Hannah & Julie
roommates, technically adults, writers on the side.
“There is nothing gutsier to me than a person announcing that their story is one that deserves to be told, especially if that person is a woman.” –Lena Dunham, Not That Kind of Girl Today my story looks like this: I heard “Going Down For Real” by Flo Rida in my favorite café over breakfast …
The bond formed between people who’ve been plopped into a foreign country where they don’t know a single soul is pretty unique to the study abroad experience, and it’s the stuff of fairy tales. Allow me to explain. So it’s a Wednesday like any other, no big deal. Except for the fact that you’ve just …
Hannah (8:44 am): Running on 3 hours of sleep, about to go tour all day and train home again tonight Hannah (8:45 am): Might die Julie (8:46 am): That sounds like the study abroad experience in a nutshell Julie (8:46 am): PUSH THROUGH YOU GOT THIS Before I came abroad, I had a lot of …
At this point, it’s probably not a surprise to you twelve dedicated readers that Hannah and I sometimes leave writing these posts until the last minute. In fact, we’ve been banking pretty hard on the fact that the East Coast is five hours behind in order to get these posts out on time. At least, …
chat, chatting (v): to talk in a friendly and informal way. I love to chat. I really do. Chatting over drinks, chatting at dinner, chatting in between classes—it’s a great way to pass time and get to know people. Now, I’m going to stop right there. At least half of you are already thinking about …
Most of the time, Ireland is a magical wonderland. You can sit on the top floor of double-decker buses and watch as they almost run over old ladies. You can buy a champagne-sized bottle of cider for 4 euro. They put milk and sugar in their tea. So I thought that maybe, just maybe, going …
To say I went skiing yesterday would be an understatement. “Skiing” is a thing I do a lot at home in New Hampshire. It usually involves frigid temperatures and scratchy turns and familiar trails and old friends. I know where the lodge is and my helmet plays my music through the earflaps and all signs …
Just in case I decide to write a memoir about my semester abroad that launches my career as a critically-acclaimed travel writer, I’ve been brainstorming possible titles. Here’s what I’ve got so far: How the Hell Do I Flush This Toilet? – a memoir of my study abroad experience These Hand-Dryers Are Garbage – a …
Holy crap there are so many things I want to tell you guys. I wore heels on a cobblestone street Saturday night. (Heeled booties, as my cousin/personal shopper Kristina would insist I specify, because they’re kind of like heels with training wheels. The heels are thick and “easy to walk in.” Hundreds of years ago …
I’ve known that I would study abroad since the first time I stepped onto UNH campus. It was a weird day. I’d already been accepted to the school, my state’s public University where a decent portion of my high school’s graduating class went every year. I knew from the minute I opened my acceptance letter that …