FSB '13

An Open Letter To FSB 2013

Dear Fake Spring Break,

You did us well FSB, and for that we salute you. Many important lessons were learned this week, and I'm definitely not referring to what was said in the classes we literally dragged ourselves to every morning. For example, we now know that British boy bands can easily begin their careers with karaoke in an Irish pub, Combine Harvester is a top notch musical number, 21st birthdays are a celebration/dance party for all, Domers travel in packs, and just because you live in a city doesn't mean you can't get lost in it...twice.

I would just like to say, you've successfully left our lives in shambles and for that we thank you.

So cheers to the Londoners who brought on FSB 2013. Based on photo evidence and social media alone, it was a pretty great time. Hope to top it soon in Barca/London.

Sincerely,

The Orphanage

P.S. to any adults reading this, never fear. We basically just sang karaoke four nights in a row. but really, because when it comes to Celine, thats what you must do.

Do You Hear the People Sing?!

I know this is a short post and a week overdue and yes, I am currently siting in my religion class with Father Mark in front of me, in his tweed sweater and Burberry coat talking about marriage (smick problems), so I’ll make this brief.

Last weekend I was in Paris, trying to dig up that old dusty box labeled high school French from the shelf labeled Useless Knowledge in my brain, and eat as many nutella crepes as humanly possible. Even now, a week later, I continue to ask myself if it is possible to actually fall in love with a city, because I honestly am convinced that’s what happened.  To quote first grade MJ, “if you love it so much why don’t you marry it?” well, sounds like a plan to me. I’ll marry Paris, eat crème brulee, shop down the Champs Elysees, lounge on Sundays in the Luxembourg Gardens, and be happily Parisian for the rest of my life. …sounds like a plan first grade MJ, sounds like a plan.

I was enchanted by it all.  I mean have you ever even heard French? It sounds like cursive, that’s really the only way to describe it.  It sounds like cursive and the steam off of hot chocolate.  Everything about it is beautiful, but I guess everything about France is beautiful too, so it makes sense. All I know is, when Adria and I were reunited on the streets of the greatest city in the world, everything was perfect.  If I could live anywhere, that’s where I would be; sitting in a café, eating crepes, and reading by the Seine forever.

So for some basic touristy information that I’m too distracted to put into paragraphs slash its hard to do this while pretending to take notes on the papal conclave (kidding mom, of course I’m paying attention in class…)

PARIS IN A NUT SHELL:

1.     There is nothing better in life than a nutella banana crepe, and this is actually not an exaggeration. They changed my life. Food will never be the same after the moment I took my first bite. It’s magic. … if you think I’m lying I dare you to prove me wrong. You won’t be able to, but you’ll get a French nutella banana crepe out of the deal so I’d jump on this if I were you.

2.     The Eiffel tower sparkles. And when it does it looks like a princess dress. So props to you Eiffel tower, you are a monument of my own heart. Plus perspective Eiffel pics are hilarious to take.

3.     I ate snails. From the girl who didn’t eat bread…give me some credit for this.

4.     Notre Dame is stunning, even when abroad.

5.     I think I could live inside the Louvre, never see the light of day again, and still not be able to see everything inside. But the Mona Lisa has a great smize (if you don’t know what this is, go watch America’s Next Top Model).

6.     If you want to go under the Arc de Triomphe, let me just tell you now that the entrance is across the street, through an underground tunnel …but apparently sprinting through the busy street works too, if you’re Frogger.

7.     At the bottom of the Seine, right off the Pont des Artes live thousands of keys, breathing beneath the running water.  I know this for a fact, for one is mine.  And all those keys are promises to people, mine for my best friend in the whole world.  Millions of promises, locked on that bridge, whispering to one another from the bottom of the river.  It’s pretty nice isn’t it, almost like magic.  And on that sunny day, closing my eyes and throwing that key, that’s how it felt too, and I graduated from wizard school in Schoolcraft, so I’m an authority in matters of magic. So Cori, cheers to you and I, cause we’ll be friends forever thanks to Paris.

8.     Singing, “Do You Hear the People Sing” around the streets of Paris may seem like it makes sense but people will stare at you, I promise you that.

9.     There is nothing like a sunset from the steps of Sacre Coeur, as the city blinks it’s eyes open to a million lights and the night stretches around you, that moment is perfect.

10. NUTELLA. BANANA. CREPES.

Paris, I’ll be back for you. One day, I’ll return, especially since you have Chipotle now, I think we can make this marriage work.

Orphanages Updates #3

Twerk Team (Sunday Edition)

1. White Houses- Vanessa Carlton --- theme songs don't die
2. Snap Yo Fingers- Lil Jon --- SNAP YO FINGAS
3. Hard Knock Life- Annie --- if you don't understand this yet, just go.
4. Coming Back to Me Now- Celine Dion --- there are two types of people in the world, people who jam to celine and people who are not our friends.
5. Boxer- Mumford and Sons --- nap playlist staple.
6. Colt 45- Afroman --- in honor of FORT WAYNE'S FINEST 
7. Chain Hang Low- Jibbs --- myspace song circa '06
8. Titanium- David Guetta --- Baby Spice jam.
9. Bohemian Rhapsody- Queen --- because that was an amazingly embarrassing snap vid.
10. Photograph- Nickelback --- WHAT THE HELL IS ON JOEY'S HEAD

to be continued...

John Denver Sure Knows How to Sing

so something strange happened to me today.  while going on my usual run around the river, crossing the bridges and weaving in and out of people walking home from mass in the noon sun, i think i tricked myself into believing i was back at home.  Beneath the cloudless sky my breath evened out in time to Country Roads, and my feet composed a rhythm, naturally leading me down my familiar tree lined path.  Maybe it was the mix of the sixty degree weather or the long-memorized country songs singing through my speakers, but i swear for that half hour I was in Schoolcraft Michigan.  I was taking a run around the track in the early summer afternoons.  Watching my feet lead me forward, feeling the breeze ruffle my sweatshirt, I was back home. And then I stopped.

It was weird, but it was like I realized all over again that I was in Rome.  Sometimes I just have to repeat the sentences in my head and standing on the side of the bridge, out of breath from my run, that's what I did.

I am not at home. I am not at school. I am in Italy. I am standing on the sidewalk. I am breathing. It's hard to breath. My heart is racing. I'm sweating. This Notre Dame sweatshirt was too warm for today. It is March 3rd. Why is it so warm? It's snowing at home. It's cold there. This is not home. I'm in Rome.

Rome. Rome. Rome.

It's like I forget sometimes, and I need to remind myself, and when I do I'm overwhelmed with a sense of ..."I can't believe I'm here," all over again.  Being here on a regular basis, you get caught in a sense of routine and become desensitized to everything.  The Pantheon becomes this thing you walk by when you're on your way to the store, the food becomes something you eat in a hurry when you're late for class, and the whole country becomes just the place you're living between traveling weekends.  In a way it's good. Every time I'm away, on those long weekends after touring around a new city, I get an urge to return to my routine and my bed. My little home back in the Tiziano. It's always there waiting for me, with it's easy familiarity and peace.  Rome is peace to me now, its no longer new but comfortable... and that's nice. But still, I have so little time left here that I never, not for a moment, want to forget where I am.  I need to constantly remind myself to take it all in. No one likes to hear the story of an abroad student who forgets she's abroad...

So after my run I went back, threw on a sundress, and went out by myself and let the day take over.  I shopped down the streets by the Spanish Steps and wandered around the stores crowded with Sunday shoppers. I let my mind wander over things.  Things that are trivial and don't deserve to be typed for all to see, things that just float in and out of my head like a whisper, and things that are important and you have no business knowing, I had time for all things today.  After hours lost amongst the clothes, strangers, and thoughts that made up my afternoon, I headed back to the hotel.  About a block away, I stopped.

Well here I am.

I am standing in front of the Pantheon. The sun is directly above it. The shadow falls across the square but standing on the fountain is warm. There was no need for a sweater today. The sky is faultless. I'm glad I brought my sunglasses out. There is a violin playing.  He's good, very good. The melody sounds familiar, but I don't know why. This building is so tall. If I could climb up and sit on the top I would be invincible. I bet I could catch a breeze up there. I'd put it in my bag and zip it in. It'd be a good souvenir, an Italian Sunday.  I'm smiling...I probably look ridiculous. I'm happy. Today was good. I'm standing in front of the Pantheon in the piazza, surrounded by people. Everyone's talking. The words are there but strange, and yet I recognize some. Lilting Italian. I'm in Italy. This is Italy. Not South Bend. Not Schoolcraft. Rome.

I probably sound crazy, but maybe people who've been away for a long time will understand. Lines between homes get blurry and confusing, but in the end it's not about which one is which.  It's about a feeling you get, a feeling of rightness when you are where you should be.

Today was a nothing sort of Sunday. If you skip this post in the blog, I wouldn't blame you at all.

 I still have Country Roads stuck in my head. I'll let it stay there for a while. Maybe it'll remind me of home, but then again maybe it won't anymore.

The Conflicted Clock

COUNTDOWN CLOCKS

is this real life?