My program ends this week.
Maybe if I repeat it enough, it'll sink in? Because it hasn't so far. I simply can't believe that this is it - these are the last days I'll probably ever spend in Macerata, Italy. I've hit the point where everything is a countdown - possibly my last trip to the grocery store, possibly my last pastry ever in this particular bar (false, I plan on binge eating pastries before I head back to the land of the pastry-free). The concept of being at home is really hard to grasp. It's like seeing that the air has a consistency (as painters of the Renaissance knew and depicted in their super sweet life-like paintings... can you tell it's finals week?) and knowing that my hand is in the air, but being one hundred percent unable to hold the air. Does that extended simile make sense? Probably not. I'm ready for some Mexican food, to play with my puppies, and to sleep in my own, non twin sized bed, but the idea that I'll be doing all those things in less that two weeks is so crazy.
Whatever. It's all kind of a moot point since I'm actually not headed home until the 28th of April. I promise to post one or two last posts about my travels post AHA, especially because I'm so excited to share the glory of Pompeii with all my fellow archaeology nerds out there, but for now I'm in the goodbye mood since Macerata has been home for so many days and now I don't know if I'll ever be back. On that note, this blog post is entitled with the Italian way to say goodbye forever (it basically translates to, until we meet God). Hopefully, it's not literal for me, but the sentiment just about sums up how heartbreaking it is to leave.
Last night was our program's farewell dinner - and I think they were trying to put as much good food in us as completely possible - meats, cheeses, assorted appetizers, two plates of pasta, pork (and applesauce!) before an ice cream dessert. The best part of the meal was when Angelica started predicting our futures. Luckily, she sees me opening a restaurant with my roommate, though I'm not sure if it's because we're the best cooks she's ever seen in her cooking classes or if we're just such good forks (to be a good fork is to clean your plate, or be a good eater). Considering how much of the food I ate, it's probably the second.
Maybe if I repeat it enough, it'll sink in? Because it hasn't so far. I simply can't believe that this is it - these are the last days I'll probably ever spend in Macerata, Italy. I've hit the point where everything is a countdown - possibly my last trip to the grocery store, possibly my last pastry ever in this particular bar (false, I plan on binge eating pastries before I head back to the land of the pastry-free). The concept of being at home is really hard to grasp. It's like seeing that the air has a consistency (as painters of the Renaissance knew and depicted in their super sweet life-like paintings... can you tell it's finals week?) and knowing that my hand is in the air, but being one hundred percent unable to hold the air. Does that extended simile make sense? Probably not. I'm ready for some Mexican food, to play with my puppies, and to sleep in my own, non twin sized bed, but the idea that I'll be doing all those things in less that two weeks is so crazy.
Whatever. It's all kind of a moot point since I'm actually not headed home until the 28th of April. I promise to post one or two last posts about my travels post AHA, especially because I'm so excited to share the glory of Pompeii with all my fellow archaeology nerds out there, but for now I'm in the goodbye mood since Macerata has been home for so many days and now I don't know if I'll ever be back. On that note, this blog post is entitled with the Italian way to say goodbye forever (it basically translates to, until we meet God). Hopefully, it's not literal for me, but the sentiment just about sums up how heartbreaking it is to leave.
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| Our last "family" dinner! |
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