Hey guys, it’s Jenine, and, confession alert: study abroad ruined my life. I know what you’re thinking: what could twelve whole weeks of galavanting around a foreign country eating exotic foods and partying every other night have possibly ruined for me? Let me break it down.
- Fettuccine Alfredo. I can’t eat it anymore, and it isn’t because I had a far superior rendering of the dish in Roma. I just simply cannot bear to think of Alfredo, the Italian model who took me on several dates, moonlit strolls, and fed me fettuccine out of an earthenware bowl while we watched the sunset through the windshield of his Fiat.
- A fun night out. Everyone knows European dancepop outshines anything this side of the pond. I can’t enjoy a night at the discotheque with my girls without my ears being assaulted by an American-produced beat. To make matters worse, I get a tension headache every time I hear a song in a language I understand.
- My vision. Many a late night spent watching classic shows from box seats at the Teatro dell’Opera put an incredible amount of strain on my eyes. Now I have to walk around with a pair of stick binoculars just to see two feet in front of me.
- Dating. Sure, I had a slew of foreign suitors waiting to sweep me off my feet, but I’m pretty sure about half of them were only attracted to me for my accent and/or citizenship status. I’ve lost all hope of finding a man who respects me for how well-traveled I am.
- My mind. It’s so open and receptive now, I literally can’t filter anything out! This includes little factoids that no one wants to hear, every detail of current Kardashian drama, and asbestos dust that falls from my ceiling and settles in between my little brain craggles.
Ary by Cornellius Robbins