Senior Year Round Two

It's about time for senior year round two.

It's about time for the second senior year of my life. First was high school, and now it's time for college. It's strange because the first one doesn't seem that long ago, but I guess that four years is actually pretty close to being a fifth of my life so far, so when I put it that way I guess it has been a bit since then.

The thing about senior year round two is I think I know what to expect. I think. I know it'll be a year full of lasts...and ACTUAL lasts this time. The first time around, it was just my last high school band camp. This time, it'll be my last band camp ever. EVER. Every year since 2008 I've been out in the heat learning a marching show and getting ready for the fall. It's hard to believe this is it. The first time around it was my last first day of high school. This time, it may be my last first day of school ever (grad school is still being considered...we'll see). The list goes on and on of lasts that are coming up sooner than I'd like.

Senior year round two is also a little scary. At least with senior year round one I knew what was next. College. That came next. I still don't know for sure what comes after college and won't until at least next spring, and that's scary when I think about it too long. However, I do know this: whatever does come next will be great, and I'll do great. Wherever God sends me will turn out to be awesome, and I've just got to keep remembering that.

I've also got to remember not to get too sad because this fantastic four year journey of college is coming to an end. The cliche quote, "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened," will most likely become one of my mottoes of the school year. I've got to remember to take in every moment and enjoy it and not get too wrapped up in the fact that it's the last time.

I can't start crying uncontrollably the last time I step on Scott Field to march with the FMB. Sure, a few tears will be fine, but I've got to remember to look around and take it all in because who knows if and when I'll ever see a MSU football game from that perspective ever again. I can't start crying uncontrollably the last time I walk out of the classroom in Carpenter because one, all of the boys will stare, and that'll make me uncomfortable, and two, I've got to remember to look around and remember how impressive it is for me to make it through the classes required for a degree in engineering.

What a year it will be. I'm looking forward to it and dreading it all at the same time, but it'll come for me nonetheless. People really are right. You show up to college freshmen year, you blink, and then you're a senior.

It also doesn't help the situation that some people will look at me and assume I'm a senior in high school, because apparently it's just too hard to believe that I'm actually 21 years old. Funny stuff.

Anyways, I'll try to keep you updated on all of my senior year shenanigans. We kick it off with band camp at the beginning of August.

Until next time,

Mo

A Decade of Band

The end of this school year brought the end of my tenth year of being in band. Ten years of playing the wonderful little black stick I've fallen in love with, ten years of making music with so many of my closest friends, ten years of memories I'll never forget. 

I think we all have about five or so really important life decisions we make throughout our lives. They're the ones that start a domino effect of other great things. One of mine is definitely joining band. Who knew everything that one activity could offer me- numerous trips, life skills, and great friends just to name a few. Oh. And learning to play an instrument. That happened too. 

To commemorate my ten years of music making fun, I want to take you on a journey, my band journey. 

Rewind to spring 2006. I'm a little fifth grader, and it's the day of the band test. It's the day that the middle and high school band directors came to the elementary school and gave the fifth graders a basic music test to gauge our musical ability. A week or so later I get a letter, a letter that said I got to move on to the next stage- trying out the instruments. 

I can remember the moment clearly. We were in the cafeteria of Pleasant Hill Elementary School. The DeSoto Central High School band director held out a clarinet mouthpiece for me to blow on. If you've never blown on just a clarinet mouthpiece, imagine a really bad duck call, and that's what it sounds like. The clarinet was pretty high on my list. Two of my older cousins both played the clarinet, and they're cool people, and so being like them would be cool. 

I went through the rest of the stations and then wrote down my top three instrument choices: clarinet, percussion, and trumpet (I can't remember the order...but it was definitely those three).

They said I would play the clarinet.

Skip ahead to August 2006. Little Morgan sits in the DeSoto Central Middle School with her cousin's beginner clarinet ready to go. I played through Hot Cross Buns and Mary Had a Little Lamb probably a lot like a small squeaky toy, but I must have not been that bad because I didn't quit. 

The next fall I switched schools. I sat in the Lewisburg Middle/High school band hall with a smallish group of 7th and 8th graders that made up the middle school band. The rest of the 7th and 8th graders marched with the high school band since the school (and as a result the band) was still growing. I went from a section of at least twenty to four, but it was still lots of fun. It was a never-ending battle between the girl in second chair and myself to see who had the most stars each week (and therefore got to sit in first chair). Seventh grade band was fun, but I couldn't wait until the next year when I got to march with all of my new friends.

Fall of 2008 came around, and I experienced my first marching season on the field. It was so overwhelming. I had to learn how to use these things called dot books, and I had to figure out how to play and march at the same time, and I had to remember where I should go and when...so much going on. And then I had my friends that had already marched a year handling it like what looked like pros to me. I wanted to be good like them. 

That year's marching show was a Patriotic theme, and near the end the entire band formed an arc, placed their hands over their hearts, and sang the line, "o'er the land of the free, and the home of the..." We were told to use a blade hand (all fingers touching) so we would all be uniform. One day in the band hall my director popped in the DVD from one of our competitions. The menu screens for band DVDs always start with a short bit of different bands...and which bit is first...none other than a close up of me with my fingers spread very far apart. Talk about embarrassed. I've come a long way since my struggling hand and band days. 

That spring was my first spring to be in the high school concert band. I sat on third part and loved playing with the big kids. Fun stuff. 

The next fall I felt much more confident in my marching abilities. We won State Championships that year - the first time ever for any Lewisburg organization - and it was grand. What a grand experience. Winning a state championship is a great feeling. It's knowing that all of your hard work in the hot and cold through countless practices paid off. Great stuff. 

We went on to win state champs two more times while I was in high school and were the runner up the other year. Band was such a huge part of my high school experience. It taught me about music, people, and myself, and for a little teenage girl, those were important things to learn about. My band directors are wonderful people, and they encouraged me to be the best I can be- as both a player and a leader. It was in band that I discovered I really enjoy being in a leadership position. I learned about servant leadership and how some of the best leaders are those who are willing to work alongside those they lead. My best friend and I were the section leaders for our section of clarinets, and it was a joy to serve alongside her and help the clarinets have a great time and grow as players and people. Band taught me the importance and power of team work. It also kept me pretty fit. Our marching band did LOTS of workouts. In 2008 we did jumping jacks to Boom Boom Pow every day. Even to this day, when I hear that song my arms try to start moving.

Then it came time for me to start thinking about college. I had marched five years, a year extra than most. It had been a very hard-working five years, and I thought it was time I retired from marching. I had decided to just try out for MSU's wind ensemble and not March. Then the more I thought about it, and the more people talked about it, I decided maybe I should give college marching band a try. So sometime late in the school year (I think April) I called the band office, and the very nice sounding lady scheduled me an audition for May 16. That was quite late for FMB auditions. Most people audition starting in late January and into March.

I played my audition piece and scales for Dr. Aarhus and Dr. Taylor, and they must have liked me enough, because a few days later I got my acceptance letter for the FMB. I showed up on my first day at MSU, moved into my dorm, had lunch, said goodbye to my family, and headed to the band hall for the freshmen/transfer day of band camp. On that first day I made friends that I still have to this day. 

I made it through my first college band camp, and then right after I auditioned for the wind ensemble and made it! I was on cloud nine. I already knew the group was taking a trip to Italy the next spring. Exciting stuff!

After that school year I knew I made the right choice to do college band. I can't imagine my freshmen year without the FMB. I had never been to a MSU football game before, so it was so cool to experience it all with the band. Getting to go down on the field was great, and marching pregame, and just everything about game day. 

Also, Italy was FANTASTIC. Check out my blog post about the trip. 

I got hooked on the FMB and came back for another awesome year. That was the year of the magical MSU football season! I made even more friends, and I made so many wonderful memories. My junior year I was asked to be a squad leader for the clarinet section, and I gladly agreed! It was a great year, and I loved being able to get more involved in the FMB. I got more wonderful friendships, and life is just grand. 

I'm excited to head back to Starkville this fall and serve again as a clarinet squad leader alongside some other awesome people. It's going to be a great senior year! It's also hard to believe it'll be the last hoorah. It'll be a year full of lasts, and each one of them will be bittersweet. As hard as I know the many moments of senior year may turn out to be, I'm so glad a good number of them will involve band. I'm so glad I decided band was the thing for me in 6th grade. I'm glad I joined marching band. I'm glad I decided to keep marching in college. I'm just glad about band. I don't know what I'll do without it. I'll be looking for community bands every where I go, and if my kids one day decide band is for them too (fingers crossed), then I'll be such an awesome band mom.

What a great decade of music making, friend making, and memory making. What a great decade full of wonderful directors encouraging me to succeed. What a great decade of growing and and changing and what not. Hopefully there's another decade of music making in my future. 

Until next time

Mo

Design. Create. Explore.

Last Saturday I had the opportunity to see a dream come true.

On April 9, 2016, the inaugural Project ENspire happened, and it was everything I wanted it to be and more.

Project ENspire was a creation all my own. I came up with the idea, planned everything, got the volunteers together, did the advertising, everything.  Putting it all together was one of the most challenging yet rewarding things I've ever done.

I'm a part of the Montgomery Leadership Program. It's a three semester long program, and the last semester involves a capstone project. Every student teams up or works alone on a capstone project of their choosing. They come up with the idea and make it happen. Back in October we started with our capstone brainstorm papers. We had to come up with two ideas we could make into a project and write about them to turn in to our teacher. One of my ideas was a day of engineering fun for young girls. I wanted to bring them to MSU and give them hands-on activities that not only taught them engineering principles but also showed them that engineering can be fun.

I had all of these ideas for the day swirling around in my head, and I wanted everything to be just right. No other students were thinking of doing projects along the same line as mine, so I chose to go at it alone. I wanted every part of my dream to come true.

Now there were times when I wondered why I let myself do it alone. I had to get out of my comfort zone sometimes. I had to do a lot of work. I never realized just how much time and effort go into planning an event. It's exhausting. But it was fun. I enjoyed going through things and deciding what I would need for the day and covering every detail. I enjoyed getting to make decisions about things.

I enjoyed getting to come up with the three activities. I did some research and finally decided on popsicle stick towers, golf ball ziplines, and Coke bottle taxis. For the popsicle stick towers, each group had popsicle sticks, sticky tack, and tacky glue. They had to build a structure to hold their people (little glass pebbles) at least 4 inches in the air. The golf ball ziplines seemed to be the fan favorite. Each group had to use the materials provided to build a zipline for a plastic golfball. For the Coke bottle taxis, each group had to take a Coke bottle and make it into a balloon powered taxi with the materials provided. My first concern about the activities was, "what if we get to the day and the girls can't make anything work? What if all of my activities are duds?" Then I had the idea to test the activities. All of a sudden it seemed obvious. So I had engineering student volunteers come a few weeks before the big day and go through each activity as if they were a group of 4th and 5th grade girls. They had all of the same materials and restrictions. They went through the activities and gave suggestions as they went along. Give less of this material, more of that material. Change these regulations. Those testing sessions were really helpful, and because of them, all of the activities went smoothly on the actual day. Talk about avoiding a stressful situation. All of the activities used many materials the girls could find around their houses or easily get a hold of. I wanted to show them how easy it is to be creative every day. I had 13 4th and 5th grade girls, and they were divided into four groups. Each group had a MSU engineering student as a group leader. I had some awesome group leaders. They were so great with the girls, and I think they really enjoyed themselves. I had more awesome volunteers leading the activities and going over the lessons taught in each activity. I made a Book of ENspiration for each girl to take home, and in it was an explanation of the engineering principles used in each activity. The activity leaders did a great job at going through the book and explaining every activity to the girls.

It was really encouraging to walk around and hear the group leaders enforcing what the activity leaders just went over. For the zipline, we discussed friction and potential and kinetic energy, and I heard group leaders ask their girls questions like, "what here can you use that will cause the least amount of friction?" and "what kind of energy does the ball have when you hold it the top of the zipline?" It was even more encouraging to hear the girls answer the questions correctly.

We had lunch out on the Drill Field because it was a beautiful day outside. After they got done eating, some girls went out in the grass and started playing. Eventually all of the girls and volunteers were out playing games together, and as I looked out at it all, at everyone enjoying themselves, I had a great feeling of accomplishment. I did all of that. I made it happen.

My tagline for Project ENspire is Design. Create. Explore. I wanted the girls that came to see the wide world of creativity that many times leads to a career in engineering. As a female engineering student, it isn't uncommon at all for me to walk into a classroom of 70 people and be one of seven girls in the room. For me, it hasn't ever been super intimidating. I know I can hold my own with the boys. I know I'm just as smart and hard-working, if not more, than many of them. The reason I think there are so few female engineering students is because not enough girls have that mindset. Engineering is hard. It really is. Solving problems can be hard. Math and science can be hard. The problem is that so many girls look at engineering and science or math related things and say, “I can’t,” because it’s hard, and then they look around and see how few women do them and think, “and it’s okay because they can’t either.” And that goes for boys in female dominated professions. We aren’t doing our jobs well enough to push kids to break barriers and try to do the hard things. So that’s why I wanted to do Project ENspire. I wanted to show these girls that they CAN and not only that, but it’s fun. It’s fun to design, create, and explore.

And you know what? I think I did just that. Throughout the day I saw smiles. I saw that face full of pride and accomplishment when a zipline worked. I saw enthusiasm to make their ideas come to life. It gave me hope. It gave me hope that it really is possible to make young girls believe that they are smart, strong, and capable.

I stayed on my toes the entire day just waiting for something to go wrong, I kept waiting to discover one missed detail. But I never did. Sure, there were bumps and lessons learned, but they weren't major issues. They didn't ruin the day. Everything went as according to plan as I hoped, and it was one of the best feelings. I did it. I planned an entire day. I did have help along the way though. I can't forget that. My MLP teacher was great and always available to answer my questions. My friends were a great support system and offered advice and also just kept me sane. My friends also were so great about helping me out on the actual day. They all told me, "put me where you need me," and they did their jobs almost flawlessly. Some were there the entire day, and some came when the were free and helped where they could. I couldn't have done it at all without all of the extra help.

I walked around that day with a name tag that read, "Morgan Green, Director," and I felt at home. It was a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, experience, and I can't wait to do it again next year. But next year I won't be in MLP anymore and I won't have the budget that each MLP student receives from the program. I'll have to go out on my own and hopefully partner with the Bagley K-12 outreach and other organizations to make the 2nd Annual Project ENspire happen. But you know what? I'm ready for the challenge. It'll be fun. Crazy busy, but fun. I can't wait.

Until next time

Mo

P.S. You can see all of the pictures from Project ENspire here
P.P.S. You can see the Project ENspire website here 

Nobody Love...Tori Kelly like I do

DMy best friend loves Taylor Swift. Ever since we were in seventh grade she's been a super fan. I've always wanted to find my Taylor Swift, that singer that I could listen to day in and day out and still love him/her.

Last summer I found her. Tori. Kelly.

If you haven't heard of Tori Kelly or haven't heard any of her songs, I need to you to pause before you read anymore and go listen to these five songs:

-Unbreakable Smile
-Dear No One
-Confetti
-Hollow
-Something Beautiful

Bonus: Nobody Love

I'll wait for you to listen to those.











Wasn't that such a great experience? Yes. Yes it was.

I had tried to find my Taylor Swift before. I would find artists that I liked and listen to them frequently for a week or so, but then I would move on and be okay. I happened upon Tori by accident, and I still haven't moved on.

The iHeart Radio station has this thing called, "the Next Big Thing," a contest for up-and-coming artists. Tori won last year, and it was around this time that they played her song Nobody Love on the radio. I remember hearing it the first few times and being, "whatever," about it. But then one day I really sat and listened to it. I listened to the music and the lyrics, and when it got to the final part with those great chords that just make you want to jam out, I got to thinking, "you know, this is a great song." But I didn't do anything past that.

Then in early May I was watching the Billboard Awards on tv. Tori won the chance to play at the awards ceremony. There she was out on a stage in the middle of the crowd, just her and a guitar, and she played a gorgeous acoustic version of Nobody Love. I was in awe.

After that I looked up Tori Kelly and found her first album, Handmade Songs by Tori Kelly. I found out that handmade means actually handmade. Tori wrote the lyrics, wrote the music, recorded the songs, engineered the songs, and produced the songs all from her bedroom. What a boss. I listened to the CD and decided I liked Tori Kelly. She was cool.

I was driving home about a month later and remembered that Tori's new CD was in stores. I stopped by Target and bought the CD (yay for Target because I got the two bonus tracks). I popped the CD in my car and started listening. The first track is a short acoustic opener. Beautiful. Then the first full song came on, Unbreakable Smile. I distinctly remember what road I was driving down as I listened to it for the first time. I was jamming along, and then it got to these lyrics, "maybe one day I can sell out shows without taking off my clothes. God made me sexy, I don't care if only I know," and I let out a big, "YES!!" and jumped on the Tori Kelly train right then and there. From that moment she became my Taylor Swift.

I listened to that entire CD, and then I listened to it again. And again. And again. I'm pretty sure it was early August before I switched to other music in my car. It was always Tori Kelly for over a month. And really I only switched music because I didn't want to get sick of Tori. I could have kept going.

To this day, over seven months later, if you get in my car, at least 70% of the time Tori Kelly will be playing.

Not only does Tori Kelly have the voice of an angel, but she also believes in and chases after the King of all angels. Her twitter is full of Bible verse references. Her interviews mention her strong faith. One of her latest songs, Hollow, is about her relationship with God (check out this link here). Her lyrics are clean and friendly to ears of all ages. That's a great thing to hear in the world of today's music. So if you find your 13, 25, 40, or 60 year old daughter, wife, friend, etc, wants to listen to Tori Kelly, encourage it.

Whenever I've had a rough day, I always turn on Tori. I'll turn on Nobody Love, crank up the volume, and car dance like nobody's watching. It always makes me feel better.

Tori was featured in the February issue of Seventeen Magazine. They released two different covers, and I made it my mission to find them both. Luckily I found them both without much struggling. I took both covers and got artsy, and now I have these lovely wall decorations.

Seventeen Magazine covers

I've yet to see her in concert. She came close enough to me two times last semester, but I had unavoidable conflicts both times. Boo. She'll be close enough three more times this semester, but once again, unavoidable conflicts will cause issues (darn you school). But that's okay. Each time I miss out just makes the day I finally see Tori Kelly live even better.

Until that day I'll keep jamming in the car, during homework, and during many free moments of the day. Her music has yet to get old.

Until next time

Mo

P.S. If anyone wants to get me tickets to see Tori Kelly or even (gasp) meet her, I definitely would not be opposed.

Back in the Saddle

A conversation with a friend a week ago got me realizing I want to start blogging regularly again (I know it's been a while since that has happened).

Life has been busy. Junior year is full of so many things. School  Friends. Life. It's stressful, but it's fun too. 

I think one of the big things I have learned this year is to appreciate the moment. I'm more than halfway through college (that's a weird feeling. I feel like I just got here), so I'm about to start a lot of "last times." It's scary and sad and exciting to think about all at once. But as I told my best friend, you've got to stop thinking about it all coming to and end and just appreciate the moments as they come.

Stay tuned as I try to keep doing just that...and stay tuned as I attempt to blog regularly. We'll see how that goes. You know how life just happens. 

Until next time

Mo

Throwback Monday

I graduated from high school two years ago today. 

May 25, 2013.

Like, what?

Wasn't that just a few months ago? Didn't I start college a few weeks ago? No? Okay then. 

It's so weird to think I'm halfway done with an undergraduate degree, but I feel like I just got started. People don't lie when they say college can be four of the best years of your life, but they don't lie when they say it flies by either. 

I've learned a lot in college. I've learned lots of calculus. I've learned that Chickfila actually can get old. I've learned I hate ab day at the gym, but I love peanut butter with chocolate protein shake days at the gym. I've learned that things, people, and circumstances change, and I'm still learning to be okay with that. I've learned that sometimes you have to stay up until 7 AM to work on a project, but I've also learned it's much more bearable with your best friend sitting beside you. I've learned to never study in groups larger than five. I've learned that memory foam mattress toppers are the best. On a related note, I've learned I can get ready for class in 15 minutes. 

I've learned I never want to stop playing the clarinet. I've learned that Wednesdays in the Perry are the best, but you have to be methodical in your visit that day. I've learned that losing out on some sleep is worth it to just sit and talk with your best friends. I've learned that snow days at college are so much fun and that going out for a second time in one day at 8:00 at night is just as fun as the daytime. (Especially when you make a Mickey Mouse snowman).

I've learned that there are people out there who are just as big of nerds as me. I've learned there are people who share my passions for Star Wars, Disney, logic puzzles, and nerdy TV shows to name a few (and sometimes people share more than one!). I've learned that spontaneous trips to anywhere, whether it be elsewhere on campus or down the road to Sonic, are always a good idea. 

I've learned that Tuesdays at the Wesley are my favorite way to spend my Tuesdays. I've learned that not all random roommates turn out badly.  I've learned that sometimes you go four months without seeing your best friend, but that doesn't make you love her any less. I've learned that people who drive two and a half hours to be with you on your birthday are special people. I've learned that a lot of people in college still have no idea what they want to do with their lives. 

I've learned that I'm not the big fish in the pond of Lewisburg anymore. I've learned that Mississippi will always be home. I've learned that SEC football with the Famous Maroon Band is the best way to do SEC football. I've learned that when your friend calls you at 10:30 at night and asks if you want to dress up in fancy clothes and go to Walmart, you say yes and go put on a dress. I've learned that finals week is the worst. I've learned that August heat in Starkville is just as bad as August heat in Olive Branch. 

I've learned that sitting in your den with your dying cat, with the rest your family asleep, and telling your best friend of 16 years, with tears falling down your face, that if it was time for him to go, that was okay, is a sad moment of growing older. I've learned that watching him take his last breath the next day isn't easy, but it's a relief to know he's free of the pain. I've learned that parking far away from the door at Walmart or any big store is okay because I'm used to having to park way off from the door of my dorm. I've learned that confetti cannons are pretty awesome. I've learned that wearing polyester uniforms in the middle of the day in the August heat is less than enjoyable. 

I've learned that being sober at college is completely possible. I've learned that people just two years older than you can seem so much wiser. I've learned that seeing my spoiled-rotten-still-thinks-he's-a-puppy dog waiting on the porch as I drive down the driveway is one of the best parts about coming home. I've learned that your friend getting a puppy right before finals week is one of the best things ever. 

I've learned more about who I am and who the people are that I hold dear. I've learned some much needed whys to answer questions I've had about myself and others for years. I've learned that my best friends aren't perfect, but they're imperfectly wonderful in so many ways. I've learned that we're all fighting our own demons, and it's the people who stand up to fight them with us that are some of our biggest supporters. 

It's crazy how much college can open your eyes in two short years. It's crazy to think of how much more eye-opening these last two years will bring. 

Here's to many more great memories, to many more of life's teachable moments, to many more late nights, to many more Starbuck's visits, to much more cowbell ringing, and to whatever else life may throw my way. 

I may not be able to catch it, but I can take what I've got and put it back together. I'm an engineer. It's what I do. 

So if you're reading this and about to embark on a college adventure of your own, I wish you luck. I wish you learn as much as I have in two years. I wish you love it as much as I do. 

I graduated from high school two years ago today. 

However, the girl that walked across the stage that day isn't here anymore. 

And I'm okay with that. 

Until next time,

Mo

Of Pizza and Gelato

Seeing as exactly a year ago right now (May 18, 2014 9:30 PM) I was sitting in my friend’s family’s Starkville apartment, just having finished a game of poker with cheese-its and goldfish, now watching Star wars, waiting for the wee hours of the morning when we departed for Italy, I decided the best way to commemorate that was to finally put up a blog post about my trip to that marvelous country.

Cheese-it and goldfish poker

Warning: this is going to be a long one.  Really (but there's pictures!).

I’ve written a little here and a little there over the course of a year, so there’s that.  To finish it off tonight I will be using my bank of over 2,800 pictures to remember the exact chain of events and all of the great moments.

This post is mostly for me to type out all my fond memories of the trip so I can go back and read it in the future. Plus, who knows, you may find mild enjoyment out of reading Da Fam's adventures (Da Fam is what my group called ourselves. The six of us went everywhere together, and basically became a family over the course of 10 days).

Because here's the thing: I know how extremely fortunate I am to have been to Europe, not once, but three times all before I turned twenty. I know many people will never get the opportunity to leave this continent once, much less be like me with three trips already under my belt. I believe it's an amazing opportunity for people under twenty to go abroad. People always say that those late teenage years are so essential in forming who we are as people, and if there's one thing my trips have taught me it's this: traveling abroad, even outside of my home region in America, helps me to become less of a stereotypical ignorant Southern girl.

I love Mississippi. I absolutely adore it, and I'll always call it home. What I don't love is the rep Mississippians get. You know, the dumb-hillbilly-barefoot-overweight-alcoholic-worthless-to-society reputation. I'll be honest, we've got a few of those people. But doesn't every part of the world? But I'm getting off topic here and into some waters I don't want to explore yet on here.

Back to what I was saying, traveling has given me a greater appreciation for the world we live in. From England to New York to France to Germany to Washington D.C to Austria to Italy, I've seen a world outside of my own, and I've come to see how much I enjoy spending a few days in someone else's world. I enjoy seeing the different ways people live and yet the ways we all live the same.

I'm oh so thankful for the four wonderful groups that have allowed me the opportunity to learn so much in three short years.

So here's some Italy memories. Here's some first hand accounts of a Mississippi girl discovering the world and how diverse it is, and all the while gaining a greater appreciation for the place she calls home.

I typed out this first little bit on Tuesday, May 20, at 4:05 PM Italy time, which is 9:05 AM Central time. I was sitting on our charter bus somewhere between Milan and Padova. After flying into Milan that morning, we had had a tour of the local scala and then some free time to see the duormo, exchange money, and grab a bite to eat. Then it was on the bus and to Verona, the setting of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. I was enjoying a lovely jet-lag induced nap when this loud pop woke me up. The bus came to a stop on the side of the Italian highway where it was soon discovered we had suffered a blow-out. We sat on the side of the road for two hours before the tire was fixed and the bus was ready to go again. Sadly that took up the time we were going to spend in Verona, so we had to head on to Padova. But I did get this next little bit typed while we were stranded in the Italian countryside.

Stranded and Jet-Lagged

Our trip began Sunday when me and my two friends loaded up at home and drove to Starkville for our final rehearsal in the States. We then spent the remainder of the evening hanging out in our friend’s apartment, after a Walmart run of course, where we played cards and watched Star Wars. Except only one of us actually stayed up to finish the movie. We all basically ended up getting about 2.5-3 hours of sleep Sunday before we were up at 2:45 AM packing everything up so we could leave at 3:30 to head to the band hall. It was way too early for anyone to be functioning, but there we were at 4:00 AM on a charter bus ready to head to the Atlanta Airport.  Why so little sleep?  We wanted to try and deprive our bodies of sleep so that we would be ready to sleep on the long flight from New York to Milan.

It's a good thing we left the band hall earlier than planned, because right past the Alabama line the trailer carrying some instruments and luggage got a flat tire. And, you know, of course the spare tire had a flat as well. Luckily we could fit all of the things under the bus and we were back on our merry way to the metropolis of Atlanta.

We made it there no problem, and we only ended up with a couple of people having overweight luggage. I had myself a mini party when I saw my suitcase only weighed 37 pounds. I'm a terrible overpacker, so I was determined to pack as light as possible this time. Now I have so much room to buy things!

I also made it through security quite easily. With it being my tenth or so time to fly, I had figured out the quickest and easiest TSA preparation techniques. I made it through with just a simple pat down on my jeans because they had unusual zippers on the sides. Those were actually the friendliest TSA officers I've ever encountered. Props to you, Atlanta.

Then my adopted family for the trip (that's what my group of friends have been calling ourselves) had a nice over-priced airport lunch together before going to wait by our gate. And then Murphy's Law struck again. For those of you that don't know, Murphy's Law goes as follows: "anything that can go wrong will go wrong."

Our flight crew had just flown into Atlanta from some Caribbean island and had to go through customs before they could get on our plane. Of course that took approximately five years, making our flight take off 30 minutes later than planned. That put us in New York 30 minutes later than expected, and we only had had an hourish layover to begin with. So we landed in the JFK airport and the airplane people said, "if you're not on the international flight to Milan, please wait for those people to get off of the plane first."

And, you know, of course our departure gate was in the other terminal, and at the very end of the terminal at that. So we hopped on the shuttle bus to the other terminal and started power walking through the JFK airport. The first part of the group had gotten on the first shuttle, but I was on the second. So there we were, power walking through JFK trying to make it to gate 41. It was about 5:00, and our flight was scheduled to leave at 5:21.

There we were scurrying through the airport, with me calling out to my friends which direction to shift to pass people most efficiently. "Left!" I would say, or, "head right!" I play too much Mario Kart.

We had just made it to gate 35 when the lady came over the intercom, "last boarding call for Delta flight 418."

"GOOOOOO!!!!!"

"We have to make it on this plane!" I said as we struggled to make it those last six gates.

"I can't feel my calves!"

"Don't think about it! We have to keep going!"

Luckily our head band director had already had a chat with the Delta people, telling them that they must wait for us all to get on that darn plane. I mean, this was mostly their fault. They should have allowed the crew much more flexibility getting through customs...aka more time.

But we all made it on the plane, and that's what matters. Our seats were determined alphabetically within our group, and luckily I'm next to one of my good friends and member of Da Fam. So we had our two seats and were set for an 8 hour flight over the pond.

That's when he told me his newest dilemma. While on the flight to NYC, he was told that one of the trombones may or may not be on the flight. "So my trombone is literally Shrödinger's cat," he told me. Look up the cat if you didn't get that reference.

The flight went quite well minus some minor turbulence. Then came the dinner. Food in general on an airplane is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get. Go watch Forrest Gump if you didn't get that reference.

"Pasta or beef stroganoff?" The flight attendant asked the people a few rows in front of us. My usual system for determining which option I choose is to peek at the food of those in front of my and see which choice looks the most edible. Pasta was the winner. In addition to the pasta, I also got a nice salad with vegetables of questionable freshness, a cold roll in plastic wrap, three shrimp on a bed of lettuce of questionable freshness and a lemon, a nice packet of crackers, a lovely thing of cheese, and, to quote my friend, a brownie that "tasted like sadness."

The end.

And that's all I got typed that day and during the trip actually, so the rest is me looking back on the trip months later.

The pasta wasn't terrible, the roll was bearable, and the cheese was like the rainbow in the storm that is airplane food. When I saw my other friend wasn't going to eat her cheese, I quickly asked her for it, and me and my seat buddy split it. It went nicely with our crackers. I didn't dare touch the shrimp. First, I don't even like shrimp, but second, seafood on a plane doesn't sound like a good idea. No offense to airplane chefs around the world, but really? Could you make a less appetizing meal?

I made the comment about how sad it must be for these shrimp to live their little lives and end up in the trash can of some airplane, as other shrimp around the world ended up in the stomach of shrimp and caviar eaters. I mean, what the least noble of shrimply ways to die.

Anyways, as I said earlier, we got to Milan, stayed there a bit, then got the flat tire. Moving on.

Luggage claim selfie in Milan

We finally arrived in Padova, a pleasant Italian college town. It's not a large well-known city, but it's not small either. We had the chance to settle into our rooms before heading out to dinner- genuine Italian pizza!

Back in Mississippi, the directors had given us itineraries for the trip, and it had the menu listed for the dinners that were planned. They were listed in Italian, so my friend translated them on her phone and read them to those of us in the apartment.

The first night: "to the bitter end pizza with salad." The bitter end?

It turns out that that was a poor translation for "endless." However, we decided "to the bitter end" was much more fun to say.

Pizza is a wonderful thing, and whoever brought it to America is my favorite. But let me tell you, nothing beats real Italian pizza. Here's the thing though, I am literally the pickiest eater ever, so my choice of pizza is always and forever cheese. But goodness, margherita (cheese) pizza never got old.

In fact, one of my best friends is pretty much equally as picky, and at lunch as the rest of Da Fam would be adventurous, such as ordering various types of pasta or pizza with eight sections each with a different topping, we would both be perfectly happy with a margherita pizza and a coke.

I'm getting ahead of myself, but in Rome on the last day we were having lunch, and I told the waiter, "margherita pizza and a coke." "Lame," my fellow picky eater said to me. She had been wanting ravioli but hadn't found any she wanted. Each time something unusual in it would turn her away. "What's in the ravioli?" She asked the waiter. "Cheese and spinach." "I'll have a margherita pizza and a coke." "Lame." I said to her jokingly.

Here's the other thing: in Italian cafés/restaurants, when you say "pizza" they literally bring you an entire pizza. I learned to eat much more pizza than I usually do in one sitting.

But anyways, our first experience with Italian pizza was fantastic. And since it was endless, that meant they kept bringing out pizzas, and it was a different kind each time. One came out with various vegetables on it, and as fun as that looked, I was satisfied with taking artsy pictures of it.

The next day was our trip to Venice, and that was probably my most favorite day of the trip. Venice is so darn gorgeous and photogenic.

We rode the train to the edge of the city, and then we walked out of the station for our first glimpse of the city of canals. There really isn't a single road in the city. No cars, just canals and boats. There's little pedestrian streets, but that's it. You either travel by foot or by boat.

We walked to where we met a boat which took us around the city and docked near St. Marc's. We all stood there on the Venetian sidewalk as our tour guide said, "alright. I'm about to walk you to St. Marc's, but feel free to break off whenever you'd like. You've got the entire day to yourself. You can meet us tonight back at the train station if you'd like to know for sure how to get back, if not just make sure to make it back to the station before the last train leaves."

An entire day to ourselves?! That's one of the perks of traveling with a college group.

So Da Fam walked to St. Marc's, and we climbed its tower, and it's actually where Galileo first showed off his telescope to the leaders of Venice I later found out as I was going through my pictures.

We then decided that we wanted to just “get lost” in the city. We would just start waking, no destination in mind, no map, just walking through the city and finding what we find. That was literally the best way to spend our day and see Venice. I had the best time. So our to-do list for the day looked like this, in no particular order:

-shop
-eat lunch
-ride in a gondola
-meet the group back at the station
-get lost

And we did just that. We walked, and when we found a shop we liked, we stopped and looked around. When we got hungry, we walked until we found a restaurant. When we were ready for a gondola, we walked until we found one that would fit all six of us (which wasn't actually all that hard).

Da Fam's lunch in Venice

For anyone concerned: never fear, we weren’t going to literally get lost in Venice.  Many European cafés have wifi for their customers, so when we needed to pull up directions to the train station, we had a nice snack at a Venetian café and got directions.

We walked around Venice all day and only saw five other people from our group of 70ish.

The day included our first experience with Italian gelato, aka the best ice cream on the planet. Like my cheese pizza addiction, it's always straight to chocolate for me, and this stuff didn't disappoint. I snapped pictures of everyone as they took their first bite, and the pictures pretty much sum up how great the stuff was. We got our gelato and found a nice secluded area by the large canal and sat in the shade as we enjoyed the moment.

Another one of my favorite Italy moments happened in Venice, and unintentionally at that. We were walking through the streets of Venice when my friend said, "hey! Pretty scenic area for pictures!" Little did we know that our photographing the beautiful scenery would turn into a full out photoshoot. I had my mom's nice camera, and my friend would pose each person, and so now every member of Da Fam has great pictures of themselves in Italy. It was great because everyone participated, even the two guys. It was such a spontaneous moment and something none of us had ever done before, but it was definitely memorable and I'm sure one of everybody's favorite moments.

From our Venetian photoshoot

And, oh, the gondola ride. The gondola ride. So fantastic. The great thing about a group of six is that when split six ways, €80 isn't too much to pay for a once in a life time opportunity (that translates to about €13,30 a person, yes, I meant to put that comma. Europe uses commas and periods in their money opposite of where America does, and €13,30 translates to roughly $18.00).

After the gondola ride

We believed the gondolier when he said it fit six, but gondolas have this habit of leaning to the side and scaring tourists into thinking the whole thing is about to flip over and leave them swimming in the canal. The gondolier laughed each time it did it, as we would freak out, usually with small screams of fear. We eventually got used to it, but I was all prepared to go off on the man when my mother's nice camera got ruined.  Actually, had the worst happened, no matter what happened to me, that camera would have been above the water.  But we actually had nothing to worry about. Like many boats, gondolas lean around like that, but they're actually quite stable. I mean, if they dumped people in the canals left and right, I feel like less and less tourists would be all gung-ho about riding in them.

If I thought Venice from the streets was beautiful, then Venice from the canals is utterly the best thing ever. I got so many wonderful pictures that are pretty much like the ones I'm used to seeing in travel magazines and decorative picture frames. I know some will undoubtedly appear on the walls of my house in however many years. Why buy pictures of all the famous places when you've taken some yourself?

You know, just a Venetian canal.  No big deal.

I'll shut up about Venice now, but goodness was it fantastic.

That evening we met most of the group back at the train station. We had dinner to ourselves that night, so after arriving back in Padova, Da Fam went and found somewhere to eat. We went to this nice open-air square. In the middle were tons of tables, and we discovered that the restaurants bordering the square served the tables.

It turns out they were fancier than street cafés, and the food definitely showed that. We got the menu and of course the entire thing was in Italian. We discovered the entire square had wifi, so I sat there trying to translate each item, but google translate left us with questions. The waiter walked up and could obviously tell we were American. It seems as if all Europeans have this super power to be able to look at a person and know without a doubt that his or her home lies across the Atlantic Ocean. I don't know what sets it off first: the laid back fashion sense, the English which is definitely not British, or the overall air of confusion.

My friend joked that we needed something much like Life Alert: Europe Alert, "help, I'm American, and I don't understand." We referenced that many times throughout the trip.

Anyways, the waiter walks up and asks us, "translator?" Yes, please, was the obvious answer to that one.

So he went and got us a waitress that spoke English. She came up to the table, "Okay, what can I translate for you?"

"Um, all of it."

So we soon learned that the spaghetti I had been eyeing was actually spaghetti with caviar.

Uh, thanks, but no thanks.

Thank goodness for the translating waitress, because that's what I had been planning on ordering. I happily picked the safe option of pizza instead.

My picky friend got pizza with me, her sister got some pasta something or other, two members of the "adventure team" got salmon, but the adventurer of the night was the last member of Da Fam.

"I'll take the spaghetti."

"You know that has fish eggs, right?" Asked the waitress.

"Yeah. That's what I want."

His reasoning made sense.

1) it's Italy, why not
2) it's decently priced caviar, so why not try it?
3) it would probably just be noodles, red sauce, and caviar on top

So the food got there, and we all looked at our food with the, "here goes nothing," face. The pizza wins the award for the fanciest yet strangest pizza ever, but I survived. The pasta was deemed good, and they were satisfied with their salmon.

But the caviar spaghetti. Oh the caviar spaghetti.

He got his plate, and we all immediately noticed the lack of red sauce. He noticed the staunch coming from the dish. I got my camera ready to keep snapping as he took his first bite.

The pictures are great, in case you were wondering. His face was not as he held back puke.

The two other members of the adventure team took a bite of it, and they all three agreed it was not the best. I gladly steered clear. I guess we just don't have that palate for caviar. I'm sure the Italians like the stuff, and good for them.

The next day included a tour of Padova. Da Fam and another friend had lunch at a nice cafe, and we had an over-enthusiastic waiter. He heard our English and exclaimed, "England!"

We all laughed. "No, America!"

"BOSTON!" The man exclaimed.

We all laughed again and let the man think we were from Boston. There was no way he even knew what Mississippi was.

"Boston" natives enjoying lunch

That evening we took the short trip to Mirano, where we were to have our first concert. We were scheduled to have two concerts, and then the brass would play after mass in the basilica of St. Francis in Assisi (how cool!). Mirano was quite pleasant, and we got to visit this park thing that had fake castle ruins they had used for plays or something. We got some beautiful pictures of and with that.  Then we had a small bit of free time, and Da Fam went to get some gelato.

Da Fam in front of the "castle"

Then we had a lovely pasta dinner with free Pepsi (always a plus) before getting ready for the concert.

It was really cool because we were a part of an ongoing event that included lots of different groups coming to play for this festival in Mirano. The other cool part was the crowd we had of paying customers! Music of that sort is appreciated much more in Europe; people don't just go to concerts like that in America.

And boy did the Italians love us. Our tour guide had told us how we'd probably have to have an encore, and he was right. We gave like three or four encores. We were all having a great time as we saved The Stars and Stripes Forever for the first encore, and then played the end for another encore, and I think a part from another piece for another one. But we were all taken off-guard when for the final encore our director shouted, "Hail State!" and we played perhaps the most rusty version of MSU's fight song outside of when the freshmen play it for the first time, but the Italians didn't know the difference and applauded and cheered all the same.

The next morning brought our bus ride from Padova to Spoletto, a quaint little Italian town.  On the way we stopped in Florence.  It was a rainy day in Florence, and of course my rain jacket was packed away in my suitcase under the bus.  So there we all were, walking down the rainy streets of Florence in the drizzling rain.  As we were walking, we noticed street salesmen trying to get everyone to buy these umbrellas they had hanging on their arm.

First we got some free time to get lunch.  Afterwards we had to meet up with everyone.  So there we were, standing once again in the drizzling rain.  Da Fam decided we needed umbrellas.  On to the street salesmen!  So my friend (caviar dude) went and haggled with the salesmen and ended up getting two umbrellas for what some of our group paid for one.  One was red and the other was white.

Then one of us, I want to say it was me but I can’t remember, had the idea that we should get one more umbrella, a green one, and then we would have the Italian flag.  So my friend haggled for one more, we got it, went to open it, and found it was broken.  So the guy goes to give us another one, “No! It has to be green!” So the guy had to pull all of these other umbrellas off of his arm to get to the next green one.  I kind of feel bad, but then again I don’t, because we took an adorable picture.

#adorbs

Then it was on to the museum where Michelangelo’s David lives.  That statue was breath-taking.  The only bad thing was we didn’t get much time in the museum to begin with, and the tour guide never gave us anytime to explore on our own.  But whatevs.  I saw David.

Then, as we exited the museum, we noticed this magical transformation.  The rain had gone and the sun had come out, and with it the streets salesmen had done away with the umbrellas and were now selling watercolor (I’m guessing, I’m not really sure) paintings of Italian things.

Before we left Florence, the buses drove up to this high point of the city, and we got a spectacular view of Florence.  It was so great that our group undertook the task of getting a group picture.

Group picture over Florence

Then it was on to Spoletto! Spoletto is this precious little Italian town with cobblestone streets, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think you were walking through 18^th century Italy.  We stayed in a monastery during our time in Spoletto, and if you’re thinking what I thought at first, then you’re not really sure what that would be like.  It was not what I expected, it was more 20^th century and less 18^th century than I had anticipated, which is perfectly okay.  It was nuns that lived there, and they had multiple rooms which slept multiple people.  The rooms came in all shapes and sizes.  There were three of us in my room, and we had a bedroom with three beds, a kitchen, a bathroom, an additional bedroom that slept I think five, and even a cellar-like thing!  My friends, however, had a bedroom that slept three and a bathroom.

Our bedroom in the monastery

My bathroom was a five star amenity in comparison to what they had.  I actually had a shower; theirs was just a shower faucet on the wall by the sink.  I had luxuriously hot water; there’s was annoyingly cold.  We spent three nights there, and eventually they were coming to my room to shower.

Our bathroom in the monastery

The nuns were so nice.  They made breakfast for us each morning, and they of course had on their nun attire.  How precious.

Secret cellar

That first night in Spoletto we had dinner on our own.  The issue was that it was getting late, we had a group of 50ish people, and Spoletto isn’t that big to begin with, much less have restaurants that want to feed people after 9 o’clock at night.  Da Fam eventually found a place that would feed us, and better yet, they had wifi!  What a victory!

The next morning was free for us to explore Spoletto.  Da Fam ventured up to the high point of Spoletto where we got yet another fantastic view of Italy.  After that we hiked up the side of an Italian mountain.  I’m not even kidding.  There was a trail already there, so we walked it, me in moccasins and my best friend in a dress (and chacos, so that made things a little better).  It was one of those experiences that we didn’t expect to have on our trip to Italy.  Before going, I don’t think any of us would have thought, “I bet we’ll have some time to go along trails on the side of a mountain.”  It was yet another great and random experience that I’ll never forget, and to this day I haven’t found a picture to replace my Facebook profile picture that was taken that morning. 

From our morning hike

After that we traveled back down the mountain and into town to find some lunch.  We stopped at a pizza shop that sold pizza by the slice, so that was enjoyable.  Then we made a leisurely stroll back to the monastery.  We weren’t leaving for our next concert until later that day, and we had time to continue to enjoy Spoletto.  One little shop’s entrance intrigued us, so we stopped and went inside.  There I got another great life experience: I was the translator for the group in this shop.  The shop was run by two older Italian gentlemen, and they spoke little to no English.  Through hand motions, broken English, and the wonderful things that are cognates, I managed to tell these fellas that we were American musicians here on a trip (all the while keeping in mind not to share actual personal information).  I even got them to understand which instrument each of the six of us play!  It was so cool, and I know it’s one of those things our directors were hoping we would experience on our free time.  Communicating despite a language and cultural barrier, having to find a way to actually do it, that’s one of those life-changing and enriching experiences that happen when you go abroad.

Before finally heading back to the monastery, we paused outside the restaurant from the night before to see if their wifi reached to out in the street.  It did.  So those of us that didn’t feel guilty about it awkwardly stood outside this restaurant and used their wifi.  No shame.

Our wi-fi restaurant

Then it was on to our afternoon/evening visit to Bevagna!  To pronounce Bevagna properly, remember what sound gn makes in lasagna.  My friend figured this out and verified it with our tour guide.  The gn in Italian words is pronounced like stressed n in English.  It’s kind of like the ñ in Spanish words.  So there’s your lesson in Italian for the day.  I hope you had fun.

Bevagna was larger than Spoletto, but it still was that cobblestone-street-anything-but-the-21^st-century-feel.  We had a rehearsal in that evening’s concert venue: an open-air courtyard of what I think was either a hotel or apartments.  Either way, there were two or three stories of balconies.  That evening was the concert where we played some songs with the local band.  It’s a band of varied ages.  I’m not sure of the range, but there was one clarinet player that had been playing since I started in 2006, and he was probably three to four years younger than me.  The Italians were fun!  So we rehearsed, and then we had some free time until dinner.  Fun fact: we stored our concert black and instruments in their music building, and hanging on the wall was a banner with the Lion’s International logo on it.  Since it was in their music building, I want to assume it was from where the band marched in the Lion’s Parade back in 2001.  For those of you that don’t know, my second trip to Europe was with the Mississippi Lion’s All State Band, and we marched in the parade at the International Convention in Hamburg, Germany in July of 2013 (we won and became International Champions, by the way).  Five of the six members of Da Fam actually were a part of that band, so it was cool to find that banner.  After rehearsal, we had some free time until dinner.

Mississippi State and Italian clarinet players

Of course many of us in the group had to get some gelato.  Duh.  I once again got chocolate, and it was once again fantastic.  I continued my habit of getting it all over my face as I ate it.  Then we shopped, and I found a real cashmere sweater for €20, which was around $25-30 at the time, so talk about a deal.

Then we had dinner and the concert.  Once again there was a great crowd of supportive Italians, and once again we had a few encores.  It was so great!  And, once again, it was one of those once in a lifetime experiences that I’ll cherish forever.  Our program consisted of a few Italian songs.  We played an arrangement of Nessun Dorma, and oh goodness, did it sound beautiful in that open air courtyard.

Then we drove back to Spoletto and spend another night in the monastery.  The next morning we woke up and made the short drive to Assisi.  We got a guided tour through the city as we made our way to the basilica of St. Francis.  The city was larger than Bevagna, but still not terribly large.  The brass had to go on ahead of the woodwinds to get ready to play after mass.  The woodwinds went in the basilica with the rest of the public and sat in the pews during a real Catholic Mass, all in Italian.  If you thought staying awake in church was hard, imagine staying awake when they’re speaking a different language, plus just being generally tired from a trip abroad.  It didn’t mean for that to sound rude or disrespectful.  I’m just saying.  It was really cool though.  Afterwards the brass did a beautiful job playing, and the acoustics in the room were so great.

Then we had some free time in Assisi (free time is so great).  We had a good lunch, and while we were there, Da Fam had a fun experience with a co-ed bathroom.  It was two stalls and a sink area, but there wasn’t a designated sex for the room.  That was the only bathroom in the place.  So of course we had to take sink selfies together because when else are two guys and four girls going to be in a bathroom together and it’s totally allowed?

Bathroom selfie!

 Afterwards we walked and shopped.  I got my sister and I scarves made in the area, so that’s cool.  My friend got a real Italian leather wallet.  Oh.  My.  Goodness.  That store smelt fantastic.  That wallet smells fantastic.  It still does, almost a year later.  At school whenever I see him pull it out, if I don’t already insist, he’ll offer to let me smell it because he knows how much I enjoy it.

  We left Assisi to head to our evening destination, a vineyard where we were to be shown around and fed dinner.  Unfortunately it started to rain, so they couldn’t give us the tour or the outdoor dinner they had wanted, but plan B was equally as fun.  The vineyard is owned by this sweet older couple, and they cooked quite the dinner for us.  They used their own products, things like olive oil and seasoning, and it was really good!

In between courses, the rain cleared up, so some of us ventured outside to look around.  There were horses and ponies nearby, so Da Fam and some others walked down a path to go see them.  When we got down there, there was one horse up by the gate.  Another was farther off along with two ponies.  Naturally we wanted to pet the horse.  I got up there and said hello, and like magic the other horse walked up to the gate.  So I said hello to that one and petted them both.  Then like magic the ponies walked up to see me at the gate.  At that point I handed my camera to my friend and had my own Disney Princess moment with these horses and ponies.  They were so happy and sweet, and they loved me.  I backed away from the gate to let other people up, and all of a sudden one of the horses or ponies would lose interest.  But then I walked back up to the gate, and they walked back up there.  I think it eventually got where everyone else stopped trying to pet the horses and just sat back and watched me be a Disney Princess.  One of the ponies really loved me.  As we were walking away to go back inside, I turned around to find the little guy still standing at the gate, all alone, watching us walk away.  It made my heart melt, so I went back to give the little guy one last goodbye.  For 15ish minutes I was Snow White, and it was one of the highlights of the trip for me, for sure.

Me with three of my new friends

As we were leaving, the couple that owned the vineyard let us buy some of their products they had for sale.  I got a container of genuine Italian olive oil, and I think it’s a nice addition to the pizza crusts I make from scratch.  It was definitely worth the lost suitcase space and weight (that thing was heavy!).

That brought us to our last night in the monastery *tear*.  However, the next morning brought our journey to none other than the great city of Rome.  After a quick stop at the hotel to drop off our luggage, we got some free time for lunch before our tour.  That was the day of my friend’s adventure pizza (you know, the one with eight slices of eight different toppings).  I had a margherita pizza and a Coke.  It was great!  We ate at a table outside, and at some point during lunch we looked up and noticed we were sitting right next to a Lindt chocolate store.  What are the odds?  That store was pretty much heaven. 

Next began our tour of the Coliseum and some Ancient Roman ruins.  Our group was split into two tour groups, and my group got this adorable little Italian lady for our guide.  First stop: the Coliseum.  Standing in it brought one of those surreal feelings, a feeling that left me thinking, “there’s no way I’m standing here in the Coliseum.  This can’t be real.”  Yet it was.  Seeing world famous things tends to give you that feeling.  I had it looking at Big Ben and the Eiffel Tower.  It just doesn’t seem real.

The Coliseum.  Enough said.

Then we went across the street to a section of Roman ruins.  So.  Cool.  What’s neat about Rome is that they’re still discovering more ruins.  The section we toured is right in the middle of the modern hustle and bustle, it’s just blocked off and preserved.  Another cool thing about Europe is that so many things are just so old, and Rome is even older than anything else I’ve seen.  It’s neat to see how the ancient world and the modern world coexist.

That tour, however, seemed to go on forever.  After seeing the section of ruins, our little lady tour guide took us through the streets of Rome, talking to us through our ear pieces the entire time.  I think that lady could have walked all over Rome and never gotten tired.  Eventually my attention span and will to continue walking were very, very low, so I was more than thankful for the end of the tour and a small bit of free time before walking to dinner.  It was during this free time that I got a nice Italian silk tie for my little brother.  It was time for him to have a big boy tie.

The next day brought our last full day in Italy, but it was also our first full day in Rome.  It was a great day of adventures and an excellent ending to an excellent trip.  It began with a trip to the Vatican, which, fun fact, is not actually a part of Italy.  It’s its own separate country, so really we visited two countries on this trip.  We were reunited with our little lady tour guide from the previous day, and we went on our merry way into the Vatican and through their airport level security *sigh*.  The Vatican was pretty unbelievable.  It was all so ornate and beautifully done, and the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel was another one of those surreal moments.  That thing is huge.  It’s almost half a football field long, and the ceiling is covered in paintings.  There’s no free space to be found.  St. Peter’s Basilica was also stunning. 

So many seats!

Since the Vatican is its own separate country, it need its own military.  That responsibility lies with the Swiss Guard.  It’s comprised of unmarried, Catholic Swiss men between the ages of 19 and 30.  I’m not totally sure on the history of it and why they to this day must be Swiss.  I’m guessing just for the tradition of it, but I’m not sure, and I don’t mean to offend any Catholics with my ignorance of subject.  However, I am not ignorant in appreciation for their uniforms.  I don’t know if I enjoy the uniforms of the Swiss Guard or those of the Queen’s Guard from England more.  On one hand you’re thinking, “they look a tad ridiculous,” but on the other you’re thinking, “but they could take me down in the blink of an eye.”  It’s good stuff.

Swiss Guard

I highly suggest a visit to the Vatican to everyone, whether you’re Catholic or not.  One, it’s gorgeous, and two, it just really puts it into perspective of just how deep and rich of a past the Catholic faith has.  You also get to see just how big of a deal Rosary beads are.  The gift store in the Vatican had a section of the most ornate and beautiful Rosaries, some costing many, many euros.  You could pick out a Rosary and arrange for the Pope, or maybe it was just a Bishop or some important Catholic person (please forgive me for not knowing exactly how the titles work and all), bless it, and then they would send it to your hotel for you to have when you got back.  I can see how that’s pretty great.

The remainder of the day was ours to explore the city before meeting up for one last dinner.  Da Fam, plus one adopted member for the day, headed to find some lunch.  I had my last magherita pizza and a coke (this was the lunch where I was called “lame” for ordering it).  Then we started walking with no real plans except seeing the Trevi Fountain and maybe shopping along the best street of stores in Rome.

We started walking, and this antiquey looking bookstore caught our eyes, so we went inside to look around.  That place was so cool.  It became affectionately known as the “Hipster Bookstore.”  It had new books, old books, souvenirs, paintings, drawings, antiques, and even a little coffee shop/café thing.  I found an old copy of William Faulkner works in Italian, and it was so pretty and smelled like an old book, and it was fantastic.  One of my best friends is an English major, and William Faulkner is her favorite artist, so I knew I had just found the perfect birthday present for her.

Then we discovered probably my favorite part of that place: the old Italian Time magazines.  First off, it was cool because they all said Tempo instead of Time (I knew that meant time because the word is used in music as the word for the beat/pace of the music, or the time.  Boom.  Music helped me in real life outside of playing music).  Second off, there were hundreds of these magazines.  Third off, they had magazines from WWII.  Like, whoa.  Fourth off, THEY WERE FOR SALE.  But, unfortunately, when I found one from the heart of the war that I wanted, I asked the price to find out it was €30.  I looked at the magazine I held in my arms and thought, kind of heart broken, “that’s…that’s…a little much for a magazine…even though it’s…a…really…cool…magazine.”  So, I sadly put the magazine back, knowing we had so much more shopping to do, and as much as I wanted it, that was a lot to blow on something I couldn’t use often, like a new outfit.

So we said goodbye to the Hipster Bookstore and kept walking.  We stopped in this store, and we stopped in that store.  Side story: while in Assisi, I broke my $5 Aviator-look-alike-glasses that I dearly enjoyed.  For two days I had been facing the bright outdoors with nothing but my bare eyes, and it was getting old.  While in Venice, I learned that Ray Ban is an Italian company.  They’re this fancy-smancy sunglasses company if you didn’t already know.  So, as we were walking down the Roman streets, the idea of getting Ray Bans surfaced, but I was a little hesitant.  If I didn’t want to spend €30 on a magazine, how was I going to spend over €150 on a pair of sunglasses?!  But the more I thought about it, and the more Da Fam talked to me, the more it sounded like a good idea.  I would use sunglasses a lot, like every day a lot, and, how cool would it be to get real Italian Ray Bans?  Super cool.  So we walked in the sunglasses store, and the store clerk helped me find this really nice pair of Ray Ban Aviators, and I pretty much instantly fell in love.  Dang.  I was about to drop €150 on these things.  I mean, they’re literally fantastic, and even though as I walked out of the store I had that feeling of, “what did I just do…” they really have paid off, and my eyes really enjoy them. 

Then we continued to head to the Trevi Fountain, which was conveniently located near the good shopping street.  So we went in a few stores, including THE DISNEY STORE AHHH, and then made it to the Trevi Fountain.  Have you seen the Lizzie McGuire movie?  For all of you wonderful people that have, you know what the Trevi Fountain is, and so you know the teenage-girl-freak-out-moment we had.

Tossing a coin in the Trevi Fountain

Next we took a gelato break and I got, you guessed it, chocolate.  We sat in this little place, seven exhausted college students, trying to decide what to do next.  We wanted to relax and we wanted wifi.  Yes, I know “when in Rome!” so why weren’t we wanting to seize the last little bit we had left in Italy?  Because we were stupid tired.  “We could go back to the Hipster Bookstore.”  Now there was an idea.

So we went back to the Hipster Bookstore, and as I and two other friends oohed and ahhed over the old Time magazines, I decided I was actually going to buy one.  But, unfortunately, I decided it couldn’t be a WWII one.  It would have to be a cheaper one.  I finally found one that was published a year after the assassination of JFK.  The cover was a picture of Jackie Kennedy.  What a great find!  And for less than €30!

Just three history nerds enjoying the Hipster Bookstore

My friend, though, lucked out.  He found a magazine from the day before D-Day, and it was a lot cheaper than the other WWII magazines.  I’m jealous.

We continued to explore the Hipster Bookstore until it was time to meet back up with the group.  We had another great dinner, and a fabulous end to a fantastic trip.  We then went as a group to see the Trevi Fountain at night, and then it was to the bus and the hotel.

Da Fam with our trip long tour guide, Daniel

We were up early the next morning and headed to the airport to go home.  It was a pretty uneventful trip home.  I mean, besides my friend leaving her phone on the charter bus.  But hey, mistakes happen. 

After landing in Atlanta, we had a few hours drive back to Starkville.  We stopped in Birmingham for dinner and to drop off the people that lived near there.  That.  McDonald’s.  Was.  Amazing.

We made it safely back to Starkville, all in one piece, but all exhausted.

What a trip.

What an experience.

Let’s do it again sometime, okay?

Until next time,

Mo