Jerz Times.

Back in Ridgewood.
Bob Sinclair blasts from the speakers of my laptop...and the wireless signal is strong as I surf facebook. Clothes lie everywhere on the dark green carpeting in my room. As usual, it's a little stuffy and hot in my attic...since the air conditioner doesn't reach all the way up here. A fresh fluffy towel is on the hook in the bathroom...and the stickers from 6th grade are still plastered all over the desk I received when I was 7 years old.

It's so surreal to sit here, on the eve of my return to Haverford. Remnants of Rome (and my travels through Europe)-- old ticket stubs, clothing accumulated during the bug scare, jewelery, and souvenirs all occupy space in my room...and my Italian mix (of all the hits from MTV Italia and other songs my friends and I listened to) shuffles through my itunes. But that's all they are. Remnants. I'm not in Rome anymore. I'm in Ridgewood, NJ. And I'm glad I have these remnants, cause while they are severely outnumbered by the numbers of odds and ends in my room and throughout my house, they help me realize that Rome was real. That Europe was real. The smells of NJ may be the same...the carpeting may feel the same...but I'm not the same...and these elements of my European adventures help me remember that. I've seen so many new things, and been to so many new places, and met so many people...and the list goes on. I mean, beyond that, the adventures DID happen. They're really not just in my imagination...

Sitting in the balls bar and watching MTV Italia's special on Queen explains why "Under Pressure" is on my mix...so when I hear it, it's not just a song...it's a flash back to sitting there, eating nutella covered balls of dough, while Brittany, Dan, Maggie, and Greg play euchre...and Becky and Becca have a not-so-discrete conversation on the telephones nearby, talking to each other from separate phones situated across the room from each other. Moments like that surge through my head constantly...

And it's so hard cause I want to help my friends and family here understand the moment and get the same kind of joy out of it (or whatever emotion it was), but it becomes clear quickly that they will never get it. These are moments in my head, shared with people who are now spread across the country...moments contained in a time capsule that is brimming over with other such memories from the fantasy world of our time abroad.

It's so nice to see people and get back to my life here...but it's so weird, too.

Like I was mentioning, my room feels the same...but then weird things will happen....like I'll find an old perfume that I forgot about, or an old card that I haven't read for years...and it's like I'm rediscovering my world in NJ, and who I was before Italy, again. Beyond that, when driving my car (which in itself feels weird), I found that I had forgotten how to ask for gas. Yes, in NJ self-serve is illegal...so everywhere the driver must ask a gas station attendant to "fill it up" or whatever the driver wants in terms of gas amounts. I pulled up to a tank the other day, and my mind blanked. What the hell do I say? I frantically searched my mind, and somehow came up with the appropratie words in a frantic sentence at the last min. It was so weird! Moments like that catch me off guard, and make me realize that as familiar as this world at home seems, I really have been away.

Also, in contrast to Italy, where I was viewed as foreign so people didn't expect me to understand, here I look and seem American...so if I forget how to ask for gas, that's weird. I no longer have excuses! Ha. However, about looking American-- I've been putting together new outfits, incorporating clothes and accessories I bought in Rome into my assemblages (is that even a word?)...and today I walked down the street wearing an outfit I would've worn comfortably in Rome. I wore a plain gray t-shirt, nice pinstriped capri pants, a funky necklace, aviators, and a floppy brown hat with a brim, with birkenstock-style sandals...Oh, and I held an artsy bag that is essentially a purple and blue striped sack that fits across my chest. As I approached a man walking his dog in my suburb of NYC, I swear I saw him move to the other side of the street...like I was weird-looking or threatening...or that I just didn't fit in.

It was so nice to get to NYC and feel like I wasn't looked at strangely. Although, that was another thing. NYC seems so casual now in comparison to ROME! And maybe that was just cause I was in the village, and it's maybe a tad less dressy there, than say, the Upper East Side...but still. It was interesting to come back after traveling, and feel confident and comfortable roaming the streets. I had a simple map printed off Google, but nothing beyond that...and had only briefly looked over a larger map before leaving...so I was essentially relying on myself to figure out where to go. And it was fine. And I loved it. And I realize how much I need that- the spice of adventure in my day...not knowing where I am, and having the opportunity to feel my way around...all the while seeing lots of interesting, different people. Ah!

And! I saw Jessie today, which was great. On my way to meet her, I noticed lots of railings and police officers lining 5th Avenue, and some posters with rainbow stripes on them. Putting two and two together, I figured out that today was the Pride Parade. YES! After a delish brunch at a place Jessie likes, we headed over to the parade...and boy, it was wonderful to see so many gay people. That's one thing Europe lacks- openly gay folk. This was WONDERFUL. So many couples...some with kids...some with dogs...some single...all ages. Ah! Coolness. And so many churches supporting gayness. Woo woo.

So. Anyway, I'm having lots of mixed emotions. Of course it's great to catch up with people and see everyone I've missed, but I'm realizing more and more how I've had this separate experience, and that's what it is- something that noone else in my life will ever completely understand...and that's weird to realize, but also cool. It's like a special part of my life that I can hold dear to myself. But it's hard...cause I want to tell stories, but I don't want to bore people...and so I find myself holding back, and only talking about stuff if people ask..but then if they don't, I feel annoyed...like they don't care...so it's a weird cycle. I haven't sat down and showed anyone my photos...and I almost don't want to do that, cause not only do I not want to subject anyone to the torture of sitting through SOOO many photos...but I don't want to acknowledge that these memories are now pictures with stories...that my adventures in Europe are over. It's so weird!

But I am looking forward (at some point) to showing some lucky people my photos...and getting prints...and making a scrapbook of everything I've collected (in my attempts to save money, I saved all sorts of tickets and such.. gloriousness).

Tomorrow I head back to Haverford for a summer with good pals, long runs through the nature trail, and a steady schedule of volunteering at the nursing home. I'm excited, but nervous that it'll be hard to get back in the groove with everything. I definitely feel different...and it's already becoming apparent as I spend time with my family and other friends around here, but will I manage to retain these differences back at the Ford? Will my friends be able to accept them? Will they get annoyed with me? So many thoughts surge through my head... but I'm glad I have to go back tomorrow now, because now I can deal with all of this now, and not in 2 months. Whew.

And honestly, I can't wait to spend time with people who I've known for so long...to just be able to sit back and slow my life down a bit...and have lots of long, relaxing conversations over good red wine (regardless of the fact that I am now underage again..ha!) It should be great...and I need to stop worrying!

Oh, Rome. I miss it so...and Europe. But it's not so bad that they are just memories...because, as corny as it sounds, the memories are ingrained in me...in the items strewn around my room, and in ME. Even as I worry about how I've changed and how people will accept/not accept that...and secretly wonder if I'll "revert back"...I know I won't. I have changed. I have grown...and nothing can ever take that away from me...cause these memories are real. And I'm sooo happy I went abroad...but it is also nice to be able to communicate with people easily...and to be taken care of again...and to have a car. Ah. The food may be better in Europe, but sometimes it is nice to come home.

So even as I sit here conflicted, I am grateful for my experiences, but I'm recognizing that life goes on...and I just gotta deal. Go with the flow! :D

Ciao pals.
Anna