When my silly high school wouldn’t allow me to take French and Spanish at the same time, I took matters into my own hands; I enrolled in Second Year French at the local university, where I saw a red-haired girl with a bright white Obama shirt on – a brave move in a state that had voted Republican for 44 years before that election. I told her I liked her shirt and we became friends over the semester, secretly loving our French professor Brigitte’s ways of being super French in the middle of Indiana. So random, but we loved it. I moved away to New York City and Eirinn to Denver, and when I told her I was going to study abroad for a year in Paris to improve my French, she said those words we all hear when we’re studying abroad or traveling:
Can I come visit you?
The answer is always, “Of course!” but you shrug it off, because you know 80% of the time, they unfortunately never end up coming. With Eirinn, it was different. In mid-October of my first semester in Paris, she showed up with her best friend Amy for two weeks in Europe. I had just been “fired” from my job teaching English and was fully ready to skip out on lectures about French Philosophy to backpack around Europe by train. We took off to the South of France, Italy, Austria, and Switzerland – rotating between calling ourselves Dam, Aim, and Eir, and simply, the three Americans. Amy brought her bad b!tch camera and took photos of trip, which I’m so grateful for because it honestly pays to have friends who are good at photography. I can’t tell you why in each city Eirinn and I decided to do the same pose, reminiscent of the American Gothic painting, but I’m glad we have it as a way to remember the trip.
Florence, Italy Continue Reading