dam.

Again, a hiatus, but this time I have an excuse. I finally (read: another cancelled flight and much mental debate) made it to Amsterdam and have been wandering the city with Chiara and her Mom, Marcella, who I haven't seen in four years (oh my god how the time flies) and who is responsible for much of my obsession/dedication to the Italian stile di vita.

In other news? I come home in THREE DAYS. How do I feel, you ask? Conflicted, as usual. I'm ready to see my family, my cats, my Brooklyn (that's right, all mine), and my friends. As fulfilling as my time in Milan has been, it has been a bit lonely. I knew before I got here that it wouldn't be as enriching as the adventure I experienced in Firenze, nor as comfortable as my summers with the Richichi family in the paradiso that is Reggio Calabria in the summer. And, as it turns out, three months was an awkward amount of time. I'm just starting to feel at terms with my life here in Milan, and starting to feel comfortable enough to break out of my shell a bit. It was enough time to get some experience teaching, but not nearly enough time to live. But who knows how I would have felt after six months? It's a question I will always ask myself - do I leave having exhausted the experience, or do I abandon my experience prematurely? There is no correct answer, and as I have come to understand, the only way to decide is to keep challenging yourself. That's just the way the cookie crumbles - or in my case, the biscotto.