I picked up the Edmond newspaper this
morning after I got home from posting some campaign signs, and on the
front page I saw yet another article in which the writer misunderstood
their topic. This morning, Greg Elwell, a man noteworthy for his lack
of precision, stated:

"Remember-- if you want houses instead of stores, vote 'No No Yes Yes.'
If you want stores instead of houses, vote 'Yes Yes No No'."

For some reason (I would assume because of some deceit on behalf of the
"Better Edmond" organization), every person in my town thinks that
voting NO NO YES YES in Edmond's upcoming election means that housing
absolutely will be developed on the land south of Hafer Park.

That is just not true.

Voting NO NO YES YES only means the land in question will remain zoned
residential, as was the desire of Edmond's forefathers. Residential
zoning means that the land may be used for churches, parks,
neighborhoods, and educational facilities, and that such civic
structures may legally go in there. However, they must pass three
checkpoints before any change can be made on the land:

1. Said project must pass by a majority vote of the planning commission.

2. Said project must pass by a majority vote of the city council.

3. Said project must not be petitioned by a certain number of Edmond
residents (number based on previous election turnout) to a city-wide
vote, and then voted down.

For example, if HUD housing were proposed to go into the land south of
Hafer Park, but it failed to pass one of those standards, then HUD
housing would fail to be developed. The same process would go for any
church, school, neighborhood or park.

This is why voting "NO NO YES YES" DOES NOT mean houses absolutely will go in.

However, since the commercial development in question has already
passed through City Council, this petitioned vote is the last chance to
stop it from going in.

So, please, think about it. It's not a matter of stores vs houses. It's
a matter of traffic inflation/flood plain devastation/green belt
destruction vs preservation of all those things.

Vote No No Yes Yes if you want to give the land surrounding Hafer a
chance to grow into what it was originally desired to become.

Hello one and all, was it you I used to know?

If this were Xanga this time two years ago...

this would be Xanga now.

Sometimes I feel like the King of the World,

You would think, after having to endure a strenuous drive through vast
nothingness, that the rest of my Summer would be a breeze, right?

Wrong.

The photo journal
required for my Survey of Rome didn't submit properly (due to it's
large size), causing 200 points to be missing from my grade, causing my
grade to go from an A to a D. This, of course, made my GPA for the
Summer a stellar 1.0, and thus, suspended me for the upcoming semester.

Since I didn't really feel like attending OSU in OKC, and I didn't want
to live through 2005 again, I had to cut a deal with the Professor from
the Rome trip. All I have to do is create a powerpoint advertising for
next Summer's Rome class. I guess that's pretty cool, since anyone who
looks at a monitor in the Liberal Arts building will see my creation
year-round.

The thing that really gets me is that since I'm still technically
"suspended" from next semester, all my classes (which I picked out back
in May so I would have a simple schedule and easy professors) were
removed from my schedule, and I'm unable to re-enroll until the D
changes back to an A.

So here's to a very hard semester, with all the reject teachers.

Oh, and I want to freshen up my french. Any helpers?

Well, I actually did make it to the border.

With Mexico notched on my belt, I have successfully visited two countries this summer.

However, I shall never again voluntarily drive to El Paso. 12 hours on
the road can do weird things to your mind... like provoke you to write
on a dying weblog.

Oh, and aside from El Paso, all of western Texas is a "giant shithole that God likes to cum into."

Monday, May 29^th

And we’re off! Finally, what I’ve been waiting for since February is finally happening: my best friend, Joel, and I are flying to Roma! It’s felt like eternity since Joel suggested that I try and go along. I’m going into this experience with utmost enthusiasm. This isn’t my first time to travel the world; it’s not even my first time to see Rome, but I already know this trip will be enlightening in so many ways.

The first time I got to see Italy, it was just an excursion during a cruise. Even though we had a great driver and tour guide, and saw several of the sites including the Pantheon, Saint Peter’s Basilica, and the Colosseum, I know that I couldn’t see all of Rome in one day. After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day. I doubt I’ll even be able to experience most of Rome in the two weeks I’ll be there. Time will only tell.

It’s hard to tell exactly what will happen in the next two weeks, but Joel’s with me, and that should help keep my homesickness at bay. I definitely need to get to know the rest of the group. I’m no more familiar with the other UCO students than I am with Danny the homeless man that rides his bike around Edmond. There’s gonna be plenty of time for that, however.

Since the last time I wrote, we’ve flown through a few airports, ridden on a bus through Rome, gotten settled in the Villa Maria, rested up, and had our first day on the streets in this vast city. Surprisingly to me, I am not sharing a room with Joel. Instead, I’m with Glen Floyd and Mehrdod Bayat, and Joel is with Phredd Evans and Joe Blanchard. It’s pointless to complain though. I already know Joel and this is just what I need to get to know my fellow students a little better.

I’m pretty exhausted from the traveling. The world truly is massive, even when you travel 700mph. Contrary to my previous doubts, however, the trip itself wasn’t miserable. In fact, despite not sitting next to anyone I knew, having Pepsi spilt all over me by the stewardess on the second flight, and having a five-year-old girl sleep with her face in my right arm for a majority of an eight hour flight, it was a delightful ride. And I don’t really feel jet lagged. If anything, my bizarre sleep schedule in America prepared me perfectly for our agenda in class.

So onto what we did today. Today acted almost like a refresher day, as we visited most of the spots I had seen on the cruise two years ago. The class stopped by the Largo Argentina for a few minutes before moving on to the Crypta Balbi, which was the only new experience to me this day. It was interesting, although I wish I could have spent less time in the basement--or whatever we went underground for-- and more time looking at the frescoes and other assorted artwork.

After a brief lunch at the Piazza Navona with Glen, Mehrdod, Joel, and Sarah, we sat through a couple of reports and proceeded to possibly my favorite landmark in Rome: THE PANTHEON! The Pantheon is the most impressive structure to me, as it’s lasted so long and still kept in [almost] pristine shape. Whereas it may not be as large as the Colosseum, it’s in better shape, and while it’s not as grand as St. Peter’s, it’s also much older. Unfortunately, the Pantheon’s original purpose is no longer being served, as it was originally a temple to all the Pagan gods of old. Nevertheless, it’s beauty is comparable only to some of the most exquisite landmarks around the world. The pillars out front were even larger than I remembered. I suppose when your empire expands over the brim of the civilized world, leaving you with control over seemingly limitless resources and slaves, you are capable of creating anything.

Next on the agenda was the Churches of Santa Maria sopra Minerva and Saint Ignatius. I’m not a religious person in particular, which may explain why I’d wish to see the Pantheon in it original form, but that did not keep those two churches from humbling me slightly. All the work put into these churches makes an agnostic like me second guess my beliefs and think that there might be some divine presence after all to motivate such creation. Enough religious babble.

I wiped out on the street this morning and destroyed my knee. Chances are I’ll probably get infected with some odd disease native to the grease piling on the side of Rome’s streets. There was no way I was going to let that keep me down though; today was the forum day, and I had to make the best of it. Although I have been to the Colosseum and the Victor Emmanuel, I never got to see the forum in its full glory. The closest I got was the Arch of Titus. So I got the self-annointed (and annoying) matron, Stacy, to give me first aid. No, not anything sexual, that's sick. She's like thirty-three.

I didn’t care for the way class was handled today. Weber split us up into small groups and we had to write an arbitrarily long amount of self-concluded information on the many sites in the forum. Joel and I were joined with Tim, Candace, Elisa, and Gloria. The entire exercise seemed a bit fruitless, and I spent most of my time preparing for my speech which I found out this morning was to be presented today. Thankfully, one thing I'm great at being the center of attention for roughly 5-10 minutes.

The speech turned out well enough. I came off a little less professional than most of the other presentations, and of all the people, I had to follow Phredd’s presentation. That guy was so thorough that it quieted Dr Weber. Anyway, I managed to give everyone the gist of the arches, and all while the students were laughing. I was relieved for my part of the trip to be over already.

Sarah said “penis” in her presentation. That would have been the highlight of my day if I were still back in Oklahoma, but as I am in Rome, I’d have to say that seeing the Arch of Titus was my favorite thing. Arches are representative of victory in war, and I love war. Also, I felt a lot more interested in seeing the arch this time around since I did so much research on it.

Today was a day for Gladiator fans--Colosseum day. Before going inside the Colosseum, the entire group sat on a hill and listened to Joe’s presentation and part of Mehrdod’s presentation. I say “part” because the storm clouds decided to rain on his parade, causing all of us to scatter. John, one of the gay guys from Iowa, got suckered into buying a defective umbrella from one of those annoying street vendors. Wow, if there’s one thing I’m looking forward to when I get home, it’s not having to deal with street vendors around every corner.

The rain scuttled us into the Colosseum prematurely, but after the sky cleared minutes later (bless the Mediterranean climate), the class was already separated. With the free time I had, I wandered from group to group, trying to meet and talk to the people from the other schools. So far I haven’t met anyone I don’t like. Surprising!

We’re on the bus back to Villa Maria from Pompeii. Today was great. My previous experience with Pompeii made me a valuable asset as “map boy” for my group. I also got to see a lot of things that were new to me. For instance, the Villa of Mystery was impressive. If I lived back in ancient times, I’d want to live like that family--making wine, partying, worshipping Bacchus, and being quite rich. That doesn’t sound too bad for this day in age, either!

I spent most of the day at Pompeii with Martha, one of the UTEP girls from Durango, Mexico. I had no clue that all of the “Fresas” were from twenty-three to twenty-six years old. Then again, I didn’t even know they were actually from Mexico when I first met them. Not only am I getting an interesting splash of culture from my experience in Rome, but I’m even getting it from inside the group.

Joel had apparently been out all night with the Fresas, or girls from Mexico, which meant he’d been drinking all night and therefore wreaked of alcohol. On the way to Pompeii, I sat next to him, and wow, did he smell horrible. It was like a baby went to the potty, caught on fire, and tried to snuff itself out in my armpit. Then he wanted me to move because he wanted to have two seats to himself, but I think only I know the real reason as to why he wanted me gone. He was interested in Claudia, a UTEP girl sitting across the aisle from us. Of course I was able to tell he liked her, because we have similar [good] taste and I thought she was attractive too.

Ah well, where Joel and I differ is my inability to pursue someone. I want to be a friend to these people, not a boyfriend to them, at least I swear that's my reasoning.

I can’t wait to get home and get some rest. I haven’t fully adjusted to all the walking that Rome asks of you.

Last night was interesting. Even though I recorded that I couldn’t “wait to get home and get some rest,” I went to a pub called “Finn McCumhal’s” for the second time and saw a lot of people from Michigan State. It’s such a relief to see other people who speak perfect English when you’re in the middle of a foreign land.

Damn these uneven roads in Rome. It seems like I’m taking after my cousin Kate, nicknamed “trippy,” because I can’t stop falling over. On the way to the pub, a girl called out my name from across the street, and like clockwork, as I tried to look around for her, I stepped in one of the many holes plaguing the sidewalks, and wiped out. Glen so eloquently said that it was the “most ungraceful thing he’d ever seen.” Leave it to me to make a fool out of myself in front of an attractive girl.

The Michigan State girls weren’t the only ones at the pub tonight. It seems like local Italians also liked the Irish ways of libation. There was Pierro, Alesandro, Giorgio, Barrone, Louis, and Torrente. Those names are a lot harder to memorize than Tom, Dick, and Harry. Ah well, I’m surprised with how kind the locals are. It all depends on how hard you try to communicate with them. [The Red] Barrone was a little drunk and wanted to arm wrestle me; needless to say that I wasn’t going to lose to some Italian. Even with the help of his friend Bobby, he was no match for the American Jackhammer--god, did I just call myself that?

While I was talking about interesting subjects such as Eddie Guerrero and the decline of BMW prices over a three month period, Mehrdod managed to run off with a cute girl named Erin. Even Joel got together with Kim, who is a very fine catch if I must say so myself. Maybe I should try to socialize more with the girls. When in Rome, do as the Romans do (and in this case, it means relentlessly hit on the girls).

“On a beach overseas, icy water slaps at our knees, and the buoy was signaling as if and ten we were far from home” ~Yo La Tengo, Winter a-go-go

Today was the second day we’ve had off, so what better was to spend it than to get myself extremely sunburned at that beach in Ostia? Time, Ali, Mehrdod, Jess, Juinor, Joel and I made a trek for our sandy destination around noon. The expedition took about an hour and twenty minutes; twenty minutes spent on the bus, and probably thirty-to-forty minutes on the train. All of the trouble was without, however, as the sight of the Mediterranean was just as I remember it.

Ali took her top off, which upset her brother a wee bit, but none of the other guys were complaining, except Junior, who was indifferent (being gay). Karma turned around and stung Ali though, since when she tried to go down to the water, she was almost instantly hounded by countless foreign and frisky men.

After buying a couple of Peronis for five euros, Tim, Joel, and I went into the water. I was a bit chilly, but nothing compared to San Diego’s water--definitely nothing my Norse blood couldn’t handle. Out in the water, we encountered some Russian men and learned, firsthand, how easy it is to communicate with people of different nationalities even with the lack of a mutual understanding of a language. In my case, it helps to lie and say that you don’t like Bush.

We all got a little burned, a little drunk, and little rested. Well, maybe Joel got a little more burned than everyone else. He put on sun screen and burned in a splotchy pattern, making his skin tone comparable to a strawberry shortcake.

The class had a meeting for five o’clock, so the gang packed up and headed back to the Villa Maria. There were a couple of cute girls on the train back. I’m sure they didn’t speak a lick of English, though, but that adds to the allure of Italian women for me. It seems like a girl can be a little unattractive to me back at home, but overseas, I find her sexy just for being Italian.

My system is starting to hate me for all the abuse I’ve put it through. Tonight is the last night I’m going out. This drinking and smoking is not only unhealthy for me but a huge drain on my money. I’d like to have some spare money for some of the finer things in Rome.

Also, the Roman nightlife has a strange effect on these people. No one can seem to make their mind up over who they want to hook up with. Ah well.

Today we’re going to see the Sistine Chapel. I’m really surprised that I am honored enough to visit one of the most moving religious monuments in the world. Hah, I guess that this whole is based on religious backgrounds of Rome.

Seems like I will have a tan after this trip. I can’t wait to show off how good looking I am when I get home.

---

I just experienced the holy splendor that is Vatican City. As I write this, I am sitting atop St. Peter’s Basilica. Everything was a hundred-fold more moving than I thought it would be. Raphael’s Stanza, Michelangelo’s Divine Judgment, and all of the Greek and Egyptian statues were enough ocular intake to almost change my whole perspective of the world. Though I’m agnostic, I have intense interest in studying the background of all this artwork. Surely my dad will be more than pleased to hear that, and even more please to help me attain that knowledge.

I’m very worn out today. We walked all the way from Villa Maria to the Vatican Museum. There, we headed to the front of the line where JSN was holding our spot, and I’d be darned if I didn’t feel awkward cutting five-thousand people. Apparently I wasn’t the only who thought so, since people who had waited for an hour in line started getting adamant about forty people cutting them. Without hesitation, I headed to the back of the line. The wait wasn’t near as bad as the length of the line led me to believe.

If there ever were a reason to have a camera, it would be for the Vatican Museum. Unfortunately, I was misinformed; I heard that cameras weren’t allowed, which was untrue aside from inside the Sistine Chapel (ironically the most photo-worthy of all places). Like I said, I look forward to learning more in-depth about the ceiling artwork. Heh, I just wrote that I’m looking forward to learning… this trip is all too life-altering. This may be the best twenty-five hundred my parents have ever spent. I would love it if they would take me back someday.

Oh, speaking of my family, which I miss, I also miss my second family, the Standefers, greatly. I’m looking at their family picture which I am to bless at the Pope’s audience tomorrow. Seeing their smiles in the photograph is a true reminder that there are some things even more wonderful than the Vatican waiting for me in Oklahoma.

There have been a few reminders making me yearn for Oklahoma. Cara Prentiss sent a text message saying how she missed my presence. Of course that is to be expected, but to have someone go out of their way to let you know really says something. John Baber has also been calling me, although I’m pretty sure he just thinks I’m in town still. Most importantly, Elisa Standefer has been leaving me voicemails. That girl is, without a doubt, what I miss most about Oklahoma. She is in my thoughts all hours of the day--from whenever I wake up until I go to sleep, and further on into my dream. Whenever I see her, which will be only moments after I get back to Oklahoma, it will take every ounce of my restraint to keep from kissing her. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be homesick so early on in the trip.

Haha, I just realized that I went inside the Sistine Chapel on 6/6/6

My mission is complete. I fulfilled the Stander’s request and blessed their family picture. I felt blessed being able to attend the Pope’s audience… then again, that could be the blessing talking. It was definitely worth waking up at six am, walking to St. Peter’s square, and waiting until nine for the audience.

There were so many countries represented in the audience… unfortunately, our group was surrounded by Germans, who rank among the gruffest people in the world. I didn’t even know Germans were religious, let alone catholic. Oh well.

I tell ya, journal, it can’t be easy being the Pope. Ol’ Benedict had to recite his sermon in several languages. Let’s count: English, Spanish, German, French, Russian, Polish, Latin, and Chinese. With all the lingual efficiency required for the job, it’s safe to say that an American will never be pope.

Well, last night unfolded some interesting events, but it’s a story I cannot tell without speaking ill of someone else on the trip, so I choose to keep my quiet.

Our destination today was for Ostia, not the beach, but instead the site of the ancient port city. I enjoyed the excursion, but due to the way class was handled, not as much as I imagine I could have. We split up into groups again and explored the different areas of this abandoned trade town.

The professors left us to use our deductive reasoning to guess what life was like in this site two thousand years ago. Deductive reasoning isn’t my strong point, and I much prefer to be told what life was like instead of guessing. That minor inconvenience wasn’t going to keep me from enjoying the atmosphere I’d just immersed myself in.

After our class activities had ended for the day, Joel, a few others, and I headed for the beach of Ostia, which had unanimously become our favorite relaxation point. When the clouds finally decided to rear their ugly heads, the crew headed back home. On the train, Sylvia, Joel and I encountered a boy around our age who reminded me of a swarthy version of a guy I knew back home.

He talked his way into eating dinner with [Joel and] Sylvia, but I decided to head to my trusty kabob place. Kabobs are a staple food of this religious city, and I’m certain that they are somehow divinized by a greater force to taste so good. Mm…

What a day of surprise. When I saw this day on the schedule, I was not looking forward to it, but I think my skepticism was shut down.

First up was the protestant cemetery. “Woohoo,” I thought “a cemetery. How amazing.” The intricate artwork for each headstone was unique, and almost made me look forward to dying so I can have an awesome statue plopped above my corpse.

Also, I was not looking forward to seeing the Keats and Shelly museum at all. However, the curator of the museum was chock-full of information and mentioned several things that really peaked my interest in the two romantic authors. I had no clue Keats had a calcified heart! That’s freaking awesome. If he were a vampire, it would be near-impossible to slay him.

One more surprise came to me today. I wasn’t a fan of Bernini’s work up until I saw his rendition of David at the Villa Borghese. I don’t care what critics say; I find his David much more striking than Michelangelo’s. Standing in front of the statue, I could almost feel like there was an ominous presence behind me. If only cameras were allowed in there.

I also saw one of my favorite paintings in person today-- The Council of the Gods. Dr. Holme and I went back and forth naming off the gods in Greek and Roman mythology. David Holme is probably my favorite of the adults, just as he has great taste in music, knows a lot about mythology, and can read me better than I can myself. Also, he, Joel and I had a great time the other night singing Deacon Blues as Germans.

Florence was comparable to a day in Hell, only slightly cooler, to me. I woke up to find out that my ID and my credit card were nowhere to be found. Funny how life suddenly loses its flare whenever you run out of money. The bad news made me have second thoughts about going to Florence, so I called my mom to consult with her. After a very brief convincing-- “you should go” --I ended up running onto the bus last minute.

I can’t really decide whether I was better off going or not, as the rude awakening left me rather, well, rude. The entire day I was half a fuse short of blowing up on anything that crossed me.

After only five minutes off of the bus, Mehrdod tried to go into a hotel to use a restroom. I thought nothing of it and kept walking with Tim. After making it a couple hundred yards down the road, Tim and I turn around to see Mehrdod getting shoved out of the hotel by some bald Italian. Well that was just not something I could stand for. Tim and I stormed our way back to get some reckoning down with the Italian concierge only seconds after he popped inside and threatened to call the police. Funny how threatening to bring in the police will always change my outlook on things.

Still, I was moneyless and to the point of not caring anymore. I don’t know what kept me from shoving that bald spaghetti bender around; it couldn’t have been my conscience-- I don’t have one.

And of all the places to have only thirty euros to your name, Florence ranks among one of the worst. Joel, Tim and I fell into a tourist trap of a restaurant, which looked like it had good food, but looks can be very deceiving. The less-than-sub-par meal we had set us back a cumulative fifty euros. After that meal, I decided to not eat for the rest of the day.

To make matters worse, I thought it would be good to follow Joel around, who only ended up leading me to second-rate junk stores in hopes to find something for his sister and mom. I suppose it didn’t matter, since I had no clue where any of the museums were and I wouldn’t have had any money for them anyway. Hopefully my parents will make it up to me and show me these places later on in life.

Regardless of my pessimism, I did see a few interesting sights in Florence. In the square outside of the Uffizi, a statue was covered in a muzzle of bees--not at all something I’d expect to see.

I also got a great photo of Perseus holding Medusa’s decapitated head in the same square, which I know my father will greatly appreciate. “Make sure when you go to Florence, that you get a good picture of Perseus,” he said “last time I went, there was some scaffolding covering it, so I never got the shot I wanted.” Well, Dad, happy father’s day ahead of time.

Still, the lack of money made me more and more gruff throughout the day. A beggar women kept shaking a cup in front of my face, trying to get me to donate. Unfortunately for her, I didn’t know how to say “I’m sorry, but you probably have more money than I do” in Italian. She would shake the cup in front of my face, then Tim’s, then mine, then Tim’s. I started to raise my voice, and that signaled Tim to donate a coin or two to get her out of there, because he knew one more shaking of that cup in my face would have resulted with [what was left of] that beggar’s teeth on the street alongside the money she had collected.

It’s safe to say I was ready to get back to the Villa Maria for a big boy nap when I got on the bus.

My sleep schedule has really adjusted to Italy. Too bad I leave in two days and jet lag will mess me up again. As my trip comes closer and closer to an end, I realize how much I’ve changed since leaving America. First and foremost, I’ve acquired a new taste for history. My dad is going to be thrilled to hear that. Maybe when they go to Italy next year, they will take me. I’d also love to go to Greece again. Sorry, that was a little random, but Ali was telling me about an upcoming excursion to Greece. Oh, how I’d kill to see Santorini again. If I get married in my life, I’m having my honeymoon there.

So, as for other aspects about me that have changed, I may start becoming a morning person. I would love to start making more out of the daylight hours. Chances are when I get back, I won’t think anything of being a morning person when I start playing my XBOX 360 again.

Through the help of Dr Holme, I’ve also been able to point out a character flaw of mine that I knew I had, but was unable to pinpoint. I won’t go into too much detail as to what my flaw is, as I’m sure anyone reading this could suggest a few problems, but I’ll just say that I’m thankful to David for helping me understand myself better.

Living with Glen and Mehrdod has also been a unique experience that I will not soon forget. These two may be on polar opposites of the morals spectrum-- Glen being very reserved and gentleman-like, and Mehrdod being a wild, half-Persian, sex beast-- but they are alike all the same because they are both intriguing guys with important lessons to teach. Also, I consider both of them two of the best friends I’ve made in a long time.

Mehrdod’s sitting right next to me as I write this, but he’s clueless as to what my subject is. This guy, more than anything else in my life, has been a self-esteem booster. With my lack of experience, I’ve never really heard how I measure up to other guys; however, any chance Mehrdod has, he comments on how well-endowed I am. I’m also able to talk to him opensly about sex, which I’m not used to doing aside from with Elisa back home. One negative effect of living with him is that my libido is being worsened. Of course, I could blame that on bloody Roman fever. Hopefully the teachings of Glen will stem the strong tide of Mehrdod’s influence.

Glen Floyd is perhaps the most respectable young man I’ve ever met. Not only dos he have rugged good looks, but he has a sort of wizen silence about him. Whenever he speaks, you listen, and when he’s done talking, you’re glad to have heard him. He has an uncanny respect for females, which is rare for someone who is gifted with Glen’s looks; usually, good looking guys abuse their power, but Glen’s discipline is yet another aspect that makes him a model guy. I know I still have a lot to learn from him, so I’ll be sure to keep in touch with him long after this trip is over. Also, I’d like to see what type of lady he ends up with later on in life. Mehrdod and I both agree she’s going to be out of our league.

This is our last day in Rome. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ll be on a plane back home. I suppose I’m ready to go; I have been for over a week, but I’m really going to miss everyone on the trip. They’re like an extended family. The students from Iowa have already left, and today seems lackluster without them. John and Junior came into the room last night to give me a hug. I’m sure had I not been groggy, I would have been a sobbing little girl.

I have hope in my heart that this isn’t the last I’m going to see of these people. They’ve shaped me for the better and it would be unfair to let go of them so easily. Ah well, I better go make the best of this day.