Rosso e nero

I'll do a real post later, but I needed to document one of the funnier things that has happened so far. At dinner tonight, Liz and I were talking in broken Italian with everyone about how we might go to a soccer game on Sunday. The two teams playing are Florence and Milan; Florence, obviously, is the city we live in, and Milan is Lorenzo's team. (Lorenzo, however, refuses to go to the match because the only seats left are in the Florentine section.) Liz asked what would happen if she went to the Florentine section and wore red and black — Milan colors. The table erupted in Italian, and Titta said over everyone, quite forcefully and in English, "No, no, that is not—" and here she stumbled for a word, and came up with "...useful." It was about the funniest thing she could have said and I have no idea why. Liz and I laughed for about five minutes and promised we wouldn't wear red and black if we go. And don't worry, everyone else laughed too.

A note on dinner

Florence, Italy

9.05 PM

Dinner here is a ritual. A delicious, delicious ritual. Liz and I have to be home by 8.30 or we have to call and say we won't be coming, because dinner is at 8.30 and they expect us to be home.

Dinner starts, every night, with a pasta course. Gabriella apparently makes it only for Liz and I because we're the only ones with bowls at our places and we're the only ones who ever eat it, but neither of us mind. After that, the bowls get whisked away and it's time for the main course. This is always, always delicious, and every night Gabriella cooks everything. Last night it was huge hunks of mozzerella with bread, and that was the least gustatorially delightful.

The TV is always on during dinner and it is always the same show: Striscia la notizia. I haven't been able to figure out a direct translation yet, or even what the show is, but from what I can gather it's a national program that recaps the news of the day but in sketch form. There are two hosts, who are a gorgeous young blonde Swiss-Italian woman and an older man who dresses "hip," and they have different news correspondents who dress up in superhero costumes or suits made entirely of euros and go interview famous people, like the royal family or Senators. I can barely understand anything but the whole show is ridiculous and I enjoy it immensely.

Dinner conversation moves fast; Gabriella, Titta, Guenda and Lorenzo talk quickly about things and sometimes they ask us about school or if we are going out that night, and Liz and I scramble to form sentences like "School was very long and tomorrow I must walk from Piazza Savonarola to Santa Croce in fifteen minutes" or "I'm staying home tonight because I'm really tired and I have homework." We know they're talking to us because we hear our names, and I have to say that I love the Italian accent. Kate becomes "Ket" and Liz, "Leez." We talk with them for a little bit, and they're wonderful because they talk slower and don't laugh when we don't know words or mix up genders or endings or meanings, and then the conversation turns back to them. I love simply listening to them talk because I think Italian is just a wonderful language to listen to, and sometimes I can pick things up. Usually I know enough words to be able to follow along very vaguely.

The main course ends after Titta, Gabriella and Lorenzo have tried to get Liz and I to eat more of everything at least twice. Then they clear the table (they won't let us help; we ask every night) and Gabriella returns from the kitchen with smaller plates and another set of forks and knives, and moves a huge platter of fruit from one table to the dinner table, and everyone eats fruit. Normally I go for bananas and mandarin oranges, but tonight I had a kiwi. Every single night, Gabriella eats at least one apple, normally two; she cores and peels the whole thing with a knife and by the end there's a huge stack of apple peels on her plate. When Guenda eats fruit, she eats oranges, and she eats them entirely with a knife and fork.

Then comes sweets. This is either a huge platter of chocolate or some kind of cake that Gabriella produces. Keeping in theme with the meal as the whole, this is also delicious. After the sweets, we get "Volete caffè?" and my answer is always yes. We drink tiny cups of coffee with huge amounts of sugar and then dinner is over.

The reason I mention it is because dinner tonight was epic. I was just thinking yesterday, after the dinner of solely mozzarella, olive oil, and bread, that I was really craving meat, and Gabriella read my mind. Along with the starting pasta course, there were little pieces of bread with spread on them. The main course was incredible. Thinly-sliced prosciutto and hunks of Florentine cheese, home-grilled hamburger patties, salad, cooked cauliflower, and yet more delicious bread. It was by far the best meal I've had here. I couldn't even have any fruit. I am now deliciously full, and it is time for homework.

Since last Saturday, part two: Venice

Florence, Italy

10.48 PM

Now to recap the last two days.

I woke up very early on Saturday morning — and no, this isn't by my own standards. Six thirty is early to everyone, right? Anyway, the train station is actually fairly close to my house, so it was just a twenty minute walk to get on the train by 8.30. I went to Venice with a group of five other girls: Lyndse, Natalie, Becs, Celi and Tavia. The train ride took three and a bit hours, and with just one transfer in the Bologna station, we were in Venice! And it was one of the more beautiful things I've seen. I couldn't believe that I was actually there. I almost still can't.

The day was pretty high-energy. We got off the train and wandered around for a while to find some food, since none of us had eaten and it was about time for lunch anyway. After lunch, the first order of business was buying masks. It was Carnevale in Venice, which is the time of year when pretty much everyone in the world comes to Venice to see everyone go crazy. Just walking around, I heard French, Spanish, German, eastern European languages and what I think was Arabic, and that was just what I was able to pick out. Most tourists buy masks from one of a thousand stands with mass-produced masks, but we actually found a small shop where the owner handmade all his masks, and the owner was incredibly sweet. He was so fond of us and he actually gave us discounts. I was so fascinated by how personal everyone's choice of masks was; no person's mask would have looked as good on someone else. With the handmade store, we had that option; all the masks at the stands were formulaic. Gorgeous, but formulaic.

So we picked out our masks and then started wandering again. This day was basically made up of walking all over Venice — we looked at beautiful stores with delicate glass pieces or incredibly delicious-looking chocolate or, of course, masks and costumes. Becs and I made a trip to our hotel on the island of Lido, so we got to see the city from the ocean that first day, which was a sight I'm not likely to forget. It's just so beautiful. It was really hard for me to comprehend that I was actually in Venice, which is a place I've wanted to go for a very long time but never thought I would actually get to. We had dinner at a little pizza shop and it was so delicious!

Also during that first afternoon, we all chipped in for a gondola ride. They're fairly expensive, but with six people we were able to get a pretty good deal. It was such a different experience from the ferry and from walking around — so slow and peaceful, and we were in the city itself so we went under bridges and were close to people. We were all wearing our masks and people kept taking pictures of us and it was just so cool. I don't have enough adjectives to describe Venice.

And of course, all of this was interspersed between walking around and seeing the sights. Venice goes crazy for Carnevale, so people were wearing elaborate costumes and the entire city was packed with people. It was insane. Unfortunately the festivities which were supposed to happen on Saturday were postponed until Sunday because two men who were working to set up the Carnevale stuff died, so the city was in mourning. That was a little disappointing, as was the fact that a lot of bars and clubs were closed at night. We walked for hours and hours looking for somewhere to go, but ended up going to the hotel with the intention of freshening up. Of course, once we sat on the beds it was impossible to move again. I was so exhausted by that point that I actually fell asleep in the middle of a conversation with Natalie, with all the lights on.

In the morning, we woke up and explored Lido a little bit before taking a ferry back to Piazza San Marco, which is where everything was centered. We caught the Flight of the Angels, which is traditionally when beautiful women in angel costumes fly on a line down from the top of the belltower in Piazza San Marco to the ground, but we just saw a man, and "Gangster's Paradise" was blasting over the loudspeakers. I found out later that the man was Coolio. Yeah, I'm also confused as to why Coolio was in Venice, but hey, I'll take it in stride.

After the Flight of the Angels, we got back on the ferry and just took it all the way around the city to see the most of it. The whole trip took about an hour, but it was still just relaxing and beautiful. We had seats on the outside of the ferry so we could see everything, but in the back so it wasn't so cold. And it was here that I made my fatal mistake, because I left my purse on the ferry when we got off.

We went back to Piazza San Marco after that, where festivities had started up on a stage that was set up, and at that point, my friend Natalie was certain she saw Celi, another of our friends, holding my purse, but we had gotten separated. So I spent a few hours being nervous but feeling reassured by Natalie's certainty. But when we continued to not hear from that other group, I got anxious and started heading back to the ferry stop at which we had debarked. On the way, I got a call from Celi saying she did not have my purse. Of course that was horrifying. The man at the ferry stop didn't speak much English but I did speak enough Italian to get across the "I lost something" idea, and he pointed me towards the Piazzale Roma, a thirty minute ferry ride. The whole time I was so anxious and sad and nervous. It was absolutely awful. My purse had my money, my passport, my keys to my house in Florence, my iPod... the only things I had in my pockets were my phone and my camera.

And then I got to the main office, and there it was. Completely intact. Everything still inside. I couldn't believe how lucky I was. I still can't. I have been so paranoid about keeping track of it since then — it basically had the same effect on me as if I had lost it for good.

The process of losing, searching for and finding my purse took almost three hours, believe it or not; Venice was so packed that what should have been a five or ten minute walk took twenty minutes to half an hour. By the time I got back to the Piazza San Marco to meet my friends, we had all decided to head over to the train station, which was maybe a forty minute ferry ride. I didn't even meet up with them before turning around and hopping right back on the ferry.

By the train station, we went to a grocery store to get snacks for the train ride home, and sat and watched all the people passing by. We sat for a while by a group of Native American performers who completely enthralled a group of little girls dressed up like Disney princesses, and then headed to the station to get good seats. After another transfer in Bologna, we were back in Florence, and just a twenty minute walk after that, I was home.

This entry does not correctly convey how incredible it was. Other than losing my purse, it was two days where I was entirely in awe at the beauty and grandeur of a place built on water. You don't notice it when you're there, but the fact that there are no cars or mopeds is so strange. Everyone walks, and you don't have to worry about getting run over. The canals add something that is unequalled anywhere else in the world, and being there for Carnevale was something else. It was an incredible trip. I'd love to go back sometime when it's not so packed and see more of what the city has to offer, but even if I don't go back, I'm so satisfied with what I did get to see and do. It was an absolutely fantastic weekend and I'm so thankful I had the chance. I'm pretty sure Venice at Carnevale qualifies as a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Since last Saturday, part one: classes and the first weekend day

Florence, Italy

2.20 PM

I just cannot believe it's been over a week since the last time I wrote in here. I have to get better at keeping track of time! I blame the first week of classes and the number of errands that I had to run, which meant that by the time I got home at the end of the day, the last thing I wanted to do was write about how exhausting my day had been. But I have a long stretch of time here, so I'll try and get you up to speed.

As I mentioned, classes started up last week, and with them came the realization that I had been switched into an Italian class that starts at 8.45 in the morning rather than 1 in the afternoon. Now, I've learned after two and a half years at college that I just don't function well in morning classes, so this change was initially alarming and I ended up being about ten minutes late to the first class. But things have evened out since then; I've decided that I actually like the change because it gives me the entire afternoon free on Mondays and Wednesdays. The class is a little frustrating right now, because although it is Italian 102, most people in it haven't taken 101 for several years, so we're doing simple things that I just learned last semester. But I'm sure it'll pick up, and I really love the professor — she actually helped write one of the texts we're using, so she has to be good.

I'm taking two art history courses: Masterpieces of Art, and Etruscan and Roman Art and Archaeology (that last one is a mouthful, no?). Masterpieces is not what I expected it to be, at least not yet — I thought it'd be a survey course, but it's more a study of pieces that are symbolic of a period of art. Each week for masterpieces we have one class that is on site — last week it was at the Palazzo Vecchio, this week it's at a church called Santa Croce. In addition, we have what is called "Looking Assignments," where we have to go on our own somewhere in Florence and do a short write up about whatever it is we're looking at. The professor is a little fusty and very set in his method of lecturing, which is to speak slowly and in a monotone into a microphone for an hour and a half, but I'm sticking with it because it'll cover so much of the art that saturates Florence.

Etruscan and Roman etc. is an entirely different story. It's right up my alley — I've always been extremely interested in Rome, and the professor is engaging and talks quickly. The class is small but not too small, and I just love it. We've only had one real class so far, but it was my favorite by far. This class includes a field study trip to five different Etruscan cities on a two-day trip, and then, the crowning jewel, a trip to Pompeii and other sites by Napoli for three days. I'm so excited and happy to be going to Pompeii with someone who knows what he's talking about — I've been wanting to visit Pompeii since I was about seven, and though I'm sure I'd do fine by myself, it's fantastic to have the opportunity to visit it with a professor whose specialty is basically Pompeii itself.

My final class is called Italy since 1870, a history course detailing Italy after unification in 1860 and through the world wars. It also includes a fair amount on the formation of the Sicilian mafia, which fascinates me; to that end, we have a trip at the end of April to Sicily, to see some of the sights but also to work in fields that have been confiscated from the mafia and given back to rural Italian farmers. The professor in this class is Italian and speaks with a very thick accent, but she's aware of her accent and speaks slowly enough that we can catch everything. She comes off as a sort of no-nonsense type of woman and I feel like she'll be one of those professors who is hard but who you love anyway.

Almost every night that first week we had meetings in the early evening, and then I'd head home for our dinner, which is at 8.30 every night. It's such a long time after lunch! I have to get better at eating a small snack around four, because otherwise I'm ravenous by the time 8.30 rolls around. After dinner, I was so exhausted that I could barely move from the bed, and I'd fall asleep early, only to get up early and do the whole thing over again.

That Friday, the 25th, I signed up to go to an all-school trip to Assisi, but I somehow slept through my alarm, which I've never done before — I guess it's a sign of how tiring that week really was! In any case, in lieu of going to Assisi (and don't worry; there's another trip this weekend for which I have already signed up), I went out with my roomate Liz and some of her friends. We went to an open air market and walked around for a few hours just looking at everything — there were streets and streets and streets of booths and at least a third of them were leather stores. After the open-air market, we headed over to the Piazza Santa Croce, where an annual chocolate festival was going on. The chocolate was incredibly delicious and incredibly impressive. It was also packed with people. And after that, we started heading home, only to get distracted by a flea market. I found an Italian translation of a book that I loved in English (the first Artemis Fowl book, if anyone knows it) and bought it for just one euro — I figure I might be able to stumble through it with a dictionary and work on my Italian as I go. After the flea market, it was off to a small cafe, where we shared a bottle of wine and chatted. We don't get dinner with our host family on Fridays, so Liz and I went out for sushi, of all things. Like everything else here, it was delicious.

Friday night it was early to bed, because Saturday morning I left for Venice! My tales of Venice are coming up in the next entry — stay tuned for masks, angels, and the story of how I left my purse on the ferry.

An unwasted Saturday

Florence, Italy

10.42 PM

Despite my ability to sleep far longer than any human being should sleep, I was up and moving around at nine this morning. I like this. It leaves me the whole day to do things; this is helpful because it's about ten times safer to be out and about during the day than it is during the night, not to mention the fact that taxi fares are automatically cheaper.

My rising early this morning was even more impressive because Liz and I didn't get in until two in the morning last night. We met up with some of her friends from her college and went to a bar near the Duomo, which turned out to be a mistake, in my opinion. Since it was near the Duomo — a very touristy area — everything was grossly overpriced. And since it was immediately evident that the bar was full of drunk tourists, overly-sleazy Italian men were out in full force. I just avoided them, and luckily the girls I was with didn't want their attention any more than I did. We had a good time sitting in a corner and yelling over the music, because all of us were pretty tired from the week.

Liz woke up a little bit after me, and after a breakfast of Special K and bread-toast with Nutella, we headed out to go buy books for school. But since we were walking everywhere, we took our time. We walked into the downtown area without any mishaps and were appropriately awed by the Duomo, and since it was open to the public, we went inside and spent a really long time taking pictures of everything. It is more impressive than I could ever describe, and pictures can't really express it. It's just massive, and because other buildings in Florence are tall, you'll just be lost downtown and turn a corner and oh! There's the Duomo. And then you know you're in the center of the city. It's also beautiful. I looked it up on Wikipedia today because I realized I know woefully little about it, and among other things, it is the fifth-largest cathedral in the world with a capacity of 30,000 people; the total construction took over 170 years; the dome is made of brick, was not built using any sort of scaffolding, and weighs over 27,000 tons; and one of the Medicis was assassinated on the floor inside. It's absolutely incredible.

After doing the tourist thing, we found our way to the bookstore, where I made the mistake of buying my schoolbooks. It was a mistake because we ended up just wandering around Florence for the next three hours. We visited the Palazzo Vecchio, though we didn't go inside, and walked by the Uffizi gallery, and went over the Pontevecchio. The bag holding my books tore apart somewhere after the Pontevecchio, and we were going to take a bus home, but then realized we were close enough that it was just stupid not to walk. I ended up cradling the books in my arms and having to set them down every time I wanted to take a picture (which ended up being about every block we walked), and by the time I got home I could barely lift my arms anymore.

Liz and I just relaxed at home until dinner. Dinner in Italy is a very big deal. It is almost always a sit-down meal, and, obviously, it's when I come face-to-face with the language barrier. Every night since moving in I've been able to catch the gist of what is being said by my host family, and I'm astounded at how quickly Liz and I are learning to understand them, even if we're not good enough at Italian to respond.

And the food. Gabriella has put out a multiple-course meal for us every night. We start out with pasta. Today it was penne with the best pesto sauce I've ever had, but it's been meat sauce or red sauce and it's always delicious. Tonight the pasta was followed by a platter of tomato and mozzarella slices, with sides of corn off the cob and a special cheese made near Florence; the nights before, it has been chicken of some sort. After the main course, we each have a piece of fruit, and then sweets. I'm continually amazed by how good everything is, as well as how willing I am to try things I have never liked in the past.

Tonight after dinner, Gabriella's oldest daughter came over with the man I assume is her husband. I didn't catch her name, but Liz and I sat with them in the living room while they watched a TV show. The show was really strange, but from what I could figure out, it was a sort of "war of the years" idea. They showed clips from different years and had guests representing each one and at the end people vote on which year was better. Or something like that. On this show, oddly enough, was the little boy from La vita é bella. (The same boy, I discovered, was also the child in Gladiator.) He was fourteen and gawky, and his year lost.

It's one of Liz's friend's birthday, so she left about an hour ago to go to a club for a small party. Once again, I'm exhausted, and am staying in and relaxing. I'm still okay with that. There won't be many weekend days spent lazing around here in Florence; between school field studies to other cities and my own traveling, I'll either be away or extremely tired. I really don't mind spending my days out and my nights in — especially with this current schedule of getting tired before midnight.

Speaking of traveling, some of my friends and I are going to Venice next weekend for Carnivale. I could not be more excited! There aren't any school trips to Venice, and it's one of the places I promised myself I'd visit before leaving Italy. Not to mention that Carnivale is world-famous. So far it's just five of us, and we'll be staying in a hostel. People who are more responsible than I am are organizing and booking everything, so all I have to do is make sure I pay the person who booked my reservation and get on the bus/plane/train. As you can see, there are still a few details to work out, but the hostel is booked, and we're going on Friday. Incredible.

Gabriella eccetera

I know it's just later the same day but so much has happened already. I met my family! I have to admit, the family I got was not what I expected — I feel that, like most people, I expected a kind of nuclear family, with a dad and a mom and some kids. Instead, I got a woman in her mid-sixties who lives with her two grown daughters, who are in their early thirties. The woman's name is Gabriella, and her daughters are Giuditta (Ju-DEE-tah) and Guendalina (Gwen-da-LEE-na), or Titta (Tee-tah) and Guenda. There's also a random man who was at dinner tonight; his name is Lorenzo and I think he must be the boyfriend of one of the sisters, I think Guenda.

Titta is the only one who knows more English than random words, so once again, I got to be really excited by how much Italian I can piece together to get my point across. I could say all the introductory things — where I'm from, what school I go to, how long we've been here and if I knew anyone — and then I could actually talk with relative speed about Tim and Abby and soccer. Lorenzo follows soccer, and I think his team is Inter Milan; he was so surprised to find out that I knew some Italian teams! And when I told him and the table about my siblings and how both of them won state, I got a bunch of "Davvero?!" ("Really?!"). I'm better at Italian than my roommate at this point, but we both expect to learn a lot in the next few weeks.

My apartment here is on the third or fourth floor of a huge apartment building. It was hell to lug my suitcase up the stairs, and I felt so bad for Liz (the roommate) because she had three huge suitcases. I had no idea that someone could find three suitcases worth of stuff to bring to a foreign country. And why would you want to? What a hassle it must be! But Liz is very very nice. She's not like a lot of the students here, which is a relief, because I've been unpleasantly reminded of middle school by a lot of the mannerisms. It's hard because all the Syracuse University students came with groups of friends, so the students who have no one just kind of wander around trying to meet people, with varying degrees of success. My levels have been pretty good so far, and I'm excited to start classes and meet more people with my interests.

Speaking of classes, we register tomorrow. If all goes well, I'll be taking classes with field studies in Pompeii, Herculaneum, Napoli, and Sicily, and those are just the places I can think of off the top of my head. This isn't counting the all school field trips and the museum visits that I'm sure I'll go to in the art history course I want to register for.

It's still almost surreal to think about being here, so for the most part, I don't. Everything is still incredibly hectic, and I'm sure after things calm down and we settle into a routine of classes, it'll be easier for me to look around and go out at night. Because right now I'm just completely exhausted by about ten at night, though that could be due to the jet-lag or the fact that orientation is just exhausting in general. Either way, I'm really looking forward to going out at night — and sleeping in on Saturday morning.

Buongiorno!

I'm here!

The flight from Portland to Frankfurt took over ten hours. It was absolutely insane. I don't really know how I passed the time — I read for a while, I ate the food (which wasn't so bad!) and I watched Hairspray when it was on. One of the most memorable things for me was being offered a complimentary cocktail about an hour after we took off. I know it dehydrates you, but I couldn't turn it down; it made me feel so old and worldly! So I had a tiny vodka tonic and felt sophisticated and over 21.

The flight out of Frankfurt was delayed for maybe forty five minutes, and we got into Florence at maybe two in the afternoon. And of course, they lost my one bag. I had to fill out all this paperwork and they eventually let us go. And finally, we were actually IN Florence. Driving around on a bus and getting to our hotel. I made a friend in the Frankfurt airport named Lyndse Yess who is actually from Eugene, and she and I ended up rooming together. Our room was small but clean, and it had a balcony, which very few rooms did. Unfortunately it has rained the whole time I've been here, so we couldn't really hang out on it, but still. It was nice to go out for periods at a time. After a group dinner that first night (a full dinner, with three courses and waiters that came around to serve each time), Lyndse and I both passed out. It must have been 9.00 at the latest, but both of us had been up for over 24 hours.

In the morning we woke up and had breakfast, then hopped on the bus for the orientation activities, which were basically lots and lots of meetings. Then we hopped back on the bus for the ride to the Villa Rossa, which is the main building of Syracuse University in Florence, the building where I'll have my classes. There was a lot to do yesterday, and I was really efficient — I set up my computer for wireless use, picked up a few cards (SUF students get a pass that lets us into an state-operated museum in Florence for free), bought a cell phone and made an appointment to see the doctor.

Did I mention that? I need to see a doctor because about two and a half hours before I got on my plane for Frankfurt, I stabbed a knife through my left index finger. Yes. Not into. Through. I ended up in the immediate care facility about two hours before, where they eventually gave me a band-aid and sent me on my way. I couldn't believe it happened. Never a dull moment in the life of Katharine Wills!

Last night (Wednesday), I took a cab from the Villa Rossa to our hotel with a few other girls, and it was one of the most exciting things I've ever done because I was able to talk to the cab driver in Italian. I asked where the best pasta in Florence was, and he told me the restaurant and the street it was on, and said that Florence was famous for "bistecca"  — steak. He didn't speak any English at all, but I was still able to talk to him. It was just amazing. Later, my two friends (their names are Tavia and Becky) and I went to the supermarket and bought some wine to drink after dinner, and I talked to an old Italian lady who said asked where we were from when she heard Tavia and I talking, and made a kind of "uh-oh!" face when I said "americana." Then she said were were cute friends and told me about her friends who lived in Chicago. I got to say I knew someone in Chicago as well. Talking to someone in another language is hard, but I really do think it shows you're not a boorish American if you at least try to make an effort. In any case, I was elated to know that I'm semi-conversational after one semester of Italian.

As I mentioned, Tavia, Becky and I bought a bottle of wine last night to have after dinner. We ended up each having one small glass, along with a tiny bit of bread-toast and cheese, and then zonking and going to bed. Some of the people here have been out both nights until the wee hours of the morning, but I personally feel that I'll have months to go out late, so when I'm exhausted at 10.00, I should just go to bed at 10.00. Especially while still dealing with jet lag, and especially especially when I have to get up at 7.30 the next morning.

This morning Lyndse and I got up very early, had a quick breakfast, checked out of the hotel, and then were bussed to the Villa Rossa, where I am right now. Since I was so efficient yesterday, I have a little free time when people who weren't as on top of things get to catch up. This afternoon we meet our host families, and I'm incredibly excited. I found out that they only speak Italian to us, which means my Italian will grow in leaps and bounds. I hope my family has small children or even a dog, but I don't really think I'm expecting anything. I just want to go home.

And I'm out of free time! Off to the next orientation meeting. I hope you're all well, and I miss you all! I'll post my cell phone number once I figure out what it is — all incoming texts and calls are free for me.