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As my eyes slowly cracked open, I took in the room around me. Oh that’s right! I wasn’t in LA. I was in Florence freaking Italy!
As my eyes slowly cracked open, I took in the room around me. Oh that’s right! I wasn’t in LA. I was in Florence freaking Italy!
Not looking at art in Florence is like going to Disneyland just to check out the gift shop.
The tastes, the textures, the people, the air itself, all felt like a thing to which I belonged.
**The following post is part of a much longer piece about my 2014 trip to Italy. It will be a 3 or 4 part series so stay tuned!** It wasn’t until that girl was wrist-deep into my shorts that I even realized I was being pickpocketed. It was nothing like Ocean’s 11 or any of…
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