Returning to Florence 23/02/2012
Sitting in front of Santa Maria Novella once more, listening to live music and enjoying the first warm day I’ve experienced in months. I love life. Returning to Florence was the best thing I could have done. Though I was there for immigration reasons and I spent most of the day in the questura, there are no words for how much I enjoyed being back in Florence. From the moment the train pulled into the station I felt like I was home. It’s amazing how after only three months in Florence it feels more like home to me than anywhere else I have lived. I missed Florence, and she welcomed me back with open arms.
Spending the night with my old roommate in a new place was so familiar it was unreal. Sleeping in a house I had never seen before should not have been so comfortable for me, but it was Florence so it could not have been any other way. Something about walking down the street that I used to live on and seeing that the same graffiti is still there comforted me. Florence hasn’t changed at all, and though I wish that my leaving the city had broken it’s heart as much as it broke mine I could not be happier that the streets of Florence are still my streets and that Florence is still my Florence. There is no joy like the joy Florence brings me, and no love like the love I have felt there.
I returned to the small café around the corner from my old apartment that I used to get a cappuccino at every morning. I was nervous that my favourite old lady would not recognise me and would not greet me with the “ciao bella” that made my day every day of my three months there. But from the moment her face lit up with recognition I could not believe that I ever doubted her. I was as much a part of her morning routine as she was of mine, and when she asked me where I had been it made me sad to say that I no longer live around the corner and that I was only back in town for one day.
I regret saying that I was happier in my one day in Florence than my one month in Tuscania, but it’s the truth. The familiarity, the memories, and the success of receiving my ‘Permit of Stay’, which is the reason I went back in the first place topped the three weekends I couldn’t leave the house because of snow.
Florence will always have a special place in my heart.
Leaving Tuscania 24/02/2012
If practice makes perfect I should be pretty damn perfect at goodbyes by this point. The amount of times I have lived and loved in a place and then had to leave it would make me the goodbye queen. Somehow, however, I have not quite perfected them yet. I have not quite learnt how to leave a place I love without feeling sad, how to part with a new but still close friend without knowing I will miss them.
I loved Tuscania. I loved the small town and the cobblestone streets, I loved the view of the countryside on a sunny day, I loved my house and my pets and my one short month of memories. But above all I loved the bonds that I formed. Above all I will miss the people more than the place.
I already miss the adorably friendly woman who worked at the green grocer who insisted I teach her a new word in English every time I stopped in to buy milk. She would write the words on a post-it note next to her cash register and make sure to use the word the next time I came back for more milk.
I already miss my advisor, who took two hours out of her day to walk me to the doctor and drive me to the supermarket on the one day that being independent and fending for myself just didn’t seem so appealing.
I miss my landlord’s weird, crazy, strange, friendly son who started off as just a neighbour and quickly became a good (though very confusing) friend. He helped me with my Italian homework, made sure I practiced the language though he spoke very impressive English and he introduced us to his friends. Coming from Florence where unless you went above and beyond making an Italian friend was a triumphant feat my small group of Italian friends in Tuscania were something to be proud of.
I miss my cat, who came with the house and stole my heart the moment she curled up in my lap in front of our fire place on one of our first nights there. I miss her warm purring body on top of my chest on the nights so cold that sleeping on the couch was more appealing than sleeping in my bed because it was that much closer to the fire, the only source of heat in the house.
But somewhere amongst all that missing and all those goodbyes, I am happy for the time I spent there, happy for the bonds I formed, and happy to know that I will be back one day without a doubt.
As for right now, I am happy to be in Rome!
Discovering Rome 28/02/2012
In my first few days in Rome I have leant some very important lessons. 1) Get used to the tourists; they’re everywhere! 2) Do not use a fountain as a landmark, there are about a million and one, and 3) expect to spend a lot of money. In my short time here, however, I’ve fallen in love with life in a big city all over again. Yes, I miss the welcoming small town feel of Tuscania, I miss walking from one end of the town to another in under an hour and I miss running into the same person every night. Most of all I miss interacting with local people. I can already tell that’s going to be hard in Rome. Aside from that, however, I love it. I love that it feels like I live in New York or London but surrounded by all the magnificent history of the Roman Empire. I love that everywhere I turn there is another grandiose monument of majestic fountain and I don’t even know what half of them were built for. I love that I can get on a metro 10 mins away from my apartment and get off 1 minute away from the Spanish Steps. So far, I love Rome, and it’s only the beginning. I can already tell the Eternal city will be hard to leave.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Un incontrare..
Last weekend I met a girl. This girl wasn’t particularly beautiful or particularly funny. She wasn’t inspirational or the protagonist of a heart wrenching story. But she was memorable. She was memorable for me because she was like looking through a time machine. For fifteen minutes I felt as though I was having a conversation with myself three years in the future. Her name was Danielle.
Danielle studied in Tuscania three years ago. She spoke a little more Italian than her classmates, but still nowhere near fluent. She was timid and excited and flirtatious and naïve. She lived here for one semester and met her husband. When we met she was sitting in the restaurant that he used to work in, the restaurant where they met. She was with her entire family and he with his and they were having a second celebration for their recent union. As I was walking out I caught a glimpse of their wedding photos that his proud father and owner of the restaurant framed and put on the wall. I loved their story, I loved her radiating joy, and I loved meeting her.
I have studied in Italy for almost 6 months now. I remember being the new girl, starting in Italy for the first time. I was lucky enough to have friends that had already studied here for one semester who took me under their wing. This time I am that person, and I have extended my wings to others. I can almost understand some Italian but am nowhere near fluent. I help translate what I can, just as Danielle did. I am not looking to meet the love of my life, in fact my father’s one condition when he encouraged me to study in Italy was “Do not get married.” I was, however, inspired, intrigued and in awe of this young girl that has lived my life and come away so happy.
I love what I’m doing, I love where I am, I love how fortunate I am and I try to appreciate every moment of it. But being diagnosed with bronchitis, being miserable due to the weather and being mildly home sick I’ve found myself losing sight recently of how lucky I am and how truly happy I am to be here. Meeting this girl reminded me of that.
It’s not because she has a fairytale happy ending, in fact it is more so because she does not have an ending yet. She is me and I am her. She studied at the same school I am studying in the same small town I am living in. I hope that one day I can go back to Florence, or come back to Tuscania and walk the same old streets older and wiser. I hope that these memories will follow me for the rest of my life and shape me the way it shaped her life. I know this experience has already changed me for the better.
Danielle studied in Tuscania three years ago. She spoke a little more Italian than her classmates, but still nowhere near fluent. She was timid and excited and flirtatious and naïve. She lived here for one semester and met her husband. When we met she was sitting in the restaurant that he used to work in, the restaurant where they met. She was with her entire family and he with his and they were having a second celebration for their recent union. As I was walking out I caught a glimpse of their wedding photos that his proud father and owner of the restaurant framed and put on the wall. I loved their story, I loved her radiating joy, and I loved meeting her.
I have studied in Italy for almost 6 months now. I remember being the new girl, starting in Italy for the first time. I was lucky enough to have friends that had already studied here for one semester who took me under their wing. This time I am that person, and I have extended my wings to others. I can almost understand some Italian but am nowhere near fluent. I help translate what I can, just as Danielle did. I am not looking to meet the love of my life, in fact my father’s one condition when he encouraged me to study in Italy was “Do not get married.” I was, however, inspired, intrigued and in awe of this young girl that has lived my life and come away so happy.
I love what I’m doing, I love where I am, I love how fortunate I am and I try to appreciate every moment of it. But being diagnosed with bronchitis, being miserable due to the weather and being mildly home sick I’ve found myself losing sight recently of how lucky I am and how truly happy I am to be here. Meeting this girl reminded me of that.
It’s not because she has a fairytale happy ending, in fact it is more so because she does not have an ending yet. She is me and I am her. She studied at the same school I am studying in the same small town I am living in. I hope that one day I can go back to Florence, or come back to Tuscania and walk the same old streets older and wiser. I hope that these memories will follow me for the rest of my life and shape me the way it shaped her life. I know this experience has already changed me for the better.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
V-Day
I used to believe that Valentines Day was a made up holiday for Hallmark and Cadbury to exploit lonely people or expectant couples. A girl on Valentines day falls into one of two categories, either single and therefore supposedly depressed and lonely or in a relationship and therefore in need of gifts and candy and spoiling for one insignificant day.
Today is different. Today I am single, ergo I must fall into the first category. But I am not sad and I am certainly not lonely. I am currently surrounded by good friends, eating a slice of torta al limone with a glass of sparkling white wine, and we’re settling down soon to watch ‘A Room with a View’. I couldn’t be further from lonely.
Today I am filled with love.
I love the small old city I live in where people are so excited to teach me Italian and for me to teach them English.
I love the new friends I have made, some I know I will be lucky enough to call best friends for the rest of my life.
I love the beautiful, though possibly haunted and freezing cold villa that I live in, even though I can see my breath in my bedroom at times…
I may not love my lungs for recently contracting bronchitis but other than that I am perfectly content.
I love myself, I love my friends, I love my family (though I miss them dearly), and I love life. What else can you ask for on a day of love?
Buon Valentino a tutti. Happy Valentines Day.
Today is different. Today I am single, ergo I must fall into the first category. But I am not sad and I am certainly not lonely. I am currently surrounded by good friends, eating a slice of torta al limone with a glass of sparkling white wine, and we’re settling down soon to watch ‘A Room with a View’. I couldn’t be further from lonely.
Today I am filled with love.
I love the small old city I live in where people are so excited to teach me Italian and for me to teach them English.
I love the new friends I have made, some I know I will be lucky enough to call best friends for the rest of my life.
I love the beautiful, though possibly haunted and freezing cold villa that I live in, even though I can see my breath in my bedroom at times…
I may not love my lungs for recently contracting bronchitis but other than that I am perfectly content.
I love myself, I love my friends, I love my family (though I miss them dearly), and I love life. What else can you ask for on a day of love?
Buon Valentino a tutti. Happy Valentines Day.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
La bella lingua
I love Italian.
Aside from the fact that the modern tongue is directly developed from some of the greatest writers in Italian history, and regardless of the evolution of the language from individual regional dialects to the Tuscan and mostly Florentine vernacular becoming the prominent common language, and despite my bias because of how much I love Florence… I love Italian.
There are so many things about this language that are more beautiful, more creative, and more romantic than English could ever hope to be. How can you not love a language in which dinner is a verb?! Io ceno, I dine.
My new nickname is buona forchetta, which literally means ‘good fork’ but is their way of saying one has a good appetite. I consider it a compliment.
The Italian class I am taking this semester is more than overwhelming. I am doing a semester worth of second level Italian in four weeks, and then intermediate Italian for the remaining two months. I felt like I was having a heart attack in my brain today when my teacher tried to explain the difference between in and nel in relation to place, but then I learnt the word for hug, abbracciare, which literally means ‘embrace her’ and I fell in love with the language all over again.
Making a simple word more exciting by adding –issima to the end is, well, exciting. Bravissima! Bellissima! Or, one that I have become particularly well acquainted with in my short time here in Tuscania, Freddissima! (which means really f-ing cold).
Cado innamorato is a much more beautiful way of saying ‘fall in love’. It makes me almost believe that when one falls in love in Italy one never hits the ground. (A lot to expect from a language, I know). To say mi trucco, or literally ‘I trick’ instead of ‘to put on makeup’ is much more lavish, and funny that Italians refer to makeup as a trick, a distortion of natural feminine beauty. Buonanotte sounds more musical than a simple goodnight, and sogni d’oro, dream of gold, is quite possibly the most romantic thing I have ever heard. Who doesn’t want golden dreams?
Sono innamorato con questa lingua, e voglio imparare l’italiano piu e piu.
Aside from the fact that the modern tongue is directly developed from some of the greatest writers in Italian history, and regardless of the evolution of the language from individual regional dialects to the Tuscan and mostly Florentine vernacular becoming the prominent common language, and despite my bias because of how much I love Florence… I love Italian.
There are so many things about this language that are more beautiful, more creative, and more romantic than English could ever hope to be. How can you not love a language in which dinner is a verb?! Io ceno, I dine.
My new nickname is buona forchetta, which literally means ‘good fork’ but is their way of saying one has a good appetite. I consider it a compliment.
The Italian class I am taking this semester is more than overwhelming. I am doing a semester worth of second level Italian in four weeks, and then intermediate Italian for the remaining two months. I felt like I was having a heart attack in my brain today when my teacher tried to explain the difference between in and nel in relation to place, but then I learnt the word for hug, abbracciare, which literally means ‘embrace her’ and I fell in love with the language all over again.
Making a simple word more exciting by adding –issima to the end is, well, exciting. Bravissima! Bellissima! Or, one that I have become particularly well acquainted with in my short time here in Tuscania, Freddissima! (which means really f-ing cold).
Cado innamorato is a much more beautiful way of saying ‘fall in love’. It makes me almost believe that when one falls in love in Italy one never hits the ground. (A lot to expect from a language, I know). To say mi trucco, or literally ‘I trick’ instead of ‘to put on makeup’ is much more lavish, and funny that Italians refer to makeup as a trick, a distortion of natural feminine beauty. Buonanotte sounds more musical than a simple goodnight, and sogni d’oro, dream of gold, is quite possibly the most romantic thing I have ever heard. Who doesn’t want golden dreams?
Sono innamorato con questa lingua, e voglio imparare l’italiano piu e piu.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tuscania
At the beginning of last semester my advisor recommended that we write a letter to ourselves saying our first thoughts and feelings about Florence. We then gave the letters to her and she returned them at the end of the semester so we could see how we grew and if we met our expectations. This semester I’m doing it again:
Dear Tara,
I- you- arrived yesterday. Even though I had a 4am flight and even though I waited at the airport for 5 hours for the provided transportation to take me from Rome to Tuscania and even though it’s freezing cold… I love it. Tuscania is beautiful. The kind of town you could get lost in, in many senses of the word. It’s so small yet so maze-like within the ancient city walls that one wrong turn could take you 20 mins from where you are trying to go (and that could be the best 20 minutes you’ve ever spent). But it’s also the kind of place you could get lost from the world in. It would be easy to come here and never leave. But I’m glad I am. I’m glad that in one month I’ll be packing my bags again and heading off to Rome. Nothing excites me more than the thought of how amazing this semester is going to be, how different each city will be and how much I’m going to learn. I am already excited for the next chapter. I’m worried this will go too quickly. I will admit I’m guilty of living with my head in the future. I’m already sad about the end of this adventure that has only just begun. I can’t help but miss certain people and wish I could share this beautiful place with them. I’m frustrated by technicalities that are ruining my excitement about being here. But though my mind is plagued by these worries I refuse to take a minute of my time here for granted. I hope that Tuscania will be the true Italian experience I’ve been seeking. I hope that no one will speak to me in English and that I will make friends with local people. I’m hoping I will get lost here, everyday, but I hope that after one month I’ll be able to find my way around with a blindfold and without a word of English. I’m looking forward to the complete opposite in Rome. I want the big city feel with the Italian touch, I want the history mixed in with the nightlife, I want the freedom… and the fast internet. And Venice, no words can describe how excited I am for Venice.
As for now, I am lucky enough (again) to have roommates I can see myself being good friends with very soon. I’m lucky enough to be able to get by with the little Italian I know thus far. I’m lucky enough to love what I’m studying. I’m lucky.
Dear Tara,
I- you- arrived yesterday. Even though I had a 4am flight and even though I waited at the airport for 5 hours for the provided transportation to take me from Rome to Tuscania and even though it’s freezing cold… I love it. Tuscania is beautiful. The kind of town you could get lost in, in many senses of the word. It’s so small yet so maze-like within the ancient city walls that one wrong turn could take you 20 mins from where you are trying to go (and that could be the best 20 minutes you’ve ever spent). But it’s also the kind of place you could get lost from the world in. It would be easy to come here and never leave. But I’m glad I am. I’m glad that in one month I’ll be packing my bags again and heading off to Rome. Nothing excites me more than the thought of how amazing this semester is going to be, how different each city will be and how much I’m going to learn. I am already excited for the next chapter. I’m worried this will go too quickly. I will admit I’m guilty of living with my head in the future. I’m already sad about the end of this adventure that has only just begun. I can’t help but miss certain people and wish I could share this beautiful place with them. I’m frustrated by technicalities that are ruining my excitement about being here. But though my mind is plagued by these worries I refuse to take a minute of my time here for granted. I hope that Tuscania will be the true Italian experience I’ve been seeking. I hope that no one will speak to me in English and that I will make friends with local people. I’m hoping I will get lost here, everyday, but I hope that after one month I’ll be able to find my way around with a blindfold and without a word of English. I’m looking forward to the complete opposite in Rome. I want the big city feel with the Italian touch, I want the history mixed in with the nightlife, I want the freedom… and the fast internet. And Venice, no words can describe how excited I am for Venice.
As for now, I am lucky enough (again) to have roommates I can see myself being good friends with very soon. I’m lucky enough to be able to get by with the little Italian I know thus far. I’m lucky enough to love what I’m studying. I’m lucky.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Thoughts on a stormy day
It’s a stormy day today. I slept late and woke up to the sound of the wind chimes outside my bedroom window. The wind had caught them and agitated them and they were calling out for help. As I went outside to relieve the wind chimes from their unwanted energy one of the large plants on my balcony caught the wind as well and blew right over. It’s lying on the floor now, resting on its side like me in my bed.
It’s a stormy day today. I just tried to write a poem and all that came out was
‘the storm clouds in my head have crawled into the sky,
now the world and I can see eye to eye’.
I can’t seem to turn my thoughts off. I often think too much.
It’s a stormy day today. I’ve found that recently I haven’t been writing anything I find worthwhile. I wrote one poem I like last week, and six that I don’t. I started a blog post yesterday but never finished it. I can’t condense my stormy thoughts to coherent rhythmic words on a page. This is the best I can do.
It’s a stormy day today and I’m worried. I’m worried that the rain will dampen the clothes I’ve put out to dry. I’m worried the sky will stay so dark I’ll need to turn on the lights before the sun even sets. I’m worried I don’t know what to pack. I’m worried about going back to Italy (mostly excited, but worried too.) I’m worried about my future.
It’s a stormy day today, but it may not be tomorrow. I have no way of knowing if it will be stormy tomorrow; either in my head or in the skies. I can only hope for sunshine. I need to learn that I can’t control the future. I can make decisions- hopefully the right decisions- that will determine certain things. But I can’t know what will happen before it happens. I can’t know what to do before I do it. I can’t hop in a time machine and turn the dial to five months from now or five years from now and prove to myself that everything will be ok. Maybe it won’t, maybe nothing will be ok. Maybe nothing will be as I expect. But maybe, just maybe it will. Maybe my dreams will come true and my worries will prove to be pointless. Maybe five months from now I will be the happiest I have ever been. I can only hope for sunshine.
It’s a stormy day today. I just tried to write a poem and all that came out was
‘the storm clouds in my head have crawled into the sky,
now the world and I can see eye to eye’.
I can’t seem to turn my thoughts off. I often think too much.
It’s a stormy day today. I’ve found that recently I haven’t been writing anything I find worthwhile. I wrote one poem I like last week, and six that I don’t. I started a blog post yesterday but never finished it. I can’t condense my stormy thoughts to coherent rhythmic words on a page. This is the best I can do.
It’s a stormy day today and I’m worried. I’m worried that the rain will dampen the clothes I’ve put out to dry. I’m worried the sky will stay so dark I’ll need to turn on the lights before the sun even sets. I’m worried I don’t know what to pack. I’m worried about going back to Italy (mostly excited, but worried too.) I’m worried about my future.
It’s a stormy day today, but it may not be tomorrow. I have no way of knowing if it will be stormy tomorrow; either in my head or in the skies. I can only hope for sunshine. I need to learn that I can’t control the future. I can make decisions- hopefully the right decisions- that will determine certain things. But I can’t know what will happen before it happens. I can’t know what to do before I do it. I can’t hop in a time machine and turn the dial to five months from now or five years from now and prove to myself that everything will be ok. Maybe it won’t, maybe nothing will be ok. Maybe nothing will be as I expect. But maybe, just maybe it will. Maybe my dreams will come true and my worries will prove to be pointless. Maybe five months from now I will be the happiest I have ever been. I can only hope for sunshine.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Two Thousand and Eleven
2011 has been a great year.
A year of fun, accomplishments and achievements, a year of hellos, goodbyes and reunions. I left some good friends I had seen everyday for years, I saw some old friends I hadn't seen in years and I met some of the most amazing people of my life this year.
I played Carnival, played with dolphins and played in parks. I graduated high school, I was in a fashion show, I lived in Italy. I've been to ten different countries. I've learned so much this year. I've loved so much this year.
As 2011 is quickly drawing to an end I recollect my best memories, my greatest moments, my strengths and growth, my pride in myself for this year past. I also remember my low points, the times I cried myself to sleep, the times I walked through the city alone, the times I let my thoughts rule me and bring me down. And I remember how I overcame all that, and came out for the better. I know I am a better person today, this 31st of December than I was on the 31st of December 2010. I am one year older and one year stronger.
I've had more fun and been more continuously happy this past year than I have for as long as I can remember. I have so much to be thankful for, so much I am thankful for.
And it's only just begun.
I'm excited for 2012, eager to see what it will bring, ready to overcome whatever obstacles are thrown my way and happy that I am healthy enough to face this year head on. As everyone does at the end of a year I am beginning to plan my resolutions for next year. I do this every year and I have not kept a single New Years resolution in my life. Sometimes I write them down, sometimes I forget about them the next week, but this year I am sharing them with the world so I have no excuses. That being said…
1. Stop making excuses
I am so good at convincing myself why I shouldn't do something, focusing on the consequences or the discomfort, I often forget to think about all the good that can come out of taking a leap of faith and forcing myself to do something even if I'm trying to talk myself out of it.
2. Be better at long distance communication
For me Skype is pretty much reserved for my sister, and I have friends all over the world, from Australia to America to Holland to Trinidad to England, Scotland, Finland, Ireland, and so on and so forth. I need to stop closing myself off to the people I can't see everyday and make more of an effort to communicate with all of my wonderful friends.
3. Stop being so lazy
This is going to be the hardest by far.
4. Accomplish at least one thing on my bucket list.
http://memoirsofarat.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-bucket-list.html
5. Allow myself to get hurt
Because it probably means I took a chance, risked breaking out of my comfort zone and fell hard. But at least I would have hit something great on the way down.
(Unless I fall down the stairs, there's nothing great about falling down the stairs.)
I hope you all have had a great year, and that 2012 is good to you in more ways than you can even imagine right now.
Happy New Year!
A year of fun, accomplishments and achievements, a year of hellos, goodbyes and reunions. I left some good friends I had seen everyday for years, I saw some old friends I hadn't seen in years and I met some of the most amazing people of my life this year.
I played Carnival, played with dolphins and played in parks. I graduated high school, I was in a fashion show, I lived in Italy. I've been to ten different countries. I've learned so much this year. I've loved so much this year.
As 2011 is quickly drawing to an end I recollect my best memories, my greatest moments, my strengths and growth, my pride in myself for this year past. I also remember my low points, the times I cried myself to sleep, the times I walked through the city alone, the times I let my thoughts rule me and bring me down. And I remember how I overcame all that, and came out for the better. I know I am a better person today, this 31st of December than I was on the 31st of December 2010. I am one year older and one year stronger.
I've had more fun and been more continuously happy this past year than I have for as long as I can remember. I have so much to be thankful for, so much I am thankful for.
And it's only just begun.
I'm excited for 2012, eager to see what it will bring, ready to overcome whatever obstacles are thrown my way and happy that I am healthy enough to face this year head on. As everyone does at the end of a year I am beginning to plan my resolutions for next year. I do this every year and I have not kept a single New Years resolution in my life. Sometimes I write them down, sometimes I forget about them the next week, but this year I am sharing them with the world so I have no excuses. That being said…
1. Stop making excuses
I am so good at convincing myself why I shouldn't do something, focusing on the consequences or the discomfort, I often forget to think about all the good that can come out of taking a leap of faith and forcing myself to do something even if I'm trying to talk myself out of it.
2. Be better at long distance communication
For me Skype is pretty much reserved for my sister, and I have friends all over the world, from Australia to America to Holland to Trinidad to England, Scotland, Finland, Ireland, and so on and so forth. I need to stop closing myself off to the people I can't see everyday and make more of an effort to communicate with all of my wonderful friends.
3. Stop being so lazy
This is going to be the hardest by far.
4. Accomplish at least one thing on my bucket list.
http://memoirsofarat.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-bucket-list.html
5. Allow myself to get hurt
Because it probably means I took a chance, risked breaking out of my comfort zone and fell hard. But at least I would have hit something great on the way down.
(Unless I fall down the stairs, there's nothing great about falling down the stairs.)
I hope you all have had a great year, and that 2012 is good to you in more ways than you can even imagine right now.
Happy New Year!
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