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Ever since going to the midnight premiere of The Lizzie McGuire Movie in 5th grade, my obsession with Italy has been no secret. Not for the amazing history. Not to see the place where my ancestors lived before they traveled to America. No. I wanted to travel to Italy and be mistaken for a rock star, ultimately preforming at the biggest awards show of the year next to a beautiful (but deceiving) Italian singer named Pablo.

By the tenth time I saw the movie, I got the hint that it never could happen. My dreams were crushed, but I continued to watch the movie to live vicariously through my 5th grade idol, Lizzie. By the time I was in high school, I started noticing the beauty of Italy in other ways than Pablo. The Trevi Fountain, the Coliseum, the Spanish Steps, all the beautiful gardens and piazzas. Ah, the view from my living room couch was incredible.
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