Just another traveling twenty-something with a blog.
Guns, shootings, confederate flags, expensive drinks and food.
In a nutshell, that’s what I’m dreading about coming back to the U.S.
Every time I hear of another shooting back home it breaks my heart. This is a frequent conversation amongst my friends here, especially those who are European. They do not understand why it is so easy for people to acquire guns and why our government does little to stop them.
My response? IDK, my bff Jill?
Why not? Why not look to countries like Spain, England, etc, where there is little to no gun violence.
Sure, a few months ago a teacher in Barcelona was shot with a crossbow, but that is really it. There’s pickpocketing in Barcelona, but other than that there is really nothing to worry about. I feel more comfortable here walking around at night than I certainly do in New York.
To get off that depressing subject….I’ll miss the food. I’ll have tortilla and patas bravas withdrawals. I’ll miss being able to walk everywhere. Since I’ve finally begun to understand Catalan, I’ll miss hearing the language. I’ll miss my extremely long breaks and not thinking about dinner until 9pm. And of course this beautiful city.
I’m going to miss my friends the most. I’ve been really lucky to meet some amazing people here that live sprawled across the world. #thankgodforgroupchats
What am I looking forward to?
Seeing my friends and family. Sleeping in my own bed in a room with a window. Driving. Curly fries, trader joes, bagels, peanut butter forever, salad bars, cheddar cheese. BBQing with my family. Target. Not needing to ration the internet on my phone. Drinking water out of the faucet. Obviously, seeing my rabbit. Maybe attempting to sit on a horse. Baking.
I’m headed to Paris tomorrow, which I am so so so excited about. After I come back I only have a week left in Barcelona! Wowwowowowowow. It’s crazy how six months turned into nine and that’s it. I’m trying to get my life in order and plan where I’ll be over the next two years. I’m giving myself two more years of figuring life out until I start grad school. Why two years, you ask? So I am eligible for health insurance and don’t accidentally twist my ankle and go into serious debt. Oh, the health insurance conversation. Europe definitely wins at that again, sorry ‘Murica!!!
Anyway….See ya soon America, see ya even sooner, Paris!!