Total Louvre-er

When I left the states to study abroad, I had no desire to travel to France. Yet somehow, I ended up in Paris last weekend and I am glad I did. The trip started out as a plan to meet some of my friends studying in London who would also be traveling to Paris that weekend, but due to complications and cell phones not working, this didn't happen, but I did have an ND Rome travel buddy.
I was only in Paris for two full days (got in late Wednesday night, left early Saturday morning) but I still accomplished a lot. I got to see Notre Dame Cathedral (and took really poorly executed hunchback pictures), the Musee D'Orsay (lots of Monets and Van Goghs etc.), the Louvre (too much art), the Eiffel Tower at night (its absolutely massive and it occasionally glitters!), Arc di Triomphe (not impressive, as there are a ton of triumphal arcs in Rome), the Moulin Rouge (smaller than I thought it would be and a little disappointing that Nicole Kidman wasn't singing on it), and the streets of Paris in general. Paris is beautiful--the streets are immaculately clean, the people are excellently dressed (very classic as opposed to the very trendy Italians), and the accents are great to hear. The food was also really good. Where Italians excel at gelato, the French prove their worth with pastries. I had my first crepe at the Quasimodo Cafe outside of Notre Dame cathedral and it was excellent, but the cappuccino I had was awful and only further proof that Italians really do know their coffee best (and that I shouldn't expect the best stuff from the "Quasimodo Cafe"). People were very friendly, which was surprising given the snobby French stereotype. However, fewer people spoke English in Paris than in Rome, which made it a little difficult to get by, considering the only French I know comes from Beauty and the Beast and the song Lady Marmalade. Italian seemed to work well, though, in helping us get along. One thing I noticed about Paris was that there were a lot more American chains like Starbucks and KFC (which was right next to competitor "Euro Fried Chicken"). Also, all the stereotypes about French people, besides the snobby one, are true. They really do wear berets and carry loaves of bread in their purses and have poodles. It kind of felt like a French theme park, with everything being exactly like I had expected, but a little better.
Outside the Louvre, someone offered to take my picture for me. He looked nice enough, so I handed him the camera and he turned around and walked off with it. It took me a second to stop posing and start shouting and walking towards him. He turned around and said "Just kidding!" and proceeded to tell me that he did this to teach me a lesson. French jerk.
That was only the start of my dislike of the Louvre. The Orsay was a much better museum with more recognizable artworks. The Louvre was just huge and contained every piece of art ever created that no one cares about (including a lot of Roman art that I've seen about a million times by now). We spent 6 hours there and by the 4th hour I was looking at the statues not for their artistic value, but to contemplate what their shatter pattern would look like if I pushed them over. Plus, the Mona Lisa wasn't that cool. There was my rant on the Louvre.
Now, a note on the Moulin Rouge. The Moulin Rouge is in a veritable red-light district of Paris. It is located at the end of a street lined with nothing but sex shops and neon lights, complete with copious amounts of nudity and disgustingly inappropriate catcalls from the hordes of men crowding the street. In other words, it was quite the ridiculous experience and a part of Europe I hadn't yet seen. Given our obvious disinterest in what the shops had to offer, we didn't stay long.
After almost missing our flight and our connecting flight (on which I got to have an extended conversation in Italian with the woman sitting next to me, who thought I was French!), we made it back to Rome, where everyone got dressed to the nines for a reception at the villa of the U.S. ambassador to the Holy See. This sounds a lot more impressive than it actually was, since we were invited because the ambassador's daughter is a Notre Dame student in my class. It was still a very classy evening and one of the coolest thing I will do. The villa was gorgeous and it was just a fancy evening in general.
That night I met up with Dana, Sarah B, and their friend Mei-Kay, who were on fall break from London. It was weird for the P.E. girls to be together in Rome, but totally awesome to get to see them. Earlier in the week, I got to see Tesia as well, so after hearing everyone's London stories, I'm super excited to go there.
Today, as I was walking to the Vatican post office, I saw a midget nun. It was excellent.
When I was sitting in St. Peter's Square the other day, studying for a quiz (just take a second to take in that sentence...I still can't get over that I live so close to St. Peter's Square), an Italian man carrying his motorino helmet stood in front of me, staring, until I would look up. He said, in Italian, "You have the most beautiful eyes." I responded, "I'm wearing sunglasses." The guy tried to explain himself by saying he was sure that I did have beautiful eyes if I would only remove my shades, but I just kept insisting that my eyes were nothing special. He sat down anyone and talked to me for a bit, then asked how old I was. When I said 20, he said, "Oh, I'm 40...well, you look busy. I'll leave you alone" then got up and left. I wish I knew how to say "creeper" in Italian.
On the JCU front... When I returned from Paris, I checked my email to find this lovely message:

For those of you who would like to get into the Halloween spirit the Housing Office would like to invite you to participate in our first ever electronic pumpkin carving contest.

Here’s how it works:

Click on this link: http://www.coasttocoastam.com/timages/page/pumpkin_sim.html

Create your pumpkin.

Open the Paint program on your computer.

Go back to your carved pumpkin.

Push the print screen button (Stamp/R Sist) on your computer.

Go back to Paint and paste (ctrl v).

Your carved pumpkin should be pasted into Paint.

Save the picture on your computer.

Either respond to this email or create a new email addressed to housing@johncabot.edu and attach your saved pumpkin (jack-o-lantern) picture. In the subject line of the email write your name and phone number (so we can contact you if you win).

This is JCU's sense of school activities. I'm starting to think JCU isn't even like high school. It's more like middle school. (Also, I'm glad they let everyone know how to use Paint and the Copy and Paste functions. Honestly....) If anyone wants to participate in the contest in my place, feel free.

Killing Abroad

JCU and its students continue to confound and amaze me. Why anyone would choose to attend this university for an entire 4 years, I will never understand, yet there are some who do.
For instance, Joe from the Ventotene post is a student from Portugal who attends JCU out of his own free will for the duration of his college education. He is in my international marketing class and is full of classy questions.
The other day in said class, we were discussing international law as part of an international marketing strategy. Joe eagerly raises his hand and asks a question having nothing to do with marketing, but I suppose it was related to international law. Question: "So, I am Portuguese. I live in Italy. What would happen if I kill someone in Brazil?" The professor answers with something about if he killed someone in Spain, he would be in trouble because its part of the EU, but Joe kept refuting that answer with, "But I killed the guy in Brazil!" Seeing as he had no answer and his students were starting to feel a little uncomfortable, he moved the class on.
Later during that same lecture, Joe brought forth another question along the same lines. "So, I'm Portuguese. What if I'm in Italy, driving a German car, and I run over a Roman? What would happen to me then? Who's laws do I fall under?" I'm not quite sure why he thought the outcome would change depending on the make of the car he was driving. The professor pretty much brushed this question off as well, but I think some further interrogation should be done of Joe. I will be careful never to cross him, at least not in Brazil or whilst he is driving a German car.

Feeding Frenzy

My apartment is absolutely freezing. The heat doesn't get turned on until November 15. I am painfully cold. Hopefully, writing about the weekend's events will take my mind off of it.
Wednesday, I went to Alexanderplatz, a really groovy jazz joint very close to the apartments. The woman singing that night was excellent and did a cover of Britney Spears's "Toxic". It sounded much better with a jazzy tone.
Thursday, I spent walking around the Trastevere and Vatican area by myself. It was nice to just chill out and take in the city. I walked past a guy on a pay phone and he stopped mid-sentence to shout a "Ciao bella" my way. Does that ever work? Does anyone actually stop and say, "Why, how nice that you called me beautiful simply because you noticed I am female! Please, continue with your flattering generalizations and then perhaps we shall go to the local discoteca tonight." No. Never.
Thursday night, a group of us went to Piazza Navona. We ended up in a bar that became infiltrated with lots of pasty British guys ranging from the ages of 26 to 56. One was sporting underwear on the outside of his pants and carrying around a wooden spoon. We decided he would be a fun guy to talk to and we did have an interesting conversation about his attire, which he explained by saying, "Isn't this what the Romans do?" Nope, not usually. Then he asked us if we were Canadian, so of course we said yes and he said, "Yeah, you don't seem good enough to be Americans." It was eventually (or right after this comment) revealed that we were American and this British fellow wanted to know where in America I was from. I don't know why I even bothered saying Ohio. Everyone just gives me a false nod of recognition whenever I say Ohio. The British guy was no different, except he went a little further in trying to figure out where it was. I pretty much told him it was next to New York City. Close enough. Later, we met this British guy's super creepy friend who talked constantly about how he just loooooved the American accent and any girl who had it could just melt his heart by talking. I tried to stay silent when around him, but I still got an awkward, uncomfortable, and uninvited lingering cheek kiss from him when he left. He was gross.
After about 2 hours of sleep that night, I got up and went to Perugia with Caitlin for the EuroChocolate festival. Perugia is a town in Umbria near Assisi and it has a university. It's a lot less touristy than other towns and very pretty. Chocolate Festival was very cool and consisted of a collection of tents throughout the town, all with various kinds of chocolate in any shape or flavor you could want. There was violet chocolate, pure dark chocolate, cinnamon chocolate, chocolate covered fruit, chocolate cell phones, chocolate batteries, hot chocolate, chocolate with absinthe, chocolate and hot peppers, chocolate pasta, etc. We were welcomed into Perugia by a very attractive man dressed in a giant blue mouse costume (we later found out he was supposed to be Ratattouie). He walked up right in front of Caitlin and I, waved and said "Buon giorno!" and walked off. We were so stunned by his hot factor that for a moment, we forgot he was dressed as a cartoon mouse and gave a jaunty buon giorno right back at him. Later that day, we found him again and without saying a word, handed a camera to someone and got on either side of him and snapped a photo. We left with a "Grazie" and a "Ciao, topo!" (Bye, mouse!). After eating oodles of chocolate and drinking some super thick hot chocolate, we decided we needed an actual meal and had the best pizza yet at a little pizzeria that had the feeling/smell of a church basement. Then we went searching for Ruff Stuff, a gangsta ghetto fabulous store we heard about from MTV's Italy guide book. After searching for quite some time, we finally found it, and it was closed. Bummer. But we did find a great vintage store. Good thing Perugia is small because we went to it three times before it was opened. The store itself was very small, but it had a lot of treasures like Prada shoes and real snake skin clutches. I tried on a pair of knee high boots, but as with most Italian boots, it didn't zip up all the way because of the giant calves I have developed from all the walking I do here. I have no idea why all Italians do not have massive legs. When the woman who owned the store asked if the boots fit I said, "No, ho le gambe come un uomo." (I have legs like a man). She replied with a "Si" and a nod in agreement. Stupid man legs. The rest of Perugia was very cool and scenic and the chocolate was terrific.
Instead of collapsing into bed as soon as I got back that night, a group of us went to Trastevere to see Quentin Terantino. That's right, the director. We had all gotten an email inviting us to a club opening which was also a party for Quentin Terantino. The invite boasted a hip hop and R&B party and an actual appearance by Quentin himself. Most were skeptical, but I put my trust in JCU (bad decision right there) and went to the party, camera in hand, ready to photograph QT and ask him for a job. We got to the club around 11:30. It didn't open until 12:30 and when we asked the bouncer about Quentin he acted like he couldn't understand us and just kept repeating the opening time of the club. Finally, the club opened and a flood of American students dressed as Reservoir Dogs eagerly awaiting Terantino's arrival lined up. We handed over our special invitations and asked a different bouncer about QT. She laughed at us and said, "This is Italy!" which I guess meant that in Italy, it's ok to lie to people about celebrity appearances to get them to go to a club. We left after about 10 minutes of being there. Next week, the club is having a party for Spike Lee. I will not be going.
On the way to that club we did see an interesting sight--an Italian bachelorette party. A gaggle of inebriated Italian women was gathered outside the Vatican walls (great place for debauchery) and one had a veil on and sign around her neck asking for help. Her task was to stop cars in the street and wash their windows. She was all about this and was running out into the street to wash windows. Her sign said she was getting married the very next day. I hope she didn't get hit by a car the night before her wedding.
Today was a fantastic day. It included all my favorite elements of Italy--great food, great friends, great views, and Maria Younes. Plus it was free! We went on a Notre Dame sponsored trip to Farfa. I'm still not entirely sure where Farfa is, but I think it's near Florence, so it must be in Tuscany. The town of Farfa is very small and quiet and has tons of cats and dogs just running around. There was one little dog that followed us around everywhere. I named him Quentin Terantino in honor of the previous night. No one called him this. When we got to Farfa, we walked around the town for a bit, sampled some honey from a roadside stand, and pet some stray cats. Then we hiked up a hill to an olive grove. The hike was nothing because, after Assisi, every incline will seem like cake. Along the hike, we stopped and looked at the vegetation, which was very Mediterranean and beachy. There was a strong wind blowing that made a great sound through all the trees and bushes. We got to the top of the hill where our tour guide's mother and 3-year old son, Lorenzo, met us. The view was great and you could see lots of olive groves. If you looked very hard, you could see St. Peter's on the horizon. After telling us a few facts about olives, we were sent out to take a quiz, the questions of which were tied to trees throughout the olive grove. The top three scorers each got a bottle of the grove's homemade olive oil, which we sample later and was very good. I was a top scorer, but I attribute that to my lucky guessing skills rather than to my knowledge of olives. The best part of the day was lunch. We sat on a patio on top of the hill, overlooking the olive grove and all of Farfa. We had meat, cheese, bread, olive oil, salad, olives, lentil soup, mapo (cross between grapefruits and clementines), and "chocolate surprise". It was one of the best meals ever, and not just because of the great food, but also because of the great view and tranquility of the place. After we went down the hill, we took a tour of the Benedictine abbey. It was a lovely day.
There were a few crazy Maria Younes stories. I don't know what it is with her, but she is just weird. When we were at the honey stand, someone mentioned that they put honey in their tea. Maria responded with, "I put honey in my tea, too! See, we are alike! We are very similar!" At the end of the trip when we got off the bus and headed back to the apartments, Maria shouted "YOUR WELCOME" after us, insinuating we were rude children who never said thank you. We did say thank you several times throughout the trip. We just didn't say it all in unison at the end of the trip. There are other Maria stories, but they are all too topical and I don't really feel like telling them (you probably don't feel like reading them).
Now I'm probably going to go run my face under some boiling water or walk on some hot coals or something to warm up. I did not pack well for this...

Dinner Theater Train Terrorizes Stow

I had some time to kill today in between classes and decided to check out the Stow Sentry--Stow, Ohio's weekly publication. Apparently, I'm not missing much:

*I have placed in bold the best tidbits from this article

Stow -- City Council is asking county court officials to back them up in their attempt to prohibit a dinner theater train from coming through Stow.

During its Oct. 11 meeting, Council approved legislation to request a "judgment [from the Summit County Court of Common Pleas] stating whether the [city's] zoning code would prohibit this type of entertainment."

According to Council member Ron Alexander, "[Stow]'s zoning ordinances do not permit restaurants or entertainment businesses to operate in areas that are zoned residential or industrial. The proposed dinner train would operate in both residential- and industrial-zoned areas of Stow."

In February, Gabriel Hall, president and CEO of U.S. Rail Corp., said a dinner theater train will travel the rails from Cuyahoga Falls through Silver Lake and Stow to Hudson. He estimated it would not be operational until June or July 2008 at the earliest.

U.S. Rail representatives did not return calls by press time.

Alexander said if the court says the zoning laws prohibit the dinner train, he believes the city would file an injunction so the train cannot run through the city.

The line will begin near downtown Cuyahoga Falls, and travel across Front Street, Hudson Drive, along the border of Silver Lake, and into Stow on Hudson Drive and up to Barlow Road in Hudson.

The train is expected to have entertainment such as musical revues, stand-up comedy or murder/mystery/romance productions, with food and beverage service.

Silver Lake Village took legal action in 2002 to prevent the train running through the village. However, after four years of proceedings and rulings, the Ohio Supreme Court ruled last year to allow Metro Regional Transit Authority to lease a section of railroad track to the Cuyahoga Falls and Hudson Railway Co., a subsidiary of U.S. Rail Corp., for operation of a dinner theater train.

Alexander said although city officials had concerns about the dinner train in 2001, officials decided not to join in with Silver Lake's lawsuit.

"We decided to wait to see if Silver Lake could win the lawsuit, and not use our taxpayers' money," he said. "We believe our zoning ordinances prohibit the dinner train."

Alexander added he expects the court process to stop the dinner train to take between 18 months and three years.

"I'm very glad Stow's doing this," said Silver Lake Mayor Bernie Hovey. "I wish they would've jumped in and helped us years ago ... I still wish them the best of luck now."

Hovey added the village is not planning to take any more legal action to stop the dinner train.

"We've done all we can do," said Hovey.

Man, I hope this problem gets solved soon! I don't want to come back to a town overrun with locomotive feasts and entertainment! What's next, a casino on a boat on Silver Lake???

Then I found this article under the most frequently viewed articles. I think it was supposed to give me a warm fuzzy feeling about the citizens of Stow. Instead, it made me laugh and let me know that there is a nearby pet cemetery.


On May 8th, after an especially tough day, I had occassion to stop in Stow to shop around 5pm. I had left the Boston Hills Pet Cemetery with my beloved dogs' ashes, and battled my way through the Route 8 traffic to go to the Graham Rd. Pet Supplies Plus store to get pet food. With a lot on my mind, I had dropped my wallet after getting out of my Jeep....spilling a lot of the contents on the ground. I thought I had gotten it all and went into the store to shop. With my bags in tow, I got in my truck and drove away....except, I hadn't picked up my drivers license, bank card or the cash with them!! Off I went to finish the rest of my long day. Before going home, I wanted to get gasoline, and guess what? I discovered my cash, bank card AND license were missing!! I tried to think where I could have lost these things....trying to re-trace my steps! Upset and tired, I head back to my home in Firestone Park. When I came in the house, I heard a phone message from a Officer Bastock, of the Stow Police, telling me an anonymous good Samaritan had found my ID, bank card and cash, and would I please call him! This was at 11pm and he gone home, too. But, the next morning, I called the Records Dept. of the Police station and was told where I could retrieve this items by a very nice young lady. She said the officer and the staff were EXTREMLY surprised that my ID, bank card WITH cash were returned! I wasn't, though....I have never had a bad experience in Stow! It is a nice place to visit, shop and I am sure it is a wonderful place to live, since there are Good Samaritans there, too! Thank you, kind person!

Please note that "occassion" and "EXTREMLY" are spelled wrong.

I heart St. Ow

Fashion Whore

One thing that is no different no matter where I am is midterms. They are always bad. Admittedly, they are not as stressful or involved as Notre Dame midterms, but considering I am in a very low-key, low-work, low-scholarly-motivational environment, midterms seem just as hard. Fortunately, I'm mostly through them and only have one more left tomorrow.
This past weekend was a weekend dedicated to fashion. This kind of happened accidentally, as we only actually had one fashion-related thing planned. On Friday, Kristina, Jackie, Caitlin, and I went to the Valentino exhibit in the Ara Pacis museum. I had been there before, but it was for my Ancient Rome and its Monuments class, so when I stopped to gawk at the dresses, the professor screeched in her faux-British accent (she's from Baltimore or something and studied in England) "Stop looking at the dresses! We are here for class! I used to like pretty dresses, too, but now is not the time for such frivolity!" So I begrudgingly turned my attention to (fell asleep while standing in front of) the Ara Pacis and some other old rocks with historical significance blahblahblah. Actually getting to go through and enjoy the Valentino exhibit was definitely worth the trip back to the museum. It was a very creepy display. Strange music was playing and all the manikins were shiny and bald and had really long necks. They were either hung on a wall or posed with their arms extended, seemingly beckoning you into their world of high fashion. It got a little less creepy when we got to the display of celebrity gowns. It was really cool to see dresses I remembered Reese Witherspoon, Julia Roberts, and Jennifer Lopez wearing. All the dresses were gorgeous and it was definitely a nice break from looking at ancient Roman architecture or Renaissance religious paintings.
After the Valentino exhibit, Caitlin and I bought chocolate and coffee and hopped on the metro to go to Cinnecitta. We really knew nothing about this metro stop, except that it was near the end of the line and the name sounded cool. Cinnecitta is like the Hollywood of Italy and I think it produced Gangs of New York and The Passion. The production studio was directly outside the metro stop, but when we tried to go in, a security guard stopped us to inform us that it was not for the public, but for work only. I thought about saying that I was there to see Spike Lee, as he had recently been spotted at Campo dei Fiori, but I decided to just pursue an internship there so I could go there every day without lying. The are around Cinnecitta looked very un-Roman, as there was no sign of the ancient to be seen. It was very industrial and open, so with nothing else to do, we just walked down the street. And then we found it. A mall! In Rome! Hooray! I don't mean to seem material, but it was really cool to see a giant 100 store mall in the middle of Italy when stores are usually no bigger than dorm rooms. Also, I just like to see Italy's take on American things (America's take on Italian things--like cappuccino--just don't compare). The mall had a department store (!!!) and a bunch of other chains, much like our own malls. But unlike our malls, people brought their dogs in with them (they were not blind) and instead of cell phone kiosks, there were bars advertising happy hour. Shopping and just walking around the mall was excellent and afterwards, we went to Piazza di Spagna and had a delicious dinner. We took a bus to the Vatican and as usual got kind of lost in a place we'd never known existed, but eventually made it home. Online, we found another mall on the eastern side of Rome that has 210 stores (!!!!!), so the plan is to make it there this weekend.
Saturday was the one day of actual planned fashion. Caitlin and I had signed up for a JCU sponsored trip to the fashion outlet stores in Tuscany. Since this was a JCU trip, there was a long walk early in the morning, an even longer bus ride, and really obnoxious people. The bus was packed, so on the way to the outlets, Caitlin and I could only get seats diagonal from each other. This put us sitting next to people as shallow as puddles and dumb as mud. I wasn't exactly expecting a group of MENSA potentials to be going on this trip, but I was expecting college students who acted like college students. Instead, there were what appeared to be high schoolers imitating what they've seen on Laguna Beach, though they were indeed college students, mostly from American University. Here are some tidbits from their conversations that made the bus trip nearly unbearable. (my comments in parentheses)
On Sororities:
Shallow Sally: I really didn't want to join my sorority, but they wanted me, so I guess I just kind of had to be nice (isn't that generous of you to offer yourself when they want you sooo badly)

Dumb Debbie: I joined a sorority without a house so I wouldn't have to live with all of them. Wouldn't that be awful, having to live with your sorority sisters? (why join a sorority if you hate the people in it???)

Shallow Sally: At your school, which sorority has the fat chicks?

Dumb Debbie: My big sister (assigned in the sorority--lucky her) sucked. She totally ignored me because her brother died! (how selfish of her!)

On everything else:
Sally: Counting is hard! (for some...)

Debbie: She looks like she has down syndrome. It's probably because she's Swedish. (so what's your excuse for acting retarded?)

Sally: I always have really awesome birthday parties. My 10th birthday was on a boat, so it was really mature for 10 year olds. The next year, we took a limo to Dave and Busters. (Dave and Busters?! High roller!)

Sally: I get 7 days of my birthday and 7 days of Christmas!

Debbie: (referring to the houses near the outlets) I doubt the people who live here can actually shop at these outlets (they were nice houses...)

Once the bus stopped, I ran off. These girls were too much for me. Our first stop was a store that had just Prada and Miu Miu. Caitlin and I soon realized that 50-70% off of designer fashion still puts the price at 300-1200 euro, so we got bored pretty quickly and decided to walk around a bit. Past the parking lot of the outlet, all we found was a closed sandwich shop and some guy peeing on the side of the road, so we just sat outside. The next stop was much better because it had a lot of stores. They were still really pricey, but it was fun to look at all this stuff. The restaurant at these outlets was so trendy and had fashion TV playing and was the only place I've seen in Italy that offers salads as a meal and not a side dish (though the salad looked like something I would make because it was just tuna thrown on top of lettuce with some corn, a tasty and unusual combination).
The bus ride back was quieter since people were sleeping. It got noisy again when people started pointing out the window and yelling "Prostitutes!". All along the road back into Rome were hookers. First, transvestites, then actual women. Most of them were not wearing pants, only thongs, or some version of that. They were all just out in the open, standing on the side of the road. A few cars did pull over as we were stuck in traffic. They did look better than the hookers we saw in Rome near the Vatican earlier that weekend.

Thus ends the weekend of fashion...and of annoying people...and hookers.......

Venice is Sinking, So Get There Quickly

Oscar commented on the last post that I must have done nothing in Venice. This is simply not true. I just wasn't ready yet to write about how incredibly awesome Venice is!
I left for Venice by plane on Friday morning and returned by train on Sunday. I flew with Ryan Air (really cheap European airline) so I was expecting the worst, but it actually wasn't that bad. The flight attendants were wearing tacky royal blue suits and the safety instructions were attached to the seat in front of you. Since Ryan Air is an Irish airline, all instructions were given in English first and then occasionally in Italian, so in case of emergency, all Italians die. Before boarding the plane, all the passengers lined up at the terminal. People pushed their way to the front of the line, as there were no assigned seats, so the first people in line get first pick. However, as soon as the doors opened, we were all shuffled into a bus, so those who were first in line in the airport were shoved into the back of the bus and were the last to get on the plane.
After arriving in Venice (the flight only took about an hour), we had the arduous task of finding our hostel. We started walking from a train station and ended up in the Italian suburbs. It was neat to see this kind of area in Italy, but after walking up and down the same street for a couple hours, it was no longer that charming. Bicycle seemed to be the main mode of transportation in the area and 70 seemed to be the average age. We didn't quite figure out right away that there was a sidewalk for bikes and a sidewalk for walkers, so cyclists rang bells at us and scowled at us as they passed. After asking a bunch of people for directions, we finally found our budget hotel, which was pretty nice, except for the 5 pound key we had to carry around (seriously, the key was attached to a big hunk of metal). The nicest part about the hotel was its proximity to the bus stop that took us into the main part of Venice.
All the sketchy traveling and getting lost was worth it once we got into Venice, because the city is gorgeous. I expected it to be smelly or for the water to be murky, but it was neither. Unlike Florence, it was not overcrowded and unlike Rome, it was very quiet. It's amazing how quiet a city can be without the noise of auto traffic. What's even more amazing is that there's an entire city built on water and the main transportation is boats and water taxis. We spent most of Friday wandering around the city, just taking it in. It's very calm, yet not boring, and there is plenty to do, but it's not overwhelming.
The bad things about Venice are that it is pretty expensive and pigeons attack. In St. Mark's Square, we went to a caffe to get coffee, but quickly left when we saw that espresso was 6 euros (it's usually 70 cents). Pigeons don't care about how expensive things are around St. Mark's because this is their main hang out. I had a handful of granola and was about to throw it to the pigeons when one jumped up on my hand to steal it from me. These pigeons are so fearless that you can walk up to them and pick them up (some kids were doing this and then throwing the pigeons). Once you feed the pigeons, they won't leave you alone for a while and will follow you, land on you, scratch you, etc. Some crazy tourists put granola on themselves and just stand there while the birds collect on them. This was funny to watch, but not to participate in. Pigeons are gross.
Though Venice does have designer stores and some random other shops (including a male cross-dresser store), most of the shops sell Venetian glass or masks. It gets pretty frustrating shopping for these things because it's hard to commit to buying something when you're not sure if the store next door has something prettier or better priced. I ended up with oodles of glass, my favorite purchase being a set of wine glasses I bought on Murano (the island of Venice where most of the glass is made). I carried my box of wine glasses around all of Saturday and when I got on the bus that night to go back to the hotel, I realized I didn't have them with me. It was 10:30 and the buses and water taxis stop running at midnight, so time was limited to look for them. Emma was so nice and ran off the bus with me to look for the glasses. We hopped on a water taxi and went to the last place we were in an attempt to retrace my steps. Amazingly, they were sitting in the bakery where I had left them, totally unharmed. What had happened was I bought a cookie, forgot all about the glasses, and left happy with the cookie. I am an idiot. We fortunately made it back in time to catch all the taxis and buses required to get to the hotel. Later, in the train station on Sunday, I bought an apple and left the wine glasses at the counter. Fortunately, Emma knew by this point that food distracts me from paying attention to anything, so she picked up the wine glasses and handed them to me just as I realized I had forgotten them again. I should never be trusted with valuable things, or if I am, I should be starved.
Other things I did in Venice included walking through St. Mark's Cathedral (another big church, woohoo), the Doge Palace (weapons rooms+prison+Bridge of Sighs+biggest oil painting in the world=loads of fun), going to Murano where they make a lot of glass (we saw a glass blowing demonstration. The dude has a cigarette in one hand and a red hot ball of glass on a stick in the other. He was bonkers!), eating an awesome fast-food joint called "Jumanji" that had bites taken out of the pizza (the pizza man claimed the oven had eaten it), drinking belinis (while doing this, a mouse ran into the bar we were at and hid behind the Coke machine. When someone tried to tell the bar owners, they didn't seem to care), and taking a gondola ride. The gondola ride was done last minute right before going to the train station, and it was totally worth it. I can see how it would be very romantic, but considering I was in a boat with 3 other girls and it was 10 in the morning, it was more just pleasant than romantic. The gondolier and his apprentice were both wearing the traditional outfits of striped shirts and hats. The apprentice was not the sharpest gondolier in the canal, because every time we asked him a question, he got it wrong, and the older gondolier would sigh with exasperation and say, "No, Michael, that's wrong, again! The canal is 3 meters deep, not 1." It was pretty easy to forgive Michael for his blunders, as he was very adorable.
Venice is a lovely city and 2 and half days there was the perfect amount of time. If I had stayed any longer, I would have no money and oodles of glass.

Life Skills

Things I am learning to do in Rome

• Travel Plan: I could give up on my education right now and become a travel planner for Ryan Air and Hostel World.
• Dodge Traffic: This is a necessary skill for living/staying alive in Rome
• Ignore People: When Italians shout at you or when people try to sell you roses or toy cars, ignoring them is the best way out.
• Get More Wear out of Clothing: There are 3 washing machines for the entire apartment complex. If it doesn't have stains, a little Febreze is all you need.
• Push Your Way Through Tourists: I feel like I've lived here long enough to scoff at tourists and roll my eyes at the giant crowd waiting outside the Vatican Museum as I shove past them every morning on my way to school. Silly tourists, don't they know the line is much shorter in the afternoon? What tourists!
• Use Public Transportation: The metro is pretty easy once you get the hang of it and the buses are bad either. It's watching the people make out on public transit that's difficult. That and not falling.
  
• Cook: Some of you may be shocked by this. Out of necessity, I am indeed delving into my inner kitchen skills I know my mom must have passed on to me somehow. However, the goal of my meals at this point is not so much gourmet taste as is edible/not poisonous.
• *see recipe for my favorite and most frequent dish below
• Grocery shop: This goes along with cooking. I never realized how difficult grocery shopping was until I tried to do it every week and each week end up with a random assortment of food that doesn't go well together. I usually buy staples such as eggs, cheese, bread, and lunch meat then from there I just grab whatever looks good at the moment like raisins or kinder kandy or pineapple juice.
• Use the American stereotype to my advantage: If I don't pay the correct rate for something or otherwise get an advantage I should not, I just play dumb and say "Non lo so!" Maybe not the most respectable thing, but it occasionally works.
  
• Make Renaissance Art Fun: Madonna and Child is only interesting and pretty to look at for the first 140 versions, so after that, attention should be paid to how weird the baby Jesus looks and why there are floating baby heads around Mary. This or similar strategies may save you from losing all appreciation for the works of Botticelli and Michaelangelo.
  

In addition to all of this, I suppose I am learning cultural knowledge, some stuff in class, and general life lessons. The cooking thing will probably come in most handy.

*Recipe for Everything in the Kitchen Sink Pasta

1. Take necessary dishes (pot, spoon) out of sink. Washing optional.
2. Boil the pasta and accidentally add too much salt. Correct this accident by purposely adding even more salt, thus making this not an accident.
3. When pasta is perfectly al dente, throw frozen veggies into the boiling pot and overcook all contents of pot until they are mooshy enough to gum.
4. Drain pasta in the sink (clearing out of other dishes in sink is optional). Allow veggies to fall through colander. Save what you can.
5. To add protein to the dish, put an entire hard boiled egg on top of the pasta. Substitutes for egg include mixed nuts or lunch meat.
6. Instead of making the difficult decision of which sauce to use on the pasta, choose all them. Mix olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and tomato sauce to the concoction.
7. Sprinkle on some oregano and black pepper
8. When you realize you have made too much (too much, in fact, for all the food to fit into one dish) offer some to your roommates, who will politely decline.
9. If there is any salt left, add some more.
10. Enjoy the 15 taste sensation!

I'm No Mountain Goat

First of all, you may have noticed that I recently added a hit counter to my blog (hit counter=counts the number of times someone visits my blog) and that the number of hits is rather low (I'm sure this is due to the fact that the counter is so new, and not because people don't LOVE my blog). Anyway, if you could just hit refresh on your internet's browser a few times before reading the rest of this, thus adding numbers to the counter, that would be great. Thanks!

Last weekend, I was in Assisi for a Notre Dame sponsored/subsidized retreat. I hadn't been on a retreat since high school and, to be honest, thought they were a bunch of hooey. I still think this, however, I did enjoy myself. The retreat wasn't intense at all. We visited churches and prayed and such, but we had a lot of free time and didn't play any stupid trust games (however, we did play mafia a lot). We stayed in a convent and were served delicious food the whole weekend. We visited some key spots in the life of St. Francis and went through the basilicas dedicated to him and to St. Claire, which were both lovely. Assisi itself was gorgeous with lots of old buildings, olive groves, and hills. The town also has fantastic gift shops, which for some reason, all sell medieval weapons such as maces, crossbows, and swords. The weapons present a nice juxtaposition with the many religious items found in the same gift shops.
I was feeling very relaxed after Friday and Saturday, because we just sort of walked around Assisi and hung out with each other. However, this state of relaxation was destroyed on Sunday, when we went for a "4 kilometer walk" that turned into a freakin' long 3 hour hike up a mountain. What made me most upset was that we were not warned about this at all, so I did not have the appropriate shoes or pants or anything. The hike went along a path that basically went straight up the mountain, so there was a constant super steep incline, and the path was covered in slippery rocks. To top it off, the retreat leaders didn't know exactly where we were going, and the entire group got split up due to different walking speeds, so everyone was getting lost. The goal of this hike was to get to a hermitage that St. Francis supposedly prayed at every day or something (though I find this very hard to believe, considering it would take a gladiator to climb that mountain daily). We finally see the hermitage, but we can't find that path that leads directly to it, and we end up jumping over a wall and sliding down a hill to get to it. We were able to spend about 20 minutes there before having to turn around and head back. I was so stressed out and exhausted after this that I couldn't really enjoy the rest of the retreat, which was basically over after the hike anyway.
So in conclusion, Assisi was very pretty, I still don't like retreats, and you should warn me before taking me hiking.