Growing up, I used to tell my parents that I wanted a kitten for Christmas. When I went to see Santa, I’d make sure he knew too. Year after year went by and I opened up more toys and clothes. Those toys eventually turned to new iPods and phones, and most of the clothes turned to gift cards. It wasn’t until this past Christmas that I got a kitten at 22. 

She was purrrfect, everything I could have ever wanted and more. I still replay  Christmas morning in my head at least once a day. 

My parents and sisters, Julia and Camryn, all kept texting me asking when I would come downstairs. “We need to get your big gift ready,” my Dad had said. 

My Dad is never to be taken seriously. He speaks in straight sarcasm 99.9% of the time. I curled up under my covers, trying to sleep in longer. Then Mom called me to ask when I’d be down. It wasn’t even 7 yet. I rubbed my eyes, groaned and rolled out of bed. 

When I came downstairs, our little gray kitten, Stormie was hissing at my presents. I figured she was just excited about Christmas. Perhaps all of the wrapping paper and commotion freaked her out. 

I turned around and my mom had her phone fixated on me. She filmed everything on Christmas, so I didn’t think much of it.

I noticed Stormie was actually hissing at a particular present and that it was partially unwrapped. “Stormie, how did you get into that?” I questioned her. 

My family was chomping at the bit begging me to start with that present. I put it in my lap and pulled out my phone to take a picture of Stormie, who was still hissing at it, but was in prime position for a ‘baby’s first Christmas’ picture. 

“Oh my god.”

“Open it!”

“Hurry, I’m running out of space on my phone.”

My family was really hyped up over this one  present. I finished unwrapping what I thought Stormie had started, only to find that it was a cat carrier. 

“Wowwwww.... you guys are so funny.” I rolled my eyes. Then I felt something moving inside the carrier. 

“No way!” I was in shock. I tucked my head down in front of it to find a tiny orange kitten. I was quick to pull her out and hold her tight against my chest. Then I started crying. 

I don’t think I’ve ever cried tears of joy, except in that moment. I was in love. I kept telling her that too. 

“I’ll name her Sunnie.” I decided instantly. 

“Thank god,” my mom and sisters exchanged a glance. 

It was really a no-brainer. My mom, sisters, and I had been talking about how Stormie needed a friend for a while. She always tried to play with our two big black cats, Hobie and Ninja, but they never gave her the time of day. 

“We could get an orange one and name it Sunnie,” my mom had jokingly said a couple months prior. 

I loved that idea and had told her that a big adoption event was to take place close to home soon. I never once thought she’d go. 

The beginning of Sunnie’s story starts in my family’s point of view. 

Sunnie was from a shelter in Georgia and had been transported up to Delaware with 1000+ other animals for a mega adoption event. 

Mom, Julia, and Camryn walked into that event, looking for a Sunnie. They sought a female orange kitten, which is actually pretty rare. Only 1/4 orange cats are girls.

Nonetheless they found her. At first they had been looking at a couple older orange male kittens, trying to decide if one would be our Sunnie. Then, out of nowhere, Julia spotted a tiny orange ball of fluff, curled up, sound asleep, and tuning out the entire world, from a cage all by herself. 

My sister scooped her up and help her tight until she could regroup with the rest of the fam and get in line to fill out adoption papers. 

The papers they brought home noted that Sunnie was born in Georgia on September 13th, 2019, and that she had already been spayed. A medical note stated that the litter she was from had a diarrhea issue that had since been taken care of. One of the kittens also had a limp at one time. We still don’t know if it was our baby Sunnie. 

My family hid Sunnie from me for the next few weeks leading up to Christmas. She lived in Julia’s room. Julia’s door was always shut, so I never questioned why she turned me down every time I asked to come in her room during this time. The door was always locked and she always told me “Go away! I’m wrapping Christmas presents!” She sure had a lot of presents to wrap. 

There was even a time Sunnie went to hang out at my grandparents house for a couple days when my family worried she was getting too antsy and that I would hear her playing.  

All in all, they were successful in making Sunnie the best Christmas surprise I’ve ever gotten. 

Unfortunately, she turned out to be more of a Christmas angel. That’s what I tell myself. Baby Sunnie was an angel sent to bring me joy and fill me with love at Christmas time. She was too perfect for this world, too precious to stay for too long. 

Sunnie was 6 months old when we found out she had Feline Infectious Peritonitis (FIP). From what I understand, FIP is the result of a mutation of Feline Enteric Coronavirus (FECV). FCoV is a virus that affects the gastrointestinal tract. Most infections are asymptomatic or cause diarrhea. Diarrhea very commonly occurs in kittens. Thinking back to Sunnie’s medical history, it makes too much sense. 

FIP is one of the most complicated feline viruses. Scientists today have yet to find a cure. One of Sunnie’s vets told me that’s because they still can’t figure out what causes the disease. It could be that some strains of FCoV are stronger and more prone to mutate as they continue to infect the cat. It could also be the cat’s immune system. Though the disease kills roughly 5% of cats, kittens like Sunnie are the most impacted because their immune systems are not yet strong enough to fight it off. In the end, it’s basically a death sentence. 

What scientists have found is that FCoV is common where large groups of cats live together. We gave Sunnie a home with three other cats. They mingled and shared litter boxes and food dishes. However, before she got here, she was exposed to thousands of other animals. She could have caught the virus from her own mother for all we know. 

The thing is, most cats have some strain of coronavirus. The mutation is what’s rare. Sunnie was a rarity. She was part of the 25% of orange cats who are female and she was part of the 5% of cats who contracted and succumbed to the symptoms of FIP. 

Sunnie’s first symptom was the diarrhea. Hers was laced with blood. My boyfriend and I took her to the vet on Valentine’s Day. He suggested it was a diet issue. She had recently gotten into the older cats’ food. He prescribed an anti-inflammatory to make her feel better. The diarrhea may have subsided, but a month later we had her back in there... only to receive the same treatment. 

The third week in March, my Mom pointed out that Sunnie was pretty lethargic. She was moping around, hardly leaving my bed. She did venture to the floor sometimes, only to sit in loaf position and stare at it. At this time, we also noticed that her bloody diarrhea had come back. 

My mom called the vet and he said “maybe it’s parasites.” Without even seeing her, he prescribed her something to treat that. 

“No, no, no.” I told my mom that was unacceptable when I came home from work one day. I couldn’t believe he would prescribe her another treatment without even seeing her. “We need a second opinion.” I said. 

Sunnie started going to a new veterinary hospital that‘s definitely more advanced and more equipped to diagnose rarities like FIP. 

On Sunnie’s first visit, this vet ran bloodwork. She had a high count of white blood cells, which of course indicated infection. The vet put her on antibiotics for this. Any virus was TBD. The vet told my mom her globulin levels were still low for FIP to be likely. The vet then took Sunnie in the back for an ultrasound and to give her fluids. 

My mom googled FIP and texted me an update. I called her crying, asking what that disease was and how we had never heard of it, considering we had had cats our entire lives. 

”How would she have even gotten that?” I had asked.

“I don’t know. You just have to pray that it’s not.” My mom said. 

Together, we picked Sunnie up from the vet later that day. The vet tech told us she had a fever that went down a little with the antibiotics, but then came right back up. 

A fever that is seemingly resistant to antibiotics is another symptom of the disease. That was something I had read online. I had been doing my research, trying to rule out FIP. 

The vet told my mom that an ultrasound allowed her to see fluid in Sunnie‘s tummy. “A pinkish, creamy fluid can sometimes build up in their tummies when they have an infection,” she said.

The vet also said that a straw-colored fluid would indicate FIP. She said she could take a sample of these fluids if the Sunnie didn’t get better and FIP still needed to be ruled out. 

At home, Sunnie slowly stopped eating and drinking. That vet appointment had been on a Tuesday. The very next night, my boyfriend and I whisked Sunnie away into the night and headed to the animal hospital during emergency hours. 

My mom had pointed out that her fur coat was looking dull and that she had hardly moved that day while I was at work. She advised us to go back to the vet and tell them the medications weren’t helping. So we did. However, the vet tech this time told us that we hadn’t given the antibiotics long enough to work. 

“But she’s getting worse!” I started to point out how she was lethargic and that her eyes were droopy. I even told them I heard her sneeze and that her breathing was heavy like she was congested. 

This vet tech and my boyfriend both tried to calm me down and tell me that there wasn’t anything to worry about. They told me that these were minor symptoms of a cold and to give Sunnie’s meds a chance. 

Yet Sunnie continued to loaf around, staring at the floor. Her eyes got droopier and when I woke up to check on her that same night, she was curled in a ball as if she were sleeping, but her eyes were open and her breathing was fast. 

I tried to tell myself that she just had a cold and that she would be fine by the next week. I knew I was lying to myself. I felt it in my heart that she was slowly saying goodbye to me. 

I started the replay Sunnie’s three months as my little girl, searching for signs of the disease. I was finding them in everything and I knew I wasn’t being paranoid. 

From the time we got her in December to what was now the end of March, she had only gained a pound and a half. Some of that weight gain was honestly probably from the fluids because she didn’t appear to be any bigger. We always thought she was just always going to be a small cat. Perhaps she was the runt. We’ll never know her true size. She’s frozen in our minds as ‘baby Sunnie’. 

I also noticed that Sunnie didn’t eat much to begin with. More times than not, I had to throw her hard food away at the end of the day because she had hardly nibbled at it. I dumped almost an entire water dish out every evening too when I went to change it. 

Sunnie’s personality was all too similar to the kitties in the articles I had read online, articles by others who have lost a dear kitten to an incurable, awful illness. She was the most cuddly and loving little cat I’ve ever known. She was never playful like a kitten usually is. Stormie would always try to provoke her to wrestle or play tag, but Sunnie wasn’t interested at all in playing with our other kitten, who we had intended to be her friend. 

Other articles have said that FIP kittens are the sweetest. Perhaps they don’t have the energy to play and choose to curl up and love on their humans. Perhaps they’re using our bodies as a source of heat, since they’re also known to be anemic. (We often found Sunnie cozied up on top of the floor heater.) Perhaps they know their time is limited and want to spend as much time as they can just loving on everyone. Sunnie definitely loved on everyone she met. 

My other cats have always been pretty shy and flighty around strangers, but Sunnie would instantly jump in the arms of and kiss any stranger that approached or tried to pet her. 

My boyfriend and I treated Sunnie like a daughter. We’d take her buh-byes in the car and even to the beach. She’d willingly wear a harness and walk around with us. My other cats have freaked out and either alligator-rolled or tried to escape when we’ve put them in a harness. 

Sunnie’s favorite spot to hangout in public was the Dogfish tasting room. We’d take her in her carrier and with her leash, but we really didn’t need to. Sunnie would sit content in my boyfriend’s lap while people at all levels of intoxication would approach us and ask to pet her. Sunnie would purrr in pleasure and rub her face against any stranger she met. Again, my other cats would be fighting us and trying to run away. Sunnie became a regular at Dogfish. She was adored by the staff and every customer who spotted her little orange self sitting there. 


I knew these adventures were too good to be true. Sunnie was the calmest, most loving cat I’ve ever known. Her underlying disease may have been why, except we’ll never know when or how she got it. 

Three different vets told me that. They wanted to make sure that I didn’t blame myself for what happened, that I knew there was nothing I did to cause it and nothing I could have done to save her if I had known. 


In her final hour, I begged the vet who would put her down for an answer. I wanted to know why my baby had fallen victim to FIP and how I could save her. I also wanted to make sure he was certain that’s what she had before he inserted the needle. 

This vet had been present to see the sample of Sunnie’s fluid. “The only other reason for a straw-colored fluid would he heart disease, but she doesn’t have a murmur,” he told me as my giant tears coated her fur. 

I hounded him for a cure or treatment plan. “What if we gave her blood transfusions, fed her through a tube, gave her vitamins, antiviral supplements,” I listed possible treatments I had researched. 

“You have to ask yourself, is the small chance she would survive worth her suffering?” He said. 

I know there is no cure for FIP. In some cases, owners had been able to prolong their cats’ lives. However, in many of those cases, the cats had the dry from of FIP. Sunnie had the wet, which typically ends lives faster. 

I still refused to believe this was it. The vet told me in his professional opinion that euthanasia was the best thing I could do for her. “It’s like a gift,” he had told me. 

A gift? I hadn’t even wanted to take her that night. This was only the Saturday of that same week she started to show symptoms. My boyfriend and I couldn’t get her to play with us at all. She didn’t want to cuddle like she usually did and she seemed to be avoiding us, secluding herself to her little brown cat house and refusing to come out. Her breathing had gotten so labored that it sounded like how a person breathes in their sleep. 

My family didn’t want her to suffer and honestly, we didn’t want her to die while we were asleep or not home. So my boyfriend and I whisked her away to emergency hours three nights after that other time. 

I was starting to come to terms with the fact that our baby Sunnie was already gone. She had been throwing up her antibiotics and not getting better. All three vets I spoke with said I needed to let her go, and so I did. 

Sunnie’s death is the most tragic thing to have ever happened to me and it will take a while for me to accept it. My boyfriend and I spent about two hours in the emergency room with her, comforting her and reliving all of our happy times with her until the end. 

Once the euthanasia serum was pumped into her leg, the vet put a stethoscope to her heart. I cried silently staring down at the table in front of her, unwilling to watch her stop breathing. Her heart stopped beating in under a minute. “She’s gone,” said the vet. My tears came faster as I sobbed into my boyfriends hoodie. The world was spinning and I sat down with my eyes closed until I heard the door close and knew they had taken my baby away. 

As I went through half the tissue box in the examination room, I replayed Christmas morning in my head again. I saw myself pulling Sunnie out of the cat carrier and holding her to my chest, teary-eyed with joy. How could those tears of joy turn to sadness just three months later? How could this have happened to her? Why did this happen to me? My cat? So many questions had me floored as I opened my eyes and looked at the world with hatred. 

I think part of me will always be angry and upset about what happened to Sunnie, but I am learning to accept it. She wasn’t meant to live in that body or stay here for too long. We saved her when we gave her a home back in December and we saved her from her misery in March. We were just as much her world as she was ours. The love she spread here on earth will live on in the hearts of everyone she touched. 

Now as I look at her paw prints in the cement slab the animal hospital gave me and I look at the picture of her in her little Christmas dress, I wonder if my little angel who came to visit at Christmas could come back to visit again. I have to believe she’s somewhere watching and waiting for me to scoop her up and hold her tight to my chest again. 

​College is about discovering who you are. From day one, the foundation of my education and my self-discovery was set in courses on communication theory. It was a requirement for me to study topics like the principles of communications theory, and communications and interpersonal behavior for my major, but it was almost as if these courses were necessary to open me up to terminology that would become all too relevant to my life and relationships within it.

​Sometimes putting together an entire outfit can be a daunting task, especially in the menswear department. Guys will admit that it’s slim pickings compared to all the ladies have to choose from at the mall or let alone in their own closets. Accessorizing an outfit can be as simple as swapping out one element for something bolder. F.H. Wadsworth has emerged from New York City with their collection of men’s belts to do just that. 

Pastel-colored chinos have broken back out onto campus this semester. Generally frat guys and jocks alike opt for a functional leather belt to hold them up. F.H. Wadsworth’s ribbon belt gets the job done and it comes in a variety of prints, colors, and materials. This provides the opportunity to wear school colors without wearing collegiate apparel. That aside, standard salmon chinos are a staple in the collegiate menswear. This color stands out in itself, but the right belt could provide contrast and become the focal point of a look instead. The black and white polka-dot belt in this look reflects the color of both the polo top and footwear. White polka-dots make it pop, drawing all eyes to a newfound belt trend. 

​Khaki shorts are a business casual tradition amongst the male student population. They’re an easy go-to whether it’s going to class, a club meeting, or even out with friends. What’s great about khaki is that it matches virtually anything. Take this blue striped shirt for example. The contrasting blue hues that adorn this top appear to make the outfit. The same color is even replicated in the sneakers. But wait, a belt by F.H. Wadsworth was used as the focal point in this outfit as well. The “Gibson” ribbon belt silver tone D-rings flash in the light and draw in all attention. The color scheme is standard navy and white with a twist; orange creamsicle was dyed into the majority of the ribbon, making this belt stand apart from the rest. 

​There are no more excuses for bland male fashion with these belts trending. A texture is available for everyone with ribbon, leather and even velvet posing as options. Dark-shaded belts can be selected to blend into a more neutral look, while bright tones of red, blue, green, orange and more can be used to adorn the wardrobe of a trendsetter. 

As cliche as it sounds, that piece of advice is what landed me a position as a junior reporter at Fox 29 in Philadelphia. I had applied to internships within their newsroom twice without being selected. I had a friend who was in the junior reporter program, who encouraged me to try out for that. Fox 29's HR department also informed me of the program and invited me to the initial interest meeting.

​Twelve of us came to Market Street in Philly one afternoon in December to meet with the producer and learn about how to audition. We were given two weeks to pitch three story ideas. If they liked our ideas, they would green light us to go out and produce it. It would be due within two weeks after we heard back. 

There was an upcoming send off show for competitors at the United States Figure Skating National Championships. I pitched that. I also had fallen in love with the new cat cafe in Philadelphia and wanted to do a story on that. My third idea was to feature a local jewelry business in Newark, DE that is part of a larger organization, Water is Life Kenya. The founder had come to speak in one of my fashion classes in the fall, so that's how I learned about that. 

Fox gave me to green light for Water is Life Kenya. Here is the package: 
​

A few weeks later, I learned that I was not one of the 5 or 6 selected to participate in the program. While the quality of my shooting, editing, and reporting was up to par, the package was lacking in interviews and seemed too much like a commercial for the store versus a feature story. 

Luckily everything worked out internship-wise for me and I ended up taking a position with WHYY's "On Tour" show for the spring semester and one with WRDE Delmarva's NBC station for the summer.

In April, Fox 29's HR came to speak in my documentary film class. She informed us about the junior reporter program and said that auditions would be taking place soon. I spoked to her after class and she encouraged me to re-apply and to not give up. My professor/advisor also encouraged me to audition again as it is a very good program that can land students on market 4 television. 

Taking the feedback from my previous audition, I went through the process again. This time, I was asked to do my pitch on the 1st State Ice Theater team. I incorporated 4 interviews to this package and kept it concise and to the point. This time, I was 1 of the lucky 4 to be admitted into the program. Watch my package below:
​

Spring semester of my sophomore year, I took on an internship at CollegeFashionista as a Style Guru. My duties included writing monthly fashion articles about trends seen on my campus and taking pictures with a DSLR to coincide. Once the posts went live. I promoted them on my personal social media platforms, practicing personal branding. 

My all time favorite post went live back in March. The inspiration behind it stems from Halsey's song, "Colors". The post is titled, "Everything is Blue", fitting the theme of my article in which I'm covered in blue clothing and accessories. I've always liked the color because it matches my eyes, but the connection I made to it and the lyrics of Halsey's song really rang true deep in my soul. 

You were red. and you liked me because I was blue
But you touched me, and suddenly I was a lilac sky
Then you decided purple just wasn't for you

This one's for everyone out there who has ever fallen victim in the same scenario. Did they flood your phone with texts and Snapchats around the clock? Did you receive endless compliments because they wanted you to believe that you were special, that they cared? Did you eventually start to believe it was all real, that fairytales could come true? I did. Once you were hooked, in too deep to turn back, did they cut you loose and set you free? That's what I thought. Go free, my friends. We're now part of the lilac sky, flying freely and watching over everything else that is still blue.

Spring semester of my junior year, I had the option of overloading on credits and graduating early or taking less classes to leave room in my schedule for an internship. I had applied to a few places within the Northern Delaware/Philadelphia area. When I got called in for an interview with WHYY's "On Tour" producers, I was offered the job on the spot! I knew that I had to take it. 

The right decision had been made. Most of my time this semester was spent outside of the classroom at the University of Delaware. I spent much of my time with my internship, figure skating, the student fashion magazine, and the student television network. This was crucial so that I could gain as much experience before I graduate. 

Commuting to Philly for an internship was simple. I took the Septa twice a week from the University of Delaware. I got everything I wanted out of the internship and more. The producers treated me like a member of the crew.

My activities included: 

• Pre-Production
  • Researching Artists
  • Brainstorming Potential Interview Questions
• Production
  • Public Relations with the fans
  • Gathering fan emails
  • Operating the DSLR
• Post Production
  • ​Making Quicktime DVD's 
  • Making DVD Menus
  • Making Final Quicktime DVD's
  • Making DVD Dubs
  • Photo Shop
  • Facebook Posts

One day after class, the other girls on my trip and I dressed in our most appropriate clothes to blend in with the Spanish culture. Since temperatures peak in the 90’s everyday, the locals are often seen in lightweight, breezy clothing. Flowy pants, blouses, sundresses, and jumpsuits flourish the streets of Salamanca in bright yellows, whites, and peaches. Taking inspiration from the Balenciaga Summer Resort 2016 runway show, I slipped on my black and white flowy pants with a bright yellow tank top. My friends followed along wearing vibrant dresses, skirts, and rompers. We went to el Huerto de Calisto y Melibea as well as a cathedral for our photo shoot. The garden was most appropriate since it is the location where Fernando de Rojas wrote La Celestina, a work we read in Spanish literature class, to take place. I was able to showcase how Americans and Spaniards share similar styles as my friends and I wore our clothes from home in this shoot. These styles just so happened to be nearly identical to some worn around Spain. ​

On my birthday, I went to Zara, which is a popular European clothing company that originated in Spain. I bought a pink collared tank top, a cropped top, and a halter-top onesie. Each of these matches the high-waisted denim shorts I also bought at Zara that day. These four items cost me les than 30 euros altogether. While onesies, cropped tops, and high-waisted shorts are popular in America, they are nearly the same in Spain. The only thing I noticed was that the clothes are cut a bit differently. For example, my pink collared tank is not fit to form the body and therefore just hangs above my waistline. The onesie fits my body perfectly, but the elastic isn’t quite tight enough to keep from flopping forward. That being said, this article of clothing requires a tank top or bandeau to be worn underneath. ​

​Another day out shopping with friends, we encountered a bohemian store not unlike those at home. Every jumpsuit and sundress was made out of a different patterned fabric. I had been meaning to try the jumpsuit trend since arriving in Salamanca, so I tried one on and instantly fell in love with the look and the comfort. It’s lightweight, flowy, easy to move in, and the blue tribal pattern matches my eyes. The tag indicated that the company was called Zoe and that it was exclusively made in Mallorca, Spain. 

The next shop that day to catch my eye had mannequins in the window, adorned in lacey blouses, pastel colors, and sequins. My friends pointed out that it definitely had my name written all over it. It was called Vestido de Vega. I tried on several items and ended up buying the purple sequined ¾ cardigan that had originally caught my eye. I matched it with a short sleeve white lacey blouse. Everything was 30% off so this purchase was also under 30 euros. ​

​On my weekend excursions to Portugal, and Barcelona, I observed the fashion trends there as well. In Portugal, there was handmade cork jewelry at every other store or little stand. I bought a bracelet for myself, my mom, each of my sisters, and some friends back home. In Barcelona, my friends and I decided to get really dressed up before going out to dinner that night. We learned that on Saturday nights, people wear their most glamorous clothes. Anything other than high heels for girls was seemingly against the norm. Most of us had tried to pack lightly for this excursion since it was only one weekend. However, in the same city in which both Fashion Week and America’s Next Top Model are held, we decided that it would be in our best interest to do a little shopping before the evening got started. There was a mall by our hotel and we bought new clothes and shoes at Zara and H&M. I was surprised to see that many popular stores in the U.S. also held a great influence over the fashion culture in Spain. Dressed up in black and shiny clothes with our highest heels, we went out in style that night. 

​Seeking out fashion trends first helped me to dive into the Spanish culture by observing and then helped me interact by shopping. A huge part of studying abroad is interacting with the local culture and I did just that by going to Spanish and European stores and speaking Spanish with the salespeople. Two of them even complimented my Spanish speaking skills and I surprised myself by being able to hold a conversation with them in Spanish all throughout my purchases. I got to practice my Spanish, fashion, and communication skills all in one within this study abroad program. As I leave to return to the United States today, I have no regrets, knowing that I just gained both the experience of a lifetime and a lot of newfound knowledge about myself. 

After mentioning my ice cream craze to my teacher abroad with us here from UD, she told me that her children enjoyed going to Valenciana. It’s a cute little ice cream store down a side street from the Plaza Mayor. They have a variety of flavors in gelato, frozen yogurt and milkshakes. You can even choose from a wide selection of toppings as well. I went with my all time favorite flavor, menta de chocolate (mint chocolate chip) and paired it with a chocolaty looking flavor called “avellana” hazelnut. This ice cream was a smooth and creamy sweetness that wouldn’t feel sticky and heavy in the heat. It was just as creamy and fresh as UDairy but once again the portion sizes were a lot smaller. I liked this store because there was seating and air conditioning inside which was a nice escape from the hot summer sun. It was 7:30 pm and the sun was still high in the sky because it doesn’t set in Spain right now until between 10:00 and 10:30 pm.

Other ice cream brands I’ve tried in Salamanca are Disfrútale, Carte Dõr, Heladería de la Plaza, and a few at sit down restaurants. Carte Dõr is sold in many ice cream shops, leading me to believe that it is a chain. Other chain ice cream brands that I’ve encountered include Valor and Amorino. My friends and I went to Valor on a weekend excursion in Burgos, Spain. They had a wide variety of ice cream-topped desserts from crepes to fruit to frozen chocolate slush. I ordered quite possibly the most chocolate-filled option on the menu. It had a chocolate syrup base, with frozen chocolate slush on top of that, and a scoop of chocolate moose and chocolate ice cream to sit on top. Adding to the chocolate aesthetic, they even capped it off with a little Valor chocolate candy.

Out of all the ice cream I’ve tried this month in Spain, none can match up to Amorino which I had in Portugal. Even after globalization, this ice cream chain is not available anywhere close to where I live in the United States.  Portugal was the first and only time I ever found it. What I like so much about it is that you can pick as many smooth and creamy gelato flavors as you want and have them pasted around an ice cream cone to make a flower shape. I got chocolate sorbet, Nutella, mocha and stracciatella swirled around into my ice cream bouquet. I used their store locator later that night and found out that there are four locations in New York City. Next time I’m there, you can bet that I’ll be reminiscing about my ice cream adventures abroad by customizing a new flower bouquet to satisfy my sweet teeth in the United States.

As a Style Guru for CollegeFashionista, I am responsible for writing a monthly fashion article, even while abroad in Spain. I took to the streets to observe the styles around me. Bright colors are definitely in and since temperatures peak in the 90s everyday, the more flowy the clothes, the better.

My friends and I went out with my DSLR for a mini photo shoot. We all wore our own clothes that blended with the styles here. Many girls run around in summer dresses of many colors and patterns so that they can minimize the layers of clothes (and heat) on their bodies. Maxi skirts, flowy pants, and rompers are a custom. Scrappy jumpsuits are in here more than anywhere else right now. (I have added one to the souvenir list.)

We took many photos en el Huerto de Calisto y Melibea. It was only fitting since we are currently reading Fernando de Rojas' ​La Celestina in Spanish literature class and that's where part of the story takes place. 

Cropped tops are especially popular in America right now with all of the music festivals. They're just as common here in the Salamancan heat. One of my classmates from Delaware shows a monochromatic style that contains colors of the garden. This look reminds me of something out of a fantasy novel in which the protagonist flees to a peaceful garden for some time to herself. Her high low skirt allows lots of moving and breathing room to avoid the sticky summer air. A cute up-do is a wise way to beat the heat, while still looking dressed up. Who says you can't be pretty and comfortable in the scorching temperatures? This look is finished off with both neutral and teal jewelry. The teal bracelet reflects the same monochromatic look while the dark gold necklace balances out the tan gladiator sandals, creating yet another monochromatic theme in one outfit. 

I love the colors of this dress and how they reflect the brown and red hues of the antiquated cathedrals. Maxi dresses can be worn on a variety of occasions. Whether it's a night on the town, a day to the pool, or you just feel like dressing up for class, maxi dresses are a must. Feet clad in strappy sandals surround me when I look down. The people here walk everywhere. I sometimes walk 15-20 miles a day to class and around town, so flip flops would wear my calves out after a while. Dressing up at night, especially Saturday, is the norm but high heels made their way into daily attire long ago. The heels pictured above provide support in a similar way to flat gladiator sandals. While they may be supportive enough to walk around town in, I don't dare try a pair since I trip at least 3 times a day on the cobblestones of the old streets while wearing flats.

Reflecting the colors and pattern of the architecture of el Convento de San Esteban, this dress is sure to catch a lot of attention. The intricate paisley print is highlighted with a silver statement necklace and several rings. Bold prints are trending all over the world right now, especially in Spain. The black gladiator sandals contrast against the lighter print on the dress to make it pop. Gladiator sandals are very popular here because they allow the feet to remain open to the air while being safeguarded by a few buckles. It's impossible to have too many cute dresses or gladiator sandals. Dresses can be lightweight and comfy and they can be worn on almost any occasion in Salamanca. This particular dress reminds me of something worn out to a nice dinner or party with friends.  

Nightlife is very prominent in Spain considering dinner isn't served until 9pm and most people don't go out until 11pm. Jumpsuits and rompers are both a staple in any young woman's wardrobe here. Bright colors that pop are worn throughout the day and then darker articles of clothing are revealed at night. The open-shoulder sleeves of this romper are unique and the dark lace on the back gives off dressy vibes. Once again, black gladiator sandals are depicted for a night on the town but they complete any look throughout the day and remain to be good walking shoes. Cross-body bags are essential for city life, especially while in a foreign country. They make for hands-free shopping but they are also good to have so that you can swing them around to the front of your body and keep watch over your personal belongings. 

Once again there is a stark contrast between the vibrant colors worn during the day and the solid classy shades of black and white worn at night. I've noticed that denim flourishes sections of the stores around Salamanca. From jumpers and rompers to skirts, dresses, or pants, denim is a look of its own. The white denim skirt pictured above presents the same trend with an American twist. I've yet to encounter white denim here, even though I brought white denim bottoms of my own. This skirt especially pops because of the contrast with the black cropped top and black gladiator sandals. Black gladiator sandals are so prominent here that I went out to buy a pair of my own. That is also because when I arrived to Spain, I quickly realized that flip-flops would do no good. 

Packing for a month long excursion in Spain with only a suitcase, a duffle bag, and a backpack was a daunting task. My instincts were to bring an outfit a day in case I wasn't able to wash my clothes here. I quickly realized that I was only traveling to another country, not another time period and decided to eliminate a quarter of the clothes I had been trying to stuff into my suitcase.From a fashion project I did during the spring semester, I had researched Spanish fashions and learned about all of the lively colors they are accustomed to wearing. It was also to be noted that with temperatures in the 90s everyday, lose and sheer fabrics would be my best bet. Much like American trends, Spaniards tend to wear both floral and tribal patterns in a variety of colors. A pop of color is highly necessary for my daily attire here. It was hard to pack too many shoes and accessories, but I managed to bring a pair of flip-flops, gladiator sandals, ballet flats, and sneakers too so I could keep up with working out. In hindsight, I packed the wrong walking shoes and too much jewelry, while forgetting some of the essentials like Advil and bandaids. A few days in and my flip-flops already ripped blisters onto the tops of my feet. My ballet flats wore down quick and my gladiator sandals were teal and couldn't be worn with every outfit. I debated on wearing sneakers everyday but decided that my feet got hot enough in them when I ran so I needed to give them time to air out throughout the day. When my friends and I embarked on a shopping adventure one day after class, I bought a pair of black gladiator sandals in the first shoe store we saw.

Just in time for my twentieth birthday, I finally made it out of the United States. This summer marks the end of my teenage years, my first time out of the country and the longest time period I’ve been away from my family. It’s a test of independence that comes with new adventures and daily learning experiences.