bonna noted.

Ciao (did you know you can say ciao for hello AND goodbye?  I didn't.  It's like the French, "salut.")

So.  Ciao.

I am in Florence, Italy.  Known by Italians (and others) as FIRENZE.  Which reminds me of the name of the centaur in "Harry Potter."  I think Firenze was his name.  I think.  Wasn't it?  Everything reminds me of "Harry Potter."

Ok, so this is going to be a random conglomeration of things I've been thinking since my vacation began on thursday.

I guess I wasn't expecting it to hit me with such a blunt force that I was returning to Europe for the first time after having left in July.  I mean, I'm still a little unsure as to what I felt.  What was it?  I don't know.  But when my neighbor pointed down to the lights underneath and said, "look, its Paris," I was hit with the bittersweet mix of nostalgia, longing, sadness, and complete and utter happiness that I was coming back.  Even for such a short time.

I was talking to Thom later that night about being back in the United States, studying Economics, a comparison with my life in Paris, I told him that when people ask me WHY I want to go back to Paris, why I am giving up things I could do in the United States, etc, etc. I can't give them an answer they understand.

The reason is not as much a reason, as it is a sentiment.  It's like....hmm...it's like, for me, its a shame.  It's  a shame that I know that happiness like the kind I felt exists in the world, and yet, I cannot feel it where I am.  It all came rushing back to me and hit me WHAM in the chest, in the face, in the heart, in the head.

So anyways.....

I was sans luggage for my first two days here.  My plane was delayed in DC, so I arrived in Munchen an hour late and almost missed my flight to Florence.  Somewhere along the way my luggage went MIA, somewhere along the way my hopelessness turned to sadness (it's a song, get over it).

Soooo that was fun, having my plane clothes on me for the weekend.  Going out, meeting people, baggy jeans and dirty shirt in tow.

Whatever Ranna, get over it, stop being such a drama queen.  Okay Ranna.

What else?  I mean, we've walked around a little, but I knew from the start that I was coming to Florence mostly to visit Yasna and Thom and less to actually see the city (sorry parents).  So yeah.  Keif.  Keif.  Keif.  Keif.  Haaaaaaaaaaaaal.

I'm a little self conscious about what I'm writing now because Yasna keeps looking over to read what I wrote...ohhh there she goes, other side of the table.  We're supposed to be working.  I have a paper due tomorrow (just my luck, i know) and she has 10 sketches to do for her class.  But work shmork.  I can't concentrate on the political economy of healthcare when I'm here.  Are you keeeding?  No, I really should work.  SHOULD.

Why does Jay Z go by Hov?

Her friends are awesome by the way.  Like, for realllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.  I'm really sort of obsessed with them already.  Really a fun crowd.  Anja'at?  Thats, "really?"  in Arabic.  Anja'at?  I say it a lot.

THAT and "Matrahek Baein."  that's "jaat khalli," or, "your place is empty."

Why am I in Florence learning how to say things in Arabic?  Um....not my fault.  Yasna khanoom has lived in Italy since October and yesterday we went to this cafe, and I was waiting for her to be like (excuse the spelling, I'm going by phonetics, oniontown, uniontown style (shout out to my main supporter!  Woo Woo Sima Lotfi!!)...)

"Escuzi, due cappoccino per favore.."

Only she was like, "Hi.  Two cappoccinos please."

And just now I was like, "hey yasna how do you say please in Italian?"

And she was like, "Umm.."

and then Parynaz told me.

Go Yasna!

Ok, I really have to start working now because it's almost 8 o'clock and I got nothing.  I mean, I have SOMETHING, but not enough.

I'll continue blogging this week if and when cool things happen.  Oh, on Thursday I'm making thanksgiving dinner for everyone.  I'm excited.