Ciao!
Those of you who read my silliness with any frequency know I took an Italian history class this last semester (btw, for anyone who cares, the semester left my gpa as it was, happily). What I may or may not have said was that almost everyone in the class was taking it as preparation for a trip to Italy over the Winter Session. So I'm tracking blogs, notes on facebook and et cetera, of my classmates who have been to the Duomo, seen the Last Supper in person, bought shoes in Milan, had to navigate around protesters, and eaten a whole range amazing sounding food ... from the comfort of my quiet Montana apartment.
It's strangely like the sort of thrill you get from reading a good novel. I don't actually get to do any of that stuff, but reading about it is almost as good. And it's interesting to see what your classmates say about themselves in writing. Two girls in particular have said things which I would not have expected from them. At the moment, I'm glad to be sleeping in my own bed, but I have a feeling that come Monday when I'm trying to do close readings of Hamlet for my Winter Session class, Shakespeare, I'll be wishing for a crummy hotel bed.
It's strangely like the sort of thrill you get from reading a good novel. I don't actually get to do any of that stuff, but reading about it is almost as good. And it's interesting to see what your classmates say about themselves in writing. Two girls in particular have said things which I would not have expected from them. At the moment, I'm glad to be sleeping in my own bed, but I have a feeling that come Monday when I'm trying to do close readings of Hamlet for my Winter Session class, Shakespeare, I'll be wishing for a crummy hotel bed.