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Halloween In Barcelona
Sometimes ditching the plans and going to a random house party is a great move, but other times it is just gut-wrenchingly weird.
When I was a young 19-year-old, I studied abroad in Barcelona. I’m quite proud of it because my tiny private university didn’t have a program to study anywhere besides Finland — it’s a long story why. So, at eighteen years of age, I marched onto the campus for my first semester, found out who the study abroad coordinator was, and told her I was going to do whatever it took to study a semester in Spain: full stop.
I have never been that driven or known what I wanted to do in this life. But, when I look back and see how younger me made that semester abroad happen, I feel a sense of pride. I can see that I have been following my heart and pursuing something. I do have a vision for my future; it has simply been too nomadic to fit into a general life plan. I have since found writing and will undoubtedly, as income or not, continue to pursue it until death.
So, my mayhem of a semester in Barcelona… I was nineteen freaking years old. Looking back, I should have gotten robbed, robbed again, and swindled for my kidney, but somehow, I made it through completely unscathed, although half of our study abroad program did get something stolen.
