|The resemblance is so nonexistent.|
Forget the green hair - I would never
wear a German lederhosen in
After reading the e-mail over a second time, I wrote back as fast as my tiny little fingers would move across the keyboard. First of all, buddy, I was not academically dishonest. Hell-o, if you had actually read the post, the first paragraph was me saying, "Hey guys, saw something cool on the Internet by The Editing Room, check it out!" I gave them credit! I wrapped the message up after that and asked her to please continue to follow my work. Less than ten minutes later a "You Got Mail" voice over came from my inbox. Just kidding. But seriously, how can I make a cool voice say that upon a new e-mail popping up? The simple script of "you have one new message" just isn't cutting it anymore.
The person basically said that no, that's not what they meant. Rather, it was a light hearted
|Comparison to vegetable soup? Ok.|
Comparison to the Grinch? Not ok.
|Castel St. Angelo|
|The castle gives some of the best views of Rome.|
It's hard to believe that this journey of mine will soon be over. I'm not quite ready to let it go yet, but at the same time, coming home will feel something like meeting Stephen Harper and punching him square in the face for being the crown fool of Canada, or being asked out on a date by Ryan Gosling. Or like seeing your sister for the first time after nearly eight whole months. I know I already mentioned it to you that my older sister
is coming to Europe, but do you know just how excited I
am? Very excited! I'm picking her up at the Fiumincino airport in Rome at 10 am in exactly 10 days now. I even made a sign with her name on it to hold up, just in case we don't recognize each other after all the time apart. It's on a blank white sheet with the words NICOLE spread across in big, glittery letter's that can be seen all the way from a galaxy far, far away.
Hmm... where to begin with my next piece of news (aren't I just full of new things to tell you every time I write?). Well, here goes. 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
|What I imagine the little babe will look like.|
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. Ladies and gentlemen, not only is Facebook a place where relationships begin with a friend request and a "Have we met? :)", but it is also a place in which you can find a new member of the family to bring into your home. Thanks, Mark Zuckerberg.
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. But Sampson isn't even a girly name at all, right? And let's be real here... Who gives a tiny naked mole rat's ass? As for the further complaint about not having a male domain in the house due to the forever smell of fresh flower's and clique decorations that have to do with my mom's beach theme such as photo frames with "life is better at the beach" scrolled across in girly writing, I have to correct you again. You have a shed where you keep garden tools, a dart board, and old hockey sticks. So there.