Ho paura un po' (I'm a little scared)

It's been a month.  Certainly time for an update.  It has just been such a packed month, I find myself catching my breath only now.  I had a fantastic visit with the family, busy and adventurous (though no matter how cool we looked in our driving gloves and sunglasses all'italiana, I think we can all agree on the desire to leave the Alfa Romeo behind next time...or at least start out with more maps).  I think my parents and brothers have officially been converted to the magic of "antipasti" as meals - I'd say one of the best parts of the trip was just picking out 4 or 5 weird cured meats at the deli for the hungry masses, and then seeing which one each person liked the best.  I mean, this is Italy, we are not talking turkey breast here.  I know Al loved prosciutto crudo, Mom loved the salame from Tuscany, Josh was into speck, and Dad...well, human garbage disposal, I think he just dug all of them.

Then, only days after the fam returned stateside, I flew off to Paris for my first real visit to France.  Mamma mia, what a magical city.  I stayed with my friend Lauren, who is living this semester in a gorgeous apartment in the Marais (think Greenwich Village funky/hip vibe).  And after my body got over the initial shock of copious amounts of butter in my food (seriously, is it possible to eat that much butter and cheese?  Apparently yes, though I nearly went into pastry and quiche induced comas on numerous occasions.  Additionally, people really do buy baguettes on a daily basis, carry them under their arms with the morning paper, and eat them pretty much all day long), I fully fell in love with Paris.  In fact, more than anything, it made me miss New York - it seemed to just whet my appetite for the big city again, an international atmosphere where the metro always runs and there is always something new to discover.  Even better, the entire city was in bloom and the Parisians had not yet attacked every living plant with hedgeclippers (they seem to like their plants in the shape of boxes), so I pretty much felt like I was in some fairytale land all weekend.  Screw the Trevi Fountain, I should have left coins in the Tuileries pond - I MUST go back to Paris.

As for photos, Flickr has been giving me troubles, so here is a link to my facebook album of Paris pictures: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2225835&id=122324&l=756ce08d3a

So now I find myself back in Bologna with only one month to go, and I would be lying if I didn't say I am so excited to go home.  I love Italy, I love Europe, I love a lot of things about my life here.  You really don't expect the type of education you get, however, while living abroad.  Needless to say, I have learned that I am very American in a lot of ways, and I am ready to be American again.  Having said that, I am honestly afraid to leave.  In the grand scheme of things, 10 months is not a lot of time.  And yet I have officially been steeped in Italian culture and life, almost 24/7, for nearly a year, which in a way makes me less American than I used to be.

An example: coffee.  You might not consider this to be a big deal, but hear me out.  I love espresso with all of my heart, so much that I need to make sure I don't have more than 2 or 3 a day (no stomach aches, please).  In fact, I am planning on returning with an arsenal of espresso pots, cups, and "cucchiaini" (little spoons) because of my deep true love for caffè.  And yet, I still like American style coffee too - it's nice to enjoy it when I have the time to sit, like a cup of tea.  So what do I do next year at school?  Do I buy the American coffee pot and coffee grounds too?  Will I need to start buying double coffee?  Hell, I probably can't even afford that.  And isn't it so strange that Americans are so much more scheduled, on time, and workaholics than Italians, yet American coffee takes so much longer to drink?  You'd think the efficiency of espresso would actually be more desirable.  But back to the point - can I have my cake and eat it too?  And if even just coffee sends my head spinning into confusion (much less cultural analysis), who knows what's going to happen with regards to all the other lifestyle changes I'll have to go back to.

Coming here was not easy, but going back might be even harder.  I can't wait for America in so many ways...but I'm a bit scared of it too.