In which It is realized that there is one week left...

And I begin to freak out a little.

Not freak out bad. But freak out in a good. The best kind of freaking out possible: Packing. And what to bring. And more importantly, not to bring.

When I was little, I used to LOVE packing. I'd set aside clothes neatly folded in piles on the side a few days before my trip, until I realized, I had nothing to wear during that waiting period. Somewhere along the line, I started to hate packing. Maybe it was when I started buying my own clothes and shoes, maybe it was when my clothes started to become too big and too heavy to fit into a small plastic pink backpack for a weekend trip to Disney World.

Regardless, I hate packing.

I love lists and I love organization, but there's something about packing that turns me into such a procrastinator. I vow not to do that this time. And thus... I Google, "How to pack for Italy" because I am THAT lazy about this.

In which Clara has a very happy birthday.

This past Saturday, I had threw myself a dinner party for 7 of my close friends. As it was my first dinner party, I was a bit nervous and dorkily went all out with place settings and menus (printed on fancy resume paper).

It was particularly sweet to host my birthday party in the apartment, which has so warmly become home in the past few months. Not to mention all of my lovely, lovely friends, who thoughtfully came bearing gifts and cupcakes.

After snacking on some antipasti, cheese, and wine, we Feasted on roasted pork loin with port and fig sauce. And of course, we finished off with several desserts (it WAS my birthday after all-- and birthdays, like vacations, are an excuse to eat whatever and whenever you want!). A meyer lemon tart, dark chocolate brownies, panna cotta with fresh berries, and of course, courtesy of my roommate's new boyfriend (whom I now fully approve of), cupcakes from my absolute favorite bakery in NYC (Sugar Sweet Sunshine). The night's menu basically consisted of everything I wanted to eat-- but hey, it's my party and I can do what I want to.

I'm now another year older, this year has been pretty darn swell. Already a fine step up from last year!

My friends are such utter Rock Stars.

In which A day of many firsts begins.

Yesterday was my FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. I haven't had one of those days in awhile and it was nice to feel a bit of the rush of first day jitters. Although I'm clearly the youngest in the class, all of the other students seem really friendly and eager to learn.

(Sadly, our class is only two-hours a day, which is definitely not long enough to bust out my pink plastic Barbie lunchbox c. 1990.)

Our insegnante (teacher) tries to only use Italian inside the classroom, which is a challenge, but it really keeps all of us students on our toes. Surprisingly, even after the first lesson, I've become the young eager beaver in class, and even though I often turn pink and stumble on my words, it's a safe place to do so.

It's also my very first official post to this blog-- something I've been meaning to do for awhile! I used to blog quite often in late high school and early college with the rush of Xanga. Haha, somehow this feels more 'grown-up'.

And if anyone is interested in learning Italian in New York City, there are several great Italian language schools available, but I do highly recommend Parliamo Italiano on the Upper East Side. Helpful staff, amazing teacher, friendly students, etc.