First Day of School (and more)

I finally had my last, first day of school, and, as you can imagine, it was unlike any other first day of school I've ever had.
I started class at 9am and sat through my first 2 hour lecture. I spent the first 20 minutes hoping it was the right class. Once I decided that it was, I spent the next hour and half switching off between really trying hard to listen and understand, and looking out the window, thinking about what I was going to wear tomorrow, what I wanted to be when I grow up, what would happen is the US government shut down, when I was going to go to the grocery store, etc.
After a short break, I went to my second, 2 hour lecture. This one was much better as about 1/4 of the students are exchange students; so the professor speaks fairly slowly and clearly.
Then, without any break, I went to my last 2 hour lecture. Needless to say, by the end of the day, my brain was fried. It's like doing an intense math problem all day without taking a study break. How do you think your head would feel after that?!
My last lecture was the hardest, because my professor would say things like, "A good example of this concept (which I had been desperately trying to understand) is in the book called [fill in some Italian classic that every Italian knows but no American would be expected to know]." It would be like saying to an Italian, it's just like To Kill A Mockingbird, which almost every American has read in high school, but probably no Italian has ever heard of. Interestingly, I discovered that Italians read a translated version of Robinson Crusoe in high school.
Our UC study abroad coordinator assures us that in 3 weeks, we'll be able to understand everything in the lecture. The problem is, lectures only last 6 weeks here! So what happens when the professor asks me something on the final from the first 3 weeks. "Oh, sorry prof. That's from the first 3 weeks when I was still learning italian. Can you ask me something else." (Luckily, I have both American and Italian friends in all my classes, so I think I'm going to be ok. But still...)

Some other funny things have happened. I can remember if I've blogged about this before, but I live with a group of Catholic Italian students who all live in apartments near each other. Every year at the end of September, they switch apartments and roommates to reorganize as people graduate and new students come in. So, I just switched apartments and roommates this past weekend. I miss my old roommates a lot, but my new roommates are also lots of fun. And it is hard starting all over again, getting used to new roommates, new apartment, new buses, ect. (Someone get me a tiny violin...) And because of this switch, the most embarrassing thing happened to me the other day. I live in an apartment where there are 2 sides that are exactly the same. I went to the one that I thought was my side and began to try to open the door with my key. Of course, my key didn't fit. And of course, at that moment, the guy who lived in that apartment came and asked me what I was doing. The worst part was, he wasn't a stranger: I had met him earlier that day at lunch because he is part of the same Catholic group. I obviously wanted to sink into the ground, and the only thing I could think to say in Italian was, "Where do I live?" And of course, he didn't know. The truth is, it was so awkward at the time, that it wasn't even embarrassing for me, it was just really, really funny. *cringe*

Some fun stories about my new roommates:
Italians don't eat leftovers, at least the ones that I know. Coming from a family where extra food is made precisely so that we can have leftovers, this is a very strange thing for me. But it has its benefits. My roommates were about to throw away a whole pot of delicious pasta. I begged them to let me keep it, and they finally agreed. As I was packing it for my lunch the next day, one of them asked me how I was going to heat it up and I told her I was just going to eat it cold. I was thinking that I was so lucky that I was going to have a delicious, cold, pasta salad for lunch. But instead my roommate told me that I couldn't eat cold pasta. What was I thinking?
And then there is the dinner time. My roommates and I all have dinner together every night-- this is so Italian. Dinner starts usually around 8:30 (or whenever everyone is done making their food, which is a bummer when you finished first and your food gets cold waiting for the last person) and doesn't finish until closer to 10:30. It's very different, but it can be really fun. It gives us lots of time to talk and talk and talk. They are very excited that I'm going to bake them chocolate chip cookies, pancakes, and zucchini bread (shout out to Grandmamama!). Fun fact, did you know that the word for zucchini in Italian is actually zucchinE. We also talked about Thanksgiving, and they asked me about the traditional Thanksgiving food. It was impossible to describe stuffing. It's hard enough to describe in English, considering I have never made it before, but absolutely impossible to describe it in Italian. Another funny food story is when my roommates went to McDonalds (which they call Mac) and ordered a quarter pounder. I first had to explain to them what quarter pounder meant, and then we went around the table each one trying to pronounce it correctly. After a good 20 minutes, only one of them had it, sometimes. My new roommates... :)
Happy Birthday to my dear, dear sister, Therese!!! Buon compleanno e tanti auguri! Ti amo!!