<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172</id><updated>2011-09-13T08:57:03.469-07:00</updated><category term='preparation'/><title type='text'>Florence: Arts, Humanities and Culture</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-381601516422278978</id><published>2010-12-11T01:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T02:11:28.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm leavin...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DgQmEWf6lEM/TQNJdy7aDzI/AAAAAAAAABg/AvCmcT0OdBM/s1600/wemissyouamy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 160px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DgQmEWf6lEM/TQNJdy7aDzI/AAAAAAAAABg/AvCmcT0OdBM/s320/wemissyouamy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549359942086561586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a train to Rome in t-minus two and a half hours. How did this happen? Where did the time go? I am so incredibly sad to be leaving this town I have come to love, and people I have become so close with, for goodness knows how long. &lt;div&gt;Last night, my friends and I went out for one last night to this really weird/american club. It wouldn't have been fun to go every weekend, but it was perfect for the last night. I got home teary eyed and so sad about saying goodbye and found a wonderful picture, above left, from my friends. HOW WONDERFUL IS THAT?? It made my night, and has made it so much easier to contemplate coming home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight, I'll be staying in Rome and tomorrow I'll be leaving for Scotland. I'll be there for four and a half days before I head on home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, in a few hours, I have to say goodbye to my host mother until I don't know when, and I can't even fathom how many tears there will be. But thanks to some good friends, I know remember what beautiful people I'm coming home to :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-381601516422278978?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/381601516422278978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-leavin.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/381601516422278978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/381601516422278978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-leavin.html' title='I&apos;m leavin...'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DgQmEWf6lEM/TQNJdy7aDzI/AAAAAAAAABg/AvCmcT0OdBM/s72-c/wemissyouamy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-7467046609615951937</id><published>2010-11-27T08:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T08:41:27.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm thankful...</title><content type='html'>That six months ago, I made the best decision of my life. I can distinctly remember spring break of 2010 sitting in my living room and trying to decide: Italy/South Africa, Italy/South Africa. My friends at school had made a poll, and South Africa was winning by a landslide. I had just spent January there, and I think really everyone was expecting me to go back and do the civil justice work I am so passionate about it.&lt;div&gt;But then, sitting there in that living room, I started dreaming in another direction. My mom asked me to simply talk about these two countries, talk about what was drawing me in either direction, to see if that might help. I myself didn't feel I was truly swayed in one direction or the other, but to my parents it was clear. "Your face just lights up when you talk about Italy!" Once I heard her say that, I had to admit it was true. I had always loved the idea of getting back to that particular part of my ancestry, and the more I thought about it, the bigger my smile became. It was decided: go with what makes you happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next six months I kept wondering if I'd made the right choice, not knowing if this meant I'd never again get to see South Africa. I was terrified the day I got on the plane, and was practically sobbing when I said goodbye to my mom at the airport. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now, during the week that my home country gives thanks, I'd like to shout from the rooftops that I am thankful for ITALY and its presence in my life. Sitting around a thanksgiving table in a tennis club in Florence with wonderful new friends, and a woman who has truly become my Italian Mamma, I couldn't stop smiling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is absolutely the place for me. When I decided to go to St. Olaf, I told everyone I wanted to try the midwest because I didn't want to live in the same town my whole life and then one day, at 65 be on a train through the midwest and think "wow, I should have lived here!". Little did I know that when I chose to stretch myself by going to St. Olaf, I'd be opening up a world of opportunity. Not only was I able to experience the midwest, I was also able to find a whole new country that in every way feels like home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sort of wish this experience could go on forever, even though there are of course things and people I miss back home. I really hope that this isn't my final taste of Italy, because now, after 3 and a half months, it really feels like home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm also thankful for all of YOU who read my blog, send me emails, and generally send good thoughts. I miss you all and I hope your thanksgivings were as thankful and joy filled as mine!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-7467046609615951937?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/7467046609615951937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/11/im-thankful.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/7467046609615951937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/7467046609615951937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/11/im-thankful.html' title='i&apos;m thankful...'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-9104653762257801438</id><published>2010-11-21T06:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-21T06:58:33.418-08:00</updated><title type='text'>back home and then back to italy</title><content type='html'>Hello all!&lt;div&gt;I am back in Italy after having returned to America for a week. I went to Boston from Italy, spent a few days there and then flew into LAX. It was a jam packed four days, first a viewing, then the burial and then the funeral (and on the last day, my brothers birthday) and it was exhausting. I am so so glad that I went home, because being with my family is just what I needed. I hadn't seen some of my cousins in years (which is a big deal for my very tight knit family) and my other grandparents and wonderful tante came down as well. It all finally felt real while I was back in Claremont, surrounded by grief and by memories. It was really hard, but I was lucky enough to have friends and family all around me. In fact, my best friend drove all the way from Santa Cruz just to be at the funeral. It's a week I won't ever forget, and I'm forever grateful to everyone in my family who made it happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That sunday, I spent almost 24 hours traveling to get back to Florence. One of the girls on my program put it really well when she asked "does it feel like you just went to space and then came back?" Yes. That's EXACTLY how it felt. There was no such thing as time and food was just an extra thing that people did to feel polite...It was a weird week getting back on track, but I'm feeling confident that I'll be able to catch up on everything and finish all my work before I go back home for real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which is so soon! I only have three and a half weeks left to be here!! My roommate and I have decided we have a lot to do in that time, and we're ready to get cracking. It's still kind of hard to be here, and the grief and jet lag both still hit me in exhausting waves, but I'm determined to soak up as much as I can in the time I have left. My Grammie loved to travel, and specifically loved Italy and I know that she's watching me and waiting for me to enjoy these three weeks as much as possible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's just my little update, love to you all from Florence!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-9104653762257801438?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/9104653762257801438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/11/back-home-and-then-back-to-italy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/9104653762257801438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/9104653762257801438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/11/back-home-and-then-back-to-italy.html' title='back home and then back to italy'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-2299305478723453707</id><published>2010-10-29T05:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T05:53:39.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Travel, and coming back home</title><content type='html'>Ciao tutti!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last saturday, I got back from a weeklong travel to Belgium and Spain. The travel was nice, and coming back home was wonderful. I got off the plane and shouted "ITALY!" I was so happy to be back in a country that I love. It was wonderful to see more of Europe, but it also only confirms that I love Italy and really feel at home here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The night I got back, I wound up going out to dinner alone. I was feeling kind of lonery for going out alone, but was glad to eat my favorite pasta at my favorite place. I wound up sitting next to two Australians, who I became fast friends with. We spent 3 hours chatting, and they let me try all their food (including cow stomach...better believe it!) and then bought me after-dinner wine. They gave me their email and told me if I ever found myself in Melbourne, Australia, to call them. It was wonderful and I walked home feeling like I was on cloud nine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was not, however, a good night for my family. Saturday night my Grammie Ellen woke up in the middle of the night throwing up so violently that she was admitted to the hospital. I called her the next day to see how she was doing. In her typical fashion, she didn't want to talk about how she was. What she really wanted was to talk about Italy, hear about my travels, and wish me blessings on the rest of my journey. I told her to rest and that I'd call her in the morning. However, soon after (I don't know if it was Sunday night or Monday night) she went into respiratory failure and had to be put on a ventilator. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few days later, quietly, peacefully, and surrounded by loving family members, she passed away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I am in Italy feeling overwhelmed by grief, and simultaneously overwhelmed by my inability to grieve so far from home and my family. I'm going to go home for the funeral, and am so grateful to be surrounded by love here in Italy. My host mother, roommate, and professors, and in fact everyone on the program, have been especially understanding. Everyone has encouraged me to go go GO and be with my family. Next weekend, I'll go to Rome with the group and fly out from there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a happier note, my cousin Laura delivered a wonderful, beautiful healthy baby boy this week. Little David was born just one day before my grandmother passed. This week has been all about teaching me the circle of life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you all for your support, please send prayers to my family&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-2299305478723453707?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/2299305478723453707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/10/travel-and-coming-back-home.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/2299305478723453707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/2299305478723453707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/10/travel-and-coming-back-home.html' title='Travel, and coming back home'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-1215866850137574655</id><published>2010-10-08T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T08:23:51.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi piace</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The verb in Italian for “like” is “piace”. When you like something, you say “mi piace!”. Up until yesterday, I was translating this in my head as “I like!” But yesterday, our Italian professor pointed out to us that this actually translates as &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;it&lt;/i&gt; likes &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;me. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Do you know how much this changes for me?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When my Italian Mom was discussing my likes/dislikes, what she ACTUALLY said was “Broccoli likes you, but cauliflower doesn’t”. Which is exactly how I would describe it!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Once again, feeling blessed to be somewhere where I’m free to like whichever foods I do, and eat &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;only&lt;/i&gt; that which LIKES ME!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;small update, I know, but I'm also busily preparing for Jacob's arrival tomorrow!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-1215866850137574655?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/1215866850137574655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/10/mi-piace.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/1215866850137574655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/1215866850137574655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/10/mi-piace.html' title='Mi piace'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-693732536012024485</id><published>2010-10-04T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T06:33:51.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Venezia</title><content type='html'>Ciao tutti!&lt;br /&gt;I have just returned (well, last night) from a weekend stay in Venice! I've uploaded all my pictures to Facebook, and for some reason I'm having a difficult time uploading them here. But let me just say, it was extremely beautiful! I think it was my favorite few days in Italy, for a lot of reasons.&lt;div&gt;First of all, I got to be away from the loud hustle and bustle of Florence, which does get old after a while. Because there are no cars in Venice, it's much quieter than Florence ever is. That was extremely nice. I also found it a very, very beautiful picturesque city. There was so much to do and see, and everywhere you went it was clear YOUR IN ITALY! It was just as stereotypically scenic as you'd imagine it to be. I couldn't believe that I was really there, really in Venice, and really got to be surrounded by a place I'd dreamed of going to since I was a little girl. We went on a gondolier ride on the very first day, which was a wonderful experience. One of my professors was kind enough to give us her morning and take us all on a walking tour so we could see the main sights of Venice. It's an incredibly difficult city to navigate, so it was wonderful to have our professors show us around. We also got a semi-private tour of the Basillica...just a breathtaking place in general. The next day we went to Padua (the namesake for my former neighborhood from senior year) and tour a chapel there which Giotto painted the interior of. Sunday, we went to the Peggy Guggenheim museum and got to see much more contemporary art. Wonderful to be surrounded by beauty in so many forms...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other awesome part was that we were all in a hotel together. It's been kind of hard for us all to coordinate hanging out, since a lot of us live pretty far away. But with everyone staying in one place, it was really easy to hang out with new people and just have a good time. That was some much needed relaxation and breaking of those first groups you tend to get immeshed in when you're in this kind of situation. New friends, fun times, and lots and lots of bonding :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week is our second week of the full course schedule. My favorite class so far is my drawing class. On the first day, when the instructors explained to us what we would be doing I about left I was so intimidated. I kept thinking "I've never done this before! I'm going to be terrible at it!". But I took a deep breath and did it anyway, all the while thinking of my dear Grandma Helen who started drawing later than I in life and is now a wonderfully accomplished and experienced artist. She definitely inspires me when that class gets difficult or I get overwhelmed. Thank you Grandma for setting such a wonderful example of how to be a courageous, adventurous woman!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also helpful is my new friend Alyse who draws next to me. She is taking the opportunity to become a teacher to me. Where she could be insulting or ignore me, she gently corrects me and teaches me new ways to learn and grow. How wonderful to be surrounded by friends like these :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am also continuing my Italian course and taking two courses genearally geared towards art history. Drawing, however, is my favorite. I find it extremely relaxing and enjoyable to try something completely new in life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm loving the emails you are all sending me and will try to respond slowly as the internet is available. It feels so nice to be contacted by all my wonderful family and friends! Love to all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-693732536012024485?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/693732536012024485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/10/venezia.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/693732536012024485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/693732536012024485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/10/venezia.html' title='Venezia'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-5455200310580017712</id><published>2010-09-24T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T14:41:34.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>American in Florence</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Once again, I ask all my loyal readers to be kind to someone they have the urge to make fun of. This week, when you see a tourist taking a stupid picture, or walking in front of a car, be kind to them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because this week, I was that tourist in Italy. The night began on Tuesday with my roommate Madeline and I getting ready to go to see Porgy and Bess at the Theater in downtown Florence. I got all dolled up in a dress and heels, not realizing that the theater was about a 45 minute walk from here. By the time I made it half way, I had such strong blisters on my feet I thought that there were rocks in my shoes. I walked the second half of the way in pain, but unwilling to dirty my feet before the show had even started.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The show itself was really interesting. The music is all in English, but it was really hard to understand what the singers were saying. I’m not sure if it was the acoustics or if it was their accents, but it was interesting to not understand my own language! Also, they don’t turn the lights off for shows at this theater. They dim them, but they don’t turn them off. This meant that in addition to some wonderful music, I got to do some really great people watching. Including drooling over the wonderful dresses/shoes I saw others wearing. They sure know how to dress here.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So the show raps up and my friends and I begrudgingly put our shoes back on. I barely made it out the front door by the time my feet were screaming at me. I absolutely had to take the shoes off, I saw no other choice. The first half of the walk was fine, because I was with others. Once I branched off on my own, however, I noticed some looks. Some laughs. Some people pointing at me. And some words drifted back at me from the first week “Italians find bare feet UNACCEPTABLE”. We have to wear slippers or shoes in our house at all times…so being barefoot on the streets is like…well, I don’t even know what the equivalent would be. Being naked maybe? Enough to make groups of people point and laugh. And I had to walk another twenty minutes that way.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The most frustrating part was that with the shoes on, I totally pulled off Italian. I put them back on for the briefest of moments as I walked through the Duomo (this is an area especially crowded by police, and I wasn’t really sure if it was legal to be barefoot, so I treaded on the safe side). While I had them on multiple people spoke to me in Italian. But the minute I took them off I was stamped with AMERICAN! And worse, TRASHY AMERICAN. It was quite the experience, and definitely a valuable learning experience to see what that side of being a foreigner is like.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The next day, I got the most awful migraine at 1 in the morning. I was up until 4 am doubled over in pain. Finally, I woke up my roommate and she convinced me that actually it &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"&gt;would&lt;/i&gt; be a good idea to take my Tylenol PM. I had been holding off because we had a test in the morning that I didn’t want to miss. She absolutely assured me they’d let me make it up. Of course she was right, but when you’re in pain like that you can’t think. It was really nice to have a friend in that moment, since I couldn’t call home. And my program director has given me a bottle of advil to prevent against future occurances.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Finally, I got a 46/50 on my Italian final! Hoorah! It was quite a good thing I didn’t take it when I was sick, because being well enabled me to do great. I just want to say as an aside right now, it is really hard to think correctly in two languages, so my grammar/spelling is probably going to get worse on this blog as I continue. Probably really good to keep up my practice at writing in English.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Alright, that’s all for now. It’s so nice to hear from you all when I do, so please feel free to email, im or WRITE&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Here’s my address, in case you don’t have it&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Amy Click&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;c/o Linguaviva&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Via Fiume, 17 50123&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Firenze, Italia&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I love to hear from you all, miss you and sending my best to America &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-5455200310580017712?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/5455200310580017712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/american-in-florence.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/5455200310580017712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/5455200310580017712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/american-in-florence.html' title='American in Florence'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-1321370517519371096</id><published>2010-09-18T02:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-18T02:56:41.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>settling</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sorry it's been a while, everyone. I've been sort of settling into my routine here...here's a little update!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can’t believe it’s only been three weeks that I’ve been here! I feel like I finally have a really good handle on the city, I know my way around most places, and I’m comfortable here. I can walk home alone no problem, and I know how to get where I need to go. I’ve had a few adventures in map reading along the way though...a couple of days ago, I needed to find the erbolesa here (kind of like a non-western medical doctor, I guess). I was told to go to a certain street and look for the neon green sign saying “Erbolesa”. I found said sign. It was outside an apartment building. I looked at the names on the buzzers, to see if one was an erbolesa, no luck. I looked at all the neighboring businesses. No luck. I finally bit the bullet and walked up to a nice looking man sitting on a motorbike talking with his friends.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Parlano Americano?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Si, I speak English”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Thank God. I was already half an hour out of my way, hot, sweating, and really confused. He explained that the sign was from where the erbolesa &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;used&lt;/i&gt; to be, and was now just a cool neon sign for his business, which had nothing whatsoever to do with herbs (kind of like the pharmacy sign outside of pizza and such – confusing if you are foreign). He also explained that the real erbolesa was a block away, and there would be no sign to point it out to me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I explained to him that there’s no way I would have found this place without him. Again, thank God for the kindness of strangers! All of you please be kind to a foreigner this week, on my behalf &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type: symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The erbolesa however didn’t speak English with me. I was too excited to correct her, and I got home having no idea if I was supposed to take 3 or 30 drops of this medicine…they sound quite similar. Whoopsies!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The rest of the week has mostly been me settling into a routine. Today, I am headed to Pisa with my roommate and some other new friends. It’s only like an hour away, so it makes for a good day trip. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I’ll try and post pictures when I get back. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ciao!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-1321370517519371096?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/1321370517519371096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/settling.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/1321370517519371096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/1321370517519371096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/settling.html' title='settling'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-982860321178558469</id><published>2010-09-08T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T14:30:42.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me vs. the Universe</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One thing has become very, very clear in the last couple of days. The universe wants me to try new things and expand my horizons! Go beyond your comfort level, says the universe, I’ll make it worth your while. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Here are three stories to illustrate my point:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Cambria;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;1)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Remember how I’m trying new foods? And told my host mom I eat “tutti” (except mint). Well, it was bound to happen that one night there would be something on the table that I would not like. And a couple of nights ago, I just couldn’t stomach the food. I was having a really hard time, but kept at it, telling myself to just try it! And then, once I’d cleared my plate as much as I possibly could – Carmen brought out dessert. Strawberries and raspberries. My two favorite fruits! I had my fill, and said to myself “this is a sign from the universe, keep trying new things!”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Cambria;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;2)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2) The next day, it became clear I needed new sandals. I brought a crappy, cheap pair from target but they are basically no good on the old roads here. I was bound to twist an ankle walking in those old shoes. What I needed, I decided, were Birkenstocks. I made it my mission that day to find them, if it meant going into every shoe store on the way home.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;But do you know how many freaking shoe stores there are in Florence? A lot. A whole lot. Eleventybillion. NONE of them had Birkenstocks. They had knock offs. They had other brands. But I was sure I didn’t want to invest in something I wasn’t positive would be full of grace for my feet. So I kept trying. I decide to try some of my Italian while I was out. In the next store, I asked the nice lady “Ha Birkenstock?”. Pretty simple Italian. Do you have Birkenstocks?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;She looked at me like I was crazy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;I tried “sandals??” standing on one foot and gesturing at the other, like a crazy person.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;She looked at me, shrugged, and said “non capito” or “I don’t understand”, looked down at her book and forgot I was there. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;Well that was ENOUGH. This is when the crazy in me started thinking “I want ENGLISH no one here speaks ENGLISH&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t do this I can’t DO THIS!!!!”. Tears came. I fought them. I went into a bookstore in the hopes they would have just one, stupid, English book I could buy and read. Nope. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;By this point, I was just a block from home and had given up. No Birkenstocks in Florence, after all. I would just have to resign myself to breaking my ankle.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;And then, like a shinning beacon of hope, I saw REAL BIRKENSTOCKS. This shoe store was literally on my block, meaning I’d walked twenty minutes and gone into twenty minutes worth of Italian shoe stores with no luck. But they had them! I didn’t probably get the perfect size, and this man also thought my shaky Italian made me a little bit crazy. But with Birkenstocks on foot, I returned to my flat a confident woman.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;Once again, said the universe, try things Amy. It’ll be okay.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Cambria;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;3)&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Fast forward to today. Today, it rained. I knew it would rain, and still I thought “I’ll wear shorts. It’s been hot the last few days, so shorts sound like a good idea”. I was freezing at school, and it looked like it would rain all day. And, of course, I forgot my umbrella. After class, I went to my usual grocery store for my usual baguette and got rained on. After eating, some other students and I decided we needed to go to the Duomo. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;I should explain that today is a special day for the Duomo. One day a year, on September the 8&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;, the balcony near the top of the Duomo is open to the public. This balcony used to be used for maintenance or some such, and gives a spectacular view of the entire city of Florence. A pretty unique experience! Additionally, it was free. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"&gt;So we decided to go. Halfway there, we sought refuge from the rain to decide if we should continue on and stand in line (only to get soaked) and possibly not be able to go up at all. Might they close the balcony since it was raining? We decided it was worth the sojourn and literally the moment we walked outside, the sky cleared. We didn’t get rained on the rest of the time, or while we were on the balcony. Not only that, but I didn’t get rained on the whole walk home.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast"&gt;So, okay universe, you win. Everyday I will try something new. And I hope to keep getting these sweet rewards. Tomorrow, the Uffizi. Updates to follow &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria;mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-982860321178558469?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/982860321178558469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/me-vs-universe.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/982860321178558469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/982860321178558469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/me-vs-universe.html' title='Me vs. the Universe'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-8403878923178578170</id><published>2010-09-05T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T12:43:32.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinque Terre</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I went with a group from Linguaviva (my Italian school here) to Cinque Terre. Cinque Terre is basically five towns connected by both bridges and hiking routes, and they are all on mountains connected to the sea. They're antiquated towns and just BEAUTIFUL!! Everything you would hope for in an old, Italian town. And this place, as my friend Sarah would say, is psyched on love. It's a very touristy kind of town, and they've decided the best way to sell that is to sell LOVE in a gorgeous location!&lt;div&gt;There is this Italian tradition of a couple taking a padlock, writing their names on it, and locking it forever. At Cinque Terre I believe they throw the keys in the Mediterranean (or at least say they do). There were locks everywhere, and, needless to say, I missed my boyfriend a little! I hope he'll want to go back there with me when he visits. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we walked to the second town, we wandered around for a bit and then got pizza to go and went down to the water. One of the teachers watched our bags while we swam out to these big rocks. Some people in our group jumped off the rocks, while Sarah and I "scored" them. Then gelatto, and then home. It was a short day trip, but so incredibly beautiful! I can't believe I'm so blessed as to live here for four months...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight, Carmen had a very old friend over for dinner. Madeline and I like it when she has company, because we get to meet new people. Right now Carmen and her friend (Amina) are in the kitchen, talking on and on about how lovely Madeline and I are. It's nice to know at least enough Italian as to understand them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On an unrelated note, I am beginning to understand why people eat. If you know me well, you know that eating is a struggle for me. I often say to Jacob or my mom that I'd rather just sit out in the sun and recharge that way...but here?? In Italy?? NO WAY!! I LOVE the food. I am PSYCHED on the food. It takes me forever and ever to eat because I lovelovelove it so much. It brings me close to tears everynight to finally, for the first time in my life, truly and deeply appreciate food.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, yeah, I like it here :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-8403878923178578170?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/8403878923178578170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/cinque-terre.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/8403878923178578170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/8403878923178578170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/cinque-terre.html' title='Cinque Terre'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-5412277973326263000</id><published>2010-09-02T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T06:19:15.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Host Family!</title><content type='html'>I moved in with my host family yesterday! By family, I really mean one person. She lives in such a nice area of town, the cab wasn't even allowed to drive on our street. It was really charming, and she helped us both up the stairs with our very heavy suitcases.&lt;div&gt;Her flat is quite small compared to America, but large for here. The room the two of us share is way bigger than my freshman year dorm room from freshman year. We also definitely have way more closet space than we did freshman year. The beds were much more comfortable than at the hotel, but I'm still having a hard time adjusting to sleeping in Italy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The woman also has a really sweet, adorable cat. That's one of the best parts of living there. As Jacob always reminds me, it has been proven that petting a cat reduces your stress. It's really nice to have an animal in the home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She made us one of the biggest meals I've ever had. Madeline, my roommate, and I were stuffed! We realized later that while we were politely saying "grazie", to tell her we were done eating, she thought we were asking for more. So we were stuffing ourselves full! We had pasta al pesto, pollo, e gelato! I was so proud of myself for telling the host mother that I eat "tutto" or "everything".  As we all know, this is far from true. But I figure this is my chance to try new things and stretch myself! I even had tea for breakfast :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then Madeline and I adventured this morning and found our way back to school. It's about a 20 minute walk, which is great to work off all our many many meals! Class has been fine, and I have my first quiz tomorrow. Send me luck :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ciao,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;amy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-5412277973326263000?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/5412277973326263000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/host-family.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/5412277973326263000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/5412277973326263000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/09/host-family.html' title='Host Family!'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-2515527908337620564</id><published>2010-08-31T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T15:20:18.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>attenzione! attenzione!</title><content type='html'>I had my very first Italian gelato tonight....can anyone guess what flavor?&lt;div&gt;Well, if you know me you are probably wrong! NOT CHOCOLATE!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The gelato was brought to me so I had no choice in the matter. They brought vanilla and lemon and it was quite simply the best taste I've ever experienced. I couldn't even focus on what the professors were saying, I was so distracted by how GOOD it was!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;More significant updates on my life to follow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;buonanotte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-2515527908337620564?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/2515527908337620564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/08/attenzione-attenzione.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/2515527908337620564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/2515527908337620564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/08/attenzione-attenzione.html' title='attenzione! attenzione!'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-970936510661540797</id><published>2010-08-30T04:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T04:10:24.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have arrived!</title><content type='html'>I have arrived in Italy! I have been here almost exactly 24 hours, but it feels like it has been much longer than that since I left America. My flights were both fine, nothing difficult. Though the first flight was a red-eye, and so I am still feeling some significant jet-lag. &lt;div&gt;Once I got to Rome, I started to get a real feel for the difference in culture. I had to really push my way through a huge crowd of people just to get my luggage off of the belt, and I almost didn't see it coming. But then, something amazing happened...someone spoke to me in ITALIAN!! As in, they thought that I was Italian! It was amazing. Except that, of course, I didn't understand them. There was a lady nearby who translated for us so I could tell him that the bags coming in were from Zurich (because I was in Zurich earlier that day...how cool is that??). Then I had to find my way to the train, which was no simple task. Again, on the way over a woman with really long dredlocks and a Brasil jersey on asked me in Italian where the train was. She spoke English as well, and she guided me all the way to Florence. Thank God for her, because I might still be in a train station in Rome were it not for her guidance. I was a little skeptical that this random stranger might just be trying to steal from me. But no, when the train came into Florence her whole face lit up. "I'm home!!" she exclaimed. She really wanted to drive me to the hotel, but it was literally around the block so I walked. But she gave me her name and contact information in case I needed anything while I'm here. Thank God for random acts of kindness :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning, I had my first two Italian lessons. I'm going to really have to invest in learning the language before wednesday. That morning, we are going to a local market to practice our Italian, and that afternoon we move in with our families, some of whom do not speak English. I think there really is no better or frightening way to learn a language than to really need it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soon, I'll be heading off to more registration meetings and then off to dinner. Dinner here takes a long long time, so I might have to nap before that so I don't fall asleep on my antipasta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm also getting fairly good and consistent internet access at the school, so if anyone wants to write to me, feel free :) Love to all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ciao,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-970936510661540797?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/970936510661540797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-have-arrived.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/970936510661540797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/970936510661540797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-have-arrived.html' title='I have arrived!'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952247660329046172.post-3377084014390510981</id><published>2010-08-07T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T13:28:10.692-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='preparation'/><title type='text'>Getting Ready!</title><content type='html'>I just returned from my final Target trip with my mom before packing begins. We hope that the things we got will make me blend in a bit when I'm in Italy. We have also purchased numerous books for me to learn Italian, and learn more about Italian history. I'm in full preparation mode as I get ready to try and stuff as much as possible into my suitcase.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow, I leave for a two week camping trip with my family. Then I have one week back at home before I depart. Unbelievable! Where did the summer go? I was able to meet up with another student who will be in Florence with me, and we are both stunned that we leave so soon. I am, of course, nervous. But I'm also excited to try something so new and to start my senior year in Europe!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6952247660329046172-3377084014390510981?l=florenceacm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/feeds/3377084014390510981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/08/getting-ready.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/3377084014390510981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6952247660329046172/posts/default/3377084014390510981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://florenceacm.blogspot.com/2010/08/getting-ready.html' title='Getting Ready!'/><author><name>Amy Click</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08994227205413936038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
