the perfect little black dress

A New Era

2010-12-28T06:50:00.002+01:00

It has become apparent that The Little Black Dress blog is no longer in functioning condition. I blame this on leaving Italy, getting married and moving into a new phase of life. This blog was just a casualty of craziness in my life.

But now... I have a wonderful husband who encourages me to write and be creative.. so I'm announcing my new website! (Oh yes, I am super official.)

sarahpageburke.com

Go check it out!

Come in, sit down and pull out your notes please.

2009-09-07T00:41:00.008+02:00

I am now officially Miss Vierling.

I have learned to respond to this new name. I even respond to "Coach"-- gotta love the cheerleaders.

I now resist the urge to turn around whenever someone says "Sarah" in the halls. Like I said, this is big. I'm become an official teacher.

I have 2 weeks under my educator belt, 1 chapter test administered and graded, and yes, 9 fewer kids than I originally started out with.

There's the biggest shock of the school year: apparently I'm hard.

Who knew?! Here I was, totally stressing about not being their friend, chickening out of really giving someone an infraction, and desperately trying to understand the material I was to teach the period before I had to.... I didn't have the mental capacity to even consider the chance that I might be the exact opposite of my fears.

They are all dropping out of my class!

At first I felt personally slighted... like somehow they had decided they didn't want to be in my class because I wasn't young and fun like they had hoped.

And gosh darnit, I am fun!

I've made reference to National Treasure, Nicolas Cage, Michael Jackson, Captain Jack Sparrow and other such standard, classical historical figures in my lectures.

Who doesn't love that?!
I was thoroughly entertained.

But, alas, the fact that I expected them to read on their own and take notes during class proved too much for some of them.

I don't know about you, but I didn't grow up being spoon fed information or having grades just handed to me because I merely showed up.

So after a few lame excuses and a lot of obvious laziness, I decided... No more Miss Nice, Easy-going, Laid-back Teacher.

My catch phrase for these past few weeks has been the very sympathetic and understanding...
"Welcome to High School. You actually have to do work."

**Sidenote: I also feel like my naturally sarcastic wit has finally found a home. Although misunderstood by some, I find that this style of communication works wonders with freshmen boys.**

Part of me feels really bad and I want to be a positive, encouraging part of their day... but if they aren't going to turn in homework then I don't have time to sugar coat the outcome.

When did this happen to me?

Lest you start to worry about the fate of these students, the administration said that there were too many in Pre AP anyways.

Lovely, now I'm the "weed out" teacher.

This is so not the reputation I was going for... but I'm starting to find that it does have it's benefits.

I've heard rumor of kids studying for my class in other teachers' classes. (This makes me feel so cool for some reason.)

And since they're dropping like flies.... it means I have less papers to grade!

Now if I could just work up enough courage to actually give out an infraction...

A Year in the States....

2009-08-26T03:48:00.004+02:00

I have officially been back in the good ol' US of A for one year, one month and 3 days.

It feels good to be an American again. And it really did take a full 9 months to feel that way. It has been 7 months since the last update, and I thought it only fair to let you all in on the journey. Plus, D.O. put the pressure on. (And for that I thank him.)

You may ask what this transition has done for me... where have I landed after 4 amazing years in College Station and 2 fabulously adventurous and fulfilling years in Italy??

Ummm, way back at the beginning.

Seriously.

I am teaching at my high school.
Living with a friend from high school who was my roommate freshman year at A&M.
I am coaching the cheerleaders. (Hello, glory days.)
Oh yea, and I'm dating the boy that I had a crush on in high school.

Someone should sign me up for a reality show.

"Where are they now? - The High School Yearbook edition"

It really blows my mind. The creativity, the humor, the total surprise attack of the Lord to put me here all over again. Yet again, how sweet to have a chance to reconnect with people I never thought I'd see again, to have a chance to "re-do" a few things, and to see how much I've grown since I was here last.

Other people notice the changes as well. One older male teacher who was at the school when I was there, came up to me and said: "Welcome back dear. You sure are prettier since I saw you last."

I wasn't sure if "ouch" or "thanks" should follow, so I just smiled and nodded.

I officially started teaching two days ago, so right now I feel like a crazy person.

My head is spinning, my feet hurt, and keep forgetting to pack my lunch!

I keep waiting for someone to barge into the room and say, "Miss Vierling, we need you out in the hall-- we've made a mistake."

Until that happens though, I guess I'll keep showing up, making transparencies (so 7th grade math to me), and assigning homework (such power!).

I cannot tell you how many times I have heard the students say, "Sarah" and I turn around and ask "What?"

Better yet, a few of the JV cheerleaders came up to introduce themselves and I just flat out said, "Hi, I'm Sarah." Two other teachers jumped in to say "Miss Vierling" to cover my blunder. Smooth, real smooth.

If you had told me a year ago that this is where I'd be, I would have been skeptical at the very least. Even my Italian friends think it's a little strange.

A direct quote from Ilaria when I told her I was teaching: "What?!?!? It sounds strange. You are so young. Anyway, i guess that you are happy about it so good luck my dear!"

"So good luck."

She must know I'm in way over my head!

This year might not hold adventures like my years in Italy did, but I'm confident that I'll have just as many funny stories.

After all, I'm teaching freshmen.

They think that Columbus discovered America in 1942... so we're on a roll already.

And I promise, more updates to come.

For now, I'll leave you with this:

By far my favorite thing about coming home! We've improved so much since high school!

An Inside Look at Internships

2008-12-27T18:47:00.009+01:00

Once again, I apologize for the delay between posts. The blog often beckons when I have a spare minute to think, but sleep usually wins out when my creative juices refuse to produce anything worth typing.

Since I have officially had two days off from work, I now have ample brain power to put something together. Finally.

One of my Ohio-ian (Ohioan? Ohionite?) friends recently told me that he pictures my life looking somewhat like the Devil Wears Prada. I had to gently let him down. My internship days are not glamorous. The only thing that Anne Hathaway and I have in common is the frantic pace, the odd requests, and the emotional turmoil of wanting to fit in but at the same time not wanting to at all. Interning is one very twisted plot.

I am working in PR. Public Relations. Although I rarely see the public. I sit in a very tiny room with five other people with no windows and a very poor ventilation system. The work is tedious and stressful, hectic and monotonous all at the same time.

I have gone on coffee runs (oh yes), picked up birthday cakes, delivered pastries to radio stations, and mailed packages to Phil Mickelson. I relish the random errands because they allow me to actually leave (gasp!) the office. Drive away in my own car, music blaring at 11am in the morning. Of course, I dutifully return in under an hour and then proceed to spend the next hour trying to figure out how to file an expense report.

After seventeen weeks at Big Company Downtown (no, I'm not counting!), I have learned the ropes of corporate America. Sort of. I stumbled through at first, getting reprimanded for "disappearing in the copy room," "unnecessary out of office messages," and "an unstocked refrigerator." Sure, I had a reason for all of this mishaps, usually they included some highly important project that had to be done in the next 30 seconds, thus taking me away from other "duties," but I never voiced them. That, of course, would be a very non-intern thing to do. Meet deadline, keep mouth shut. End of story.

It hasn't been all bad; most of you know I freely use a little elaboration in my creative license! And I have learned so much. My friendships with the other interns have been so fun and eye-opening. I see so many resemblances between my Italian friends and these recent graduates. Our little intern room has started to feel like home. I look forward to the boring minutes when we can just talk, and I get just as annoyed with them as with my actual family. The girl that chews ice everyday around 10am sits just to my left. The girl that answers the phone like she trapped in a tunnel far away is on my right.

I have had to let go of my pride so many times at Big Company Downtown. I have learned that it takes a lot of time to truly get to know someone in the "real world." I have become a master at crafting professional sounding emails. I have struggled as Big Company Downtown has handled situations differently than I would have done. All in all, I know that it has been a blessing to be an intern. That is why, in some crazy God-only-works-this-way twist, I will be staying at BCD for a while longer. They asked me to stay on as a spring intern. Not my first choice, but since I have very little clue as to what the next step is and the fact that I need a paycheck--I am grateful.

So no, my life is not glamorous. Thanks for picturing it that way, Matt. But I do have a strong suspicion that the "devil" does perhaps wear Prada. And probably Chanel, Coach, Louis Vuitton, etc. After all, Neiman's is just around the corner...

An Update: Transition stinks but I will be okay

2008-11-15T22:12:00.007+01:00

Most people have just about given up on the LBD, but have no fear, I am back and more determined to sort through my thoughts via blogosphere. This may or may not be welcome news seeing as how I am still one big mess of transition. It takes a really kind-hearted person to listen (or read) the same process erupt out of my over-stuffed head, but alas, I am also determined to think the very best of everyone! So, without further delay, let me fill you in, Kind-Hearted Person.

For those of you who have been in the trenches with me when life is messy and I am clearly out of control, you know that my exterior on "in control" is a total fraud. I ran into a dear friend last night and as I explained my transition woes and how I was slowly working through it and not even sure how I felt about it all yet, and she calmly replied, "But that's just your way, Sarah."

A wonderful reminder that I am not put-together.

My brain lately has been tumbleweed. All one big tangled mess, trying to work towards some unknown end goal, yet just bouncing around lost and searching. Most of the tangles come from the job situation.

Basic Recap:
I have a job.
It ends in one month.
Thus, I need a job.

I have never encountered something more challenging to my identity and insecurities. What have I been specifically created for? What do I really like? What am I passionate about? How do I make my life truly count? What if I'm not good enough, qualified enough, talented enough, etc?

You can see the tailspin my little ball of tumbleweed has taken.

After speaking with a lot of my closest friends, I came to realize that I am not the only person to ever feel this way. I might be one of the few 25 year-olds wrestling with the "real world" adaption though. Italy was a place that my faith was tested, where I learned a ton about myself, and grew up...but it was idyllic. I was surrounded by the most solid people I have ever met, that cared for me, laughed and cried with me and I never had a shortage of who to hang out with on Saturday night.

Come to find out, that is not how it works here.
Silly me.

Yes, I have amazing friends.
But we all work and are not on the same schedule.
For some reason, this reality was not in any of my dreams of Dallas!

Transition is lonely.
And for me, processing through everything is slow.

Neither of those words do I like.
Lonely.
Slow.

I like things to happen fast and I want everyone to be in it with me.

Hello, Selfish! How are you today in your little bubble-world?

My selfishness has risen to the surface more times than I am willing to admit along with a host of other ugly sins. Some of you may recall my reasoning for coming home to the US of A, namely the fact that I knew my faith would be challenged more in this move than staying in Italy. I really felt the Lord’s assurance that moving back was the best thing then, and now—I can see He was totally right.

Anytime Jesus takes time to show me where I am totally missing it, I know it is a worthwhile season to be in and to fully embrace. This transition period is really hard, but if He is teaching me and changing me to be more like Him—then its good. Really good, in fact, because He loves me enough to do all this pruning!

That is the Big Picture. That is what I need to hope in.
Not a job to define my skills.
My perspective can get so skewed so easily.

So as I slow down (or try to) and as Christ continues to reveal my need for the Gospel, I am just putting one foot in front of the other on the path of pursuing Him and trusting Him to work out the details.

If any of you already adjusted, Kind-Hearted people have any advice or thoughts, feel free to share.

Soon to come: Working 8-5: Why Daylight Savings Stinks, Driving Miss Dallas, and An Inside Look at Internships.

You won’t want to miss a thing!

☺

Observations on America: The Transition Continues

2008-09-01T19:20:00.011+02:00

I don't know if any of you are still checking this site...my life and my posts have lost a little of that edge since I am no longer overseas. Sorry for the lack of updates, but the creative juices have been drained by the emotional stress of trying to be an American again.

Just to catch you up before I get into the observations:
I start work this week at a PR firm in downtown Dallas. I am excited to start something new, although the lack of freedom in my schedule is not my favorite thing to think about. I am going to try to be patient as I figure out how this new schedule works...but I have heard that it can take some time. In the Vierling house, working 8-5 doesn't exist. I will be the first to launch into this new world of corporate America. Somedays, I really wish I could just fly around like my parents do!

Emily and I have found an apartment. We have been tirelessly searching for something safe and affordable (and cute!). I think we are both ready to settle somewhere as much as this season will allow us to. And I am so thankful to have her here during this awkward, stressful, rollercoaster journey of relocating. We have laughed and cried and researched--and I am so glad we are doing it together.

Okay, so moving onto...The Observations

First up: The Grocery Store

I cannot begin to explain the overwhelming sense of "out-of-placeness" that I felt upon entering Tom Thumb for the first time. My cart was bigger than most of the cars in Italy. I didn't even know how to maneuver it! I promptly returned it to the huge lobby area and picked up a smaller, more appropriate, basket. As I entered the produce section, I stood in front of the avocados looking for the plastic glove with which I could use to make my selection. (In Italy, you always use a glove to pick up fruit.) I literally made a few laps around the fruit stands trying to find the gloves. After a few minutes, it hit me. I was in America. I could use my bare hands without fear of some little old lady yelling at me about germs. I selected my avocados and moved on, slightly weirded out.

After I managed to walk a few miles in the massive store trying to find everything, I made my way to the check out line. Amazed that the woman in front of me fit her ginormous cart through the check out line, I was a little flustered when it came time to pay. I couldn't remember how to use the credit card machine!! The cashier boy had no idea what to do with me. He showed me how to swipe my card and use that little pen like I was from outerspace. The look of shock never left his face.

Slighly humiliated and very much in awe of my own "Italian-ness," I walked about 20 feet out to my car, lifted the back hatch, placed my bags inside, and drove home. It was then that I remembered how much I love NOT hauling my groceries through crowded mobs. I would return to the grocery store confident and better prepared the next time.

Second: Air Conditioning
I refuse to believe the Italian proverb that air conditioning will make you sick. I think death by melting in your own bed beats out a slight cold any day. But, I will say that the air conditioning here in Texas has been taken a bit too far. Emily and I were at an apartment agency the other day and my hair was blowing in my face, papers were flying off the woman's desk, my teeth were chattering---and we were INSIDE. The line must be drawn somewhere, people. Snow flurries inside are just not right.

Not since this picture can I remember being so unprepared for such cold weather!!

Lastly: The Meg Ryan Syndrome
Remember her in When Harry Met Sally? (And I am not talking about that scene, c'mon!) She is an insane orderer in the movie. Everything off the menu must be slightly changed or altered.

Well, as I have slid back into my comfy American booth in the generic American eatery, I have become a Sally. I admit it. The freedom to say, "I would like the BLT, no B" is very liberating after two years of getting no say whatsoever. And then, to add to my already increasing Sally-like tendencies, I saw this last night at McAlisters:

Our freedom of options astounds me. This one will definitely take some getting used to, but I fully intend to keep ordering things exactly like they are but totally different.

It has continued to amaze me how this process brings to light just about every area of my heart--not just what I think about jobs, apartments, and cars. It has gone and is going so much deeper than that. Even the things that I knew to prepare myself for have been hard to handle. Friends living far away, community feeling distant, the pressure to be "successful," the realization that life is expensive (even without the euro).

My faith in the Lord's goodness is being tested. Like I knew it would. It is one of the very reasons I decided that moving back was the right thing...to put myself in the place where I would be most needy of the Lord. But I am still struggling with the day to day reality of resting in Him, putting holiness as my highest aim, and being content with the fact that He has the plan and I don't. I am a such a work in progress. Even trying to figure out how I am truly feeling in the midst of this whirlwind is a work in progress. I feel like a big, huge, grocery store-size mess most of the time these days. But it comes as no surprise to Him. And in that--His grace--I find hope.

Messy or not, He is one who is capable.
And I am thankful that He has given me sweet moments of laughing at myself.
They almost make me excited to see how I will embarrass myself next.

The world inside my head is a strange, strange place.

The transition begins

2008-07-31T22:35:00.001+02:00

It's hard to believe that I have been in America for a week now.
Just a few days ago I was living it up with my mom in France.

Now that I am back though, I am thoroughly enjoying my double-size bed, automatic coffee maker and guacamole.

I also love seeing and hanging out with all my fun friends who I have missed so much.

Road trip with La and Hay.
Fish fry with Cla.
Dinner with Connie.
Lunch and cupcakes with Amanda.

Such fun times.
I really am blessed to be surrounded by such amazing people.
And I can't wait to see the rest of you!

I wanted to let you in on the biggest happening of the week

(besides finally getting a pedicure)

I bought a car!!

I feel so relieved.

So excited.

So... adult.

I love having wheels again.

It makes me feel ultra American.

And for now, I think that is a really wonderful thing.

From the Edge to the Lime Green Couch

2008-07-15T21:55:00.014+02:00

I put Emily on a plane this morning.
And instead of mope, I decided to take a trip through memory lane.

If you think these pictures make us look silly....then you're right on.

Laughter was never in short supply in Via Ricasoli.
Nello, the Japanese girl and myself made sure of that.

This may be boring to most, but to a particular few they may capture the essence of one fantasically fun year.
Forgive me as I reminisce...

The shelves that became legendary.
Here they are seen in their infant stage.

Being fabulous at ALL times.
Making Tyra proud.

Embracing new countries.
Literally.

Always knowing the cool scene and keeping track of attractive Italians.
Collective total: 3

Being the most excellent tourists.
We always managed to find the hidden wonders.
And only got cultural on the "museums are free" days.

The things that took place in Via Ricasoli...Dance parites, Mallow ball, the "Can we borrow an egg" night.
Trouble all around.

Stalking each other from a distance.
And the power stance.

Battling the odors of Italy one nose at a time.

Waaaaay back at the beginning.
Another time, another place, another Via Ricasoli.

Sleeping in tight quarters.
Embracing wall to wall pink satin.

Hungry? Stubborn? Unhappy? --don't know
Hilarious? --absolutely

Playing games with our cameras.

Imitating our fabulous teammates.
The inspiration here will remain nameless.

Senior pictures at all major historical landmarks.
St. Francis was so patient with us.

Stealing things from cemeteries.
Not being able to breathe from laughing so hard.

Winter bike rides with friends.
Harmonizing our bike bells.
And again...the camera games.

Allowing each other to feel comfortable in our American skin.
Oh, and road trips.
Duh.

Parties. Dresses.
Not to mention... big heads.

Late night ridiculousness.
The Blue Chair trio strikes again.

Braving all kinds of Italian weather.
From blistery-pooh to the three-showers-a-day heat.

Partying like Italians.
Wine and plastic dixie cups?
Check.

Corporately buying into the Tuscan dream.
Grape harvesting and offering our free manual labor.
The day "Suckas" and "Rrrryan, pieno!!" were officially born.

And the bookshelves as they matured.
It seems only fitting that our year together be "bookended" by this well-loved masterpiece.

As I sit here in a blue chair with one fan pointed directly at me, I am missing you girls terribly.
My heart is full of the laughs we shared, the difficulties we overcame, and the true friendship we experienced.

I am about to go wash my feet in the bidet in your bathroom.

I am thinking about you and praying for you.

I don't want to say goodbye, I want to say "ci vediamo"

2008-07-01T16:28:00.007+02:00

It has started.

The goodbye process.

The bane of my existence these past few days.

How do you wrap up two years of your life, say "ciao" to the most amazing people, and pack up an entire apartment in four bags?

I want to do it well.

Process the lessons.
Think through the goals and priorities that the Lord has placed in my heart for the future.
Pack neatly.
Cry at all the right moments.

But, it is impossible.
Transitions are messy.
I think and reflect and process like a turtle.

And so, my goodbyes are lame.

I can't express how much and how deeply I love these people.
Not amount of hugs or bacis will let them know how they have impacted my life.
My words fail me in this crucial moment.

Maybe in October or November I will be able to adequately explain the blessing it has been to live and work with these sweet friends.
But until then, I am a whirlwind of emotion.

Wanting one last laugh.
Fighting off inevitable tears.

Let's forget the goodbyes.
Let's just say "ci vediamo."

More "see you laters" are coming my way.
But two of the biggest have already happened.

What will Via Ricasoli be like without you, Kel, for the next two weeks?
The blue chair is going to be so lonely.

And who will I turn to with all my life questions, Italy frustrations, and sarcasm now that my Stint buddies are gone?
I miss you Turners.
And I am praying we live on the same cul-de-sac some day---just so you know.

Lately... funny things

2008-06-29T14:20:00.008+02:00

Lea Anne, Nicole and I trekked out to one of Ilaria's dance recitals.
I have tried for years to get to see my little Ilaria do her hip hop thing.
Finally--this was my chance.

It was outside of Florence a little bit, so we had all prepared ourselves for a long night- especially since the show didn't start until 9pm.
While taking the bus to meet more of Ilaria's friends to catch a ride to the theater we were in pretty good moods.
Even after being crammed into the back of the Panda was seeming laughable as we embarked on our journey to Campibisensio.

That's right. You've never heard of it.
There's no reason you should've. It is in the middle of nowhere.
Literally.

We park the car, walk in and find our seats-- ready for a good show.
To be honest, I love watching people dance.
I am excited to see Ilaria and wishing Laura was with me so we good reenact our obsession with "So you think you can dance" in real life.

All these thoughts are put on hold as I take in my surroundings.
Imagine your high school cafetorium and you're on the right track.

We are sitting in folding chairs and staring at a stage decorated with the theater's name: Real Space.
And this is just the beginning.

Lea Anne and I peruse the program and realize that Ilaria is dancing in the 24th performance--out of 36.
Awesome.

Still in good spirits, we sit back and laugh at the cute little girls in tutus staring off to the side of the stage for directions as they spin.
Sometime after the fourth belly dancing number, I start to suffer from a mild headache.
No worries though, I'm tough.

Finally, after an intermission and several performances by Eduardo--a half-naked Italian leaping machine--Ilaria's group is up.
They were great.
So glad we could cheer on our friend.

Mission accomplished.
We began looking for a way out.

We do the round of "ciaos" and bacis to all the other girls and sneak out the back--
determined to call a cab and get home.

Time: 11pm
Hours of Recital endurance: 2 solid hours.
Moods: Tired, but uplifted due to surety of taxi arrival.

Fast forward 30 minutes.
The three of us still standing outside.
Nicole still on the phone reasoning with the taxi company.
The argument?

The street we are on does not exist.

My mild headache has now turned brutal.

Dejected and frustrated, we walk back into the theater.
One of the girls says she will give us a ride home as soon as the show is over.

Time: Midnight
Hours of Recital: 3 loooong hours
Moods: Spiraling down--fast.

After one more belly dance routine, I completely lose it.

Maturity and walking in the Spirit have been thrown out the window.
I am now very raw and very annoyed sitting in Real Space.

My very sweet roommates text me to say they were going to bed and to see where I was, I responded with by saying:
Dance recital hell.

As I said--we unraveled completely.

After two more hours of dancing and award handing out the recital officially ended.

We got a ride back to the center.
I walked Lea Anne home and called a taxi to take me the extra 10 minutes to my house.
I was unwilling to exert any energy walking or fight off any creepos at 2 am.

I fell into bed vowing that if I ever have children and one of them happens to be a girl--I am not signing her up for dance.
An hour long volleyball game--fine.
A two hour piano recital--lovely.

Four hours of (sub par) dancing is unacceptable.
And I do not want my children exposed to any belly dancing or Eduardos until they are 21.

In Related News:

The dancing craze has swept our team.
While at our debrief on the island of Ischia, we managed to get an impromptu celebration of St. John the Baptist day.
Dancing by the pool to live music is by far my favorite way to work of an Italian dinner.

The keyboardist was not used to so many Americane at his shows, so he tried to infuse some American music for us.
When he couldn't remember the words to "I will survive" Nicole decided to help him out.

And when the slow songs started, Emily was Lorenzo's first pick of dance partner.
This is one of my favorite moments of the entire year.

My Fake Birthday

2008-06-16T12:12:00.006+02:00

Growing up, a summer birthday was awesome.
Pool party every year. Water balloon games. Diving board competitions.
When I was little, cake and chlorine were the best combo I could think of.

Unfortunately, as you get older, summer birthdays just aren't that cool.
Everyone is gone. Everyone is doing their own thing.

For the past two years, I have lived in Italy and never been able to celebrate my birthday with the people that I have spent the entire year with.
The silly calendar never seems to cooperate.
So, my wonderful roommates took matters into their own hands.

We had a fabulous weekend trip to celebrate my never-while-I'm-in-Italy birthday.
Aren't they great?

We rented a car and drove to Pisa for shopping and to Viareggio for beach time.
The perfect girls' trip.

Not only did I get to do two of my favorite things on my "birthday": shop and take a nap in the sun, but I also got to navigate the Italian roads. Which in a terrifying sort of way is totally invigorating. Emily's stick-shift abilities are top notch, and the Clio stuck with us through thick and thin.

Thank you roommates for making me feel special!
So far, fake 25 is feeling pretty good.

I'm a professional.

2008-06-06T12:11:00.014+02:00

Bridesmaid, that is.
Oh yes.
I am very good.
I have perfected the walking-while-holding-flowers-and-smiling role.
It's a gift, really.

Engagements and Weddings are the theme of my days lately.
Not my own (obviously), but it is the "big news" in many of friends' lives.

My weekend in Oklahoma/Dallas was no exception.
Of course I went knowing that my little Ashley was getting married.
Duh. It was in the plans for awhile.

I love getting to be a part of this season in my friends' lives.
It was so fun to be there for Ashley and get to see some of the preparations.
Like picking out a rehersal dinner dress.

This one was NOT a winner.

Ashely is such a good friend.
We met in 5th grade and she was my saving grace when I changed schools to go to Liberty.
We made up dance routines in my pool to the soundtrack of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.
We also had matching pajamas with the words, "Great Scots!" on them followed by two Scottie dogs.
I wore those plaid boxer shorts well into high school.

She was my accountability partner in high school, and always the friend that was just "got me."
So, naturally a transatlantic flight was no big deal to get to be there for her and Kenton.

I also got to spend some great time with another sweet friend, aka the Maid of Honor.
Juliana giggles with me and asks me how I am really doing.
This whirlwind of a trip should have been draining, but she made it so refreshing.

And just to keep the theme going....Claire got engaged the same weekend!!
I am so happy for my bunkmate and Joe. I am mostly happy that he surprised the doo-doo out of her.

My next supporting actress role as bridesmaid extraordinaire will be on August 2nd at the wedding of my pink-loving Amanda.
Amanda is potentially the sweetest person I have ever known.
She has walked with me through happy times and terrible times and remained so loving and gracious.
I have been so blessed by so many good friends being a part of my life.
Can't wait to celebrate the way the Lord has blessed her with Kyle!

Yay for crazy weekends and weddings!

Kenton and Ashley--you are so sweet to include me in your big day. I loved being there, laughing with you two, and getting to see the goodness of God in your relationship.

Amanda and Kyle--my future Dallas friends! So, so excited to see you guys and hang out and be a part of the beginning of a whole new journey.

Joe and Claire--November 22nd!! I will rock-climb, go barefoot, and be granola for you two because I love you THAT much.

I see France

2008-05-30T17:36:00.017+02:00

I've been in the habit of crossing borders lately.

Two weekends ago, five of us rented a car and drove to the first town in France after you leave Italy.

Meet Menton.

Unbelieveably cute and charming; its full of chocolate pastries, beautiful flowers and great shopping.

Its funny that driving four hours can allow you to feel so far removed from normal life.
Kinda like driving from Dallas to Austin. It is only four hours, but they are world's apart.

Our only mission for the weekend was to relax.
Matt, Mel, Emily and (the other) Sarah were wonderful road trip buddies.
After some great retail therapy, quality beach time, and a weekend with these four--my heart was full.

We ate pain au chocolat and yummy crepes and drank cafe ole twice a day.

I was so proud of myself for using "oui" and "merci" all weekend.
And I sound so French when I mush it all together.
I patterned my speech after the chef on Little Mermaid.
"Hee hee hee, honh honh hohn"

Menton really won me over.
The residential part of the town is like an uphill maze, every corner an adorable surprise.
I mean, can I please live here?

On the second day we drove to Monaco.
You know: Grace Kelly, Monte-carlo, etc.
Well, I can see how it would be great if you married a prince and everything, but with out that Monaco was a total bust.
The only exciting part was Emily unintentially driving across the finish line of the Monte-carlo grand prix track.

You can't make stuff like that up, people.

When we got back to Menton, we happened across heaven on earth.
Now all those Anthropologie lovers out there, or anyone who really likes my taste in things pay attention here.
This word will bring you much pleasure in your French travels:

It basically means "stuff."
Old stuff. VIntage, Grandma's attic.
But seriously, the Brocante store we found was the coolest European grandma's attic of all time.
I think we all gasped when we walked in.
Even Matt.

There was amazing stuff everywhere you looked.
Ceiling, floor, outside, inside, on the stairs, in the corners.
It was glorious.
I wanted to hide out and have them lock the doors on me so I could keep looking around.
Maybe not all of you will understand this feeling, but I'm telling you--it was intense happiness.
We all walked out, bags in hand, and didn't talk for a while.
We were in a pleasure coma and we wanted to stay in it.

Merci beaucoup, Frane!
Until we meet again.

Now, for those of you who follow this blog, you may be wondering about my next blog.
You've read I see London, and I see France...
Don't get freaked out: There will be nothing about underpants in the next post.

It was total coincidence that I took these two trips back to back.
I just wanted to dispel any rumors that I was going to write about underwear.
Sorry to disappoint some of you (Claire).

I see London

2008-05-19T11:05:00.005+02:00

Last weekend I had the super fun opportunity to go to jolly ol' London with the team leaders from Rome.
Lauren and Matt made great traveling buddies and Lauren's British boyfriend Andy was the perfect guide.

The fact that I got to travel to England for the weekend blows my mind. And Ryan Air is ridiculously cheap. No leg room to speak of, but boy, do they cut the cost!
As usual, a little pictoral recap.

We started our travels in Rome.
We were very excited.

First on the list of things to do: Be American.
We loaded up on Starbucks. Hello Vanilla Latte.

And drank Dr. Pepper.
To Stinters in Italy this is like liquid gold.

We bought some tickets to see Les Miserables for that same night.
Although I was thinking Liam Neeson and Claire Danes, it was still fantastic.
Nose bleed seat + London = still pretty great.

And after strolling through Covent Garden, we were handed free candy.
London was treating us well at this point.

In the words of Lauren, "This day just keeps getting better and better!"

After seeing the sights, you know- Big Ben, Parliament, Buckingham Palace--no biggie, we headed to the London Eye.

This thing was awesome. They should have ginormous ferris wheels in every town.
Seriously, get it together people.
We had a lot of fun in our little pod.
I especially like the ant-like people below us.

The next day we headed to Tower Bridge and ate some great pub food.
I could totally live in London.
Fried fish with french fries?
Yes, please.

But really, as nice as the weekend was, and as much as I loved speaking in English--Italy is still home.
Even England is obsessed with Italy.

And just to remind of us how much we love Italian culture, we had an exciting trip back to Rome.
Even as we stood in the check in line with all these indoor-sunglass-wearing Italiani, I thought, "We're back."
Upon landing, every Italian burst into applause. No lie.
The idea of touching down on Italy soil made them giddy with delight.
I want my Dad to fly a trip to Italy just to experience the outpouring of gratitude.

Cheers to fun weekends!

Via Ricasoli

2008-05-09T11:44:00.003+02:00

On a crowded street in the center of a bustling Italian city you will find a nondescript door.

As you push your way past the tour groups you can hear the clinking of coffee cups at the bar next door.
The American looking last names are a dead give away--making it easy to know which bell to ring.

After climbing one flight of stairs to the "first floor." you will find my apartment.
Quiet respite from the blur of the city is found in one lime green couch and my two favorites things in Florence.

My roommates.

Kelly and Emily have truly been "God's provision for me" this year.
When life is too crazy, when ministry is hard, when I hit the wall--I can run to them.
When I want to laugh, have a dance party, truly enjoy life --they are my go-to girls.

Team is so much a part of your experience on Stint and I have been so blessed both years in Florence.

Kelly and Emily and I hit it off immediately back in August when we went for a walk in Copper Mountain.
I adore the times we get to process life together. Talking about deep things over nutella and gran cereales.
We laugh and cry and give grace to each other. They continually point me to the cross.

As I recap the things I love about Italy, these two girls are a big part of that.
Even though they aren't technically part of Italy--they are a huge reason why life here is so good.

Who else would go to the antique markets with me?
Who else would watch America's Next Top Model with me?
Who else would run across Piazza Duomo with eggs at midnight with me?
And who else could I convince to finger paint with me?

Living in Italy is pretty great: wonderful food, beautiful countryside, great shopping :).
But so much of enjoying life is about people for me.
At the end of the day, this place is foreign and I still bump up against the differences.
So to be able to come home, drop my bags, share about our days and understand each other--is such a huge blessing.

Kel and Emmy have made this year--they are the highlight.

Behind that nondescript door, in the middle of a big foreign city, across the ocean--I have found life-long friends.

"Italy, and the spring and first love all together should suffice to make the gloomiest person happy." --Bertrand Russell

2008-04-29T11:25:00.008+02:00

Ah, spring.
Birds chirping, sun shining, barefoot, park-filled days.
I think my soul waits all year for this time.

Italy has never failed to give a me a stellar spring experience.
Bertrand is right. No gloominess here.
This past weekend I think I managed to clock more hours outside than in my apartment.
Just as it should be.

Since it is almost May, my heart and head are full of "next step" thoughts.
So many decisions to make, so many goodbyes to say, so much change ahead.
I am equal parts deeply sad and anxiously excited.
Depending on the day (or the hour, really) I want to either crawl back in bed under the covers and turn my brain off and hide from the overwhelming-ness of America or I want to burst through my front door and embrace the glorious uncertainty of what lies ahead.
I am more of a rollercoaster emotionally than I want to admit.
I think I keep it fairly concealed, but my teammates might have a different opinion.

With the end of my time in Italy, I am inevitably thinking everyday what I will miss and what I can't wait to get away from.
These likes and dislikes fit in very well with my current schizophrenia.

Here's the lastest brutto/bella comparison that I experienced this weekend.

Bella

I already mentioned how happy spring time makes me.
But what really sends me over the edge is outdoor antique markets--in the spring.
I adore strolling aimlessly up and down aisles and aisles of junk/treasures.
I love the possiblities.
I love to look at something and think of what I could use it for, how I could change it, etc.
I love seeing things that we spend fortunes on in the US because it comes from "oooh Italy..." and seeing it here piled in with other junk for 5 euro.

Plus, I just really love beautiful things. I do.
When they are displayed in the sunlight with a light breeze blowing--it's just about perfect.
I can think of no better way to spend an afternoon.

Brutto

For the past two years I have tried to adapt to the culture here.
Mostly that means having to endure delicious food, long meals, weekend strolls, and coffee breaks three times a day.

But there are some cultural "rules" that are still so hard to get used to.
Italians obey the seasons.
Seasons dictate everything.
What you eat, what you wear, where you go.
Usually--no big deal. Each season has something in it to look forward to. I enjoy the change.

But one Spring time rule is that you don't dress for Summer when it is Spring.
Summer does not start until the end of May.
Even if it is 95 outside in April, you should still be wearing pants, closed toe shoes, and at least have a light jacket with you.

This past weekend I decided to rebel.
I wanted to sit in the park and prendere il sole (take the sun) and it was so hot.
So I wore a tank top and shorts with tennis shoes.
That's right--I went all the way.

I didn't care that everyone else was laying out in their jeans.
I felt comfortable and I fully enjoyed reading a good book on my blanket in the grass.
It was the way home that was strange.

I missed the bus and thought to myself that the 25 minute walk home would be enjoyable.
I was wrong.
You know that dream when you somehow accidentally go to school naked?
Yep, it was that bad.

It's like people had never seen shorts before. Or legs for that matter.
I felt so exposed.
I had to give myself a pep talk.
I kept telling myself that shorts are very normal, I am not scandalous, and that they are the crazy ones.

Non si fa.
It means, "one doesn't do."
I totally non si fa-ed.
I have never felt so uncomfortable.

I can't wait to wear flip-flops in December in Texas this year.

I will secretly enjoy the idea of how rebellious I am being.
And I will adore the fact that no one will be staring at my liberated toes.

Ketchup...costs 10 cents extra

2008-04-20T00:17:00.010+02:00

Sorry for the lack of posting lately. Too much has been happening and the internet is far too slow to keep up.
Lucky for you I've had a relaxing Saturday with enough free time to wait for pictures to load.
So, now as I sit in my favorite chair in our living room I will attempt to catch you up on the past few weeks.

Let's start off with a little roommate (plus Drew) trip down South.
We had been planning this for a while and despite unfavorable weather we trained 6 hours to Salerno on Friday afternoon.

Life in the South works on an entirely different schedule and we learned that right away.
We arrived at the train station at midnight, dropped our bags off and headed back out to party like Italians.
We crashed at 4 am.
This is a rare occassion.
I don't think I've even known that 2 am existed for months.

In the morning we headed out to Positano on the Amalfi coast.

One very rainy and windy ferry ride later we ended up in one of the cutest towns I've seen while being in Italy.

I'm in love with boats.
We had Mario and Nate to show us around.

We played games on the beach and met some guy who works for Spongebob on the ferry back.
Wonderfully unexpected perfect day. We were very sad to leave.

But the goodness wasn't over.
We went to this fantastic restaurant that night.
Drew had been telling us about this place for a week.
It didn't disappoint.
Three hours of constant food. Plate after plate of yumminess.

Drew was in heaven.

In the words of Kelly, "best meal I've ever eaten."

Back in Tuscany the next week, ministry was really fun.
Kelly and I have started to look at the Bible with our friends, Eni and Blerta.

These girls are so excited to understand more about Jesus.
The Gospel is new to them and I can see the wheels turning as we explained how Jesus did it all. We do nothing but hear and believe. The idea of not working your way to salvation is freeing but it takes time to process. We will continue to meet with them on Thursdays--so keep praying for the Truth to sink in.

We also took a team trip to Umbria.
We rented cars and headed out to see the sights.

I think we racked up 6 towns in two days.
Lunch in Perugia, touring Gubbio, dinner in Assisi.
We got a little crazy in St. Francis' hometown.

I wonder how he felt about cheerleaders?!
Then we drove to Collepino--the tiniest town ever with one restaurant.
Of course, it was closed on Thursdays--the one day we were there.
So, we drove on. Starving at this point to a town called Spello.
Spello was a ghost town too.
All of our stomachs were growling but the boys were on a mission to find food.
Ryan even ran ahead to check out some windy roads.

What a guy.
We finally ate and then checked out Spoleto before heading back to Florence.
I'm telling you--we saw Umbria. All of it.
And to top of the road trip, we stopped and got Burger King.
So strange, but such a treat to us.
The whole "auto-grill" experience is still very foreign and paying for ketchup is a rip-off, but...

French fries in a car!
Feels like America!

Last on my crazy agenda was my sweet friend Ilaria's graduation.

She finished what we would consider undergrad on Friday by presenting her thesis.
Lea Anne and I were able to experience a truly Italian celebration.
Spumante immediately after her presentation, a laurel wreath for the graduate, silly games, aperitivo for all the guests, and of course the mandatory graduation balloon launch.

Crazy afternoon!

I love the spring in Italy.
It may not include a ton of free time, but it's always full of surprises.

Oh my goodness! Did this just happen?

2008-03-27T16:49:00.030+01:00

Well last week was Spring Break '08.
Alright!
Even if we are out of college, Claire and Hay and I still planned quite the killer trip.
With killer pictures, so be prepared.

Here's a breakdown of our itinerary:
Lucca
Pisa
Fiesole
Rome
Cinque Terre
Siena
and the Tuscan hills (on bikes no less!)

My tour guide skills are a little lacking and my History degree is basically a distant memory so many times I either made up some fact about what we were looking at, consulted the all-knowing Rick Steve's, or I was honest and intelligently replied, "This is really old." So, instead of a museum-packed week (gag me) we opted for the more adventurous version of Italy. Hiking, biking, and when Claire left-some hard core shopping. (We love you Cla.) Oh and what makes a fun week even better? I got to say hi to my neighbor The David twice. I may have a minor thing for him.

We were girls with a mission.

Requirements:
1.Laughter
2.The great outdoors
3.Good memories
4.Excellent souvenirs

And I have to say: Mission Accomplished.
1. The issue of never knowing how to flush the toilet. Button? Handle? String?
2. Hiking, biking, Mediterranean sunset...hello?
3. The Cuban grandma on our bike tour with hot pink leg warmers. Oh yes.
4. Fantastic leather bags, girls. Really. I am jealous.

A quick reminder: We did take normal, touristy pictures but those are no fun to include. Here are the hilarious moments caught on film in random order.

With no further ado, a glimpse of the week.

This is how the trip started. Claire and I carrying a mattress about 5 blocks in the middle of Florence.
My room perfectly fit three beds--who knew?

Bike riding through the Tuscan hills. Wine tasting tour at Machiavelli's house. Four course lunch with some Irish people.
By far, one of the most perfect days in my 24 years of existence.
The icing on the cake?: This picture.

At the Trevi fountain. Some really nice people from Alaska took our picture. To Alaskans, Texas is really exotic. They made us feel cool. Claire and Hay threw in coins. I abstained. I do not want to go back to Rome.

Claire doing her best Russell Crowe impression.

The Cla's first EVER train ride.
She kept wanting someone to yell, "All aboard!"

What a cute little tower! I want to hug it!

Handheld Yahtzee rules.

If Looks Could Kill 3--The Italian Version.
(This is just for you La.)

Bike riding around the huge wall that surrounds Lucca.
And yes, I flirted with the man for a discount.

Hayley is always up for any new cultural experience.

On the way to Cinque Terre our train started to really smell. Somehow the Italians managed to act nonchalant about the whole thing, but we couldn't stand it. We can't help it, we're just expressive.

Sitting on the roof enjoying the sunset. And being a little goofy.
We had a contest. Mel (far left) won.
We also got yelled at in Italian in the morning for climbing through the window to get on the roof.
Oops.

The best kind of hike?
Working really hard for 2 hours and then taking a gelato break by the Mediterranean.

Showing off the narrow passageways in Riomaggiore.
And maybe showing off my hard core threads a little too.

Claire channeling one of The Price is Right girls and showing off the itty bitty Smart car.
Notice how it is parked.

Gelato is one of the sure fire ways to get people to love Italy.
Claire mandated that we eat it at least once a day.

Rick comes through once again.
I really think the man should offer me a job.
But, Claire, what is with the hands on the hip action??
I'm pretty sure the Vierling sisters did not teach you that stance...

What Easter Sunday is complete without seeing men in tights?
But the real question is--who else had fireworks on Easter morning?
Yea, I think we got you there.

I'm not sure if we caught our breath or slept at all, but we did make some fun memories.
It's all about the story, right girls?

I loved having you in my Italian world.
So fun to show it off, run for trains together and enjoy la dolce vita with some of my best friends.

Write your own Caption

2008-03-09T19:49:00.003+01:00

In order to keep my blog audience attentive in the absence of any real substantial post, I thought I would start an interactive challenge.

Make a caption for the picture below.

There is no right or wrong answer.

This picture already cracks me up with all its subtle awkwardness, so this shouldn't be hard.

(Click on the picture to see all the lovely details.)

The most creative or (let's be honest) the one that makes me laugh the hardest will be the winner. And that lucky person might even get a special little present from Italy...

Ready, set, be witty!

Observations of Italian Fashion

2008-02-24T15:38:00.008+01:00

After living in this country for a year and a half (wow), I think I may have forgotten how interesting and sometimes strange the fashion trends can be. Most of you know that my personal style is usually a little "eccentric" anyways, but there are things here that even I wouldn't wear. I know, shocker.

Word to the wise: Europe, and Italy especially, are always a few steps ahead of the rest of us. So you never know what may show up in Target within the year. Consider this your preview.

Hats. Very big in winter.
Here Mel and I model the two most popular styles. Poofy beret and girly army.
Old man style. Conductor's hat. Plaid jacket. Scarf. Colored pants (not black or khaki). And a cane, of course.
Pointy shoes. Nobody does high heels like Italians. My roomies and I really get into this one.
Purple=Me
Black=Kelly
Tiger Lily= Emily
Notice the skinny jeans.
Short skirts with tights and boots. Sorry the picture is blurry, but both Shandra and I are rockin this look. And yes, I have patterned tights on. These are very cool over here.
White pants on guys. Don't ask me why.
Oh and I can't forget to mention the Dolce and Gabbana belt. What are white pants without the huge DG?
Cool, colorful frames. Glasses are cool. Lisa Loeb proved that, but Italians take it up a notch with color.
My roommates pull off several looks here fabulously.
Kel's trench coat. So chic.
Emily's skinny jeans tucked into pointy boots. (This is what we like to call the "uniform.")
Work it girls.

This picture just so classic Italy to me for many reasons.
On woman: puffy coat all the way down to the ankles. Leopard print scarf. Gloves. (sidenote: it was only about 60 degrees outside).
On him: Pinstripe blazer with jeans. Monochromatic scarf. Man bag tucked under the arm. Shades--always.
Our fabulous president of the board, Donald Malcolm himself, sporting a rainbow of Italian trends. Pay attention to the orange/salmon colored pants. Those are key.
Dreads. They are everywhere.
These strange fluorescent backpacks. This one I do not understand. And they are shaped funny.
Fur lined coats. Oh yes, on guys too.
I have a minor insecurity when I go on campus because I do not own a furry coat.
And last but not least, aviators. You are not cool without them. These boys are just chillin' by the Duomo and although you can't really tell, they are wearing skinny jeans too. But, unfortunately, I think the trend of guys wearing girls jeans has already hit the US. Gag.

There you have it folks. The Spring 2008 fashion show direct from Italy. Where more is more and excess is a virtue.

(I would like to thank Katie Bearden, an embracer of tights and boots, for suggesting this post idea.)

A Valentine's Day Game

2008-02-13T16:36:00.002+01:00

This was a recent occurrence in the Agape office.

For those of you People magazine readers:

Who Wore it Best?

A Spanish Fling

2008-02-07T22:36:00.000+01:00

I like to stay pretty loyal to Italy when debates about places to travel come up.
I boast in the food, the history, the art, the people...you name it, I think Italy beats the socks off of most other countries.
But, I've had a lapse in the past week. My loyalty has lagged.

I now have to admit, that I heart Spain.
ALOT.

From Barthelona* down to the Costa del Sol--I was pretty enamored.
Maybe it was just the vacation vibes that had me hooked, but I'm pretty sure there were legitimate "perfect moments" sprinkled throughout my time in the land of tapas.

We went for our mid-year conference in Nerja, but we managed to tack on a weekend girls trip to Barcelona.
Both were so fun and just what we needed after a blah winter.

We hit up Barcelona as any good tourist should: with absolutely no plan.
Not even a hint of a plan really.
So we wandered and pointed out old things to each other and then read the Rick Steve's book that our lovely hotel provided at the end of our days.
We basked in the Spanish sun in Gaudi's parks, saw Picasso's museum, and hit the tapas bars for dinner at 9pm.
But, as all good girl trips go, its not the things you are supposed to do that are fun, its the unexpected that ends up being hilarious.

Our hotel room of ALL pink (beds, walls, fans, pipes, dressers) was a big hit.

Serious emo pictures taken all over the city, of course.

Watching old people burst into organized dances--hilarious and adorable.

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

And those moments of genuine Barthelona love. (usually accompanied with song.)

Then it was off to the conference.
We had all of the Stinters and some ICS from Western Europe, North Africa and the Middle East.
It was so fun to have everyone back together--I always love a party!

And I mean, time with the Lord is pretty wonderful when you are looking out on this:

Such a refreshing week with great teaching and great people and great scenery.
Unfortunately, I didn't take a ton of pictures cuz I was just so busy laughing and hanging out with people I love.
We did go to Granada (Katie, I finally made it to your city!) on a day off and I went to the Alambra.
I had never even heard of it before (apparently its really important or well known or something) and let me just say that I have a new obsession with tile and reflecting pools.
Look at this:

I love it. And some day I'm gonna copy it.
The mosaics, not the swanky water thing.

So, yeah, I like Spain.
Italy isn't offended though. She knows her place in my heart.
Plus, I've had enough huevos in one week to say that Italy still wins hands down in the food category.

*as the true Spanish speakers that we are, we adopted the lisp.

Can't make this stuff up!

2008-01-18T11:38:00.000+01:00

I'm not even sure I know all the details of how this happened.
Here's my theory of what I think took place last night.

Key Players:
Henry

Me

My phone

Some Italian Girl

Setting:
Although I do not call Henry, my married office teammate that often there are certain occasions where I text him about something. For instance, if we are all meeting up for dinner, I will text him the details. Or, like yesterday when I accidentally slept in, I texted him to say that I didn't sleep well and that I would be late. Things of that sort.

Plot:
Well, in the craziness of life, I never really put two and two together to notice that when Henry would call me a number showed up and not his name. I also didn't belabor the fact that he said he didn't receive my text message about over-sleeping. "Oh well," I thought. "Stupid Vodafone." Hindsight is 20-20.

Intrigue:
Last night, I got a call another call from a "restricted number." This has been happening for some time now, but again, I paid the minor fluke no attention. This time differed slightly because I actually answered the call. Enter Some Italian Girl. We had a very awkward interchange of "hellos?" "pronto" "ciao" and the like until she settled on, "Do you understand Italian?" I said yes, and to my surprise I understood exactly everything she said in the conversation that followed! It went something like this:

SIG: "Who are you? You've been texting my boyfriend?!"
Me: "Uh....what?!!"
SIG: "My boyfriend--you've called him!"
Me: "I'm sorry. Who are you?"
SIG: "Celia. Don't call my boyfriend."
Me: "Uh...(whimper)...okay...."
SIG (now known as Celia): "His number is ????????? 19."
Me: "I'm sorry. You said that really fast. What?"
SIG: "?????????? 19. Check it so you don't call him again!"
Me: "Okay. (confused pause as I try to translate something intelligent in my head...it didn't work) Bye."
SIG: "Bye."

Resolution:
Well after that pleasant conversation, I ran into the living room to act it out for my roommates. Somehow, to my great shock, I had become the "other woman" to this poor girl. She must think her boyfriend was caught up with some idiotic American girl who always asked him to dinner and told him she overslept!! We proceeded to laugh until we cried. Then we double checked Henry's number on my phone. And yep, there was one number off. Of course.

Sorry Celia. Wherever you are.

Invasion of the Yellow Jacket

2008-01-15T14:32:00.000+01:00

My little red head, yellow-jacket wearing, adorable sister made quite the stir in Firenze.
I am so glad our semi-ridiculous plans actually worked out.
After a tearful and unexpected parting in Frankfurt, we were reunited a mere 24 hours later.
No biggy. :)

Laura had told me she just wanted to see my daily life.
So we went to the grocery store, post office, and ooo yay! the office for work.
She was a trooper.

Of course, I do live in Italy, so we squeezed in a few fun things.

Right now though, I am feeling not-so witty so, let's just take a journey with pictures.
If perhaps my Lorelai-like tendencies do return, I might add some interesting captions.

We took a day trip to Verona with the team leader from Rome, Matt and his brother.
For some reason the "power stance" became very popular that day.

Bridge in Verona.
Hometown of Romeo and Juliet

Matt touching Juliet's boob.
Yes, it is a very awkward tradition, but who are we to buck the years of commitment to feeling up a statue?

Lou and our best friend, Rick.

One of many moments where I just totally wore Lou out.

Classic Asian tourist pose.

Little 21st birthday celebration.

My little Lou experiencing the wonder of cappuccino.
And finally understanding why I get killer headaches in America.

Sisters, sisters, there were never such devoted sisters....
In a rainy Piazza Signoria.

Dante and small child.

San Gimingnano at dusk.
Pretty. Er, bella.

Emily and Lou so excited to see our train pull up.
We got stuck in Poggibonsi for about 3 hours.
Never heard of it?
Exactly.

Going out on her last night in Italy.
Leather? check.
Tights? check.
Boots? check. check.

Lou, I loved having you here SO MUCH.
No one else makes trains, planes, One Tree Hill, or getting dressed as much fun as you do!

You're swonderful, smarvelous!
Sue

Look Who Came to Visit Me!

2008-01-10T21:37:00.000+01:00

Sue and Lou together at last.

More pics to come soon.

Time in Tejas

2008-01-01T04:17:00.001+01:00

My forced Christmas break has been super fun.
I have been able to hang out with my sister, see my friends, shop at Target and eat endless amounts of Mexican food.
Thank you to all who prayed for my visa!
I leave tomorrow for my home-away-from-home.
Here's the run down of a holiday in the US:

First on the agenda: Decorate Laura's new house in B-ham. I was her slave for four days. Sort of.
Quote of the week: "If you stress me out, I will punch you in the face."--my sweet little sister

(What I like to call "Build your own paisley")

Second on my tour: my friend Wes' wedding.
Our "best" friend Charles kept Claire, Jess, and I highly entertained through out the reception.
Highlights: Jess snorting water out her nose from laughing so hard. Luke turning bright red from implying he was going to marry his girlfriend of a few months--to her mother! The bride's (identical) twin sister giving a toast and saying, "Don't you just think they look like Barbie and Ken?!" To which Charles whispered, "Do you think she's tooting her own horn?"

(Me, Jess, Charles and Claire being very grown up.)

Christmas with the fam was next. We went to the Gaylord to see the ICE show and have a very traditional Mexican fiesta on Christmas eve. Hey, we like to change it up!

(Lou and I with a frozen penguin.)

(Family dinner.)

Last, but not least: Joey's wedding and the chick reunion.
This is what I had really been looking forward to. Brooke came back from Thailand and we were all together for the first time since Lauren's wedding-- 19 months ago!! I finally had someone else to share in my fascination of cheddar cheese and Dr. Pepper. We had a blast hanging out in the ghetto Ramada, laughing hysterically, and just getting to see each other's faces. Thank you Jesus for such good friends.

(My Brookie is back--for a little while at least.)

(The chicks with Em and Joey. Can't believe our Joey is married!!)

And so concludes my time in the States. These three weeks have really been good for me to relax and process through things for next year. I am definitely ready to get back to my friends in Florence. It seems like every time I go back and forth between my two "homes" it gets harder. I love both so much and am so grateful I get to experience both, but I don't know where I fit. I feel like no matter what side of the ocean I am on, a little bit of my heart will always be left on the other side.

I will get to introduce my Lou to this other world of mine these next two weeks, though. Pray for safe and smooth travel, good weather and great time together.

Happy New Year!

A few of my favorite things

2007-11-26T09:21:00.000+01:00

My office team.
The Sound of Music.
Christmas season.
Brown-paper packages tied up with string.

Like I said, just a few.

Also on my list, but not pertinent to this post:
new magazines
warm towels
cappuccino
soccer players
painting
shoes

Back to the subject at hand:

I went to Salzburg, Austria!!

My office team decided to take a retreat and thought why not have meetings on the train and then enjoy some Christmas market time in the land of the Von Trapps?!
Obviously, there were no objections.

It was so fun to be out of Italy and to really feel like tourists.
I never knew what I was ordering or what people were saying to me--it was fantastic!
We got to eat a ton of yummy food and some very yummy beverages.

Here's the team:

Meet Henry. He is my desk buddy.

David, aka Big Tuna, and the incomprehensable menu.

Here's Matt enjoying some spiked apple/pear concoction.

Melanie and I thawing out with some gluhwein.
The perfect winter market beverage.

I did realize that I have an incurable habit of saying "si" to everything. I couldn't stop. It's compulsive.
I confused a lot of Austrian people over the course of two days.
I somehow managed to order my lunch (a frankfurter- yum!) in Italian, English and German.
Oops.

Salzburg is known for it's Christmas market and now I know why.
So many shiny ornaments and holiday cheer.
It definitely got me in the Christmas spirit.

My roommates apparently caught the bug at the same time, because I came back to this:

Meet Charlie, the potted Christmas tree from Ikea.
He's very cheery.

This is my favorite season of the year.
Scarves, gloves, and hot chocolate.
Christmas music.
Squash casserole.
Rain drops on roses...

Buon Natale!

Quest' anno, sono grazie per...

2007-11-18T15:36:00.000+01:00

Another Italian Thanksgiving.
With good friends.

The spread.
yum.

Kelly, Eni, and Blerta.

Elisa from Fiesole and Lea Anne.

Me, Nicole, Cec, Mistki, Paolo, and Stefano having too much fun.

Me and my sweet new friend, Luisa.

Our Festa del Ringraziamento came a little early this year, but it was so fun.
We had close to 40 students all crammed in Nicole's apartment to give thanks for blessings in our lives.
Great conversations were had and it was really beautiful to have all these people in the same place.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you out there!

Lost in Translation

2007-10-30T22:13:00.000+01:00

It has been weeks of haggling with our landlord over a promised couch.
Pleading with her.
Begging her.

"We are three people.
We have two chairs.
The floor is hard."

"You promised a couch from the beginning.
We are not being demanding, annoying tenants.
We just want to sit down."

After a month and half of this we thought we were gaining ground.
We had been kind and firm.
We had been patient.

Then, Friday, I got an email saying the couch would be delivered today.
Victory!!

We had overcome the Italian system.
We had achieved our goal.
A couch was headed to our house.
Visions of reclining and watching a movie danced in our heads.

We walked confidently throughout our day.
Heads held high.
And then we came home to this:

Two boxes and a bag of cushions.

These lovely items become...drum roll please...

Two Chairs.

Yep.

Standing in our entry way, speechless and perplexed, I started laughing.
I have no words to describe the absurdity of the situation.

I have replayed all the conversations in my head.
Reread all the email correspondence.
Couch.
Tuesday.
Delivery.

I have no idea where we went wrong.

Italy-1
Sarah-0

Somehow, I'm just off my game.
I'm gonna go sit near my new chair and contemplate this.

I carried a watermelon and now watch soccer

2007-10-18T23:09:00.000+02:00

Girls Night aperitivo ended with a bang this week.
We went to Slowly--the hip, trendy spot for those into aperitivo-going.
We were all minding our own business and having great conversation when in walks a group of really cute guys.
Now, remember, we are in Italy.
Most men are short and don't really fit the categories of "cuteness" for American girls.

This group walks in and the cute boy quotient for my entire time in Italy has been exceeded about 10 fold.

They get seated at the table next to ours, more of them come, then our tables combine.
A very Italian thing to do, but the waiter comes to check on us.

We are slightly annoyed that our girls' night has been crashed, but we're dealing with it.
A few of the ultra cute boys have smiled at us and said hi, so we're in a forgiving mood.

We ask for the check and get ready to leave when the waiter says, "I can't believe you're leaving! I just seated the Florence soccer team next to you!"

What?!
All these cute boys play soccer?

I have been terribly decieved my whole life.
Tell me why we don't follow soccer in the US?
How did I miss the memo that they really all DO look like David Beckham?
A soccer ball shaped light bulb went on above my head.

Well, all the girls are getting up, but in my head I'm thinking,
"I can't just get up and leave and not say anything--its Fiorentina! I mean, for pete's sake, that really cute one smiled at me!"
Here's where I got ahead of myself.
I should have just left it at the winks and smiles level.
But no, I had to forge ahead.

The next dilemma.
What do I say?
Do I deliver my (unprepared) smooth line in Italian or English?
Will I sound super dumb speaking broken Italian?
Will he understand how clever/witty/brilliant I am if I say it in English?

As I lean in to say something...anything, all the girls get up to go.
Now I have to be funny and charming and I only have 5 seconds!

Under pressure, I said something idiotic like,"Wow there are a lot of you."
Cute soccer player responded with, "Yep. We're a big family."
Smile. Nod. Sweat.
He asks, "Where are you going?"
Here we go--this is good I'm thinking. My big moment!
Then, all that comes out of my mouth is:
"Home. We have language school in the morning."

I have no idea what came over me. I totally dorked out.

It's not like I would have gone anywhere with him, I mean, please, all I was looking for was a good story to tell people.
Like: Hey, guess what! I talked to a Fiorentina player and it was -- oh, I don't know--Normal.

We exited the place of coolness and debriefed in the parking lot.
This consisted of us standing around--just in case they came back out of course, hysterical laughing, and pondering the night's turn of events.

Why did we turn into a bunch of 7th graders in there?
How in the world did they get so many cute boys on one team?
Why don't we watch soccer?
Why do all your words disappear when you're in a cute boy coma?
Should we go back in?
etc.

I now feel Baby's pain.
Cute boy + no time to prepare=
"I carried a watermelon."

Right on, girl.

Drum roll please...

2007-10-13T13:39:00.000+02:00

We have working internet in our apartment.

It happened moments ago.
I was eating oatmeal, when out of nowhere I decided to try once more.
And then in Emeril style-Bam! -- it just all worked.

I will join these people in jumping for joy.

Thank you Lord for answering our prayers.
And thank you to Cecilia's brother for being our "inside" guy.

Cultural Adjustment

2007-10-08T16:48:00.000+02:00

I feel like I have been cut off from civilization.
I have been having internet problems for about one week.

One week.

That's my limit.
Pathetic, I know.

But I miss people. I miss email. I miss iTunes.

Some of you have been frustrated on my behalf.
Mom, Dad thanks for making me feel very needed and loved.

I just wanted to inform you all that you can blame Telecom.
And you can rest assured that I want to be talking to you!

I thought that since I lived here last year, settling in would be no problem.
That just ain't true. I don't care what people say.

I have been in tears several times and I have been here one month.

The Lord is weaning me off of things I think are necessary.
It hurts.
My blog suffers.

So, this is part apology and part confession.
I need internet.
Telecom thinks differently.

I love you all.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?

To dispel confusion: I am currently at the Agape office which is supplied with interent, phone, and relative convienence.

Team Flo 2007-2008

2007-09-30T19:57:00.000+02:00

We just got back from our Campus Ministry retreat.
We have planned, prayed and talked about how ministry will look this year.
Sitting around that table, I am overwhelmed with the people the Lord has surrounded me with.
I am once again the youngest one on the team and I love that fact.
There is a lot of wisdom, experience, and love around that table.
The Lord is up to something in Italy and I cannot wait to see how He chooses to use this team.

Will work for wine...

2007-09-23T18:26:00.000+02:00

Last Friday, my team and I were invited to take a break from moving in and partake in the grape harvest out at our friends, the Ammirabile's, house in the Tuscan hills of Montespertoli. They needed some extra hands to cut down the bunches of grapes and honestly, who says no to that?

First of all, it is beautiful out there. The rolling hills, the tall cypress trees, and the smell of clean air are such a welcome break from the crowded city.

Second of all, the Ammirabile's are one of the neatest families I have heard about in my time in Florence. They used to run a Christian camp for youth, but now they mainly focus on their farm. They make their own wine, olive oil, vegetables, etc. They love to talk about John 15 while we are out there. They are a beautiful picture of an Italian family loving Jesus.

So, we packed ourselves on a bus at the crack of dawn and brought all of our wine making knowledge with us. Basically, that consisted of the picture of Lucy stomping grapes with an old woman. Seriously, that episode was on replay in my head all day...until we actually started working.

Here's the How To to grape harvesting.

What you'll need:
1 world's oldest tractor with large bin on the back full of "grape stick" (highly technical term)
2 cutting shears for all involved--preferably sharp
3 buckets for dropping the bunches into
4 men to come around when your bucket is full to haul it off to the aforementioned large tractor bin
5 the best picnic lunch of all time
6 lots of energy

After you have aquried these items, please proceed to the vineyard.
Tear off the leaves covering the grape bunches and start snipping.
Fill bucket, yell "pieno!" (full), wait for man to come by, get new bucket, start over.

The following are some excellent examples of skilled harvesters.
Take notes. Watch the form. The precision.

Kelly is a pro.

Ryan was one of the "bucket runner" men. He did double duty.

Hard core roommates.

Now we get to eat them!

This precious family served us a 5 course picnic lunch, gave us a bottle of wine, and invited us back for the olive harvest.

How much do I love living in Italy?
This much!

A little peek

2007-09-20T16:34:00.001+02:00

At Via Ricasoli 37 in progress.

We've moved in, but we're not quite settled.
More pictures to come, once things find their place.

Kelly, Emily and I have had some great roommate time getting our little casa situated.
We can wave at the David every morning and I wake up to the sound of cappuccini being made downstairs.

Here's a preview, ignore the boxes....

Living room.

Living room from the other angle.

Kelly and Emily trashing useless things in their room.

Kitchen.
(If you only knew how massive this was compared to last year!)

Entry way after day one of moving in and unpacking.

The heinous wires that I have spent too much time trying to figure out.
Phone or no phone, I refuse to look at them again.

Windows in my room.
My favorite thing!!

A little desk nook in my room.

The coolest shelves in the living room that need some major decorating tlc.

I feel so blessed by this apartment. The way the Lord dropped it in my lap.
I cannot wait to see the conversations that will take place at our table.
I am excited to see Italians plopped down on our comfy chairs.
I am thrilled to be able to cook in an actual oven!

Thank you Jesus for great housing! You are too good to us!

Stay tuned: More to come!

All packed up--Again

2007-09-10T06:15:00.000+02:00

Well, I managed to fit my whole closet in two bags for the second time in my life.
I should get a gold medal. Seriously, it was an olympic feat this time around.

You'd think that now, after I have lived there for a year, that I would know what makes the cut and what doesn't.
But, no.
I still have high hopes for my cute, yet slightly uncomfortable shoes.
And I still find myself thinking, "Of course I will need that Target-brand, American-looking sweatshirt at some point."

I will admit it: My name is Sarah and I am an over-packer.

Between contemplating how to shove all my worldly possessions into two humongous duffel bags, considering working out and then saying no, and thinking which color I would re-paint my room, I have also been thinking about the year ahead of me.

Once again, I am going to jump on a plane and spend my time working in a country I don't understand, in a language I can't speak, with people I don't know. And the kicker is, I signed up knowing what to expect this time around.
Serioulsy, Lord, this is the plan?!

I love my life. I love the adventures the Lord takes me on. I love knowing that the time I am investing in Italy is worthwhile and that I grow by the second over there.

But, left on my own, I would never have chosen this road. I would have picked the really wide, well-paved street with the gorgeous houses and tall treese on it. Every time. I am addicted to comfort, security, and ease.

So as I sit here and type this, having said goodbye to my best friends in the world for the third time in a year (remember the visa debacle), I was really trying to set out how I feel, how I am processing going back, to gage whether or not I am prepared. But I can't.

All I know is that Florence, Italy is where I am supposed to be. The choice is not up to me. He dropped this in my lap five years ago and I have never been the same. Thinking about spending a second year over there is so normal and right in my mind that it freaks me out.

I know I am not prepared for this year.
The lessons it will hold.
The challenges that will break me and build me.
The valleys and peaks that will dot the landscape of ministry over there.

And yet, I know it is all coming. A tidal wave of good things, hard things, frustrating things and exciting things.
Part of me wants to say, "Bring it on, Lord!" and the other part is saying, "Hold on one sec while I duck for cover."

But the monsoon was so refreshing, the lessons so perfect last year that I can't imagine not running flat out for the downpour again. I get soaked with the Gospel over there.

Thank you Lord for not leaving the decision up to me. Thank you for choosing this path, this journey.

So here I am. Two gargantuan bags, too many shoes, unprepared, but ready.

Laura's Locks of Love

2007-08-26T00:11:00.000+02:00

I am so proud of my little Lou.
She finally chopped off her beautiful Repunzel-esque locks.

It was kind of like losing a limb.
Not only did her hairdresser do it for free, but our entire family was there for the big moment.
Here are some pictures to enhance the drama:

Before

Measuring 11 inches

The point of no return

Detached appendage

After

Bag o' hair

Her new do is super cute and sassy, and of course, she looks beautiful.

Way to go Laura!!
Thanks for thinking more about others than about yourself.
Your eleven inches of gorgeousness is going to make someone's day.

And she's already told me the cycle is beginning again.
Any estimates on how long it will take to grow it out again?

On Being Back

2007-07-29T05:16:00.000+02:00

I have been home now for about two weeks.
I have eaten my fill of fast food and now I am over it.
I have fallen in love with working out indoors.
My jeans have never fit better--thank you dryer!
And I have been able to see faces I love (not all of them, but most).

It's been a great time.

I came home to see my house re-decorated.
Things have even been renamed.
Forget the game room, oh no, now it is the breakfast room.
What happened to the previous breakfast room?
Booted out for the "warming room." (pictured above)
I feel like Goldilocks trying out all the new seats in the house.

I came home to see my sister's hair longer than Repunzel's.
She's cutting it for Locks of Love at the end of August.
People barely recognize her, I think they lose her face in all that hair.
I pet her head a lot these days.

I came home to find that I am seriously addicted to coffee.
Not just any coffee--Italian coffee.
We're talking espresso here, people.
I have killer headaches if I don't get my fix.
The day comes to a crashing halt and I just go to bed--coffee is my lifeline.
My obsession with Lorelai has taken on a whole new meaning. I am her, only blonder.
So now I wake up with my mom yelling down the hall, "There's coffee in here. Drink some."
She hates headaches more than she hates caffeine addictions.

(this is not my house. just a re-enactment.)

I came home to a overly watered DFW area.
Streets flooded, lakes overflowing, etc.
One of the side effects has been a pair of ducks in our pool.
Cute, I thought, until my parents informed me that they "make a mess" in the pool.
I don't think I need to explain that any further.
So, in the middle of dinner these days my mom will suddenly jump up, scream "the ducks are here," and then go flying out the back door to scare them off.
She's even pulled out a lifeguard whistle.
Poor things take off like they're being shot at.
A warning to all birds: Don't mess with my mamma.

I love coming home.
I love that I don't have to fully explain myself and my friends totally understand where I am coming from.
I love how my dad has to suffer through So You Think You Can Dance becasue he gets overruled by three girls.
I love that my bed is so stinking comfortable.
I love that the Lord wants rest for us.

On Monday I leave to apply for my visa (again!!) in Houston.
Please pray for safe travel, all the timing issues, and favor with the consulate.
I want Italy to like me as much as I like them.

Yep...

2007-07-08T22:06:00.000+02:00

Its just about over.

I officially have one more day in Florence.
Boxes are moved. Luggage is packed.
Goodbyes have already started.

I am so sad to say goodbye to my teammates that will not be returning next year.
My roommates have made this year so wonderful.
The Lewis' have kept me laughing and loving all things cross-cultural.
I will miss them dearly next year.

But, I cannot wait to be home.
Two months in America sounds like heaven.

Time to see familiar faces.
Speak in English.
Understand a church service.
Have good conversations at Chili's and Starbucks.
Process this year.
Spend extended time with the Lord.

Bring it on!

I know my outlook will change drastically next year.
I cannot imagine saying goodbye to my Italians now.
This country still holds my heart.
I can live without a real cappuccino for two months, but after that.....

This year has far exceeded my expectations and at the same time it has been nothing like what I pictured.
The Lord's plan is so much bigger than mine. Far more than I could ever imagine.
I am just trying to walk forward with open hands.
I literally have no idea what's in store. And, I'm learning to like it.

The Lord blessed me with some pretty fantastic people to share all this with and it just seems fitting to thank them for walking with me. Excuse the following "oscar speech" moment.

To my team: Thank you for incredible memories. Thank you for boldly sharing the Gospel everyday. Thank you for loving me in spite of my sin. Thank you for answering the Lord's call. You are all my heroes.

To my family: I love you all more than words can say. Distance does make the heart grow fonder! Thank you for your constant encouragement and support of the ministry over here. Thank you for jumping on board with this crazy adventure from day one.

To my supporters and friends: Thank you for making this year possible. Thank you for your prayers for me and for Italy. I truly think I have the best friends in the world. Seriously, I could win a contest. I don't think I will ever be able to let you know how truly grateful I am to each of you.

So, set your watches for July 10th.
And watch out, America! Here I come!

Finishing Well

2007-06-17T14:24:00.000+02:00

A few weeks ago Gary asked us to make a plan for finishing well. At that point we had 8 hopeful weeks with which to meet with friends, take care of details and wrap things up. Most of that time has passed, and I am sitting here wondering what I have done with it. Usually writing out thoughts is the only way for me to make sense of my emotions, so with this attempt I will delve into those oft avoided “deep places”.

When an uncertain future pokes its pesky head out in my life, I immediately retreat and think of how in the world I got to where I am. My flesh wants to scrounge up every painful past memory, or every stupid personal mistake.

I think left on my own – I would self-destruct.

But, I have Jesus. I do have hope. And I have the immense privilege of seeing how He has been sovereign over my life in spite of my mistakes and my past. For some reason, He brought Italy into my life and has led me on the most exciting journey.

Because of His love for me, my heart is drawn to tell others. To go and tell others; yet another unexplainable thing in my life. My flesh longs for comfort, financial security, and a “normal” life and job, but I know in my heart of hearts that very “dream scenario” would leave me dissatisfied and depressed. So, in obedience I am a missionary.
Me.
Really, I have a hard time believing it myself. Why would He choose to use me?

My life is not my own. It is that very statement that I will constantly not understand, fight against, and strive to live up to.

How do I finish well, if I don’t feel like I’ve even started? How do you know you are doing all you can to share the Gospel? Why after 10 months, is it still so hard to go on campus? Don’t things eventually become routine, easier, more like a habit? Or is there more happening than I can see with my very earthly perspective?

I am a jumble of questions. And those were just the beginning. If only you could see the world inside my head.

In a joking manner, I have claimed to be bipolar. Dual personalities rule my body. Beyond my odd peculiarities: bold and shy, serious and goofy, organized and laid back, I know that a much deeper dichotomy battles within me daily. Flesh vs. Spirit. It is a war and living in Italy has made me feel this war deeper than ever before.

My flesh wants to cut ties and get outta here. Go back to my life. The one where I am in charge. I am wickedly selfish.
I want Chili’s, Target, the Village, and the chicks to make me comfortable, feel in control, and happy.

But, my spirit longs for Italians to believe in the one true God. For all people for that matter. My spirit says to come back here for another year.

The battle rages daily. Every minute really. Dying to self is painful.

I don’t feel like I’ve started because, I feel like I have spent this year being worked on internally. Slowly but surely I can feel the Lord transforming me. His work is never done in my heart. He is making the Gospel real for me daily.

Is there a way to leave a mission field without regrets? I haven’t been bold enough, I haven’t met with that person enough, I didn’t pray enough, I wish I had an answer for those hard questions…. Or do you leave knowing that it’s not up to you.
Salvation belongs to the Lord. But my heart wants to know if He has considered me faithful.
Have I been a fragrant aroma, Lord?

When my head goes to this place, I instantly want to say, “Chill. You’re coming back next year. You can make up for it. You’ve got time.” But I don’t want to gloss over this feeling. Plus, I will just be setting aside these emotions for another year.

I have seen the Lord work this year. In me, in others, and in Italy. I look forward to seeing more of that change. I am scared of new challenges. I am scared of not being good at my new job. I am scared of not knowing what happens after Italy.

Will I trust Him? Where will I run? Is it worth it?

I know there is only one answer to those questions.
Yes, I will.
To Him, my only satisfaction.
Absolutely.
I wish I could say that I was always confident in them.

Finishing well. What does the Lord expect? How do you leave a place and people you love, knowing that their spiritual well being is still undecided.
It isn’t finished.
I don’t feel finished.
If anything, I feel like I can see the tip of the iceberg of all the things I need to surrender to Him, the things I need to learn.

Lord, keep my mind on you. Let the packing wait. Thanks for the struggles, lessons and hope that let me know You are here.

Pass the Proseco, please.

2007-06-03T20:27:00.000+02:00

All year we have been trying to find a way to get more women invovled in the ministry here.
We meet a ton of girls on campus, but they never seem to come to any of our activities or outreaches.

Why is that?

We have racked our brains for a good answer.
There could be many factors:
-Late nights means not as safe
-They don't like coming alone
-They are suspicious of us

So in attempt to reconcile this situation, we looked at our options and decided to be culturally hip.
Oh yeah, hip.
We have had three sucessful weeks of Thursday Night Girl's Aperitivo.
Okay, not the catchiest name, but it's working.

Aperitivo is the Italian version of happy hour.
Around 6:30 everybody goes to their favorite spot and for the price of a cocktail you get all the yummy food at the buffet.
It's wondeful.

Katie, Simona, Nicole and Ina hanging out and having fun.

And we have girls coming!
Slowly but surely, our friends are meeting us outside of campus.

Lea Anne and I with our super cute French friend, Clementine.

And as a bonus, we get to spend quality time with each other--just girls.
Never underestimate the power of a good girl talk.

My amazing teammates, Nicole and Lea Anne.

Please pray for this time. Pray for girls to be interested and for good conversation to happen.
Pray that this would be a safe place for them to ask questions and get to know us.

Thanks!
And cheers!

Boot Scootin' Boogie

2007-05-19T13:49:00.001+02:00

Throw a bunch of Texans in Italy to do ministry and meet students,
Add the Italian obsession with the soap opera Dallas,
A few Chuch Norris fans,
and one little apartment that could....

and you get the Festa di Texas!

Complete with grill, hamburgers, chips and dip, and Garth Brooks.
Texans know how to party.

I was suprised at how excited the Italians were about this party.
I was also suprised at my excitement level.
Spend 8 months outside of Texas--and the state pride just grows exponentially.

What other state could have a party in its honor?
I mean, really, have you ever heard of an Ohio party?
Or a South Dakota party?

No offense to anyone, but seriously--Texas IS the best.
And after packing our tiny apartment with over 40 Italians, they agree with me.

My sweet friend Ilaria and her own cowboy hat.
That's right, she owns one.
Brownie points for her.

Vittorio, a new believer, in Katie's hat.

Our apartment has never looked better.

The football shrine.
It reads:
Things we love about Texas:
country music
bar-b-que
cowboys
Dallas, Houston, Austin
the Texas two step
and...
American Football

We had to give the soccer fans something to disagree about.

Ryan preparing the meat for the amazing hamburgers.

Matt grilling the hamburgers.
He was a popular guy that night.

Boys and their burgers.
I quote Nico, "This is the best sandwich I have ever had."

The line dancing lesson.
Italians are many things: warm, friendly, great cooks...
But, the entire country lacks rhythm, so line dancers they are not.

We had a great turnout.
I'm sure our neighbors hated us.
Or maybe they were just jealous.

It was quite the night.
Italians stay up late.
This is what happens to Americans when we stay up that late.
This is also what happens when Italians bring homemade wine.
Beware.

I love learning about culture.
After eight months though, sharing my culture was really fun.
I'm sure they all think we ride horses to school and have oil rigs in our backyards, but hey, at least they heard some good ol' country music.

Life and Knitting

2007-04-27T14:43:00.000+02:00

So many changes have taken place in my life in the span of one year that I sometimes have trouble taking it all in.
It is often hard to feel really settled here in Italy.
I know that it is temporary and I am constatly battling the cultural differences that tend to chip away at my well-ingrained perspective of how the world should run.

I had to find sanity somewhere.
From spring of senior year at A&M through this year in Italy, one thing has remained constant.

Knitting.

That's right.
And I stand proudly by my grandma-like hobby.

I may have moved from every comfort of home: family, friends, Tex-Mex...
But, knitting is a worldwide phenomenon.

After a lengthy search in the fall for someone who could continue to teach me how to create something out of a ball of yarn and two sticks, my hobby was restored to it's rightful place in my life.

Daniela has been a huge blessing to me this year--and I doubt she even knows it.
She is my refuge from the city, my quiet place to practice Italian, and make a fool of myself as I make mistake after mistake.

Currently, my project is still in process.
I started working on a sweater with Daniela around the end of October.
At this point, I will be displaying my handiwork when I am 40.
I really hope sweaters are still stylish in 2024.

But, much like other things in life, it's the journey that counts, right?
And I love having an excuse to go see Daniela and the other ladies that knit with her.

We're a very multi-generational, international little family.
I admire their work, they laugh at me, and often they give me candy.
I feel like that little girl in the Worhter's butterscotch commercials getting candy from her grandpa.

Knitting has not only supplied me with a creative outlet, but I have caught glimpses of culture thorugh my time there.
Daniela normally charges for each lesson, but I started helping her with translation for her website and she said we were even.
I haven't done any translating this semester and she refuses to let me pay.
Once you are friends, all is taken care of, it's about the relationship now, not the money.
It may take longer to make a friend in Italy, but once they trust you, they respond with extreme loyalty.

I have learned so much from living overseas this year.
I have learned some of the things that make me tick: creativity and friendships.

Knitting and Daniela makes me feel like I really live here.

But, I think next time I'll make a hat.
Surely that will be finished before I really am a grandma.

Sarah’s Guide to Southern Italy

2007-04-16T14:15:00.000+02:00

I have certainly clocked some mileage this week.
And taken more modes of public transportation than I care to recount.
But, in the end, it was all worth it.

Our little crew of four set out for Amalfi on Thursday morning.
The Turners, Ryan’s friend Ryan, and myself were under the impression that we would be soaking up the sun in a mere 4 hours.
We were stoked.

We were sadly mistaken.
Our trip ended up taking about 7 hours.
But it was adventure-filled, so we were entertained.

After a euro-star to Naples, we got on a ghetto above-ground metro thing to Sorrento, and then boarded a bus for the most insane ride of all time.
I don’t know who was crazy enough to make the roads along the Amalfi coast, but I bet you a round of Limoncello that they never meant for a greyhound to go free-wheeling around these hairpin turns.
Between my nausea and gasps of fear, I managed to snap this picture of Franco, our rock-star of a bus driver.

Not only did he think it was hilarious that I would grab onto anything around me when I saw my life flash before my eyes, but he had no problem driving the bus monstrosity with one hand as he wedged between cliffs, walls, cars, and people.
Here are the two Ryans, smiling because they can’t see off the edge of the cliff from Lea Anne’s window.

Our hotel was perfect and Lea Anne and I easily spotted where we would spend the entire next day.

Amalfi really is so cute and it was the perfect spot to soak up some sun, mentally rest, and spiritually recharge.
It was also a great place to enjoy the culture of the South of Italy.
The South is famous for ginormous lemons.
My roommates had requested a large lemon for our apartment.

But after seeing them, I was greatly disturbed and just couldn’t bring myself to pack that freak show in my backpack.
Sorry, girls.

During the day, Lea Anne and I laid out and had a really yummy lunch of salmon pizza.
Trust me—it was great!

The boys were not exactly into the laying-out scene so they rented a boat and drove to Positano.

I know you can’t tell, but that little speck on the water is them.

This is what the boys and the boat looked like up close.

They were gracious enough to come pick us up in the harbor and take us to see some scenery along the coast.

Beautiful!

Even though we only had one full day in Amalfi, it was perfect.
I highly recommend this adorable, relaxed, rustic beach town.
If only the travel time was a little shorter…

Sarah's Guide to Northern Italy

2007-04-10T19:37:00.000+02:00

I want to keep all you wonderful people updated about ministry here.
But, let's face it, I live in Italy.

So, I'm gonna channel Rick Steve's on this one and just tell you about cool places and pretty things.

I get to do this because it's vacation time for Agape Italia.
And I have never been more ready for a vacation.
My feet hurt and I can't think anymore--literally.

So I devised the perfect plan for the unthinking, indecisive me--two trips!
(Part Two soon to follow)

The first was to Milan and the Lakes in Northern Italy.
I went with Katie and her parents.

It was great to see Milan--it took about 30 minutes to see the sights.
The Duomo, the old castle, and the galleria (above).
And that was it.
We had wonderful tour guides in some old friends from Aggieland.

My final word on Milan: It makes me love Florence even more.

But it does have location going for it--only one hour to Lake Como.

If you have time to get up north, Lake Como is worth the effort.
Precious little cities scattered about on the lakeshore and really fun ferries to get you around.

Adorable places to eat on the water.

And super cute shopping streets that have an uphill maze quality that is charming and good for the hamstrings all at the same time.

Also, Como is famously known as the place where George Clooney owns a villa.
Katie and I were on the lookout for him, but we only managed to run into Hilary Swank.
She smiled at me and then I calmly walked out of the store so I could freak out!

I thought Lake Como would be hard to top, but the next day we went to Lake Maggiore.
I had never even heard of this place before.
It's like this secret little Italian getaway--and I think the Italians want to keep it that way.
We were the only foreigners there.

Lake Maggiore has three adorable, tiny islands in the middle of it and those are the places to go.
We only made it to one island, Isola Bella, but I could have spent all day there.
It has a beautiful garden you can tour, and great views of the other islands.

It maybe the affects of prolonged city-life, but I go crazy over water and trees these days.
My daily life of crowded buses and narrow sidewalks may make me prone to obsessing about open spaces, but I'm pretty sure anyone would love these lakes.

So, from your seasoned traveler, I say...
One day in Milan to shop--(H&M anyone??)
And then at least two days to relax at the Lakes.

Katie and I give them a big thumbs up!
(Good choice, George!)

Tanti Aguri Laura!

2007-04-02T19:11:00.000+02:00

One of the sweetest friendships the Lord has allowed me to invest in this semester is with Laura.
And this sweet girl just turned the exciting age of 20!
So, of course, we had to throw a party.

I was in on the planning with her best friend, Giulia.
To make a long story short--everything I planned didn't happen.
Oh well.
We're gonna chalk it up to cultural differences.

We decided on a restaurant kinda far away for us, but no big deal.
Here, Cassie and I have decided to sit down because of another cultural difference.
Party at 8pm.
We show up at 8pm.
No Italians to speak of.
So we sit down.

Notice how happy we are despite the waiting and the hunger pains.

Unfortunately we have not adjusted to this devaluation of time.
The Italian girls do not show for another 45 minutes.
This is how we really feel about it.

Finally, we have Italians and pizza is on the way.
Let the party begin!

Laura loved her presents.
This girl is an accesories fiend--so she was ecstatic with her bracelets, necklaces and scarves.
Plus, her parents pre-ordered chocolate cake and spumanti for us!
Katie was stoked about the free drinks!

After dinner, we drove with Laura into the center.
Laura is potentially the worst driver I have ever met in my entire life.
So, the night wasn't complete until she scraped past a parked car.
Good times.

All was forgotten when we went "in giro"--(walking around) and landed at Friend's Pub.
A few late night coffees and a few bilingual Disney song renditions later, we wished our little birthday girl "Aguri" and hit the sack. I feel so old and tired with 20 year olds!!

Family fun

2007-03-17T14:55:00.000+01:00

Although we have been super busy here in Florence, the most exciting thing to happen lately was my parent's visit!

It was so good to see some very loved faces in the place that I love!
We had a jam-paced week of sightseeing around Florence, a day trip to Siena and a lovely weekend in Cinque Terre.

First on the list, of course, was my favorite coffee bar. I think I successfully got them hooked on cappuccinos!

We saw all the sights of my beloved Firenze and of course, with my dad here, I learned so much about this place!!
Who knew that Dante, Michaelangelo and Galileo are buried in the same church??

On Wednesday we headed off to Siena. The bus ride was quite an expeirence in itself, but here are the highlights of this adorable city.

The intrepid tour guide, history buff, and all around Rick Steve's fan.

Teaching my mom the art of taking pictures of ourselves.

The main piazza in Siena--Il Campo. This is where they have that famous historical horse race--for those of you who know about it.
If you don't--no worries--neither did I.

On the weekend we went to my favorite place in Italy.
Cinque Terre.
Five little fishing villages built into the cliffs, connected by a hiking trail (and a train -but that really doesn't matter).
We also took a little side trip to Santa Margherita Ligure on Sunday.
See below:

Let's just say I fell in love.

Oh yea, and my parents really are this cute.

Thanks for coming you guys!! It was perfect!
If anyone else is interested my tour guide skills are all primed and ready to go!

che succede

2007-03-04T15:46:00.000+01:00

(what's happening)

(Team Flo 2007)

My apologies to the blogging world.
One month in Italy has kept me very busy.
Here's a brief recap of all the fun that's been had.

Matt and Cassie Lewis are back! After some extended support raising in the US, the super fun couple returned with us in February.

We suprised Katie and re-celebrated her birthday Italian style--by going to a Mexican food restaurant!
(Regina and I are so sneaky.)

Kat from the Salerno team visited us one weekend. And I finally got my wish to go to this amazing cafe on top of a building in Piazze Republica. Don't tell me the 4 euro cappuccino wasn't totally worth it!

Matt and I have bonded in our goofy sense of humor.
This is our interpretation of Oliver Twist.
"Please sir, may I have some more?"

We had our first Agape dinner at Nicole's new apartment.
Somehow the topic of mascots came up.
They don't exist in Italy.
Nico learned alot that night.

We did some minor redecorating in our apartment.
Gone are the antique horse sketches and the painting of Lot and his daughters.
(yep that's what I said.)
And I got to paint!!

We met Francesco and his friends on campus one day.
The next day we celebrated his birthday by drinking Perroni.
I still can't believe they sell beer on campus.
(Have I mentioned that ministry in Italy is strange??)

I ran into Berenice at the mensa.
We were friends when I was here on summer project.
She still laughs at the way I say spaghetti, fettuccini and tortellini.

We had a dinner party with Matteo, Simone, Fabio, and Vittorio.
These boys are super funny.
They applaud us when we speak Italian. Literally.
Every five minutes we have to pause for "un'applausa."

So, that's the skinny on my life.
Hope your February was just as fun.

Feel the Rhythm...

2007-02-20T22:11:00.000+01:00

Feel the ryhme...
Get on up, it's MENSA time!!

That's right, folks, I am a licensed cafeteria goer.

Bring on the primis, secondis and contornos.
I'm ready for fish on fridays and two euro and eighty cent meals.

We get to eat lunch with students and start conversations in a normal way!!
Initiating with people will always feel kind of awkward, but over food--hey--that's common ground!

First the visas, and now mensa cards!
We're on a roll!

A new frame of mind

2007-02-10T14:19:00.000+01:00

I took this picture on our retreat this week and it just happened to perfectly fit my title.
Imagine that!

I was so encouraged by our retreat to Ronta.
Beautiful mountains.
Peaceful rain.
Quiet.

It was a great time to process the past few months and start to look ahead.

We are titling our break a "divine disruption."
Scripture is full of them.
Believers confused by the Lord's timing.

David is appointed King and then gets chased around for years.
Jesus tells the disciples that He is leaving and then tells them to wait in Jerusalem.
Don't you think they wondered why?

The Lord's plan often looks different than what we think it should.
And that's okay, because we trust, hold tight to Him, and obey.
And He takes care of the details.

The retreat was also great to cast a new vision.
Well, really the same vision, but it was time for us to get back on board.
We want to see Jesus transform lives here in Florence.
But we have several new ways to go about doing just that.

We have noticed a common thread in the salvation of the four new believers here.
They all were reading the Bible on their own.
They were all exposed to Christian community.
And they all heard the story of life change in someone else.

So that is what we are going to run with.
Getting them the Word.
Getting around them in fellowship.
And sharing our stories, or the stories of other Italians.

We have changed up the teams.
We have changed up the leadership structure.
And we have lifted our eyes up to see that, yes, the Lord is doing a lot in Italy and we will wait for His timing in Florence.

Thank you Lord for this time.
Thank you for holding my troubled heart.
And I thank you for the hope that these three days have brought.

Readjusting

2007-02-05T23:43:00.000+01:00

America vs. Italy

vs.

The differences are sometimes overwhelming.

The past few days have felt so normal, and that is exactly why it feels so weird.
Shouldn't it feel strange to be here?

As much as I love this country and it's culture, I really loved my time at home.
I feel so at home in both places, but I never realized how hard that would be.
Yes, I miss my car, my dryer, and Target, but my Italian friends make me want to come back time after time.

My brain is constantly on overdrive.
I have five months to really invest and dig in here,
but always lurking the back of my mind is the nagging,
"What next?"

I have all these contradictory desires.
Dreams and visions for the ministry here in Florence.
Adventures and goals for life in America.

Lord, where do I belong?

Well, jet lag+ re-entry= rambling.

All this to say: I am here. I am alive. Ministry starts next week.

Victory at Last!

2007-01-28T20:39:00.000+01:00

I have my visa in hand!

A lovely mug shot of yours truly is nicely glued into my passport next to a bunch of legal words in Italian.
Looks official to me.

Back to Italy.
My second home.

Back to cappuccini twice a day.
Back to multiple hand gestures to convey one word.
Back to my wonderful friends.

I can't wait!!

Never in a Million Years

2007-01-23T04:23:00.000+01:00

Once again my path leads me down good ol' highway six.

Since we are still waiting for our visas, Crusade has decided to keep us busy.
Good thing, too.
I was about ready to start babbling about that cleaning house business.
I already did the bathroom.
The damage is done.

So, my team and I are returning to work at our alma maters.
Since I am the token non-crusade girl, I get to work at Grace Bible.
My official title will be: Floater.
Odd jobs--here I come.

Ahh, back to Aggieland.
I can just smell the musty books in Evans and the Rec locker room.
And I can almost taste the Layne's special sauce and the taco salad at the 12th man.

Its funny how the Lord works.
Even after all the crazy stuff we have been through together, He still suprises me.
Sign up for Italy, get sent to College Station.
Never in a million years did I expect this.

I have had my time of tears.
I have spent some time in sarcasm.
And now I know I just have to trust.

I would never pause a year in Italy to check in on my college town.
But then again,
I would never think that feeding a ton of people with bread and fish would work,
and I sure wouldn't have thought that wandering in a desert for 40 years was a good plan.

But He's radical.
Radical to the point of seeming ridiculous.
College Station, really?!

Nope. I'm not in control.
My life is not my own.
Point well made, Lord.

So here I am:

learning
hoping
praying
waiting

to see what He has in store next.

But for now, it's three and half hours and one well-worn highway.

If this is His plan, then I want to be right there in it.
I better shine up that gold ring.

Aggieland or bust, baby.

In my spare time...

2007-01-10T06:58:00.000+01:00

Visas stink. I have no good news to share.
But my blog was crying for an update.
Seriously.
That picture of a passport was sad looking.

So, since I have nothing to do, I've been trying to be productive.
I wrote this article about Italy for Crusade.
We'll see what happens with it.

And if nothing happens, then at least its seen the glory of the blog.
And that passport can finally hit the archive pile.

There. That's better.

Intro to Italy: through the eyes of a STINTer

One college graduation,
One summer to raise support,
One lonely plane ride to Frankfurt,
One year away from home, and
One seemingly impossible mission: to reach Italy for Christ.

This is my story. At this point in the drama, I am only half way through. Three months overseas has already had a deep affect on me. Italians have shown me true friendship. Italy has broken my heart. STINT has thrown me into the arms of Jesus.

My heart for the lost has been expanded and stretched because of my time in Italy. Sometimes the extreme growth proves to be painful. To love a people so much, and to long for them to know Christ, but day in and day out to have them reject you and your God, is emotionally brutal. Most days even the gelato can’t mask the hurt.

Italians are some of my most loyal friends. Calculating time and distance from the first time I met them on summer project two years ago, and adding in the language barrier, they have kept in touch with me better than almost all my American friends.

Italians understand relationships. That’s why “religion” does not interest them. They know that the real meat in life comes from sharing it with others. Laughing and talking over a huge dinner that lasts for hours. Those are the moments when you are honest. Italians would make the best evangelists. Spending time with people, really loving them for who they are, and building trust comes naturally to them. Vera amicizia (true friendship) is what they have given me. Despite the language barrier and my ignorance of their rich history. They have accepted me. I have experienced Christ in a fresh way through my non-believing friends. It is this passion for relationships, this grasp on heart to heart communication that can bring me to tears. How sweet their faith would be if they would allow the most loyal Friend to bring Truth into their lives!

So I press on. Is it easy? No. Is it worth it? Oh, yes. A million times yes.

I would never go back to my pre-expanded heart. The pain over these souls is raw and real. But, these are my friends, and they deserve to have the Truth uncovered, they deserve this year, they deserve my aching heart.

As a matter of fact, so does the Lord. He never promised this adventure would be easy. Italy is His, and His heart breaks over these sheep without a Shepherd, then I want mine to as well.

One lost nation,
One group of STINTers,
One huge God who is capable of the impossible.

Visa Schmisa

2006-12-23T05:51:00.000+01:00

Visas.

I have never heard that word more in my life.

Visa
Visa
Visa

It feels like my entire existence hangs in the balance on that word.

It has been almost 3 weeks since we presented our case to the woman in the window.
And we have heard nothing.
Nada.
Zilch.
Niente. (italian for "absolutely zero".)

The Lord knows I struggle mainly with two things.

Patience
and
Control.

So this is just a lovely place to be stuck.

Waiting and not being able to do anything.

I have visited people, read books, checked email far too much, and caught up on Gilmore Girls and Grey's.

I am seriously thinking about cleaning the entire house just to feel productive.
Scary.

I knew I signed up for an adventure this year, but this really never crossed my mind.
If I didn't trust the Lord and His sovreignty, I might lose it.

As a twenty-something, we already constantly freak out about what to do with our lives.
Its a daily battle.
So being back at home with nothing to do feels very odd.
If ever there was a time to freak out, I think now would be good.

BUT, I know the Lord is good.
I will get to go back to Italy -- and He knows when. (and how.)

So in the meantime I get lots of time to think and pray and read and run and trust.
I really can't complain.

He is all over this visa stuff.
Hello! He made the heavens and the earth.
Visas? Puhleese.

So, I will choose to trust.
'Tis so sweet.

and now its my turn

2006-12-08T07:12:00.000+01:00

Lucky me.
I've been tagged.

Some of you may not know about this, but its the newest craze.
And I have been sucked in. Thanks Brookie.

I've been tagged and now I have to tell 5 things you don't know about me.

Here's to sharing secrets!

1) I am afraid of birds. Don’t ask me why. I know it’s an irrational fear. And yes, I have seen the movie.
I hate that they all swarm an area together, it totally disgusts me.
I hate going places where other idiots have fed birds and so the little creeps just come up to you. Hiking trails, St. Marks square in Venice, etc. I cannot relax in those places. If a bird is in my path, I will walk out of my way to get around him.
Beaks, flapping wings, unpredictable little flying feather germy things. I hate even typing about them.
(that picture up there is my worst nightmare)

2) I religiously wear my retainer. This could probably go along with the fact that I have had braces for 43% of my life. There is no way I am going to mess up the work of those 10 years. My orthodontist said I only have to wear the retainer for 5 nights a week, but I do all seven because its easier to remember and I feel better about myself that way. I think the pain of a poor fitting retainer is annoying and wasteful and I just won’t have it.

3) This next one might be apparent if you have ever looked in my shower, but I am addicted to products. I used to list Walgreens as one of my favorite stores. The real basis for this addiction lies in the fact that I truly believe what the product promises will happen. I am completely gullible in the shampoo aisle. Seriously, I am hopeful every time I go to the grocery store that I will find the ONE product that will make my hair perfect. I believe it exists and I will try every shampoo until I find it. One time I even bought shampoo that said it made your hair longer. Longer just by washing it! Don’t tell me you would pass that up—I know I couldn’t.

4) I actually really love school. I know this is not a popular opinion to hold, so that’s why many people don’t really know this. I love reading books and learning and going to class. I even have a thing for taking tests. I am a nerd at heart. Now you know.

5) And lastly, I hate roller coasters, or really, rides of any kind for that matter. Any ride that is fast or intended to be scary—I will not go on. I have been to Six Flags one time and I was forced to go with my physics class in high school. I rode the three wimpiest rides there, only because we had to do calculations on them, and I screamed the entire time. I don’t do well at Wet n’ Wild either (or whatever its new name is). Going down steep tubes really fast in water in the dark is just not my idea of fun.
I’m more of a lazy river kinda girl.

So there.
Feel special.
You know lots about me.

A reason to celebrate

2006-11-30T17:14:00.000+01:00

I'm in the mood to dress up.
Of course, in a LBD.

I'm coming home for Christmas!!

They are lights hanging in the streets.
All the window displays have changed,
and Mariah is singing on my computer.

This calls for a celebration.

Coco Chanel once said,
"A woman should be two things: classy and fabulous."

And I totally agree.

But when its Christmas time she should also be....

laughing,
with friends,
and wearing hats.

I'm positve Coco loved hats.

That's all I need.

1) Weather that calls for hats

2) Friends who make my sides hurt.

(no matter what the weather is like)

I want to celebrate with my knee-slapping friends and my hat collection.
Scratch that, I NEED to.

So crank up the Amy Grant chirstmas album,
and get ready to party,
because I love that I am getting to spend this time of year in Texas.

And I am so glad, once again, that the little black dress is appropriate for all occasions.
And with all accessories: including hats.

Fabulous and classy---and warm!!

Mom, this is the time to bust out the nutcracker sweater.
I'm coming home and its time to party!

I am thankful for...

2006-11-26T12:50:00.000+01:00

Thanksgiving

Have you really ever thought about it?

I don't think I really had.
I never totally realized that its an American holiday. Only American.

There is something about sharing your culture with other people that makes you appreciate even more what its all about.

Giving thanks.

Family.

The food.

When you think about it, Thanksgiving is really amazing.

We had about 25 really curious Italians come to celebrate Thanksgiving with us.

We had all the trimmings to do it up right--just like we would in the USA.

One massive turkey.

Too many casseroles to count.

And the most beautiful assortment of pies I have ever seen.

(Every family has their traditional foods, so when you combine 5 backgrounds--there are no compromises, you just get lots of food!)

We had to teach the Italians how to pile up their plate with everything all at once.
They didn't get to separate it into courses, uh huh, not today.
Its not really Thanksgiving unless all those casseroles get to combine on your plate.

Many of them really loved seeing the turkey.
They had seen so many movies and tv shows depicting American Thanksgiving and turkey is the common denominator-- always.

During dessert, we explained why we celebrate Thanksgiving. (history lesson, anyone?)
And then we described the tradition of going around and saying what we were thankful for.
It was so cool to really share that with them.
We had believers and non-believers, old friends and new friends, and it really felt like family.

I love them all so much!

So imagine yourself in an apartment that overlooks the street leading to the Duomo,
getting so excited to eat some authentic American food,
trying desperately to communicate in Italian,
and loving that you are in Florence.
Oh, and obviously, so thrilled to be with me!!

So, come on, grab your plate, I want to introduce you to my friends!

This is Lea Anne, Maria Giovanna, Paola and me.
They are in our English conversation class and we have so much fun with them!
Two whole hours in English!! We love it and they are amazing at it!!

This is Andrea and Marina! They have been dating for 15 years.
Yea, beat that.
Andrea is a fireman in Arezzo and Marina is almost done with her Architecture degree.

I want you to meet Maria Cecilia (our Italian intern), my roommate Katie, and one super sweet girl named Palma.
Palma became a Christian this summer and is now going through follow up with Lea Anne and Katie.
She practically shared her testimony during our "I am thankful for" time.
Real life change behind those cute glasses!
Oh, and Palma is probably not even 5 foot. Super cute.

This is Pier Francesco, or as us Americans call him, PF.
He is really talented on the guitar and he performed a song he wrote for all of us at the party.
He is passionate, loud, and searching very hard for truth.
We love him at Bible Study, he's our wild card. Always suprising!

For those of you who got to see the documentary from last year, you might remember Matteo. This is his girlfriend Ilaria.
She taught me how to make tiramisu when I was here before.
They are both so fun, love American culture, and are going to take me shopping soon!

This is Daniella, Regina and Nico.
Katie and I met Nico at the Architecture faculty.
Actually, he introduced himself to us.
He claims we looked lost. Ha, never!
He's a very outgoing freshman from Sardinia and loves sentences that call for the use of "awesome," "rad," or any other American slang phrase.

Nico is also the one that gave me the hardest time after my first major language blunder.

I made a beautiful chess pie for the dessert table.
And Cecilia was describing all the pies that we had for the Italians.

I had told her that mine had butter, sugar and eggs in it. (yummy.)
So she said that and then in front of everyone asked what it was called.

I proudly announced that it was called Chess pie.

All the Italians gasped and made a strange face.
Cecilia just started to laugh.

Knowing that I was just walking into it, I asked,
"What? What's the problem?"

Nico had no problem explaining to me and to everyone that
"chess" is slang for toilet.

Who knew?

I made toilet pie.

And then announced it to everyone.

But they ate it!
And they liked it!

So even though I won't be living that one down anytime soon,
at least I felt somewhat vindicated.

When in Rome

2006-11-20T13:20:00.000+01:00

I went to Rome this weekend.
Its kind of like going from College Station to Houston.
You always love the small city when you have battled through the big one.

I was gonna give you a detailed account of my trip, and make some jokes about Mary Kate and Ashley, but since only Claire would get those and I wanted to write about something else anyways, I thought a recap would suffice.

I saw the Colosseum.

I threw a coin in the Trevi fountain.

And I saw the Pope.
(yep, that's him in the window.)

Not bad for a two day adventure.

We also ate American food at the Hard Rock cafe (refills--yes!), people watched on the Spanish steps, and became masters of the metro system.

So, if you ever need a tour guide, you know who to call.

Now here is what I wanted to post.
My dad gave me this little book called Valley of Vision for Christmas a few years ago.
It is a little book of wonder.
Every page is magnificent.
Its old Puritan prayers, and for some reason they hit home every time.

I have read this one before, but it is exactly where I am and what I need right now, so I wanted to pass it along.

Morning Dedication

Almighty God,
As I cross the threshold of this day
I commit myself, soul, body, affairs, friends, to thy care;
Watch over, keep, guide, direct, sanctify, bless me.
Incline my heart to thy ways;
Mould me wholly into the image of Jesus, as a potter forms clay;
May my lips be a well-tuned harp to sound thy praise;
Let those around see me living by thy Spirit,

trampling the world underfoot,
unconformed to lying vanities,
transformed by a renewed mind,
clad in the entire armour of God,
shining as a never-dimmed light,
showing holiness in all my doings.

Let no evil this day soil my thoughts, words, hands.
May I travel miry paths with a life pure from spot or stain.
In needful transactions let my affection be in heaven,

and my love soar upwards in flames of fire,
my gaze fixed on unseen things,
my eyes open to the emptiness, fragility,
mockery of earth and its vanities.

May I view all things in the mirror of eternity,

waiting for the coming of the Lord,
listening for the last trumpet call,
hastening unto the new heaven and earth.

Order this day all my communications according to thy wisdom,

and to the gain of mutual good.

Forbid that I should not be profited or made profitable.
May I speak each word as if my last word,

and walk each step as my final one.

If my life should end today, let this be my best day.

Autumn is in the air

2006-11-15T00:04:00.000+01:00

Italians are very in tune with the seasons.
It dictates how they dress, what they eat, and basically the cycle of the year.
You may be saying, "yea, yea we know seasons."
But, I'm telling you--you don't.

Take for example the weather right now.
In Florence, maybe its getting to the high 50's these days.
It is unusually hot for this time of year, but since it's autumn and we are in November, that means you must wear a puffy coat down to your knees and a scarf at all times.
Katie wore short sleeves the other day and I thought she was going to get beat up.
You just don't wear your summer clothes in the fall.
Don't try it.
Forget your American thoughts.
If you are hot, suck it up.
This is scarf season.

So, needless to say, we need some cultural coaching.
One of the women on staff here is in charge of teaching us about culture.
She and her family have been here for five years and she seems more Italian than American.
And she inherited the Italian passion for seasons.
Meet Shandra:

So to catch us up to speed, we had a "taste of autumn" party on Saturday.

Autumn is very important because it is when the new oil and the new wine come out.
Olive oil and wine are like bread and milk in the States.
THE staples of life.

Its a big celebration when the new stuff arrives.
So our party focused on sampling two new oils and two new wines.

But before we could feast on the fall foods, we learned how to make them.
Shandra gave us cooking lessons.
I learned how to make Ribollita, which is a very Tuscan soup, only served in the fall.

And we made bread called stracciata or something.
Yea, that's right, we made bread.
Yeast and everything.
I was totally in awe.

So, for dinner we had: yummy soup, bread with new oil, fresh pecorino cheese, grilled sausage,
and to top it all off for dessert...

chestnuts roasted on an open fire.
no lie.
this phenomena exists.

At this point, I was just beside myself.
That Christmas song is no longer a mystery to me.

(that's what they look like)

I walked away stuffed, educated, and feeling more Italian.
One successful night.

Here in Italy we work hard (no joke), but we have also learned from this country how to take time to play hard.
Italians enjoy life.
Definitely my favorite cultural lesson so far.

So, don that puffy monstrosity in the 60 degree weather,
eat your salad after the other courses,
set a national date for when heaters can be turned on,
and enjoy!
Life is good.

We love autumn!

Life on the Run

2006-11-07T00:21:00.000+01:00

I've been running in the mornings lately.

Now, this might not be big news to you.
You might be thinking, "good for her. She probably needs to work off some of that pasta/pizza/gelato/etc."

And you would be right.
But that's not the problem.

When I run I think.
Ah, yes, the pensive jogger.
That would be me.

I like to think that I run slow because my brain is working overtime.
I also like to making myself feel better about my turtle-like pace.

So, during these chilly mornings in the Cascine (park pictured above), as every possible stereotype of Italian culture passes my way, I think.

I think not only about the little old ladies that hook arms and stroll, or the pumped up jock who's shorts are way to tight, or the scores of people riding bikes and talking on their cellphones at the same time, or the adorable families pushing their "prams" and looking totally Euro, I think about me and the fact that I'm in Italy.

Sometimes it doesn't sink in the first time.
Let's try again.

I'm in Italy.

What the heck?!

Life is so weird.

I ride trains. I pay with colorful Euros.
I exist between two languages.
I have a bus pass, a winnie-the-pooh phone charm, and I wear boots all the time.
I see the Duomo every day. I make fun of tourists.
I have been proposed to twice. (I refused both times.)
I drink coffee at least three times a day.
I use clothes pins for their intended purpose.
I use a plastic glove to pick out my produce and I pay for my grocery bags.
I don't have air conditioning or a microwave or a dryer--and I'm fine.
My apartment is older than the United States.
My morning run is along the Arno.

It's a lot to take in.

Not to mention trying to share the Gospel in a different language.

Sometimes this living in Italy stuff is really hard.
I walk away from campus most days totally defeated.

Where are you Lord?
Are you at these impossible faculties?

Why can't I speak Italian?
Are my hand motions and expressive noises making any difference?

Use me Lord. Use the weak things to shame the wise.

Jesus, reclaim these hearts. These lives.

Not every tourist makes a point to see the Cascine.
But I highly recommend it to anyone who needs space to think, to listen, and to hear.
In the middle of this city, in the middle of this darkness,
it's my oasis.

And for the next challenge...

2006-11-01T16:58:00.000+01:00

I have broken yet another computer.
I don't know how it happens.
I know nothing about computers
And therein probably lies the problem.

I killed my macbook.
That's like Lauren killing the mercedes.
It takes talent to ruin such good things.

So now begins a very fun game.
It's called "Fix your computer in Italy."
Think Amazing Race.

That's right.
Even though its Claire and Jess' dream, I'm going to live it for them.
I'd much rather be on Project Runway or America's Next Top Model, but oh well.

I have hunted down Apple stores in Florence, all to no avail.
But I did find one in Rome.
So now I have to book tickets to Rome on a train,
get off and try to find a store I've never been to,
and attempt to explain the problem despite my ignorance of computers and of Italian.

Fabulous.
Maybe that cool "check point" guy will show up and tell me how fast I accomplished my tasks.

I've been thinking...
Since this is my second computer to lose,
Maybe after this year I will become a hermitess who does not depend on technology.
I could live in a cool grass hut.
Wear a hula skirt.
Have someone mail me VHS' of Gilmore Girls.
(VHS does so not count as technology...)

Perfect!
Who's with me?
I want to be a hermitess with friends.

(claire & jess-- don't worry, i will train you in my skills for a small fee.)

Far and Away...

2006-10-24T16:32:00.000+02:00

This is the comparison I get most often.

Maybe its an obsession with American pop culture.
Or maybe its that movies are the first thing that comes to mind when thinking about America.

It could be the blue eyes or the blonde hair.
Or the fact that I just look so different from them.

Whatever the reason may be, all Italians agree:

I look like Nicole Kidman.

One Italian boy doesn't even call me by my real name.
He keeps asking when I am going back to Australia and if he can be in my next movie.

I got this reaction three years ago.
I thought maybe time would take care of the apparent resemblance.
But no.
I am foreign, I have blue eyes, so naturally I must be Nicole Kidman.
Perfectly logical.

So, yea, Days of Thunder, Moulin Rouge, etc.
That was me.
You've all been Bewitched.

the black gates of Mordor

2006-10-23T22:57:00.000+02:00

I haven't even seen Lord of the Rings.
I know- gasp!

But I have come to understand the meaning of Mordor.

Welcome to Philosophy and Letters.
The black gates are super welcoming--don't you think.
Plus the graffiti adds just a little something special.

This is my ministry field.
And home to the druggies, homeless and interesting.

I like to call them the "gray people."

Their dreads are gray.
The smoke from their joints is gray.
Their seldomly washed clothing is gray.
And they have very gray lives.

It fits, don't you think?

Now, inside the black gates is a little courtyard where all the hanging out happens.
One little square of intimidation.

This is the place my lighter would come in handy.

Granted, there are very normal people who go to school here.
They just don't hang out in the square of smoke and scariness.

They go home.
To safety.
I wish I could follow them....

Instead I get these lovely interactions:

Me: Excuse me. Do you speak English?

Italian: Only a little. (what a wierdo).

Stupid American: Can I sit with you?

Innocent Girl: Sure. (now you're freaking me out).

Idiot: I'm American.

Patiently-enduring Person: Oh really. (duh.)

Wanna-be Euro: Can I practice my Italian with you?

You will never be as cool as me: Okay. (this is gonna be good....)

And several mistakes and awkward pauses later, we get to Jesus.
Its a wonderful way to do ministry.
In stupidity, you stay humble.

I have come to love Mordor and the gray people.
But I still have afternoons when I want to go running far, far away and call my Momma.
Its a lot of give and take.

After a bad day at Mordor, we tend to watch Alias.
We've already gone through about 15 episodes.
I'm afraid we're gonna go through 'em pretty fast.

But then there's always Gilmore Girls.

"if you're out on the road, feeling lonely and so cold, all you have to do is call my name and I'll be there on the next train...."

Once I am Lorelai-witty in Italian, Mordor doesn't stand a chance!

a trip for the taste buds

2006-10-18T20:45:00.000+02:00

There is a little town in Italy called Perugia.
Once a year alot of people come to this city.
Why? you may ask,
Is it for the ancient city?
For the wonderful art?
A little history lesson?

Nope.
They come for chocolate.
Plain and simple.

Milk, semi-sweet, dark and extra dark.
It all comes out for one week in October.
Its the European Chocolate Festival.

Yummy.

Ryan and Lea Anne love chocolate.
They decided that the chocolate festival goes on the pro/con list of re-stinting.

And it gets better.
They give out free stuff.

One more time....

FREE samples!

chocolate, coca-cola light, nestea, barbies...
They had it all.

Regina sweet talked our way inside the gigantic Baci house.

And this was our reward!

Then we met the bouncer at the Lindt exhibit.
His name was David.
And apparently he is sweet like candy.

After he let us in, we got to sample all kinds of chocolate.

And I met a cute server-boy.
I asked to take his picture, and he gave me extra candy.
Its like trick-or-treat for adults!

Here's the team as we savor the rewards and add to the candy headaches.

My favorite thing I ate all day was a chocolate and whip cream pastry!
Whip cream is hard to find over here--so I was thrilled.
As I sunk my teeth into this luxurious "i'd beat a donut blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back" pastry, I was pretty happy.

Perugia, thank you for being a lovely host.
Europe, thank you for being so cool as to have a chocolate festival.

Cheers to you and to all that free stuff!

A little anniversary present

2006-10-12T17:40:00.000+02:00

Many of you have never seen the face pictured above with me.

But many of you have heard about her.

Look carefully, she is one of the reasons I came back to Italy.

She is the one person that I have ever felt super connected to without even speaking the same language.

Everyone, meet Marina.
My Marina.
We met 3 years ago.
We knew each other for one month and cried when I had to leave.
She gave me a coffee pot.

And since I got here we have been trying to meet.
Text messages have been very frustrating.
I actually called her one time, feeling very confident in my language ability.
That was a funny phone call.
I was quickly humbled and we've stuck to texting ever since.

When I was assinged to the Architecture faculty team, the first thing I thought of was Marina.
She's an architecture major.

So the other day--my one month anniversary of being in Florence,
I was sitting in the cafe with my two teammates,
and guess what....

Marina just waltzed on in.
We were both speechless.
It was a combination of being so suprised and having no Italian words to express my joy!
What a great way to finish one month!

We had lunch and she told me I got prettier since the last time I was here.
She's so my favorite Italian.

Divine appointments really make my day.

Got a light?

2006-10-09T17:36:00.000+02:00

Ministry in a foreign country is an interesting mix of emotions.
As a human, I want to blend in and be liked and be cool.
Italians are the epitome of cool.
They are trendy, European people who wear sunglasses even in the dark.
I have met some students who are very nice and friendly.
But on the outside, they are super intimidating.
When I walk on campus, I immediately feel out of place.

I am blonde.
I am unnecessarily tall.
I don't speak Italian.
I don't smoke.

Now, those of you who know me well, remember the days I tried to change the first fact.
Brunette was not a good look for me.
We won't go back there.

I have tried countless times to shrink.
But alas, I have come to embrace all five feet, eleven inches of me.

I am working on the Italian thing.
I think I am getting somewhere.
I feel like a total idiot, but people tell me that's a good thing.

So onto the last item.
Now don't freak out.
I'm not going to start smoking.
Although the thought has crossed my mind.
Ministry would be so easy.
Smoke break=conversation.

Anybody remember that Friends episode?
Rachel did it.
She started smoking to be included.
Her smoking kick didn't last long though.
Plus, she coughed all the time.
Not cool.
I would doubly stand out if I coughed all the time.

So here's my solution.
I think I might carry a lighter with me.
Italians are always asking each other, and total strangers, for a light.
Granted, I don't want to encourage thier habit.
But believe me, there is no use in trying to discourage it.
Its a way of life here.

So I will be there for them in their time of need.
Tall, blonde, American lighter-girl.
That's how I'll be known.

I'm gonna start working on how I can transition from,
"Got a light?" to "Jesus is the light."

Culturally relevant ministry.
Brilliant.

Mi chiamo Sara.

2006-10-01T15:06:00.000+02:00

I am no longer allowed to be Sarah.
What I thought of myself, must be erased.
Italians don't do H's.
My name is wrong.
Sorry Mom.

So just call me Sara.
But with a long A sound.
The other way means night.
That's no good.

This learning a new lanugage thing is hard.
Besides having to change my identity, you have to study!

I just finished my first two weeks of intensive Italian language study.

It was a mix of fun and frustrating.
We had a wonderful teacher, Maria.

She spoke only in Italian....
She liked to call on people and make them answer stuff....
Most of the time we didn't understand the question....
Nothing like having a cute Italian woman raise her voice at you....

Most of the time I made up very impressive sentences like:
"i like spaghetti."
"the boy kissed the girl."
"my grandma is old."

Maria reprimanded me for the last one.
Apparently there are several words to choose from when describing age, and I chose poorly.

After the time we put into language boot camp, we got a reward!

That's right.
A mini vacation.
Go ahead, jealousy is the correct emotion in this case.

We rented cars and drove (more stories on this fact later) to a town outside of Florence and then took a side trip to the beach.
So, needless to say, I love ministry in Italy.

I just called to say, "I love you."

2006-09-24T19:23:00.000+02:00

Stevie Wonder knows his stuff.

He knows phone calls make people feel loved.

That's why the 2 week frustration of not being able to get our Lingo phone to work ended tonight amidst gleeful squeals.

We have tried so many things. Different plugs, different configurations, different electronic stores, and different Italian men trying to understand our predicament.

All to no avail.

We have had some small moments of victory.
Paolo was very nice and found the right adaptor for us.

True, he did want three kisses afterwards. But, hey, he did come through for us.

Katies has spent countless hours sitting with all the cords and boxes and computers sprawled out on the floor trying to assess the situation. (see picture above)

All we wanted was to call our family and friends and say--how much we care and that we mean it from the bottom of our hearts.

Not too much to ask.

Stevie wouldn't think so.

But the Lord heard our prayers and tonight Regina spent an hour on the phone with Jeffery.

We love Jeffery.
Nice American boy.

Lingo had to do something and we had to change something and then....

All the boxes were happy.
Then came the squealing.

So, Lingo is signed, sealed and delivered.
(Sorry I couldn't resist.)

Thanks Stevie. And Lingo. And Jeffery.
We are truly grateful.

May telephone-induced joy begin.

From Florence to wherever....its all possible now.

Abito in Firenze!

2006-09-21T11:08:00.000+02:00

This is just a quick post dedicated to where I live!

I took these pictures the other night after we spent some time on campus.

A little peek at the Duomo through the streets.

A view of most of the city from Piazza Michelangeo.

One of my favorite places, Piazza Repubblica. There are always tons of people listening to live music at night. The gypsy band is always a hit.

A gorgeous sunset over the Ponte Vecchio. This is called the "bewitching hour," you can't see this and not fall in love with Florence!

My New Home

2006-09-14T10:12:00.000+02:00

Sorry for the delay in the “I arrived” post, but when you’re in another country you’re not always in charge of your own schedule.

For starters, praise the Lord (and thank you for your prayers) that my team and I got here safely and with very little hassle. I navigated the Frankfurt airport like a pro and managed to get my way through customs with only minor trouble. FYI: if the German government comes looking for me, I’m only here for three months. All my bags made it, so me and my stuff were joyfully reunited. I feel bad for the poor guys who had to lift it everywhere, and my Florentine cab driver wasn’t super excited about it, but to me my luggage and what it contained lets me feel at home.

My apartment is super cute, and super tiny. Here’s a picture of me and Katie’s room. I got to rearrange furniture right when I got here, which oddly enough, happens to be one of my favorite activities—so I was jet-lagged, but pleased.

We hit the ground running after we unpacked, and had a team dinner that night.
The next day we ventured out to get sim cards and cell phones, which took a mere 3 hours. Notice how happy I am to have the errand done:

After that adventure, we defrosted out freezer in our little dorm-sized refrigerator. I thought this would be a good picture to introduce you to my new roommates. They are very handy with a knife and boiling water.

My team leader and his family arrive tomorrow and ministry and language classes will commence next week. I am anxious to get started doing ministry, because right now I feel mostly like a mute, tired American. I don’t speak much during the days because I lack the skill and when I do speak they pretend to not understand me. It’s a frustrating game they play—but I will master it!

-----shorter blogs to come, I just had to get it all out.

Thanks for your prayers!

How much deodorant do YOU use in a year?

2006-09-09T01:35:00.000+02:00

That's right. You heard me. How much?
I guess-timated about 4 things of deodorant in a year.
Now, I am feeling pretty self-concious about posting that number because I do not know where I will fit on the scale of deodorant use. But to date, no one has told me I stink, so I'm thinking I'm okay.

These are the questions to ponder when you are packing for a year and the country you are going to live in does not have anti-persperant in their under-arm concoctions.
Right now you may be thinking, "eww gross!" And you would be correct.
LIfe in another country is a stinky matter.

I for one, am praying that with my 4 sticks of d.o. I will not be one of the many with b.o.
I may try to look European, but shame on me if ever smell like one.

With this dilemma conquered, I am ready to leave in two days.

I will keep you updated on the travel process. Please be praying for my flight to Frankfurt--I will go it alone.
Yep, me..... in Germany.....alone.....for a few hours--we'll see how many ways I can mess that up.

sv

Team Flo 2006

2006-08-22T20:10:00.000+02:00

Above is a picture of where I have spent the past week. Notice the large white buidling known as the "tent of meeting." Inside that odd structure, I heard some amazing speakers and learned alot about living abroad. The information I gained this week is going to be so helpful when I move to Italy, but the most exciting part of the week was meeting my team. Look at how cute they are below:

Gary Runn (far left) is my team leader and Nicole (front and center) is our assistant team leader. She has lived in Florence for the past few years and is fluent in Italian. Super cool. There are two married couples on our team, Ryan and Lea Anne Turner from Louisiana and Matt and Cassie Lewis from Waxahachie. Katie and Regina are the other single girls and are amazing. They are both second year stinters, and are full of invaluable information. They made me feel so welcome and I am so excited to live with them. Kaite will be my roommate. Aren't we fun....

I am home now for the next 3 weeks until I leave on September 10th. I am so ready to be there! This past week was so great, it really made my heart ache not only for Florence and Italy, but for the world. I am so thankful that the Lord has chosen to use me in this way. To get to point people to the cross...what could be better?!

Update from Colorado

2006-08-19T05:39:00.000+02:00

Hello friends. I am still in Copper Mountain, Colorado. It is wierd to see a ski resort be totally green. During the summer people hook bikes to the lift and then take the lift to the top to ride their bikes down the runs. Pretty funny.

Also in the pretty funny category is the fact that we (campus crusade) are sharing a hotel complex with a Hasidic jewish group. So mixed in with the college sweatshirts and jeans are the ultra traditional, all black, single strand curls, and yamakahs. Its pretty comical. I also saw a jewish man in all his garb riding a scooter down the mountain, curls blowing in the wind. Priceless.

And in other news, I love my team. There are 7 of us. Two married couples and three single girls. I am so excited about doing ministry with them. There has been lots of laughter already--so you know I'll be fine.

I cannot describe the overwhelming feeling of being "right" here. It washes over me every once in a while, and the Lord has been so clear to show me that THIS is exactly where He wants me. Unbelievable.

The growth and lessons that will come from this year are going to be so amazing. The leadership I am under inspires me and I have had the scary thought of, "I could do this for a long time" quite often. Such an odd feeling.

I will post pictures asap so you can all memorize my team. They have already heard several stories about the chicks. One of our ice breakers was about halloween costumes...so needless to say I had some material to go off of.

I have sat through 5 days of seminars and talks and I have one more to go, so I will be processing all this great stuff for at least the next week. My personality quirks have already come out alot, and we talk about personality alot in learning about team dynamics. So I have been forced to recognize my "internal processing" need quite alot.

One thing that does not need processing: I love Italy and I can't wait to be there!!

Packing a clothing-addict...

2006-08-10T00:27:00.000+02:00

Will it all fit? My closet that is. And my dresser. And those rubber-maid things under my bed. Oh, and my bookshelf.

How in the world am I going to carry it all? Two massive, "supposed-to-be-used-for-hard-core-stuff" duffel bags, and a ginormous suitcase. Will the weight of my junk crush me? Can I hire a bag-carrier-man?

I have often struggled with my love for fashion. The Lord tells us not to be of the world, just in it. So since He made creativity and style, and put those genes in me, can I love clothes while I am IN the world? The issues my brain must tackle.....

Maybe sending me to a foreign country for a year is the Lord's way of saying, "C'mon kid, you don't need all that. You can be creative and cute without all those skirts. Simplify. Be more J crew than Urban outfitters for a year." The Lord knows me really well. He understand my obsession with accessories.

And with books. Hey, He made me a reader. I was little miss book-worm at a very young age. I devoured everything from the cereal box to Babysitter's club. So He knows. How does that translate into living somewhere that writes in a different language that I do not comprehend (as of yet)? What qualifies as Must Haves and what gets tossed aside in the I Love You, But Have To Leave You category?

These are my musings a month out from my arrivederci to the US. My life is one of stuff. I'm not always proud of it, but I come with baggage. And this time its literal.

sv

bonus points for those who caught the "translate" pun earlier.

Buon Giorno!

2006-08-05T00:20:00.000+02:00

Welcome to my blog. I have high hopes for this little guy. I plan on covering all things Italy, ministry, and funny. I know--adventurous. But hey, go big or go home, right?

I wanted to let you all know that I am officially at 103% percent in my support raising. So can I get one big, "hallelujah!" Man, is the Lord ever faithful.

The next step in this ever evolving journey is training in Colorado. I am really excited, not only for the conference, but to meet my teammates. We have been emailing and they all seem great! One of them mentioned something about being a list-maker, so I know we will get along just fine.

I am getting into the emotional phase of the process as well. I am thoroughly ready for some new scenery, and try as they may Rachel, Phoebe and Chandler are not fulfilling my need for social interaction anymore. (Don't judge me, I could name names of those who not so long ago jumped into Dawson's Creek, but I won't stoop to that level.) This has been a summer of transition and it has held some very strange lessons. I know that for a while most of life from this point on is transition-like, but I am still adjusting. But just the same, ready as I am, I am still leaving for a year and that is super hard to wrap your brain around. So the teary moments have become more frequent.

How glad am I that the Lord is all those omni words?! You know, always there, everywhere!

Well I love you all. Thanks for putting up with my random thoughts and quirks. I wonder how the "bike horn" laugh is gonna go over in Florence?

sv