The End and the Beginning: Around the World and Into Myself

If you are considering an Education Abroad experience, visit their office on the first floor of the Science Library, check out their website, and/or stop by the Education Abroad Fair when it takes place during the Spring and Fall semesters. Whatever you do, get the information you need. There are options for every budget.  What may seem impossible, might be highly probable!

Cinque Terre

Last semester, Erica Bertucio shared her study abroad experience in Italy. These are the last three installments of her series, “Around the World and Into Myself.” If you were wondering what happened to the lady who flew off of the ATV in Italy, your wait is over.  For context, you may want to read Mountains & Broken Things: No Stopping Me.  If you are ready, read on!

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Mountains & Broken Things: No Stopping Me

Update, #SPRANGBREAKKK was a major success. But then again, how could ten days of Greek Island hopping be anything but amazing? Ask my bruised thigh, pride, or my swollen foot. They are not my biggest fans at the moment so I am sure they will be happy to tell you. 

Bring on the Next Obstacle

Alright ya caught me. I have been A1 slacking with this blog the past couple of weeks, however, I can assure you this uncharacteristic shadiness comes with some painfully original excuses. Leaving that one open for interpretation ,we will pick up right where we left off…

The weekend after channeling my inner Julia Roberts throughout Napoli (only the real ones will get the “Eat Pray Love” reference), and gaining new affirmation in Roma, I was back. I gotta say, finding your way to the self you know you are, after such shaky grounds, is a damn good feeling. So good, in fact, my spontaneous nature was set on overdrive. Having had an especially busy week, it was not until Wednesday night that I realized I was free to leave as soon as I could shove my backpack through the door.

Commercial Break:  Italian apartment doors are notoriously slim, the reasoning for which remains to be determined, because… well… Italian cuisine, man!  It’ll get ya and you won’t even be mad about it! I have not felt this bloated since I was a “husky” tomboy in middle school. And by that I also mean as a regular female in high school… and kind of freshman year… and a little bit now again too. Haha! It’s not that serious, thanks to the exercise that is traveling. Still, it is so beyond refreshing to be able to laugh about the extra couple inches, rather than fixate on every little calorie. I realize that to the average person, that probably does not mean much. But to the girl, who low-key, kicked a long-term, yet all too well hidden eating disorder not so long ago (in London, believe it or not), that is a hell of an accomplishment. Like I have said before, traveling is so much more than the seeing of sights. For a lucky few, yours truly, happily being one of them, it is the platform for healing, and eventually the ultimate medium for self-love.

Clichéd Experiences or Something More?

I guess it’s true. Time really does fly when you are having fun. I am not even apologizing for the cliche, because if you have been following this series, you know that cliches are to be expected.  Back at home, even before returning overseas, “tumblr quotes” were merely a platform for jokes in my eyes. Of course, some of them were so, hilariously extra and they still are. Disobeying such a direct order from the universe to use them would be a disservice to us all, and that just will not do.  #InWittyMockeryWeTrust

I am also a fan of hashtags.

But here,  “here” being not only Firenze, but countless other magical cities across Europe; the very cliches I once smirked at are the ones I find myself exuding more, and more intensely every day. Though I felt it for three weeks last year in London and have been feeling it for even longer this semester, I still struggle to describe this feeling, this “it”. 

Sky High

So, I did it. This past weekend we traveled to Interlaken, Switzerland – the extreme sports capital of Europe –  and I freaking did it. After a picture perfect venture, with some fast but surprisingly genuine friends, I took the ultimate plunge, and skydived over this gem of a city. And let me tell you, it was worth every single franc. It was not what I had initially hoped, no; it was truly far beyond I could ever have imagined. Indescribable, really. Which is great because, although I do not regret any part of it, I sure will be making QUITE a few coffees at Dunkin Donuts this summer to recuperate my bank account. Maybe, for the purposes of writing this post, it being “indescribable” is not the best thing. But, for the purposes of my life and that experience that will stay with me (forever, I hope), “indescribable” is perfect.

Tragedy & the Transformative Power of Travel

Throughout the first two posts of this series, I shared some of my past hindrances, as well as my present successes. Now that we are a little more acquainted,  I think it is time to get into something deeper.  I was saving this post for a rainy day, if ever I was to write it. Plot twist: It may, very well, be the sunniest day yet, here in Florence. On top of that, my trip to explore and skydive over the Swiss Alps, specifically, Interlaken, the extreme sports capital of the entire continent, departs in a few hours. So yeah, maybe I am just feeling a little extra ballsy today by writing this post now. One of the reasons I decided to write for

Interlaken

Project MyStory, in the first place, was to force myself out of my comfort zone. Now, I am writing about the worst day of my life, while I am  getting ready to  fling my body out of an aircraft from 14,000+ feet. I am doing this for a blog that is (haha – nervous laugh),  showcased on the front page of UAlbany’s website. In the endeavor to self-progress, “backing out” is no longer an option. Accountability is everything. Believe me, you, sweet reader, are helping me as much as I hope I am helping you, whoever you are. So screw it, open book, people!

More than a Program

Today marks the one week point of my hundred-and-five day study abroad program,
here in the beautiful little city of Firenze. Funny, as I write this I realize just how arbitrary the word “program” has become to me. Three months ago, I was practically shouting from the rooftops about this “program” had been accepted into. Saying that every other breath I exhaled, clung to the phrase “study abroad program,” is less of a dramatization than I care to admit. But now, I cannot help but eye-roll at this past self of mine. By no means, out of embarrassment by my initial excitement; I have been immersed in this fairy tale long enough for it to be reality and believe me I am shouting louder than ever.

Around the World and Into Myself

Hey guys, My name’s Erica and I’m a sophomore here at UAlbany.

To be honest with you, I am not even sure anyone will ever even see this (I mean really how many people do you know would choose some basic nineteen year old girl’s blog over that lit twitter fight?) Well, for those of you who do, what’s good? Oh and before I even get into whatever spiel this ends up being, I’d like to clarify my less than scholarly descriptor words back there. More often than not, the terms “basic” and “girl” strung so closely together paint a picture of hashtags and Starbucks — or #Starbs, if you will (SO insta worthy btw). Now don’t get me wrong I’m as much a fan of social media, and anything that rivals my now increasingly irritating job (@Dunkin) as the next person. But, the Erica everyone else has come to know, and inevitably love (What can I say? I’m great!), you too will soon realize, is anything but a basic girl. You see, here, “basic” refers to my past. I grew up in your traditional white-picket-fence realm of suburbia, raised by traditional parents in a traditional family of five. But really, even as my own fingertips graze this keyboard with the intent of sincerity, I know that “traditional” is just a frilled way of saying average.

Again, please don’t get me wrong, I appreciate this upbringing. The close-knitted community blessed me with more than I could probably ever fathom. It saved my family in a time of tragedy, a story, I will  save for another day. I would not change my years in that small Connecticut town I call home for anything .

It all started just over a year ago: I was a first semester freshman, performing averagely in my, mostly gen-ed classes. Apparently getting accustomed to the academic shift between high school and college did not come nearly as naturally as the social one had. Personally, I blame frat houses. I mean they’re just so clean and tame and it’s almost like heels were tailored specifically for those rickety spiral staircases! I’m sorry I literally just cannot help but laugh at that one. But I could not, solely, blame the staircases  for the damage my body had, undeniably, absorbed. I went from the palest white to black and blue REAL QUICK.