Between me and you

I ran away to Italy and it was the best thing I ever did.


An entire life created over the course of our year here, and what now? Most of us still don't have a damn clue, but then if we did, we probably never would've made it here to begin with, so hey, a toast, to making something out of nothing, to having friends at your disposal any hour, any time, any day, to constant entertainment, and even then, consistent boredom

to not knowing exactly what we're trying to do with the rest of our lives, to running away, to running here, to meeting you, to knowing you, to our palazzo, to the tv room, to rando kitchen conversations, to trash and piled dishes, to food thieves, to our crazy italian witch teacher sara, to castagna, to chiara, to quarters, to joshua tree, to food lion, to kebab, to the arno, to river rats, to miniature dogs and peeing in the streets, to weekends away, to endless train rides, and oh, to this all feeling like so long ago, yet as if it were all yesterday, to the palazzo plague, to sweltering hot summer days, to italiano, to birra moretti, to emo status wars, to sparring, to corner panino, to fiesole, corner panino, to the price of everything edible at the eui, to simulations, all nighter dgs, to professors dancing and singing in the middle of the street, to avid liver damage, to tijuana, to all the bullshit that is, to this fucking beautiful city, to bongos in Santo Spirito, to singing hobos and crackheads, to floor pizza, toilet tissue dispensers, 6 a.m. construction, throw up, 80's night, jager bombs, to speakers and professors who've never made any sense, to the gustas, to cappuccinos, to piazzale michelangelo, palazzo vecchio, piazza della repubblica, to deoderantless europeans, american breakfast, craving mexican, yelling at randos in the middle of intoxicated nights, to space, to Turkey, to civil and not so civil 'conversations', to frizzante, casalinga, yellow, central park, asia, the tranny park, to things disappearing into space, to the agony of morning afters, to photographs capturing every moment we never wanted to remember, to trying not to regurgitate in class or on Roma, to regurgitating in Roma and Ireland, to cara's facebook status novel, our greatest achievement on the eve of procrastination, to the Damn Cat, to the men of Italia, Albania, Lebanon, England, America, to bagged wine, to bag noodle, to our vending machine, ikea, cracktana, food babies, not killing each other, ricchi, gelato, to pisa, fiddler's, buses, boats, trains, planes, snowstorms in our fair London, the exchange rate, to vafanculo, to food babies, digressing, the vegetail people, market day, bus strikes, meepmeep, gg, and alex, to magi, cirque du soleil, to watching the entire 10 seasons of Friends and countless hours of dvds on top, late night political debates and civil arguments even in our intoxicated states, to the european union and to Firenze.

We've almost made it, no one's had a baby yet.


Oh, and I still think MTV should've paid to tape our life this past year. We would have so much money by now, sigh.