Today marks my one month anniversary of living here. I've been through four roommates already, so that means I've stuck it out here longer than four other girls. It's tough fending for yourself at only 17. My newest addition to my Model Roommate Collection is a girl who doesn't know how to lock doors. Which would be okay if, maybe, if we lived in a hotel. But we freakin' do not. It's squished here (because it's Europe, duh)and we four girls share one bathroom and kitchen. Also, she moved my wet clothes from the drying rack so she could put her wet clothes up to dry: offense number 2. Seriously girl? Have you never lived with other people?
(Probably an accurate depiction of a Tokyo model apartment. I've been counting my blessings here in Milan, trust me.)
Finally the city-wide depression from losing the Eurocup to Spain has worn off. And I have a whole new vocabulary of the absolute worst Italian curse words thanks to my friend's screaming at the TV whilst watching the match. He was a good sport though to not break the TV itself. Italians actually don't hate anyone more than the Spanish.
It's around this time that everyone in Europe comes to Milan for the freakin' huge end of season designer sales. And I must say they are worth the plane ticket. Also American Zara is a complete (ooooh, bold!) joke compared to the original Italian one. It's literally 4 floors of heaven for l'donna and only one floor for l'uomo. Sucks to be a man [in this situation].
My return home is still tentative. I might go to Poland at the end of July to visit two of my Polish friends from Milan. Even though I want to be in Europe forever, I miss everyone. Including you. I will always be known as the Texas girl who *probably* rides horses a lot (I don't) and wears those "weird boots with small high heels" (aka cowboy boots, and I don't own a pair).
(Going out. Peace. )
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