oh my heavens, it has been an absolutely absurd past 72 hours.
i am in rome, back safe and sound, a little bit wiser, a tiny bit bummed, but still feeling quite enthralled. and i will be so so sad to leave this city.
i believe i left you, dear reader, with a snippet of a post about having ventured to the sea, to the coast of the mediterranean, to a small town called Sperlonga. this trip was illadvised by a boy i met that night at the cookbook bar. he said the distance was too great to bother, and that i should just go to orvieto if i wanted the ocean, as it is only a short subway ride away. i decided thursday morning (afternoon, rather) that i didnt really care about distance, as i didnt have anything better to do, and a trip through the country might be nice.
i successfully located a bus, boarded it, rode to the train station, purchased a ticket to Napoli/Sperlonga from a little automated ticket machine (some hobo had to help me with this...i kept pressing the wrong buttons and then tried to put my cash in the credit card slot...the hobo literally sighed, a deep, bored sigh, took my 50euro bill, put it into the cash slot, retrieved my tickets from a secret door, one that i would have never found, handed me my ticket, change, receipt, pointed out the way to my track, and walked away. i ran after him and gave him 2euro), and got on my train, in a seat next to some guy who immediately took his shoes off, airing his dirty socks too all in the compartment.
the trip to sperlonga wasnt too bad, but i did have to disembark at some strange, sad town called Fondi, where i was too busy trying to work the book-vending-machine to catch the connecting bus to sperlonga, and had to sit an hour and a half in a tiny train station cafe waiting for the next ride.
sperlonga ended up being exquisite, very greecan (all white stucco and wild hills), and full of rich people on their summer vaca. i strolled around town, dipped my toes in the ocean, ate gelato, watched the sunset, and dined on mussels at the sperlonga yacht club. the train ride home took a good while, and when i got back i went right to sleep...
friday was absolutely ridiculous. the bulk of the day was spent at the little cafe in campo de fiori, where the jude law lookalike works. since i had nothing to do, and the nicest thing to do in rome anyway is sit and eat cheese and people watch, i positioned myself at a little table and proceeded to while away my hours reading, relaxing , and drinking coffee. this, of course, had nothing to do with the boy. just a coincidence.
the jude law look alike and i chatted intermittently between coffees, and eventually i asked him his name, in italian. he said, "tony, but i am not italian, so english is fine". turns out hes Greek. and when he asked me my name, and he looked at me with his chocolate milk eyes, and he said, "ah, prego, el-i-a-noor-a", in his soft sweet voice, i thought i was going to cast. a. kitten.
seriously, my breath stopped in my chest, and, it could have been the 4 coffees, but my hands were all shaky and my face got bright red, and when he saw this his face got bright red, and then we both laughed.
i left the cafe finally, and went back to the apartment, and in a fit of insane passion, decided that i absolutely had to ask this boy out because, who cares, i am only in rome 3 more days and ive never seen anyone prettier and no one has ever said my name like that, so what have i got to lose?
i threw on some chanel and grabbed my purse and ran out the door. as soon as the door slammed...i realized that i had left the keys.
immediate panic stations, as the apartment doors are severe, heavy medeival wood and the keys are monstrous skeleton keys and antonio had said "do not leave the keys because there is no other way in" and no landlord to call and no ladder with which to climb the building up to the 3rd floor. luckily, i had my phone, and my money, so after a few histerical phone calls i found myself in a taxi, on my way back to the train station, on my way to Siena, where i was to meet antonio to get the other set of keys.
4 hours later, after a beautiful but exhausting ride through tuscany, i disembarked at the Siena train station,where i was met by antonio in his little Punto stick shift. naturally i had managed to lock myself out at a time when it was too late to both go and return from siena, so antonio said it was fine, that i could stay the night at his parents, so we just made an evening of it. there was a concert going on in the big piazza and we met up with some of his friends (one of them was v cute and nice and went to oxford!) and watched the show. it was some strange singer/songwriter who fancied himself an italian bob dylan (he had the cowboy hat and blazer circa 1994 and a waxy voice and everything...as a purist, i was a bit affronted) and some of his songs were backed by an orchestra and he wore costumes like beaks and head scarves and things. the italians all thought this was the MOST BIZARRE and CRAZY thing that had ever happened, and they kept asking me if i was alright, and if i was shocked or something. i asked them if theyd ever heard of a band called GWAR...
the night in siena ended well...i had some good gelato...call my mom if you want more details...
anyway, i left siena early the next morning, as i had important business to take care of in the city (chocolate milk eyes...). this time however, i took a bus most of the way. the ride was MAGNIFICENT!!! we rode up and over beautiful tuscan hills, across bridges, through tiny towns, over peaks and around cliffs...the landscape was a wash of gold and brown and green, nothing for miles but wheat and castle steeples. we went through montepulciano, which is where they make my moms and my favorite wine! it was amazing and peaceful and the bus was airconditioned...
so, i finally arrived back in rome. i rushed home, took a shower, threw on a pretty dress, and was out the door in 20 minutes flat...i had to see about that boy, 24 hours later...
at the cafe i was all sweaty and out of breath and so nervous that i couldnt stop shaking, but he was there, and he was sweet. i finally was about to talk to him, when this crazy person who had been sitting across from me came over and asked to sit down. at first i told him no, actually several times, but he persisted and i was finally like, ok, fine, i dont care. turns out he was some insane old french economist who spoke 15 languages and had homes in greece, italy, france, and albania. he told me that he wanted to talk to me because i resembled, "ear, nose, and bone", his "first true love", gabriella. the guy went on and on forever and ever talking about philosophy and culture and outlining the differences between the french and like, everyone else. he took dead aim at the italians, and told me that they are not to be trusted, that they are never what they seem...that the italians were amazing to "have a ball" with, but that nothing serious ever touched them. he said the greeks were philosophical and made great lovers, but that they were also obsessed with the "mama", like italians. and the french were apparently perfect, especially since in relationships the man is dominant and the woman knows her place, and they have an incredible amount of sauces and the best wine, blahblahblah. was all a bunch of insanity, but i filtered it and will keep my eyes open. hehe, at one point though, he spoke greek to tony (who, by the way, i had been mouthing "help!" to, while he just laughed and shook his head and mouthed back "he's drunk!!"...also kept bringing me camparis and plates of cheese...love him...) trying to be all impressive, and tony responded in greek really quickly and the guy faltered and tony was like, "oh, im sorry, maybe you know english better?".
the guy wouldnt leave my side, and eventually tony's shift ended and he left, giving me a wan smile and wave and nodding apologetically at the french guy. i was so so sad. finally i couldnt take it anymore, and told the french guy that i had to go, and packed up my stuff and trudged home, scuffing my shoes and pouting, thinking that i would never, ever see tony again.
but, when i reached piazza farnese, i looked across the way, and there he was, my greek with eyes like chocolate milk, sitting on the edge of the fountain, just sitting there...he waved and i walked right up to him. "you escaped!", he said, and i giggled. we talked for a moment, and eventually he walked me to my door. he was very impressed with where i was staying, as apparently this area is very expensive, and i explained that i spent all summer slaving away at a terribly demanding job in order to afford this place. we started to falter at the goodbye...he kept looking at my door and stuttering and said finally, "which one is yours", nodding to the doorbells. i giggled and said, "oh this one", pointing to antonios bell. "de orange one, ok...maybe...i ring it...about 8:30...maybe", he said. i burst out laughing and said "ok, well maybe ill be waiting with bated breath"...then he kissed my cheeks and squeezed my hands...and walked away...
i did not, as i would have expected, completely melt down and run upstairs and chug campari from the bottle and begin applying mascara as a histerical displacement activity. i did, however, make myelf a salad, listen to broken social scene, and expect the worst...
to be continued...
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
ill relate tales of my journey tomorrow...
ugh, had a v exhausting day venturing to sperlonga and back. wanted to go back to the cookbook bar, but am just too tired from my long day (on a train) at the beach.
new photos, www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2419582&l=7040b&id=4913936, and also put new ones in the album 'roma'.
feeling wonderful, but sleepy. anyway, is the weekend tomorrow so plenty of time to go out then. am old lady of the hills, currently
love, ele
p.s. this is who i am dreaming of:
who remembers when i had a cat named bug? what a cutie!
just woke up from an extremely peaceful nights sleep. i have moved from sleeping in the living room, on the big bed, to sleeping in the computer room, on a very small fold down futon chair. despite the fact that i cant roll over without hitting the floor, its actually extremely comfortable. and, it seems, not full of bugs...
i have been waking up the past several days with weird bug bites on my legs. at first i thought BED BUGS, and was in a state of mild histeria all yesterday evening after doing a big google search on the subject. bed bugs are nasty, mean little things, and im not one for infestations of any sort, regardless. my mom acted like i was an idiot, though, crushing my concerns with a sound "there are no bed bugs. go wash your clothes." was not so sure. then i talked to katie baggett, who said that when she went to paris last month she had the same type of bites, little misquito-bite-sized welts, on her legs, but, as is the case here, there was no evidence of bugs in their hotel room. i know that there is no evidence of bugs in my apartment, because in the midst of my panic attack i spent a good 45min crawling all over the floor on my hands and knees with a pocket flashlight and a pair of tweezers looking for clues. nothing. apartment is clean...but thats what they want you to think.
anyway, after changing my sheets and moving to a new matress, i have woken up this morning with no new nibbles. so i think the consensus is that europe has some sort of microbug that kt and i are allergic to and ill just have to get use to it. in the meantime i am dressing my wounds in an italian benedryl cream and keeping my eyes peeled...
yesterday, in general, was a day for playing household chore and sleep catch up, nursing wounds, and reflecting on wed nights events. on wed evening i dragged myself out of the apartment around 11pm, begrudgingly, as i really wanted to stay in and read my book. i walked down to the bridge to Trastevere, and was greeted with a most beautiful view of the river: boats and barges, twinkling lights, tents popped up alongside with vendors selling food and trinkets, mimes and musicians. there were people everywhere, sitting on the walls of the bridge, hanging from lampposts, lounging in the street. everyone had beers and speared beef on k-bobs, like a big outdoor cookout. when i reached trastevere, the quiet little neighborhood that i had thought was so demure by day had transformed itself into a giant nightclub, with people and music and lights and sounds coming from everywhere, each little alley presenting another pocket of excitement. i literally thought to myself, what have i been doing all these nights, sitting in campo di fiori with the tourists?? now i know where the italians go at night. have deduced that campo di fiori, though wildly fun and entertaining at night, is like the Boars Head/ /Allgood side of town in athens, full of jovial but none-the-less idiotic frat boys and the girls who want their money; and though these bars and this area can be fun sometimes, if you're in the mood for that sort of thing, its not really someplace that will expand your consciousness in any meaningful way. trastevere, though...its the little kings/ 40watt side of town. there was laughter and people in costumes and litghts dripping from the sky, people handing bottles of beer out their windows to passing friends and strangers, pounding beats and street food. i was in heaven.
i wandered about the streets for a good while, pushing through the crowds and trying to get my bearings and find a place to have a pint. i came to this bar, this little tiny one roomed bar, that looked like pure magic. the twinkly lights flashing from the drink menu cast a gold and pink hue over the room, illuminating the photographs of audrey hepburn and bob dylan along the walls. on either side of the room there were bookshelves, and upon further inspection i found that these bookshelves held COOK BOOKS, beautiful beautiful cookbooks, all in italian. the adorable guy at the counter explained that this was a bar/library, and the overall theme for the literature was food. i was shocked. combine the fact that this bar has twinkly lights, bob dylan, cook books, and offers jack daniels for 3euro a glass, it is by far the most perfect place on the planet. i sat sipping my bourbon and reading through gorgeous italian food magazines for a long while, watching the people come in and out and feeling quite at peace with the world. after a while, a ragtag group of boys came in, all shouting greetings to Alessio (the guy at the counter, the owner), who lined them up a row of shots along the bar. it was one of those moments when you are conscious of the fact that you have about 2 seconds to make a decision: the decision this time, for me, was, should i go ask to take a shot with them? i suppose the beauty of the evening had gotten to me (i.e. jack daniels), so i decided yes, i should go take a shot with them, and bounded prettily up to the bar. alessio, who is such an angel, introduced me to his friends saying "this is eleanor, shes in italy to work on farms, in udine. shes in rome for a couple weeks beforehand. and even though she wont be home in november, she is still going to vote in the election, for barck obama" (i had explained absentee ballots to him earlier). the other boys cheered, and shook my hands and kissed my cheeks and introduced themselves. they were all from rome, born and raised (except for one, my favorite of all of them, estevan, who was adopted from chile), and they had been friends since childhood. after such an introduction, the night took on a life of its own. the boys were all wonderful and sweet and such dorks and i loved them all, and i think they liked me alot, though i dont know that italian girls are quite as...loud as i am. we talked politics and foreign policy (drunken rants), they taught me how to say things in italian, and i recall trying to convince one of them that aerosmith was better then the rolling stones, chocking it up to a language barrier when he didnt "get my point". after a few hours i decided to call it a night, as it was very late, so i kissed them all on the cheek and started to make my way home. john called right after i left, thank heavens, and metaphysically walked me home, back through the streets and over the bridge. at one point i was walking down an alley and a large group of guys dressed in togas came up and surrounded me (jovially and respectfully) and tried to get me to go back to trastevere with them. they took my cell phone and one of them started talking to john while the others tried to pick me up and carry me off. managed, finally, to lose them, and made my way home, safe and sound (john stayed on the phone with me till i got completely inside my apartment with the door bolted, such a sweetie).
oh dear, its 11am. if im going to catch that jude law boy at the coffee shop i had better get going. not sure what i will do today...something grand, i suppose.
i have been waking up the past several days with weird bug bites on my legs. at first i thought BED BUGS, and was in a state of mild histeria all yesterday evening after doing a big google search on the subject. bed bugs are nasty, mean little things, and im not one for infestations of any sort, regardless. my mom acted like i was an idiot, though, crushing my concerns with a sound "there are no bed bugs. go wash your clothes." was not so sure. then i talked to katie baggett, who said that when she went to paris last month she had the same type of bites, little misquito-bite-sized welts, on her legs, but, as is the case here, there was no evidence of bugs in their hotel room. i know that there is no evidence of bugs in my apartment, because in the midst of my panic attack i spent a good 45min crawling all over the floor on my hands and knees with a pocket flashlight and a pair of tweezers looking for clues. nothing. apartment is clean...but thats what they want you to think.
anyway, after changing my sheets and moving to a new matress, i have woken up this morning with no new nibbles. so i think the consensus is that europe has some sort of microbug that kt and i are allergic to and ill just have to get use to it. in the meantime i am dressing my wounds in an italian benedryl cream and keeping my eyes peeled...
yesterday, in general, was a day for playing household chore and sleep catch up, nursing wounds, and reflecting on wed nights events. on wed evening i dragged myself out of the apartment around 11pm, begrudgingly, as i really wanted to stay in and read my book. i walked down to the bridge to Trastevere, and was greeted with a most beautiful view of the river: boats and barges, twinkling lights, tents popped up alongside with vendors selling food and trinkets, mimes and musicians. there were people everywhere, sitting on the walls of the bridge, hanging from lampposts, lounging in the street. everyone had beers and speared beef on k-bobs, like a big outdoor cookout. when i reached trastevere, the quiet little neighborhood that i had thought was so demure by day had transformed itself into a giant nightclub, with people and music and lights and sounds coming from everywhere, each little alley presenting another pocket of excitement. i literally thought to myself, what have i been doing all these nights, sitting in campo di fiori with the tourists?? now i know where the italians go at night. have deduced that campo di fiori, though wildly fun and entertaining at night, is like the Boars Head/ /Allgood side of town in athens, full of jovial but none-the-less idiotic frat boys and the girls who want their money; and though these bars and this area can be fun sometimes, if you're in the mood for that sort of thing, its not really someplace that will expand your consciousness in any meaningful way. trastevere, though...its the little kings/ 40watt side of town. there was laughter and people in costumes and litghts dripping from the sky, people handing bottles of beer out their windows to passing friends and strangers, pounding beats and street food. i was in heaven.
i wandered about the streets for a good while, pushing through the crowds and trying to get my bearings and find a place to have a pint. i came to this bar, this little tiny one roomed bar, that looked like pure magic. the twinkly lights flashing from the drink menu cast a gold and pink hue over the room, illuminating the photographs of audrey hepburn and bob dylan along the walls. on either side of the room there were bookshelves, and upon further inspection i found that these bookshelves held COOK BOOKS, beautiful beautiful cookbooks, all in italian. the adorable guy at the counter explained that this was a bar/library, and the overall theme for the literature was food. i was shocked. combine the fact that this bar has twinkly lights, bob dylan, cook books, and offers jack daniels for 3euro a glass, it is by far the most perfect place on the planet. i sat sipping my bourbon and reading through gorgeous italian food magazines for a long while, watching the people come in and out and feeling quite at peace with the world. after a while, a ragtag group of boys came in, all shouting greetings to Alessio (the guy at the counter, the owner), who lined them up a row of shots along the bar. it was one of those moments when you are conscious of the fact that you have about 2 seconds to make a decision: the decision this time, for me, was, should i go ask to take a shot with them? i suppose the beauty of the evening had gotten to me (i.e. jack daniels), so i decided yes, i should go take a shot with them, and bounded prettily up to the bar. alessio, who is such an angel, introduced me to his friends saying "this is eleanor, shes in italy to work on farms, in udine. shes in rome for a couple weeks beforehand. and even though she wont be home in november, she is still going to vote in the election, for barck obama" (i had explained absentee ballots to him earlier). the other boys cheered, and shook my hands and kissed my cheeks and introduced themselves. they were all from rome, born and raised (except for one, my favorite of all of them, estevan, who was adopted from chile), and they had been friends since childhood. after such an introduction, the night took on a life of its own. the boys were all wonderful and sweet and such dorks and i loved them all, and i think they liked me alot, though i dont know that italian girls are quite as...loud as i am. we talked politics and foreign policy (drunken rants), they taught me how to say things in italian, and i recall trying to convince one of them that aerosmith was better then the rolling stones, chocking it up to a language barrier when he didnt "get my point". after a few hours i decided to call it a night, as it was very late, so i kissed them all on the cheek and started to make my way home. john called right after i left, thank heavens, and metaphysically walked me home, back through the streets and over the bridge. at one point i was walking down an alley and a large group of guys dressed in togas came up and surrounded me (jovially and respectfully) and tried to get me to go back to trastevere with them. they took my cell phone and one of them started talking to john while the others tried to pick me up and carry me off. managed, finally, to lose them, and made my way home, safe and sound (john stayed on the phone with me till i got completely inside my apartment with the door bolted, such a sweetie).
oh dear, its 11am. if im going to catch that jude law boy at the coffee shop i had better get going. not sure what i will do today...something grand, i suppose.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
tuesday!
oh, hurrah, i got a phone. if anyone wants to call me my number is: 011-39-331-8969651. call me any time, day or night; it doesnt cost me a dime, only you.
have found a new object for my affections, a sweet little jude law look-alike who works at a cafe in campo de' fiori (*note: i have seen campo de'fiori spelled a variety of ways, and i really am note sure which is correct, maybe they all are, just circumstancial, i have no idea. anyway, variety is the spice of life). he is ridiculously good looking and quiet and has a sister who lives in chicago, which he told me in pretty much perfect english. upon meeting him i had a momentary vision of being 13, hiding behind a potted plant with lauren fierman giggling at my side, spending hours stalking the boys we were so terribly afraid to talk to. am not 13 anymore, but am no less afraid. also, too big to hide behind pots. so i had to be mature and leave the cafe after 3 cappucinnos instead of kidnapping him like i wanted to. at one point, however, i was biting my nails and out of the corner of my eye i saw him look over at me. i tried to move my hand away from my mouth quickly, but a long strand of drool came with it. dont know if he saw or not, but considering my luck he totally did. hes so pretty, i bet his mouth doesnt even have saliva, i bet his mouth is full of honey and limoncello. anyway,was embarrasing, but i am resilient and will not be discouraged.
another day of exploration, another day of wonder. went to the spanish steps and browsed in all of the stores where i cant afford anything and listened to corey's ipod and ate fresh pineapple from a fruit stand. i meant to go to the beach today, but until i talked to my momma a few minutes ago i wasnt sure how the bus system worked, so ill probobly go tomorrow.
im on a serious budget until friday, at which point ill move from code red back into orange. in the meantime, i have been eating all of my meals at home (budget mirage as costs a fortune to buy all groceries necessary for a gormet meal, but at least they last longer) and not buying pretty clothes or books in italian, and have instead been walking, reading, sipping 1.60 cappucinnos and 2euro wines at luminous sidewalk cafes, and smoking silkcuts to curb my appetite. just kidding.
god, its another beautiful day here. evening is setting in which means that i can go out for the next half of my day (have to take a break in the middle to come home and recooperate and blowdry my poor bangs). i am getting extremely comfortable here, and love the neighborhood that i am in. every day there is a market in the piazza where they sell all manner of fruits and vegetables and meats and oils. i see some of the same people walking the streets that i walk so often, and even nodded to a sweet old lady who lives in the apt across from me, as though we were really neighbors. the people at the breakfast cafes recognize me, and there is a kitten that hangs out on a stone wall all the time, who i pet in passing. ive named her tigger.
solitude has both its blessings and its pitfalls. at times i wish that i had a friend here, to go out with and talk to. but i also know that being entirely alone, in a vast city where no one knows me, where i can be whoever and do whatever i want, is an opportuity that i may never entirely get again. so i am enjoying myself immensly, and savoring each morning (and especially each evening, when it is cooler), and learning to be on my own in what i know for sure is the best way possible.
Monday, August 25, 2008
pictures
here's the link to one of my photo albums:
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2416978&l=5d5f0&id=4913936
here's a link to the other, in progress:
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2418192&l=514a0&id=4913936
love, ele
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2416978&l=5d5f0&id=4913936
here's a link to the other, in progress:
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2418192&l=514a0&id=4913936
love, ele
i like evening the best...buona sera!
oh my heavens it is SO HOT. i made the mistake of walking over to the colluseum earlier, around 2pm, in an effort to knock that bit of historical sightseeing off my checklist. was just the same as always, though: trecherously hot, smoggy, trafficy, desolate yet packed with tourists, under construction, and loud. my obama shirt was sticking to my skin and gladiators kept trying to get me to take pictures with them (like in 'girls next door'!!!!), and it was all together brutal. came back to the apartment to collect myself and shower and plan a day trip for tomorrow because i now know why the romans choose this month of all the months to go on vacation.
as for my day trip, i am considering either Frascati, a little mountain town with a reputation for fantastic food and wine, or Sperlonga, which is suppose to have incredible beaches and some architectural wonders. will probobly do both this week, but which one first? i wish mom was here to guide me; she is an amazing trip planner. was just looking at a map of italy and was totally embarrased by how little i knew of the geography of this wonderful place. when my family would come, we would go all over!! all those little towns and cities were not neatly lined up in a row like connect-the-dots, but scattered throughout the country. somehow we managed to hit so many beautiful places with minimal travel time...anyway, wish to be expert traveler like my mother, frugal and conscious yet adventurous.
am playing a game today called Rome-on-20-Euros-a-Day. so far, i am doing great. but it is only 6pm. dinner and drinks and another go at gelato, and certainly another coffee, are still in the mix for later this evening. am going to be the size of a blimp by the time this is over. however, since apartment is like suana maybe i am sweating all the extra calories off while i sleep...wouldnt that be great?
Sunday, August 24, 2008
...now you're all gone got your make-up on and you're not coming back...
good heavens, i have been spending money like i own this town and a large stock in AT&T. now that i have finally gotten up the courage to eat in proper restaurants, its all that i want to do. last night i went about town, Holga in hand (*note: a Holga is a german-type extremely manual camera that takes "sunlight" pictures, as i am fond of calling them, and looks like a prop from some Princess-of-Hanoi-Weds-G.I.-Joe one-act). the fun thing about this camera is that, without a flash, you have to hold down the shutter button for several minutes in order for it to collect enough light for an evening photograph. basically, you have to line up your shot (e.g. the pantheon and surrounding foot traffic), press down the button, and then stand perfectly still and count to 180. people walk all over the place, in and out of the shot, and some of them stare at you because you are standing stark still with a camera poised 2 inches from your face and your right eye's squinted up to keep your angle. in the end though, it is almost like a photograph of a short film, capturing 2 minutes of life in front of the pantheon on a saturday night all on one little square of film. i took several pictures with the Holga, and i hope they come out as beautiful as the feeling of taking them was.
aside from taking pictures, i spent a couple hours last night trying to decide where to eat, getting lost, and thinking, "oh! i know where i am" and then realizing that no, i dont actually. eventually my slingbacks rubbed such blisters on my poor, war-torn feet that i took them off, and pranced barefoot over the cobblestones. this, plus my pretty yellow dress, plus my fanatical picture taking got quite a few glances, but i felt mysterious and important and untouchable in my pursuits. the restuarant i finally decided upon for dinner may not have been the best choice, as they charged 3 euro for the bread basket and 5 euro for a bottle of pelligrino, but the food was delicious and the wait staff friendly and the fine-dining atmosphere went along with my bohemian-girl-with-gobs-of-money persona that i like to front so much. i had buccatini with basil and octopus and teeny-tiny lambchops over a bed of broccolini, and a glass of white wine from Friuli, the region that i will be making my farming debut in (feel like its best to taste the local flavors ahead of time, so wine really is like school assignment). i wanted to stay out through the night, but i was so exhausted from lack of (decent, regular) sleep that i came home and slept from 11pm till 11am, which was amazing.
spent today looking for the trevi fountain, which for some reason i refused to look up on a map or ask directions to. went into Prada on the way and smelled the most lovely orange blossom perfume. it came in a tiny, tiny bottle, obviously v condensed and special, and when i went to smell it i accidentally (on purpose) let the top of the bottle touch my nose, so i smelled orange blossoms when i breathed all day long, which was nice. the trevi fountain was incredible as always. rome, itself, is incredible. i love how even the most ginormous, breathtakingly important sights are totally disguised and secret, absolutely impossible to see over the winding, towering streets, and you can spend forever searching and searching, and then, suddenly, youll come around the corner...and there it is. the pantheon. the trevi fountain. the spanish steps. so solid and commanding but yet completely set within its own private space, like you really do have to be there to be there. it moves for no one. no matter how many times i come upon the pantheon, whether intentionally or accidentally, it always takes my breath away.
i ate lunch at another absurdly expensive restaurant, but i was totally lured into it, and no girl in the world could have refused. walking through the streets away from the trevi fountain i started to think how hungry i was. i had tried to save money by making my own lunch at home, but even at the time i knew it wasnt going to work- my bow-tie pasta and arugula with pan-tossed eggplant that i love so much at home was just not going to hold me when i got out into the streets and smelled what rome had to offer. i really did try though. anyway, i was wandering around, probobly with a worried look on my face, debating whether to stop and find some food, when this positively beautiful man said, "ciao, pretty. are you looking for somewhere to eat?" i nodded yes, immediately noticing the way his curls were just long enough on the left side to wrap under his ear. he said "oh! good! well come sit here, and i will serve you". could not argue. i ordered prosciutto and melon, veal piccata with wild mushrooms, and a 1/2 carafe of another white wine from Friuli (also school related), and sat at that sweet table in the sunshine for probobly 2 hours, reading my book and taking my time and chatting with Luca, who is in school in rome for jewelry design. i told him about moms jewelry company, il ninolo bello (sp?), and he seemed very impressed. but then he said, "and you?" to which i replied, "oh, ha, no, i only wear jewelry". later realized he was asking about what i do in school, but was too late. anyway, lunch was fantastic and men kept coming up and asking me to drop what i was doing and run away with them, or have a cigarette, or let them sit down, but i was enthralled with my singularity (i.e. luca) and told them politely to move along. anyway, cost an arm and a leg, but now i have a friend.
the sun is setting which makes the stucco walls of the opposite building glow, and theres even a little breeze. will probobly just eat pizza tonight, as have spent weeks budget on food in the past two days. but, as jane lurie and i always remind ourselves when faced with buyer-second-thoughts, it is not going to matter the money you spent but the memories it afforded you, so it is all worth it.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
aha!
have figured out how to upload pictures. they're on my facebook page for now, till i can set up some sort of photobucket (?), so if anyone wants to see them email me and ill give you my password and stuff. i have nothing to hide.
now that i know i can get them onto the computer i can take lots more, so from now on will be top photographer documenting roman days and nights.
i left the apartment finally this morning after it was apparent that i wouldnt go back to sleep. i wandered down to a little cafe that over looks campo dei fiori. it was full of locals out for their early saturday morning cappucinos, reading the papers and chatting loudly, ignoring the man soulfully playing the violin for tips.
usually im quick to grab my coffee go, as is customary on early mornings when running through hot corner on the way to school. but i had nothing to do,and was nice and cool, and everyone seemed so at ease that i sat down and read my book and watched people pass by and lustfully eyed the beautiful italian man in front of me (white linen shirt with the sleeves rolledup...marlboro 27s and black ray bans...reading the economist...). was such a beautiful morning.
going to take a shower, as am a complete mess due to heat in the apartment...makes me drip with sweat all night...will wander over to trastevere for lunch and then explore a little. am seriously not going to let myself take a nap today,as i think the only way to get on a proper schedule is to exhaust myself until late at night and wake up at a (more) normal hour e.g. 10am, instead of sleeping till midnight and then being awak till the early morning.
t.t.f.n.!
now that i know i can get them onto the computer i can take lots more, so from now on will be top photographer documenting roman days and nights.
i left the apartment finally this morning after it was apparent that i wouldnt go back to sleep. i wandered down to a little cafe that over looks campo dei fiori. it was full of locals out for their early saturday morning cappucinos, reading the papers and chatting loudly, ignoring the man soulfully playing the violin for tips.
usually im quick to grab my coffee go, as is customary on early mornings when running through hot corner on the way to school. but i had nothing to do,and was nice and cool, and everyone seemed so at ease that i sat down and read my book and watched people pass by and lustfully eyed the beautiful italian man in front of me (white linen shirt with the sleeves rolledup...marlboro 27s and black ray bans...reading the economist...). was such a beautiful morning.
going to take a shower, as am a complete mess due to heat in the apartment...makes me drip with sweat all night...will wander over to trastevere for lunch and then explore a little. am seriously not going to let myself take a nap today,as i think the only way to get on a proper schedule is to exhaust myself until late at night and wake up at a (more) normal hour e.g. 10am, instead of sleeping till midnight and then being awak till the early morning.
t.t.f.n.!
must...buy...fan...
is ridiculous. couldnt fall asleep until 4:30, then woke up at 6:30 when the merciless wind made its grand entrance through the french windows and blew a large poster off the wall. after that...no more wind. and no more sleep.
tried in vain to go back to sleep, but is pointless. will just have to get up and procede with my day.
catacombs later? is such a beutiful day here, as it has been all week.
when something interesting happens i will blog more...
tried in vain to go back to sleep, but is pointless. will just have to get up and procede with my day.
catacombs later? is such a beutiful day here, as it has been all week.
when something interesting happens i will blog more...
Friday, August 22, 2008
am functional, well-rounded,composed woman of confidence
today was wonderful, and i am extremely sore and my feet are covered in soot in a most compelling way. i spent yesterday being sick and headachy and sweaty, and tried to catch up on my sleep and fend off homesickness. i kept remembering being 6 or so when mom and dad went to australia and left me with aunt sally. i was so terribly distraught that i got a fever and wouldnt play with alice ann or richard and slept with my head near the phone for days and threw up alot. at least thats how i remember it. same thing happened when i went to china, except it was john i was missing so bad. yesterday i was just all over scared, but i knew that when i woke up this morning it would have all passed and i could be happy and functional again. and, huzzah! was right.
i went and had a cappucinno at that little cafe across from hotel smeraldo where my family stayed years ago, on our first trip here. i remember mimi sitting with me at that cafe, so i like to go back. feels familiar and safe. the lady there is a bit crabby and doesnt speak english and really does not like people to look at her croissants and not actually buy one. i like her, though, so i think i will keep going back and being sweet and friendly and eventually she will crack.
i walked forever today. found a little used book store that sells books on meditation, religion, philosophy, and astrology, all in italian of course. i bought this adorable flip book with sketches of how to meditate and clear your mind, a book on pagan ceremonies, and margaret mead's 'sex and temperament', which is a book i study in anthropology. the sweet old man and i had quite a time working out how much i owed him. i felt myself get really nervous and forget all my numbers and start to stare blankly. but he was so gentle that i took a deep breath, counted in my head, got to 'ventisei', and gave him perfect change. was very motivating because realized that i dont not know the language, i just dont trust myself to use it. everyone is very helpful, though, and in the end it all gets figured out. was so moved by my achievement (counting to 26) that i made a go at eating in a proper restaurant. i couldnt read the menu so i did the brave but dumb thing, which is just point to something and hope for the best. and guess what they brought me?? FRIED CHEESE!!! seriously. just a hunk of cheese that had been put into a skillet. was a miracle. couldnt eat more then 5 bites as was so baffled as to why in the world this was even real and my stomach started to turn when i actually considered what i was eating. but it wasnt bad, and it certainly was a good start.
wound up at the villa bourghese, where i wandered about looking at happy couples and business men taking naps in the grass. spent the afternoon in the national museum of modern art, which was lovely.
decided that it was high time that i went to the grocery store, so that i can have proper food at the house to eat instead of waiting till i am nearly faint from starvation and then eating a can of tuna at 4 in the morning. so now have responsible, adult kitchen full of vegetables and olives and cute 3 pack of peroni (especially responsible to have 3pack of beer as obviously not enough to get drunk on, but for having merely as staple of functional household). also, am not going to spend 30 euro on cured ham anymore and not even have decent bread. is overindulgent.
have decided to go to trastevere this evening for dinner, as both aunt alice and antonio recommended places in that area. havent been over to that neighborhood ever, so im excited, and antonio says lots of "young people" mill around so maybe will find someone to talk to.
im going to try and post pictures, if i can get my camera to link up to antonios computer. ill let yall know...
i went and had a cappucinno at that little cafe across from hotel smeraldo where my family stayed years ago, on our first trip here. i remember mimi sitting with me at that cafe, so i like to go back. feels familiar and safe. the lady there is a bit crabby and doesnt speak english and really does not like people to look at her croissants and not actually buy one. i like her, though, so i think i will keep going back and being sweet and friendly and eventually she will crack.
i walked forever today. found a little used book store that sells books on meditation, religion, philosophy, and astrology, all in italian of course. i bought this adorable flip book with sketches of how to meditate and clear your mind, a book on pagan ceremonies, and margaret mead's 'sex and temperament', which is a book i study in anthropology. the sweet old man and i had quite a time working out how much i owed him. i felt myself get really nervous and forget all my numbers and start to stare blankly. but he was so gentle that i took a deep breath, counted in my head, got to 'ventisei', and gave him perfect change. was very motivating because realized that i dont not know the language, i just dont trust myself to use it. everyone is very helpful, though, and in the end it all gets figured out. was so moved by my achievement (counting to 26) that i made a go at eating in a proper restaurant. i couldnt read the menu so i did the brave but dumb thing, which is just point to something and hope for the best. and guess what they brought me?? FRIED CHEESE!!! seriously. just a hunk of cheese that had been put into a skillet. was a miracle. couldnt eat more then 5 bites as was so baffled as to why in the world this was even real and my stomach started to turn when i actually considered what i was eating. but it wasnt bad, and it certainly was a good start.
wound up at the villa bourghese, where i wandered about looking at happy couples and business men taking naps in the grass. spent the afternoon in the national museum of modern art, which was lovely.
decided that it was high time that i went to the grocery store, so that i can have proper food at the house to eat instead of waiting till i am nearly faint from starvation and then eating a can of tuna at 4 in the morning. so now have responsible, adult kitchen full of vegetables and olives and cute 3 pack of peroni (especially responsible to have 3pack of beer as obviously not enough to get drunk on, but for having merely as staple of functional household). also, am not going to spend 30 euro on cured ham anymore and not even have decent bread. is overindulgent.
have decided to go to trastevere this evening for dinner, as both aunt alice and antonio recommended places in that area. havent been over to that neighborhood ever, so im excited, and antonio says lots of "young people" mill around so maybe will find someone to talk to.
im going to try and post pictures, if i can get my camera to link up to antonios computer. ill let yall know...
Thursday, August 21, 2008
oh good lord
have just remembered agreeing to go to the beach with some guy this afternoon. no idea who he was. think will just take little nap.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
channeling cameron...not quite as bold as holly golightly
im sitting here listening to the noise from campo di fiori trying to get up the nerve to go out and eat supper. i keep reminding myself of that scene in ferris beuller where cameron is sitting in his car saying "i'll go. i'll go. i'll go. i'll go....shit!", except the one who keeps calling me making me feel guilty is myself. all a very tangled web, etc. ooh, maybe antonio has 'twist and shout' on itunes. if he does, ill take it as a sign and get my butt out of here. am dressed and everything...
i walked for so long today, all over rome, in and out, to the spanish steps and the trevi fountain and the villa bourgheisse (*note: im going to apologize now; i am a horrible speller. i realize that i have been spelling siena wrong, as well as even simple english words, so just bear with me, and correct me if you want, it will do nothing but help). it was incredibly hot and my shirt was sticking to me and men in business suits kept driving by on mopeds and i felt like flinging myself in their path shouting "take me with you, i need wind!"
ok. no 'twist and shout', but there are 4 different versions of 'my girl'. poor antonio. he broke up with his beautiful girlfriend of 2 years like, 2 weeks ago, and now he says that hes thinking of selling this beautiful apartment because he sees her "in everything, even the marble flooring". love a man who is sweet enough to have 4 versions of 'my girl', even if it is a bit sad-sack of him.
anyway, will go out.
wish me luck
e
i walked for so long today, all over rome, in and out, to the spanish steps and the trevi fountain and the villa bourgheisse (*note: im going to apologize now; i am a horrible speller. i realize that i have been spelling siena wrong, as well as even simple english words, so just bear with me, and correct me if you want, it will do nothing but help). it was incredibly hot and my shirt was sticking to me and men in business suits kept driving by on mopeds and i felt like flinging myself in their path shouting "take me with you, i need wind!"
ok. no 'twist and shout', but there are 4 different versions of 'my girl'. poor antonio. he broke up with his beautiful girlfriend of 2 years like, 2 weeks ago, and now he says that hes thinking of selling this beautiful apartment because he sees her "in everything, even the marble flooring". love a man who is sweet enough to have 4 versions of 'my girl', even if it is a bit sad-sack of him.
anyway, will go out.
wish me luck
e
aching feet
i did it! i talked to an italian person! in italian! was piece of cake.
i spent the morning wandering around looking for st.peters. somehow i walked right past it, which is strange considering that it is huge. i listened to corey's ipod and dodged traffic and it all felt very 'lost in translation'-esque. after about 2 hours of walking up and down the river and across various bridges, i stopped at a little drink stand and said, "scuse, por favor, dov'e la piazza san pietro?" to which the woman replied something that i could not comprehed, but she pointed back the way i had come and mimed walking over bridges, held up two fingers, and pointed behind her. i took this to mean, turn around,walk back two bridges, and cross the river. and low and behold, there is was. the line to get in was absurd, however, so i did not go in, but merely stared and thought, and then decided that i was hungry.
i think i might end up getting v skinny on this trip, seeing as how i am too afraid to go eat at a proper restaurant, and instead spend hours walking aimlessly from pizzeria to pizzeria trying to get up the courage to go in and eat by myself and then psyche myself out all over again. i finally just went into this cutesy little shop in campo di fiori and asked the butcher for some cheese and prosciutto, which i am now divouring as though i havent eaten in days (which i kind of haven't...). in the butchers shop i sort of just pointed and shuffled and said, "si" alot,and they ended up giving me the most succulent,delicious prosciutto that i have ever ever tasted. mario batali always talks about how properly cured italian ham has that fat on it that is like an absolute delicacy, like sugar and water. that is what this tastes like, and it melts in my mouth. the cheese is amazing too, and i also bought a gigantic bottle of campari for 14 euro (ahahahahahaha!!!) and a bushel of basil from the market. so now i am in my apartment making lunch and listening to Air on antonio's computer and considering my options for the remainder of the day. i really wish someone would ask me out on a date or something. would be nice to have some company.
i spent the morning wandering around looking for st.peters. somehow i walked right past it, which is strange considering that it is huge. i listened to corey's ipod and dodged traffic and it all felt very 'lost in translation'-esque. after about 2 hours of walking up and down the river and across various bridges, i stopped at a little drink stand and said, "scuse, por favor, dov'e la piazza san pietro?" to which the woman replied something that i could not comprehed, but she pointed back the way i had come and mimed walking over bridges, held up two fingers, and pointed behind her. i took this to mean, turn around,walk back two bridges, and cross the river. and low and behold, there is was. the line to get in was absurd, however, so i did not go in, but merely stared and thought, and then decided that i was hungry.
i think i might end up getting v skinny on this trip, seeing as how i am too afraid to go eat at a proper restaurant, and instead spend hours walking aimlessly from pizzeria to pizzeria trying to get up the courage to go in and eat by myself and then psyche myself out all over again. i finally just went into this cutesy little shop in campo di fiori and asked the butcher for some cheese and prosciutto, which i am now divouring as though i havent eaten in days (which i kind of haven't...). in the butchers shop i sort of just pointed and shuffled and said, "si" alot,and they ended up giving me the most succulent,delicious prosciutto that i have ever ever tasted. mario batali always talks about how properly cured italian ham has that fat on it that is like an absolute delicacy, like sugar and water. that is what this tastes like, and it melts in my mouth. the cheese is amazing too, and i also bought a gigantic bottle of campari for 14 euro (ahahahahahaha!!!) and a bushel of basil from the market. so now i am in my apartment making lunch and listening to Air on antonio's computer and considering my options for the remainder of the day. i really wish someone would ask me out on a date or something. would be nice to have some company.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
morning
is so so early, but i am wide awake. went to bed rather early, after wandering around the dark alleys of rome for an hour or so. managed to find the pantheon, and the apartment where my family stayed years ago. ended up eating a delicious pancetta and arugula panini for dinner, and layed in bed listening to the ruckus down in campo di fiori (is v v loud all night, but i dont mind).
so i think today i will run some errands e.g. find a phone card that works, then spend the day taking photographs and solving mysteries. am in the mood to go to st.peters, actually...a little prayer and reflection would do me good, plus i bet the river looks amazing right now in the rising sun.
maybe ill have photos to post later on.
e
so i think today i will run some errands e.g. find a phone card that works, then spend the day taking photographs and solving mysteries. am in the mood to go to st.peters, actually...a little prayer and reflection would do me good, plus i bet the river looks amazing right now in the rising sun.
maybe ill have photos to post later on.
e
fo' shizzle
i feel positively feral right now. when i look at myself in the mirror i have a hard time recognizing my face; my eyes have changed from hazel green to an opaque teal, silver, and lime. there's depth and light in there that i havent seen for a while, if ever, and its hard to focus on anything but the sun setting on the walls of the buildings across the street and the pigeons swooping through the evening sky.
antonio, who is now my hero whom i am convinced was granted to me by a much higher power, returned to the flat this evening, supposedly with the objective of getting his sunglasses. i was sleeping, a deep heavy sleep that made me feel guilty and weak, and i was both relieved and enraged when the doorbell rang and i heard his soft italian voice asking if i could please buzz him up. after scouring the apartment for a few minutes, antonio put his glasses in his front shirt pocket and said, "so, um, el'nor. you wanna take a vespa ride, or are you too scared?"
i balked at him and shouted, a bit too eagerly, "i'm not scared!", and scampered off to the bedroom to put on the proper vespa-around-rome attire: prada slingbacks, skinny jeans, a brand new beautiful navy silk shirt from calvin klein with a boat neck and buttons on the sleeves, and a splash of mascara and chanel. i feel that i have had that outfit picked out for this occasion my entire life.
as we took off down the alley i was clinging tightly around his torso, terrified that we would get slammed by a bus or that my shoes would fall off. but once we got going, i felt more and more secure, guided by a supremely competent roman driver, and i began to relax, lean back, and giggle uncontrollably. i felt like hillary duff in the lizzie mcguire movie, which unfortunately put that awful rendition of 'hey gumbaree' in my head, but i didnt really mind.
we sped through traffic masterfully, around tiny cars and old ladies and traffic circles, all the while antonio pointing out buildings, fountains,and piazzas, until we came to the crest of the hill, and the monstrous form of the colluseum loomed up. ive seen it before, but in the dimming light, at that speed, with nothing but rushng air between me and history, it was positively breathtaking. we circled around, through the forum, over the bridge to trastevere, and up another hill to st.peters, white and stark. a little ways down antonio pulled over, and we walked across some beautiful bridge which i cannot remember the name of and watched the river and walked around a huge building that use to be a mosoleum, then a fortress, and is now a museum to itself.
we rode again thorugh the city, and every corner we turned had some place that i recognized, or thought i did at least, and i would let out little yelps of joy at the memories that the sights afforded me. we pulled into a coffee shop, one that is suppose to have the best coffee in rome. the cute adrian brody look alike scowled playfully at me when i requested no zucchero (sugar) in my espresso, and antonio walked me around the corner to the pantheon. the piazza was packed as usual, and we stood and gawked at the marvelous structure, and discussed how rome made us feel small and insignificant yet part of the history of the world, a part of civilization and architecture and evolution that is unobtainable in anywhere but what used to be the center of the earth, and still is for some.
on our walk back to the vespa, i told antonio that my life goal had been obtained, a vespa ride around rome at sunset with a dark haired man, and he laughed and said that he was glad he could "present" me a dream come true. the church bells all over rome struck 8pm as we glided back to the flat, and the ringing of them sent vibrations through the alleyways, metallic clashes that echoed between each dong-dong-dong and illuminated the city in noise and time and place. i have never loved any place on earth more then rome, and the beautiful fresco of the virgin mary outside my window reminds me that, whoever it may be, God or the cosmos or myself, there is someone to thank for my being here, and i am eternally greatful for all of this.
i am back at the flat now. antonio has taken the train to sienna for two weeks and left me the apartment and his stereo system and a coffee pot and a gerneal idea of where i stand in this city. i am listening to Yo La Tengo 'the way we fall' and thinking about things, and people, and a person, and myself. i have 5euro on me, having gotten gipped at the currency counter and not having quite as much exchange as i thought i would. but i think that 5 will get me a slice of pizza margarita and a glass of wine when i go out for my walk in a bit.
feeling quite euphoric, and i wish you were here.
antonio, who is now my hero whom i am convinced was granted to me by a much higher power, returned to the flat this evening, supposedly with the objective of getting his sunglasses. i was sleeping, a deep heavy sleep that made me feel guilty and weak, and i was both relieved and enraged when the doorbell rang and i heard his soft italian voice asking if i could please buzz him up. after scouring the apartment for a few minutes, antonio put his glasses in his front shirt pocket and said, "so, um, el'nor. you wanna take a vespa ride, or are you too scared?"
i balked at him and shouted, a bit too eagerly, "i'm not scared!", and scampered off to the bedroom to put on the proper vespa-around-rome attire: prada slingbacks, skinny jeans, a brand new beautiful navy silk shirt from calvin klein with a boat neck and buttons on the sleeves, and a splash of mascara and chanel. i feel that i have had that outfit picked out for this occasion my entire life.
as we took off down the alley i was clinging tightly around his torso, terrified that we would get slammed by a bus or that my shoes would fall off. but once we got going, i felt more and more secure, guided by a supremely competent roman driver, and i began to relax, lean back, and giggle uncontrollably. i felt like hillary duff in the lizzie mcguire movie, which unfortunately put that awful rendition of 'hey gumbaree' in my head, but i didnt really mind.
we sped through traffic masterfully, around tiny cars and old ladies and traffic circles, all the while antonio pointing out buildings, fountains,and piazzas, until we came to the crest of the hill, and the monstrous form of the colluseum loomed up. ive seen it before, but in the dimming light, at that speed, with nothing but rushng air between me and history, it was positively breathtaking. we circled around, through the forum, over the bridge to trastevere, and up another hill to st.peters, white and stark. a little ways down antonio pulled over, and we walked across some beautiful bridge which i cannot remember the name of and watched the river and walked around a huge building that use to be a mosoleum, then a fortress, and is now a museum to itself.
we rode again thorugh the city, and every corner we turned had some place that i recognized, or thought i did at least, and i would let out little yelps of joy at the memories that the sights afforded me. we pulled into a coffee shop, one that is suppose to have the best coffee in rome. the cute adrian brody look alike scowled playfully at me when i requested no zucchero (sugar) in my espresso, and antonio walked me around the corner to the pantheon. the piazza was packed as usual, and we stood and gawked at the marvelous structure, and discussed how rome made us feel small and insignificant yet part of the history of the world, a part of civilization and architecture and evolution that is unobtainable in anywhere but what used to be the center of the earth, and still is for some.
on our walk back to the vespa, i told antonio that my life goal had been obtained, a vespa ride around rome at sunset with a dark haired man, and he laughed and said that he was glad he could "present" me a dream come true. the church bells all over rome struck 8pm as we glided back to the flat, and the ringing of them sent vibrations through the alleyways, metallic clashes that echoed between each dong-dong-dong and illuminated the city in noise and time and place. i have never loved any place on earth more then rome, and the beautiful fresco of the virgin mary outside my window reminds me that, whoever it may be, God or the cosmos or myself, there is someone to thank for my being here, and i am eternally greatful for all of this.
i am back at the flat now. antonio has taken the train to sienna for two weeks and left me the apartment and his stereo system and a coffee pot and a gerneal idea of where i stand in this city. i am listening to Yo La Tengo 'the way we fall' and thinking about things, and people, and a person, and myself. i have 5euro on me, having gotten gipped at the currency counter and not having quite as much exchange as i thought i would. but i think that 5 will get me a slice of pizza margarita and a glass of wine when i go out for my walk in a bit.
feeling quite euphoric, and i wish you were here.
roma, again
i was thinking today that in alot of ways, i still feel thirteen. my fears and expectations and jubilence is similar now as then, at least to my memory. i think im prettier now then i was then, and i think i have better taste in shoes, and id like to think that i have better taste in men as well. my concern was this: that the passion i felt for italian men when i was thirteen was inflamed by the fact that they paid attention to me, their prowess and debonair struts. i worried today, while sitting in the airport watching the various italian men waiting to fly home, that now that im older and a bit wiser i would find the italians smarmy, obnoxious, arrogant, and disrespectful, as my friend angela does. my fears have been abated, though. now that i am here, in antonio's apartment, looking out of his window onto the alley below, listening to nina simone and drinking fresh dripped espresso that he made me, i know that there still is a qualityto these men, to this country as a whole, that made me fall in love in the first place. ill just have to be choosey.
i flew first class to rome today, which put a cap on the attainment of my life's goal that i really wasnt expecting. 5 glasses of white wine, 2 crab cakes, and 1 v. soft blanket into the plane ride, i adjusted my seat to fit my spine, took some tylenol pms, and drifted off. when i awoke i could see out the window, down onto the coast line below. still so far off,but the sparkling water and red roofed casas were more then apparent, and i could finally breathe. i went to the bathroom, changed into my new calvin klein "welcome home to rome" outfit, scrubbed my face bright and clean, and slipped on my prada shoes.
the histeria i had always predicted would come when i found myself here, alone, didnt come. i had bridget jones to keep me calm, and a familiarity with the place that allowed me to feel my way through the train station, into a taxi, and out onto the streets.
i found a guy to rent an apartment from on craigslist, and im beginning to think that the whole thing was fated. his name is antonio, and hes some sort of Ph.d in economics guy who was raised in SIENNA, heaven on earth, who studied at U of Texas several years back. he told me in an email yesterday that he would be waiting for me, at 11am rome time, by the fountain in piazza farnese (this piazza backs up to campo di fiori, me and mimi's favorite). the whole idea of flying first class out to rome, to meet some mystery italian man who was waiting for me by a fountain to take me to my apartment was literally too amazing to comprehend. i managed to keep my cool, though i must have looked like a crazy person with a grin from ear to ear when we met. i feel like its ok, though, cause he kind of looked like a crazy person, too: wild black curls all over his face, thick, square rimmed glasses over his dark eyes, a bright orange shirt that i can only imagine was awarded to him at some sort of texas-hold-em-dollar-beer-extravaganza that he attended while in the US. he took my backpack from my shoulders first thing, shook my hand, and with a grin as lopsided as his hair walked me down a small alley to his door. the door is thick, but small, heavy wood, and we need a gigantic skeleton key to open it. apparently the building use to be some sort of tower that led to a bell up top. when the door's opened, you have to walk around and around up steep, medeival stone stairs that wind and twist. his apartment is about 6 turns up, as far as i can tell (hard to say, i get dizzy), and through another door that looks like it was made hundreds of years ago. the apartment is small, but incredibly cozy, with exposed beams and a stone floor, and several windows that look out onto all sides and different alley ways. ella fitzgerald way playing when we walked in, and it smelled like cinnamon and hemp. it's decorated to perfection, all wood furniture and beautiful artwork, lanterns and comfortable pillows. the views are spectacular, beyond belief: grey clay rooftops and time-slanted windows, cobblestones, and a mosaic of the virgin mary. antonio wasnt quite ready to leave, since my flight got in about an hour earlier then we planned, and so i read and unpacked while he tidied up and showered, and we had a cup of coffee and talked about what it meant to be a southerner and the temptations and economics (i didnt have much to say on that subject). when i unpacked my suit case a waterfall of confetti stars left over from the party went splashing onto the floor. i started to apologize, but antonio waved his hand and said, "it's ok, we were always encompassed by stars". i cocked my head and looked at him, thinking, jesus, is he getting cheeky already? but he laughed and pointed to the ceiling, where i saw a galazy of glow in the dark stars stuck to the wooden beams. the place feels like home already. later he took me on a walk around the neighborhood, to show me the grocery store, dry cleaners, farmacia, telephone shop etc. we stopped and he bought me a slice of pizza and a peroni, and he said that if he comes back to town before i leave he'll take me to sienna for a day trip. i giggled and told him that my mom would be so jealous. we've concluded that the reason that he's 34 but looks 26 is because of sienna, because of how soft and easy life is there. he said he's aged considerably since moving to rome, which is something to consider. i still want this place to be my home, though. ill just have to toughen up some.
so now antonio has gone, and i have the apartment to myself. i have my dear friend's ipod hooked into antonios speakers, and im listening to rilo kiley and rooting around the apartment, being nosey. i just feel more and more enchanted with every passing second.
the sky is bright blue, and its hot hot hot.
i flew first class to rome today, which put a cap on the attainment of my life's goal that i really wasnt expecting. 5 glasses of white wine, 2 crab cakes, and 1 v. soft blanket into the plane ride, i adjusted my seat to fit my spine, took some tylenol pms, and drifted off. when i awoke i could see out the window, down onto the coast line below. still so far off,but the sparkling water and red roofed casas were more then apparent, and i could finally breathe. i went to the bathroom, changed into my new calvin klein "welcome home to rome" outfit, scrubbed my face bright and clean, and slipped on my prada shoes.
the histeria i had always predicted would come when i found myself here, alone, didnt come. i had bridget jones to keep me calm, and a familiarity with the place that allowed me to feel my way through the train station, into a taxi, and out onto the streets.
i found a guy to rent an apartment from on craigslist, and im beginning to think that the whole thing was fated. his name is antonio, and hes some sort of Ph.d in economics guy who was raised in SIENNA, heaven on earth, who studied at U of Texas several years back. he told me in an email yesterday that he would be waiting for me, at 11am rome time, by the fountain in piazza farnese (this piazza backs up to campo di fiori, me and mimi's favorite). the whole idea of flying first class out to rome, to meet some mystery italian man who was waiting for me by a fountain to take me to my apartment was literally too amazing to comprehend. i managed to keep my cool, though i must have looked like a crazy person with a grin from ear to ear when we met. i feel like its ok, though, cause he kind of looked like a crazy person, too: wild black curls all over his face, thick, square rimmed glasses over his dark eyes, a bright orange shirt that i can only imagine was awarded to him at some sort of texas-hold-em-dollar-beer-extravaganza that he attended while in the US. he took my backpack from my shoulders first thing, shook my hand, and with a grin as lopsided as his hair walked me down a small alley to his door. the door is thick, but small, heavy wood, and we need a gigantic skeleton key to open it. apparently the building use to be some sort of tower that led to a bell up top. when the door's opened, you have to walk around and around up steep, medeival stone stairs that wind and twist. his apartment is about 6 turns up, as far as i can tell (hard to say, i get dizzy), and through another door that looks like it was made hundreds of years ago. the apartment is small, but incredibly cozy, with exposed beams and a stone floor, and several windows that look out onto all sides and different alley ways. ella fitzgerald way playing when we walked in, and it smelled like cinnamon and hemp. it's decorated to perfection, all wood furniture and beautiful artwork, lanterns and comfortable pillows. the views are spectacular, beyond belief: grey clay rooftops and time-slanted windows, cobblestones, and a mosaic of the virgin mary. antonio wasnt quite ready to leave, since my flight got in about an hour earlier then we planned, and so i read and unpacked while he tidied up and showered, and we had a cup of coffee and talked about what it meant to be a southerner and the temptations and economics (i didnt have much to say on that subject). when i unpacked my suit case a waterfall of confetti stars left over from the party went splashing onto the floor. i started to apologize, but antonio waved his hand and said, "it's ok, we were always encompassed by stars". i cocked my head and looked at him, thinking, jesus, is he getting cheeky already? but he laughed and pointed to the ceiling, where i saw a galazy of glow in the dark stars stuck to the wooden beams. the place feels like home already. later he took me on a walk around the neighborhood, to show me the grocery store, dry cleaners, farmacia, telephone shop etc. we stopped and he bought me a slice of pizza and a peroni, and he said that if he comes back to town before i leave he'll take me to sienna for a day trip. i giggled and told him that my mom would be so jealous. we've concluded that the reason that he's 34 but looks 26 is because of sienna, because of how soft and easy life is there. he said he's aged considerably since moving to rome, which is something to consider. i still want this place to be my home, though. ill just have to toughen up some.
so now antonio has gone, and i have the apartment to myself. i have my dear friend's ipod hooked into antonios speakers, and im listening to rilo kiley and rooting around the apartment, being nosey. i just feel more and more enchanted with every passing second.
the sky is bright blue, and its hot hot hot.
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