A Year in Review...

I think it could be safe to say that 2011 has passed with more speed than any year I can remember at a pace frighteningly similar to blinking. There were parts, however, that were agonizingly slow. Some parts I'd rather not remember. But, in reality, I see all were necessary, and as I sit here and think of the crazy ride that 2011 has been, perhaps the most valuable were the parts that I'd rather not recall.

It's a little funny actually. There are many things to recount from this year all fantastic, many big accomplishments for me-- finishing a year and half of grad school in a foreign language (which I am now quasi-fluent), traveling to a new continent, having an Italian Thanksgiving and an Irish Christmas even! But the things that stick out the most in my mind, are the crap parts, the parts that in many ways, I wish I hadn't had to deal with. These were the times that I learned the most, discovered the most about myself (good bits and bad bits), and also found that I have some of the very best and without a doubt amazing people in my life both home in America and my home away from home here in Europe. I am beyond blessed and lucky, and will continue to remind myself of that and be thankful for it everyday, especially on the days that aren't so great.

I suppose I don't have much more to say about you 2011. You were good to me and you were bad to me. But all in all it was for my own benefit. I was challenged more than I've ever been challenged, which is always a good thing. How can you ever get better if there is nothing to push you to be? I had new adventures alone and with friends, both old and new. I watched one of my dearest and oldest friends get married to her best friend. That is a memory that I will carry with me forever. I was able to show my roommate where I come from and introduce her to the people that mean the most to me in my life first-hand. I found another family in the girls that I study with, and I have no doubt we will stay that way always. I was welcomed into homes with open arms without question, even in times that many would find an intrusion. There is much to be said for Moroccan, Italian, Portuguese, Irish....well let's just say 'global' hospitality, and for that I am eternally grateful.

At the end of it, I really can't say enough about the people that 2011 has brought into my life. Perhaps this has been the greatest gift of this year or any year for that matter. In my experiences, I've found that people are just good no matter where you go, and that is a refreshing thing in a world where all you hear about is doom and gloom. These people have all left imprints on my heart in their own individual way, and I hope that we make many more memories together in years to come. Maybe it would even be fitting (and yes albeit cheesy) to credit 2011 with a real-time illustration of a quote from a favorite movie of mine-- "Love actually is all around."

So 2011, I salute you, I thank you, and I also say good riddance. I am looking forward to 2012. It's shaping up to be absolutely fantastic: Spain with the ladies, my little brother's wedding, and this little old thing called a Master's Degree! :) Who knows what other things it has in store for me, but I think I'm ready to take it all on. You've given me plenty for my arsenal 2011 and now I say one more time: Grazie mille e ciaoooooooooooo!!

Thankful is...

November over the past years has increasingly become my least favorite month of the year. The leaves are suddenly gone, the world seems to die, and winter begins to bear its ugly face. Not only that, but I can oh-so-conveniently clump all of the worst things that have happened to me in the past five years into the month of November.  We're not really creating a great history here, November and I, and this year is finding itself in a close second to the worst November I've ever had in my life. It's been AMAZING....not.  Now you're probably wondering..."um....I thought this was supposed to be a message about being thankful???" And you're right it is despite what I've just written.

I am truly, utterly, and completely thankful.  On the one hand because through all of these seemingly rainy days and cold nights, I am still able to catch a glimpse of the sun. That even though school is the hardest it's ever been, and I've never felt more insufficient...I've learned more, become better because of it, and now have no doubts at my abilities to do the work I love so much. That even in a foreign country thousands of miles away from my family and my friends who have known me most of my life....I find myself surrounded by another family willing to be there for me through everything--no matter what, without even speaking the same language.

I am not, in fact an unlucky person in this seemingly November curse. I've actually come to think the opposite. That perhaps its better November is so crappy. That I am incredibly lucky for the misfortune. Because I can really truly appreciate all of the blessings in my life. My health, my work, my family here and back in the US, and this insane form of optimism that no matter how many times it's beat up, broken, or shot down...I can't get the stupid thing to die. Thank God. I mean what fun would I be if I was an empty, bitter, old cat lady??

So.... I am thankful for all of the crap that is in my life. Yes you heard it. I am THANKFUL for all of the bad. Without it, I couldn't appreciate the good or show how very much I love those dear to me the proper way. I got to celebrate Thanksgiving not once...but twice this year. The second time without any Americans. Not-a-one. But you know...the more I think about it....the more I think everyone should celebrate it. Because giving thanks for the blessings in our lives isn't something just reserved for Americans. It applies to everyone- young, old; big, small; American or European. So listen up world, I'm dubbing Thanksgiving an international holiday, and I will plan to keep it that way.

Don't blink....

I've been back for 1 month already.  Thrown back into everything without stopping, and suddenly we're almost done with October!! It's like I blinked that afternoon getting on the plane in September and wound up here close to halfway through my third semester of graduate school. Only one to go.  Then it's on to the next part whatever that may be. Now I realize that there will be a LOT of things in between (namely one certain thesis comes to mind) but my life is blowing by me so fast I can hardly hold on. I've got this sense of urgency that's come over me in the last month to not waste one second, one minute.

I know I've said it before, but why oh why can't we have a slow motion, pause, or stop button??? Sometimes I find myself blindsided by a moment, so simple, so painfully beautiful I want to keep it in front of my eyes, in my physical sight forever. I watched the sunrise for the first time in my 26 years two weeks ago. I've never seen anything like it. The lightening of a dark sky, the night finished. And then suddenly it's like the clouds catch fire, the sky is full of bright yellow light, and it's brilliant. Absolutely, unabashedly brilliant. I asked myself: "Why have I never done this before??? Witnessed such an amazing miracle of nature?" And in that moment I wanted to pause life--sitting on the dock of Lago di Varese in Italy, in beautiful company--and just soak it in for hours and hours, to the point where I could breathe it in, taste it.

But....no matter how much we want that, how much we yearn for that slow motion or pause button it will forever elude us. So 'don't blink' as Kenny Chesney sings in a song, because you may wake up one day on your last day, wondering what happened to the life you were supposed to live. Maybe that's a bit of a sad thought, but I don't think so. For me it's a reminder that even when life is in fast forward, I need to remember moments like that first sunrise and always look for the next adventure. Even if it's something like weekends doing homework with my two classmates (the 3 musketeers!) or pasta made on-site in the 15th century church where we're working. They are simple but beautiful. And I don't want to blink....because I just might miss one.

The Boxes in the Basement...

So as I was readying myself for the move from my small hometown to the big windy city last night, I decided to go through some boxes of old stuff of mine I'd packed up and stored in our basement. It's not a new exercise. It tends to be one that I do everytime I come home for an extended stay. Each time, I find more things that I can part with, more things that aren't so important as they were 1 year, 2 years, even 10 years ago, but also things that remain so very dear to me year after year. It's almost like a therapy for me, a re-evaluation of myself-who I've been, where I want to go- and a nice little walk down memory lane all at once.

This time was no different. I actually parted with more things (yes, little big brother I got rid of things! :D haha) than I ever have. I'm really trying to realize what I really need in my life and what I don't both material and immaterial. But, don't fret, I didn't throw out everything (far from it actually). There were of course old t-shirts to save from H.S. & college that I want made into a blankets, pictures, and the twig 'necklace holder' my 8-year-old brother made me so many years ago, and then there is always that long lost treasure. That something that you don't even remember keeping, even though you know you've been through those boxes 3 time before. It can be anything-a note from a grade school crush, those mardi gras beads you saved from that spring break in Daytona, or a picture of you and your best friend in beginning band uniforms you didn't know you had. These rediscovered moments of your life resonant stronger than anything, and you're suddenly more aware of the places you've been, where you are, and where you want to go.

This time around I ran across an old creative writing journal from my junior year of high school. I knew I'd kept papers and things, but I hadn't really remembered this. Naturally, I thumbed through the now decade old pages. There were silly entries about my cat, colors of the rainbow, and my name. But I also came across more serious ones:  a poem I wrote right after the September 11th attacks, an entry dealing with the grief of losing a fellow teammate and friend much too soon, and an entry about life---advice about it and where I saw myself at 30. It was quite strange reading these bits authored by my 16-year-old self. Where I saw myself at 30 (now only 4 years away) gave me crazy goosebumps for several different reasons, and my advice to others is something I've been striving to live by...only I don't remember knowing it so soon! I wrote on Dec. 5th, 2001 "Life is what you make it. Reach high, dream big, and you will go far in life. Your family and friends will always be there for you, so don't be afraid of making a mistake." Great advice to live by....my only question: why then did I live in fear of failure so long during my adolescent/young adult years?

Maybe it's possible I didn't quite understand the meaning of my own words yet. By this I mean the extent of the definition. Yes, I've always been up to the challenge of the classroom and participating in other activities. But there are other areas of life that I've even recently discovered my own fear of failure. I won't specify exactly what, but I realized that this fear also applies to all aspects of your personal life. I think that this fear of failure happens here largely in part to the way society pushes us to morph our own thoughts and ideas as to not step on toes or anger other parties. We shouldn't live life in fear that way. It only ends in regret of things left unsaid. I hate that...regret. I vowed years ago I would live my life without it, and I've done well since up until this point. That little journal entry from  10 years ago, no more than a child myself, spoke volumes to me last night. I pride myself on living without fear, but realize that I've been neglecting it in some areas of my life. I'm done with that now. If you don't like what I have to say. Sorry. It probably means we weren't supposed to be friends anyway, and I'm ok with that....you should be too.

Breakfast at the Uptown Cafe...

I'm home stateside now for the summer, and as always there's a transitioning process.  No matter how many times I come back there's always an 'excess overload' when I come to America. Then, like always, I pull back into the driveway of my childhood home.  The road I take is the same, the air smells again like fresh cut grass and corn, and my front porch welcome's me with open arms for the first inaugural summer session on the swing. Suddenly all that shock is gone, I don't feel like an alien in my own country, and I'm once again Sarah Braun from Morrisonville--'you know Diana Rosenthal's daughter, one of Kenny and LaDonna's grandkids.'

One of the advantages of being gone is that each time I come back, I appreciate the place I was grown that much more. I talk a lot about taking mental snapshots and vividly recording moments in your life. I've been back for 2 days, and I have been filling my memory bank non-stop-- walking in the door with my mom to find my uncle had left home grown sweet corn on the kitchen table. He knows how much I love it (and yes my community is the kind that doesn't always lock their doors. It's a beautiful thing.); Meeting my childhood best friend's new son for the first time, and feeling so much love for that sweet beautiful child the moment I laid eyes on him; and today having an early 7am breakfast with my 84-year-old grandpa at the "Uptown Cafe" while he sits with his fellow community institutions and talks about the who's who and the what's what going on, or the latest claims they've got to review on farmers' crops, or even next week's town picnic/fair.

I had a realization this morning as I'm talking with these men that saw me grow from a baby to a young woman, and it was bittersweet. I cherish this morning with my grandpa, watching him laugh or curse in the same sentence about using the computer, calling the waitress by name as she refills both our coffee mugs.  I don't know how many more I'll get, and I am so aware how blessed I am to have this moment and this morning. How lucky I am to have grown up in such a loving supportive community. Yes, maybe my town is a little like Mayberry, but they take care of their own no matter how long you've been away. It's always like you've never left.

So maybe this time around I'll say that I'm appreciating life from a different angle. It's not the new adventures I've taken or the ones I plan on having. But it's my origins that have stopped me in my tracks and overwhelmed me with the urgency and transient qualities of life. Maybe you may think 26 is too young an age to have anything wise to say, but even in these last 2 weeks I've learned some important life lessons. I've learned that being true to yourself has more facets than I ever imagined, and that it applies to every aspect of life. If we forget that, it is so easy to lose ourselves no matter how hard we've worked to find it. And then we lose sight of what we really want in this life. It's also okay to want things that most others are afraid to want, and to be vocal about it even if what that is has some small town tendencies. Who cares. Embrace all of those parts of you--where you are, where you want to go, and most importantly where you've come from. They shape our lives, and mine is one that I think I'm finally starting to understand.

I drank a liter and a half of coke last night....

Exam time has once again just about taken me under.  It's to the point where I've ingested an entire liter and half of coca-cola in matter of 2-3 hours, brewed coffee with coffee (yes that means I put coffee where the water goes), and topped it all off with the rest of a bottle of wine. These are serious times here people and the longest two weeks ever, possibly even longer than the legion of doom I faced in January. I don't know if the universities wield some kind of power that slows time during exams, but it's seriously like the never-ending story this time 'round.  And on top of that, the sun is shining, it is officially summer, and the Lido (our little beach here) is calling my naaaaaammmme (it would be rude not to answer) :)

One positive: my thesis presentation is over. And by some act of God, it went well. There was lots of nodding and intent stares. I believe some academic 'hmmms' were uttered with force. All good signs. Although as one of my dear friends told me in regards to the staring, 'you probably had a booger in your nose.' And here I thought I had something interesting to say! haha. Anyway 3 more to go. And it's July 1st. I'm two weeks from being stateside, and the summer holidays are at my feet. Non vedo l'ora per Venerdi'!!!!

I wish I had something more profound to say this time around. But my brain is seriously mush.  The only thing I can think about is how excited I am to see everyone at home and watch my best friend get married! :D But simultaneously I'm sad that I leave so soon from Lugano. Yes it's only 9 weeks in the States (which is really better considering some how I always end running around a million miles an hour there), but its strange. I can't really put my finger on it either. I suppose it's because Lugano is home now too. I'll miss my bed here, my kitchen, my son (yes my roommate I call 'figlio' and he calls me 'mamma') the beautiful view of the lake (that I haven't gotten to enjoy since these stupid exams!), and people. How I'll miss summer holidays with my friends here!

But I know the summer will fly just like this last year has. Sometimes I feel like the harder I try to hold onto moments and the beauty I see in things and people every day the faster more fleeting those moments become. I want so badly sometimes to push pause on my life and just sit bathe in the beauty of it all: Federica's yellow pants like sunshine on our exam day, hydrangeas in absolute full bloom, the post-it on the fridge from Lorena thanking me for dinner, or song lyrics from a friend just because she knew I'd appreciate their absolute truth. It's like trying to hold onto water, these moments, impossible. And yet it's what makes life so wonderful, living life in full force in every direction.....even in the middle of an all-nighter hyped-up on caffeine and simultaneously induced by the downing effects of wine close to a nervous breakdown. It's still beautiful.  After all they say there's beauty in the breaking too no? :)

So I refuse to sit on my couch tomorrow and read chemical compounds when there's so much beauty to see in this life! I'm going to 'take some sun' as they say here and be irresponsible (sort of) by taking my notes to the beach.  I'm going to spend the last few days at home taking it all in, this summer in Lugano, and then head back to my other home for cook outs, baseball, town fairs, mud volleyball, and dear dear dear friends.

Home is....

I don't have any idea how it got to be the last day of May already! It really seems impossible. Tomorrow is my last day of class for my first year of graduate school. There's exams still to come of course, but this year in Switzerland has been incredibly too fast. In many ways, it's like I blinked in January when I returned from Christmas, and opened my eyes to the 31st of May. 

Of course there is much that has happened along the way, no matter how quickly the time seems to have flown. I've learned more about myself in the past 10 months than I have at any other time in my life I think. I've reconciled unnecessary guilt, realized that WE are the only ones responsible for where we end up in our lives (so if you're unhappy...do something about it), met some of the most amazing people, and found that the more and more I travel, the more I realize that as people, as human beings, we are all the same at the core.

We need friends. We need family. We need a place to call home. It doesn't matter if you grew up in a big city in the US, a small town in Italy, or an old bazaar in Morocco (I have had the pleasure of meeting friends from each of these places), at the base of it all, we need people to love and a space that is ours. I have found that here in Lugano, with the city, the things I'm doing and learning, the people I'm with.

I think sometimes people take that the wrong way. That it means I've written off where I've come from. The thing is, that's the wrong way to look at it. When I go home to the US, I am home. It will always be my home. I was grown there, most of my history is there. But here....here is where I found myself. Something that I think speaks for itself.

So I look at it like this:  How blessed am I to have found two homes?! Two places with people I love, places I love, and most of all two places that have a piece of my heart? It's a beautiful thing to get off an airplane both directions knowing that on each side are people to embrace you, a sight for sore eyes, and a bed the causes you to sigh in ecstasy when you curl up in it for the night. What does that all mean? I'm not exactly sure yet. Does that mean I've found somewhere I want to stay for awhile? Yes. Does that mean I want to replace a home? Not in the least.

What I do know for sure...is that I feel alive, and I want to stay that way. So if this where my heart feels that way--like anything is possible, fully aware of dreams within my grasp-- then I think for now its found home. For now anyway....