Heat

Did you know that crime sprees tend to be correlated to heat waves? I totally believe it, because every time the temperature rises above 87 degrees I want to shank someone.

-I hate cupcakes these days. I hate that every freaking girl in the United States yaps about "Ohmigod I love cupcakes!" Cupcakes are no longer cute, they're just irritating. Don't get me wrong I love cake, pie, panna cotta, flan, crepes...basically any dessert. What I can't handle is the cupcake culture.

-I read Esquire now. And not just because Gerard Butler is on the cover of this month's issue.

-I liked Bruno. Wildly inappropriate, yes, but still funny.

-Gregory Peck is one of the loves of my life. But he's dead. So now I semi-stalk is grandson, Ethan Peck. Ethan is the new star of ABC Family's 10 Things I Hate About You. I've gotten pretty hooked on ABC Family this summer. It's pretty sad. I keep telling myself it's just until 30 Rock is back or something, but I think we all know that come fall I'll still be concerned about Amy & Ben on The Secret Life of the American Teenager.

-If I wear a plaid shirt, will I look like a lumberjack? This is my concern.

The 4th of July

I love Independence Day. I am all about hot dogs, cherry pie, and fireworks. I've had some particularly awesome 4th's.

This year, I want to kill someone.

Don't get me wrong-I had a great day with one of my best friends. I blew off my family because they were going to a place where if I say latte, they look nervous, and the ratio of guns to people is 2:1.

So I stayed behind with the dog. Who has issues. Especially involving loud noises.

And the &^%#^!@ neighbors are ALL setting off illegal fireworks. The dog has basically shat himself about 16 times.

I'm 32 seconds away from calling the cops. I love the 4th of July, but I love my dog more.

True Story

Ok, maybe my life in Colorado Springs isn't as interesting as my life in Italy was. Or maybe it's the stories that I have aren't suitable for the public.

Anyway, I've had a lot of time on my hands. I've gone to yoga and then been unable to sit comfortably the next day. I've eaten a lot of Pop-Tarts (s'mores flavor) and watched umpteen episodes of the West Wing. My friend Hannah got me hooked on Twilight, even though I swore that I would not give in. Puhleeze, who was I kidding? Although I must say, in the movie version, Edward Cullen tends to have an Eastern European accent, which is weird.

Some things on my radar:

The Help by Kathryn Stockett
Me Talk Pretty One Day and Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, both by David Sedaris
The new Kate Voegele album
trying to understand why rompers are back in style-call me crazy, but I don't understand the allure of dressing like an infant

In sad news, my hot neighbor has apparently not come home for the summer. Sigh. Also my usual summer habit of wandering around the neighborhood (supposedly running, but more like meandering) has been halted indefinitely as there is a bear problem. Typical, I try to act like a healthy person and Mother Nature is like "bitch, no".

Sooooo

I'm home from Italy.

I've been home for 11 days.

I can buy really big cups of coffee and take them with me.
I cut my hair and waxed my eyebrows. I look much less like a hobo now.
I went to a yoga class 3 days ago for the first time since January. I am still sore.


The blog will continue to be updated though I am no longer traveling. Frankly, my life is just as much of a story even when I'm in Colorado or Clinton.

Stirring the Pot

Tea party people: You’re idiots. I apologize for insulting you, but Obama’s tax plan in no way resembles the taxation without representation that led to the 18th century tea parties. The man was ELECTED, whether you like it or not, and he’s been in office for about three months. So chill. Also, if you want to protest wasteful spending, don’t buy a bunch of tea bags and throw them in water.

Texas-If you want to secede, knock yourselves out. You can even kick out all the illegal immigrants. But you know who you’ll be left with? My relatives. And trust me, that will suck.

Miss California-Here’s the plan-we’re going to make all partnerships “civil unions” in the eyes of the government. Homosexual, heterosexual, whatever. Then you can get off your donkey about marriage being a religious institution, because if it truly is, than the government has no business calling any hetero partnership a marriage, now does it?


Get ready…get set…scream at me!!

BFFs

I had this great teacher in sixth grade. He was an English teacher and the man was hysterically funny. He also had no patience for sixth grade bullshit.
One day we were sitting in class. I was feeling pretty morose, probably because one my so-called friends had said something horrible to me. I got picked on a lot in sixth grade-much of it was because I made myself a target, and a lot of it was just the cattiness of adolescent girls. Anyway, this teacher suddenly stopped his lesson, put down the chalk and went off on a tangent that had been as valuable to me as knowing the word anomaly ever has been.
He said to us “You know, you guys think that the people you’re friends with now are your BEST FRIENDS. You think you are close. But the truth is that you guys have no idea what that kind of friendship is. A best friend is someone you can call and say in seriousness “I need a million dollars” and they mortgage their house, no questions asked. A best friend is someone you trust with your family’s lives. A best friend isn’t the person you sit on the couches in the common room and make fun of other people with. So just think about that.” Then he picked up his chalk and went back to vocab.
I’ve been grateful for those words for the last 9 years. They were words to live by. And I can honestly say that I’ve been lucky enough to find some friends who meet those standards. I drank wine and ate mushroom risotto with some of them tonight. I’ve talked to others recently, and a couple I haven’t talked to in a while. But I know they’re out in the universe. The point is friendship isn’t simple-it’s complicated. Real friendship is sometimes hard and painful. But the friends who stand by you through love and loss-they’re so worth it.

Scraps of a Life

I’m packing. This is absurd. I just packed to come here and yet somehow I’m sifting through all of these things again. There’s new stuff here too:
-A business card from the Indian restaurant where Lindsay & I ate frequently.
-The brochure from La Cucharacha, an unfortunately named, but delicious Tex-Mex restaurant where Al, Lianne, and I talked endlessly about our futures.
-Programs & fliers from when the Hamilton College Choir came to Rome.
-Tickets from Tunisia, Sicily, & Florence
Then there’s all the stuff that doesn’t go in a scrapbook. I have a new addiction to “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”. I can make spinach lasagna with my eyes closed. I have GROSS feet from walking around the city. And I’ve lived in this cit y that has taken life out of me, put it back in and then shook me up completely, just for fun. The people I’ve met here…we have this bond now that’s different. Maybe it wasn’t a natural bond, but it’s definitely here now. I’m going to miss them & this.

Also my hair is really long and I'm sure my father will make some sort of hobo comment when I get home.

Three Types of Pizza for Dinner

Nine days. Nine days.
Seriously.
I honestly can’t believe that my semester in Italy has flown by so fast. Today I walked into the pizza parlor where all I could do was point in January. Today I had a full-blown conversation.
Last night my roommates were shrieking because roommate A was convinced that roommate B was wearing her underwear. It’s distinctly possible that she was. We still don’t know for sure.
Roommate B also hung a full clove of garlic above my bed. Don’t ask me why, but I’ve been sleeping MUCH better since she did that.

Earthquakes

First of all, let me say that my thoughts and prayers go out to all the people in the area of Italy where there was serious damage and many lives lost.

Then let me say, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

An EARTHQUAKE?!?!?!?!

Ok, when I was getting ready to come to Italy, everyone said "Watch out for the Italian men." Nobody said watch out for the seismic activity that will make your bed move around!!

Monday night I was at a hotel with my friend B, who was visiting. At about 3:30 in the morning the bed started shaking and I was like whoa, what is this? By the time I was awake enough to understand what was going on, the rumbling was over. So I called my mom to assure her that I was ok.

The woman did not believe that there had been an earthquake. I think she thought that I was under the influence.

I know I have an active imagination, but even I cannot imagine an earthquake!
What's even more ridiculous is that a lot of people on my program slept through it. How do you sleep through an earthquake? Can you teach me? This might be a valuable skill.

In other news:

-Malawi said no dice to Madonna adopting another baby. I do recognize that the little girl's life would probably be better outside of the orphanage, but seriously, Madonna's 50 years old. That is too old to be raising a toddler. I know, because whenever I spend time with Jasmine, that child exhausts me, and we have to play games that involve "lying very still with our eyes shut and no talking".

-19 days left in Italy. That is weird.

-There's a creepy mime by the Trevi Fountain who whacks girls on the butt with his baton. Next time that happens to me, I'm whacking him back. You'll probably be able to read about it online-"American Student Gets Into Brawl With Mime-Explains "He Started It, That Butt-Toucher"" (P.S. I'm sure there is some joke about a mime and fighting but what can I say I'm too tired from pretending to study Italian, but really reading about Michelle Obama)

A Few Funnies

My roommate's nephew was born last night. That led to this conversation:
"Oh man that baby has no idea what's going on right now! He is freaking out! Do you remember birth? I remember birth."

Spring is springing! This means that my feet need to look nice. I painted my toenails gold.

When the Obamas met the Queen of England, the queen looked like a midget. A little midget with marshmallow fluff on her head.

I'm listening to a lot of Bob Marley.

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia: amazing show. So is Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman but apparently watching that takes away my street cred. I watch it anyway though, cause her boyfriend is HOT.

Life Goes On-O bla di O bla da

My favorite professor in Rome always tells us the stories of Classical Mythology with the phrase “life goes on”. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from studying abroad, from the ancient Greeks, from my life, it is that life truly does goes on.
Oedipus killed his father and married his mother. Medea killed her children and disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Actaeon was ripped apart by his own hunting dogs. But the world kept spinning.
Whether you’re having a bad day, a bad week, or even a bad year-it will end eventually. And the flip side of the coin is that the good stuff ends too. So all we can really do is enjoy the pleasures of life while they’re here- our friends, Arrested Development, puppies, a fence in the middle of Rome with lilac climbing all over it, reunions at the airport, strawberry ice cream, lying in the grass under the stars, clean laundry, crunchy autumn leaves, and of course, family. Life goes on and if we miss the stuff that makes it worth living, then what’s the point?
I sound like a total sap-which I’m not. I have days where I hate everybody, don’t want to get out of bed, shoot people dirty looks just because they seem chipper. But the past years of my life have gone very, very fast and sometimes very, very slow. I’ve had the best times of my life and I’ve also had some of the worst. A lot of my problems were solved with a piece of chocolate and a magazine-sometimes they weren’t. But the sun still rose in the east and set in the west. Someday (hopefully many years from now) I’ll die and the best I can ask for is that future generations of humans, human/alien hybrids, perhaps even robots, will know that life goes on.

Nananana life goes on.

Don't Wear Stilettos to the Vatican

Thursday afternoon I pulled on a skirt, and a new pair of heels. I was going to mass at the Vatican. The Hamilton College choir has been on a tour of Italy-and now they were performing at St. Peter's Cathedral. Lindsay and I headed over to the Vatican, gossiping and getting the stink-eye from Italians who couldn't believe that we weren't wearing heavy coats, what with the chilly temperature of 65 degrees.

Now I'm not a complete idiot. I wore flip-flops for the walk. But before we went in the gates, I switched to nude peep-toed stilettos.

Here's a tip-marble floors + stiletto heels = pain.

As my feet and legs were in agony, I was stunned by the sheer talent of the choir. I've heard them before, of course, but now hearing them again in Italy? Wow, I mean WOW. I was so so so proud of them.

Friday brought the arrival of my friend Hannah-I took her on a walk through the Villa Borghese, to the Trevi Fountain for gelato, to Piazza Navona for more gelato, to a bakery for Nutella Donuts, and back to my little apartment. It was wonderful to see her- we also saw a group of choir members walking back from the Vatican.

To have Hamilton and Rome combine for a couple of days was surreal to say the least. But it was also awesome. It reminded me that even though Rome is awesome and I'm going to be sad to leave it, Hamilton is waiting for me to come back. Plus, last time I checked we still didn't have any marble floors, meaning that my heels & I should be good to go.

What I'll Take Away

My friend Brandun pointed out that 5 weeks from today we'll be going home. 5 weeks sounds both impossibly long and impossibly short. How have I been here for over 2 months already? Seriously?!?

Forevermore I'm going to associate the smell of cigarettes with Rome-this is one city where the anti-smoking movement hasn't reached.

When I hear the sweet funk of James Brown, I'm going to think about last night, when a bunch of us went to a club called Big Mama's where a James Brown cover band was playing. At first the Italians gave us the old stink-eye, but once the music really got going and we got dancing, they warmed up to us. I did the lawn-mower, the shopping cart, the squat, and a whole bunch of other moves. I think I probably looked like a spastic monkey.

I also got to experience the joy of the Nightbus. Unlike in Harry Potter, you can't just stick our arm out to find a ride home. Instead you have to take a random bus to Termini, the main train station, then hop on another bus, just to find a stop where the N6 goes. When you find an N6 stop, you have to wait for 42 minutes for it to come, at 2:15 in the morning. Eventually you make it home, where the short & angry porter judges you for being out so late. I kept singing Matt Nathanson's song "Come on, Get Higher" to warm myself.

In order to recover from this madness, I slept for something like 10 hours today. I only got up to eat and use the ladies' room. Oh yeah and I watched Deep Blue Sea while doing my Latin homework.

So while I'm taking a lot with me from Italy, I also know that I'm still me. Quirky, eccentric, bread-loving, bad-dancing me.

P.S.
Last night while waiting for a tram I starting singing and Lindsay made me stop. She reminded me that I'm tone-deaf. I just like to forget that when I sing, it sounds like cats dying.

An Anthropological Perspective

My friend Hannah is an anthropologist, so she "observes things". One of her favorite subjects to observe (or at least one that is around a lot) is me. Some of the things she's noticed:
1. When trying to talk to guys it's always "later".
2. I have very weird hours. Get up at 8, do some stuff, go back to sleep at 11.Get up again at two, good till 6, then catnap. Up again at 7 until 3 in the morning. Repeat.
3. I watch the same movies over & over again. Grey Gardens, Coyote Ugly, Notting Hill.
4. Sugar is one of my main food groups.
5. I have a weird obsession with my feet (she also claims that after ballet class, my feet smell like "old cheez doodles").

I suggested than Hannah write her senior thesis on me. She politely declined.

One-Liners

On a certain person's boxers:
"They were white and semi-sheer and I basically had to cover my eyes."

On the ghost in that apartment next door:
"I can get rid of the ghost-I'll need some candles and the blood of a young goat and an old goat."
"I'd rather have the ghost."

Thank You

I just want to say thank you to the Universe for the following things:
-Hamilton College, and my friends there
-My family
-Nutella
-Country Music
-High Heels
-Jasmine (the person & the flower)
-Bernini

Italian Life

So obviously I'm thinking about the future, but I am also thinking about the now. I'm having a really good time in Italy. I'm still a huge fan of Nutella, although I'm trying to curb my cravings a little bit. The way I do this is by eating pizza bianca (dough with salt and olive oil) with honey drizzled on top. The sweet, salty, and the olive oil make an amazing combination.

My roommates are certainly entertaining. 1:00 AM on Saturday Morning-Roommate A decides that she NEEDS to go back to Tunisia. So she & the guy she's been seeing (he is actually Tunisian) flew over at 11:15 AM. She's coming back tomorrow. Theoretically.

My other roommate likes eating as much as I do. Probably more, in fact. Because I have never eaten chicken fingers in the bathtub. She has also eaten Bonne Nut (knock-off Nutella) in the bathtub, straight from the jar.

Of course, I do go to class. One of my professors is named Mario and he teaches my drawing class. He also gives life advice such as "never trust a man" and "to be a better artist drink a little wine, make a little love first".

Go Italy.

The Future

It's funny that when you leave home, you realize exactly what about your home you love. I have two homes, so I have double the people that I love & miss. For me, Hamilton College and "my people" there are as much of a family as my parents and friends in Colorado. Of course, now that my brother goes to Hamilton, it literally is part of m family. I've been incredibly lucky to make great friends, and have some inspirational faculty. They motivate, challenge, and yes, sometimes frustrate me, but at the end of the day I also know that these people are rooting for me. I hope I can give them something good to root for.

To that end, I'm applying to law school. I've always been good(and bad)with my mouth, and going into some sort of law is really appealing. I also know that I need to have a job where I can support myself-food, shelter, & shoes.

Where am I going to be doing this? Well, the truth is that if I want to be an activist I have to be in Washington D.C. I'd love to live in Colorado, but if I want my dream job, it's not where I need to be. The other thing is that I'm not going to move 1770 miles from my Hamilton family, and most of them will stay on the East Coast. So hopefully, with a little luck and a lot of hard work, I'll find a Washington D.C. law school that is a good match for me.

It might seem bizarre that I made these plans in Italy, but it actually makes a lot of sense. The Italians believe in the pursuit of pleasure. What they eat, what they see, what they do is driven by a love for pleasure. I want a job that I like. I know I won't like it all the time. There will be days when I hate it and want to hide under my desk with a caramel macchiato and the latest issue of Vogue. But I think this is the right track for me. And if not, I know my people will be there to catch me when I fall.

Really?

Would someone please explain to me how I avoided getting sick in Tunisia, but in Rome I get food poisoning?

Tunisia really was awesome (I've decided I'll probably never finish the day by day recaps). I rode a dromedary into the Sahara sunset, practiced my French, visited a Holy City, and had a wonderful time. Every place I travel to leaves a little stamp on my heart.

In other news, my high school just won the boys basketball state championship!! Go KODIAKS!!

Tunisia Day Two

It's 62 degrees in Rome. Harhar.

Anyway:
Day 2
8:00 Wake-up
8:30 Eat chocolate croissants, pretend that they are healthy.
9:00 Drive to Port El Kanoui.
10:11 Spot boat tours of Tunisian coast. Find out that they're only half an hour. Hmm
10:15 On the Mediterranean.
10:47 Wind-blown and euphoric, run back to bus.
11:30 Check into hotel which has discoteca, indoor & outdoor pool. This is amazing.
2:30 SHOPPING!! Wander around market. Experience real-life Borat moment as I am asked "How much?"
4:30 Castle by the sea. We wander down a little peninsula only to see a guy barfing. We wander back.
6:00 In room I attempt to flush the toilet, but instead spray myself with water from the bidet hose. Typical.
8:00 Dinner
8:45 I hear familiar music...It's the macarena!! I end up doing the quintessential dance of 1996 with several old German women.
9:15 Belly dancers-If I could dance like that, if only, if only
10:30 More dancing and a brief trip to the Western themed discoteca end. I hed upstairs, pull on my sweatpants, and drift to sleep.

Day 1 in Tunisia

So I made it back from Tunisia, happy with a few more freckles on my nose, and a variety of camel leather goods. It was a great trip-having never been to an Islamic country before, I was fascinated with the culture. That, coupled with the amazing setting, blew my mind on a daily basis.

Day 1
4:45 Wake up to depart by 6:00 AM
5:52 Find out that we are not leaving until 7:00 AM
7:02 Get into taxi cab in extremely bad mood
8:37 Discover chocolate croissants at airport bar. Bad mood dissipates.
11:15 Depart for Tunis
12:38 Arrive in Tunis
1: 30 Arrive at Hotel Diplomat
3:30 Depart for Medina/Souk. Enjoy 70’s Mercedes Bus.
3:50 Visit to perfume shop. Owner peddles a variety of scents including “Sex Machine…only for Saturday nights, tickatickaticka.”
4:15 We are followed by strange Tunisian man who apparently wants to come with us. We sic the cops who have been following us at a discreet distance on him. He leaves.
4:30 Tea Shop. I drink mint tea with pine nuts and then smoke cherry flavored hookah with 13 other people. Love Tunisia.
5:45 Return to hotel for shower because I smell like airport, “Sex Machine”, and hookah
8:00 Dinner (Spaghetti, ironically)
9:00 I pass out. The next morning my roommate Danielle informs me that I snore.

An Italian Soundtrack

Sixties movies set in Italy always have this cool music. Cool is really the only world to describe it-when I hear something from La Dolce Vita or Roman Holiday, I feel like I should put on heels, a dress, and some red lipstick to go sip a cappucino near the Piazza del Popolo.

But I'm not Audrey Hepburn or Anita Ekberg. Audrey Hepburn's first thought upon seeing that there was a gorgeous blue sky above Rome would not be to run onto her balcony and yell "Good MORNING!!" (I didn't actually do that, but I really, really wanted to.) Anita Ekberg wouldn't wear leather flip-flops around her apartment while eating cereal out of the box. My life is pretty different, so I guess it's no shock that my soundtrack is pretty different...

1. MGMT-Electric Feel (I don't know why, but this has been stuck in my head for weeks.)
2. Sting-Desert Rose (When I went to a Tunisia pre-orientation trip, this was the song that accompanied the slideshow.)
3. Tom Jones-Sex Bomb (In Sicily there was a commercial at the train station that played over and over, with this song in the background.)
4. DB Clifford-Simple Things (The story of Italy-it's the simple things that matter here.)
5. Flogging Molly-If I Ever Leave This World Alive (Just because it makes sense to listen to Irish music in ROME.)
6. Kevin Rudolph- Let It Rock (This puts me in a good mood when I have to get up at sketch a naked man at 8:30 in the morning.)

Sicilian Valentine

I spent the weekend in Sicily, home of the Mafia and the cannolo. Didn't see any mafiosos (at least that I was aware of) but I did see and eat many cannoli. Our first night we wandered over to the Teatro Massiomo and found this charming trattoria. We all ordered food and when I ordered a pizza for myself, the waiter gestured and explained that a pizza was too big for a girl like me. I proceeded with my order, determined to prove him wrong.

I ate that whole damn pizza, and had room for dessert. The pizza was yummy, but the taste of victory was better.

Sicily was freezing the entire time that we were there, but we enjoyed ourselves nonetheless. We were in Palermo, which is Italy's 5th largest city. I actually preferred Palermo to Rome in some ways because it is so much more authentic. There aren't guys walking around in gladiator outfits, taking pictures with tourists. Instead, there are old ladies who will give you the Sicilian stare-down (a more hard-core version of the Italian stink-eye).

Now, I'm sitting on my Roman couch, waiting for my laundry to be done and procrastinating a museum report. There's a rhythm to my life here and it's comfortable. I guess that means it's time to shake things up. Who wants to go dancing?

Time Marches in a Circle

Tuesdays are my light days. I only have Italian, so I got to sleep in this morning before heading to my pre-departure meeting about my Spring Break trip to Tunisia. It's going to be so amazing-I've never been to an Islamic country before, and of course the ruins are supposed to be incredible.

I decided today that I need more Roman culture. I live with American students and take classes at the American university, and my Italian is lousy, so I tend to be much more isolated from the real Italy than I want to be. To change that, I've decided to make myself got to 1 museum a week, so at least I can understand more of the history and the culture of this country.

I've been reading the study abroad blog of a girl who graduated from Hamilton a few years before me. It's so comforting to see the parallels between our study abroad experiences. I think sometimes in our desire to validate people's unique characteristics, we forget to acknowledge just how similar we all are. This is the beauty of study abroad-not only do you get to see how different human beings are, you are also reminded that we're one people.

Nostalgia...or Not

Wow, two posts in one day-I must really be procrastinating.

Anyway, I spent part of my evening looking at people from elementary and middle school on Facebook. It's weird- some people are exactly the same and some people are completely different. It's also comforting. Whoever you were when you were twelve can be miles away from who you are at 21. I'm not miles away-I still like the Muppets, Pauly Shore movies, pizza, and my dog. But I'm also pretty far from the girl who had terribly short hair, would read by herself at recess, and was hated asparagus.

This got me thinking-how much of our pasts do we really carry? Are they burdens or blessings? I'm grateful for everything that has happened in my life. I had an amazing childhood and any of the petty cruelty (let's talk about 6th grade sometime) or difficulties I faced made me a better person.

Maybe I'm pondering all this because I have been in Rome for almost a month. I know this experience is changing me, but I don't really know in what way or how much yet. Sometimes it takes years to figure out how something impacted you. The only thing I can say for certain is that for all the days when the maid yells at me in incomprehensible Italian, or I stumble over my Latin translations, or maybe it just won't stop raining...there is nowhere else I think that I should be.

Pigeons

Someone asked me: "Elizabeth, why are you afraid of pigeons?"
1. They are basically rats with wings.
2. Their red beady eyes are freaky.
3. One tried to dive bomb me today and last week one fluttered its wings at me.

Deeper Thoughts

The other night, Lindsay and I walked to her convent (haha) after a lovely Indian dinner. We strolled along the Tiber and as we walked we discussed our impressions of Rome thus far. I've been lucky enough to travel to a lot of cool places and the thing that really strikes me is how much Italy is about the physical. What you can see, what you can taste, what you can touch-that is what the Italians have a passion for. This stand in contrast to some of the other cultures I've experienced where there is a lot more contemplation and focus on the less tangible aspects of life, like philosophy. Italy seems to be a country of people with their feet on the ground, rather than their heads in the clouds. Maybe that's why the Italians seems to be a happy people. They live life for daily pleasures like a good glass of wine, a beautiful painting, or a charming lover.
I really like this place.

Things That I'm Scared Of

1. Nuns-I feel like they look at me, and they know.
2. Gypsy Cabs
3. Tripping on cobblestones and dying
4. Flashing on the Metro
5. Pigeons

Stories that Don't Involve Food

So apparently, some people are concerned that all my blog entries are about food. In an effort to please these people, I provide you with the first part of a series entitled: My Roommates. In an effort to protect their privacy, I will refer to them as Sophie and Natalie. This is a quintessential Sophie story.

Sophie Gets Lost
Roommate Sophie is an artist with rather strange hours. She can run on two hours of sleep, which she tends to get at around two in the afternoon. One evening, Sophie decided to take a "short" walk with our friend Dave (fake name). They walked and talked and suddenly they had no idea where they were and it was two o'clock in the morning. As Sophie tells it, Dave became overcome and began crying on a bench. He was sure that they wouldn't survive. Sophie pointed out some lemons which they could eat for survival. Dave picked them and put them in his back pocket. After some more walking and some more crying, Sophie and Dave finally got a cab back to our apartment where they proceeded to make lemonade out of the survival lemons. Literally, the seeds are still in my sink.

Also, yesterday when I was on the Metro a short Asian man pinched my butt and then ran away before I could hit him.

Bad Things

I did something bad.

Really bad.

I went to Burger King in ROME.
But in case you're wondering, the chicken fries are better here than at home.

xoxoxo

I'm Basically Six

So last night, all of my friends were exhausted. They had walked approximately 13 miles around Rome (literally around the city) and were having trouble sitting. So we turned on the television and made some pasta.
All of a sudden I hear "Buongiorno Charlie". Charlie's Angels:Full Throttle was on in Italian. The movie is even worse when you can't understand the dialogue and the awful acting was even more apparent. But during the movie there were Italian commercials. Italian commercials are awesome because they make very little sense, except for the car commercials. Anyway, this peppy music came on and there was an ad for Tresor, a chocolate filled cereal. I looked at it and said that sounds disgusting AND delicious.
About an hour ago, I went to the store and bought a box. It's amazing.

6 year olds have more self-control than I do.

Thursday Afternoons

This is extremely random, but aren't Thursday afternoons wonderful? You look up and think "Tomorrow's FRIDAY..." There's such anticipation on a Thursday afternoon-the actual weekend hasn't arrived yet, but it's close enough to make legitimate plans. In the States there is also such excellent Thursday night television, such as The Office and Private Practice.

I now really feel like I live in Rome. I'll ride the Metro listening to my iPod, grateful that nobody can hear my music (do the Italians like Taylor Swift? Something tells me no). There's a 24 bakery about 10 minutes on foot from my apartment and I like to walk there for fresh pastries. I have two pizza places that are both far superior to anything I've eaten before. I get hit on at least 5 times a day, and if I don't, then I know I must really look like a rat, because the Italian men will hit on anyone. Still, it's nice to be told that you're a beautiful American when buying gelato.

But I really know that I live in a place when I can sit in it comfortably and not be rearranging my lotions and potions are alphabetizing my textbooks. I was just staring out from my balcony, drinking some blood orange juice and feeling incredibly grateful and optimistic. That might also have had something to do with the Nutella I was eating.

1st Week

As of today, I've officially been in Rome for a week. Truth is, it already seems like forever. I have a favorite pizza place, a favorite gelateria, several routes to school, even my own 24 hour bakery. I am s-l-o-w-l-y learning to speak Italian and I've been the recipient of both the Italian stink-eye and the Italian hairy eye. I really like Rome.
But today, I wish I was home. I wish I could sit in front of my TV watching Barack Obama. Between President Bush and the Lewinsky scandal of the Clinton administration, I honestly don't think that I've been proud of my president in a decade. But today when Obama takes the oath of office, I will be proud. I'll probably eat some Nutella to celebrate.
;)

Be Jealous

So obviously one of the best parts of Italy is the food. Yesterday we drove into Umbria, a gorgeous area where St. Francis of Assisi spent a lot of time. Yes, it was pretty, but the real highlight was this incredible meal. It was a traditional Italian lunch-long with lots of wine. The food was just amazing. Here's the menu:
Red pepper pizza appetizers
Cheese Pie
Asparagus risotto
Pasta with wild boar sauce
Roast Chicken
Salad
Sauteed Spinach
Tiramisu

Suffice it to say, I was very, very happy.

Photos of My Apartment

Hehehe

My right ankle is killing me. Despite eating Nutella at least twice a day, my clothes and my jewelry are all looser. I walk and walk and walk and walk. And you know what? I love it.
So far I’ve seen the Vatican (where two priests had me take their picture and I spoke a little Italian with them), the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, and many other beautiful buildings. I’ve had foul fish pizza and delicious pizza margherita, located about two shops apart. Classes start Monday and while I am excited for that, I’ve loved the sightseeing.
I live on a little hill and every morning I walk to school, passing by about three delicious smelling bakeries, as well as an incredible open-air market. Speaking of the market, last night some of us (not me, don’t worry) were inspired to cook dinner. 13 people worked together to create bruschetta, salad, pasta, panetone, and of course wine. Mid-way through our preparations, we realized that we didn’t have enough tomatoes for the sauce. The shops were all closed and disaster (or at least sauce-less pasta) looked inevitable. And yet…I threw on a coat and a couple of other people and I ran down to the pizza place next door to visit Amadeus, my Italian boyfriend (he’s probably in his 40s). I walked in and he smiled and said “Ciao bella”. My friend explained that we needed tomatoes and Amadeus was good enough to sell us some for 2 Euro and a little bit of my dignity.
Tomorrow we go to Umbria. Should be awesome, especially since the day includes a 4-hour, 15 course meal.

Fish Pizza=Eww

So today was our walking tour of Rome. We went to a bakery where we got donuts filled with NUTELLA, and then we walked all of the city. For lunch we stopped at a pizzeria with about 12 different kinds of pizza and I pointed at one that I thought was mozzarella and tomato.

It was mozzarella and tomato with fish paste. Apparently my face as I discovered this fact was epic.

To recover from this trauma, we walked over to the Vatican and had gelato. My personal favorite is fragula, aka strawberry. On our way we discovered an old castle and were peering over into the old moat. Unfortunately for us, instead of a nice piece of history, we saw a guy crapping.
For the rest of the day every other sentence involved a joke about fish pizza or seeing strangers go to the bathroom.

This is my Roma.

Italian Impressions.

Gelato for lunch.
Siesta.
Hot guys.

I love this country.

1st Night in Rome

We landed at the airport and navigated our way to our shuttle, where we proceeded to watch 5 Italian men get into a fight about who got to take us to our apartment. Interestingly enough, "bastardo" is the same in English. The apartment is nice, small, but nice. I have two roommates, and everyone else who lives on my hall is also in the program. We trudged over, in the rain, to the Temple Villa. The pizza they gave us was awesome and there's nothing like getting soaked with a bunch of people to bring you together. Towards the end of the evening we got a cheap bottle of red wine and toasted Italy. To "la dolce vita" and not getting hit by a scooter!
Ciao.

Miso Soup and Frozen Yogurt

I'm in London. British food is notoriously yucky, so instead I'm eating miso soup and frozen yogurt, which are excellent. I'm also waiting for them to announce my gate so I can skeedaddle over there. Where does the word "skeedaddle" come from, I wonder? In any case, I'm on my way to Rome. Stay tuned for quality stories. When I was little, one of my favorite books was called Look Alive, Libby. It was a story of taking chances, and adventure. I also like to say the phrase when something dramatic is about to happen. Plus, my name is Elizabeth, although if anyone called me Libby, I be totally nonplussed.
Over and out.