Dictator's log: Wednesday. June 30. 5:18 P.M.

Dear Reader,

This will be my first post to you via Italy. After a long and rather frigid airplane trip, I finally arrived in Florence. My team and I were quickly hustled into a long line of taxis that were ready and waiting to deliver us to what would be our Italian homes for the next 7 weeks. As soon as the driver pulled away from the airport, however, she immediately begun asking dozens of questions. We all stared at her blankly. Note to self: when planning to conquer a country, be sure to learn the native language. After getting our little.. (i don't even want to call is a miscommunication, because there was no communicating happening whatsoever).. non-communication matter settled (thanks to another english speaking italian taxi driver who was summoned over for help), we were whisked away towards our humble abode. You know how in the States, pedestrians have the right of way, and cars are to yield unwaveringly to them? Yea, well that doesn't happen here. Cars plow through the streets like it's a racetrack, and pedestrians can either move or be made into pudding. Tapioca pudding. I digress...

Our rigid class schedule won't commence until next tuesday (6th of july). Until then, we have orientation, walking tours, and Friday the entire group leaves for Venice. Dear Reader, when planning to overtake a country, always go for the water. So naturally, this is an essential part of my Tour. Tonight we have a grand gala at a fancy nearby hotel (they say it's a welcome party for the entire group, but both of us know it's to welcome yours truly). While I am immune to many of the challenges that often befall the unprepared traveler, not even I can fight Jet Lag. Even after a two hour siesta this afternoon I still have yet to adjust to the time difference. This evening's festivities should conclusively take the last drop of energy out of me. But alas, such is the life of an aspiring world conqueror.

Countdown: T-6 hours.

Dear Reader,

The day has finally arrived. As I finalize my packing lists, carry-on, and other essentials, I can feel the excitement rising inside me. Yes, this is going to be good. Real good. I will not arrive in Florence until tomorrow (tuesday) around 5:30 p.m. Italian time (that's 11:30 a.m. in Ohio). This will give me plenty of time to not only rest, but to also plan and plot for my impending crusade of Italy. My travel companion? Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. Let the games begin.

Countdown: 5 days.

Dear Reader,

As I sit with my back to an old wooden bench and stare across a lush green field, decorated with the occasional wildflower, and immediately followed by a rippling pond that is being gently caressed by a swaying willow tree, I am reminded of one thought:

I cannot write.

Or maybe I should say that I cannot write well enough to describe the magnificent landscape of our family farm that surrounds me. I could go on for pages and pages about the geese and their goslings peacefully floating around the pond, every now and then having to readjust after the wind has blown them slightly out of the way. But i would never be able to get you, my Reader, to see these animals exactly the way I do. So, I have come to the conclusion that I'm not even going to try. If you want scenes of my adventures, please refer to the appropriately named "photo albums." Besides, I have far better things to write about than trying and failing to describe all of God's creations.

This trip to our family farm marks my last official leave of absence before my Tour De Force. It is almost the calm before the storm, if you will. I had planned on a little R&R on my brief sabbatical, but as I sit here, with the gentle breeze blowing through my hair, the harsh and rather tone-deaf melodies of my siblings' singing reach me. Quickly followed by my brother tipping over the hammock and all it's occupants promptly dumped on the grassy terrain below. This is going to be a long day.

Countdown: 7 days.

Dear Reader,

This being my first official posting, i would like to first and foremost welcome you to the wonderful (albeit slightly crazy) world of Eliza's brain. Here you will be able to track my days in Italy and the many adventures that are sure to ensue (told by yours truly, of course). My countdown is rapidly diminishing, a thought that is both exciting beyond belief as well as nerve-wrecking, panic-inducing, and yes, slightly scary. Never fear though, I shall prevail. To quote Hitler, "Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not deserve to live." Okay not really, but you get the idea. Unfortunately, I am not nearly close to being ready for this trip and what's worse, I have no intention of doing anything about it. While my mother productively searched flight schedules, made hotel arrangements, planned out weekends, and prepared other details of her ten day visit to Italy in mid-July, I spent the majority of my day sleeping on the couch. I tell you, the life of an aspiring dictator and world-conqueror is hard work.