And So it Ends

Well I guess I never got around to talking about SupperClub (an enjoyable evening despite turning expensive at a renowned place where we leaned back on white bed/couches while dining, watching a former-he play violin, getting massages, and "flying" with a man in a prom dress and wings singing that he could teach us to be better people), and didn't even mention our spontaneous trip the the US Embassy, courtesy of Tom's marine friend, but as I write my final post concerning this amazing trip from my bedroom in Virginia I've decided there are more important things to discuss.

Erin and Alyssa left Thursday (as opposed to the Friday-or-later departure most of us shared), so we made a nice little pasta dinner and had Jeff over for a second. Hannah was moving into our place after we left so she and Carly came over, and though Hannah, Meghan, and I had Claudio's paper the next day, we went for one last drink across the street with Erin and then were lured into yet another night at the Abbey.

Friday were the dreaded Emperor's and Archeology finals, and though we were all ready to go let off some steam and enjoy our final night together, the truth was that there was considerable packing yet to be done. After that Meghan and I headed back into the center one last time, and got one last dinner with Hannah, Jeff, and Dan at il Baffetto, the delightful pizza place right across from (where else?) Abbey. Hannah tried to treat us all courtesy of Daddy Heller, but alas they did not take cards. It's the thought that counts, dear;). Went and met up at Abbey afterwards, and savored every last moment, sharing hugs and memories until they were ready to close. Carly had Daygum and caramels (as well as a really thoughtful note) for all of us, crazy numbers of pictures were taken, and then it was time to go.



As we were walking out, Meghan and I on a whim decided to walk through our dear Piazza Navona one last time, and who do we come across but some of our male friends, who were on their way to check out the Pantheon and Trevi Fountain one last time. Obviously we accompanied them, which was a very nice conclusion to our final night, and then it was really time for the goodbyes.

By the time we made it back and took care of the last bit of our packing, there was only about an hour for sleeping before I had to get ready to go to the airport. My bags were heavy and incredibly cumbersome, and were it not for a nice Filipino man named Alex who came to my assistance on my way from Piramide to the Ostiense train station I think all might have been lost. My flights were just fine (a little delayed leaving JFK, but nothing serious), and here I sit.

It's so strange to be home, because I feel like such little time has passed here. I feel like almost nothing has changed; I feel like it should be the end of summer and I should be getting ready to enter my fall semester again. I look at pictures from the trip and already it seems like a whole different lifetime... and what a fantastic lifetime it was. I miss you all so much already, and can't wait for the day, whenever that may be, that we meet again. You have touched my life in so many ways and I'm thankful for every one of you. Thank you so much for sharing this amazing experience with me, and while Carly was nice and personal with her handwritten notes, you all know how I love the internet so I'll give you each your own little blurb here.

Meghan: My dear little roommate, my partner in crime, I am so fortunate to have shared half of a living room with you all semester. We were so similar in so many ways, and always succeeded in convincing the other to go out and partake in bad decisions, or simply stay in and partake in bad decisions such as the breaking of strainers or the learning of the Soulja Boy dance. I never thought I'd find someone who enjoyed late-night running as much as I did, and I think all of our Piramide workout sessions definitely helped to burn off all those pizza calories. I'm going to miss you so much, and really want to come to Cali soon! Make sure Santa Clara's ready for the disaster that will ensue.

Erin: Mine and Meghan's sometimes roommate, always popping your head in when things were getting boring, I'm pretty sure things would have completely unraveled on more than one occasion without your "OCD"-ness and keeping things under control. Thanks for always looking out for us, for offering advice, for keeping things in perspective. Hopefully I can find someone at UVA next semester with your wisdom, but I doubt it. I'm glad I could be there for you finally learning to cook, and I hope you wow everyone at U of I with your amazing pasta preparing abilities. I love Chicago so I'll be damned if I don't see you sometime in the near future.

Alyssa: The fourth of our foursome... we didn't spend as much time together as I would have liked but we did have our moments, from the first night (your birthday!) stealing toilet paper from the boys and relying on you entirely to find a taxi for us (thanks to that nice garbage man), to having an old man tell us we were ugly (and responding by telling him we had AIDS too), to me totally crashing your and Amaechi's night at Gilda (you'll never get those 10 minutes of your life back that we had to sit drinking water in the bar across the street... oops). I hope you're feeling better, and I hope someday you succeed in securing the life in Rome you want so dearly!

Carly: How does the baby of the group become the most responsible? Words couldn't describe how happy Meghan and I were that you were coming to Barcelona, not only because you're a blast, but because our flight back home was sure to go smoothly! And then who would we have had to suggest piercing sessions, or to say hilarious things like, "It was on mah bed, so Ah took it!"? You were always down to have a good time, and on top of that always made sure everyone else was, and you always were looking out for everyone as well. So many roles to fill, and you did it splendidly. Again, love Chicago, plan on seeing me around.

Hannah: Every group needs its good Jew girl to make latkes for them during Hannah-kuh, and I'm glad ours got to be you. Every group also needs its girl to make absolutely inappropriate but hilarious comments every 5 minutes or so, and again, glad it was you. From that night at Random Bar playing 10 fingers (where you got to be the first to make use of our greatly-utilized couches) to watching Madonna at our bar and hitting up Abbey despite massive paper writing to do (when, coincidentally, you also slept on our couch. Or Erin's bed. Whatevs), you definitely always added a new element to the group, and one that none of us would ever have opted to do without! I'm so glad you didn't get traded for camels in Tunisia, and I personally think Jersey's just fine as a state, so I bet I could even arrange a visit there. (Virginia's nice too... PS... any of you are welcome and encouraged to come see me too!)

Kathleen: I really just need to stop commenting on how funny people are, because as I get to each new person I realize that you're all... well... funny. I think I might have gotten my first appreciation of this that night you ran gung-ho into the Mediterranean (for privacy purposes I'll leave out the humorous details... everyone who knows knows), and then the next day commented on how you were the only one to fall forward jumping off the cliff. I correctly ascertained from that point that you would definitely make any evening more interesting, but on top of that you were also such a great asset to Maurizio's classes with your knowledge of art and all that. I have a lot of friends in NYC, so next time I'm there I'm gonna need someone to show me around Brooklyn:).

Kathryn: I feel like I didn't really get to know you that well til the end of the trip, but I'm really glad I did. We had a great time at Chianti, just chilling and relaxing... and eating... a lot... and it was great having a fellow vegetarian in the group! And as much as you hated it then, I hope you can laugh now at the awfulness we witnessed as you stumbled through the train after Cinque Terre with your cankles. After being around all of us uncultured wine bingers I hope you have a new appreciation for being the classy wine lady back home, where I will certainly see you since I can't think of a good reason NOT to go to Santa Clara after meeting all you fine Californians.

Kelly: I've always wanted to know a professional jazz vocalist, and now I can say that I do. We could always count on you to keep crazy Claudio in check (well, make an effort in any case... homeboy's out of control), or to participate when no one else could in response to Daria's confusing Italian ramblings. Congrats on living the dream and scoring an Italian chap, and hope you got to curl up with a book in front of a fire in Montana just like you always wanted.

Dan: Ohhhhh Daniel. Mr. Drama himself. But you know what, we love you for it, and without you, what would we had to toast to at the Holiday Bonanzaaaaa? And whose pants would I have gotten to shove a beer up at the pub crawl? Or have call me out on my statement liking myself and pub crawl love to bumblebees? Or teach me about "moosey moosey moosey" (which, by the way, my dad has a habit of saying to my dog Moose)? Or take 7 euro scotch to the face with? Or cook me quesadillas? Or... ok well you get it. Bottom line, I've had a great time with you this semester, see you in Cali.

Ben [Curly]: So you don't keep the kitchen clean, you threw garbage under the funiculare in Naples, and tact certainly isn't your forte, but I've definitely had my share of good times with you this semester. You always had insightful contributions in class or an argument to make, you always wanted to keep thing interesting and I wish I had taken the initiative to interact with Italians like you did. Spicing up our hike in Cinque Terre with early morning limoncello and prosecco was fun, and while I think everyone would have loved to see you actually try to chug the garum in Naples, making you sweat over it was fun too. And... who could forget Colin's t-shirt? Anyway, have fun in hippie-ville, it's been real.

[Other]/[Regular] Ben: The one who gave me the affectionate title of "Affordable" on Day 1 (don't worry, your royalties are in the mail)... it's always seemed such an enigma that we could have ultimately bonded so well over music when you look upon mine with such disdain. I'm glad you were able to look past that and maintain a friendship... taking awesome photos while lost in Cinque Terre, the million rides we don't remember at Oktoberfest, our 5 minute music excursion that took us an hour to get to, our third-try's-a-charm trip to Perugia... Well, we both know DC's not that far, and I do still need my pictures.

Jeff: El Jefe... my (and everyone else's) newly adopted "big brother"... I've really enjoyed getting to know you this semester, and especially these last few weeks. Always there if we were in a bind, always there to spice up the night with a few rounds of shots, always enthusiastic on the dance floor, you really just always tried to ensure everyone was having as much fun as you were. I don't think anyone will forget the "Jeff laugh," or doing the cowboy dance with you at Oktoberfest, and personally I still just am so appreciative of your help in Barcelona! I've never been to Boise, I hear it's beautiful, but if I don't work that into my travel schedule in the near future, Virginia has a lot to offer too:).

[Piccolo] Scott: You broke my glass table and terrified my roommate, I accompanied you to buy extravagant Prada purchases, you blew us all away by showing up on that beach in Positano (and immediately hitting the bar)... and this was all in the first week! But you know what, I love you for all of those things, and for so many other things we went through together (unfortunately concluding with a few bottles and some Marie Antoinette). I really would like to get together over break and I'm going to call you soon.

Pete: Well, I feel like I didn't see you a whole lot, but I did convince you to come try some latkes and I did almost break your nose when I lived up to my promise of kissing you goodbye-- on the lips. I guess maybe we scared you away a little (I mean, I don't blame you), but it was fun explaining to you how artists were crazy and listening to you bash the Rothko exhibit. Tell Long Island I said hey, and enjoy your Ralph Lauren ad campaign.

Big Scott and Tom: I'm really sorry to do this to you guys, but you really are the "Big Guys" to me. I pretty much laugh at everything you say or do, how you both act like you don't care about anything (but I think you're really just covering a soft interior), how you're both so Chicago, how I could always turn to you for a smoke... I mean, individually, Tom I forgive you for commandeering an entire pack at the embassy, and Scott, you WOULD get lost at Argentina on the way to Scholar's from your place. So perfect. On behalf of everyone, thank you for the insane amounts of drinks you guys both covered... whether you tried to make it apparent or so I think maybe you liked us a little bit after all. You promised you'd never see me again, but I do plan on hitting you up when I'm in Chicago.

Brendon: You were the seemingly quiet alternative artist in the corner who hung out at rock clubs and took smoke breaks with the Big Guys, so I guess I probably always had a little crush on you for that. Thanks for walking me back from the rock club that time and sharing your cigarettes. Good luck with all your artistic pursuits, maybe I'll see you in Rolling Stone someday.

Katy, Manon, Omar, and Morgan: Again, sorry to lump you all into one category, but you guys kind of came in one awesome design-kids package! I didn't get to hang out with you guys as much most of the kids, but when I did it was always a good time. Katy-- I've always really respected how you made the huge huge decision to come out to Italy from Iowa, and I'm so glad you did. It seems like you are too, and good luck with all your future happenings in Europe. Manon-- you were always hilarious in Italian and I'm glad we got to introduce you to your first Thanksgiving! If you're interested in another I'm sure any of us would be more than happy to host you in the States. Omar and Morgan (just realized I'm not actually friends with her on facebook and she probably won't ever see this... oh well), same goes for you! It's been great knowing you guys this semester.

Alright... I think I got everyone... if not that's really embarrassing. Thanks again for everything, I love you all. And maybe it's corny but I wrote a song on the plane (while in the process of drinking my airplane bottles) and here it is...

i crack the plastic on the case of five small bottles i bought.
they will be empty before the hour's done.
to go from twenty good companions to this stale air seems wrong,
and though it's crowded, i feel like i have no one.

i'll cross some mountains and an ocean and i'll sleep (hopefully)
and then i'll land and set my watch back six hours.
and wish it made a difference and that it was four months
so i could relive that part of my life that time's devoured.

our last night at the abbey was a sight to behold
as we clung to each other til the lights came on.
i was called a little sister and i was called a friend,
tell me how can those people be gone?

well we knew that in that moment that that moment was our last,
as we were to disperse across a large foreign nation.
in that outlet of emotion, though my heart it felt sad,
my eyes offered no indication.

Forza Roma

Two posts in two days... didn't think it was possible did you? Well my room is a disaster, so naturally I'm employing any means available to put that off. And I do have una partita di calcio to discuss!

So Alyssa's a big soccer aficionado and had really hoped to make it to the Rome v. Manchester United game, but her friends told her the tickets were upwards of 100 euro, and that is definitely not in my budget. Well her friends are high rollers, and were looking in the expensive section right on the field. I, on the other hand, was having fond memories of the Justin Timberlake concert I viewed from the next to last row at JPJ, and was eager to relive those glory days. Such tickets ran us an easy 15 euro, and I covered Erin for her and her family's generosity with my whole wallet robbery incident (her dad and aunt insisted on putting money in her account so I could have some cash... seriously so helpful), and last Wednesday we were ready to get our European soccer on.

My roommates and I donned our Roma scarves and hopped on the metro... and being 20 something females we were chatting, perhaps a little loudly, and oh yeah... in English. This drew attention to us, and an Italian man was like, 'You are not for Manchester?' And we explained, 'No no! Forza Roma!'
'But you are speaking English?'
'We're American... not English.'
'Oh... you are American? And you cheer for Rome?'
'Yes, we live here.'
'In Rome?'

In any case, he was very baffled that English speakers would be decked out in Roma gear, and we were a little concerned that this might cause controversy among soccer hooligans. Mostly, however, we were just excited, so we met up at the Ostiense girls' place, and headed out to Olympic Stadium.

r-O-M-A? we tried...

Two bus rides later we were at the stadium, and, as per usual, running late, and therefore running. Unfortunately this resulted in a wipeout on Kathryn's part, complete with skinned knee and rolled ankle, so in our haste we ended up getting set further back, and missed kickoff. When we arrived at the stadium, it was just to the wonderful news that our section was closed. Still not entirely sure why, but the closing of our section did quarantine the Manchester fans so to speak, so it may have been a safety precaution in response to the stabbings that had happened before the game.



We were afraid we'd have to stand on a landing the whole time, but spied some seats in my coveted position in the next to last row, and so made our way to higher altitudes. It was a lot of fun. Our language difference did draw some attention from the two groups of Italian teens in front of us in the form of some awkward stares, but nothing more serious than that. Totti scored the first goal but was offsides, Manchester scored before the first half was over and it was legitimate, so the one point spread kept us on the edge of our seats. We tied it up towards the end of the second half and had a few really close shots, but couldn't pull off the win.



With only about five minutes left Meghan suggested we go sit on the stairs where it was sure to be warmer, and where there were more people who were more into it. I've never seen Italians act more Italian than sitting next to a 50 year old Roma fan jerking his hands in all directions til I thought they were going to fall off and issuing, with great conviction, all of the Italian curses I grew up hearing my mom tsk tsk my dad for using.

We soon learnt that the Italian youth preferred English curse words, as we had some obscenities slung at us in our native tongue while regrouping afterwards, but I guess I'll take that over a stab wound any day. All in all had a great time with some very European entertainment, and even made it out in time to catch the Metro home, which is always a bonus.

The Much Anticipated Barcelona Post

I know I've been just abysmal in my posting habits, and unfortunately in these last few days blogging is not going to be high on my list of priorities as far as final activities go. Which is even more unfortunate, because I'm probably going to have more to blog about than normal, since we're trying to make every moment count. After Barcelona, expect a brief Roma/Manchester United game post, the Holiday Bonanza post, the Supperclub post, and whatever else I end up doing until that time.

But first things first, my successful trip to Barcelona. Successful is the first word that comes to mind, because there was much doubt concerning whether we'd make it out of Spain on time. Despite a terrible reputation for never seeming to quite make transportation to work out in my favor, Meghan and I were too attracted to the prospect of a round trip flight for 20 euro to allow minor details like that fact that we needed to be on the bus to the airport at 5:45 Sunday morning to sway us. When Carly informed us that she went ahead and booked the same flight, our hopes of a successful journey were lifted, but nothing was assured. But we weren't concerned with any of that on Thursday, Friday, or Saturday, so we decided to cross that bridge when we came to it.

It would be false to imply that we ran into NO trouble concerning transportation, because as we were heading to the airport those rascally little metro guards at Termini were quick to pounce on me for not having a Metro pass (oh yeah, my wallet was stolen the Tuesday before and I was left penniless, credit-card-less, and Metro-card-less right before leaving the country for a weekend. Cute.) and Carly and Meghan for using Student Metro cards that are reserved for only Italian students... fines may have been issued, our spirits may have suffered a blow immediately prior to having a great weekend, but that is neither here nor there anymore.

So we get on the plane, get on the hour long bus to Barcelona's center, spend 20 minutes trying to find our way out of the bus station and to the Metro (it was a small station too haha), spend 10 minutes trying to find the right bus stop at Plaza Catalunya (which was happily decked out for Christmas, or "Festes," as they say in that language they speak in Spain that I'm so familiar with... Catalan) once we get off the metro, walk the wrong way down the main drag, but finally, at around 9:30 make it to our Sea Pointe Hostel (which, as the name indicated, was RIGHT on the beach... so nice... probably nicer in summertime but we still enjoyed the setting), and were STARVING. Jeff and Dan made it to town hours earlier, and we were hoping to find them sleeping, but no dice. Our phones only work so much of the time in Italy, so in Spain we weren't planning on relying on them much, not to mention mine was dead and Carly's out of minutes, but somehow we managed to get in touch with the boys and they came and met us at a bar called Foc.

Foc clearly left itself wide open for some controversial cocktail names, so we started the evening with some Quick Focs, then moved onto a delightful fare of nachos. That's Spanish right? I mean, "nachos" is certainly a Spanish word, so they must be from Spain. Then I got some crazy salmon-crepe dish that I'm not entirely sure was Spanish either, but it was damn good, so I'm not complaining. And despite our intentions of taking advantage of Spain's late-night culture, we were all exhausted from traveling, so we sat on the beach listening to the boys' tales of their trip to Tunisia, then headed to bed.

Were up before the complimentary breakfast shut down at 10, and made our way along the port to the Maritime museum, where they were hosting the Bodies Exhibition (<= that's a link, if you want a detailed and graphic explanation of the exhibit) that Jeff had seen in Phoenix and claimed we absolutely had to see. He is a paramedic, and Carly is studying to be a pharmacist, so they were really into the biological significance of it. And yes, it was a very fascinating experience, but it took me a little while to get over the idea that these were real, human bodies that I was observing, scrutinizing, viewing on a level that nature doesn't readily allow. The whole time I was just asking myself who these people used to be, what they used to do... I guess I couldn't help trying to give them a personality, because they were really people. After that, we grabbed some lunch. Naturally.

We were on the way to the Dali museum, but along the way we passed London Bar, which apparently is famous or something. In any case, we decided that, seeing as how it was famous and all, it would be appropriate to stop in and have a drink. The Irish pub a little down the street also seemed like and appropriate place to stop in, and soon we were far less interested in the Dali museum than in the piercing salon around the block. Carly commented that Jeff would look good with an eyebrow piercing, Jeff offered to pay to get Meghan's second holes pierced, and in spite of an asserted fear of needles, Dan was pressured into joining the fun. Because in situations where one's masculinity is questioned and testosterone kicks in, sometimes you just have to get your tragus pierced. At least I think that's how the saying goes. I seriously considered giving into my wishes for a Monroe piercing after all this time, but conditions of employment at Omni played the role of the angel on my shoulder, and the angel won out.





Before we did something really crazy like getting the letters of S-P-A-I-N tattooed on our necks or something, we decided it might be a good idea to have some downtime on the port. Especially since Dan was pretty white in the face for awhile. Coincidentally it happened to be sundown, which was lovely. Afterwards, we went and checked out the huge market on La Rambla (Las Ramblas? I'm pretty sure we never decided on an official name...), then went for some tapas, then walked back towards our hostel for dinner so we'd be in an ideal location for changing and hitting up the clubs. Well the paella was fantastic, and apparently so was our discussion on immigration, because it kept us there until the restaurant closed after 1, and once again we decided we didn't have it in us to rally.

Saturday morning we realized that in reality, we hadn't experienced very much of Barcelona the day before, so we needed to cover our bases that day. The Dali and Picasso museums caught our interest, but we decided we weren't up for 4 hours of art intake, so the boys and I went to the Dali exhibit and Carly and Meghan went to Picasso. I determined that Dali was absolutely nuts, but he had some pretty neat stuff, and such a wide variety of styles that it was hard not to be impressed. The random pictures of him hanging out of helicopters or posing with a swan on his head or holding a nude woman's leg also kept us entertained. It was kind of nice to change it up from the Renaissance masterpieces we've been constantly bombarded with since our arrival in Rome haha. Met the girls at the Cathedral, which was closing, headed out for some good (though seriously lacking in the portions field) "modern" cuisine, saw the Arc de Triumf (they moved it from Paris... something about a transportation strike and Spaniards being more deserving than the French... I don't know, I don't understand European politics), and hopped on a metro to see Gaudi's church, La Sagrada Familia. Again, entirely different than any architecture we've witnessed in Rome, a clear tribute to Gothic structures, a cool experience to see the building of a cathedral as people 500 years ago would have witnessed the construction of the churches we now marvel at in their completion, but all in all very gaudy and a little excessive in my opinion. Fruit garnishes some of the spires and there's a large stone Christmas tree decorating the back entrance. I mean. I'm just saying.

Carly wasn't feeling well at this point, Dan needed minutes for his phone so he could contact his friend who was flying back to Barcelona where she was studying, we were all tired, and we needed to pick up our luggage from the hostel we were no longer checked in at. We were tired and a little cranky, and after sitting around the hostel for awhile waiting for a call from the friend, our hunger growing all the while, we decided to head out into the city and eat. After that our spirits were once again lifted, and right on cue Kim called. We were hoping the 'big church' she had said she lived near was the centrally-located and walkable Cathedral, but alas she was referring to Gaudi's church. This made us nervous in light of the early morning (or late night, as we really intended it) we knew we'd end up having. After meeting up with Kim and her roommate Meggan, we were very pleased to have a whole six euros get us to Pippermint, the crazy bar Kim took us to. In Virginia, it is illegal to serve a pitcher of a mixed drink. In Barcelona, our table shared a 6 liter rum and coke. Granted there were 9 of us and the ratio was pretty weak, but still. Loco.

After that we finally made it to a club and boogied down til we decided our time gap was closing for making our bus. Another couple cheap cabs got us back to Kim's place and then the bus station at 4, slept til the bus left, slept the whole bus ride, slept the whole plane ride. Traveling has really never been better!

So that's Barcelona, un tiempo muy bueno, so glad to have finally gotten there. It reminded me of just how much I love Spain, not that I don't love Italy (no hard feelings!), but it's really just so different. It has all the personality of Italy without all the kinks haha. At any time of day we could find someone spraying down the sidewalks to keep them clean. The Metro got you just about anywhere you could want to go in the city, and in a timely fashion, and it didn't close at 9 or 11:30. The city was a grid and traffic patterns made sense. I said at one point, when marveling at the efficiency and sensibility of Barcelona, "Ohhh Rome... you crazy little town." Dan corrected me: "Ohhh Rome... you crazy little ball of chaos."

But it's our little ball of chaos, and only for 5 more days:(. Still can't believe it. But now is neither the time nor place for the sappy farewell post... Stay tuned for updates on the other events in my life.

Chianti finally

I've been teasing you with a mysterious "Chianti" title for awhile, and at this point it seems like old news to me, so I'll give a short rundown of that. Hopefully I'll at least get to touch on Barcelona before tonight because I'm going to see the ROMA V. MANCHESTER UNITED game, and I have a feeling that will take precedent!

The Chianti trip was an optional trip to an agriturismo resort in Tuscany (yes, for those of you who watch The Office and recall Dwight's agritourism farm he runs on the side, it was like that, only with olives and wine). It was intended to be a weekend of relaxing and enjoying the finer things, and it was... good Tuscan cuisine, wine straight from the source that put our typical euro-fifty fare to shame, beautiful landscape, all within the comforts of a quaint, family-run villa. We arrived the Friday after Thanksgiving; took the train to Florence and were driven to the villa in Chianti. Had lunch (a nice assortment of crostini to start out with, then Papa di Pomodoro, which was a really awesome (but incredibly heavy) dish of bread and tomato, similar to an English pudding. We got to tour the vineyard that afternoon-- in the cellar of a building whose oldest feature, the tower, dated back to Medieval times, and which the proprietor's grandfather bought 60 years ago when he fell in love with Tuscan agriculture.

Had some down time, then an informal wine-tasting lesson where we learnt to observe the color and residue as well as use scent and the different areas of the mouth to determine different qualities of different wines. We're pretty much all experts now. Had an excellent dinner, and a great (and early!) night's sleep in bigger beds than we've seen in ages. Continental breakfast the next morning, then a tour of the olive oil plant, which was in a smaller building a bit further away. They have a snazzy new machine that even their competitors pay to use, but they've preserved the old rooms and barrels from when they used more traditional methods. Had another great lunch and were off.

Woo hoo, finally got that taken care of. I know I keep saying this but... pictures later?

Barcelona

come with me to barcelona.
we'll leave this prison life behind.
we'll make all our own decisions,
all the world just yours and mine.

i'm going to barcelona.
we'll find a cheap hotel to begin.
you can find work in a shop somewhere in the city,
and on the streets i'll play my violin.

i've set a course to barcelona.
you and me on the euro train.
come on baby, you know as well as i do
we've got everything in the whole world to gain.

i'm on my way to barcelona,
make up your mind, you know what's right.
pack up your bags, come on, we're leaving.
i'm making my escape tonight.


I wrote it in 9th grade and I'm finally going! Be back Sunday.

Thanksgiving (finally)

Mythology was canceled today which leaves me for a lot of time to sit around talking to Alyssa and her friend that's visiting, read my Italian Harry Potter book, and eventually get around to blogging about things that happened ages ago.

Thanksgiving clearly was a little different on foreign turf. First of all, we were scheduled to have school. While I was initially going to go, I decided to join the majority and instead start preparing for our makeshift holiday. We were recommended a few "American" grocery stores, and on the second try Erin, Kathryn, and I were actually able to find a majority of things we needed (yams, ginger, cloves) as well as some other things we had been missing (rootbeer for Erin!) but for the most part decided we could keep waiting and skip out on the marked-up price tags. Erin and I met Meghan back at home and then it was time to start trying to get her precious pumpkin pie together. We were eyeballing ingredients and using a wine bottle as a rolling pin and using square pans that didn't match our size requirements, so all in all we just had our fingers crossed tightly, and in the end it worked out fabulously. Good team effort under the leadership of our own dear Meghan!

We had intended that people come over around 5, and at that time we had a nice collection of girls around the hors d'oeurves... and then got a call from Hannah on behalf of one group of guys saying that they had JUST started cooking, and a call from Dan on behalf of his apartment asking if we had a potato peeler (in other words, the potatoes for the mashed potatoes had not even been peeled). We were slightly irritated, and decided to delve into our chips and dip and wine without them.

Oh, and how could I forget? Thanksgiving generally calls for turkey, and we really tried. Big Scott, despite the fact that he wasn't going to even be there, had ordered a 22 pound turkey, that was ready to be picked up from the butcher. Well, we were lacking know-how when it came to preparing a turkey, we were lacking a baster, and more importantly, we were lacking an oven that could contain such a massive bird. However, there was one thing we did have, and that was a rotisserie chicken place below our apartment. So we settled on three rotisserie chickens, to be picked up at 7. When the time came, Meghan, Aunt Meg, and myself went to get said chickens and some more wine, and when we returned our apartment (and especially kitchen) was packed! The men had finally arrived, and we couldn't even be mad anymore considering the huge quantity of grilled vegetables, baked apples, sliced fruit, olives, mashed potatoes, and wine they had brought, and the lovely batch of sangria Jeff was preparing in our sink. We cut up the chicken, whipped up some stuffing (courtesy of Dad:) ), brought everything out, and proceeded to have a wonderful evening: with 20 or so of us seated around a large table we had constructed out of our normal table and 3 desks, covered with a lovely tablescape (courtesy of Meghan's mom, as was the pumpkin pie filler:) ).

For dessert we had our lovely pies, cookies from the Ostiense girls, and a Nutella fondue with fruit and ladyfingers from Aunt Meg. Oh, and everyone had their own personal mini-bottle of dessert wine from Katy, Manon, and Morgan.

Everyone left stuffed and satisfied, Manon (who is Belgian), Morgan (who is South African), and Omar (who is Icelandic, and brought a Norwegian friend) experienced their first Thanksgiving ever, and all in all it was a great time! Thanks to everyone for contributing and coming to celebrate with us... It's a Thanksgiving I'm sure none of us will ever forget:).

A Religious Experience

Last night Meghan, Erin, Carly, and I got to talking about how Advent started today, and we'd like to go to mass, and Erin wanted to hear mass in Latin, and, oh why don't we go to the Vatican?

So we did... Kathleen and her parents were there as well and saved us seats, but no sooner had we sat down than one of the ushers approached and asked, in English, where we were from.

I responded, "America..." not sure where he was going with that, but my questions were soon answered. He said, "America... hmmm. Do you think you would like to do the second reading in English?"

I paused a moment and said, "Um... me?" He responded, "Yes, if you like."

I nervously agreed, delving back through my memories of doing the readings at St. Francis of Assisi in the Netherlands, and he led Erin (who he said could accompany me so I wouldn't be alone) and me to the front row, gave me the book, let me read the passage a few times, and then did a quick run through of the motions we were to go through. I couldn't believe I was going to be standing on the actual altar of the Vatican, speaking in the capital of the Catholic faith at mass! It was nearly overwhelming.

So the time came, I put on my coat as they had requested of me (despite the fact that my shirt was not low cut and I was wearing a sweater that covered my shoulders...), and then followed the first reader and choir man who was to sing the psalm between readings to the altar. A lot of incense had been released, and you couldn't really smell it from the pews but on the altar it was very strong. There were priests from all over the world in their violet Advent robes, and a Cardinal in red. The first reading was in Italian and to be honest I kind of zoned out to observe my surroundings... it was seriously so unreal to be standing there when I know so few have had that privilege... The choir man started singing the psalm, I bowed and walked behind him as instructed... He stepped off the platform and I took his place... and then the man who did the first reading took the English book down from the pedestal!

I looked down and whispered, "No... ho bisogno di questo..." and he motioned to the Italian book that was still there... the choir man stepped forward and tried to help me out and then the other man realized his mistake and replaced the book.

And then I read:

A reading from the letter of Saint Paul to the Romans:

"It is now the hour for you to wake from sleep, for our salvation is closer than when we first accepted the faith. The night is far spent; the day draws near. Let us cast off deed of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us live honorably as in daylight; not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual excess and lust, not in quarreling and jealousy. Rather, put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the desires of the flesh."

I looked to the choir, they started singing, I stepped down, the three of us bowed, and I took my seat. I was shaking by the time I got there, but it was such an absolutely amazing experience. In all honesty I thought it was an almost ironic reading to have chosen, as the things it preaches against pertain so directly to my generation in a lot of ways, and the fact that it was a letter to the Romans, and that just by pure chance I was to be chosen when just the day before I didn't even think mass was offered at the Vatican on Sundays (I know... I received false information early on and just went with it, but that notion is completely senseless...). It just really made the whole mass so much more significant (especially since through most of it Erin and I were struggling to find where we were in our programs haha), and it's something that I'll remember forever.

Erin laughed to me when I sat down, "Our guy [the usher who invited me to read] slid in next to me when you got up and said, 'You can take pictures of your friend if you want, you're not supposed to, but I won't say anything.' So I got a couple!"



Afterwards we went out to the square and listened to the Pope's address which followed the general theme of makings oneself ready for the coming of the Lord, and he made a brief address at the end to speakers of various languages... English, Spanish, Polish, a few others (Meghan: "Oh come on, he's just showing off now."), and then made our way back home.

So there you have it, one of the most unique and meaningful experiences I've had in Rome so far:).