As you come to him, the living Stone--rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him--you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 1 Peter 2: 4-5

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

The ABCs of Me
When I graduated high school, my best friend, Karen Cachussie was going to Europe with her mother as a graduation gift.  She had already been to Europe on school trips before, so it wasn't such a big deal for her.  She asked me to go with her.  For me, it was a HUGE deal.  So I asked my parents, and surprisingly, they said yes.  I didn't get to walk in graduation, which wasn't a big deal because we had moved my senior year and it didn't mean much to me to walk with my classmates.
So the day I was supposed to be walking across the stage in graduation, I was on a plane by myself, heading across the ocean for a ten day whirlwind European tour.  We traveled through England, France, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Monte Carlo, Lichtenstein, and Italy.  Out of all of the places that we went and all of the amazing things that we saw, Italy was by far my favorite.
I loved Venice, even though it was touristy and cheesy.  I loved sailing down the canals and seeing all of the old houses along the way where people lived.  Being serenaded by a gondolier in a striped shirt.

I loved Rome and the history.  I have pictures of the teenage me standing in the Colisseum.  And kittens.  There were lots of kittens.
 We went shopping in Rome, and I sat on the Spanish Steps, where a young Italian man gave me a rose.  Right out of a movie, right?
 Climbed to the top of the Tower of Pisa.
Stood under this fountain in the Gardens of Tivoli. 
I loved Italy so much, that when it came time for me to choose a language in college and I saw that Italian was one of the choices, I didn't have to think twice.  Never mind that it was a relatively useless language.  I took two years of Italian with an eccentric professor who told me, and I quote, so please do not think I am crude, that when I said "gli elletrodomestici" he "creamed his pants."  I had the opportunity to go to Italy and study for a semester, but turned it down because I was in luuuv.
It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to visit. 
I really hope to someday return.  To see all of these places with fresh, mature eyes.  Because, really, as a teenager, I was more interested in the Italian boys and no drinking age than learning and experiencing the culture.  I think as an adult I would appreciate it so much more.
Una ragazza può sognare, giusto?
(A girl can dream, right?)

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