I'm in the University of Maastricht library at a long stretch of desks next to an aisle nicknamed "The Runway." Most what would normally be walls are glass, and thus everyone dresses their best to be seen by all, heels clicking away on the tile as you take your oh-so-important research to the copy machine. The security system here rivals that of American airports, complete with a computerized locker system and an absolutely absurd system of hooks and pulleys to bear-bag your jacket. There is an equally impressive machine that sorts plastic and glass bottles for when you finish your Evian water, and a Capuccino machine straight out of Star Wars to blast your nervous system into productivity.

Outside, though, the streets are sturdy cobblestone and there are relics from the Roman empire to the medieval past sprinkled all through the town. There are riverboat cafes, and best of all, impeccable bike lanes that are even included on the traffic circles. I walk everywhere and on good days people even flatter me by thinking I'm a native. The town is usually full of students, but in a good way. There are 'more bars than days of the year,' for better or for worse, but thus far everyone seems to be far more sophisticated about it than in the States. I've been spending most of my nights with my wonderful Turkish roommate, Duygu, and all of her equally adorable Turkish friends. A few weeks ago we went ice skating and managed to sustain a limited number of non-life-threatening injuries. La vida es buena.

Duygu usually sleeps all day in our IKEA-furnished dorm room while I spend my days nine to five in a seminar with the infamous Professor Samatar. Even though I went into the program with plently of philosophical issues and even some resentment for higher education, I got a lot of out of it and I am really glad that I came. Samatar and I come from such completely different mind-sets that I learned a lot from him, and I still have plenty to chew on. More on that later.

I completely left out the beginning of this fairy-princess existence! I went to Venice to spend New Year's with Amanda at her uncle's apartment. Even though I was a little overwhelmed by certain displays of extravagance, it was at least not over-consumptive. We ate fantastic food and took our time getting dressed up and visited a cute old lady with salsa music and persimmons in her front yard to share. Amanda's Italian cousin, her boyfriend, and a guy named Alessio came for the night, and I fell completely in love with them. We squeezed our way into San Marco square to watch the fireworks, felt the sprinkles of champaigne coming from popping bottles, and pranced around the Rialto with sparklers. There is nothing like a few days with Amanda to remind you how great it is to be alive.