My name is Elizabeth. You can call me Liz (sorry Mom). Most people do call me Liz, but I think I have more nicknames than anyone I know. I’m thinking about telling people to call me Elisabetta once I get to Milan. It sounds romantic and Italian and chic and I think it’s good luck—I mean George Clooney’s last girlfriend was Elisabetta Canalis and now she’s on “Dancing with the Stars.” These are all good omens.
Anyway, I’m a junior at Eckerd College studying political science, journalism, marine science and Italian. I know, just pick one section of your brain already right? I’m hoping to work them all in someday—and hopefully it won’t be making a documentary about politically-troubled, Italian speaking dolphins, like my brother always tells me.
I will be leaving for my semester in Milan in just two days and I’m already dreaming of shoes, wine, cappuccinos, vespas, and classical architecture and living out scenes from “Roman Holiday.” A girl can dream right?
The first thing you should know about me is that I like organization—and like is probably putting it mildly. I make daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly to-do lists (and I even put things that I’ve already done on them so I can cross them off and feel accomplished). I star, highlight and underline my plans in my planner and I never miss a deadline—hence why my future employers will love me (are you listening New York Times?). So you can imagine my surprise when I waltzed into the Italian Consulate on the Upper East Side in Manhattan for my visa and I was told I not only had “insufficient” paper work, but that I would be returning to the consulate two more times before I received my visa.
To make a very long story short, the Italian Consulate website basically resembles something run through freetranslation.com and, in typical Italian fashion as I am quickly learning, is not updated with the expediency you would except from a government outlet. However, I’d like to think this minor debacle has been a valuable lesson to my Type-A personality before my trip abroad; that no matter how prepared you think you are, things won’t always go as planned. And that’s okay! In fact, sometimes the outcome is better than anything you could have scribbled in your planner (like making a detour through Soho on my way home from my third visit to the consulate with Mom and buying a fabulous carry-all bag for my trip!).
It’s like the Italian song my Grandmother used to always sing to me, “Che sara, sara”—whatever will be, will be. I think my mantra for Milan will be “go with the flow.” Either that or “I’ll take one in every color” or “more vino per favore.” (Probably the latter—did I mention I had an unpaid internship this summer?)
So, in an effort to avoid my tradition of a night-before-flight packing fiasco, I’ve decided to start early. I’ll give you a rundown of my progress:
Monday: A quick inventory of my wardrobe and an impromptu closet cleanout (I guess I can finally part with my size 0 Delia’s jeans—that ship has sailed)
Tuesday: Spent 15 minutes admiring my vast shoe empire, then realized none of them were suitable for walking more than the few steps required to make a grand entrance, let alone miles on cobble stone streets. Off to the mall for comfortable shoes! I know, I never thought I’d say those words either.
Wednesday: Sifted through my closet in search of multi-purpose pieces and wardrobe basics.
Thursday: Attempted to piece as many outfits as I could with as few items as possible—I’m thinking some jewelry and scarves will be the key to this.
And today, well I think the image of me sitting in my suitcase sums it all up. Yep, 50 hours to take off and I’m sitting in my empty suitcase wondering “What would Kate Middleton do?” I’m going to try and channel the recessionista’s classic taste and her habit of recycling outfits. Don’t laugh, if you were taking off to live in the fashion capital of the world for 4 months you’d be praying to the royal gods- that-be too!
When my flight takes off Sunday evening, assuming I have masterfully packed my suitcase and carryon, I’m going to say a quick Hail Mary (yes Mom, I remember the words) and hope for the best. I know everything won’t work out according to plan, and I’m actually kind of looking forward to the curve balls—that and the cute Italian boys. I want to see and experience as many things as I can, travel to different countries, museums and monuments and eat all of the carbs I’d never eat at home!
Check out my blog right here every Friday for updates on my European adventure and for all of the fabulous pictures and embarrassing and hysterical stories that will inevitably follow me. I never said my European adventure would be as perfect as Audrey Hepburn’s in “Roman Holiday”—my life is more like the “Lizzie McGuire Movie” anyway.