You can't fit 20 years in 50 pounds

The word ‘packing’ has forty two entries on dictionary.com. If you don’t believe me, look it up yourself. Forty two. Some of them even has a and b entries. I will say, as an English majour, dictionary.com leaves something to be desired. Like, for example, definition one reads ‘the act or work of a person or thing that packs’. But if this were a good definition, ‘pack’ would not be used in the definition of ‘packing’ (which, seems to me, to be describer a ‘packer’ anyway). So ‘pack’ according to definition twenty is ‘to put into or arrange compactly in a trunk, valise, etc., as for traveling or storage’. But I am particularly partial to definition forty one of pack: ‘to give up; abandon one's efforts’.

I thought I would be at that last one by now, but packing for overseas is surprisingly easy. Even though I would love to bring my violet satin peep toe Caparros stiletto sandals with me, I won’t because I can’t actually walk in these shoes and to top matters off, Florentine streets are cobblestone. So I left them and took the zebra flats instead.

It’s little revelations like these that make packing easier.

While it’s easy for me to know what I need to take, it’s harder for me let go of the things I want to take but can’t. Voltaire is bond to get me pulled aside in customs. My mom believes Maggie will die if we take her to Petsmart to get groomed, much less a transatlantic flight. And does anyone really think either Molly or Abigail will behave themselves on a flight? Cats ALWAYS have their own agenda. Always.

And then there’s my friends and family. I’ve known some of you a few months, some of you I’ve known my entire life. Some of you I known from Amherst, some from UB. Some of you have seen me at my best, some of you have seen me at my worst. But regardless, all of you have impacted me in some way. I told myself I wasn’t going to be one of those travelers who posted public and eulogic farewells before they departed, but here I am being a hypocrite.

To my ladies- you are the stars that guide my quest! With lots of kitties, and rainbows, and flying pink unicorns that sparkle. The only thing that would make this (hopefully) amazing experience better would be if I could bring you all with me. But, my suitcase will only fit one person, and the overweight charge is $150. Picking straws seemed cruel, so to be fair, I will build a teleporter to bring myself to each of you and kidnap you all one by one.

Julia, Megan, Kate, and Liz- if you told me at graduation I would be doing this, I wouldn’t have believed you, but here we are. You guys have helped shaped who I am today (ie, someone who won’t embarrass America overseas) and though we have all gone to our separate schools, sometimes (especially now) I still long for the old days when we were all together locked in Amherst. But I know these next three months will fly by, and when we’re together again it’ll feel just like old times, and I love that.

Rose, George, Skye, Thom, Andrew, Becky, and everyone else at UB- I can say with confidence that leaving all of you is the most difficult part of leaving, because I can perfectly picture the sort of semester I would have had if I had stayed (bonus, I would have secured housing in the fall as well). Whether or not the semester in my head is similar to whatever one I would have had, I’ll never know, but turning away from this image has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Last semester completely sucked, but you all were so amazing by the end of it, I was having one of my best semesters ever. I wish I could be there for you this semester, as you were for me. So instead, I’ll harp at you all from afar, and I know that no matter how much I’m enjoying myself in Florence, some part of me will continue to count down the days until I’m with you all once again.

To my brother- please don’t kill yourself in my absence. I might still need your bone marrow or kidney someday. I know you’ll have a fun and busy rest of the year, and when I come back, we’ll have to swap stories when Mom and Dad aren’t around to overhear!

To my parents- you are the De’Medici to my Botticelli, and I never would have been able to do this without your assistance. But more importantly, I would have never been able to do this anyway if you had not encouraged me to push myself beyond convention throughout my life. I’ll be forever thankful for you to this, and I’ll think of you every day that I’m gone.

The above does not even scratch the surface of the people I want to personally address, but it’s late, and there’s still a few more things I must stuff into my already filled suitcase, so that’s it for now. Tomorrow, I‘ll be flying out. Hopefully nothing horrible will happen. The first time I flew transatlantic, I was delayed in the powerless Toronto Airport for ten hours. And the second time I crossed the great puddle, I flew a red eye with no sleep from the previous night with enough emotional baggage to merit its’ own suitcase. Perhaps the third time’s a charm? I hope so.

Arrivederci for now, I love and will miss you all!