Amsterdam is fun, Amsterdam is good. Not everybody goes there, but everybody should. It was inspiring. It was beautiful. It was a really far out happin' place, man.
How do I even begin to describe Amsterdam? I could answer this question by quoting Mean Girls, beginning with the fact that Amsterdam is flawless. There is nothing that a person could desire in life that is not found in this fantastical land. I have been anticipating writing this blog post for several days now, and I'm so excited to tell you all about my trip.
On Wednesday morning, I arrived at the Eindhoven airport, which is approximately two hours away from the city of Amsterdam. The reason why I didn't fly directly into Amsterdam was because it was more expensive, and so from the airport, I took a bus which allowed me to enjoy a journey where I was able to pass through Holland's countryside. Eindhoven was great because it allowed me to enjoy the beautiful views of tulip gardens, windmills and farmer's. Not only did I get to see a part of Holland that many people ignore when visiting the country, but it was also cheaper. I arrived in the actual city at 10 am, and words can not properly describe what I felt upon stepping off the bus and into the city of Dixie bikes and canals. My friend Shayna who visited Amsterdam in April of 2011 described Holland as, "The land of tulips, tall people, and all things legal. You can get away with just about anything, except maybe for murder."
Amsterdam was a breath of fresh air (literally). I was immediately mesmerized by it, and I was like a kid in a candy store. Its kind of hard to describe, but if you believe in past lives, something inside of me kind of clicked. I knew my way around immediately, and it was almost as though I'd been there before. What did I want to do first? The question gave me a rush of excitement that I could not handle. I decided to go to my hostel first called The White Tulip, located in the Damrak area where I checked in and locked my bag in the storage. Then I introduced myself to my roommates, grabbed my purse, my map, and headed out into the unknown.
The first place I wanted to visit was The Anne Frank house, something that has been on my bucket list since I ever even knew what a bucket list was.
During my entire vacation, I almost felt like a local, because I definitely blended well. While being here, I realized that I do not have enough orange clothes in my closet. Normally, orange doesn't work for me (I'm a summer), but orange is the colour of Holland because it's the Queen's favourite colour.
Every April 30th, the entire country celebrates her birthday (Queen's Day) and dresses up in orange. Knowing this, I knew it would be foolish for me to leave the country without sporting something orange.
On my last day in the city, Chris and the other boys who stayed in his hostel all wanted to visit the zoo, and so I tagged along with them. It wasn't different from any other zoo, but it was a great day and a nice way to spend my last moments in the city. It also happened to be one of the guys' birthday, so we went out to a nice Italian restaurant on the Damrak for dinner. I got a plate of gnocchi and ordered a vanilla sundae with chocolate fudge running down it's side like a skier on the Swiss Alps with whipped cream and slices of pear on top for dessert. It was the perfect meal to end my vacation. Other things happened during my time in Amsterdam that, as I mentioned before, are too inappropriate for me to document for the entire world to see, including a story involving a stripper and a banana. But let's not open that can of worms. That's all I can tell you about my time in wonderland, and I hope you enjoyed a little glimpse into my four day getaway.
Samuel Johnson once said, "When a person is tired of London, they are tired of life." I could not agree more with this quote. And, by the way, I am so sorry to keep you all waiting! Here's the thing: my sister arrived in Rome last week and I was far too busy to sit down and organize my thoughts, especially while having to pack for my trip. I didn't mean to neglect you all, but now that I'm here, I'm ready to jump head first into a detailed description of one of the greatest cities in the entire world - London!
My sister and I went to the Ciampino airport last Saturday morning to catch our flight, which only took two hours. I forgot how much I love to fly. I seem to have this love-hate relationship with airports, because as cool as they are, they're also stressful.
We didn't have any problems whatsoever, but once we stepped off the plane, Nicole and I were whipped in the face with a cold wind. I prepared myself for it by layering up and packing an umbrella and pair of gloves. I suppose I really shouldn't be complaining. The weather wasn't that bad, but at 9 degrees, it felt like a far cry from Rome (when I came back last night, it was 30 degrees out!). It was really easy to navigate around the city because London has a fantastic transportation system. The buses and tube were easier than the instructions on the back of a Kraft Dinner box.
We stopped at London Bridge station where our hostel was located just down the street. It was an all female hostel called The Oasis which was part of a chain called St. Christopher's, where my friend Chris Madronich was staying. Him and I went to daycare together and have known each other for the majority of our lives. We spent the day doing a little sightseeing and catching up with each other. The great thing about hostels is that you meet people from every corner of the world and learn about other people's cultures, as well as sharing your own. There were a surprising amount of Canadians in London, and it really made me realize that even though Canada has a small population (compared to its geographical size), we're well traveled.
On the second day we went on a walking tour with a guide who I can only describe as "zany." This woman was originally from New Zealand and took us around the main sights of the city such as Buckingham Palace, the changing of the guards, Prince Charles and Camilla's home, and more. (Side note: It was from this tour guide that I learned that the British call rain boots "Wellies", due to their former Prime Minister Wellington who invented the rain boots). But during the tour, Nicole and I had to leave early because we had to meet up with Carlie Smith, a girl who I went to high school with. She's been a close friend of mine for the past several years, and, like me, she decided to travel and move overseas. She's been living in England, not too far from London, and will be for the next two years. We met right outside of the Parliament building where we also walked and saw views of the London Eye and Westminster Abbey.
Seeing friends from home was great, and I was so happy to be able to explore a new place with old faces. During our entire trip, the weather was fairly decent, aside from a bit of rain on Wednesday.
But with my umbrella featuring the British flag and candy coloured Wellies, I didn't even mind. We did a bit more touring around the city and went to a store called Primark which my friend Rhianne suggested and that Carlie described as "the Galleria Mall on drugs." It was a huge store that was packed tight with full of people who were all fighting over piles of insanely cheap clothing. I ended up buying a cool sweater with, once again, the British flag that was found in the men's section. I kept coming up with cool scenarios of myself wearing the sweater at university this upcoming fall. It's perfect for walking through the quad as orange coloured leaves crunch beneath my feet, or when I want to occupy myself by studying in the library. What scenario I didn't see coming was running into someone at the hostel who was wearing the same sweater - a guy who was in his early twenties. I was able to redeem myself by complimenting him.
As my sister and I are avid Harry Potter fans, a must stop was the King's Cross station where we took pictures at Platform 9 3/4. Another stop we made was Abbey Road, the famous road where The Beatles crossed. Later on during the same day, we walked over to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre where Mr. William himself used to showcase his famous plays. Unfortunately, the original building is no longer there, but it was remodeled and is in the exact place of the first theatre. We spent most nights in the Chill Out room at the hostel with all the other travelers playing cards and drinking games.
On our final day in the city, my sister took a train to visit the WB Harry Potter studio where the films are shot, which gave me some time to wander around on my own. I visited a bakery close to the hostel where I bought a single $3 cupcake that was piled high with rich, sugary vanilla icing and had more calories than days I've lived. I almost went into a sugar coma afterwards, and it was worth every single bit. When my sister returned from her tour, we visited the Tate Modern Museum. One of my favourite things about the city is that the museums are free, offering its residents and citizens a price tag free experience through a gigantic building filled with impressive art.
London is a fantastic city where I was able to speak fluent English for the first time in eight months, see friendly faces, and witness some of the world's most notable landmarks and pieces of art.
Someone asked me a great question the other day, and it was probably the best question that anyone's ever asked me in the history of my short life. "What do you want to do with your journalism degree?" Alas, I have yet to even begin the first of my four years that it takes to obtain my honours diploma, but it's never too early to start thinking about what you want in life.
I don't have an answer to that question, but rather, that I have many answers that could go along with it. I hope that whatever I do involves a lot of writing, which makes working for a magazine company sound like a great idea. I think I would do really well in something like Cosmopolitan magazine because I have an interest in everything that the magazine represents.
Another path I might be interested in taking is writing for a travel magazine. Companies will
actually hire journalists to be flown (or cruised) all over the world and write about their experience at certain resorts, beaches, and restaurants. I think being a resort critic would probably be one of the greatest jobs in the entire world.
Then there's my dream of being a writer for a film or television production. I would love to sit around a table all day surrounded by intelligent and creative people while coming up with scripts and ideas for the latest season of a show like The Office. I think that I would be really good at it.
But there's something more than all of these ideas combined that I cannot get out of my head. My friend Shayna recently announced that she's considering moving to Prague to attend film school, where she can work on documentaries. Documentaries! What a fascinating job that would be. Could you imagine working for a company like National Geographic while exploring the rain forests in South America? Or traveling to the west coast of Australia to work on a story about a new species of squids? I think documentaries are the coolest.
My ideal job would be to sit down and talk to people and interview them while educating others. I like asking questions, getting answers, and picking people's brains. And I would want to uncover interesting subjects like cults, human trafficking, and drug wars. I don't think there's anything that a person couldn't do in their life if they were determined enough. There are plenty secrets to success, but this is what I think. There are billions of people in this world, and plenty of jobs that need to be done. Someone has to fight for justice, so why not you? Someone has to fight fires and rescue families from burning buildings, so why not you? And someone has to come up with new inventions to make the world a more innovative place, so why not you? Absolutely anything is possible, as long as you're willing to work hard for it. While luck may be on the side of some people, those who become true successes in today's world were not handed everything they have. If you're willing to work, you can be and do anything you want.
Once upon a time, my gender had the responsibility of finishing high school, then getting married, having children, and having a career that meant cooking and cleaning. Unfortunately, there are still some places and people in the world where this type of lifestyle still seizes. I want to take advantage of everything that those in the past sacrificed in order for me to have today. I can vote, drive a car, and have a career. I can do anything I want, and I refuse to be one of those people who waste their freedom by having low goals. No matter what kind of family you come from, what kind of neighborhood you were raised in, or how much money you have in your bank account, you can be anything.
I'm really lucky that I have so many people around me who are full of encouragement. My family was so proud of me when I got into the University of King's journalism program. My best friend Emily has collected every article I've ever had published and congratulates me every time one comes out in the local paper. And I have two gentlemen in my life who are professional journalist's who are always giving me advice, ideas and pep talks on writing and the field of journalism. And having you reader's follow my blog adds up to a wonderful support team that is just an extra push on my journey through the road to success. I'm lucky to have all of these people in my life, and it makes me not sad about those who used to be in my life who aren't anymore, because they're the ones missing out.
I want to make people laugh even when they're having a bad day. I want to educate people on issues that aren't commonly talked about by exposing them to the world. I want to make a difference by giving people a voice who have something to say. I want to talk to people like Erin Brockovich, Lisa Ling and Elizabeth Gilbert. I want to dive into the unknown and explore every corner of the world. I want to write novels that allow reader's to learn about a world that goes far beyond whatever city or country they grew up in. I want to make people think in different ways and see things in another perspective.
Someone has to do it, so why not me?
Summer has arrived! Well, at least it has in Italy! The weather is getting hotter than the new purse on display at Louis Vuitton and today was a whopping 27 degrees. So when Jeanny asked me if I wanted to spend the day at the beach with her, my immediate reaction was to pack my beach bag and head down to Ostia with her. Ostia is the beach in Rome that everyone flocks to between April and October, when the city is lingering with bus exhaust, millions of people, and humidity. Escaping to the sea was just what we needed, and apparently, hundreds of other people had the same idea.
This morning I grabbed the beach bag that came with the awesome purple bikini with the cool print I bought here in Rome with my beach towel, reusable bottle of water, and some fruit. Jeanny and I met up at the train station where we stopped by the market before hopping on the metro and bought some cookies and paninis (tomato and mozzarella for me, salami for her). Unfortunately, I was an idiot when I got dressed this morning, and paired a long sleeve white shirt with Daisy Dukes and black leggings underneath. Clearly, I had seriously underestimated today's weather forecast. I knew that if I had wanted to survive the stickiness of the metro where people are packed tighter than sardines in a can, then I would have to shed some layers. Of course, the bathrooms cost 50 cents in the train station, and being the penny pincher that I am, Jeanny and I found a semi private area in the train station where I stripped down to my bathing suit bottoms and got changed. I don't think anyone saw, but as soon as I was done getting dressed while doubling over in laughter, I stuffed my leggings in my purse and we headed off. This taught me a truly valuable lesson - you can't really call a person your best friend until they've helped you get dressed in a busy train station.
After the metro ride was over, Jeanny introduced me to this incredible gelato shop (and I mean incredible) that had really cheap prices and delicious flavours. On the way to the beach, I got blueberry and cotton candy. On the way back, I got watermelon and blueberry again. Although I've been super committed to my new workout regimen and healthy lifestyle I've been working on for the past couple of weeks, well... I hate to join the bandwagon as I seriously cannot stand this expression, but... YOITO. You're Only In Italy Once, right? Hopefully not once, but after June I don't know when I'll come back, and I feel responsible for enjoying this treat as often as I possibly can.
Jeanny and I decided to jump into the sea. Oh, did I say jump? What I meant to say was timidly tip toe into the beach's edge where we screamed at the frigidness of the water. It wasn't so terrible, though. After a while it felt better, and the further we went out, the less cold we were. It's April, and I've already been swimming! Hopefully this sunburn will fade soon, because I'm supposed to go to a picnic at Villa Pamphili tomorrow.
Villa Pamphili is my European oasis. I've spent the past several days here jogging and working out. The park is massive and is filled with these cool trees that look like the ones from The Lion King, and there are plenty of beautiful fountains to admire. Not only that, but there is also a beautiful pond with willow trees that is inhabited by swans and turtles. When Kelsey and I went for a jog together on Thursday morning, we literally saw dozens upon dozens of turtles there. Most of them were average sized, but we saw a bigger one with a pointed nose that had to be a snapping turtle, and a mini baby who we called Piccolo (Italian for small).
I'm also hoping my sunburn fades soon because I have my trip to London next Saturday, and Amsterdam the following Wednesday. It feels like everything is coming up so soon, and time really does fly when you're having fun. I have so much to look forward to, and it's hard to believe that in a week, I'm going to visit two new countries I've never explored before.
You know that scene in Home Alone where Kevin realizes that his parents left him in their giant king sized bed while they jet off to an exotic location for Christmas? That's exactly how I feel right now. And what a wonderful feeling it is! Since my kids go to the French school, they have holidays galore. Their last day of school was Friday, and they have a vacation that lasts over two whole weeks, giving me free time to do whatever I please in Rome until my trip to London and Amsterdam. The family left early this morning and I had yesterday off, so I feel more free than ever.
When I woke up, the house was quiet. I could actually hear birds chirping instead of the loud
Italian voices that are usually the soundtrack of my life here. No crying, no arguing, no conversation, niente. It was beautiful. Although au pairing has it's benefits, I seriously needed a break. I set the breakfast table up elaborately and took my sweet time starting the day. I had every kind of fruit and yogurt imaginable laid out in front of me with an Italian newspaper by my side (I can understand it now, by the way!). Then I asked myself my favourite question; What do you want to do today? The options were endless. I decided that I wanted to soak up some sun after last weeks constant rainfall. I wanted to read more of that book I bought while shopping in Florence.
I want to relax. And so I did. It's late afternoon now, and I've spent the whole day being lazy up on my rooftop. I tanned in the sun for a bit (with sunscreen, or course). I took a nap. I read a good chunk of my book. I leafed through my Amsterdam guidebook. I ate some fruit. And then, after several hours, I came back inside to observe the slight tan I got and grabbed my laptop, only to go back up to the rooftop and type a new blog post. I have never felt as free as I do right now. I can see nearly all of Campo dei Fiori, and the sun is hot hot hot. I'm relaxed and happy and I've never felt as good as I do right here, right now.
Tonight, my friend Kelsey is coming over for a sleepover where we'll drink red wine, eat popcorn, share stories and watch a movie in the screening room. She's not coming over until after dinner, so I still have time to do whatever my little heart desires. Since I'm feeling so alive, I'm going to go burn some of this energy off by jogging towards Castel St. Angelo and then take an extended bath filled with scented candles, classical music, bubbles and champagne (why not start this party early, right?). Everyone should have a day like this once in a while.
Tomorrow is also the one week mark until my sister flies to Rome. Life, as I know it, is so sweet right now. I hope everyone else is feeling the same way. May your night consist of good wine, good friends, and dancing barefoot on rooftops.
Lately, I've been getting a lot of e-mails and questions from students who went to my old high school, and other students in my hometown. Most of the people who have peppered me with questions are in the 10th and 11th grade and have told me that they've spent hours thinking about how confused they were about what classes to take that would ultimately lead them into the right universities for their chosen program. What does one do when they have to choose courses for the upcoming fall and doesn't know what to do? They book an appointment with their school guidance counsellor, of course.
I was fortunate to know that I wanted to study journalism since I was 13 years old, when an article I wrote about the rise of childhood obesity was published in my local newspaper. I got my fifteen minutes of fame, and I loved seeing my name in print. But more than that, I knew I had a passion for writing, and that I wouldn't be one of those people who had absolutely no idea what to do with their life. I was so lucky to know at such a young age what I wanted to do. My mom says that when I was a child, she caught me in her mirror while driving. My sister and I were both sitting in the backseat while she was beside me in my car seat. She was reading a book, and I was jealous. Anything she did, I had to follow suit. I, too, was trying to read a book, but was holding it upside down. Also, we had this nightly tradition for my mother to read to my sister and I before bed. We would crawl under the covers while my mom recited a few chapters of the latest Junie B. Jones novels or something else that we loved. As any parent wishes, my mom had wanted me to succeed in learning to read on my own. And I did learn - fast. And as soon as I learned how to read on my own, I took everything off the bookshelf and began reading on my own. I think I broke my mother's heart a little by ruining our tradition.
While clicking on the "read" button on e-mails and ripping envelopes open to read the
"Congratulations!" that loomed inside, I felt empty. Happy to be accepted and recognized for my talent and honor roll grades, but surprised at how little I cared. This says a lot, considering I am a person whose excitement of winning $3 on a lottery ticket is greater than the average person who wins the jackpot. I'm loud and full of emotion. So upon being accepted to each of the schools I applied to, I should've had a heart attack. This is how I knew that something was very wrong.
I've always had a knack for traveling. Don't be fooled, though - I come from a middle class family, and traveling throughout North America and Europe does not mean I have a Swiss bank account. All it means is that my passion for exploring the world is so great, that I was willing to save up money and actually do it. My first ever vacation was when I was five years old and in kindergarten. My mom picked my sister and I up from school, and as we were leaving the building, we ran into another student who lived next door. "Where are you guys going?" he asked. "Mexico!" my mom told him. I remember him not believing us, and it was then that I realized that Mexico must be somewhere far and special. But I was too young to understand much, even though I had seen suitcases scattered across the house filled with summery clothes and bathing suits.
Then I went on an exchange program in France for my second semester of grade 11. And after getting a taste of Europe, I knew I had wanted to return. And so instead of going to university, which I wasn't excited about, I did return. It began with a visit from one of my best friends Shayna. Shayna graduated the year before me, and had moved to Milan to work as an au pair and take a gap year. She encouraged me to do the same, and I opened up about my feelings about university. Then I slowly told everyone I knew what I had wanted to do, and the response was surprising. My family was all for it. My parents, my sister, grandparents, cousins, and everyone else with whom I shared blood had told me to go for it. And yet my friends rolled their eyes after telling them about my dreams. They told me that they didn't really think I would do it and that I was being totally irresponsible for not furthering my education.
I'm not really close with those people anymore, because our friendships changed. Or rather, I changed. I don't really know. While I don't disrespect them for taking the comfortable route by living at home with their parents and going to school in our area, I couldn't relate to people who had scrutinized me for wanting to do something different. And now, I am finding out that many of the people I knew from high school are switching their schools or programs because they weren't satisfied with what they got. Even those who are happy in their own situations have told me that they regret not doing what I did, because I did something unregrettable. Everyone talks about the dream of traveling through Europe after school, but how many people actually do it? I wanted to be one of the few people who chased after my dreams.
And so here I am in Rome, Italy. I made an appointment with the Italian Embassy in Toronto to obtain my travel visa that would allow me to stay overseas for over 3 months. I extended my health insurance. I booked my ticket. I found a job. I became an au pair, which is necessary for me to live somewhere rent free while still making money. I've been living here since September, and I don't regret it one bit.
I also found out from a couple people that one of my school's guidance councillors has continuously used me as an example when students come into her office and freak out about their futures. She tells them about me and what I did, and offers them my name and e-mail to speak with me over the Internet about my experience. I love it when people are interested in taking a gap year, and I encourage everyone to do it. Most people who are 18 years old do not know what they want to do with the rest of their lives. It's a huge decision, and at such a young age, you aren't exposed to the experiences you need in order to not have regrets. You've been sitting in a classroom for the majority of your existence with nothing but a two month break in between. But it is in my own personal belief and experience that a person becomes who they are upon solitude and travel. Everyone needs to do something that scares them.
Someone once asked me if I wanted to go to Europe to find myself. "I'm not going to find myself," I replied. "I'm going to create myself."
I know now who I am, what I want in life, what I don't want in life, and what kind of people I enjoy spending time with. I have transformed from a high school student to a mature young woman who wants to make her mark in the world through her writing, and who enjoys poking fun at herself and making other people laugh at her own expense. But even though I know who I am, I recognize that I am still so young, and have so much to learn. I can't wait to see where I'll go, who I'll meet, and what other lessons I'll learn throughout the course of my life. So far, I'm more than happy with it, all because I took a risk that turned out to be well worth it.
For anyone who isn't sure about pursuing their post-secondary education right away, here are some words of advice. School and home will always be there. The opportunity to hone your craft or learn about biochemistry in a classroom aren't going anywhere. But how often does the opportunity to travel through Europe and be young and free arise? If you feel prepared and satisfied with going to school right away, then congratulations. That's wonderful, and I'm sure that if you're satisfied with that, then you're making the right decision. But if you aren't, please don't waste your time or money or worries on something that you're not 100% sure about. As the brilliant Robert Frost once said, "A person will sometimes devote all his life to the development of one part of his body - the wishbone."
So what are you all waiting for? The world is a book, and those who do not travel only read one page. You only life once, and life is too short to be comfortable. For those of you reader's who are older and wish you had taken the plunge in your youth, there's still hope. Age is defined not by the number of birthday candles on your cake, but how old you think you are.
Today was the final day of Culture Week. I spent it with my Swedish friend Erika at Castel St. Angelo! I've been dying to go since I arrived in Rome, but knew that admission was expensive and that I could go in for free and April. And so I did. Or rather, we did. It's located at the opposite end of the Vatican and was designed between 123 and 129 A.D. The name comes from the legend of Saint Gregorio Magno, who had a dream about an angel appearing in the fortress who announced the end of the Plague. In 1500, the famous
Italian artist Rafaello di Montelupo created a statue of he angel that is now on display in the Corile d'Onore. The castle was used as a prison for nearly three centuries. So as you can see... I had quite the day. In other news from Rome, yesterday was Rome's 2765th birthday! Like a fine wine, this city gets better with age.
Hmm... where to begin with my next piece of news? A new member is being introduced to the Pressé clan. A girl who goes to my old high school and I have each other on Facebook. This girl, whose name is Chanel, worked with my sister once upon a time, and she was also on the Italy trip when my school came to visit in March. My family has been hunting (not literally) for a puppy to hopefully adopt in June or July. Ideally, we wanted a golden retriever/yellow lab mix, but we weren't having any luck. No one we knew or contacted was breeding their golden/lab dogs, no one was advertising them, and we'd even been searching rescue homes. Niente (Italian for "nothing"). Well, I was browsing through my newsfeed when a picture of Chanel popped up of her holding what looked like a naked mole rat. When I clicked on the picture to make it bigger, it was a puppy! Could it be? I asked myself. Is this the one?
I inquired about the mole rat puppy that was cradled in her arms, and it turns out that her boyfriend's parents had bred their yellow lab who just had puppies a couple weeks ago. I asked for the information, and was given the mother's phone number, who I passed along to my own mom. After their collaboration, her and my sister went to visit the home and... Wait for it... BOUGHT A PUPPY!!!
I can hardly contain my excitement, not that I'm even trying to. Because the litter of eight were just born, they still need to spend a couple months with their mom. When my mom asked what date they could be picked up, we were dropped with this tidbit that makes the whole situation so meant to be - June 6th. As in, the day I come home. Since we don't want to drag the poor thing all the way to the airport or bring him to my grandparents house for my homecoming dinner, we're picking up our little bundle of joy on Thursday afternoon after my haircut, where the two of us will play and bond in the backseat of a car.
Anyway, it's settled. My family and I have bought an adorable yellow lab puppy that I get to snuggle and spoil for it's entire life.
Now, the real debate begins - what will we name him? Because, yes, he's a he. A him. A baby boy that I will sneak out of his crate and keep him tucked under my arms like a live teddy bear in the middle of the night. Right now, our family is at war between two names. Well, not really. It's more like my mom, sister and I against our dad. The three of us gal pals have already dubbed him as Sampson. It's cute, right? Sampson. It's full of cute nicknames that we've already started babying him with such as Samosa, Sir Sam-sa-lot, Sam-I-Am, Samsonite, Sammy, and so on. But a name I suggested during my parents trip to Italy was Lucca, which I half regret, because my dad claims that he doesn't like Sampson and that his name must be Lucca. I obviously like it too since I'm the genius who came up with it. It's Italian, so really, what's not to like? My issue is that there aren't as many nicknames to go with it.
My dad's argument is that he's the only guy in the house and that this dog will be his buddy, and he doesn't want to call it something girly. First of all, Sir, we also have a male cat in the house whose name is Boo Friend, so don't say you're the only male in the house. I even have a Siamese fighting fish named Kevin, although I'm unsure of the actual gender.
