This is a huge mistake. My mind was racing with disastrous scenarios as I approached my gate. Looking around, I saw two other students sitting in the waiting area. Great, I thought to myself, the three losers who arrive too early and I’m one of them. In my haste to get to JFK, I had given myself too much time, and now I would be stuck waiting in this terminal for hours. I sat down on the small, springy airport chair and looked at the girl sitting across from me. She had long, straight brown hair, a huge Louis Vuitton bag and a silver knuckle ring on her middle fingers. She was reading A Room With A View; our study abroad assigned reading intended to prepare us for life in Florence. I had gotten as far as the first chapter before I tossed it aside and declared it useless. How was a book written in the fifties supposed to prepare me for modern-day Italy?
Typical NYU ideology.



