A beginning, an ending, and the never-ending process

Let's start at the (very) beginning.
1. Name the movie and the character who...said...the above quote.
Classes commence on Monday.  Being very on top of things in an Italian sort of way, the international office emailed me yesterday--Thursday--to let me know which classes I am registered for on Monday.  Unfortunately, my level of Italian is not good enough for the class I was most excited about (think Italian language class + Italian cooking lessons with a famous Italian chef), so the international office threw that one out and registered me for a class I neither signed up for nor want.  So I'll have to clear that up.  Besides that, I'm excited to go start my semester!

The end of all things
2. Name the book (or movie) and the character.  This one's a little tougher, huh?
My Italian class has ended.  I took the final today.  I was a little late for it, but I'll get to that story in a minute.  Does it feel too soon for me to take a final, since I just wrote about taking a midterm?  Yeah, I feel the same way, but take it I did.  Speaking of the midterm, I got it back a couple days ago.  I felt like I did pretty well on it, so I was eager to get it back.  When I finally had it in my hands and looked at the 2 circled on top, I hoped the exam was not out of 100.  It was not.  The grading was as follows: 0-very bad, 1-pretty good, 2-very good.  I didn't even know you could grade like that.  I kind of what to become a teacher now just so I can get really creative with numbers and grading.

Never-Ending Story--I mean process
3. Name the mov... oh wait, I just did.
During orientation at Universita Cattolica del Sacro Cuore, the people helping the international students explained that we would all need to apply for a permit of stay.  They even had a session the next day to help us fill out the long and very complicated paperwork, and told us we had to just turn it in to the post office.  Just turn it in... yeah right.  I went to the post office at the same time as one other girl, and we were there for almost an hour.  We waited to be helped and then my number was called to counter number 2.  At counter number 2 was Santa Clause minus the coat, hat, and presents.  He hums more in real life than in all the movies.  Okay, okay, it wasn't Santa Clause, it was just a jolly look-alike.  What really clued me in was the fact that this guy moved way too slowly to be able to make presents for every kid in the world in a year, even if he did have elves to help.  Anyway, I thought I would be done with the application after turning it in.  Nope.  Santa set up an appointment for me at the police station to finish the process.  The appointment, as it turns out, was for today.  The same day as my final exam.  I told my teacher, and she said I could come late and stay late if I needed to, but since my appointment was set for an hour before the exam and the police station is about a ten minute walk from the school, I was hoping I would not be too late.  Foolish thinking.  I showed up early (Dad, are you proud of me?), let them know I was there, and sat down to wait with several other people.  About an hour later I called my friend to ask her to tell the teacher I would certainly be late, but didn't know exactly how late.  It was hard to tell since I was not able to track any progress.  I spoke slowly and annunciated clearly when I said, "Niki, can you please tell our professor that I will be late to our final exam?  I'm waiting at the police station.  My appointment was for an hour ago, and I don't know when they will be able to see me."  Figured it couldn't hurt.  You never know if an English-speaker with some influence is within earshot.  Shortly after that I was called into the office, where the woman told me that they could not process my paperwork today, so I should come back for another appointment on October 15th.  Yippee.

In other news, fashion week is starting in Milan, and there are lots of tall skinny people wearing cool clothes walking around the city.  As I walked with my friend down the street, we passed in front of a large building, and lots of important looking people were in front of it, apparently waiting for one or more vehicles to pull up.  There were the people who looked important because they were wearing fancy suits, and the people who were wearing casual clothes but looked important because they had laminated badges hanging from their necks.  There was a section designated for the press, and there were some expensive cameras in that section, lemme tell ya!  I wonder what was going on there, and who they were waiting for.

Oh, man.  It's raining outside and now my ceiling is leaking.  Drops are unrhythmically slapping the tile floor.  I guess the only thing to do in this moment is to put a bucket under it and go make some tea.