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My Weekend--yes, I said WEEKEND, in Florence, Italy.


Before I begin this short narrative, may I begin with the fact that I hope one day, everyone finds their "Christina."

I called her the day before I booked my flight (which was about 3 weeks ago) and half-joked, "wanna come to Italy with me?"

she responded with "obviously," and I didn't take that too seriously. But when I told her I booked the next day, she was insulted I didn't wait for her.

Me: So we are actually doing this?

Christina: Yes, I told you, Obviously! Seriously.

Me: ...you're seriously my best friend.


 

As I am writing this, I can't help but think that this time last night, I was still in Italy, packing up the rest of my belongings and dreading the journey back to reality.

As sad as I am that my little adventure came and went, I am even happier that it actually happened.

Why? OH, well, because, I ***thought*** my passport was in my top drawer; I decided to check two days before departure to confirm, and to my anxious surprise, it wasn't there.

I tore my room apart. I went through garbage. I called everyone that could have possibly remember seeing it. Uh-oh. I may be screwed.

I put my pride aside and asked my mom to help me look, and after hours of here re-tracing my steps and not finding it, I knew I was going to be screwed.

Now, it was the day before departure and my passport was still MIA. Who do I break the news to first, my "little" who I was visiting, or Christina, who was accompanying me and dropped money on a plane ticket...

Christina was first.


And somewhere in between that decision, my friend Corey texted me and I wasn't in the mood to make small talk with anyone. I told him I was at work and had to focus on figuring out a way to get to Italy. And honestly, thank God Corey texted me, because he lead me everywhere I needed to be.