DAY 100: Adam's Breasticles

What better place to continue the Voyage of Blondage than on the 100th day... apologies for the extended hiatus... too much to see and do to keep the peeps in the know daily... so here we go, on the road again!

I woke up with a smile on my face, gave myself a hearty pat on the back, congratulating myself on surviving 100 days across the pond. I celebrated with ol' reliable: corn flakes, yogi and 2 large cups-o-Italian joe, which funny enough, translates to Pepe... so after a few mugs-o-Pepe we took the short bus into Perugia to tour the Academy of Art, transferring in Ellorah and grabbing a cappuccino at the awkwardly famous landmark KISSKISS bar. After checking out the photography studio, anatomy drawing room (NAKED! said in the BACON! dog food commercial voice) and interupting a printmaking class, we realized that art students in Italy don't do a whole lot different than American art students... except maybe smoke cigs IN the classroom. We then all agreed to visit the medieval gardens, joined hands and walked through the city like a train of Kindergartners... J.J. and I were not diggin' the adolescent treatment and got caught up in photographing back alleys. We both kinda' march to the beat of our own drum, so to speak, because neither of us play drums, and (shockingly) got seperated from the group... thank newborn Baby Jesus for my new and improved navigational skills because we found the gardens 20 leisurely minutes later. We met Jeff and Rosella, and once the gang showed up all freaked out and pissed off after a 45 minute scavenger hunt for BIG & little, we slapped smiles on one another and listened to Rosella give us a brief (not so brief) history of the gardens. After some splendor in the grass and outrageous views of the countryside courtesy of an ancient stone wall lookout, we nestled into the zodiac garden and zenned out with our brown bags... an apple, an orange, a banana and some ham (of course passing on the 2 white bread loaves with one slice of bolognia each... I miss my turkey, swiss and avo sandos)- doesn't get much more random than that! Sunshine and chillaxation does not motivate one to get amped for an archeological museum, but when you have no choice... you fake ampedism and go with the flow. So there we were, bored to death, sitting in front of trojan pillars, bitching about not being outside in the glorious Italian warmth... rough, rough life. (I sicken myself at times...)

After a long day of art in Perugia, I bought my train ticket for a jaunt to the Dolomites this weekend since this Icelandic volcano has been doing a real number on Euro travel... the airlines have lost millions, but the train lines are making bank as it is the only means of transportation from country to country, thus making stations SNAFU. Delightful. Can't wait. We ventured back to the villa on our token short bus that is just one more piece of transportation I've developed a love hate relationship for... this morning I hated it because I was shoved under Guiseppi's armpit with 67 other people (cattle car)... but this evening, it lent some glorious humor: TRANNY ON BOARD, Whoo Whoooo! Holy botched lip injections, someone's headlights are on!  Let me paint you a pretty little picture of "Candy"... this WO-man was bigger than me (believe it or not), Adam's apple and breasticles included, with a Cat Woman inspired facelift (scars visible in between hair plugs) that made Joan Rivers look old and wrinkly. I wanted to ask her/him: "Did you look at that tank top before you put it on this morning thinking it would fit, or did you put it on in 2007 when it fit, pre-breast enhancement?" Tig-ol'-Bittys! He/she must've been smuggling raisins because it was a sauna in the stink wagon and the clincher was when a brotha' from Uganda boarded and I saw absolute fear in his big white eyes, like two eggs sunny-side up in an iron skillet. The visual of "Candy," the girls (and boys) giving "Boitumelo" the up-down is unfortunately burned in my memory. I lost it when he/she exited the pit of arm on wheels and in a sassy Nicholas Cage whisper said, "Scusi un attimo." HIL-arious. Once my inner giggle got a grip, we bolted in Corciano to stop by the grocery for fresh strawberries (whole basket for 1 Euro!)... Jeff was in the mood to celebrate the publication of his 10 page photo-journalism spread in Hot Rod magazine, so we snagged a bottle of Prossecco as well. We sat out in the courtyard, under the setting Umbrian sun, sharing stories, strawberries and laughs. Bebe made us frittatas for dinner with the asparagus Mikele and friends "caught" yesterday and we all merrily ate and drank the evening away, letting the stress of upcoming final projects float away in the fits laughter and cool evening breeze. Why worry in Italy when you can sit outside at 11:30 at night with a glass of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo with friends, talking about upcoming weekend travel plans?  I can't think of a single reason... until tomorrow, ciao ciao ciao....