Monday, November 26, 2012

An Introduction

I’m jumping on the bandwagon. I’m going to another country, so common decency says I must write a blog so I can brag tell you all about my adventures through Europe. This is my first-ever attempt at keeping a blog. I thoroughly enjoy writing, so I hope I can update it regularly. But I make no promises. I do feel pressure (which I think is entirely of my own invention) to be a great writer because… I’m an English teacher, so I must be, right? Not quite. I have friends who write beautifully, whereas I write how I talk. I’ll send you to their blog if you’re looking for great pieces of prose. And so I’ll start.  

This blog starts as I say the first of many goodbyes.

I hate goodbyes. Or as I keep telling myself, goodbyes for now. I am very bad at them. So if I just disappear, sorry. It’s nothing personal. But I’ve likely saved you from waterworks. And I’m definitely coming back to visit, so I’ll see you soon.
On Saturdays, we wear purple.
I think what I’m most sad about leaving is Manhattan and the K-State family as a whole. I’m sure if I was a better writer, I could write an entire blog dedicated to everything wonderful about K-State and Manhattan, but I won’t. If you’re a part of it, you know. I don’t need to explain it to you. If you’ve never experienced it, I couldn’t do it justice. (I know because I tried.)
It took me a few months of living here to realize what an incredible place I was blessed enough to live in. I had no idea when I packed my bags and went to a school that I had sworn to hate, I would grow to love this incredible K-State family with all my heart. It makes me sad to think that, despite all the amazing places I want to live in the world, I may never live here again.
I’ve realized the best solution to this problem is to become fantastically rich and have at least two houses—one in Manhattan and one elsewhere. Being a teacher, my best hope is marrying rich. Ha. Or if you want to donate to my cause or have a house with me, let me know.
In spite of this reluctance to leaving the place I’ve called home for 3.5 years, I am ecstatic to start my European adventures. Before I can do that, I have to move “home.” I put it in quotes because I think home for me will really always be Kansas, and I’m going to Chicago, or to be more specific Grayslake, to live with my wonderful family until my departure on February 7th.

A quick itinerary of my coming months:
Dec 8 10:30 a.m. Graduation 
Dec 15 or 16: Move to Chicago
New Years in Kansas
Feb 1-3: International Teaching Convention at UNI
Feb 7: Leave for Paris (arrive the 8th)
Feb 16: Head to Italy
May 29: Return

I will be spending 9 days in Paris before heading to live with my host family in Italy. My “job” will be to teach them English. I don’t know exactly how this will work out, or what exactly I will do when I’m not working with them, but I supposed that’s the adventure.
            The family lives in a town called Turate, which is a Providence of Lake Como. (George Clooney lives there, and the Pope’s summerhouse is there; naturally, I’m going to become best friends with both of them.) From what Google Images has shown, it looks absolutely gorgeous. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of pictures when I get there.
Random Google Image of Lake Como
            My program ends about May 16th, and I’m not 100% sure what I’ll be doing before I return. I have several thoughts that revolve around places like London or Prague, but if you have any suggestions, let me know.

            I’m sure this blog will also feature the occasional book review or recommendation, not to mention any fantastical poetry, thoughtful quotes, and random Internet finds. I expect it to be a hodge-podge of amateur photography (because as a student once told me, "words with no picture are sssssssooooo boring") and stories of my adventures stitched together with literature I love.


        If you’re wondering where the title of the blog comes from, it’s from one of my favorite poems by E.E. Cummings, who, contrary to popular belief, never changed his name to e.e. It was his editor. He always wanted to be E.E though I suppose that’s neither here nor there.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                                      i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

          I have my own thoughts about this poem and reasons for choosing it as my title, but I’ll let you form your own opinions. Poetry is intensely personal. I find it most powerful when you let the words wash over you and uncover what the poem means to you. So I’ll leave you to it.