Congratulations!

"A big, suspicious envelope came in the mail today from King's... Should we open it?" 
This is the text message I received from my mom late last night, soon after I'd published a post about freaking out about being accepted to university. After reading this message, my nerves went from a level five to a gut wrenching level 10. I replied that yes, I would like her to please open the envelope this very second and to please text me back right away. This is where I began to pace around my bedroom.
I would stop every five seconds and stare at my telefonio, hoping to see it light up before the annoying beeping indicating that a new text message was delivered in my inbox. After what felt like the greater part of a decade, my phone finally shook with a vibrate that was to foretell my future. The news I've been dreading/excited about since I applied to school in January. 

The news that I've been waiting for forever. The news that every time I think about, has caused my heart to jump up inside my throat and choke me. The news that just determined where I will be living for the next four years of my life. The text message read: "CONGRATULATIONS... You got accepted!!!"  I. Got. In. 
I worked so hard at this, that it would have been a shock not to get accepted. More than that, it would've been a disappointment. A great, dark cloud of disappointment and rejection that would lead me to staring at the computer screen blankly for five hours, hoping that if I stared at it long enough, the words would magically go from We're sorry to Congratulations. But it was congratulations. Which means that in late August, I will once again be leaving my small town in the south of Ontario for Halifax. A city in which I have never been to, but am already dying to explore. 
I haven't felt this excited about something since I decided to move to Italy. In my senior year of high school when my acceptances were pouring in from various universities across Ontario, I felt... nothing. Happy to know that I was recognized for my grades and extra curricular, but confused because I wasn't excited. Wasn't I supposed to be running to my mom's bedroom to tell her the good news and to immediately go shopping online for a new school spirited hoodie and search for one in pink? 

It's exactly how a person should feel upon being accepted to their dream school, and its exactly how I feel right now. I knew this was the right decision for me. 
And just what am I doing to celebrate this monumental moment in my life? With gelato, of course! A big cup from Della Palma. I walked through the whole city of Rome, licking and enjoying my afternoon treat with the warm sun on my back and a feeling that is so good, I cannot properly describe it. It's something like when you see your crush go from "In a Relationship" to "Single" on facebook, or when your parents say, "We're getting a new puppy!" or when you win the lottery. I have yet to win the lottery, but once it happens, I'll try to describe that feeling too.
I've spent my entire morning surfing through the universities website, watching video's with information on the school from students and administration, and am in the midst of applying to residence. That's right - residence! The nice thing as well is that all of my resources are exactly where I need them - at my fingertips.
I want to do everything in Nova Scotia, but I also want to venture elsewhere in the Maritimes. I want to see the house of Anne of Green Gables in P.E.I. I want to stand at the edge of Newfoundland and Labrador so that I can touch the edge of Canada. I want to go whale watching. I want to do everything! I have at least four years of my life to spend there, so I'm sure time won't be much of a problem. As for school, I truly am excited to go back. I feel ready, and that it's the right decision for me. Now that I've done some exploring through Europe and found my "writing voice" through this blog, I'm prepared to get my education so that I can eventually work as a journalist and fulfil my dreams. I'm happier than ever and this is the best news I could have possibly gotten. And it came when I was least expecting it. But until I endure the 20 or so hour drive there in September, I have people to catch up with and places to revisit that I haven't seen for almost a year. And until then, I still have some traveling to do here in Europe.

Life Lately

Do you know what it feels like to wait for something that takes so long, you feel as though the thing you were waiting for is actually a figment of the imagination, nothing more than a hallucination of desire? That's exactly how I feel waiting for my university acceptance. Something that I do not even know if I will get or not. According to the University of King's College website, all their admission letter's are sent out on Friday, March 30th, and that a letter/e-mail should be received no later than Sunday, April 15th. That means that potentially, I could know if I will be moving to Halifax for the next four years and studying Journalism at my dream school within one week. No pressure.
In the meantime, I really can't complain. Since today is my day off, I spent the morning shopping and went to the English bookstore, where I picked up a couple new guidebooks on cities I'm planning on visiting. I also bought that cool purple bikini that was in the windows of Yamamay. Then I took the bus to my old neighborhood in Rome to tutor and play with Giulia, the little sister I never had. The bus, sensing my happiness, came right on time, landing me in Corso Trieste earlier than expected. I celebrated this by ordering a generous slice of pizza from the local pizzeria. Well, I guess they could sense my good mood as well, because they gave it to me for half the price it should've cost. A huge, floppy, chewy, delicious slice of pizza with fresh tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese. It had just come out of the oven as I walked into the shop, and the cheese was still hot and bubbly by the time I bit into it. Tonight, as I do religiously every Tuesday, I'm going to Scholar's. I'm meeting up with a couple friends for red wine on the steps of a beautiful church nestled in between Largo Argentina and Piazza Venezia. Since they have to work earlier tomorrow, I'm going to head there alone and see who I run into. And then tomorrow, I have a date with some friends to have a picnic at the park near Castle St. Angelo to sit in the hot Roman sun and munch on grapes for the afternoon. At this point, even if I do get rejected from the one school I applied to, I think I'll be just fine. Or maybe that's the red wine talking, because let's face it - as of Friday, every time I check into my e-mail my stomach will be filled with butterflies.

"F" Is For "Falling In Love"

"F" is also for "Florence", which I did end up falling in love with. The city was a lot smaller than I expected it to be, which made navigating a simple task. When my parents and I arrived at the train station, it only took us 15 minutes to walk to our apartment that we'd rented for three days. Three wonderful, perfect days that I never wanted to end. Our apartment was on the third floor and situated next to a curious old Italian couple who we chatted with every time we waited for the elevator, and we could only communicate with the small amount of English they knew combined with my Italian vocabulary. They invited us into their apartment for more small talk while I wandered about and appreciated the floor length mirrors and beautiful fresco's. Later on the same day, my mom and I picked out a big bag of homemade biscotti and a pouch with lavender to put in a drawer from the markets as a thank you.
Now. The marks in Florence. I could spend an eternity there, wandering around while admiring the tourists and locals as they pick out their fresh finds. In fact, there wasn't a single day where we didn't spend a good chunk of time hanging out there. I got to try honey biscotti, olive oil with fresh bread (dear God, the olive oil...) and cheese. Everything was homemade and grown in Tuscany. 
Then there are also the shopping markets where you can buy clothes, souvenirs, and accessories. Here you can bargain with the shop owners about how much you want to spend. I got a cool ring for both myself and my sister as well as a fantastic purse that I swear I've seen before in a dream. Its a large bag with a long strap and is decorated like a patchwork quilt. The best part about it was that while it was originally priced for 25 Euros, I got it knocked down to just 12.The markets stretch down several streets and all you can smell is fine Italian leather while walking about.
After spending time in Florence, I learned that there is no greater feeling in life than walking through an Italian city with good company while eating free food and getting tipsy off of Tuscan wine. Every day the sun was shining and somehow, I felt like I was home. Not that Florence was anything at all like Port Colborne. What I mean is that I feel as though 

I could actually live in Florence. Forever.  I was comfortable and at ease there, and I think that if I were to ever settle down in Italy, it would be in Florence. Yes, the economy is 

eternally unstable. Yes, the government is completely corrupt and, yes, there is a train, bus or postal strike almost every week, but I do love Italy. Whether or not I would actually want to be this far from my family and deprive my future children of a Canadian education, I don't know.
Il Porcellino (Italian for the piglet) is in the neighbourhood just behind the markets where a famous statue of a boar is. It was completed in 1612 and tourists from all over the world flock to this little piggy to rub its nose for good luck. It also promises a return back to Florence one day, and just to make sure this does happen, I rubbed the nose twice. The nose has been touched so many times, in fact, that the grey colouring has rubbed off, revealing the gold underneath.
The Duomo is the very famous and very beautiful Catholic basilica located in the centre of the city. It was nearly impossible for me to get a picture of the entire thing because it really is that big. Not only that, but the many buildings surrounding it make it difficult to get a clear shot of it. For a steep price, you can climb to the top of the dome that offers a spectacular 

view of the entire city. However, thanks to the knowledge of a friend who previously visited, I learned that you can get the same view from the Bell Tower which is right beside the Duomo for less than half the price. Just something to think about if you ever decide to visit yourself. 
Ponte Vecchio is the famous bridge that stretches across the river separating the south from the north. It was filled with shops selling gold, silver and diamonds.
On our last night in the city, my parents and I ventured back into the empty markets and rode the carousel that runs 24/7. We behaved like children and found a large bookstore not too far away which I was very excited about. The shop was three stories high and offered a "pasta bar" on the first level. My parents kept themselves occupied with that while I wandered about, picking up Italian novels and running my fingers along their spines, wishing that when I opened the books they would magically make sense to me, as if I spoke fluent Italian all along. Of course this didn't happen, but there was an English section that I got lost in. I ended up buying a book called Between Shades Of Gray, and spent the rest of the night reading it while drinking a hot chocolate.
On the train back to Rome, my dad was seated in a different cart than my mom and I. Our company was a tiny, wrinkled old Italian woman who talked non stop and was oblivious to the fact that neither of us were fluent in her beautiful language. I was able to pick up some of what she said, but this woman talked so fast that her words were speeding by faster than the train itself. My mom asked her if she spoke English, and when she kept babbling on in Italian, she said aloud, "Honey... I think this woman is nuts." This woman told us that she was taking the train all the way to Napoli, and that she couldn't wait to get back to her casa. That explained so much. I told my mom that this woman wasn't crazy, but rather that she was from Naples. Everyone knows that people from Naples are loud and don't have any fears whatsoever. As I listened to her rant about cheese (I heard the word formaggio in there somewhere), I drifted off while the olive tree fields and rustic houses blurred by.

Venice The Menice

The wonderfully talented and wise Elizabeth Gilbert had an interesting point of view on Venezia. She wrote in Eat, Pray, Love: "Venice seems like a wonderful city in which to die a slow and alcoholic death, or to lose a loved one, or to lose the murder weapon with which the loved one was lost in the first place. Seeing Venice, I'm grateful that I chose to live in Rome instead. I don't think I would have gotten off the antidepressants quite so quick here. Venice is beautiful, but like a Bergman movie is beautiful; you can admire it, but you don't really want to live in it."

I can see where Mrs. Gilbert is coming from, although for the first time, I disagree with her opinion. On the one hand, I, too, am glad I chose to live in Rome for a handful of reasons

that I have already expressed throughout my blog. However, I didn't find Venice to be depressing even though it is sinking, murky, dirty and crumbling. I was too distracted by the magic of it to be bothered with any depression that might be associated with it. I fell in love with this fantastical city, and felt as though I was living inside of a storybook that some creative genius came up with. Someone must have written a story about this far away land, and I fell into it down the rabbits hole Alice In Wonderland style.
The question that I think we all want to know the answer to is who decided to build an entire city on water. I mean entirely! The whole thing is sitting on top of water and every year, the water level rises, which means that eventually this fairytale city will be lost beneath the cold, clear waters of the Adriatic sea. When I told my host father about my parents and I taking a trip to Venice, his eyes lit up with excitement as he said, "Venice?" He paused for a minute. "That's my favourite city in the world, you know." These are the words of a man who has travelled across almost every continent on the face of the earth. He told me to get a really good map and find some off-the-beaten paths so that I could see the city's true beauty. Of course I took his advice, and of course he was right.
The most beautiful spots in Venice are the ones that no one knows about. There are alleys leading this way and that, some to townhouses that look as though they're toppling over one another with a tattered Italian flag dancing in the wind as well as clean bedsheets and soccer jerseys. Other alley's lead you to untamed gardens filled with wildflowers and stray cats, but most lead to dead end canals. And Venice would not be complete of course without the hundreds of thousands of pigeons and their loyal companions of old ladies who spend the rest of eternity feeding them pieces of stale bread.
Luckily for me, my friend Rhianne used to live in Venice and sent me some tips and tricks on what to do and see in the City of Romance. She described Venice as "a strange, wonderful place that you just really need to go out and walk around in order to get an impression of how beautiful it is." Another lucky thing was that my friend Jordan who used to be an au pair in Rome was currently living in Venice as an au pair on the island of Lido. First of all, it was fantastic to see Jordan who is hands down the most adorable person I have ever met in my entire life. She has a sweet little British accent and looks like a prettier version of Snow White. She has dark brown hair, ice blue eyes, and red lips. Jordan also has a fabulous collection of floral, lace, and all-around beautiful dresses that she wears in even in the dead of winter. I love Jordan.
We met in the middle of the Rialto Bridge that crosses over the Grand Canal. I introduced her to my parents and she took us to an area where all the locals hangout. Although Venice is obviously a very famous city, there aren't many people who are actually residents. Its mostly made up of tourists due to the inconvenience of the city. Personally, I could never actually imagine myself living in Venice. There are absolutely no cars, which means that whenever you want to get anywhere, you have to either walk or rely on a boat. It isn't that walking is a problem (except when winter comes). Its just that if I wanted to do groceries, how would I get them home? If I wanted to take a long drive with just myself and the radio for company, I couldn't. If I want to get somewhere in the middle of the night or far away from mio casa, I would have to wait for the water bus. Which is much like a real bus, but fortunately much less crowded with more seats and a breeze. If you need an ambulance or a cop, they would arrive in their own boats, as well. I just can't imagine living that way forever, although it was nice to be a tourist. One of the most interesting places I went to in Venice was the Jewish Ghetto, where The Merchant Of Venice was filmed. At the beginning of the 16th century, it was declared that Jews were allowed to live in Venice, but were confined in a small area. The only thing they could do to live comfortably was to build up, which is now why the tallest buildings in Venice exist here.

We spent our last day licking gelato on bridges, walking through San Marco's square, and enjoying the last Venetian cuisine we could get our hands on. The famous drink in Venice is

called the Spritz and is typically an appertivo. It consists of white wine, sparkling water, and your choice of either Aperol or Campari. I personally like Aperol because its sweeter where as the Campari is more bitter, and there is also a slice or chunk of orange floating around in the glass. Another traditional Venetian treat is the fritole, the prized dessert that is served at the Venezia Carnival. Fritole is a sweet, doughy little cake that is almost the size of a timbit (I'm sorry if you're not a Canadian and don't understand what this is). It's fried dough that is decorated with candied fruits, most commonly raisins.

Upon leaving this fairytale land, I had some time to think on the boat ride to the train station. It was kind of funny, this feeling I had swimming deep inside of me. I knew in my head that I should be sad to be leaving this lovely place, and that I didn't know when I would see it again. Yet at the same time, I knew it wasn't goodbye. I will absolutely visit Venice again and return to this city that cannot be compared to any other place in the world. A city that is really so much like a maze, where one can get lost with just one wrong turn. I used to think I was intelligent when it came to directions, and after visiting Venice, I know I'm a genius at it. I really impressed myself with how easily I managed to memorize the streets, alley's and bridge points. I'll find my way back.
If anyone is planning or ever considering taking a trip to Venice, I recommend for you to read the document that Rhianne sent me that is full of interesting facts and information on the city. http://word.office.live.com/wv/WordView.aspx?FBsrc=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fattachments%2Fdoc_preview.php%3Fmid%3Did.360710163949296%26id%3D838fbb651d9d8493c9fbc9d499acb760%26metadata&access_token=767740857%3AAQBZG_8Atyx2QOC5&title=Venice+for+Michelle