Neve

So, I guess that snippy little comment I made about not missing trudging through the snow in Worcester upset the weather gods...because they decided to show me what was up yesterday.
When I got out of my language final (that went very well, thanks for your prayers, kids) it started snowing here! What?! Didn't I move to the Mediterranean? Apparently that doesn't mean what I thought it meant. (I thought it meant it didn't get cold). And it has been quite nippy this week. (I can't use that phrase without imagining Clark Griswold in that department store...) But I had no idea it was going to result in an actual snow storm. Dealing with the snow has been annoying, but it's almost worth it because the Italians reacting to it is HILARIOUS. I mean, I'm not pretending to be a snow-expert. I haven't forgotten that I'm from Visalia, California. I remember that epic day in January 1999 when snow stuck to the ground and school was canceled. (I've chosen to block out that St. Paul's had a teacher in-service that day and we didn't technically get a snow day...) But back on track: I have spent the last two winters in western Massachusetts, and I've seen how this stuff is supposed to be handled. Spoiler alert: Italians are not prepared for snow.
The whole city basically shut down yesterday. There were no cars on the road. No buses were running. In fact, the buses that were running pulled over to the side of the road and abandoned ship--as if it were the apocalypse. For some reason I loved the snow-covered scooters. That's something I don't think I'd get to enjoy at home. I sat in my room yesterday listening to all of the little kids in my building having snow ball fights and making snow men in our parking lot. Pretty hilarious. I've never really been able to enjoy the snow like this because at school everyone is miserable at this time. And, I guess we don't have little kids or dogs to laugh at as they romp in the wintery wonderland.
Although the Italian "system" (i.e. plows and public transportation) was not prepared for the storm, there were some individuals who were more than prepared. Like this jackass skiing down the side of the road last night. Are you kidding me, sir? Or the hundreds of Florentines wandering around the city in MOON BOOTS today. They're actually Moon Boots. They're even CALLED Moon Boots. Less stylish than usual, guys. This city is always breathtakingly beautiful, and it may be even prettier dusted with snow. Maybe.

Today, Liliana and I exchanged Christmas presents. I regifted a set of soap and lotion that someone gave me when we were at that villa in the country 2 weeks ago. I mean, I put it in a bag and stuff. She didn't know. And she gave me this. Yep. Freakin' awesome butterfly make-up case. Complete with glittery lip gloss and eyeshadow. Things that my real mom wouldn't let me have when I was 10: that. Lils is pretty much the cutest little lady ever. I bought Francesco and Mario this movie called "Amici Miei" that they talk about all the time. I'm gonna miss these goofballs when I leave for my epic Christmas adventure on Monday.
I can't believe I leave on Monday. December 20th has always seemed so far away. But, I guess you can't really argue with the chocolate advent calendar...dude's lookin' like a grocery store in Poland. (Thanks for that phrase, Modge.)
On Monday evening I will be arriving in Palma de Mallorca (it's okay. I didn't know what it was either http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Majorca) and meeting up with everyone's good friend Quirky. The two of us will spend a lovely Christmas honeymoon for 6 days in Palma before we head to Barcelona until the 30th. To ring in the new year we're heading to Paris to meet up with a huge group of Holy Cross study abroad kids. Apparently it's the thing to do every year. On January 3rd Quirky and I, joined by our friends Katie and Carolyn, will head to Berlin for 3 days before I return home to Firenze and begin miserably studying for my Museology final in January. Not a bad Christmas break, right? I absolutely can't wait. So much nonsense will ensue. Don't worry, you'll hear all about it.
Pretty weird that I won't be in the V for Christmas, though. I know I'm missing the Christmas party tonight. I hope someone e-mails me a picture of my dad in his red pants. This will be the only Christmas I spend away family and friends, though. I can handle that. It just means I'll need to make up for it in years to come, suckers.
But really, I love and miss you all. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cubgWvBfs24
The only thing I don't miss: Pops' weird Irish Tenors Christmas CD.
Baci

Buone feste!

Important side note: we asked a group of Asian tourists to take this picture. We figured, who will think this is least strange? Because, let's face it, it was pretty strange. And we decided we were safe asking Asians.
So Adair and Jenna each gave their camera to a fanny-pack toting tourist and we posed like the adorable family that we are. However, I noticed part way through the photo shoot that there were not two, but three cameras capturing this momentous occasion. "Oh, hello, Asian man with the pink Cannon Powershot. I hope you got me from a good angle." I hope that pic framed on his mantle.
So, here's to you and yours.
From, our little Florentine family.

Nothing in particular

Long time no talk, faithful followers.
I kid, I know basically only my mom reads this--and even then I have to remind her to.
It's been vewy vewy quiet around here lately, hence the lack of updates on my shenanigans.
But everything is still going very smoothly, cannot believe that it's December 9th already. How did that happen? (Alright, I know I say that every few weeks, but it really does blow my mind.) It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas around these parts. In fact, today I decided to walk around my neighborhood and put Johnny Mathis in my headphones as I enjoyed all of the lit-up store windows. However, it was approximately 60 degrees today. So, it doesn't feel like my last two Christmases. Can't say I miss trudging through the snow, Holy Cross. Sorry.
Speaking of things that are sweet about not being at school: yesterday was the Feast of the Immaculate Conception or the "Immaculata". Again, something that is not acknowledged in the U.S. of A. I blame the Puritans. But it was a "festa" here, and the lovely people at CLIDA decided to take us into the countryside in Chianti to an amazing villa/winery for lunch. Casual...It was so beautiful! We had an amazing lunch, tasted delicious wines, and wandered around the grounds of this incredible Tuscan villa. I've decided I would like to own one eventually. Not a bad lifestyle, I don't think. Naturally, my plans to marry a Columbian drug lord are already in the making. Any objections? Lovely.
When I got back from my walk this afternoon, though, I was greeted by a little red bubble on my e-mail informing me that I'd received a message. Who's it from? Oh, just some ridiculous Italian man that Jenna and I met at a bar on Saturday night when I was watching the Civil War (GO DUCKS!) This guy was an absolute riot. When he asked where I was from in California, as all Italians do--even though if you say anything other than San Diego or San Francisco they stare at you blankly--he replies, "Oh, is that near Fresno?" (keep in mind, all in Italian) Because apparently some Italian basketball player left to play for Fresno State. "ze Bulldogs" Yeah, man. "Ze Bulldogs". Anyways, he sends me this e-mail just kinda asking what's up. Because he got my e-mail address off of my facebook. Italians, you need to relax. Please pay extra attention to the very last line. Since I'm sure the rest of the Italian nonsense doesn't mean much to most of you. Out of control.
Last weekend we went to see Fiorentina (Florence's soccer team) play Cagliari (evidently this is a place in the south of Italy. Sounds like Canada to me. Va bene) It was a lot of fun. Although soccer will never compare to college football, Fiorentina fans were absolutely out of control. Luckily, we were surrounded by American college students...so we didn't get caught in any scuffles. Just looking like goofy ass posers decked out in scarves and beanies that they bought 10 minutes before the game started. You can't see my jersey in this picture, thank goodness, and I apologize for my bare back. I guess I didn't need to share this picture. Woops.
I thought Francesco would be impressed with me for going to the game, so when I came home I showed him my ticket and told him how fun it was. He told me that the people at the games are mostly Americans nowadays. Long story short: he wasn't impressed. Maybe he was just upset because Katja had left that morning. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the girlfriend from Ukraine came to visit last week! More awesome awkward host family stories.
The first night she was here we had a fancy dinner. I'm talking, we had a tablecloth out and everything. The Rizzi's had met her once before- she came to visit this summer when they started dating-I learned. But this was the newest member of the family's (I like to consider myself) first encounter. It quickly became obvious that as much as I tried to pretend like I lived there- serving her food, telling her to try stuff, asking if she needed anything- that the real Rizzi's still consider me a guest in their house. Pretty hilarious. I mean, it didn't stop me from acting like Francesco was my older brother and I needed to grill her. Nevermind that, though, because our conversation quickly turned to politics, then to Russia, and then I learned that the story of Anastasia ISN'T TRUE. Thanks, Katja, come in my house and crush my fantasies, why don'tcha?! Liliana was really upset too, actually. It's fine. I saw the mail order bride a few more times over the next week, but we didn't have any other significant interactions.
So I'm currently just kinda hanging out. We have three more classes of Museology. Thank the Lord. And another week of language class until our finals next Thursday and Friday. That blows my mind. I hope you're all praying for me. I need it.
As usual, miss and love you all. Baci!

Venice and Thanksgiving!

Hello, all! Sorry it's been a little while since my last post. I was waiting for significant things to write about. Last weekend Adair, Jenna and I ventured to the romantic city of Venice. Spencer had his own little adventure in Barcelona--so being free of the little testosterone in our daily lives--we decided to enjoy Venice in a "Mom's weekend" fashion. And, believe me, we did.
Mom's weekend for us meant: taking 2-3 hours to eat meals (obviously crushing bottles of wine in the process), going to bed early, sightseeing, and jewelry shopping. "The City of Water" provided a perfect venue for said activities.
Unfortunately the hostel we booked wasn't located "on the island of Venice"--as the snippy lady at the information counter so kindly informed us. Our hostel was in normal Venice. Must less picturesque. Lesson learned: Googlemap hostels before you book them. After we checked in we learned that we were staying in a 4 person room instead of a 3 person room. Oh, hey, strange Mexican girl. How are you doing? Sorry that Adair's sitting on your bed... Yep, conversation went something like that. So we went out to dinner to escape from our roommate. Three hour dinner--only people in the restaurant--ordered dessert. (fat 12-year-old Lauren did cartwheels) Got it.
The next day we went to ACTUAL Venice and wandered around with our friend Stacey who studies with us in Florence. It really is a cool city. I couldn't get over all of the crazy little canals and bridges, or the fact that because there are no cars on the island public transportation is a ferry. We had a good time window shopping at all of the fun glass shops--and running away from all of the terrifying stores with Carnavale masks on display. Not into that at all. The weather on Saturday was nice. Yep, I made a point of saying that because the weather on Sunday was NOT nice. Water below us--water above us...this calls for Skippers.
That happened. These are the crazy-immigrants-who sell things on the street's dream come true! Ten euro for a pair of these outrageous knee length waterproof "boots". But look how fashionable we looked wading through St. Mark's square, with water mid-calf. I really couldn't believe it. Quite an experience. I'd say the Skippers were one of the highlights of Venice. We looked like such assholes. (Excuse my language, but it's the most appropriate word, I promise.)
This week was pretty uneventful. Pretty cold and rainy--a little depressing leading up to Thanksgiving. Until we started planning our holiday potluck at our British friends' "flat".
It was "lovely"--or some other equally British sounding adjective. Our adorable friend Anna (not British) took it upon herself to make a turkey, stuffing, vegetables, mashed potatoes, and even found the ONLY place in Florence that makes pumpkin pie, and then asked if we could have our feast at her friends' apartment. I was put in charge of bringing rolls. Level of surprise: low. But, dammit. I brought some great rolls.
Anna even made these placecards. There's a bronze statue of a hog in Firenze that people believe has the power to guarantee a return trip to the city if you rub his nose. How cute are these?!
After our adorable feast, the English girls' first- I might add, we decided to play a board game. In keeping with Thanksgiving tradition. A little less outrageous than in the Evans home, but not by much. I think an equal amount of wine may have been consumed. The game we chose was called "Articulate!". It was Catchphrase. British style. How perfect is that, that they call Catchphrase "Articulate!"?! Let's just say that there are some pop culture icons who haven't made it across the pond...and made for some pretty funny descriptions to the ignorant Americans. With that said, Spencer didn't know who ABBA was. Anna got really competitive, in a Sara Evans style, and I called her "the Holiday Bitch". Everyone thought it was pretty hilarious that I call my mom that, but it made me feel even more at home.
So, it was strange not to be at home or in Cambria sharing Thanksgiving with my wonderful family and friends for whom I am so thankful, but I wasn't lonely. Va bene.
Miss and love you all. Baci!Now let the Christmas carols and excessive viewing of A Muppet Christmas Carol begin...

Mad-town

Lived up to its nickname. Madrid was insane. (Disclaimer: I'm not about to pretend that I'm getting used to this ridiculous "hopping-from-amazing-foreign-city-to-the-next" lifestyle...or that I'm not still waiting for my alarm to go off and wake up in a crappy twin bed in Worcester, Massachusetts.) But I'm doing my best to take advantage of "the Fun Express"--P.S. thanks for that phrase, Pops. And for everything else.
So, back to the weekend. Jenna and I flew from Pisa to Madrid on Friday morning. I sat next to a girl from Long Island. What the hell? Found our hostel in the Salamanca district of the city no problem. Checked into room 55--since been nicknamed the "Honeymoon Suite"-- because when we opened the door we found that we had accidentally booked a "double room" meaning ONE double bed. Proceeded to have a pretty solid chuckle at what the concierge must have been thinking. So what if we're a young lesbian American couple? (This picture illustrates the size of the 'loveshack' please ignore the size of my body. It's a problem.)
We mastered yet another subway system and found ourselves in Plaza del Sol--which I have incredibly vague recollections of from New Years 2006 when we were visiting Cate... I'm sure most of you remember those stories. I have a scar, if not. But the weather was beautiful so we wandered around the city with Jenna's friend from high school, Eva. She was an absolute riot, and she took us to get some authentic Spanish cuisine- that, let's face it, sucks. But that's okay because it was accompanied by delicious sangria. After some more eating and wandering we returned to our hotel for a nap. I am, for the record, in full support of a culture that has naps built in to their day. So we met up that night and had a SUPER fancy dinner of Doner Kebab and giant beers. Solid. We were, unfortunately, seated across from a group of hyper-sexual Spanish preteens. Who are just as bad as Italians at controlling their PDA. Gross.
After meeting up with Eva's friends from school we found ourselves in the infamous cave bar. (Made infamous by one Catherine Evans Morin--it was the only place in the whole city she told me to go. True story.) El Chapandaz, as I guess it thinks it should be called, is exactly as I said. A bar that is cave-themed. The entire interior looks like a cave, complete with a specialty drink called "Panther Milk" that pours from a stalactite hanging from the ceiling. Outrageous. We obviously took advantage and danced the night away to a playlist that I would have compiled in the 5th grade. Not kidding. "I Want it That Way" by the Backstreet Boys and "Wannabe" the Spice Girls hit single in 1996 both played.
The next day consisted of more wandering around the city. Visiting an incredible farmer's market-type place and being scared half to death by the "street performers" in Madrid. Who don't do anything impressive. They just dress up as scary things and make noises at you. This was my (least) favorite.


Jenna and I really wanted to see a Flamenco show, but due to poor planning and a general laziness on our part, we only put forth an effort about 2 hours before one would start. Apparently they require more notice. Woops. So we shared a hilarious, romantic dinner for two. Just to keep up the appearance of a honeymooning couple, I guess. Yeah, Spanish food, you're nothing to write home about.
That night we ventured out to a super authentic Spanish hotspot called "Dubliners Pub" (....) After we got over the culture shock it turned out to be an outrageous night. When we arrived there was a rowdy group of men in the back of the bar all wearing funny red hats. It quickly became obvious that they were a bachelor party and not long after we became their honored guests. "Where are you girls from?" "America." "AMERICA?! We LOVE America." They were British. And middle aged. And very drunk. After I told one of them I was from California he told me that he lived there for 4 months working on a walnut farm...close to...Pismo Beach? (the ellipses are meant to illustrate how long it took him to formulate these thoughts) Turns out this goofus worked in Paso Robles. What the hell are the chances? Anyways. We spent the rest of the night with these group of hilarious men. The fact that the buckets of Corona just kept on comin' wasn't turning us away... at one point I was leading a limbo with a man nicknamed (not inappropriately) "Big John". He will be the gentleman using my hair as a mustache.. Yep. That about sums that up.
Travel home the next day was annoying, but we made it. Ready to face another week of school before we head of to Venice this weekend :) Another week of school, minus university tomorrow because the students are striking. On Monday in class our professor (who bears a disturbing resemblance to Queen Elizabeth) informed us that the students would be striking on Wednesday and there would be no class. Things that don't happen in the US: that.
Today was also my first day doing my actual cultural project. Who's surprised that the Liberation Movement made me just a liiiiiitle uncomfortable? So now I'm helping in a CCD class once a week. Much more my style. The class is for 5th graders, and today I was much more of a participant than a teacher. The girl sitting next to me explained that the Bible is divided into two parts. The first part is before Jesus was born and the second is after. So long, Holy Cross. I've got all the religious studies I need right here. Taught by an 11-year-old. Who later asked if I was 16. I don't want to talk about it.
This is obviously really long because I don't want to do my homework...Hope you're all enjoying my rambling. Hell, I hope reading this is keeping you from doing something productive! Va bene.
Miss and love you all. Baci!

Bellissima Roma

Rome was unbelievable. Or "INbelievable" as I accidentally muttered to Adair while oogling at the Trevi Fountain on Saturday night. I swear, I can't speak English anymore. And I can't really speak Italian...contrary to what all of the Romans we interacted with said. Their tourists must be even more painful than the ones in Firenze. It was quite the ego boost. (Side note: there are still people called "Romans". hilarious.)
Travel was very uneventful. Which is typically a good adjective for travel. We took a three hour train from Florence to Rome and arrived at about 6 o'clock at night. From the train station we walked to our hostel--the Walter Guest House. Brief description: The Walter Guest House is located in China town (yes, there is a China town in Rome. No, it is not as nice as San Francisco's. And it's arguably not as nice as China town in Detroit--if that's a thing). It was pretty disgusting, to be honest. But- what's being a traveling college student if not staying in bizarre hostels? So we found the address no problem and headed up to meet the proprietor. If I had to guess "Walter" is about as far from a Walter as you can imagine. He and his entire family were crowded into the lobby eating cur

ry chicken and watching some outrageous Bollywood film. That's all I'm going to say about that. So he showed us to our room.. I really feel like this picture of the light fixture is enough to paint a mental picture. There were also signs posted all around that were written as ridiculously in Italian as they were in English. So as to confuse EVERYONE who might be staying there. Including the Chilean guy who stayed with us the first night. Who only really spoke Spanish. When I asked him on Friday morning as we were all heading out, "Where are you headed today?" He responded, "Chile." Clearly I replied, "Ooooo. Fun."
We saw all of the major sights. The Vatican, Colosseum, Pantheon, Trevi Fountain... insane. Rome is absolutely beautiful. Did you know that the Colosseum was built in year 80? 80! It's too bad we don't have millions of slaves around to erect outrageous monuments to narcissistic rulers anymore. They made some cool stuff. I mean, I guess we could do without the slaves thing. But, really.
The Vatican was (obviously) my favorite place I've ever visited, I think. Everything was incredible. And Catholic. Which is a double-whammy in my opinion. I had no idea that the Vatican Museums were as crazy as they are. Mummies, Roman statues, The School of Athens, the Belvedere Statue. Things I never expected to see in real life. Thank goodness it was all accompanied by an audio guide (of which I have become a HUGE fan. I'm gonna start taking pictures straight-faced with a peace sign in front of monuments. If you know what I mean) And then to finish it all of with the Sistine Chapel. Accidenti. ('wow' in Italian- pronounced ah-chi-dent-ee. I suggest you all pick that one up. It's 'great fun'.) I was actually informed on Saturday morning that I was drunkenly ranting to Spencer about the Creation of Man and how "Michaelangelo is like a mind reader or something."--Really, Lauren? Who drunkenly rants about that kind of stuff?
I mean, this entry is obviously best expressed in pictures. I had a fabulous time. And I did my best to "UMH", Modge. No disasters to report.
Off to Madrid with Jenna tomorrow. So pumped.
Love and miss you all! Baci.

Assisi and Halloween

So I got to the bottom of the mysterious dinner on Thursday night.
Turns out it was Francesco's birthday. So he will from here on out be referred to as my 38-year-old brother. Thank you very much. Today was a continuation of the celebration, since it's All Soul's Day (clearly a celebrated holiday in Italia) and we had ANOTHER outrageous meal in his honor. This one was serious, though. Leonardo, his wife, and their baby joined us. Along with an outrageously loud and opinionated woman who I can only assume was an aunt. I missed her name. Which is a good thing, because I'm glad I didn't have to converse with her alone. She was so animated with her hand motions--every time she started talking I was afraid she was going to knock everything off the table. Keep in mind, for the majority of lunch our conversation was about salmonella. No one feels that strongly about salmonella, Aunt "Sally". Get it? Salmonella--Sally? Lunch lasted for like three hours. Everyone talked loudly and drank wine and occasionally glanced over at the awkward foreign girl making faces at the baby and slowly getting kinda drunk... Casual Monday afternoon.
This weekend was lovely. I ended up going to that Halloween party at the University. What a strange experience. Europeans don't dress up as funny things for Halloween. They only dress up as "scary" things. Therefore, this party looked like a scene from a Disney Channel Original Movie. With grown ass people wearing witches' hats, and wrapping themselves up in toilet paper like mummies. With more cigarette smoking indoors and alcohol consumption--that was less like a Disney movie, I guess.
Saturday we took a lovely little day trip to Assisi. The birthplace of everyone's good friend St. Francis. It is such a beautiful little medieval town. There's really not a whole lot to do besides visiting incredible churches, and these crazy castles. But it was a very nice afternoon, and we had a wonderful Italian lunch at a great little cave-like restaurant. Afterward my friend Anna bought this meringue. Totally normal. I'd never had a meringue before, but this one was pretty delicious. The town really was beautiful, though. It was like stepping back in time.

Yesterday was Halloween. We were gypsies. Please don't get confused imaging something sexy like Esmeralda from the Hunchback of Notre Dame (also, please excuse the number of Disney references in this post). Real gypsies--or at least Italian "zingari" are MUCH less glamorous. This is what real ones look like. They walk around important monuments and harass tourists for change. Usually just shaking plastic cups with coins in them while pointing to laminated pictures of children. In reality, they're pretty terrifying. So, we did our best to imitate that. Even Spencer got in on the action. Disclaimer: my belly is stuffed. I'm not THAT out of control...yet. They always look like they have pillows stuffed to make them appear pregnant. I'm not entirely sure what the deal with that is. I mean, if they're not pillows-and are in fact babies-I don't get why they're so lumpy... I'm not sure if we were being offensive or not. But I think we looked pretty hilarious. Again, though, lost on the Italians. Funny costumes aren't their thing.
Today was totally worthless because it's raining and everything is closed for the holiday. So it's not even my fault, right?
We leave for Rome on Thursday after class. I'm so excited. I fully intend on having a Lizzie McGuire-esque adventure. (again, the Disney thing, sorry.) And I'll let you know all about it. That is, if you don't see me in a tabloid impersonating an Italian pop star.
A dopo. Baci!

Il ventotto di ottobre

I'm sure you're all dying to know how Vito is doing.
Well, I'm sorry to report that I have been actively ignoring his calls and text messages for the last week. It's just getting weird. But when I meet a new hilarious character of his caliber, I will certainly let you know.
As for the rest of my life...
Everything is just great. We've started planning some trips for the rest of the semester, and that's very exciting. Having something to look forward to makes weeks go by even faster, though! This weekend we're hoping to go to Assisi--it's not too much of a party town (though I have heard some craaaazy stories about those Franciscan monks. I think they can really get down.) But it's supposed to be absolutely beautiful. And we haven't really seen enough of Italy...Then ROME next weekend. I absolutely cannot wait for that. I'm not sure when things are happening, but we also planned trips to Interlaken, Switzerland; Venice; and Germany for Thanksgiving.
As for funny stories, which I feel like this blog has become primarily. I'd like to tell you all a little story about flesh. Last week my host mom Liliana asked me what I eat for breakfast in America. I said I didn't really eat breakfast (which is a filthy lie, I love breakfast) and that the baguette, jam, and cup of coffee she sets out for me every morning was just fine. She responded telling me that in London Francesco ate something for breakfast that you put in a cup of milk. (Keep in mind that Liliana speaks NO ENGLISH) She struggled for a few seconds trying to think of the English word for this mysterious breakfast food and settled on "flesh". Oh, is that so? Francesco ate flesh in England? No wonder we revolted against those pervs.
So when I sat down to breakfast last Saturday in the place of my baguette there was a coffee cup full of milk, and a box of Corn Flakes. Flakes, flesh. Tomatoes, tomahtoes. You know how it goes. But like I said, a COFFEE CUP of milk and a box of cereal. No bowl. I sat and looked from her to the box to the cup and back to her for a solid 30 seconds before she asked "Should I open it for you?"--well, Liliana, that's not what I was wondering..but sure--so she opened the box. And poured the cereal into my coffee cup. Hilarious. Took everything inside of me not to laugh at her. Who knew Corn Flakes were capable of confusing a person so thoroughly. Later on this week Mario walked into my room while I was getting dressed and apologized to me because he didn't know what to do with my Corn Flakes. Really, guys? There's a picture on the front. No assembly required.
I'm still obsessed with them. So many good stories. Last night after dinner we ate pineapple cake, and drank champagne. I have no idea why. That's not normal. It must have been someone's birthday or something, right? To paint a more complete mental picture, we were also watching "Meet the Fockers" in Italian as a family. Yep, that awkward movie with all the uncomfortable sex stuff. Good thing I'm not awkward...wait...
My bike also got stolen yesterday. That was really lame. But then I bought another one on my walk home. So, I guess that's a pretty pointless story. The new one is a half-turquoise mountain bike. It would have been an 11-year-old girl's dream. On the real, it probably was. Before someone stole it and sold it to me at this sketchy flea market store called "Mecca".
I wish I had more to report. Nothing too crazy is going on. We might be going to a Halloween party sponsored by the University tonight. That could be interesting...we're also going to a Halloween party at Paolo's house on Sunday night. That promises to lend itself to plenty of funny stories.
Can't believe I'm missing Oregon-USC. That actually causes me physical pain. At least I'm repping over here. Right? Did I forget anything?
Love and miss you all! Baci

il diecinove di ottobre

London was a blast. It took us what felt like 12 hours to get there from here...but when we did it was totally worth it. Jenna and I got to our hostel and FINALLY met up with Christine and Audrey at like 2 AM on Wednesday morning, and we were all so excited to start catching up that we didn't go to bed until like 5. But we were troopers and rallied at a decent time to get busy sightseeing. Started off at Buckingham Palace. On the real, I wasn't that impressed. The guards weren't wearing fuzzy hats and I didn't get to harass them like Amanda Bynes did in "What a Girl Wants" (I would like to go on record saying that I've only seen that because Sarah Cardey likes dumb movies-thank you very much). But, I mean, I guess it was decently cool haha. I wouldn't mind living there with Yul Brenner...After that we went to Chipotle. Yes, there is a Chipotle in London. And yes, leave it up to Audrey, Christine and me to find it. It tasted kinda funny, but it was delicious, and we could legally buy Coronas. So, va bene. Then onto White Hart Lane: home of the Tottenham Hot Spur. What's that? What do you mean you have no idea who/what that is? Are you kidding?
Wait. Me either. Christine's family is obsessed with soccer so her dad bought us all tickets to tour his favorite team's stadium. Obviously, everyone was enthralled. The whole thing might have been miserable if not for Alfie. Alfie was a fellow tour member who was celebrating his eh...7th birthday I would guess. He had the cutest little British accent and an airbrushed t-shirt that said his name on it. Let me remind you, his name was Alfie. He was actually simultaneously the cutest and most annoying little boy I've ever encountered. He never stopped talking--the tour guide seemed like she wasn't interested in Alfie living a day after 7. Hilarious.
Wednesday night we went out in Leicester Square and had a lovely time talking to weird people. Thursday we were good little tourists! We visited some of England most important landmarks...like Platform 9 3/4. Yep, also a thing. We rode on a red Double Decker tour bus. The works. We were actually such good little tourists that we all fell asleep on the bus at 6:15 on Thursday night, needless to say we didn't rage too hard that night.
Unfortunately Christine and Audrey had to leave early on Friday morning, so we bid them a terribly impersonal farewell on the metro while Jenna and I proceeded to visit Harrod's--the incredible department store that takes up an entire city block. Blew my freakin' mind. We got back to Florence no problem Friday night, but poor little Jenna was really sick. She was such a trooper.
Saturday we had to take a ridiculous test for language school. You read that correctly, Saturday. So stupid. Let's just hope I didn't get another "insufficient". Really, though. Pray for me. Saturday night our cultural adviser took us to a goofy Italian rock "Cover Band" concert. Pretty hilarious. Adair and I got super into this crazy, super lesbian rocker named Gianna Nannini. So strange.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WN0Bh8hVh-o
Sunday we took a day trip to Siena. I was exhausted, but it was really pretty. I hadn't been there since the Palio, and, well, let's just say sightseeing wasn't my first priority that day. And if I had seen sights...I don't know if I necessarily remember them. Woops. So this was a good thing. Their Duomo is incredible inside.
Yesterday it was back to the "grindstone"--going to class and stuff. Oh yeah, and then casually taking a 5 hour nap. That's normal. But I did my reading for museology, and I read some of "Il Nipole del Magi"--the Magician's Nephew. The first book in the Chronicles of Narnia. You know, the series for children. I think the guy sitting next to me on the bus felt sorry for me...Totally normal taking courses at a university in the morning and having a 2nd grade reading level.
Today was also pretty standard, except that the weather was beautiful! Look at this picture I took on my walk home from school. I mean, I miss New England foliage, but it's hard to complain about this. And I learned that I have to start my ICIP on Thursday. ICIP (Individual Cultural Immersion Project) is an activity to get involved in the community that everyone studying abroad is supposed to do. I (stupidly) told our adviser that I wanted to do something in the Church. Because I'm a weirdo, like everyone knows. Elisa said she knew of the perfect thing for me to do. So she's introducing me to the leader of a "Student Catholic Movement." Those of you who know me, know that I'm not part of "movements". That word alone terrifies me. Now, couple that with the fact that this "movement" is called "Communita di Liberazione". Oh, liberation, you say? That's the only word that scares me more than movement. So there you go, Babbo, maybe in addition to not going to school I can become a communist. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Haha. But, really.
So currently I'm brainstorming a way to avoid that...and watching Hocus Pocus. Because I bought it on iTunes. Do you think I'm the only person to ever do that? Anyways, I wish Halloween was a thing here. I just wanna go to the Harleys house and see it all decorated. I hope everyone has great costumes!
Vi amo, and mi mancate molto! Baci!