It's the FINAL COUNTDOWN!

Dooo doo doo do. Do do do do dooo. Do do do doo. Do do doo do doo…                                     (the song...)

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am officially done with my finals.

I’d like to say that my exams were exhausting and nerve-racking and that I slaved over my books for days reading every single note, but let’s face it: it’s pass/fail.

My exams are taken, my bags are (almost) ready to explode, and my souvenirs are bought. Currently, there is a huge pile of discarded clothes, books, bags, shoes, and used notebooks at the end of the hall, all ready to be given away to Roman refugees. I imagine Iranian refugees will be pleased to wear worn-out Charlotte Rouse pumps while reading about the architectural structure of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva. I myself donated a pair of socks and a pair of slightly ripped underwear. Don’t worry, Mom, I plan on throwing most of my other crappy underwear out as I go. The Blaneys don’t bring underwear home from trips. We prefer to scatter them out throughout the world. Why, I have left my panties from South Dakota to Boston to New York to Dublin and soon to be Rome!

In other news, I am SO excited that my grandpa will be here in less than 36 hours! Eugene Kolb is making the trek out here to my corner of the world and together, we’ll see monuments, churches, and some wine. Really, I’m very happy he’s coming! I have my tour guide act down pat.

It’s unbelievably weird to think that I won’t be living in Rome soon. My friends who are going home Thursday are in disbelief that they will be home for the weekend… Kate sent me an e-mail with “T minus 10 days” as the subject line and I legitimately thought it was a mistake. To think that I’ll be leaving this place is incomprehensible.

For example, today I went shopping down Via del Corso, a trendy area of Roma full of great stores. We bused down, passing the Vatican and going over the Tiber. To get to the stores we wanted, we happened to pass the Pantheon and were a few blocks from the Trevi. On one intersection, there’s St. Maria del Popolo on one end, the Spanish Steps on another, the Vittorio Emanuele Monument on the another, and the Tiber behind you. This is just a typical day, by the way. How can I go back to Wisconsin? I love Wisco and it’s my home, but I’m leaving a part of me behind, and I’m not talking about the ripped undies and socks.

Because I can’t leave my blog w/ the last words undies and socks, here’s a quote I found from my new favorite movie:

Joe Bradley: Tell you what. Why don't we do all those things, together? 
Princess Ann: But don't you have to work? 
Joe Bradley: Work? No. Today's gonna be a holiday. 

 

No regrets.

Well, here we are: I have exactly 19 days left in the beautiful city of Rome. In some ways, 19 days seems like a blink of an eye. I still have papers to do, exams to take and bags to pack, not to mention some last minute souvenir shopping! I can’t handle thinking of saying good-bye to the friends I’ve made here, but it’s comforting to know that they are just a short train ride away in Chicago. It’s weird, but I feel like I have made some of my best friends here, but at the same time I can’t wait to see my MU and Geebs family.

So much has changed since I’ve been here. I am no longer intimidated by large hills or pushy Italian men. I can kick almost anyone’s ass at foosball. Airports are no longer thrilling and I’ve officially traveled by train! Yes, everyone here couldn’t believe I had never been on a train before… But I’ve also learned a lot about myself. I learned I never want to live in a big city because I miss nature so much and the noise is finally getting to me. I’ve also learned that it’s better to not be in cliques and just have some really good friends. Drinking to get drunk is not cool here and is considered really low-class. Most importantly, I learned that it’s okay to be myself.

I had so many expectations when I first got here. I had my little list of things I wanted to do and places I wanted to go and people I wanted to meet up with. People had told me “You HAVE to go here” and “Promise me you’ll go here, it’s the most amazing place I’ve ever been!” and I put so much pressure on myself to go everywhere just to please those people. Of course, I didn’t make it everywhere I wanted to go, and currently my biggest fear is that I’ll get home and the first thing people will say is, “did you go here?” or “did you see this?” and I’ll feel like I’ve failed them. Right now, I’m concentrating on not having any regrets. I did and saw and met everyone I could. I didn’t get everything checked off my list, but Europe’s not going anywhere.

So please, may I ask you all one thing? Please don’t ask if I made it to a certain place. I’m sure I’ll tell you all about the places I went to a point where you’ll get sick of hearing about it.

No regrets,

Erin

Is God most present in a church?

Is God most present within the Church?

This has been a question I have been thinking about for a while. It’s easy to say yes right off the bat. I mean, churches are designed to make you feel closer to God. That’s why they are covered with paintings of saints and the ceiling is often a starry night sky. Above the altar is the painting of Jesus Christ on the cross as a visual representation of how Jesus bridges the gap between heaven and earth.

But I don’t mean the physical church, the church we go to on Sundays. No, I’m talking about the Church, with a capital C. I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that the Church is the one true path to finding God. Who am I to say that He cannot be found in a mosque or temple or in nature? By saying that we can only be saved if we join and follow the teachings of the Church is to demean thousands of years of religious beliefs of billions of people.

I have, to date, seen 32 churches since I have come to Rome. This includes St. Paul Outside the Wall, San Marco’s in Venice, and St. Peter’s Basilica. I’ve seen the Sistine Chapel and have marveled at the Last Judgment. I’ve been moved by the beauty of the Pietá. I’ve seen the pope 4 times, including at Easter morning mass and the Stations of the Cross at the Coliseum!

But never have I ever found God as clearly as I did that one day in Tunisia. When I was in the desert, I could actually feel Him. I saw how the sand dunes changed within 30 minutes just by the wind. I saw the sun melt away. I felt Him wash away all my remaining sadness over losing friends, both physically and emotionally. I would draw my struggles in the sand with my finger and God would erase them with His might. Now I’m a good little Catholic. I’ve done all my sacraments and I go to church, but never have I felt as forgiven and free than when I carved “ME” in the sand and watch it turn clean again.

“ME” has a double meaning. It stands for Melissa and Emily, who I lost in high school in a car accident. I’ve carried that heartache with me for 5 years. We weren’t super close, but I lost a lot that night. I lost my sense of indestructibility, my sense of fearlessness, and my naiveté. After that night, I have been more cautious and only recently have I been able to regain some of that fearlessness.

The other meaning is more obvious: me. I am not proud of a lot of things I’ve done in my life. I’ve hurt people, I’ve lied, and I’ve sinned. By writing “ME” in the sand, I was giving God everything I had. It’s easy to offer up your talents but I gave Him my imperfections, my sins, and my shortcomings. “This is me,” I said. “I’m a sinner, but I’m trying. I’m trying to be better.” And God took me as I am.

Now tell me God is only in a Church.

Oh, Ciao Dublin!!!

If I could live anywhere in the world, it would be Dublin.



After we went when I was in 7th grade, I was ready to leave. People drank and swore and were out at pubs until 3 a.m., in comparison to the small little towns we had just visited.



But now I love it. Why? Because they drink and swear and are out at pubs until 3 a.m.



I went to Dublin, or Dublino (in Italian), a week ago and had a blast. We had the cab ride from hell to get to the Rome airport Ciampino so we were more than ready for a change of pace... And we sure got one. We were welcomed into Dublin with the nicest security people ever who asked my friend Alana and I what part of Ireland we were from. When I told him I really didn't know, he told me I was fron Donnegal. Hmmm... Our cabbie was awesome: he was built and swore and told us where to go and what to eat. Our hostel was small, but we had our own bathroom, so what did we care?



After we checked in around midnight thursday, we went out to get food. Oh, my god. It was the first time in 3 months I had a chicken sandwich with mayo. To quote the Bible, it was good. We went back and crashed at 1:30 and the next day we got up at the crack of 9.



Because the weather was kind of crappy, we decided to do one of those really cheesey bus tours where you can jump on and off at tourist sites. We got on at St. Stephen's Green, a 5 minute walk from our hostel and my favorite place in Dublin and our first stop we got off at was Kilmainham Gaol. I could bore you with some facts about the jail, but instead, if you want to learn more, here's the link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kilmainham_Gaol. It was really interesting (and cheap!). I'm not going to lie, the four of us got a big kick out of the fact that today the Gaol has a tea room....



We got back on our bus and jumped off at Ha-Penny Bridge, where we had lunch at Ha-Penny Bridge Inn. So good.



Having decided that it was a more acceptable time to start drinking, we jumped back on and headed to the Guinness Factory!!! Being the girls we are, we started with the gift shop, where I bought a t-shirt. While the factory, which is the shape of a pint glass, was impressive and huge, our tickets for sure paid for our "free" pint at the top in the Zero Gravity Bar.

By this time, it was time for dinner, so we headed to Temple Bar, the trendy area of Dublin. We agreed on a pub called Oliver St. James Gogartys. I'd like to take this opportunity to say how much I love the girls I traveled with. No drama. No pety arguments. Three hour long dinner.

It was close to 11 when we left and we went back to the hostel. We were tired, okay?! We couldn't bring ourselved to actually go to bed that early, so we went down to the common room and just talked until 1:30.

We got up at the crack of nine again and decided we did enough touristy stuff the day before, so we spent the morning shopping on Grafton Street. We wound up by Trinity College and looked at a pub for lunch called Blarney Inn. It was too expensive so we found a good fish and chips place. Yes, family, I ate fish. Turns out it's good if it's deep fried! We did some more shopping and headed to a dessert place called "Queen of Tarts." Promise me if you ever go to Dublin you will go there. I don' know if it was because I hadn't had a good dessert in 3 months or it it was really that good, but it was amazing!

Afterwards, we headed back to look around Trinity, but on our way, we ran into my high school friend Susan! Susan's studying in Granada and was on Spring Break. I knew she was going to be here that weekend but never thought I'd actually see her! It was so much fun running into her!! We eventually got to Trinity, vowed to come back, and headed to the National Gallery of Ireland. The Gallery was free (you hear that, Rome? free museums!) but we were tired by that time and headed back to the hostel shortly to crash before the night's festivities.

We went on a musical bar crawl. In one word: epic. But first let me go back to our Irish cabbie. He told us that a few years ago during the census, the government realized that there was 1 pub for every 30 people in Dublin, a city of 1.5 million. Do the math. Want to know which pubs were on our crawl? Oliver St. James Gogartys, Ha-Penny Bridge Inn, and Blarney Inn. Got to love irony.

Our musicians were awesome and we had a blast. The music was good and they were funny. Unfortunately, it ended at 10:30 and we'd be damned if we were going back to the hostel that early. The musicians told the four of us about a pub called Devitts, which happened to be across the street from our hostel, so we went.

People say that Dublin is becoming too touristy, but we were the only Americans in the pub and apparently you could tell. The musicians there were just as cool and we made new friends with them and these 3 Irish guys who were probably in their early to mid-20s. Devitts closed at 12:30 and the boys took us to a pub/club just down the street called Flannerys. We danced, had a pint or two and were asked to leave at 4:30 when the place closed.

The next morning, we had to be out by 10:30 and spent the rest of the day in St. Stephen's Green and a nearby coffee shop savoring the city. We stayed there until we had to leave for the airport and headed back to Rome.

I'd like to take this time to tell you I will be living in Dublin soon. I want to go back so bad!!!