Most universities have started up their “spring” semester or will be by next Monday. On the other hand, you may go to a very unique college which gave you the option to start class on January 3rd and finish on January 24th right before the long semester begins. That’s right, you can take one or two 3 credit classes and finish in a short 3 weeks (if you’re brave). If you choose not to take classes then that just means you get an extra long break to stay home or move back to campus and do absolutely nothing but relax and occasionally work (like me). Whether you are taking classes during this time or are just hanging out it still sucks to be on campus in the middle of winter, especially in the ridiculous state we live in. Let me tell you why…
1.) I have all of this free time and have no…
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Let me first start out by saying that I do not know you since you are much younger than me but I realize we have quite a few mutual friends since you once attended my former high school. It has been brought to my attention that you think people should “get over” 9/11 because it’s been 13 years and that “they’re dead”. This is what I have to say to you: your profile on FB states that you started high school in 2014 which leads me to believe that you are in freshman standing and are around the age of 14/15. With that being said, you must’ve been a small infant when 9/11 occurred, which means you probably remember absolutely nothing. You don’t remember sitting in a classroom and receiving the news from your teacher, you don’t remember watching your parents stare at the television for hours on end, you don’t remember watching people cry, and I bet you don’t have any family members that were called into action that terrible day to save lives. You can apologize for what you have said but you cannot take back your hurtful words. You obviously have no idea how that day impacted our nation. You say that we should be worried about our troops that Obama sent over seas? Fun fact for you: our troops were first deployed after the attacks of September 11 and they were most definitely not first sent by Obama. I’m sorry you have such negative views and I hope you you can someday rethink some of your values. With all of the negative comments you are receiving on your wall, I do not feel sorry for you. Thousands of people died that day and the days after. Fathers, mothers, siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, best friends lives were taken by an act of terrorism on our country. I’m glad you’ve never had to experience something so devastating and traumatic but please leave your ignorance off Facebook.
Best friend. Boyfriend. Meanie Pants. Feeshy. (Insert profanity here). I called Nick A LOT of names over the past two months but I swear they were all out of love.
We started talking about this adventure almost a year ago, and last week was when it finally came to an end. Over the past 2+ months, I have learned many things. Not only about myself as a person, but myself as a person who is committed to someone else. Many people raised their eyebrows a year ago when we started talking about this so far in advance, “what if you guys don’t last?”; (1) thanks for your support. Yes, that is my sarcasm speaking, and (2) what if we do last? Obviously, we did last despite what some people thought. Not only did we last over this past school year, but also we successfully survived our journey together…although we had some rough patches at times.
Traveling with your best friend is an adventure, not only because you’re hopping from one country to another every other day but also because you learn so much about each other on the way.
What I Learned:
Patience: Yeah, maybe my patience isn’t exactly where it should be (not even close), but it has definitely improved over the past couple months. Before this trip, I had absolutely ZERO patience. I could hold no horses whatsoever. Now, after being forced to hold those horses and take a deep breath (thanks to Nick), I have learned that it’s a lot less stressful when I’m not freaking out about something. Not everything is going to go my way and that’s just something I have to deal with…eventually.
How to plan: I am the definition of a control freak and nothing bothers me more when something doesn’t go my way (see above). This time, there was another person there doing the planning along my side so I had to quickly adjust to working with another person to make sure things ran smoothly. Procrastination often drove our “planning” into the ground, and after being stuck in France for the lack thereof planning, we learned our lesson. It took us a few times to get everything together for each trip but it was well worth the time, effort, and money. I have absolutely no idea how travel agents do this, there are so many minor details that needed to be worked out *sigh*.
How to budget money: Budgeting has not always been my strongest area and I quickly learned that I needed to work on that area unless I wanted to go into debt. I was doing fine: booking flights/hotels/train rides that were all reliable but cheap, and not buying a lot of souvenirs or expensive meals. Since Nick and I aren’t married, we don’t share a bank account so I was doing this all on my own. THEN, about two weeks before our trip ended, I lost my credit card. I had gotten a special Chase account so that I wouldn’t be charged international transaction fees which worked great until I didn’t have that anymore or a debit card to use. This is where Nick came in. He agreed to take care of everything else that had to be taken care of (with me paying him back of course). Unfortunately, since this was no longer my money I was spending, I became obsessed with making sure that we weren’t spending a lot since it wasn’t mine. This was quite the adventure and we were able to work through everything together *high-five*.
How to open up: Nick and I have always been particularly close since we go to school together but we were able to become even closer on this trip (awhhhh). Although we were with other people the first few weeks, I still didn’t have any of my close friends to rant to or take a shopping break with. I felt even worse when we were on our own and all I had was Nick. Don’t get me wrong, he is the best but there comes a time when a girl needs her girlfriends. Of course, I couldn’t keep anything bottled up when something was wrong so Nick learned how to be a “girlfriend”/great listener while I learned that it’s okay to let everything out to him. After all, he is my boyfriend.
How to live: It’s one thing to be on your own and be under the impression that you are truly living but it’s another thing to be with someone else who shows you how to live. I never thought the day would come when I met someone who wanted to push life’s limits just as much as I did. Nick and I went on so many adventures and we did things that I probably wouldn’t have done on my own. He pushed me. I pushed him. In turn, we discovered this amazing force that drove us both into the fast lane. It was truly a great feeling.
So if you are thinking about traveling with your significant other but have doubts, remember this: all of your “kinks” don’t need to be worked out to go somewhere. Traveling can help a relationship grow stronger and it truly shows whether or not that person is in your life to stay or go. Personally, I would love for Nick to stick around, he is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I thank God for him everyday. Love you, Feeshy.
Home: [hohm]- adjective: a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household.
For some reason I thought I would actually find a decent definition for this. Yeah, I realize this is the practical definition of a home but this doesn’t even cover the smallest ounce of what it truly means. I have made numerous comments about how I don’t feel like I have a permanent home since I am somewhat of a wanderer and never truly want to settle in one place.
Although, today, I had a different feeling.
Today, my Aunt is selling my childhood home. This is the same house that my mother and uncle grew up in with my grandfather, their footprints outlined in concrete in the driveway. This is the house where my father got down on one knee in the kitchen and asked my mom to marry him. This is the house where my parents brought me and my brother home from the hospital, where I hid dozens of binkies, where I got (and then gave away) my first puppy, where I picked rotten apples from our tree, and where I built numerous snow forts in the back yard with my brother. This is the house that embodies the early years of my childhood and today, it leaves our family. Today, I am sad.
We moved out of that house when I was in fifth grade (~7 years ago) and I was delighted that my aunt was buying it because I knew one day that I would want to buy it and raise my family there. After graduating high school, I realized that this was not something I wanted anymore but I was still glad to see that part of our family was still in the house. I knew that I would never want to move back to my small town but I never knew how saddened I would be to actually see it leave our family. It’s not a big house, it’s color has changed a few times, it doesn’t sit on a huge piece of land but it holds a lot of memories and that’s what matters to me.
I am halfway around the world and now I won’t ever be able to walk into that house and feel the same familiarity that I once felt as a child. It was truly more than a home and I am so fortunate to have created so many memories there.
One of my favorite memories is with my dad and my brother. All three of our rooms were right next to each other in the same small hallway and right before bed, my dad would turn off all the lights and hide in one of the rooms. Me and my brother would spin around a couple times at the end of the hall and slowly creep down waiting for my dad to pop out. Our arms would be locked with one another and the softest giggles would come from our mouths (as if dad didn’t know we were coming anyways). My dad would pop out every single time and make a loud noise sending my brother and I in the opposite direction with a mixture of screams and giggles coming out of our mouths. I love that memory…so much.
As I said before, it’s the memories that matter most which is why this is going to be okay. A new family will move in and I only hope that they create as many great memories as I did. Okay, I’m done with being nostalgic.
I once saw a set of trees
That didn’t grow quite straight
And nearby on the ground
I saw a lonesome grave
It was one that of a patron saint
One that had no name
And he had been there far too long
Lonely in his grave
A man who lived by these trees
Told a quite old tale
A tale that said the trees were there
To grow high into the air
They were fertilized by love
Coming from the saint
It made them grow strong and large
Oh! They beauty they did paint
The trees they felt this love
Coming from his grave
And to get closer to it,
They refused to grow straight
For years and years
They grew and grew
High above the ground
Growing towards his grave
To turn the love around
*Slightly bent trees that inspired my post: Brugge, Belgium