last of it

it's an odd feeling packing a duffle that has been shoved under a still unfamiliar bed as my weekend roommates sun themselves to american pop songs from 10+ years ago. even though living in a place where i understand about 1/50 of what is going on in conversation, i still find a lump in my throat knowing the odds of ever seeing these great people again.

i guess this is what memories and emails are for, and even though i can't really understand them the majority of the time, i know i will still miss them. though italy will never be able to substitute all that i left behind in the states. the perfection of food and culture here still can't compensate for the opportunity and drive america offers.

italy is a fucking fantastic place. don't just visit the tourist traps and the remnants of history that you learned about as an adolescent. get lost. wander. come to parma. really experience italy in a city in which it is a rarity when a person speaks english, not an everyday occasion like in rome or florence.