No one tells you about Italian Love

Remember when I told you I believe in having multiple soulmates? 

I think I found one.

A person whom I loved at first sight but didnt know it. 

The thing about bars and clubs here is that each one has a different vibe and experience. There’s Space, for the nights you can’t remember, YAB, for the great music and passing through, Babylon, for an hour or so and bamboo for… well, i dont even know. 

I’m not saying I have a boyfriend. 

Not at all. 

But have I found my person five thousand miles from home? Yes. 

And what is the one thing my two roommates and I have in common reguarding Florence?… 

Italian Love.

Well, kind of… 

Room mate 1: She got lucky enough to have danced with a guy who’s from Montenegro. He buys her seventy dollar bottles of wine, takes her on dates, and buys her flowers. Hes 24 and has a big peoples job so it’s rare that they go to the clubs with us. 

Roommate #2: She met him the first night in Italy and has been by his side ever since. He’s a club promoter and has been known to sleep around. We haven’t witnessed anything but it’s more than often that he pisses her off and she ends up crying at the end of the night. But, all in all, she loves him anyways. 

Me: I met him at the club but not in a “drunken, I don’t even know your name” kind of way. I saw him, held out my hand, he grabbed my hand, and there it was. We didn’t even kiss so don’t go getting your head in the gutter thinking it was that type of connection. We talked all night and have done the same every night since. He’s the kind of guy who tries to act like he doesnt care but in reality… well, you know. 

My experience here in Italy and the way it has become home, would not be what it is without him. The people I’ve met, the places I’ve gone, the things I’ve done, and the person I’ve become. 

It’s so funny because when people tell you all the things about study abroad….

no one tells you about italian love. 



Tooo Much Wine

So Field Trip #2 consisted of two wine tours meaning this is me, bread and cheese, salad, vegetable soup, truffle lasagna, 14 glasses of wine, and the girl next to me on the bus throwing up, later!

That’s right 14!

That’s also right, the world apparently is seeking revenge by causing people to vomit around me.

So the morning started out meeting at the train station at 8 am. aka, kill me now.

Anyhow, we got to the first vineyard and started with 4 glasses of wine served with bread and cheese. I could seriously eat the cheese endlessly, I mean being endlessly constipated might be totally worth it! Of course prior they had given us all the history of the vineyard and gave us a walk around.

It was breathtaking.

They took us into a barn with a bunch of cows and everyone was oddly obsessed with these cows. When the tour guide asked if I liked the cows I couldn’t help but saying “I grew up next door to a farm, I can smell cow shit at home!” She, of course, died laughing because, let’s face it, I’m just that funny.(Thanks Mom)

We then took a bus to this cute little town where we ate the best gelato in the world! (No seriously, it was an award winning shop!) They had a torture museum and I seriously wanted to go but after gelato, I didn’t have time which was pretty depressing.

We then went to our second winery which was freezing cold but especially charming. The family was hilarious and so beautiful. I guess one of the brothers had met an American girl who was also on the wine tour last year, and now they date and he comes to the states pretty often to visit her.

We were taught how to hold, swirl, smell, and taste wine. It was an incredible experience that honestly didn’t make it taste much different, but whatever.

I was promised that morning that by the end of the tour I would indeed love red wine. I probably tried at least 10.

10 red wines. 3 white. 1 dessert.

Conclusion, I still don’t like red wine, I love dessert wine, and I still hate vomit.

Until next time,






Field trip #1: Siena

Siena was something out of a movie and the perfect way to spend a day crying that I had to get up at 6 am.

Pretty sure the last time I was required to wake up that early for a grade was in high school.

We began the day hopping on a bus, which sucked because I hate busses.

First of all, the girl sitting right in front of me asked for a trash can because she’s getting car sick. Mind you, she had sea bands on each wrist. If you know me I completely freaked out, closed my eyes, plugged my ears, and started humming. I know what you’re thinking…. how is it all possible at once? I’m an awesome multi-tasker (I’m sure my mom would tell you all differently).

Also, when I was in Hawaii the bus driver yakked all over the windshield. We had to pull over so he could wipe it up. Long story short, I was scarred and will never sit in the first row again.

Anyway, she didn’t yak. But I was already pissed because the only place to get McDonald’s breakfast here is at the train station and I didn’t have time because I was literally dying!!

As I hopped off the struggle bus, we walked to a famous coffee shop. (Nannini) We were told this story about these cakes that were made without sugar, of course, I was like “ugh I guess I’ll try it”. Plot twist: it was the most delicious thing that has ever blessed my tongue! It’s called a riccitelli cake. It was light as air and dusted with powdered sugar. I dream of being buried in them. I also tried an espresso. Let’s just say they aren’t for me!

Next, we walked into an art museum. I’m pretty quick with them usually but I had taken Art History my freshman year and had learned all the unique stories of these exact works. Dissecting them and studying every detail; how I longed to be the person to raise their hand when asked “who has ever seen these in person?”.

We walked up 5.7 million stairs. Again, thank you, God. Not realizing this was a castle of some sort. Walking, walking, walking, stepping, stepping. Then BAM! You might think I got hit by a bus or plane, that would make a much more interesting story… sorry but no. However, I might as well have because the view was more than breathtaking. (The above photo was taken by yours truly)

After we proceeded to a vineyard/restaurant/farm. To be honest the food wasn’t that awesome but whatever. We had, of course, learned the background of the vineyard. All of the food the restaurant had served us had been grown and made right there on the farm, using no outside resources. It was very beautiful but I hate al dente style pasta and we didn’t even get wine.

I’m sure by this time I’ve started to sound like an alcoholic. I promise I’m not. Just an American girl forced to hang like an Italian. And honestly, I’m not sure I can keep up, but I sure as hell will try!



Italy: Day 1

So day one got a little bit out of hand, but what can I say?

After arriving in Florence, from the airport, I was taxied to my apartment. My apartment lives in the center of Florence where no cars are legally allowed to drive, but I’m slowly learning that these Italians are crazy.

Outside is a leather market, that I have to admit is super annoying because No I don’t want to buy a leather jacket today, and yes I already know I’m attractive!

Anyhow! Somehow God knew I needed a workout because I reside 6 flights up. Like are you freaking kidding. Later I realized the more flights, the better the view.

I got to my room and did not unpack one item. I slept, and I slept hard!

When I woke up, all my roommates could talk about was going out. If you know me, I was fine with eating and going back to bed. They had met a few club promoters (no seriously it’s a person’s job to promote clubs to students who study abroad a.k.a paid to party!) through friends that had studied here previously.

Long story short, I got drug out.

We went to a bar called Reverse where student’s of all types were studying abroad just like us. One of the kids had met Tommy Hilfiger through the promoter so it was obvious that I had gotten in with the good crowd. We were stamped with a backward R on our hand which symbolized VIP. Trays of shots were being handed to us at the bar as if we were queens. I did not pay for a single drink; which by any means is fine with me.

We switched to another club that I cannot remember the name of! I just remember it being like a movie; Red rope to get in and a bodyguard who validated our stamps. Once inside I was so fascinated beyond belief. People were dancing and drinking and falling in love, it was…..(I’m leaving that blank because no word describes it) It was if you could do anything and it would be okay, Including make out with a random, there seemed to be tons of that going on!

Right when I thought the night was too perfect, I saw my mother in myself. I had bought one drink (Sex on the Beach), the entire night and some guy slapped it out of my hand, then proceeded to tell me it wasn’t his fault and refused to buy me another. Let’s just say I was very angry and he got his.

The night ended with me having to carry my roommate up the stairs. While the other had already been walked home. She was nuts and I was exhausted.

My conclusion: This is the most disgustingly magical place, and I love it.






Stuck in Detroit

This post is going to be a rant so hopefully, you enjoy my annoying humor… feat two girls I met at the Columbus Airport.

First off, I hate Michigan and I am never coming back. I actually wish my plane would have crashed so that I didn’t have to suffer through this. Even though those yellow string cups scare me more than snakes in toilets, I would rather have seen those than the inside of this hotel room.

Let me begin to list the things that have literally made me wish death upon myself.       (not literally)

  1. While arriving to the Airport in Hell, a.k.a Michigan, I received information that my flight from Detroit to Paris was canceled… I’m sorry what?
  2. Not only was it canceled but I spent literally 6.5 hours waiting to find out when I might be leaving; Only to receive the info that it may not be until Thursday…. UMN WHAT!
  3. After accepting the sad fact that I would be stuck in this poop-hole possibly until Thursday, I went downstairs to claim my luggage and head to the hotel. Girl #1’s luggage was lost and we ended up waiting for it for 3 hours!
  4. Once we found the luggage we had to catch a shuttle to the hotel, which might I add included standing in a wind tunnel in 10-degree weather with a million buses zooming by. I can’t express how badly I wanted to punch the lady who was following me while screaming the shuttle names!
  5. Finally, we arrive at the hotel, which is free, and are issued our keys. We probably walked around the hotel for 30 minutes because apparently, no one works here and our room is located in this secret hallway.
  6. We wake up in the morning (Two of us with a cold!) for our complimentary breakfast where this guy tried to con us into paying for “hot breakfast” until we basically said shut up and go away.
  7. We all three took a nap after breakfast and housekeeping knocked on our door telling us to get out when we are indeed at least supposed to be here until tomorrow.
  8. We took an Uber to the mall which was not much more exciting than laying on my hotel jail bed.
  9. No movies were playing and I ate a black bean burger that is currently forming a real life monster in my bowels.
  10. The Uber back was with this black lady who drove up on the Macy’s sidewalk to pick us up and then kept purposely missing turns to get more money. Not to mention it should be illegal to chew your gum that way.

So yes, I am indeed not in Florence and I indeed have no idea when I will be.

I hate Detroit. And it’s no wonder you can buy a house here for a dollar.

The positive outlook? I ate some pretty good pizza and made two new friends.




Travel Bug

Ive been bitten by the travel bug.

In less than 5 hours I will be on my way to Florence, Italy and forced to live the life of an Italian.

Just kidding, it’s voluntary! 

My theory is that everyone wants to travel the world, but the world is not meant for everyone to travel. 

See, the world is full of many things that are not 2.5 kids and a white picket fence, so if that’s your dream, it’s not for you. 

The world wants to be discovered. Worshiped. And appreciated. Open to people who are…. well…. open.

Anyway, It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that at 21 years old I have a goal to travel to atleast 5 countries in a span of 5 short months. And honestly, I don’t even know how to start planning!! (If you know me, I’m seriously not a planner) 

I’m so excited that I don’t know which one to choose first, minus the fact that I’m on the verge of vomiting! Germany, Czech, UK, Croatia… who knows!?

Fortunately for you, I will be blogging every step of the way and you will be blessed with my not so funny, funniness!

It’s pretty bitter sweet actually. A small town girl leaving behind her life to travel the world… 

Let’s be honest, My life rocks!



F // O // M // O

I have fomo.

Fear. Of. Missing. Out.

I feel like it’s not just your average fomo.

I don’t care about missing parties, barcrawls, or getting sloshed on Saturday nights.

I care about being excluded from friendships, relationships, and well it’s basically a fear of being unwanted.


I constantly try to convince myself that it’s normal and that everyone has a time where they feel this way. But it’s hard…

Feeling like your best friend would rather be friends with someone else. Feeling like your significant other might be in love with your best friend. Feeling like you might be the least favorite child. Whatever it may be..

Waking up and feeling like “shit, my life sucks” is a once a month thing where I have to literally convince myself that I am imagining it all.

And those days suck donkey balls.

But I do it.

I suck it up.

My friends are who they are in my life because God put them there. And if they don’t turn out to be my best friends later down the road then so be it. My significant others are going to love who they love, whether it be me or the next girl in line. Everything happens for a reason. And if I’m not the favorite child, who cares. I’m my own favorite.

And that’s what I have to realize.

I’m my own Bestfriend, Significant Other, and Favorite Person in the entire world!

Even if all the worst came true. Loving me more than anyone else is the best I can do!


New Friends

College has been full of so many things big, medium, and small.The changes are full of happiness, sadness, hunger, and hangovers! Probably since I came out of the womb my mom has said that friends come and go more often than your period. And every word of it is true.

People move on, change, find who they are, and are introduced into a whole new world that might not include you! I wouldn’t change any of the friends that I had/have. They have all taught me a lesson–some good and some bad and some that have left me angry… but none that I regret because when one door closes another opens!


To my new friend…

Thank you. Thank you for coming into my life when I needed a change. When I needed a new outlook. Most of all when I needed someone to be in my corner because someone else had left. Not a replacement, an addition! Our relationship and its story is special in its own way. Where did it begin? I have no idea.

We “clicked.” It was like we had been friends our whole lives. Rolling around on my bedroom floor basically peeing our pants because we couldn’t stop laughing, experiencing our first set of midnight shenanigans together. Broccoli and baked potato’s at midnight actually isn’t that exciting, but we thought it was because we’re new!

You give me a new outlook, check me when I’m wrong, make me rescue puppies, and remind me about how blessed I am to have you. Somehow you have been honest, not afraid to speak your mind and most importantly not afraid to be my friend under any circumstance.

In these past few months you have watched me go through some of the most life changing experiences, listened to me rant about people you don’t even know, and encouraged me to do what it takes to follow my dreams.

A random forever friend, who is entitled to her title.

Love you Little!,




Moving On

It’s 4am and I’m wondering if the person I moved on from a year ago is awake thinking about the same things I am. 

When is moving on, moving on? 

When does the on and off become so painful that moving on is what’s best?

When is enough, enough?

It’s enough when you become a person you aren’t. 

When you have to convince yourself that the better, is better than the worse. 

When you are basically on your knees for a person who won’t even bend over for you. 

I have a tough time showing that I care. I will be the first to admit it. And I tend to screw over the people I love the most. I don’t think twice before hurting someone and I don’t think twice before apologizing to avoid the consequences of my actions. And the moment someone doesn’t forgive me, I break. 

Moving On has never been in my vocabulary. I love and love because feelings linger and I fail to understand that someone might be better without me. Or that I might be better without them.  

What is Closure? 

Going months without speaking to a person yet thinking of them everyday. Or knowing that no one will understand your weirdness the way they did. That no one will lick your toes or get you ice water in the middle of the night.

It’s 4am and I’m crying on the inside and the out because I miss you. Do you miss me? Are you even awake, or are you sleeping like a baby? If you are awake, are you thinking about me the way that I am thinking of you? 

I’m trying. Really hard. To Move on. To forget. To change. To grow. Because it’s what’s best for you. And I hate that I know it’s what’s best for me. 


That 3 Year Summer Romance

Summer Romances are full of so many things.

The excitement of sneaking out in the middle of the night. The excitement of sneaking around; Pretending like no one knows the relationship you have. Sex in weird places and conversations in bed. Spending dusk until dawn together and sleeping all day. Shrugging your shoulders because you’ve lost sense of priorities. Creating a relationship that no one can agree is a relationship. Feeling that this thing that is going on is going to last forever.

When making out gives you butterflies and spooning gives you comfort. Sleepovers become normal and kisses goodbye turn habit. Sex turns into love and love turns into protection.

Protection that keeps you alone. Like a bubble has formed and the entire world has stopped. Just you and them, Untouchable.

Before you know it you’ve fallen in the most inappropriate, unconventional, inconvenient, unintentional kind of love.

The kind of love that changes you, for the better, and the worst.

The kind of love that makes you realize things you never would have otherwise.

The kind of love that makes it impossible to leave each other alone. Even when it’s necessary.

The kind of love that makes you second guess things you’ve known all along.

The kind that ruins everything.

The kind that lasts 3 years.

Forever Summer Love.