The Last Puppy

Did any of you guys ever read The Last Puppy? It was a kid's book about this little puppy that was sad about being adopted last out of his litter of nine puppy siblings...but he ended up getting a nice owner and lived happily ever after. Anyway, random thing to bring up, but I was just reminded of this childhood memory when I realized that I am now officially the last one! Sophie left today, and the rest of the Wada girls have all been gone for a while, so I'm the only one left at home. But not for long...I leave Tuesday and there is still a ton to do. So I should stop reminiscing about old books and comparing myself to dogs, and get to work packing!

Bella Roma!

Rome is another world and its hard to believe how much has happened in so short a time! Lets see... got interviewed with my roomates for a british travel channel. We were invited to a club where an the interviewer (Russ) was a dj for the night. But our Italian dinner down the street was so delicious, we stayed for hours and the old Italian owner joked with us in Italian and gave us hugs and kisses when we came and left. Plus the pasta was incredible "Profutti con fungi" Truffle with mushroom, and very cheap! I got a little shot of espresso with grappa to finish it off. Then off to the local bars, met some Italians, Matteo worked in the Olympics and had traveled the world. Tried the best rum ive ever had. Matteo and his friends drove us to find a good Italian club (sounds sketch but was NOT!) finally settled into a disco, danced it up for a few hours, got drinks and set off for home around 4:30 to fall asleep by 5:30
Oh what a day!

And it starts.....

the confused wanderings of
WHAT should I do next? euros.. check. drawing materials... check. camera... check. converters... check. lonely planet guide... check. and so on.

with each little thing I get ready another fills its space and back I go to office depot, aaron brothers or radio shack! the joy of packing.

I have almost forgotten about my ultimate destination! its definitely helpful to stop for a minute and not get caught up in what is still to BE don but rather reflect on how much is out of the way. The best part of that being my new baby! not a real baby, but an canon rebel slr camera that takes wonderful shots.

Its really hard to believe that so soon my life will be shifted upside down: priorities and realities readjusted to the slow paced, indulgent, contemplative, artistic, Italian lifestyle. Although as I have laid out my clothes, I am realizing my fashion sense might not be up to par.. oh well!

and back to my wanderings...

Billy is awesome.

Billy created an awesome rendition of the Charlie Brown "Bon Voyage" movie poster...adapted to Wada girls.



Thank you Billy!

Dress codes and posture

Two posts within 20 minutes of each other seems like bad form, but right now I am too nervous/excited to give a fuck. 

Today I finally cracked open the handout given to us at our orientation - "France: A Cultural Primer." Yes, it's as frightening as it sounds. Here are some of my favorite excerpts - 

"Nothing amuses (or horrifies) [the French] more than the American habit of stepping out of one's home in shorts, sneakers or sandals, and a wrinkled T-shirt."

Uh...there goes my Berkeley uniform.

"The French body tends to be kept muscularly tense while walking, standing or even sitting, which induces a sort of stiffness further reinforced by wearing more formal attire."

I'm really hoping this handout is comprised of outdated non-demographically-correct French customs. Of course, if facebook pictures don't lie, my host sister's posture is positively lax, especially when she's passed out on couches with penises drawn on her face.

Then again, I have yet to see a photo of her in a t-shirt.

Warning: Freakout Follows

Merci beaucoup Alex!!

I am leaving tomorrow for Bordeaux. 

I think I have to repeat that to myself over and over again before I believe it.  Like I told Erin today, this entire semester I've been operating under the mindset of "If it doesn't work out, I can drop out." Call me a pessimist, but I think I might have been waiting for some disaster, even as I packed my suitcases and said my goodbyes. I never felt fully committed to the idea that I was actually going through with this, which is probably why right now it's hitting me like a Texas thunderstorm.

Holy holy holy holy fuck.

Appropriately, Feist just started playing on Pandora -

I feel it all, I feel it all

I feel it all, I feel it all

The wings are wide, the wings are wide

Wild card inside, wild card inside

There are a million things running through my head. I don't feel prepared at all, but then again I don't think I ever could. Tomorrow I fly to Paris with a layover at Heathrow, and from there I'm taking the TGV to Bordeaux.

I told Alex on the phone a few hours ago that I feel like nervousness is supplanting excitement - simply because my brain can't conceive of what's to come. I can't imagine myself alone in a foreign country. I can't imagine speaking broken French to flight attendants and train operators. I can't imagine finally arriving at Gare St. Jean in Bordeaux and scanning the crowd for a sign with my name on it.

All I need to do is calm down and breathe. Good thing that's impossible.

Au Revoir!

So the Frenchies are leaving tomorrow already...



Let the adventures begin!