In one hyphenated word: Life-changing

Ten countries, nine languages, five currencies, one semester.

I drove on Germany’s famous Autobahn, skied the Swiss and French Alps, drank Guinness in Dublin, saw the beaches of Barcelona, stood in Rome’s Coliseum, ate great pasta in Florence, hiked the hills of Cinque Terre, went to a carnival in Amsterdam, partied for Fruhlingsfest in Munich, visited the largest concentration camp in the world, sat in the stands in the best football stadium in Italy, cruised the canals of Copenhagen and perhaps best of all, lived for four months in a country that didn’t exist the day I was born.

I went to Prague with high expectations, never assuming they could be vastly overmatched. I was naïve. My semester abroad was nothing short of amazing. My perspective on life has completely changed for the better. I feel worldly, knowledgeable about subjects I never dreamed of understanding. I took the perfect classes. I learned all about the European Union, both politically and economically. My entrepreneurship class turned into a project for which I’m actually seeking investors and designers. Plus I learned some Czech along the way.

While abroad, I got some of my swagger back. I had a tough semester in the fall; I was so caught up in being the best journalist college newspapers had ever seen (an unachievable goal) that I forgot who I was and what life is all about (more on this later). I got really into the evolution of online media and technology, trying to understand more about Twitter, Stumble Upon, Digg, blogs and podcasts – words that I’m now seeing swiggly red lines under because they’re too technologically advanced for Microsoft Word’s dictionary.

Aside from school, I learned from experience of the best kind. I lived in Europe for four months. I met people from all over the world. I learned about the globe’s optimism for the Obama Era and the reason why Americans are so disliked (It’s sadly true: we really do live in our own bubble. How many European presidents can you name? They know all of our cabinet members). Living abroad has taught me how important it is to be worldly, well-rounded, knowledgeable about multiple subjects, not just sports. It’s cool to be able to actually discuss the issues regarding waterboarding or the impacts of new EU member countries joining the European Economic and Monetary Union.

Of course, I made a ton of friends along the way. I now have friends from Framingham, Cedar, Wisconsin and Prague, all of whom I can stay in touch with regularly via Facebook, a life-changing social tool. I’m going to miss the nights in Chapeau Rouge and the walks across the Charles Bridge. I had mixed emotions leaving Prague, but I knew my time in Europe was done. I left behind no regrets. Sure, I wish I had been more outgoing, because we all became friends after our trip to Poland in late April. I didn’t do as well in the girl category as I would have liked, but what’s done is done. I had the best experience of my life jam-packed into four short months. Now it’s time to turn the page. Allow me to explain.

During my last week in the Czech Republic, it all became clear to me. Life is one long autobiography. My whole life I hated change. I hated leaving Cedar and it was tough for me to adapt as a counselor because I wanted to be a camper for the first three weeks of that summer. I hated leaving my childhood friends in Framingham for college at first. Worst of all, until this semester, I was petrified of growing up too fast, dreading what comes next after this upcoming school year. Not anymore (although I don’t want to end my college career any time soon, but I know I will be ready when the time comes).

Like I said, life is about chapters, turning pages. You can’t be scared to close one chapter and start writing the next. I was sad to leave Prague, end my amazing European adventure, but I knew it was time to start a new chapter. I know this next chapter will include something great; it always does and I’m anxious to find out exactly what it is. There’s a happy medium between learning from past experiences and mistakes, and dwelling in the past. The former is essential in the book of life; the latter will get you in trouble.

Last semester I wanted to be the next Dan Shaughnessy straight out of college. I didn’t understand how the book of life works. Reading Mark Cuban’s blog helped me understand. He mopped floors at a computer company after graduating from Indiana. He bartended and slept on his friends’ couches in his mid-20s, all the while, learning, reading, understanding how things work, how life works. Now he’s a billionaire and owns the Dallas Mavericks.

I barely chose Wisconsin over Miami (Ohio). I wrote for the Badger Herald. I joined Delta Upsilon. I edited at the Badger Herald. Now my friend from DU got me a lead at NESN for the summer because of my experiences at BH. That’s how the book of life works. You write new chapters, new pages, occasionally flipping back for references, but never for too long. Blank pages need to be filled; new words on old pages would just create confusion.

I sit here in my kitchen and think about what just happened from February through May. It was truly life-changing, but I know I can never go back. And I’m OK with that.

It’s time to write a new chapter. I can’t wait for you all to read it.