DAY 51: Artphabet

A hunting we will go.... for Caravaggio! This morning was dedicated to a church-crawl... our fearless leader lead us followers through the center of Rome to San Louis des Francais, Basilica di S. Agostino, and  Miami des Sophia Lorenzo... I've been inspired to use my impressively immense vocabulary and I decided to create an Italiamericano Artphabet: uh-mmm (throating clearing):
Art. Good Start.
Brush. Round. Flat. Made out of cat.
Charcoal. Collage. Canvas. Color montage. Christian Babe... errr Bale.
Dry. Heave.
Encaustic. Easter. Easel. Egg Tempera. PotstickEr.
Fresco. Form.
Gouache. Gold leaf. HoG Wash. Gelato.
Highlight. Dooey. Looey. Hue-y.
Impasto. Impressionism. Impossible. Mission.
Jesus. He deserves his own.
K. Isn't in the Italian alphabet.
Line. To get a Lamb-kabob.
Medium. Model. Midget.
Nude boob.
Oil paint. Vinegar saint.
Paper. Pastel. Pen. Pigement. Paint. Porcelain. Peter. Paul. & Mary.
Q. isn't in the Italian alphabet either.
Raku. Reduction. Religion. Pidgeon.
Shade. Stone. Symbol.
Tint. Turpentine.
Underpainting. Victoria's Secret.
Valuable. Vintage.
Wash. Watercolor. Wax. SUV. W isn't in their alphabet either...
Xray. XOXO
Ye. Yel. Yell. Yello. Yellow. Submarine.
Zion. Noah's Arc. National Park.
Now I know everything about art... I'll see if on Sunday, I can make the Pope laugh hard enough to fart.

Today was pretty uneventful, as you can tell. I caught the bug that we've all passed around to each other, everyone is hacking up their lungs... we sound like collicy cattle. We went to the Capital Museum... saw a bunch of old stuff.... ancient art would be the correct terminology... I just wasn't feeling Constantine today, sorry homie. Jesine and I peaced out early and found an awesome raw foods bar on the way... we got smoothies- ginger, pear, red turnips, red chilis, apples and yogurt. That'll get things movin'... my body thanked me for a some much needed vitamins. I took a 3 hour snooze, with a few coughing attacks throughout... I love waking up, feeling like I forgot to breathe, and cough my guts out for a good 5 minutes. Yet another PBH&B (peanut butter, orange honey & banana) sando for lunch. Never gets old.

I took a stroll along Via del Corso- big shopping street- to search for running shoes. Apparently Italians don't exercise because there are NO athletic stores... a store called Athlete's World sells only fashion kicks and Disney character t-shirts and sweats... WTF? Finding a sports bra and running shorts will be like finding a needle in a haystack. I don't know how these people stay so thin when they eat pasta and bread with 3 courses per meal...  Speaking of food... I stopped by the grocery for some salami, cheese and apples... I have enjoyed making/packing lunch and dinner everyday... so much cheaper! Hoping to get on the upside of this crumby cold... Only one more day in Rome! Not gonna let it get me down... better blogger tomorrow... wasn't feelin' it today, not gonna lie. And it is a day late. I'd get fired if this was my job. Although if I was getting paid to do this, it would be a different story... Maybe someday! CIAO!

DAY 50: For Pete's Sake

If Ethan Hunt could do it, I figure I can too. Scale the Vatican Walls that is. Tommy Cruise is spry, but I've got the reach... the only problem I had was forgetting my handy-dandy Spiderman wrist wire fish hook cable to let myself down from the top.  If I could have lunch with anyone in the world, tomorrow, I'd call Dan Brown up and we'd grab slices of pizza in the cafeteria of the Vatican Museum... Hello oxymoron? Here's a conspiracy Theory for ya: A country within a city within a country... Vatican City's population is less than 1,000 and consists of 2 groups: clergy and those who clean up after the clergy. The city's economy is supported by postage stamps, souvenirs and museum entry fees (that's a lot of stamps); it has it's own private bank with ATM instructions in Latin (only one in the world); the city spans over 110 acres with gardens accounting for over half of the territory. High walls surround to protect the Pope, who doesn't trust Italian Catholic men, so he recruited Swiss Catholic men serve and defend him (maybe the Italians were TOO good looking...). Vatican City is not a member of the United Nations, as the Holy See is a permanent observer state, though they didn't allow Ron Howard near the place for "Angels & Demons," so crew members posed as tourists and snapped thousands of pictures and video footage to recreate St. Peter's Square. Hmmm, a little sensitive are we?

Enough of the political jabs and onto the good stuff... "The Harv" led the pack to the Vatican Museums- housing some of the most famous art in the world and visited by over 4 million people a year. He told us we had 30 minutes to see everything and get to the Sistine Chapel and I nearly had a heart attack... you can't even get to the Sistine Chapel in a half hour! So I pulled my usual whinen'moan and stretched our time out to a few hours... there is SO much to see, it is overwhelming. Bronze statues, marble busts, mosaics, maps, globes, Egyptian pots, vessels, masks, books, jewels, frescos, animal mummies, oil paintings, tapestries, sarcophagus, antique wooden furniture, Jesus Christ, Mo' Mary, Constantine the Great, John the Not-So-Great Evangelist... all spread out into 54 galleries- 53 of which you are forced to enter if you want to see the Sistine Chapel. It was hard to appreciate my surroundings while I was sprinting through galleries under the control of "The Vatican" and "The Harv's" time constraint. I wish I had an entire afternoon to spend weaving through the 4 miles worth of rooms... of notable interest, Stanze della Segnatura decorated by Raphael- 4 reception rooms covered in frescos by Rafi. Of course the Sistine Chapel was magnificent (of course... Raphael, Michelangelo, Bernini and Botticelli), but I was distracted by "Sebastian" who took his job very seriously... if he even saw a camera, he kick you out. No questions asked. He would clap and push through the herds of people motioning for the naughty photographers to follow him out... of course as he was escorting the poor dummies that didn't know any better, everyone snuck pictures until they heard "that clap" again.

Another peanut butter, orange honey and banana sando for lunch today... and "The Harv" had to introduce us to "the best gelato in Rome"... Old Bridge is right outside the Mission Impossible walls and has a line out the door from open to close. I rallied with coconut, pistachio and touch of coffee on top. I may turn my connoisseuring of tiramisu to gelato... following the sugar high came Petey's Square and St. Peter's Basilica- the Motha' Church. This sucker holds 60,000 people and is the largest Christian church in the world. With Michelangelo's help, it was said to be the greatest building of it's age and nothing can be built higher than the dome in the entire city of Rome. It was overwhelmingly beautiful... I am taking some friend's back next weekend, so I'll give it a little more attention. Beneath the church rests all the Popes that came before Pope Benedict XVI... kinda creeped me out walking through hallways of tombs holding a bunch of dead guys. When an air freshener went off at my feet, I'd had enough of the Dead Guy Dungeon and went to Pete's Square for some fresh air... the sun was shining bright and the rounded cobbles looked oh-so inviting... and hour later I woke myself up with a mini-throat-snore- the hum of people, church bells and a cool breeze put me right to sleep. I can now say I napped in St. Peter's Square... rays were disappearing behind clouds, so a few of us took the long way home, down a shopping street, across the bridge and along the Tiber to watch the sun set.

After putting our feet up for awhile, Jessie, Kate, Becca, Jesine and I took a stroll to Campo Fiori to window shop and check out the scene. Funny how window shopping (along with everything else I do) makes me hungry... we decided to do our token "Last Night Dinner" a few days early, simply because we felt like it. Culda Sac has been recommended to us and boasts the best pate' in Rome. We started witha bottle of shiraz, Sweet and Sour Wild Boar (with chocolate!), Phaesant with Truffles and Partridge with Lingonberries. Very interesting combination of flavors and textures- we had fun trying to guess what each one was, since "Ricky" didn't inform us. I ordered Tagliatelle with Hare and Vegetables- gourmet Hamburger Helper is the best description I can think of, very good. Jesine and I shared Ox Tongue with Mustard Sauce- tasted like bland roast beef with a mustard pesto sauce... won't know 'til you try! Chocolate mousse and orange almond were shared for dessert... a great dinner with great company. Once we reached the hotel, we realized we weren't ready to go to bed, so we walked to Trevi Fountain (biggest in the city) and sat on the steps, taking in the bewitching water scene in front of us...  Tritons guide Oceanus' shell chariot, taming seahorses. We made a wish and threw a coin over our shoulder before leaving... great day in Rome... 2 more days and we're out of the city and in to the country... More later... ciao!

DAY 49: Let the Games Begin!

Somehow 7 homeless junkies crawled up to the second level of the Colosseum, tents, banners, megaphone and all, to protest... I think they were pissed they couldn't move in. And I don't blame them, who wouldn't want to live in the Colosseum? Huge picture windows, spacious, great stone work... a tad drafty, but that's what sleeping bags are for. OK, maybe there are too many cats to move in, but I was STOKED to stand inside the ol' tiger cage. Our Olympics today are 16 days.... their Olympics- 100 days. The opening ceremony usually consisted of a re-creation of a naval battle, made possible by Culligan Water Systems... the Romans flooded the entire stadium, threw some boats in the bathtub and had a big game of Battleship. If it were a sunny day, or possibly raining, they would pull a big awning over the ENTIRE thing- strips made from sails, by sailors. The engineering boundaries they conquered were just as impressive as Russell Crow slaying a wrestler with knuckles the size of baby elephants. (Random/Useless fact: None of Ridley Scott's "Gladiator" was filmed in Rome! They built a colosseum 1/3 the size of the original out of plywood and plaster, in Malta... for a cool $1 million.) It was surreal to walk around the entire place, on different levels and see name plates of where all the important people sat... similar to Jack Nicholson's court side seats in the Staples Center, big money in front, and all the rest sit on each other's laps in the cheap seats, wiping each other's bloody noses. After 300 years of use (America is 233 years old... put that in your pipe and smoke it.) they began quarrying stone for use in other structures around the city, such as the Vatican. Today was the first day of Digital Italy, my digital photography class, and our assignment was to partner up and take portraits of one another through out the arena. After a few hours in the sunshine, more and more "Happy-Knees" flooded the place, all wearing they're neon yellow hats, following an antenna with a flower at the top... it cracks me up when they carry around a huge tripod with a tiny point and shoot attached... I also saw a guy with two SLR cameras attached to each other, side by side- so whatever the left camera didn't get, he'll have the exact same photo,  one centimeter to the right.

After a morning in the "Arena of Moss," I enjoyed a peanut butter, orange honey and banana sando and a holy apple (I "borrowed" it from the Convent... don't tell God), we worked our way over to the Forum and started at the Arc of Titus. Assignment #2 was to play with our aperture settings and spend time walking through what's left of the ancient civilization... located between Palanitine Hill and Capitoline Hill, Caesar's stomping grounds began as a city of brick and he left it a city of marble (though many of the temples were destroyed and rebuilt several times). I hoofed it up the hill to the stadium... a huge field littered with doric column remnants that now rest peacefully in green grass. Walls jutted up to the sky, only to abruptly stop where stone thieves had helped themselves to materials for their own palaces. Little remains of the ancient ghost town, but what's left behind, lends much to the imagination of life 2,000 years ago and how urban spaces were utilized by our precursors. The only living beings are "The Watchers" and the ear mites that live in "The Watchers"... the mangy felines that stand watch over the graves of ancient militants.

After a lame day of class (!), we climbed to the top of "The Wedding Cake"- the national monument of Victor Emmanuel (1st president of unified Italy) to enjoy a great view of the city. Made of pure, white marble Corintian columns, fountains and statues, this pompous box of frills is hard to miss, especially with Victor himself sitting high on top of Mr. Ed. Majestic staircases make you thirsty, so a few of us stopped at Trinity College (Irish Pub) for a Guiness. Back to the hotel for a chill night of photo editing and anticipation for Vatican City and Petey's Basilica manana! Chow chow :)

DAY 48: Sunday Funday!

Home is where the heart is. I have taken over the armoire in our room, creating a wardrobe with Luigi’s internal organs and a pantry shelf of groceries. I put some love into this little closet, therefore creating a “moved-in” effect… Whatever works? Kate lent me some earplugs (don’t worry, they’re new) so I slept like a sloth last night. Some peeps went to the Roman market, others went to the Vatican to give the Pope a Hi-5, but I took a long run down the Tiber to the Colosseum. Running in cities has become my new favorite thing, especially along the rivers that constantly flow through the bustling metropolis… I love jammin’ with my headphones and an open mind. I felt good in a tank top and shorts and picked a hill to run/crawl up… I could hear ex-coaches screaming, “Pick up your knees Connolly!” Not only was I out of breath by the top, but I had my breath taken away. I realized that I had reached Palantine Hill and there in front of me, haulting my stride, rested the Colosseum. THE COLOSSEUM. You know, that stadium that has survived 2,000 years worth of earthquakes, fires and pillaging galore? The place that retains thousands of gladiator and wild animal’s souls who fought to their deaths in front of epic crowds… The place where America’s Next Top Model did a photo-shoot for Solstice Sunglasses- OMG. I may have to come back for the 2020 Olympics to get the full effect… I ran down through the Forum to Capitoline Hill and back around the Colosseum through hoards of tourists. How is it possible to keep getting “one-upped” each day? Just when I think nothing can top Ninja Turtles, the Colosseum has to fluff its feathers and show off. I am IN the moment in The Eternal City…

Today was our free day but “JC” or “Conga’” (Jeff Conger, professor #2) and “Harvetron” took a few of us to the Museo de Arte Contempranea Roma… the museum where only the crazies can show off their shit… literally. I wish I had never seen a cool Contemporary Museum, because now I hope and pray that the next will be just as stellar, but I have been miserably let down… HOW is spreading one’s own fecal matter all over paper, with one’s own hand, qualify as beautiful? That means every infant in the world is an artist! I want to hide inside the mind of a crazy person… like “Beverly” whom we passed on the Bus #38. Head-to-toe purple velour, nappy dreads twisted into a turban on her peculiar russet head, leading a suitcase around like a Shetland pony. She was laughing, crying, yelling and arguing with Casper and her suitcase- which I can relate to since Luigi tends to rub me the wrong way. It was bizarre. Our B.O. receptacle a.k.a. bus nearly made a pancake out of her… “Harvetron” realized we were on the wrong bus and needed a cappuccino, so we bailed at “Hector the Collector’s” digs… homeless homie had garbage bags piled into a fort. How many found objects does it take to make a happy home? He was FULL of needless information concerning the bus system in general and  "Laws of Attraction between Amphetmines and The Alphabet. Crack kills man… ass crack and mass crack. “The Harv” drug us into ANOTHER church (I know it’s Sunday, but really?) and as I drifted in, sulking with the pigeons, I was AWESTRUCK. Bernini, you little devil you! “The Ecstasy of St. Teresa” is only THE sculptural masterpiece of the High Roman Baroque… striking body language (tense toes) with somewhat mysterious grins. The two "show stoppers" are flanked by theater boxes holding members of the Cornaro family looking on in anticipation…  short story long:

“I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the iron's point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared to me to be thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails; when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it. The soul is satisfied now with nothing less than God. The pain is not bodily, but spiritual; though the body has its share in it. It is a caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the soul and God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who may think that I am lying.”

The pain is so great, she doesn’t want him to stop. A lot of art historians are convinced she is experiencing the big “O”… ‘nuf said. Padre was selling some boozen’remedies in the back… I gave in to homemade orange honey (Peanut butter, honey and banana sandos...I know, right?) and some 90% alcohol digestive tincture (that’d be 180 proof). Dose responsibly! Hopefully it helps the tum-tum… or I’ll be dead, problem’s solved one way or another.

We celebrated Caroline’s birthday a day early (doesn’t exist because of Leap Year) by grabbing pizza and beers and crawling around some pubs, that eventually led us to Mood… a dance club that had doves cooing when we walked in and 32 minutes you couldn’t hear yourself think. Or move for that matter. We got our Beyonce on and made friends with the bartender which resulted in paying for 2 of 10 cocktails… maybe it does pay to be tall and blond? In bed around 2:30 a.m.- plenty of sleep for a day at the Colosseum tomorrow! Ciao, yawn, ciao…

DAY 47: “Illegaliens"

I feel for Grizzly Adams… I now know what it’s like to sleep in a bear den… a lovely cold has been passed around the group (probably because we share everything) and due to congestion, my roommates, who shall remain anonymous, snored so loud, they could’ve awakened the Pope. Even with my noise/people/world cancelling headphones on, the nasal blockage penetrated through… might have to write Bose a letter of complaint. I considered going out for a walk but it was raining… damn. Can you imagine being an insomniac in prison? You would then be passed on to the Loony Bin… After about 3 torturous hours of rolling around on a roll-away, I got ready for the day… we had to catch a bus to get up to the Bourgese gardens (“The Harv” didn’t want to hoof it…) and along comes the Barbie minivan… you know the battery powered kiddy cars that rev up to 5 miles an hour and come to a screeching halt when you take your foot off the gas? We packed all 16 of us in like sardines and puttered up the hill- it was hilarious.

We arrived in Candyland (Galleria de Bourgese)… it is a huge park, north of the city with ancient fountains of old horse busts spraying water out into shallow pools of wishful change… Cyprus trees that kiss the clouds and statues of chivalrous heroes mounted on their patina’d steed… Snack wagons thwarting traffic with roasted peanuts and rainbows of gelato mounds… families chased each other on Segways and roller blades… lovers fondled on vast green lawns… peddlers romancing flutes and violins… dogs played “I’ll-sniff-your-butt-if-you-sniff-mine.” All under 65-degree sunrays… I could’ve wasted the day laying in a garden, watching the clouds race each other. But, there was much Bernini to be seen in the Museo Bourgese and little time to be spent indoors before my UV requirement kicked in.

Greek Mythology makes me sweat with glee… Bernini is a master a la marble and created some of THE BEST sculptures I’ve ever seen- and I’ve seen A LOT. Remember when I stated that, sculpture from now on, will have to slap me conscious to leave an impression? Well Bernini filled a chainmail glove full of rocks and went to town on my mug. My fav: Apollo e Dafne… he depicted how dangerous love is among the God’s. It was, the MOMENT, Apollo captures Daphne- just as he touches her, she turns into a tree. Leaves stemmed from her fingertips and toes while bark wraps up and around her waist to her long curl hair that transforms into branches. They were completely off balance, yet so solid (isn’t every good relationship?). The passion in their faces was heartbreaking… as if they were saying good-bye for the last time. Now he’ll go and sit under this beautifully gnarled tree everyday, lost and defeated by love. I was positively enraptured that stone could tell such a tale.

After my fix of passion for the day, we wandered to a lake on which swans and quackers dodged numbered canoes… again with the tourists… didn’t they know I wanted to enjoy Rome sans the screaming children in floatation devices? Weaving our way back to the center of the city, we enjoyed views of the city below us and sauntered down the Spanish steps; which forced me to contemplate filming here… how on Earth do they dispose of ALL these people?! Especially the “Illegaliens” (you can figure that one out…) that practically force rose stems in your palm and making farting noises when you reject them. I threw my arms up at one man who was shoving them in my face, nearly knocking the bouquet out of his hand… he threatened my family’s life. A majority of us stopped for some grub at L’Enotec Antica, a happenin’ wine bar with the typical Italian cuisine… I mowed some crepes filled with spinach and ricotta under fresh tomato sauce. That hit the spot for the rest of the day as I ventured off on my own- much needed solo time. They closed off Via del Corso (biggest shopping street in the city) and because of the weather, everyone, and their mother and her Bridge Club decided to meander also… I picked up a few art supplies and enjoyed string quartets flanking shop corners and break dancers drawing crowds in church squares. My dogs were HOWLING when I arrived at the hotel, just in time to meet Jeff Conger, our other professor (who will soon have a significant nickname) on this wonderful trip we’re disguising as school. (I’ve learned more in the last 47 days than any college semester taught me- BY FAR.) We joined forces once again and single-filed it over the Tiber to a church that was (surprisingly) in mass. Golden mosaics dwelled high in the altar, simmering down on a full choir who broke into gospel just as we walked in… I stood, literally breathless, as chills ran up my spine. It was the most moving 30 seconds of my life… I never would have thought something like that would touch me so greatly, but the angelic voices that serenaded their humble audience in the vast, candle lit room was incredible.

I tried to top angels in song with walnut and coconut gelato, but to no avail… church wins the gold tonight. After watching The Notebook for the umpteenth time, I hit the hay- earplugs intact. Sunday-Funday in Roma manana! Chow chow ch-ch-ch-chow.

DAY 46: UnCONVENTional

Had the best night of sleep EVER last night… “Abdul” must’ve slipped some opium in my grapefruit sherbet because Dorothy and I frolicked with Toto through the poppy fields of Oz. Took a run along the Tiber River with Katie this morning… light sprinkling of rain, perfect in t-shirts and shorts. The water is a contaminated cess-stream of watered down diarrhea… you would definitely grow some tentacles and extra eyeballs if you fell in… must be where they got the idea for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Thankfully I stretched my ligaments out from rolling my ankles in basketball, I can’t hurt them if I tried… I almost fell down three times hurdling over broken sidewalks with tree roots jutting up. Breakfast at the hotel is pretty ehhh… I don’t trust things that come in individual plastic packages, especially bread… so it was yogurt and coffee for me.

There is a very special exhibit of Caravaggio’s greatest works, from museums around the world, all in an old horse barn. Yep, right where the royal mews grazed and neighed… evident by the wide staircases that spiral up for thoroughbreds to trot up to the second floor. This guy died when he was 39 and almost all of his work was painted in a 10-year period… Out.Stand.Ing. His still life’s of food look like photographs… you just want to grab an apple out of the basket and take a big bite. Brow wrinkles and leaf veins, oh baby, oh baby. Because he was young, he enjoyed portraying lively, young people with amazing emotion and animation…  He is synonymous for his “darks”- heavy black background with his figures centralized and lit up from within. My favorite thing about his style is that the light source is never actually known- it is never IN the actual painting. My second favorite thing is that he and Serena Williams would get along like peas and carrots- he KILLED a man during a tennis match! Serena chew’s broads up and spits them out like Bubbleyum everyday, but I can only imagine what some guy did to piss Caravaggio off enough to be murdered over a game of tennis. I’m as competitive as they come, but I don’t think I could beat someone to a pulp with a Wilson… half of Rome decided to show up to see Carvy and pushing through chillin and oldies made me feel like I was playing rugby against blind kids… I don’t want to shove, but they don’t move! And then rounding up the whole group to leave is a treat… “Doesn’t play well with others” should be on my business card. (that’d bring clients in the door) I don’t do well in group settings… from field trips in 4^th grade to Jellystone to field trips 15 years later in Rome- my dominance takes over and I feel like I’m herding cats…

Speaking of cats… seagulls have over run the pigeons and cats have over run the seagulls. I watched a man ride his bike through a square, with a fat, yellow cat on his shoulders… he got off, put down his bike and threw “Puss&Boots” on a leash! He just layed in the sun while paparazzi snapped mug shots… Now that the wolf pack know how much I loath dirty birds- let me clarify: I LOVE dirty birds, when they involve Grey Geese… not Grey Pigeons… they run and stomp pigeons in my direction so they fly directly at my face… evil. I grabbed a piece of mushroom pizza and sat on the Spanish Steps, basking in the sun with 4,500 other people. Word to the wise, if you aren’t in the mood to be around people, DON’T spend the day in the heart of Rome. After walking around to find closed churches (every one we walked to was on “siesta”… God has to eat lunch too…), we decided to bag it and found a wine bar called ‘Gusto. “The Harv” joined 5 of us girls and we talked shop- make-up, fashion, Johnny Depp… all his favorite topics. After some yummy Aglianico Del Taburno, we strolled home in the sun and passed out at the hotel for 3 hours- much needed snooze….

Only to wake up in a Convent. No, I’m wasn’t dreaming… we literally walked down a few blocks to have dinner, (breath in) with NUNS. Apparently you can stay there, eat there, pray there, git yer hair did there… “Harvitron” made reservations in the basement (I really wish I could look inside all of your heads right now and see what kind of picture you are painting of this scenario…) and we feasted on, to start: soup- lentil-ish puree with noodles… surprisingly tasty. Second: fried fish with fried mashed potato tubes (basically mushy tater tots)… not tasty, surprisingly. Third: grilled cheesy fennel and salad… ehhh. Finally: crème puffs and an orange. The nuns were very friendly and attentive- happy to be doing what they were doing… I was having torrential stomach pains from all the dairy I’m stubbornly weaning myself off of. Called it a night, can’t keep up with all these young pups J

Villa Bourgese (huge park, zoo, lake, etc.) tomorrow, supposed to be B-E-A-Utiful! Ciao!

DAY 45: Gargeous, just gargeous

Why is it that Luigi eats 8 times more than I do, and I have to haul his ass around? I have knots in my shoulders the size of tennis balls... waking up to feed your green monster 4 hours after attempting to sleep while turn table tectonics bounce off your skull is so fun, give it a whirl sometime... quiche lorraine for the trip to Rome, on the short bus no less, how fitting for the Artists Guild of Geekdom. The bus driver picked Luigi up, looked at me, farted, and said I was crazy for carrying around a child that eats cake... birth control buddy, birth control. I gave Roo a nice bottle of Syrah from the market I'd been saving, and as I picked him up, he dropped it on the sidewalk. Yes it broke, and I contemplated violence, but that is never the answer, so I pouted and stomped on to the midget space shuttle on wheels. Sad to leave Firenze behind, stoked for Roma... but in the mean time, all I wanted was my Thermarest packable pillow and sound/people/world canceling headphones. The drive really was nice and sunny- tall villas peeked out over cyprus trees along the hillsides, with vineyards greeting visitors along serpentining dirt roads. Trees spread like coffee cake with sage sprigs planted mindlessly yet methodically around stranded castles... not sure why anyone would want to live here...

When in Rome... you get dropped off on the street, watch your life flash before your eyes as car whiz by, snatching eyelashes as you waddle out to retrieve the aerosol can rolling into traffic. They must get points on their license for nailing pedestrians... not penalty points... rewards points. "For every tourist you hit, you'll receive 3 free nights at the Marriot with complimentary breakfast"... once at the hotel (NOT THE MARRIOT), we changed out of our bus clothes that smelled like sewage (anyone that walked onto that bus would get a 1-2 blow to the snot box and drop dead...) and headed to "The Greatest Building on Earth," according to "The Harv." When I questioned why the "Pantheon" was the greatest, he demanded I find something grander... "Alrighty then!" So this entity really is the cat's ass...  the generic term "pantheon" refers to any building that honors the dead. I wonder if the milk crate I stuck over the irrigation ditch honoring the dead gophers and cats I buried as a kid could be considered a Pantheon? It's safe to say that this Pantheon has a little more planning and thought incorporated than my milk crate... Finalized in 118 A.D. in dedication to the Roman gods, it boasts a perfectly symmetrical dome with a central opening (oculus) hovering high above a marble floor. It is still the world's largest unreinforced concrete dome... the mother of all domes.


Following the Pantheon came another church, a grocery store, an apple with Ritz crackers and a leisurely stroll around... t-shirt weather pleases me, greatly. Almost as much as coffees the size of my head... they just like to tease you here... a little sip. Maybe it's a good idea to ween myself off of caffeine for good? Maybe I can voluntarily walk into oncoming traffic?  We all met at 7:30 to eat at a pizzeria that had a line around the corner- not gonna happen with 15 peeps. Sooo, Plan B = the next best, which, of the 50, 000 pizzerias, I'm uncertain what the next best would be... regardless, this place definitely was not the next best, but it was next door. Fulfilling my craving for vegetables was a must, so a salad with mushrooms, beans, tomatoes and olives... could have had worse, but definitely could have had a lot better... following dinner we checked out the ever GARGEOUS (that is gorgeous and gargantuan's love child) "Fountain of Neptune"... extra gargeous at night... lit up like Rockafellar, but with twice as many Japanesers... "The Harv" took us to a special little gelato shack... I've learned not to eat gelato that is spilling over in vats, with bells and whistles screaming at you... places that store the goods in time capsules that slowly raise up out of the counter with the help of dry ice and a martian with a remote control... "Abdul" wouldn't let me sample any... I asked, "How will I know if I like it?" And informed him that sampling was half the fun... He must've backed over his cat this morning, because he looked at me like I was THE stupidest blond in Rome... and there are 2.6 million people here, not counting tourists, so I took that as quite the compliment and ordered Grapefruit sorbet- spectacularly lickable, chunks of fruit, yummers. 


Potential to sleep like a dead person tonight is massive... been burning the candle at both ends and have a big day in Roma tomorra! Ciao!