Well hi there!

Hey everyone! Long time no see!

Ok, so I'm beginning work on my Senior Comp Project. That means that for the next 10 months I'll be working one-on-one with a professor as I write a book and then try to get it published. What does that mean for this blog? 

Well, starting from now, this blog will be where I reflect on the things that give me inspiration and also comment on the process of writing a book. I'm also planning on occasionally posting excerpts or chapters that are works in progress. I'll be happy to hear your comments and critiques on those! 

Next wednesday is my first meeting with my professor and after that I should have a concrete story idea to share with you! 

Until then, I hope you all have a marvelous weekend! 

- Rose 

A Girl Who Reads...

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by golly, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

~Rosemarie Urquico

ITALIA part 1: The Eternal City

Ok, so I know this blog post is a bit late...like three months late... Sorry about that.

Anywhoodle.  Here begins my recap of the amazing fall break I had in Italy. We'll start with Rome (a very good place to start).
Caitilin and I managed to buy pretty inexpensive round trip tickets for the trip through RyanAir, totaling around $240/person. Considering the fact that we bought them two weeks before D-day, we considered the cost pretty good. :) Although, the only way we kept the price down was by deciding to fly into a dinky little airport on the outskirts of Rome, backpack around for ten days, and then fly out of an equally dinky airport on the outskirts of Milan - fashion capital of the world...supposedly. more on that later.

The only reason we survived on the first day in Rome after the stressful RyanAir flight (see earlier blog) was because Jason Lapaglia, an old friend from my church at home, met us at the airport and brought us into the heart of the eternal city by way of one cramped bus and  an awesomely fun bumpy subway ride. Anyway, we got off the subway (laden down with +20lb backpacks), to be greeted by...
...
THIS.

Its a rather impressive view upon emerging from the crowded, dark underground of Italy's metro, to be immediately faced with the most amazing ancient memorial still standing (mostly) in one piece...and the walls of Saint Peters thank you for the other pieces.

We had lunch at an adorable little bistro, at which point I realized that getting my brain out of japanese and irish and back into spanish combined with rudimentary survival italian was going to be a lot harder (and more entertaining) than I had thought. By the way, the hardest part was the numbers on the prices for the sandwiches. The whole point-and-nod technique when ordering food seems to be universal.

After romping around in the Colosseum:

impressive, right?

we took group pictures (small group of two) next to this awesome mosaic that I do not remember from the last time I was here.

can you tell we're excited?

 Anyway, the mosaic is of a tiger, and even though we are covering half the mosaic and Caitlin looks like she has a saintly halo, its rather epic. each tile is about the size of your pinky nail...depending on how large or small your pinky nail is...  :D
Continuing on.
I had to resist the urge to quote Gladiator the entire time I was walking around. Especially when I found what we think is the Gate of Life.

 

Now, yes, Jason and his friends are walking out the Gate of Life, but its close enough. :D
My favorite picture from this day is actually the picture below; there is a cross in the Coliseum, set up by the soon to be beatified Pope John Paul the Great, and the image of life in the foreground of a picture of a monument to years and years of bloodshed and hate really touched me. And this is the picture that I'm thinking about submitting to the study abroad picture contest at Saint Marys.  

We also managed to make it to the Roman Forum that day, saw Caesar's tomb, and even found this gateway in the ground.

Jason thought that maybe it was a gateway to Narnia...

...
It wasn't.

Continuing on though, we finally found our hostel, the Ciao Bella, which had NO signs or anything for it, and we only found it because I made Caitlin ask the person in the store. :) It was fantastic (even with the eau de moth-ball), and - for future reference - was right across from the National History Museum,

Five minutes away from the Trevi Fountain,

And three blocks up from the Basilica of Saint Mary Major.

Not to mention the fact that ten minutes on the subway got us to the gates of Saint Peters. It was a rather perfect location, if you ask me.

We went to Trevi Fountain to eat gelato every night we were in Rome. We also went to the Vatican Museum, and I would go into detail about that except for the fact that I have over 800 pictures from the museum alone...so that might have to be a seperate blog post.

Oh, and we went to mass on Sunday morning at Saint Mary Major, and - thanks to Senora Lopez - i can still say the mass prayers in spanish!! So gracias for that!  <3 Really, that was the only way I survived; two hours in Rome and all the Spanish I had learned from Senora's class came rushing back. Now, that doesn't mean that i didn't still ask (make) Caitlin ask people for directions, but it meant that i could talk to random people who we passed, and knew that they at least understood half of what I was saying.

  And then, on the last day in Rome, we visited Saint Peters Basilica ('cause whats a trip to Rome without visiting Saint Petes?). Answer? not right. :D

 It was the PERFECT time of day for taking pictures of the square. It was around 10:00am, and the sun had JUST cleared the buildings around Saint Peters. To make a long story short, it was magnificent.

And the picture above shows the bells that went off as soon as we walked into the square. I had thought it was strange that we didn't have to go through metal detectors at the columns of the square, and that the jumbotron screens were up, but thought it was for something later on in the day because no one was there (and by no one, i mean under 500 people were in the square. aaaaaah, rome.)

We got inside Saint Peters (after going through metal detectors) and there was mass going on. We didn't think that was too unusual because it IS  a basilica after all, but then (as i was snapping away with my camera) caitlin said four words.
"Why are the swiss guards moving?"
Well, i'll tell you why.

The pope was saying mass.
I cried.

you have to understand, the last time I was in Saint Peters, it was right after my contacts had scratched the surface of my eyes *insert collective "ewww" here*, and so i couldn't see anything. I completely missed the pieta, the Sistine Chapel was a blur of vibrant colors, and i have always regretted the part of my Pilgrimage four years ago that I missed, and all because I fell asleep on the bus from Assisi to Rome.

Well not this time.
This time I got to see Pope Benedict XIV saying mass, and even received his blessing during the opening rites. I have video, but its pretty fuzzy, and would take too long to upload. I am so proud of and grateful for my little camera that could (thank you, Emily), because that little electronic trooper was zoomed in as far as it could go, and managed to focus up the entire length of Saint Peters to get a clear shot of the Pope.... a number of clear shots...and video.
Did i mention i cried?
It was like the perfect do-over for the eye debacle on  my last visit to the Eternal City.
And that was the day we left for Assisi.
It was the perfect blessing, and i hadn't even known it was coming.

So thats it for Rome, the city that never sleeps (or is that New York? ;) ) and next, we were on to Assisi, my Number 1 favorite city in the world.....
minus Japan.
'cause -  lets be honest - with me, that country deserves its own category, and corresponding favoritism meter. :)

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed the Rome blog, and the Assisi blog will be up soon. Let me know if you have any particular questions about things in Rome, places i visited, favorite pictures, etc, and I will do my best to answer them.

Ciao!

Yet ANOTHER rant blog. About....

Amazing Best Friends.

(psych!!)

Like this:

 

 (But not quite, because i've NEVER worn loose leather pants that still manage to be too tight (O.O), and I don't think that I've EVER seen Abigail in all white. 

....

but still.

I just want to say that I have THE. MOST. AMAZING. BEST. FRIENDS.

BAR NONE.

Seriously.

Some talk to me on skype for hours.

Some send me packages, 

Some come visit. 

Some don't.

and yes, some may even space out about my birthday...

But thats ok because I love them all.

And they all have one thing in common...

they keep me sane.

Its their job to make sure I don't make this facial expression when life gets me down:

 

Yes, THAT face. 

the slightly pissed, REALLY stressed, and just a tad constipated, and...HEY LOOK! A SWORD!!

...

 And they do their job very well. 

Thanks guys for being my (in)sane sanity break. 

I'm being serious now.

I wouldn't be able to make it through this (fun, but) grueling trip abroad without you. 

And I miss you like crazy.

But you knew that.

Praise God; I'll be seeing you all in two weeks and four days... plus or minus a few hours.

And no, I can't wait. 

Know that without you I would have spontaneously combusted by now.
And no, I won't be able to ever pay you back for all you do.

So let me say thank you from the bottom of my heart.
You make me one very lucky girl.

Daisuki desu.  ("I love you" for my non-japanese-obsessed friends... yes, I forgive you. )



<3

...thats just disturbing.

But hey, thats just us.

<382

 Ja, ne!!!

Midterms...

Face, meet Desk.
...
Like this:

Countdown of my sanity?
Sure. Here goes...
SEVEN weeks and five days in an amazingly gorgeous country.
SIX classes I am currently trying to juggle.
FIVE weeks and four days until I'm home for Christmas.
FOUR insane roomies who don't really have midterms...
THREE days until midterms are over, for better or worse.
TWO papers due tomorrow...
and ONE homesick student who can't bring herself to write more than the beginning paragraphs...

THAT is a recipe for losing your sanity altogether.

Ergo...
Two seasons of ANTM, 1.5 seasons of modern family, and starting at the beginning of smallville, and I'm still losing my mind.
Combine that with copious amounts of coffee , Jrock, and homesickness, and you've got one insane Irish-American in the emerald isle.

Seriously though. I've seen amazingly gorgeous things while I've been here, and I really am enjoying my trip...
But the truth of the matter is that I am missing people like crazy.
There are a lot of people who mean the world to me who I am experiencing the world without.

I can't wait for Christmas.

SO.
Every time Megavideo maxes out on me because I share an IP address with people, I make packing lists...
And (for once) actually manage to write a blog post, of course.

So here's Sunday...day of rest...and I'm going to spend my day writing papers and going to mass and then writing some more...
IF facebook, youtube, and Nigahiga don't conspire to be my downfall.

But yes, packing lists are being made, gifts are being purchased, and I've had my agenda for December 17th planned out (to the hour) for the past month...don't judge.

...p.s. Smallville rocks my socks.

And so do my insane family members (genetic and adopted) who are keeping me from being actually admitted to the loony bin. ;)

And when I get home, there will be serious glomp-tackles all around.
    Trust me.
       You'd better brace yourself.

I'm gonna hit the tarmac at O'Hare and freak. out. 

           Anywhoodle...

I have papers to write...unfortunately.
     Midterms. Yuck.
Unfortunately, they have to be written.
To quote Lex Luthor (a sign that I've watched too much smallville), "I believe the term is 'Cry Havoc and let slip the dogs of War'."

Those papers are going down.

I'll see you on the other side...hopefully with some sanity left...but i wouldn't bet on it.

Ja! <3

Ryan Air Flight 9432: this is NOT my happy face...

10.22.10

WARNING
This is completely a vent-blog.
About Ryan Air.
If that is in any way displeasing to you, feel free to skip to the next post.
I won't be offended, I promise. I might even laugh a little, and that will be so much more preferrable than my current mood...
Irritated, and wanting to hit something...like a wall.
...
OR just down espresso like its going out of style, and snarf down a chocolate muffin in under 2 seconds flat.
That works too.
    I've been checked for everything.
At every stastion.
    My contact solution that keeps my eyes from exploding got thrown away.
        My reliv lotion got trashed.
            And my toothpaste was tossed.
Toothpaste.
But Reliv that Caitlin said looked like cocaine in my individual bags, pepper spray, and a razor made it through.
...
SO
Lets explore this scenario, shall we?
    Due to Ryan Air's schitzophrenic tendencies with regards to rules and safety, I will now be a smooth-legged, flaky-elbowed, moldy-toothed, self-protected, bug-eyed crack addict during my stay in Italy.
Perfect.

    No, I do not understand how that works. But thank God that they didn't decide to terrorize me and actually weigh my backpack after a guy old enough to be my grandfather rifled through my underwear looking for more contraband toothpaste (and somehow missed the razor).  Because I'm fairly confident that it wouldn't have been under the weight limit.
     It's quite sad, actually. I was expecting them to weigh the backpack, and - in an attempt to decre3ase the (unknown) weight - I wore as many layers as I could stand. Two pairs of pants, and seven shirts later, and walking out onto the freezing tarmac at 6AM didn't bother me so much. Fancy that. All for naught, as that aspect of my carry-on was not contested. Figures.
    By the time they checked the size of my bulging backpack, I was so irritated that I shoved it into the bag-size-checker...thing using copious amoungs oof elbow grease, sheer determination and force of will, and a whole lot of help from a few beastly guardian Angels. Epic. Ask Caitlin though; the lady was a little disappointed that she didn't get to charge me another $60 for the bag being oversized.
     I needed a strong drink...
         Hence the double shot espresso. (gotcha)
    Although I did smile a bit, because only in Ireland would you be able to buy Guinness at a coffee shop.
    Sometimes I hate flying.
In any case, I will be in Italy in two hours and I can't wait. Hopefully once I'm on the ground, my horrific experience will be forgotten...even if I have to wipe it from my memory by force.
   By the way, the flight attendant just announced over intercom that smoking WAS prohibited, but if you wanted to smoke, you could buy cigarettes from the attendants, and THAT would be ok. I'm serious. I don't understand these people sometimes.
    *sigh*
Its much better now that I'm in motion.
   Although I haven't taken my Reliv yet today, and that makes me cranky. But hey, at least they let me take it with me, you know?
   My stress level is also decreased due to my unwinding via listening to Japanese music and Michael Bublè. Strange, but surprisingly effective.
   By the way, the sunrise over a sleeping Dublin is stunning. I'd take a pcture, but my camera is buried. Oops.
   And speaking of pictures, I'm going to guess that my total for the trip is going to come to around 1,300 pics. Just a guesstimation, you understand. Thank God for memory cards, laptops with SD slots, and extra batteries.
   I'll have to take a picture of Trevi fountain; four years ago, I tossed a coin over my left shoulder, and here I am again. Fancy that! :)
   First purchase upon arriving to Rome will be sunglasses for easier people-watching. Second purchase? A power converter for my laptop. Methinks I have a problem. Oh well, at least I'm happy with my current level of insanity.
   So, in the end, this wasnìt completely a rant-post, and for that I'm glad. I think the process of writing it down helps me calm down a bit...and maybe even laugh a little too, if I'm lucky.
   Here's to hoping that you managed to laugh a bit too. And if you are analyzing my insanity - as would be logical - just remember, you are friends with this...which basically means you are either laugning, shaking your head, or wishing you could be here in the empty plane seat next to me. Although, considering that we are friends, dear reader, chances are that its a combination of all three...
   I miss you too.
       And I'll say hi to Italy for you. :)
Wish me luck, ne?
   Grazie!

Much love -
   Me

So I know this is out of order, but...

I don't really care at this point.

We have to journal for our class with the SMC coordinator, and i really want to post what I wrote (which was hugely frustrating, by the way...)

Reflection on 10-9-10

Details:

   I woke up sick, and really wasn't looking forward to going on the tour. After being sick and bedridden for five days, the idea of walking around did not appeal to me. I took a shower, praying that I would be able to make it through the day...or even make it to the bus.
 I actually did make it to the bus. Deep breathing helps a lot. The rolling of the bus in motion, however, does not. Thankfully, the tour was worth it.
  My favorite part of the day was the Maynum Cemetery. Well...after lunch, anyway. (Which I did manage to keep down, thank God.) Anyway, Seamus, our tour guide, asked people if they knew their Irish surname, and I told him that my Irish name was O'Toole.
  He freaked out. There is no simpler way to describe it. It was as if his whole body quivered in excitement. He asked for my hand, and proceeded to vault over burial plots, pulling me with him.
      His best friend was an O'Toole.
  I will never forget the look of joy on his face as he told me the story of my family; the story of his best friend.
       I know where I come from.
          Someone else knows where I come from.


And somehow, I matter to someone I've only met once because bonds of history, and bonds of friendship last much longer than death. 

         

            I will never forget.