Plus ça change...

This is an actual, completely unredacted journal entry from four years ago. It's in the orange journal purchased in Italy--the one where I live in Florence, move back to the States, and contract a whopping case of the spring-crazies.

April 7, 2003

"Ummmm... what am I going to do with my life? Perhaps California for grad school... hadn't really considered it before, but the weather would be so nice... Maybe I should take some art history classes. Perhaps I could just read books. Would Milena write me a letter of recommendation? Milena, Trudy, Paul? Trudy, Paul, Deb. Aaargh... how is it that I never actually went to college? In any case, I work and play well with others--that usually counts for something.

Dove' vai? Cosa farai?

Today was unbearably Monday. Snow, gray skies, work... bleh.

Ter & I went to Sherwin Williams, Dick Blick, T.J. Maxx, and Penney's. I bought pastels. How exciting!

Aaaargh... what am I doing with my life?

11:21

Maybe if I wrote a novel, that would count as a "writing sample." If I actually published it: so much the better.

11:22

There are a lot of good memories in this journal; maybe my favorite one is the note taped to the inside cover, written in blue ball-point pen on a fragment of folded notebook paper, with "To: Cerie/ From: Your Secret admirer." on the outside:

Hey!

I'm going to miss you like crazy, your the greatest! Your the best italian speaking American and I have to let you know you inspire us all. I can't imagine having a better roomate, in fact I don't want another roomate, After you leave no one's allowed in our room.

Love ya,
Annie*

That, and the way I didn't know what to do with my life, so I thought maybe grad school in art history would be a good idea. On April 1, after writing that I had turned down an invitation to study clinical psychology at another university, I wrote, "Sta sera, sto pensando: sono giovane. Perchè non studio la storia dell'arte, quella che mi piace molto? Potrei essere una professoressa o una scrittrice. Qualunque cosa vorrei. Forse si deve fare quello che ama. E perchè no? Ma è difficile, certo. Ci sono tanti, tanti decisioni! Ci sono altre cose, anche--soldi, per esempio. Ma... va bene."**

I'm not sure whether to be disturbed or refreshed at how little has changed.

* Who I've also quoted, inside the front cover, as exclaiming, "That damn cook! I wish I had a kiwi!" (If memory serves, the context involved looking out our window and wanting a projectile--though I don't recall the provocation.)

**Babelfish-able, if you're ambitious.