Tuesday, January 24, 2012


The other night my mom sent me an e-mail which sparked a great idea for this new blog post. First she told me how cold it is at home (duh, its January in Canada) and then went on to tell me how excited her and my dad are to come to Italy to visit me. They're arriving on February 26th and its their first time ever in Europe. I don't know what I'm more excited to see - my parents, or their reactions to Italy. To the people, the food, the fashion, the art, the 
history, the traffic, the yelling. I made a joke to my friends that I'm going to set them loose in the city without a map and spy on them to see who breaks down first. I realize that I just compared my parents to something similar of an experiment that a 10 year old would perform by setting his hamster loose in a messy bedroom, but still... That's what my parents in Italy will be like.
I asked my mom if her and father dearest still would have visited me if I decided to live in Switzerland, which was a second option I was exploring, and she said yes. She told me that they're coming to Europe because they want to see me, and that the fact I live in Rome is just icing on top of the cake. Which defeated her point, because icing is the best part of cake. Moving on... She also asked where I plan on working this summer, which led me to a series of fantasies about the perfect summer job.
Like I've mentioned before, I'm hoping to go to school in Nova Scotia, which means dropping a lot of money on tuition, living expenses, and flights. This requires me working for the summer, which is fine, because I'm going to need a distraction from the fact that I'll be residing in the Niagara region come June. The thought of going home to Port Colborne for the summer puts me in a deep depression, and I push that ugly, lifeless fact aside and to the back of my brain. It would be nice to get a job at a cool store like American Eagle or Costa Blanca, where I can
Hard at work
root through beautiful clothes and boss people around by telling them what looks good on them and what doesn't. I already know I'm good at that. 
But in my opinion, the ultimate summer job would consist of being paid an excessive amount of money to read magazines and tan underneath the hot summer sun beside a pool. Sometimes I will swim in it. My work uniform wardrobe will be made up of bikinis from designers like Ralph Lauren in creamsicle colours of hot pinks, lime greens, and electric blues. I would like to be a muse, but a muse who is allowed to sleep and tan and listen to music while thinking about how fabulous I am for being accepted to my dream school in Nova Scotia. I will occasionally snack on cubes of fresh fruit and update my Facebook status as to how difficult my job is, but that we all must
make money somehow. As a muse, I will obviously have to get up off my poka dot beach towel every once in a while to try on cool outfits while talking about the meaning of life in front of a camera, while my boss will be inspired and take photos of me. He will throw fancy cocktail parties with DJs, candles floating in the pool, people dressed in elegant dresses, and uptight waiters carrying around plates of champagne, tiny sandwiches and olives. He will introduce me to his friends as his muse, and tell them how hard it was to design the purple silk dress covering my newly tanned body. He will twirl me around while tucking a fat wad of cash into my diamond encrusted clutch hanging from my delicate wrist.
Does anyone know where I can apply?
Also, what will this title be to put on my resume? Supermuse? Fashionista genius? Cool-girl extraordinaire? I want to lead an interesting life this summer, even if it does take place on 
My brand new office.
Ontario soil. I had this teacher once named Mr. Van Ruyven who had the most bizarre life over anyone else I know. He was in his 50's or 60's and was more serious than Miley Cyrus' mission to destroy her squeaky clean image. He was unintentionally interesting by telling his students stories with absurd beginnings like, "This reminds me of the time I was rowing in Antarctica... This is a lot like when I saved my friend from a knife fight in Amsterdam... This one time, when I was competing in the Olympics... This one time, when I was a firefighter..." All of the things I just listed are actual things he's done, and I know this, because I googled him to see if he was telling the truth. He was.
I don't plan on competing in the Olympics or rowing through the Antarctica this summer, but the thought of having an interesting summer is appealing, although I'm not sure how its going
to go over in... Port Colborne. Which brings me to another point that one of my reader's recently asked me. He asked, "When you return to Canada, will you continue writing your blog?" I stared blankly at the screen for about five minutes because it was a really good question. It was a stumper. (Side note: is stumper a real word?) Anyway, I haven't thought about it until he asked me. And the truth is that... Well, I don't know. Should I continue my blog after I kiss Italy goodbye? I'm not sure. I mean, what will I have to say once I'm in Canada? Today I woke up and drove to Tim Hortons. I got a cherry danish and then drove to St. Catharines to visit my grandparents. There was no traffic. I almost ran over a squirrel, but luckily he was a fast runner. Nana was watching The Young And The Restless while papa went for a swim in the pool. Nana made lunch. It was good. I drove back home and spent the rest of my night twidling my thumbs and crying about my life in Port Colborne. Repeat for the next three months.
The reason why I started this blog was because I wanted to use it as an open diary to detail my adventures in Europe. Life is exciting here. I'm doing and seeing things that most people
Great party, guys...
my age don't get to do. I'm experiencing life changing wine and food. I'm evolving as a person and find myself meeting interesting people and getting stuck in funny situations. That is, after all, what makes my life interesting. So. Do I continue writing a blog once I go back to Canada? Obviously I will have plenty of spare time on my hands, but I don't want to disappoint my readers... I'll have to start a new blog, because this one, The University of Life, is obviously about my adventures in Italy. If I do write another blog in June, what will I call it? Chasing Tumbeweeds? Adventures in God's Waiting Room (my city's nickname due to the elderly population)? There's Nothing Better To Do In Port Colborne So I'm Just Going To Write In This Blog 24/7? Guys. I don't know. Where will I go on the weekends?! There's no cool bars within a half hour radius. In fact, my city only has two actual bars. What will my dating life be like? No interesting men wtih sexy accents or tans for me. Nope. Just a few boys who's idea of a good time is swimming in the green canal and then going to McDonald's for dinner. I've just about gone through every good looking guy there is in my city, and that's not to saying much, since there isn't many.
To blog, or not to blog? That is the question... I'll probably leave it in your hands, so write to me and tell me if you want me to continue blogging after Italy.

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