So today's my last day. I'm almost packed. I don't want to leave. On Thursday my host sister and friends threw a surprise party for me. I wanted to cry. Last night my host sister told me she would miss me so much. My little host brother tells me everyday that he wants me to stay. Next week they are having a carnival like thing with the whole town blocked off and filled with rides for it's patron saint (San Martino in Martina Franca). I'm going to miss it. I leave early tomorrow morning. Then never see these people again. Leaving sucks.
I looked back in my blog and on November 8th I wrote a blog post including a list of all the things I miss from America. Here we go with a list of things I'm going to miss when I go back to America:
1. My host sister. She is awesome. We talk everyday. We stay awake to talk to each other late at night. She is my best friend. We fight like sisters, but we love each other like sisters too. I am not kidding when I say I am literally going to die without her.
2. My host brother. Little Nichi. I am going to miss having a little little brother to play with. He is the awesomest 10 year old alive, and I want to put him in my suitcase and take him with me.
3. My entire host family. From my host parents who took me in as their own, treated me like family, and helped me through some hard stuff, my host aunt, uncle, and cousin who also treated me like family, cooked for me everyday, and drove me to school every morning. I am going to miss my big Italian family all living together in two countryside houses.
5. My friends. My awesome friends who threw me a surprise party. Who I go out with to do idiotic things every weekend. They are awesome. I want them all with me in America.
6. The other foreigners. We supported each other with our culture shock, freak outs, and difficulties in general the whole year. I'm really gonna miss our Martina support group when we are all in our own countries so far away again.
7. This is running the risk of turning into a list of just people I'll miss so for a change... Italian food. Tiramisu. Pasta. Caccioricotta (awesome cheese). Stracciatella (cheese). Italian ricotta and mozzarella. Italian bread. Macedonia (fruit salad, but better). Focaccia. Espressino Freddo. Gelato from Florien. Hot chocolate the consistency of pudding. Mmmmmm...
8. XO. Ok so I figured me and my friend spent enough time out of school sitting in this bar in the center of Martina. It has the best hot chocolate, latte macchiato, espressino freddo, and (according to Made') mini hamburgers in the world. Ok well maybe just Martina. But I practically lived here.
9. The Market. Every Wednesday people set up booths and sell hilarious stuff. Some of it's good. But mostly it's just a whole bunch of cheap sparkly shirts with nonsensical English on the front. That's why it's awesome.
10. Going out every Saturday night and seeing the entire town out all at once.
11. Being foreign. I can do whatever I want and people won’t judge me. Because I’m foreign.
12. Sparkly unflattering cartoon character shirts being socially acceptable. That’s right. Teenagers dress like kindergarteners here. It makes me feel better about leaving the house dressed like an idiot, because I’m not the only one (not that I wear sparkly unflattering cartoon shirts, only an awesome Kermit the frog playing a guitar shirt with a giant American flag on it, I’m awesome)
13. Doing things just because Italians do. Like walking around with coffee breath. Or eating your meat like a starving animal. If Italians do it, so can I.
14. Doing nothing at school. I basically spent an entire year in the computer room. Can’t do that in America.
15. Speaking English. No one understands me. I talk about whatever I want in front of anyone and no one gets offended. It’s awesome.
16. Walking to the city to meet my friends whenever I want. In America there is no city in which to meet friends.
17. Pretty much everything. One more time I’m gonna say Fede and friends… I don’t want to leave these people who have become so important in my life…. Like I always say to people here when they ask me what I’m going to do when I leave, I’m going to die. Not literally. But I’m going to feel like it.
So I guess this is the last post I make from Italy. I’ll post some more when I get home and then the last one will be around Christmas time when I reread letters me and my host family wrote. Goodbye second home….. I’ll be back soon.