too smart about Europe and European politics to let it go to waste. I'm more scared of never being able to connect with people who haven't been as lucky as I am.
There's this crux right now. I can return to a life in D.C. Which is what I have expected all along. And be satisfied with it. Or.
I can look for jobs in Brussels. Lobbying the EU. Maybe it's American firm. Maybe not. Maybe I am completely outside my comfort zone. Maybe I am enough warmed up to the idea of being an outsider that I can do it again. So maybe I go to Brussels. Learn French (three of four years?). Go back to work in the States with what I have and then start other things. Stay here until I want so badly to go back. Because that's the issue. I don't want to go back badly enough.
If you had asked me in December if this was true I would have said no. I wanted so badly to be home.
But I am learning to expect less out of my life there.
I am. A function of it is that I am very disappointed right now in some people who have intentionally chosen to never be part of the life I have had here for a year. They are never going to see it. They are never going to know. They are uninterested in making arrangements to be part of it. I have tried to rationalize any excuse. And I can't. I'm embarrassed by their apparent apathy. But it is liberting at the same time.
Maybe it is a kick in the ass I need. Look Michelle. No one is ever going to want to be a part of your life there. But you love it anyways. Make it yours. Own it. Don't stay because it impresses people. It doesn't after all. Don't stay because you think it gives you something to talk about in a bar in D.C.
Do it because you want it. Because you are ok with being outside your comfort zone. Everyday. Because you are smart about this. Because it serves your country in the end. Because you are not ready to answer to people in your life that underestimate you.
If I thought any of the people who treat me like shit sometimes were going to read this, I'd be concerned. If living in Brussels would give me an ounce of an excuse not to spend the holidays with people who treat me like I am not smart, like I am dumb teenager who will never know anything about the world that's enough reason for me. I'm not sure when I get to be thought of as a smart worldly adult to some people. I'm not sure when I get to have a say.
Anyway. I will probably delete this later, but I'm just a little full of reflection.
Happy St. Patrick's Day.
A few glasses of chianti and you feel pretty nostalgic sometimes. Nostalgic for things that haven't even ended.
I guess now I know how people make a rash decision, go some place new, exciting, bold, and foreign, and then spend 15 years there in a blink of an eye.
I know enough Italian to think I could learn more. I have a life in Italy that is no longer glamourous, impressive, or what have you. It just is. It's my life and I'm scared to lose it.
I'm not wracked with this fear I'm never coming back. Because I know I am. I am too smart about Europe and European politics to let it go to waste. I'm more scared of never being able to connect with people who haven't been as lucky as I am.
There's this crux right now. I can return to a life in D.C. Which is what I have expected all along. And be satisfied with it. Or.
I can look for jobs in Brussels. Lobbying the EU. Maybe it's American firm. Maybe not. Maybe I am completely outside my comfort zone. Maybe I am enough warmed up to the idea of being an outsider that I can do it again. So maybe I go to Brussels. Learn French (three of four years?). Go back to work in the States with what I have and then start other things. Stay here until I want so badly to go back. Because that's the issue. I don't want to go back badly enough.
If you had asked me in December if this was true I would have said no. I wanted so badly to be home.
But I am learning to expect less out of my life there.
I am. A function of it is that I am very disappointed right now in some people who have intentionally chosen to never be part of the life I have had here for a year. They are never going to see it. They are never going to know. They are uninterested in making arrangements to be part of it. I have tried to rationalize any excuse. And I can't. I'm embarrassed by their apparent apathy. But it is liberting at the same time.
Maybe it is a kick in the ass I need. Look Michelle. No one is ever going to want to be a part of your life there. But you love it anyways. Make it yours. Own it. Don't stay because it impresses people. It doesn't after all. Don't stay because you think it gives you something to talk about in a bar in D.C.
Do it because you want it. Because you are ok with being outside your comfort zone. Everyday. Because you are smart about this. Because it serves your country in the end. Because you are not ready to answer to people in your life that underestimate you.
If I thought any of the people who treat me like shit sometimes were going to read this, I'd be concerned. If living in Brussels would give me an ounce of an excuse not to spend the holidays with people who treat me like I am not smart, like I am dumb teenager who will never know anything about the world that's enough reason for me. I'm not sure when I get to be thought of as a smart worldly adult to some people. I'm not sure when I get to have a say.
Anyway. I will probably delete this later, but I'm just a little full of reflection.
Happy St. Patrick's Day.
Santo Spirito, a reevaluation.
A couple of us were talking about blogs over German Olympics coverage, when I realized what an epic fail I have been at keeping up with mine. It has been since October. How time flies.
Three short (but snow-filled) weeks at home and I was already back in Florence. Just last week I rearranged my room, pushed my beds together, and furnished them with big enough sheets that it is almost like I am a real person again. I truly live here. I'm having that panicky feeling already about moving out again, granted there is not really furniture I have to worry about, it but it's just that I am so done with being a nomad! You know, and the fact that here, briefly in my life, I have a room with a balcony overlooking a Brunelleschi original, the quirky but loveable Santo Spirito.
From my limited prior entries you will know that I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with Santo Spirito. Not the church itself persay, but the characters that seem to congregate on its stoop all day and night. During the day, you will find a mix of students, tourists and locals following a sliver of sun across the steps to enjoy their sandwiches from Gusta Panino across the street. Then there are Santo Spirito's dedicated and decidedly grungy loiterers, crammed in the nooks of its giant doors, their dogs running free somewhere nearby. It's an interesting crowd, really.
At night, and on particularly warm nights, Santo Spirito becomes a multi-purpose hub for late-night bum jam sessions, a 24-hour dog park, drug depot, and a good excuse for drunk and/or crazy yelling. Here you will find your regular explosion of firecrackers, bongos and strewn bottles of Tenets beer (10% alcohol), but in all I wouldn't say I find the square at night unsafe. The guidebooks will tell you it is known for its"bohemian vibe".
The neighbors occasionally protest the noise from behind their shuttered windows, but on the whole I get the impression that the neighborhood is a bit resigned to its status as the square of crazies. The police have a very hands-off attitude towards the nighttime shenanigans; so long as the bums are not littering the most famous and touristed areas they seem to be satisfied.
So here you are, at Santo Spirito, a church already known for its goofy incomplete facade, and you have this whole cast of characters that accompanies it. But in an endearing way, the church and the square it faces has carved a small community out of the larger Oltrarno area (our side of the river), and out of Florence as a whole. There are things I know about it, and things I expect from it only now, months after having first passed judgement on it.
I always see the most beautiful German Shepherd patiently waiting on the threshold of a shop on Via Santo Spirito. The two older women wearing stripes who run the Tabacchi on Via Maggio expect us for cappuccini during class breaks... when they can't break the 10 euro bill I have they just grin and say "domani" (tomorrow). When I open my shutters on Sunday morning it is always a surprise whether the antiques market will be there or not. I will always walk through and look at the antiques when the market is there-- but I never buy anything-- as it is, without fail, always a bunch of crap. I get some kind of mystery cheese from the cheese guy when he sets up his table facing the church, and I feign that I understand his Italian more than I do. The same guys are always in Gusta Pizza across the street, which has become our standard too-lazy-to-cook destination. Our neighborhood gelateria is the best in all of Florence, and I stand by that. The random vending room around the corner broke our hearts when they took the beer out of the vending machines, but no worries... "Asia Market" is not far and the Chinese couple in there keeps a decent amount of very cheap beer and wine chilled, seemingly just for us.
So while I may walk out the front door and find the trash can has been burnt down overnight by Santo Spirito bums, the neighborhood has somehow endeared itself to me over the past couple months. Last semester, I found myself itching to get out of Florence at every possible opportunity, but just last weekend I spent a few days in Venice and couldn't wait to get home. It's become my normal.
I will spend the next two weeks traveling, first for my break then for an academic trip. I'm going to Prague, Stockholm and Brussels, and I couldn't be more excited... but I know that at the end of it all I will be looking forward to coming back to my giant Ikea bed and my pet plant Samantha and my goofy neighborhood :)
