All Roads Lead to Home

Welp, the end came and went. I ended Rome on a beautiful note. Happy and healthy and full of love.
So heres the update:
Barcelona rocked my world. John, Tyler and I are the ultimate traveling trio. We do work.
I got good grades in all my classes, batted a hundred average for pretty much all of them. Ballin.
I bought an outfit for going home, so that I might land in the US lookin fierce. It worked. Thanks Zara for the ballin hot punk blazer.
I made all of my flights on time. It was magical. It was smooth flying because I popped a Nyquil pill and KOed for the entire 10 hours.
Crystal, my mom, and Luca picked me up from the airport and I promptly got an iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts.
Now I am home. I am without car because my Dad's got stolen (price you pay for livin in Springfield). Im happy to be home. I missed my fam, my dog, my bed, beans, goya, etc.
It feels weird to be home, but its a good weird.
John and I are going strong, doing the distance thing. Because we're bosses.
Im happy. This is the happiest Ive ever been in my life. Im focused now. I know what I want. I know who I am. I know where Im going. It's a good feeling.
I no longer rely on people for things. I know that I am fully capable of doing things all on my own.
I no longer care what people think, because it doesnt matter.
I have a more profound sense of self. I am more grateful for my family, the opportunities I have, and the blessings I've been given.
I've learned that Karma is, in fact, a bitch. But only if you're a bitch.
I feed off of people's energy, and I no longer put up with negative people.
Life is great. You but only if you make it so.
If you want to suffer, you will. If you want to be bored, you will be. If you want to be fat, you will be. You control everything in your life, minus natural disasters and the weather.
So be happy. Be fierce. Be free. Just be. Life is too short to be miserable all the time over things that dont matter.
I loved Rome, and it will have a piece of my heart forever. But I will take everything I learned and use it here, to make my life even richer than it already was. Because that's what it's all about. Living, and learning.
Thanks for following me through this journey of adventure and growth and eating hahahaha I wont write here anymore because I am no longer in Rome, so this seems counterproductive. But, if you just LOVE my blogging skills (or lack there of) you can follow me on Tumblr. I post less eloquently, but it's better than nothing? megagood.tumblr.com
Until we meet again<3

All we need is just a little patience...

Rome. It's all coming to an end in 13 days. And looking back on it, the main lesson I have learned from Rome is patience. Patience with the metro, with the people, with the language barrier, with my roommates, with my teachers, with the social rules, everything. Everything. But most importantly, patience with myself.  To learn that I dont have to learn everything at the speed of light, that I dont have to go a billion miles an hour. I can just be, and that's ok too. Also, prior to Rome, I had a bit of an issue with people not liking me. And looking back on it, I probably hated it so much when people didnt like me because it was a reflection of things I didnt like about myself. But now, I know myself. And I am sure of who I am and what I stand for. So when people dont like me, I can gracefully brush them off and know that it doesnt matter, because I like me. Which is all that ever mattered. Not to say that a lot of people dont like me, but there are a few who dont, that's just the way the cookie crumbles. People are going to talk crap and hate on you for no reason, but that is for the same reason I couldnt handle people not liking me; because they are insecure with themselves. So Rome has taught me that when confronted with people you dont like, keep your mouth shut. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING good comes from running your mouth. Usually you take it too far and then you end up with your foot in your mouth. So follow all the cliche rules. Dont say anything if you have nothing nice to say, do unto others, etc etc etc. Kill them with kindness. Because talking trash does nothing but spread the filth. Who wants to live like that? My role models all my life have been preaching this to me, and in typical teenage girl fashion, I ignored them, thinking I knew best. Now I know why EVERYONE (everyone worth their salt) preaches it. Because it's true. And it's the best way to live. Above the bull.

In other news, Rome is a zoo right now. The Beatification brought over a million tourists. We went to go see St. Peters, just for the sake of seeing what a million people looks like. It looks like a zoo. It looks like a lot of litter. It's claustrophobic and takes away from the beauty of Rome. I wasnt feeling it at all. I dont like to be touched. Especially by strangers. So being body to body with a bunch of sweaty tourists was not ideal.
There were trucks parked all over the place just handing out food and water to the masses. Fruits, veggies, snack boxes, juice boxes, etc. All for free. And people were going to town. People get wild for free things. They wait in line even if they have no idea what theyre getting. I hate those people. It's why I hate black friday. You wake up at 3AM just to save 2 dollars on an ugly sweater? Ridiculous. People have their priorities all out of whack. Rome has massive amounts of homeless people, if the left overs didnt go to a homeless shelter, I would be so disappointed. There was just so much to go around. For free. Why cant we do that more often for people who actually need it? And it was healthy food, carrots and apples, not McDonalds, the things people actually need. I dont know. The longer I live here, the more I realize that I cant continue to live my life without helping people less fortunate than myself. Because I am extremely fortunate, Im not rich, but I have a great life and a sound mind and body. I want to use what I can to help. it only takes one person right?

Speaking of Zoo's, apparently they found and killed Osama. I say apparently because they're burying him "at sea" and didnt show the body. The only time I am into believing without seeing is when it comes to God. Other than that, seeing is believing, and when it comes to a man we've been hunting for 10 years, I'm going to need some proof. And showing blood on some random floor, well, that just doesnt cut it. But hey, whatever, lets just say we did catch him, why the heck are we rioting at UMass? Really? We riot over winning the World Series, and killing someone...? No offense UMass, but have we really exhausted all the reasons we could think of to get wasted? I also know for a fact, that the majority of the people rioting had probably forgotten all about Osama, so this is a little immature and ignorant, dont you think? If I had a dollar for every ignorant fb status I read this morning, I'd be able to pay for an additional bag on the flight home. And this isnt just from college kids. Adults too. Guess stupidity isnt always something you grow out of.

In other news, it's almost finals week, so I have two more papers to bang out and then I have to start studying for finals. But I would be lying to you if I said that studying was going to take priority over making sure I soak up as much of Rome as I possibly can. I love Rome. It has become my second home and the boys have become my second family. So leaving will be tough. But I am ready to be home. To hug my brother and squeeze my dog. To speak Spanish with my mom and tell stories to my grandparents. I'm even looking forward to my dad telling me "youre an idiot" for my nose ring, because it will just be a healthy reminder that when everything in life gets twisted, turned, and flipped upside down, you're family is always consistent. And you gotta love them for that.

Wednesday is Barcelona! I cant wait. I cant wait to speak another language and be advanced in it hahaha
Should be a good time, it's the last trip I'm taking in Europe, so I have to cherish every moment I can. Cant believe how fast time went. Time flies when youre having fun!

Let my people go!

The title of this blog has zero to do with anything except for the fact that I have been on a Prince of Egypt craze. The soundtrack, the movie, I'm just all over it this week, idk why. Maybe it's because of Easter? I am into biblical Disney films? No idea. All I know is that the soundtrack is on repeat in my brain. Good times.

So I am blogging today to do what I did with the Palermo blog, to teach the rest of you to learn from my mistakes. Because I am just so kind like that, that I can put my pride aside, for you.

So here it goes: Today was a lovely Roman morning (now it's pouring, wonderful), so Alex and I decided to walk to the API offices. On the way there, as my ballet flats rubbed a massive blister into my heel, a car pulled over on the side of the road and asked Alex and I for directions. He was looking for Piazza Del Poppolo, and Alex quickly informed him that he was going in the wrong direction. And once we whipped out our trusty map and told him where to go, we assumed that we were free to go. But this man decided he wanted to tell us his life story. He was an Armani sales rep, from Milan, who was lost in Rome, with a rental car that was running out of gas. He then whips out his portfolio and shows us all of his stuff. We nod and smile, he continues with more stories in broken english and mainly italian. He then asks me if I can understand italian because I am italian. I kindly tell him no, and that Im in fact mexican. He gets all excited and tells me that Mexicans and Italians think the same. And Im just like "Oh ya, totally, mhm" and then he looks at Alex and askes "Is this your girlfriend?" Now, you see, I am a little worried that this guy is trying to ask me out or put me in his car and drive away, so Alex and I give each other tentative looks like "This guys is super sketch" and Alex puts his hand on my shoulder (in an awkward Ive-never-touched-you-in-my-life kind of way) and calmly says "Oh ya ya, she's my girlfriend." So Milan man proceeds to say "Do you mind if I give your girlfriend a gift?" We say no and he whips out a purse and says "This is a prototype, it's Armani, dont sell it ok?" Then he asks Alex what size shoe he wears, and reaches in the back and give Alex this fancy pants socks. Once again he reminds us not to sell these things, and explains how expensive they are. After all is said and done he says, "All I ask in return is for any kind of money for gas, my credit card is broken" (shows us the card). I legit have no money on me so I say sorry, no can do. But Alex does have money on him and gives him a 20 because he is a genuinely nice guys, and sympathizes with him. he says thank you, tells us to enjoy the gifts, and drives away.
Immediately when he leaves my mind starts Nancy Drew-ing this entire strange encounter. A) a Sales Rep for Armani from Milan, probably not driving himself anywhere. But I mean, whatever. but then...B) His portfolio was a little sketch, and it was plastic, not in a brief case, and it was just there and ready to be shown. But ok, that's fine too...BUT! What really caught me, was his watch. C) I know fashion, I know labels, I know what you wear if you also know fashion and labels. Even if you are fashionably inept, if youre rich, you have fancy things. Homeboy extended his hand to shake my hand (btw, weak, weak handshake, dead fish, wippy) and I immediately looked at his watch. It was meant to look nice, but it wasnt. It was a Seiko watch. Which for a regular bro is fine, but an Armani Sales Rep is not going to be caught dead with an a Seiko watch. Not once, not nevah. The minute he left it all comes rushing back to me and I'm like "lets see this stuff". The socks were socks, but no label. But the purse, aside from it being ugly (Armani or not) it was the most fake bag I've ever seen. And I know bags. I dont know much, but I know bags, and I can spot a fake from a mile away. This bag was the saddest fake I've ever seen.
Once we get to the API office, we dont even get to properly begin the story before Luca (advisor) has already finished it for us. Apparently, this guy is famous. But we were lucky. He usually just takes peoples wallets and guns it out of there. So we werent upset, we were actually kind of impressed hahahaha.
All and all, we got scammed I guess you could say. Neither of us bought it, but we still gave him money, but at least Alex got socks, and can give his actual gf a new purse.
Rome cracks me up. The fact that this guy spends his days pretending to be something he isnt, to make money, is just funny. But then again, I guess people do that everyday. Pretend to be something or someone they arent, to get ahead in business, or get a promotion, or beat someone out for a position. So what separates them from him? Nothing really. Cheating is cheating, neither is more honorable. It also made me kind of sad for him too, he is living his life, always pretending to be something more than he is, which is just a common criminal.
It's a funny story. It reminded me of Dan the Man from Paris (if you can recall that story), except Dan was for real, but still very strange.
Moral of the story is, always look at what people are wearing, it tells you everything you need to know. Idc what people say, what you wear says everything about you. hahahaha But really, dont take any wooden nickels, or fake purses.

This weekend is the Beatafication(sp?) of Pope John Paul II, so Rome is going to be crawling with people, theyre expecting at least a million tourists. I'll be there. I'm a little nervous to be surrounded by that many religious fanatics, but it will be the experience of a lifetime. There is also a bunch of free concerts this weekend too, so it's gonna be a good time. But when is Rome not a good time?

Lastly, on the bus ride home today I saw some graffiti that said "Si no sei felice, prova amare" meaning, "If you arent happy, try loving." I love that. I love love. I dont know much, but all I know, all I know, is love will save the day. <3

And the award for worst blogger goes to...

Me!
Ya I know, epic fail. But in my complete defense I have been really busy. Combine that with the fact that it's been gorgeous out, well, you could see why I wouldnt want to spend my time inside.
So here's the speed update:
SpringBreak! It was fantastical! Hit up London, Scotland, and Ireland. It was absolutely incredible. Minus the rape with no lube that happened due to the Pound. That was rough, but I got through it. Spring break pretty much broke my bank account, but it was well worth it. Three countries in 8 days is pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.
Crucial events of each city, ahem: I saw EVERYTHING there is to see in London, if there's a site, I saw it. So I wont bore you with the specifics.
-Pierced my nose. Love it. I dont really care if anyone doesnt like facial piercings. Keep your opinions to yourself.
-I climbed on a giant steel lion monument with Erika and a man had to boost us up and it was the most awkward/ ungraceful moment of both of our lives haha
Scotland- By far my favorite of the three places, just a lovely place to go, I fell in love instantly.
-made friends with a bag piper named Neal, he told me I have an excellent handshake and gave me his card to download his MP3's.
-Went on a ghost tour.
-Saw where JK Rowling got a lot of her inspiration and where she wrote her books (Elephant Cafe)
Dublin- Meh, not my fav...We were kind of in the hood, and it was just like America. Idk, I also dont drink, so I mean...there is half the appeal of Dublin right there hahaha
-Saw the hills of moher and went to Howth, both insanely beautiful.
-got followed by crackheads
Also, spring break allowed me to drink my body weight in over priced Starbucks coffee. It was magic. The main lesson learned from spring break was that not all accents are created equal. Legit, you think these accents are charming until you realize that only the British, Scottish, Irish people in the movies speak perfect english. Once you get there, everyone has there own dialect and some people might as well be speaking Chinese. Kind of funny. At one point a guy said to Erika "you dont speak english, you speak American." hahaha oops.
The following weekend I went to Tivoli with API, got some delicious food and got to see Hardians Villa and tan (clutch).
Then Arbrenne and Nate showed up, and I gave them the Meghan Goodine Express Tour, you know showing them everything you possibly can in a really short amount of time.
Monday at 1 I dropped them off at the train station and at 2 I picked up Yelena and Raisa, and gave them the Meghan Goodine Express Tour Part II.
Yelena had some ticket issues and ended up staying later than Raisa. Wednesday rolls around, and Im thinking its going to be just another day. I bring Yelena to school with me, and we enjoy a nice and awkward Art Therapy lesson, and when its over Im like, "Lets go to the park", and yelena very intensely tells me that she NEEDS to go home and change first. So we do, and then she tells me that we should go to the guys apt. Now, after two express tours, Im beat. So Im like ok but I need coffee first so I dont strangle innocent people. So after I drink my coffee in peace, Im sitting outside of the guys place, waiting for them to get back from their fieldtrip. As  I look up to their window I could SWEAR I see a girl pop out of the balcony. But Yelena assures me Im delusional and changes the subject to shoes (well played Yelena, well played). Well in come the boys, and John shoots past me, with a little "hello" that barely has time to linger in the air because he ran past me so fast. And you see, John had told me he was sick, so I was for some reason, under the impression that he crapped his pants. Why is that what I thought, I honestly couldnt tell you, but I did. So there I am, wondering how I am going to even look at this kid in the eyes if he did, in fact, shit himself.
I get inside and I look around for signs of crapped pants, and theres nothing. I breath a sigh of relief and look to my left, into the bathroom, and see a pink makeup bag. Right away I asses that it's not mine, and none of the guys have visitors, so I go inspect the makeup, without making a sound. I stare at it. Why does this makeup look so familiar? I use my pointer finger to push things around without totally invading some "strangers" privacy. "Who's makeup is this?" I shout. Giuliano, as per usual, has a smart ass remark "oh it's the girl I banged, she left her shit here." False. I was with you Julie bear, so thats a lie. I leave the bathroom and out of the corner of my eye I see pink luggage in Johns room. My female protective instinct kicks in for about 3 seconds and is like "THIS MOTHER EFFER SAID HE WAS SICK AND HES GOT A BITTY UP IN HIS ROOM?! DA F%@#?!" And then I open the door.












I leave such a large blank because thats what my brain did. It just kind of malfunctioned. I was convinced that I had neglected sleep for too long and my brain was now hallucinating. But I wasnt. I could see, smell, touch, hear everything just fine. So that only meant one thing: CRYSTAL PEREIRA WAS IN ROME SITTING ON JOHNS BED!" I almost fainted. I couldnt make words. Everything I wanted to say seemed stupid in comparison to how big of a deal this was. So I just cried and make noises that were so high-pitched that only a dog could hear them.
Was it the best surprise of my entire life? Yup. Was it the happiest I've been in Rome? Absolutely.
So I obviously gave Crys the Meghan Goodine Express Tour part III, I might have been more tired if I didnt have pure adrenaline running through my veins the second I saw her.

After she left, I had major school work to make up. considering I had put school on the back burner from thursday to saturday (as in 10 days, not 3 ha).
And this weekend was Easter weekend. It was really lovely actually. John, Tyler, and I booked Spain for the weekend after next,  went to the park, went on the Tyler Parry express tour, in which Tyler showed me a lot of the stuff in Rome I had no idea I was missing out on, and went to church on easter sunday.
This Easter was obviously different for 2 main reasons. Reason A) being I am in Rome, where Easter gets on and poppin. And B) I wasnt with my family. And that did bother me, but I was fortunate enough to be with people I love, so it wasnt bad. Im very lucky. I love a lot of people, and a lot of people love me. And that's true for basically everyone. So if you keep that in mind, the other crap doesnt really get you down. "Too blessed to be stressed" right? ha
I went to a baptist church for Easter Sunday, which was a huge change from a Mormon church hahaha
For starters, you can say Amen pretty much whenever you want. You can clap. And you stand up for the Hymns. Why go to a baptist church in the catholic capital of the world? Ummm because of everything fun I just listed above. haha

I've given up sugar in my coffee and soda, because I eat 16 pastries a day, so I need to take a chillaxi taxi on the sugar before I go into a diabetic coma. So I sit here blogging to you, drinking my home made coffee black, out of my shakespeare mug, feeling like I've got my theater kid swag on high. I should be writing a paper. But I have all day because I dont have school today. Which means I will procrastinate like it's my business, because it's raining outside and I have nothing better to do.
But you see, I avoid these sort of days, the "lazy days" as people call them because I A)feel disgusting and like I'm wasting my life and my youth (yes, I think all of those things multiple times when Im being lazy, Im neurotic.)  And B) It gives me too much time to think. Which doesnt seem like a bad thing, but as my departure from Rome looms over me, it kind of is. You start to think about the relationships you've made, and the ones you could've made, and the ones you wish you hadnt and its all so trivial because it's all stamped with an expiration date the second you get here. Making friends is easy. Keeping friends is hard. I just hope that the ones that matter most will be an ever present aspect of my life, because I do love them, and I am no good at goodbyes.
I am excited to take everything I've learned about myself here, and bring it home. I probably look the same, I talk the same (I might swear more, I'll blame julie bear for that) but I dont feel the same. It's hard to explain. But it's a pretty cool thing to experience.

In less introverted news... I ws told that the next time I blog I must give credit to Giuliano for all the wonderful things he's introduced into my life here. Starting the list with kinder eggs, little cake treats (idk what theyre called..), rice balls, some weird hotdogs thing (get your mind out of the gutter), and of course #10, Totti. Thanks Julie Bear! I'd be 10 pounds lighter without you! hahaha jk jk, kinda..

I promise, reader, that I'll finish this trip out strong and blog better. I have too. Not because it hipster fabulous to blog, but because I need to preserve every memory in every way humanly possible. And if I can entertain some people along the way, well that's just a plus.

Humidity is fun for everyone! Everyone who wants to be ugly.

I have mexican hair like it's no ones business. Just when I think my bangs cant curl up anymore, they surprise me with a new type of curly nonsense. So I'm not even fighting it. I'm going to be walking around all day and night in the rain, so I might as well embrace the chaos on top of my head, and whip mah hair back and forth.
This week was midterm week, which was like the first time I've cracked a book since being in Rome. Which makes the fact that I was complaining even more ridonkulous. But in an unexpected twist to my character, I actually studied! Ya, I know, big deal. But that's just because I knew my Art History exam was going to be horrible (it was) so I couldnt just BS it, as I usually do. I think I did aight, it wasnt perfect, but I knew more than the people sitting around me, who were eating the flesh off their nails in a panic. I spanked my film and mafia midterm without even trying because I actually pay attention in that class (weiiirrrrdddd) partially because I like the material of the class, and partially because I'm scared that my teacher is in fact in the mafia and will have me bite the curb if I dont pay attention.

Yesterday was absolutely beautiful out. 70 and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. So naturally I broke out a very spring appropriate outfit. And while I was at school, I decided that between classes I was going to sit on the balcony and try and absorb as much vitamin D as I could, because I'm the color of milk and I'm not havin it.
So there I am, sitting, minding my own business, in my new Ray Bans (that Im in love with), not doing or wearing anything provocative, when all the sudden a window across the street opens up and like 7 men in business suits start giving me a round of applause and telling me to spin around. Scuza, shouldnt you be doing business type things in your business suits? Not harassing innocent tanners? Just sayin. Oh italian men, so forward, so awkward, soooo metro. haha
I spent the rest of the day trying to be outside as much as possible, but quickly remembered that I had woken up at 5am to study, and decided I wanted to take a nap before my make up class at 9.
The nap was a bad idea because it just made me want to hibernate instead of go to class, but I mean, I put my big girl pants on and proceeded to go to school.

Now I wasnt in class on friday, so I had no idea why we were having a make up class on a tuesday night, at 9, the night before the midterm. But I was rolling with it.
I get to school and my italian teachers boy friend is there to "pick us up", and by pick us up I mean walk with us to the metro and then take us to our teachers apartment.
Now, I dont really trust people or their intentions, ever. So was I a little sketched out about walking down dark allies with this bearded man that I dont know? Yes. But again, rollin with it.
It takes us like half an hour to get to my teachers place from school, which is annoying because it's getting later and I'm so tired, but whatever. Sleep is for the weak.
We finally make it to her place (because her bf wasnt a creepy bearded rapist, but actually a really nice guy) and her crib is BALLIN. Like when I grow up I hope my apartment is so well decorated. She has excellent style though, so I wasnt entirely surprised by her superb decorating skills.
But we all sit in the living room and they bring out antipasto's and beers and wine, and soda and juice (which I think was specifically for me because she knows I dont drink) and then brought out some dank pizza. Naturally, as to not be rude, I stuffed my face and indulged in some pineapple juice.
We were supposed to be studying for the midterm, but that wasnt really working because we kept getting off topic and cracking jokes (in italian, holla) so it wasnt the most effective method of preparing for an exam. Especially since we didnt get home til midnight. It was really fun, but it felt weird seeing my teacher all googley eyed with her bf, looking at all her private things (like the poster that sex "FUCK" in her bathroom, or the poster of people fucking in the bathroom hahahaha) and then having to take her seriously this morning. But she definitely got it in last night after we left because this morning she was all giddy and hyper, glowing and jumping around. I mean, get it girl with your hipster bohemian bf.

So that was yesterday, today has been fairly uneventful, minus that I got eiffel towered in the metro today by some huge creepy dudes, so that wasnt fun.
Oh, and I took my art therapy midterm. It literally took me 15 minutes. It wouldve been 10 except I had to make photocopies of my doodles for her, so that took some time. It was like three questions long, and she gave us the answers. Woman is out of her mind. But it's all good. It's both entertaining, and an easy A. She gave me a hug today. She is literally to my boobs. She's so small, yet so strange. It's almost impressive that so much crazy can fit into such a small vessel.

Tonight should be fun. It's Roma's 150th bday tomorrow so all of italy is getting buck wild. Tonight there are fireworks at the colosseum at midnight, and I'm pretty sure we're all going out to party in the streets with the locals. Im gonna by like 11 redbulls. Ya, it's going to be THAT epic. Nbd.
Tomorrow is also St. Patty's day, so I'm sure everyone is going to pretend to be Irish and get shammered. hahaha So I guess I should probably buy 22 redbulls so I can disperse then out equally throughout the days. Except I should probably save a couple for friday morning, seeing as I'm leaving for Pompei at 7am... and then...SPRING BREAKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm pumped for spring break, minus that I have to fit 8 days worth of clothes into one backpack and have it not be heavier than 22lbs (its not as easy as it sounds...). But I've pretty much accepted the fact that these 8 days will be the ugliest/ least fashionable I have ever been, and I'm just gonna rock it. Idk how...but I am... I just dont know what I am going to do about shoes. What if we go out?! I need shoes!!!!!!! I might hyperventilate while packing for this trip. Im going to need a paper bag to breathe into.

Happy Hump Day everyone!

Palermo. Aka Meh, I've had better.

Ok, so I'm willing to hurt my own ego and tell all of you all of my mistakes in relation to this trip, so that you may all learn from my experiences and hopefully do it better than I did. Because this trip was not my favorite, nor was it the most successful, but as for everything in life, there were many lessons learned, and good stories to tell the grand kids (or nieces and nephews seeing as I probably wont procreate).

Also, this is me actively avoiding studying for my midterm. I know, procrastination is a bitch.

Ahem, anyways... Lesson #1: Dont go anywhere with out your passport.
Seems kind of counterintuitive to travel europe without a passport right? I know. I KNOW. Dont judge me, well us, this is what went down.
This week started out with John's sister Joanna and her friend Mariana coming to visit, so that was the main reason for going to Palermo. Trying to get more bang for their buck, ya dig? But the night before we left, we decided it would just be absolutely brilliant to go out. Ehhhhh not so much.
I might have failed to mention that we had a cab coming to get us at 4:30am.... Ya. No bene.
So we get to sleep around 3....wake up at four, and when I say wake up Im using the term very very loosely.
So we get in the cab, half asleep, half alive, some still a lil drunk, and begin our adventure to palermo.
Well, half way there someone realizes that they dont have their passport. Now here's the part you're going to look back on and say "Wtf?" but please bare in mind, we were all kind of asleep, and all the way stupid.
So we turn around and get the passport. Making the cab ride a little more expensive than we had been hoping for but I mean, hey, that's fine.
Except for when we get to the Check-In counter and two more people realize they dont have their passports either. See what I mean about the wtf? hahaha
Copies of your passports dont suffice, that is only if you're traveling on a bus or on a train. And to be fair, we are always told to not have our passports on us when traveling with in the country (Palermo is in Sicily). But in this case, it just wasnt going to happen. So what do we do? We hop in a cab and head back home, 45 minutes away. We have exactly an hour to check in, or else we miss the flight.
God must have been on our side because we run outside and there is a cab right in front of us, and instead of getting in that cab I look to my right and say "lets get in that one". At first this guy is saying something to me that I cant understand at all, which hasnt happened in italy yet. But I was so tired I could barely speak in english. So we walk away and then he flags us down and we run into the cab. Now, I am not sure if it is the desperation in our eyes, or if this guy was just the man, but homeboy should have driven from NASCAR. Instead of getting there in 45 minutes, we got there in 18. And we got back to the airport, with time to spare! And then we get to the security line, and there is no one in line! It was a legit miracle. I mean minus the 150 euro we spent on cab fair. But you win some you lose some right?
So things kind of start looking up from there, at least for a little bit, until we land and realize we have no effing idea how to get to our hostel and we have zero cash left to get a cab. Oh, and there is not an ATM in sight. And normally warm, sunny, Palermo, is cold and rainy. Peachy!
Cue Lesson #2: Dont go anywhere with out planning your transportation to and from the airport.
All I kept saying to myself this whole trip was "Thank God I speak italian", because literally, no one spoke english. But the problem is, Sicily speaks a really heavy form of italian dialect. So watching me in my tired haze try and communicate with these people was probably the equivalent of watching a monkey bang a coconut. You dont really know what's going on, and it isnt pleasant to watch, but you kind of hope something good will come out of it. Or at least something funny.
Luckily, I was able to tell the cab driver, Father Time, that we needed to get to our hostel, but needed to stop at a bank first, in order to pay him.
This man was probably the worst driver of all time, probably because when he got his license, the Flinstones taught driving school, and you put your feet through the floor board to move the car. But that is neither here nor there.
We get to the Hostel and it is actually beautiful, it's more so a hotel than a hostel. Which none of us had any problems with. But the minute any of us see the bed we immediately crash. Literally, fall on to the bad and pass out. For about 4 hours.
I know we needed it, but I really loathe sleeping that much and wasting time, in the middle of the day. It feels counterproductive. Mainly because it is.
But after we all awake from our comas, we decide to walk around. We come to find out that Palermo has a lot of open markets, which was pretty cool, minus the intestines hanging from clothes lines. hahaha Legit everywhere you turned you would see some kind of bloody intestine, brain, live, skinned baby animal, fish, eye ball, hoof, snout, literally, any part of the animal you wanted, they had it. And I mean it was actually pretty vile, and made you seriously question why you werent a vegetarian. But I wasnt as mortified because Mexico is pretty similar, minus that in between all the bloody meat hangings, are pinatas. The only this that got me was the entire body of a skinned baby cow, eyes still in tact. It was horrific.
So after walking through house of a thousand corpses, we took a little detour and found....SHOES! Ya, I got two pairs of leather (again, using the term leather loosely) for 19. 90 and then got red chucks for 10 euro. Try and beat those prices, ummm because you cant. So, that cheered everyone (meaning me) up by a lot.
Oh, I forgot to mention the coolest guy ever at the open market! He was selling strawberries, and to draw you in he would clean a strawberries, and put whipped cream on it and let you try it. What a great idea! Because we obviously bought some after that. But that's not why he's the man. After giving us or strawberries (for a very reasonable price I might add) he handed us his business card. But not of the berry business, oh no, but of his singing career. He calls himself "The Voice of Sicily" and the card said to check him out on YouTube. Bahahahahaha what a boss. That made my day.
We were still exhausted, so we crashed pretty early. But because this vaca was just the greatest, at around 1am I get a phone call from my dad. And he never calls me that late. So I knew something was up. I picked up the phone half asleep, and his voice was too happy, too chipper to be casual. At first he was just asking me why I was asleep and I told him I was not trying to walk around at night where the mafia was started, and he poked fun for a minute and then was like "Well honey Im just calling because I didnt want you to see it on fb from chuckie or anything and freak out, but Grandma fell down and broke her knee and has to go to the Hospital, we're on the way there now. But everything is fine. Dont be upset or anything." But because my dad knows me so well, he knew I was already crying by the time he said "Grandma fe..." But I got to talk to her at around 3, and she sounded strong and ok, so I was able to keep my composure better.
In the morning we wake up and decide that today is going to be a better day. The sun is shining, we got some sleep, things are looking up. Welp....
Enter Lesson #3: Never get on a bus and forget to stamp your bus ticket.
In italy, when you ride the bus, you dont pay when you get on, you buy a bus ticket, and then there is a little machine to stamp your ticket inside. In Rome, we dont worry about it because A) we rarely take a bus and B) we have a monthly pass so we dont have to. Well Palermo is intense, and we get on the bus, on our way to the beach, ready to have a good time, when all of the sudden the bus police ask for our tickets. Oh ya sure, you can totally have our tickets. Except they arent stamped. So he whips out a little notebook and asks for our documents. Shit. I try telling him in italian that we are tourists and didnt know the rule (not entirely true) but bro is not feelin it, and proceeds to demand 103 euro. Fuck. All I have is 15 euro, and I tell him that, so he hops off the bus, with our passports in hand. So I'm like "Shit, follow the guy with our passports!" After some serious groveling, he says we only have to pay 27 a piece. So it was still shitty, but so much better than 103. But the whole ordeal kind of killed some peoples moods, which sucked.
But we did make it to the beach! That was a plus. And it was the prettiest beach I've ever seen. Crystal clear water, surrounded by mountains, it was amazing. Still wayyyy to cold to swim, unless your name is John Schmulling. In which case you swim anyways, like a tard. Must be a Boy Scout thing.
The rest of the trip was fine from that point on really. Nothing too epic or too bad happened. It was fun, and we had an amazing dinner that night (I mean, minus Mariana, who only ate gelato) So things got better.
Most important lesson #4: Your attitude really makes the experience. Negativity will get you no where. And I know, for a fact, that positive things happen to positive people. Time and time again, on the best of trips, on the worst of trips, this has been proven to me. So always see the silver lining. And it is always easier to do so if you....
Lesson #5 DONT STAY UP LATE THE NIGHT BEFORE A FLIGHT! It's not worth it. It really isnt. I know I always rep the "Sleep is for the weak" motto, but when traveling, especially somewhere where you are 100% fluent in the language, you need your wits about you. You never know what could happen. As I've clearly illustrated here today.
I probably made this trip seem like such crap, but it really wasnt. It was just a bummer blowin money on correcting things that went wrong, but it was fun.

Now I have to try and multitask and do laundry and study for my art history midterm. I have no idea where to even start for that. That's the class where the teachers voice lulls me to sleep. Also, I dont have a library or Starbucks where I can study, so I have to try and be studious in my own home, where I can be distracted by any number of things. Like the fact that I know that no one has taken out the garbage since I left, or the fact that I know that no one cleaned up the salt that they spilled all over the counter. Just a few things like that. OCD+ADD= terrible at studying. Womp Womp.
I'll make it work. I just have to stay away from Tumblr, and Facebook, and anything that seems more entertaining than Art History....

Venice! Party party Carnivali!

Woo! What a weekend!
So this weekend consisted of Parma and Venice. And it started on Midnight on thursday night (technically friday morning). We took a night train and awaited for our train in probably the seedest train station I have ever been too. Im talking homeless people out the ass, dirty people who had homes all over the place, trash, graffiti, etc. It was just not ok. Add to it the fact that it's four girls (my whole house went) just sitting, at night, waiting for a train. It was not the most comfortable situation I've ever been in, to say the least.
So we get on the train and we are in little sectioned off rooms and Erika and I get the cart with the two old people in it. The old man was lovely, but his wifey, was a douche. There were six seats total, and homegirl was under the impression that she had the right to all of them! But I was like ummm no, and spread myself out as well. Her husband gave me this look like "Im sorry I married a dbag" and I gave him an apologetic head nod. Erika and I ended up twisting our bodies so that we looked like poorly constructed Jenga. And it wasnt the most comfortable sleep I've ever gotten, but it was sleep none the less. Five and a half hours later, we arrive in Parma. Well...Parma is ummmm small. First of all, we get off the train, and there is fog everywhere, it's raining, and there is nothing anywhere. And our ticket for Venice isnt for another 12 hours. So we all kind of look at each other like "ummm bump this, lets leave asap". So, in all italian, I managed to get us the earliest train to venice for free! Get at me.
But while we were in Parma, we made the best of our time. We had researched things ahead of time, so that we would know what to look for. Some how, with out a map, we managed to find the center of Parma, with all of its churches and sites to see, which were only like four.
We also went to Cioccolate Infinito. If you ever find yourself in Parma, go there! It was the most incredible chocolate I have ever tasted. Just so amazing, I recommend it to anyone. I also was chatting it up with the store owner (again, in italian) and just trying to make friends where ever we went. I basically just wanted to speak italian to anyone who would listen. Im trying so hard to get faster and more fluent so that when I get back I can start taking french or Portuguese. It would just also be helpful to get perfectly fluent before I leave the country ha
But we killed all the time we had to kill and two trains later, we were in mestre, a town in the main land close to venice. We stayed at one of the nicest Hiltons (thank you Mr. Johnson) and rested for a second, then grabbed the bus to Venice.
Parma was literally BLOWN out of the water by Venice. Venice is the prettiest place I've ever seen. You cant take a bad picture of Venice. It is exactly what you think it's going to be. There are 400 bridges in the teeny tiny city of Venice. No cars. And so many boats. It's beautiful. And we got there as the sun was setting, so it was at it's height of perfection. Also, the crappy weather in Parma didnt follow us to Venice, there wasnt a cloud in the sky.
So we went for Carnivale. Which is basically like a cooler version of Mardi Gras. We started out just by walking around and getting a feeling for the city, and just fell completely in love. We got dinner by the water, sat outside and watched all of the crazy ornate costumes walk by.
After dinner, we put on our masks, and blended in with the crowd.
Masks get rid of you inhibitions, let me tell you. People just do the strangest things. Including myself, there was a mini rave in the middle of the street and I just hopped right in and started dancing like a fool. Usually I dont dance like a white person and jump around, I just kind of keep to myself if I dont think I can properly dance. But the mask made me a fool! I just jumped around and got buck wild to whatever music came on. New, old, techno, disco, whatever, I just wanted to have as much fun as everyone around me (I had to work a little harder just because everyone around me was shitfaced) but I think towards the end we were all on the same level, because I was so exhausted I was getting delusional.
But around 11, we all started to fade, our eyes were getting a little too heavy, and even a street dance party couldnt keep us going. So we headed back to our lovely hotel and proceeded to crash, hardcore.

Flash forward to 10am when we head back to the island, and I am shocked. The day time is 100 times more bumpin than the night time. Literally you are touching someone at all times because there are so many people crammed into this little city. Everyone is decked out in something, whether it's a mask, or face paint, or both, or a full blown head-to-toe costume, everyone is doing something. Naturally, because I'm five, I got my face painted (we all did, I wasnt the only dork) and I loved it! I love getting my face painted though, because I'm really not that cool of a person, and I like any reason to be covered in glitter. Strangely enough though, this german tourist took about 100 pictures of me while I got my face painted. No lie. And every time I smiled he would lose his shit and take 100 more. And then some random broad just started filming me. And I was so confused...I had no idea why they were enjoying watching me so much ahaha whatever makes you happy I guess.
It took forever to get through the city because its made up of little allies everywhere, and hundreds on people squeezing through just doesnt work out as well as you would want it too. So dont go to Venice during carnivale if you're afraid of crowds or any kind of claustrophobic, it's not going to work out for you, sorry. But it is totally worth it. Maybe you should just get over that fear.
It's almost hard to write down everything we did because a lot of the excitement consisted of walking around eating my body weight in candy, throwing confetti on strangers, and looking at all the decked out people. Because that is literally all we did. And it was awesome in every way.
We also went on a gondola ride! My gondola guy wore a stripped shit and little hat and everything. Stefano was his name actually. He wasnt a very jolly fellow, until I asked him to take a picture with me, and then he cheered right up hahaha
The night time was kind of a pain in the ass though because all of our things were at the hotel on the main land, while the train we were taking home (again a night train) was on the island. So we had to go get our things and then come back and walk around with our huge lumpy backpacks, that were both heavy and not space-efficient, which made walking around a crowded city less appealing. So we spent our last two hours sitting at a cafe, people watching all of the absurdly drunk people getting off the trains.  It was actually extremely entertaining. Until I saw a man dressed in a KKK outfit, and I wanted to junk punch him. No one should find that kind of ignorance funny or amusing. I couldnt believe it, I couldnt believe anyone would ever have the balls to do that. In that moment I wished I had to ability to teleport people. I would've dropped that piece of shit in Springfield's Six Corners, see how funny everyone there found it. It was just a healthy reminder that people really are very ignorant still. Kind of a buzz kill.
But aside from that asshole, the whole trip was absolutely perfect. Seriously, drama free, fun-filled, and awesome. All of us got a lot closer as roommates, which was really nice. And it was cool to have a girls weekend and gush over shoes and jewelry together. I did most of the gushing, but that is irrelevant.
I'm becoming addicted to traveling. I have no idea what I'm going to do when I get home and cant go anywhere I want all the time. Im probably going to go a little stir crazy.... I mean, I did that before I left, so it's probably going to be heightened now.
This week will be pretty busy as well just because John's sister and her friend are here and we're both kind of playing tour guide, trying to show them everything we can before we leave for Palermo.
Time is now speeding up, which is weird. I'm trying to not let myself get too too attached to my life here, because I'm always consciously aware of how temporary it is. And I'm logical to the point of ridiculousness, so I dont want to be sad when I get home. Because that's my real life you know? I want to bring all of this happiness with me. I want to love my real life with as much enthusiasm as I love my fake life. Because I've never been so happy or stress free in my entire life. And I cant lose that. I feel so alive, so healthy, so full of passion for everything. And I want it forever. And I know that if I try hard enough, I can make my world at home this happy too. Sounds weird and naively optimistic, but I know Im right. Im becoming who I've always wanted to be, and coming into my own. And I think thats 90% of the happiness.

The bubonic plague

So I am becoming notoriously terrible at the blogging. My irregularity it just terrible. My bad. But in my defensive, I almost died. Ok total exaggeration. But this is the story, ahem:

So last Thursday, me, Krista, Tyler, Dani, and John, went to this little town that is full of ruins called Ostia Anteca. Now in my mind we were going to go there, hang out see some things, and peace. But! To my surprise, YOU CAN ACTUALLY CLIMB ALL OVER THE RUINS! Like no joke, it is like a giant play ground. You can jump off on things and crawl into holes and climb all over and on top of things, all while seeing some sights! I mean, are you SUPPOSED to climb on them? Probably no....But is there anyone there to regulate/ stop you? Nope, so we all got buck wild. It was literally, so much fun! The boys were trying to do hardcore parkour, which was funny to watch. And Krista and I got really close because we found out that we have really similar personalities. So it was a huge success.
Later that same day we all decided that we wanted to go to the Hard Rock Cafe, Roma. So all of us went, plus Giuliano, Alex, and Sam. Which seemed like a good idea at the time. And at the time, it was sooooo amazing. I had the biggest, juiciest burger ever. And I had been wanting that for so long, so I was so happy. But the happiness was so momentary...

Later that night, as I was getting ready to pack for florence, which I was leaving for at 8am with API, I started to feel less than great. Pretty soon I started to feel so sick and nauseous that I could barely stand up. I felt dizzy and weak, and I said screw it to packing, and went straight to bed. At around 1am, shit got real, and I proceeded to violently vomit until 5:45am. It was just awesome.
Needless to say packing didnt go well. As a matter of fact, I only brought the shoes I wore there (sneakers...Im ashamed) and NO ACCESSORIES! YA! That's how sick I was. I looked horrible. I wore no make up on the bus, had a sallow, pale face, and looked dead. I slept the whole way there, and even when I thought that maybe I would be ok to walk around and see things, I wasnt. I ended up sleeping the entire first day of florence. I was just buried under a huge layer of blankets, being miserable. And it was extra crappy because I felt like I was missing out on so much (which I hate) and I was all by myself (which I hate more). But I wanted to be alone, I didnt want to drag anyone down in my bubonic plague death ridden hotel room.
Im really lucky though. Dani and John magically nursed me back to health. Dani gave me her blankets (though our room was freezing) and John managed to find me magic medicine that brought me back to life, and bought me crackers (all I could keep down) and a Sprite. To be honest, I wasnt really alive, but I can vaguely remember them coming in and out of the room to check up on me and take care of me. And each time John found it necessary to call me a different type of mexican food haha it varied between "little burrito" "taco salad" and "little taco". I was comatose, so I didnt complain. But I wouldnt complain anyways, I was being taken care of, and it was  out of the kindness of there own hearts. I love them. And Im so grateful for that because the next day I was an entirely new person!
Florence was really nice. But really small. I liked it, but I honestly didnt get to see as much because I missed a whole day and only had another day to catch up. BUT! I went shopppppiiimnnnnnggggg! Yeaaah Boy, I did work at the leather market. Florence is famous for its leather market, and I indulged. New coat, new travel bag, jewelery, scarf, holla holla. No shoes though! Be proud of me! Because I sure am.
I also got to see The David. And it is the most immense thing you will ever see. Like you dont understand its grandeur in a picture. He is just so big and perfect and you see something different every time you see him at a different angle. I suggest seeing it. It will change your life. Seriously, it's one of the most impressive, beautiful things you will ever see.
I also took a cooking class! And I made tiramissu! And Crepes! AND I FLIPPED THE CREPE IN THE PAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was so proud of myself you dont even understand. I even made whipped creme and chopped onions (my first time for both). I am basically going to come back a culinary genius. Nbd. Meaning it's the biggest deal! Seeing as when I came here I could barely boil water. Get. At. Me.
Oh, and I went to a vineyard and got a tour of the cellar and then got a wine tasting, but seeing as I dont drink, I wasnt really interested. And it was fricked snowing. Snowing! What is that?! I was not impressed. But I got a lot of cheese at the wine tasting so I was content. And the guys got all my wine, so they were content hahaha.

I love the guys, I really do. They're so funny. I spend more time at there place then my own, I just like to listen to the absurd things they say.

But ya, that was Florence. It probably would have been more epic if I wasnt dying a slow painful death, puking my life away. But it was still a win over all.

I'm going to Venice tomorrow for Carnivale, which is super exciting, I have a mask and everything, so Im ready to party. Bouts to get buck wild. And Krista's dad sprung for all of us to get a hotel room, which is BALLIN. Im excited.

But now I have to hop off the computer, because this isnt mine. But I'm going to write more often, now that I've survived my near death experience. Hallelujah.

It's a pandemic!

Or an epidemic.. or maybe just my roommate is sick and I'm being dramatic.
Ya, that's probably it.
Regardless, my actual roommate, the one I share a room with has the flu and Bronchitis. So me, being the germaphobe that I am, and staying far far far away from her. I love her and all, but I dont have time to be sick. I'm a busy girl. This weekend I'm off to Florence, next weekend I'm off to Venice, the following weekend I'm going to Palermo, the weekend following that I'm going to Pompei and then it's spring break and I'm off to London, Scotland, and Dublin. You think I would come back and chill but the next weekend, the first of April (yikes) I'm going to Greece. So I mean, there is zero time for illness. Not that I ever have time for illness, but now more than ever, I need to be healthy and well so that I can walk everywhere and be alert and attentive.

Speaking of attentive....I have zero attention span. It's getting worse by the minute. I literally cant pay attention to anything my Art History teacher says, even though she is wicked cool and is teaching me things I want to know. The minute she opens he mouth, I want to nap. I should have her come over on the nights I have insomnia and have her lull me to sleep.
Today we went to the Church of St. Augustine and saw a painting of the Madonna by Caravaggio. The priest that was in the church was talking to our teacher in italian and was saying that this painting was the most beautiful painting in the world, and that this church was the second most important church in Italy (second to St. Peters, duh). The painting was very impressive, but only because Caravaggio is such a dark artist. He saw things in a way most painters didnt. And portrayed them in ways you werent expecting. He was also a runaway, seeking refuge because he killed a man, but the Cardinals loved him and his art, so they kept him safe. He was called "A damned artist", which makes him sound like a badass.
I started to pay attention towards the end of this because I was interested and I learned that during the baroque period, the put skulls all over churches as "Momento Morti" which basically is a reminder that we're all going to die. And it seems a little redundant because most of us dont really forget that little fact, but they were trying to reinforce the idea that you shouldnt dote on the fleeting and focus on the things that truly matter (in the case of the church, God) and live everyday as if you were dying tomorrow. And I love that. I think if you use that mentality you'll take more risks and live more open. Which is crucial to a full life. Being open to things. So I'm learning anyways. I learn so much here. Not just about culture or the world, but about myself. And it makes everything worth it. Because knowing who you are makes life easier. It enables you to make decisions to better suit YOU and the future you're trying to create. It's power.
Also, if I ever get the Mexican Sugar Skull tattoo, I'll get momento morti under it. or in it. But I doubt I'll get it. I'm running out of places to hide things hahaha.

Today was actually a great day I spent the day with my roommate Krista, getting gelato, going to the Vatican post office, and adventuring to Villa Borghese (the biggest park here) where we took impromptu photos and did our homework. Now we're off to make dinner with the boys and then to a wine bar. We're also going to book Greece and plan out things we want to do here. We both like to plan and write things down. And be clean. So basically, I love her haha.
OH! Today was my first time reading a map. And though I LOATHED looking like a tourist, I was proud that I didnt get us lost! Holla at ya gurrrl.

Weekend Update with Meghan Goodine

Remember that time I was talking about a sleep schedule? bahahahaha what a silly idea. Just the fact that I thought that I could create and stick to any kind of sleep pattern is hilarious.
So, the weekend. Now, in my not-so-real-life in Rome, I have a 4 day weekend. Thursday through sunday. I have a longer weekend than school week. Which just further proves my "This isnt real life" theory.
This week was my roommate Krista's Birthday, and we had already gone out for dinner on the actual day of, but like all birthday girls, she wanted to go out and party. Clearly I was down, because I love to dance. And do anything social. And any excuse to dress up and wear things with sequence and glitter.
So we find out through a friend of a friend that there is the club called Akab, and it gets on and poppin in the Trastevere area. Which is way south from where we live. But we figure out the buses, and get ourselves to Akab (after stopping at BK for both french fries and directions, dont judge me).
Pretty much Trastereve is a ditch with several clubs in a circle around it. And I would be lying if I said it wasnt one of the seediest places I had ever been too, and I'm from Springfield, so I mean...
But regardless, we were going to make this work. So we stood outside of the club waiting for our other friends who were taking a cab to meet us there. While we waited, I noticed a guy making his way directly to us, and proceeded to come over and ask me if I had a lighter. I politely said no and returned to playing bejeweled on my cellphone. But apparently homeboy was looking for a friend so proceeded to ask for our names and such. His name was Johnny, a soccer player from Roma, with a tattoo of a gecko on his neck. He kept telling me in a very thick italian accent that it was pronounced Jecko in english, and I was just like hmmmmm welp, if anyone is going to know how to pronounce things in english, brochacho, it's me, the english speaking party of this convo.
He said he was waiting for his friends too, and I didnt feel too creeped out by him so I didnt junk punch him and make him leave.
His friends finally got there, and there were about 6 of them, all dressed very nice, all looking a little bit too fancy for gecko Johnny. So Johnny said his goodbyes after a failed attempt at trying to get me to leave my girls.
Flash forward to 15 minutes from now when our friends show up and there is a huge line to get in. I'm thinking, great now we have to pay a cover and wait forever. Except just kidding, because Johnny and his friends were apparently VIP and grabbed me and said, "They're with us" and proceeded to let myself and all of my friends in for free, cutting all the people waiting in the cold. Oh worrrdddd??
Now I'm not stupid. Boys dont do nice things for girls they dont know, at a club, for free. They're expecting something. Maybe something as innocent as a dance partner, but something more vulgar, like a sex partner. Either way, I wasnt down for either outcome, so te minute we were in, I threw up the deuces, and split from GJ (gecko Johnny) and Co.
I'm glad I did, because GJ decided to go snort some coke in the bathroom, and come back a little more jazzed up than before, and a little more aggressive. And maybe every guy in the club was snorting coke, because they were all trying to have sex on the dance floor. Luckily, I had a protective barrier, and had my bitch face on, so I didnt have any issues. Other girls, not so lucky.
Now this place probably has you thinking I was scared for my life, seeing as everyone was about 7 feet tall, and white was the minority by a lot. But I felt right at home, I knew who to NOT talk to, and how not to act, which is really the key to everything in life. And they were BUMPIN the jams, so I just got my dance on and ignored how hood rich the environment was. Years of Springfield public schools prepared me well.

Now, we peaced out at around 3 am. And I wont put anyone on blast, but I will say this, shit got real. Some things were said that never should have been said to me, or to anyone, and my hoodrat creeped out and got the best of me. It's only happened once before this in all of my 20 years, but both times I got loud. Really loud. And if you know me at all, you're probably so confused because I'm generally so level headed and trying to be the peace maker. But be warned, I'm still mexican. From Springfield. And every now and then, I cant keep that as locked up as I'd like too. everything is fine now, and I'm not proud of how of my actions, but I am proud that I defended myself. It wont happen again though. Losing my cool ruins my make up haha
Ps, thanks Dad and Crystal for being there and calming me down. I love you.

The following day I slept til around 1:30pm because I went to bed around 5:30am trying to get my blood pressure to lower. Me and the guys were going to try and go on a day trip, but that just wasnt going to happen waking up so late. So we decided to have our first chill day since we arrived in Rome and made dinner at their place and watched The Gladiator (I know, we're corny,but I had never seen it).
Later that night we got invited to go to a place called Art Cafe by some of our other friends from school. And by the name it seemed like a pretty chill way to spend the night, which would be a nice change up from the night before. SIKE! We roll up to this place and it is BUMPIN! Everyone is dressed to impress. Girls are in heels that make their legs look never ending. Guys are all rockin the sweet line ups, tight pants, button-ups, sweet shoes, etc. And everyone, everyone has their bitch face on. When you think of a typical european night club, with strobes and techno and bounces and a guest list, that was Art Cafe. Now due to extenuating circumstances, I didnt have any make up on. Shocking, I know. And I wouldnt go so far as to say I thought I looked ugly but with all the Ardianna Lima's everywhere, I wasnt feeling top notch. But hey, I'm an actress, so I pushed my shoulders back, chin up, shook up my hair, and applied a little extra bitch and lip gloss.
But after all was said and done, me and the boys turned around and decided to go eat and watch Hannibal. Which, now thinking about it, makes us sound really sick hahahaha we only ate cookies, not people. Promise.

Yesterday as a whole was pretty good. We went on a hunt for this little Sicilian Bakery that was known for Canoli's (delicious), went for a walk, went grocery shopping, got fresh strawberries and pineapple at the open air market, and then went to La Vie Bohemian for aperitivo, which is probably the best cafe in Rome. $8 for aperitivo, with really delicious food, and a really great atmosphere. Really eclectic, and LDM students get a discount. Holla.
Afterwards we all went out to Campo Di Fiori and met Dani's friends from school that were visiting. We chilled at Sloppy Sam's for a bit because Studio 18, the club we were going to go to, was infested with children, and we all felt creepy. hahaha guess that's what happens when there's no age limit.

Now it is Sunday, the day of rest, the day to do all the homework we ignore during our extra long weekend. But more importantly, the day to meet the Pope. Ya, THE POPE. I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned that I can see St. Peters Basilica from my apartment, and it is about a 10 minute walk from me. So this morning we woke up to go hear the Pope address the people. The entire square was filled with people. Some clearly catholic, some clearly not. People had banners and flags and were waiting for the Pope like he was a boy band in the 90's. The devotion was overwhelming, but in a good way.
He spoke on loving your enemy, praying for the trespassers, and loving your friends, family, and God. All of which sounds pretty reasonable to me. He also spoke to the crowd in 6 different languages. Italian (duh), Spanish, French, English, German (duh), and Polish, along with reciting things in Latin. He even said hello to certain groups he knew would be there, like the Carnivale Singers from London, and a group from Colombia. And every time he did, the people went wild. Not only is the leader of your faith speaking, but he knows you're there, and in a crowd of hundreds, maybe thousands, he acknowledges you. That's amazing. I got goosebumps. And I'm Mormon haha.

Now I have to buckle down and do work, because homework is the only thing that makes living here anything real. For crying out loud, I eat all day long, pastries and pasta, and I'm LOSING weight. You tell me this is real life. Because it's not.

The catch up

Due to the fact that Paris zapped me of all my brain power, I have been a little behind on all the other things I have been up to.

First of all, Valentines Day happened. And It was perfect. I went to a very fancy restaurant with a very handsome gentleman who pulled out my chair and treated me like a lady for the entire evening. This place was actually known for the fact that all the Popes and Cardinals come to eat there. Which is a little bit of a big deal.
Prior to my fancy Vday dinner, LDM (my university, if you can even call it that) set up what they were calling a "Cultural Exchange" meaning we all go to apperitivo at a bar and meet up with Italian students and practice our italian and hopefully make some friends along the way.
I met a couple cool people, but the ages were actually really randomly spread out. There were some middle aged lawyers and balding engineers, so it was a little awkward at some points. Also, they were all there to practice their english, so the whole speaking italian thing, wasnt going according to plan.
But in all honesty, I really do think I'm improving. I got my nails done the other day, and my manicurist didnt really speak english very well, so we relied on my italian to get us by. And she didnt hack off my fingers, so I guess I did alright.

Wednesday night I went with my study abroad program, API, to go see Swan Lake. I was so excited I thought I was gonna pass out (funny, until you realize I faint all the time, haha).
Now here is the thing about API; there are two schools, JCU and LDM. JCU has around 200 students, LDM has well, ummm 27. How that dynamic works out I have no idea. But regardless, only three of us from LDM decided we wanted to go see the Ballet, so we were out numbered by around 60. We kept calling each other the red-headed step children of API because we were so outnumbered and all kind of felt a little awkward.
Thankfully, I got to meet up with two of my really good friends from school, who go to JCU so I was happy as a clam (not too sure why clams are happy, but I roll with it).
Swan Lake was absolutely beautiful. From the moment it started I had goose bumps. There was just so much elegance to the way the dancers moved their bodies. It was like they were weightless. The guys picked them up and swung them around like they were stuffed animals. But I mean, they were probably some of the skinniest women I have ever seen second to Crystal, so I'm sure it wasnt too hard of a task.
As I watched in complete amazement it hit me why I love dance so much. All my life I've loved language, and have always had the good fortune of being bilingual and being able to relate and communicate with lots of different people, even more so now that I am solidifying my knowledge of a third language. But dance is universal. There were no words, because it's a ballet, but yet everyone around me (with an IQ over 60 and an attention span) knew what was going on, what the characters were feeling, and felt the emotion. The audience's emotions swayed with the movements of the dancers. And that is beautiful. That is a universal language.

Side note: i just watched John test the sharpness of a knife by sliding it against his finger tips. Thankfully neither were too sharp. Only a boy would do that.

In other news, I've been making myself meals. YEAH I KNOW. You almost thought it could happen huh? Ya, me too. I mean they havent been grand four course meals or anything, but it is a grand step above ramen with lemon and hot sauce (as delicious as that may be).

Today we're taking a little adventure to Orvieto, or at least I think we are. I'm going with the boys, and boys need to eat around 50 times before they go anywhere. But I'm not complaining, I get to enjoy the spoils.

la vie est magnifique!

Ok, so I went to Paris and didnt have the internet for four days (yes, and I lived, which means you all can too! hazza!) so I didnt get to keep a daily blog of what was happening. To be honest though, I probably wouldnt have been able to. By the time my days were over my brain had just shut off. No amount of redbull or coffee could save me ha.
But I will do my best to accurately depict what happened. This will probably be really long...guess we'll find out how much you really like my blog if you read the whole thing or not hahaha

So the night before I attempted watching the Duke v. North Carolina game, which started at 3am...Italian time. Needless to say, that didnt really go as planned, but I still only got around 2 1/2 hours of sleep because our taxi was coming at 4:15 to bring us to the bus station. The bus station that would then bring us to the airport. So at 4 am the four of us, Erika, Ashley, John and myself head out on our first trip out of italy. So after one taxi ride, one bus ride, and a 2 and a 1/2 hour plane ride, we arrive in an airport an hour out of paris, so we take yet another bus into Paris!
Paris really is beautiful. Right off the bat I knew I liked the city. And right off the bat I knew I did NOT like the people. They kind of suck. And smell. Which is a pretty shitty combo. Apparently deodorant is not a country favorite in Paris. Womp womp.
My whole life I wanted to go to Paris to see all the fashionistas. To look at everyone's chic style. And to eat a baguette wearing stripes. So I obviously packed accordingly. I put together the chicest outfits I could fit into a backpack, and prayed it would suffice.
It did. There was no one too fashionable that blew my mind in Paris, which was almost a let down. I was looking for inspiration I guess.
Anyways, day one began at 11:30am. And right away I remembered "Damn, I dont speak french" and right away, that became a problem. The french dont take kindly to people who dont speak french, and really dont care to speak english, which causes quite the communication barrier. Something I havent ever really had a problem with, because my italian is better than I thought, and Spanish always comes in handy. So I felt like a fish out of water. But instead of panicking in true Meghan fashion, I chilled out and let myself be a tourist.
We had to find our hostel from the metro station, which thankfully was easier than I had expected. And speaking of expectations, I literally had none for this hostel. I just prayed that it wasnt like the movie Hostel. I could deal with everything else. I was prepared for the worse. But was pleasantly surprised. Peace and Love Hostel was perfect for us. The minute we walked in we met Nyema (sp?) who was probably the coolest most outrageous foreign woman I have met that isnt my mom. She was so fun and made us feel right at home. Now this place wasnt the Ritz Carlton or anything, but it was all we needed, and we were happy.
So the first order of business was eating. We all had stank faces on, and our conversational skills were lacking because we were all hungry. So Nyema recommended Chez Papa, a restaurant down the street from the hostel.
The french are fricken weird. Everything was duck, innards, snails, basically the shit you pull out of the turkey and throw away. It doesnt help that I'm super picky and that everything makes me sick, so I was having some issues with the cuisine.
I thought I played it safe and ordered steak. False! It was almost raw, so I almost puked everywhere, because I could almost hear the cow mooing on my plate. Not ok.
But after the food fail, we did what you're assuming we did and hit up the Eiffel Tower. And it's funny because we were making jokes on the metro saying things like "I'll pay you to go up to someone when we get there and ask where the Eiffel tower is" and then we get off the metro and we're looking around and looking on the map as to where to go, and over the trees I see this metal thing and I go "Hey guys isnt that it?" and they all chuckle and little and are like "pshhh nah it's like a cell phone tower thing, thats too ugly." Welp. Guess verizon has an Eiffel shaped cell phone tower, because I was right! hahahahaha On a scale from one to dumb ass we were all feeling a little on the 's' side.
We climbed all 669 stairs to get to the top, which wasnt as tiring as I was expecting it to be on 2 and 1/2 hours of sleep. And the view was worth every step.
And from that view I saw a Ferris Wheel. And because I'm 5, I begged everyone to let me go to it. Also because I'm five I didnt realize that my distance perception was wayyyyy off from what I was expecting. But everyone played nice and let me go.
It was Johns first time on a Ferris Wheel, and I got candy after, so it was totally worth it in the end, if you ask me.
On our way back we passed the fancy shopping area, that had both street break dancers, a massive H&M, and a starbucks, so I could've stayed there all night. Expect no one else was feelin it but me, so we left abruptly. But not before I found 5 euro, which compensated me for the candy I bought earlier. Score.
We wearily made our way back to the hostel and quickly found out that our bar gets bumpin at night. So bumpin in fact, that Ashley said "I'm so happy there's a hostel in our bar" hahaha
We met the coolest people. Right away the bar tender was talking to me, and I received my first round of free shots. To which I quickly informed him that I didnt drink. He looked at me for a minute, shook his head, looked again and said "An American that doesnt drink?? I didnt think those existed?!" bahaha But luckily for me, he stayed cool and supplied me with free pineapple juice the rest of the night! Score again!
I made friends with a boy named Matt, from Brazil, who was just in france to kill time before going to spain for school. We talked for a bit in spanish, and everyone socialized. Around 11:30 Matt invited us to a party. And for some reason, I said yes, which I never ever do. But we all hopped on the metro, and hoped for the best.
But then the po-po messed everything up. And I got arrested.

haha jk

But they did ruin everything. Erika forgot her metro pass in the hostel, and just slid through with John. We were not aware that the cops would be down by the trains checking metro passes. Because she didnt have hers, they fined her 40 euros. Yeah. It was a total buzz kill, and it made Erika want to do an immediate U turn back to the hostel. Which we ended up doing. But it was for the better! Because I had redbull! And bumpin music! But eventually exhaustion got the best of us and we called it a night. Saying goodnight to our new friends Brenda, Travis, Matt, and Chris.

Day 2 The Louvre. Ya, I chilled with the Mono Lisa, nbd. Except it totally is! But you cant do it all in a day. There is just so much to see. And you want to let everything soak in, because it is all so beautiful. Some of it is even haunting. If you ever get a chance to go, do it.
Besides that, the next eventful thing to happen that afternoon was the shammered guy on the metro back that grabbed on to Erika's neck. It wasnt funny when it happened, but as I type this I'm cracking myself up because he just kept telling us he wanted to introduce us to his good friend, in spanish. He was clearly and couple bottles and needles deep. You cant cry. So you just gotta laugh. Right? Well I did, Erika, clearly didnt.
That night we decided we wanted a little taste of the Parisian night life, and I had found me some cheap redbull. So I was ready to shake my groove thang. Ya I said it.
We ended up find a bar called Charlotte Bar, which THRILLED John because that the name of his home town in NC, and it thrilled me because I heard reggaeton bumpin from the inside. So I mean, it couldve been called "The worst bar of all time" and I still wouldve gone in because it had spanish music. So it got on and poppin. I danced like it was my job, and we all seemed to have a great time. Especially when I found 5 euro... again! I also got deep fried chinese food after at like 2 am, which was awesome. Chinese food is always exciting because you're almost playing Russian Roulette, you're taking the chance that this food could possibly give you some crazy disease because they mixed too many cat intestines together. But it tastes so good that the fat kid inside you blocks out your logic.
Tragically enough, after all of the festivities, ALL OF MY PICTURES GOT DELETED.
Ya. I almost cried. Actually, I'd being lying if I didnt tell you that I teared up a little bit. But worse things have happened to better people. So I sucked it up and proceeded with Erika's 21st bday celebration the next day.

Now, 21 is nothing special to europeans. So whenever we would excitedly tell people it was her 21st, people just kind of looked at us like we were stupid haha
We didnt know what to do during the day to make Erika's Bday memorable. So we clearly made the obvious decision of going to the Red Light district of Paris, and seeing maybe 50 sex shops in a row, followed by a visit to the sex museum. If you're ever looking for a way to completely abstain from sex, go to the sex museum and look at the plethora of pictures of women who havent shaved their gine since they came out of the womb. Or better yet, just look at all the creepy versions of the devil and his dick. You'll become a nun after that.
We saw Moulin Rouge as well, and we wouldve seen a show, if it wasnt hella expensive. And I mean why pay 150 euro for a Burlesque show when down the street you can go into a little booth and get your own private little show for like 20 euro. I mean, a little less class and a little more herpes, but you win some you lose some.
We went to Chez Papa for dinner again, because we didnt know anywhere else, and we were too scared to be in the red light district at night hahaha
Shortly after dinner we started getting ready for out night life adventures.
Now by this time somethings had happened here and there that hadnt put me in the greatest of moods. but I shrugged it off and played nice.
We were invited to this underground club at a friend of a friends place. No cover, cheap beer, and everyone's happy right? ha. It was actually pretty rad. It was in an abandoned train station, and there were a bunch of french punks and hipsters everywhere. I can have a good time anywhere, so I was content with chillin there, talking, getting to know people, etc.
Tragically, it was smokers paradise in there, and I was getting the black lung, and the bday girl wasnt exactly feelin it. So we said our goodbyes and went on our merry way back to Charlotte Bar, only this time some more things had happened that had kind of peeved me a little more, and it was getting harder and harder to shrug it off. But again, I played nice.
It wasnt nearly as bumpin as the first time we went, and this time around, it was like highschool night because there was a slew of shit faced little girls everywhere. And it was then that I realized that because of girls like that, dancing on the tables, and falling off them, there is a drinking age in the US. So to avoid feeling like pedophiles, we decided to go to a huge dance club. The strobe light, fog machine, E poppin kind of club. And generally I wouldve been ecstatic to being going to such a huge club, especially one with no cover for girls, but more things had gone down, and it was now around 12:30am, so I was too tired to just shrug it off. So the team split up. Because I was a hop skip and a jump away from being Satan.
But that didnt stop me from dancing like it was my business until 3 in the morning. It did however stopped me from breathing out of my nostrils because the french dont believe in showers apparently? Idk, but it was smelling like something rank in that place. Luckily I was high off of dancing, or else I might have died.
Now it is three am and it's time to go home, and like I said, somethings have gone down that have me a little more fierce than festive, everyone is exhausted, we cant get a cab, and bday girl is not in a good mood anymore. So we start walking back to where we think our hostel is. And all hope is lost, until, while waiting at a crosswalk, a man comes up to me and asks me where I'm from. Now, I dont talk to strangers generally, but I look over and the very drunk woman he had come out of a restaurant with was smoking with Erika, so I responded that I was from the states and he said me too and proceeded to brag about how much money he and his wife had just spent on this fabulous bagillion course meal. So, to politely get him to stfu, I said "oh man you have to stop talking like that, I'm starving". He looks at me and says "oh, well then come on we're all getting pizza" and proceeds to make the fancy ass restaurant open up and let all 6 of us inside to eat. Normally I would never accept such an offer, but I was pissed, hungry, tired cold, and hungry (oh I said it twice? I meant to). This man bought all six of us Pizza, and the biggest beers ever. Which I poured into his drunk wife's mug while no one was watching, so that she could get even more hammered, and I wouldnt look rude. He also paid, and then went over to his hotel at 5am and called us a cab. I couldnt make this up if I tried. This guy was ridiculous, but hilarious, and probably more so because we were all deliriously tired. He told me that if it wasnt for my cute knee high socks he wouldve never talked to us. How nice? hahaha
It was kind of like duex es machina, because if it hadnt been for this divine intervention, the night probably wouldve ended shitty.

Fast forward to 5 hours later to me running around like a crazy person trying to get pictures of the Eiffel Tower before we left. Luckily John was down to go with me, because the bitties definitely werent. AND I got to get a Venti Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks, which was a huge mood changer because coffee in Italy is served in a thimble.
The rest of the day consisted of shopping for me and John, and then taking a metro to get to the bus to get to to the plane to get to the bus to get to the taxi that finally brought us to Rome.

It has taken me almost 4 days to write this out, so if my thoughts seem a little more spastic than usual, that's why. Paris was amazing, but I am definitely suffering the consequences of too much travel and not enough sleep. I'm almost back to normal, but as I finish this up it's coming up on 2am, so I'll probably mess up my sleep pattern again. If I ever even had one. C'est la vie. Right?

I'M IN LOVE!!!!!

With Rome of course. hahaha Gotcha.

Love. It's probably the strangest thing the human race deals with. It makes some people so uncomfortable! Some people literally cant stomach the idea of love. Just the word freaks people out. They can only show love to "things" you know like, "I love my car", "I love my iPod", but never "I love you". Because it's far to vulnerable. Too real. Too raw. Love is love. Once you say it you're established a level in your relationship, and some people just cant handle it.
I love love. I really do. I love everyone. Some people tell me that if I love everyone it isnt real or special. But dont be fooled. If I tell you I love you, I mean it. And I have a heart that has room for everyone. Love doesnt have a limit. It's not like you say it 10 times in your life and on your 11th time you get an electric shock that doesnt let you say it. My family and friends make fun of me all the time because I say I love you like a hundred times before I hang up the phone. But I mean, what if that's our last phone call, ever, and I didnt tell you I love you. How horrible. I mean God willing that doesnt happen any time soon, but gotta  cover  your bases.
Dont be fooled again though. I love you, and I'm IN love with you, are as different as night and day. Black and white. Peace and war. Cats and Dogs! Seriously, they have nothing in common except the word love is in the sentence. And thats where I get tripped up. Because I love to love people. And I love to make people feel special. But it can make people think things that arent so. Because everyone else is so scared of the big "L", that when someone says it, it is a HUGE deal. And theyre reading it wrong. Which makes me sad. I would love to just tell everyone that I love how much I love them all the time. But not everyone is as sappy as I am, and not everyone responds well.
It's tragic that we've become so scared of something so good, because for the most part most of us have no qualms saying "I hate you" and other mean things. But thats because it's so much easier to be mean. To put up a wall. To shut people out. That to put yourself out there. To be real. Because if they dont like you for who you are, you'll fall apart.
Dont do that. Be real. Be raw. Love freely. Love often. Love everyone. It's the only way to be. Not everyone will deserve it, and you'll know them when they come. But for those who do, share the love. You're life will be better. I promise.

Ps I'm going to Paris in a few hours.

It's never goodbye, it's see you later...

Said my farewells via phone today to some very special people in my life. I bet you're confused because I left at the end of January, but they're off to boot camp, then will be stationed in Hawaii before I even make it back to the US. So it was a pretty sappy, snot filled, tear jerking phone call. Luckily no one was home so no one had to see me lookin a mess. Or worse... Showing weakness. Ew.

So one of my previous posts I mentioned that I was going to watch the Super Bowl and an Irish Pub. Well we did, and it was so much fun! Here's the thing though, it was like we were going to a speak easy during the prohibition era... How so you ask? I'll tell you. There were several entrances to this place (called Abbey Theater) but only one door was open, and they were only letting chunks of people in at a time. With this big burly italian man in charge of keeping everyone in order. But I mean, that doesnt really sound like anything out of the ordinary right? It wasnt, until we got inside and saw the capital letter signs everywhere that told us we couldnt cheer, clap, shout, basically be rowdy in any sense of the word. And you're thinking to yourself, "Arent you in a pub? And Irish pub to be exact?" And I was thinking the same thing. I was always under the impression that pubs were the place to get rowdy for sports. Every time Green Bay scored and we would clap and man would come over and say "SHHHHHHH" and no one argued because this man looked like he would not hesitate to pistol whip you.
So after a half time show that was only salvaged by the appearance of Usher, we decided that Green Bay had it in the bag (which they did) and we were going to go home.
Except all the doors were shut down with a metal door (like the kid you have for a garage) and we were like ummmm whats going on...
Turns out this pub wasnt allowed to be open past one, but they decided to be rebels and stay open til five. Which is why we couldnt make any noise.
So we found the bald burly man, and he opened one of the doors and made sure that there was no one coming and let us out. But quickly shut the door behind us. haha
It was actually pretty funny. I mean, an incredible fire hazard, but funny.

Needless to say the next day we were all exhausted because we all got 5 or less hours of sleep. And I mean generally I can handle my "sleep is for the weak" mentality, as long as I am properly fed. BUT on the occasions when I am both over tired, AND hungry...well bad things happen.
I have an alter ego. She isnt a good person. I hide her as well as I can. And she can be tamed with cookies and a nap, but I need real sleep and real food to put her away. It's rather unfortunate really.
Luckily someone thinks I'm special, and decided they were going to take it upon themselves to make me happy, and bought me Sunflowers. Which is my favorite flower. You really cant be in an evil mood when someone buys you flowers. Unless you're actually evil. Or they're being put on your casket. That would be a bummer.

After I tamed the beast I met up with some of the girls in my Film and Mafia class to watch Scarface (the original, we watch the newer one soon). It wasnt the greatest movie I've ever seen, but it was fun to hang out with new people and watch a cinematic classic.
I really like that class. I think I might be the only one though. I'm convinced my teacher is actually in the Mafia. She has like a little spark behind her eye every time she talks about the Mafia. Like I feel like she feels so free to talk about something so secret because she's a part of it, and what a better disguise than to teach about it?! Brilliant! No one would suspect it. Except for me. Because I'm brilliant. Obviously.
Ha, but more so then that, she has just such an interesting manner of speaking and relaying information. She's also kind of a hot mess. But a very Vogue kind of hot mess. One of those women who isnt put together at all, but by not being put together, she manages to look chic? I hate those girls. So lucky. When I dont look put together, I look fugly. No one likes that. She is also like a lot of women in Rome, with very dark eyes, dark hair, dark clothes, and dark mouthes, stained from too many bottles of red wine and copious cartons of cigarettes.
Idk, I like people, so I study them. Makes me sound like a creep. But I do.

In other news, I had to walk to school today. Which is a 45 minute walk. And I mean, I eat a chocolate filled pastry everyday before school, that is the size of my head, so I can use a little extra cardio. But I didnt know how to walk to school...So that took a little bit of map reading. More like map guessing. Kind of hoping that we were looking at the right streets and what not. Luckily we were. The only mishap that we had was we happened to not notice the freshly painted street lines and stepped all up in it. Slipping (but not falling) and leaving little white foot prints everywhere. Oops.
But why did I have to make this walk you ask? Hmmm well no big deal, just a woman decided to kill herself this morning by jumping in front of the metro. And because the metro only runs two ways (annoying, yet so simple) it shuts down. Tragically, turns out this happens a lot here. I would never wanna take myself out that way. So messy. I'm all about clean. Even in death. And look at the inconvenience she caused! hahaha I am fully aware that I am going to hell for things like this, it's ok though, I like it hot.
We wouldve just taken a bus, but there were literally so many people jumping onto the bus that the police had to come regulate it, and the doors werent closing. So people were just smooshed together. I was willing to be late, over having a million strangers grab on me. I'm all set thanks.
There was also some sort of political demonstration near school and SWAT was just chillin there. Idk what was todays deal, but everyone was getting buck wild apparently.

I'm going to go see Much Ado About Nothing tonight! Which is exciting because I love Shakespeare and I love theater. I miss The Guild a lot. I miss being in a play. It's funny, whenever I'm not home the only time I feel totally fulfilled by life is when I'm in a play, doing what I love most. And when I'm not in one, there is this artistic void that I cant seem to fill with anything else.
But when I'm in Rome, I'm always full. My soul is always full. Idc if that sounds corny. Because it's so true.

I've been surviving off of toast and spreadable cheese because I REFUSE to spend money before going to Paris, and toast and cheese is all I have left of my groceries. We leave thursday at around 5 am, which will be rough because I will probably stay up and watch the Carolina Duke game. Because it's a BIG DEAL. In case you werent aware the Chapel Hill and Duke rivalry is the second largest competitive sport rivalry, second to, who else but the Yankees and the Redsox. So ya, shit gets real.

The only thing we have planned for Paris thus far is The Louvre and the Eiffel Tower, but I mean, come on! Those are both such big deals! I'm too excited. I might be getting a little too excited just because I downed two cups of coffee while writing this. Eh, all well.

Domestic goddess...?

I'm thinking not.

I've spent the majoring out my day cleaning. I swept the whole house, did the laundry, did the dishes, and took out all the trash. No biggie. I like cleaning. Because I dont like living in my own filth. Shocking huh?
But then I tried to make myself a meal... And well maybe I should stick to cleaning.

It just had no flavor. I have come to realize that I dont know how to cook with out Goya products. This is the longest I've gone in my whole life with out eating beans, or something with Sazon. My body doesnt know what to do with itself. I would probably cut a bitch for a burrito right about now.

Feel free to make all the Mexican jokes you want. I dont care. Because at the end of the day, my mom cooks better than everyone you know. And our rice doesnt come from a little 1 minute package. So hop off.

I need to read some cooking blogs and talk to some locals, because I will wither away eating apples and toast for the next four months.

I whip my hair back and forth

That song has been stuck in my head all day. It is actually kind of a problem. Because it makes me want to in fact, whip mah hair back and forth. And I'm not trying to do that in public. Well not a lot anyways. Give myself shaken baby syndrome. That doesnt even make sense because I'm not a baby haha

Whoo anyways...
yesterday the weather was absolutely amazing, like beyond all comprehension. I came to Rome during one of the worst winters in New England. Lucky me.
Because the weather was so nice Krista, Erika, and I decided to take advantage and go on a walking tour that one of our travel books recommended. Which is basically like a scavenger hunt, you go to certain sites and places and get to see places in Rome that arent usually know to the public. It was actually a lot of fun. We used a map and DIDNT get lost. One small step for us, one giant step for woman kind. Holla holla.
We only got half way done because it was a really long tour and we were running out of sunlight. But we took pictures of every place that we found along the way. I'd post the pictures here, but that seems redundant because if you're reading this you're probably my facebook friend. And if you arent well...Idk how you're reading this...or why? Weirdo...haha
On our little adventure, a lot of things got me thinking. For example: On our first big stop, the Pantheon, I once again saw the tomb of Raphael. And it's still powerful because he was so respected by his peers. But the man was a whore. And died of syphilis. Or so it's suspected. Now his whorish ways dont take away from all of his accomplishments, but that's because he's a man. Women who did that got stoned (not the good way) and I feel as though that double standard is still so present. And I'm not advocating for women everywhere to be sluts. I'm saying either men and women should both respect themselves more and have stronger morals and not such loose legs (and other things) or men and women should both be reprimanded for living that kind of life style. But that will never happen. And that's because women are out to destroy one another. We're all so catty and judgmental. One more reason why being a guy seems so much better.
But another thing that bothered me while I thought about all this was Raphael's wifey. She is buried there too. But the stories say that she died of a broken heart. I despise that shit. A woman OBVIOUSLY has to die from sadness, because she is too weak to handle grief. Except men never die of grief. Or a broken heart. And here's what I have to say about that: I have met so many pussies claiming to be men it's astonishing. And I think all of them are fully capable of dying of a broken heart. If I died and someone wrote up that I died of a broken heart, I'd come back from the dead and puke on them. What a lame way to go.
Why the pantheon got me going on this feminist train of thought is beyond me, but it does make you wonder.
There were also churches all over the tour that we would go inside and see. Each one greater than the next. And as I would look and marvel at the precise detail put into everything I said "Wow, this was all done for God. This is true devotion." And Krista looked at me and said "Ya but people died doing this, it was done in an evil way." And she's right. They had slaves do this. They stole things. Destroyed things to take the materials. They had such pure intentions and went about it the wrong way. But hey, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, right?
In one of the churches they were playing a hymn through the speakers (high tech) and I thought it was the Harry Potter theme song....I would be lying if I told you I wasnt excited and then slightly disappointed when I found out it wasnt hahaha I get cooler everyday I swear.
The only gothic church in Rome is exactly what you think it will be; The creepiest place of all time. It was dark and ominous and had skulls and tombs everywhere. It was the polar opposite of other churches because the others were gold and flashy, this one was dark and somber. It didnt make you want to pray it made you want to cry. I dont know if that's the reaction they were going for, but I certainly wasnt comfortable in there.
The last stop on our tour brought us face to face with a street performer who tried to touch me and take my cell phone. Now this isnt my iphone, it's some piece of crap cell phone that cost me 19 euro, so the phone wasnt the issue. The issue was the touching. I hate when people I dont know touch me. That's how you get shanked homeboy. Dont go to Springfield just grabbin on people, it will be your last performance. Also, he was a clown. I hate clowns. They're horrifying. When is the last time you trusted a grown man who wears more make up than Joan Rivers? Never, is the answer to that.


But aside from all that jazz, yesterday was also a big day because we officially booked our spring break! Yup, we are going (we being Erika, Krista, and I) are going to London, Dublin, and Scotland! We are now in the works of planning what we want to see so that we can squeeze the most out of our days there. The day before we leave we go to Pompei, so it's going to be quite the week. Needless to say I wont be sleeping much. But sleep in for the weak, and I can do it plenty when I'm dead.

I leave for Paris Thursday at 7am! I've wanted to go to Paris my whole life. I want to wear stripes and eat cheese (when do I not want to do that?) and do all the stereotypical French things. I hope it's as much fun as I am making it out to be. But I mean, everything is what you make it. Everything.

Yesterday was a big day of revelations for me. At one point last semester I was having major issues with a friend of mine because he told me that he didnt believe that you should always say what you're thinking. And I have issues with that because I have no brain to mouth filter. "I think I think I got to say it" and it's how I've always lived my life. It was really frustrating for me knowing that this person was thinking things and not saying them because there were things I really wanted, maybe even needed, to hear. But I never did. So I eventually stopped saying what I had to say and just kind of let everything fester inside, and it ate away at me. Bummer. But now, NOW I get it. I've been dealing with a lot of new people, and you truly cant just say whatever pops into your head. It's getting a lot of people in trouble. Making people like them less. Because they're ill timed, or out of line. Or stupid. Think before you speak, and maybe you wont mess things up for yourself. Or others. I still believe that you should tell people how you feel, but all in due time. This is why I love people. For better or for worse, they all teach you a little something about yourself and the world. And it's always good to be in the know.

As for him, I'll never have to tell him what I was thinking. He's pretty smart. And I'm pretty terrible at hiding emotions. Heart on my sleeve kind of broad.

Enough of my introspective philosophical babble, on to the rest of the day!

Last night was another failed attempt at trying to go to a dance club hahah we are SO BAD at this, but we have fun.
We went to a bar called Scholars, to watch the rugby game. And when we got there it was like Ireland had thrown up everywhere. Every place you turned there was an Irish jersey, or wig, or fake beard, or flag, or green face paint. It was packed! Like sardines in a can. You had to scuffle everywhere and squeeze past the numerous amounts of sweaty dudes, pumped up on male-bonding induced testosterone and copious amounts of alcohol. I personally was ready to set up camp and have a blast people watching all the belligerence. But my posse wasnt feelin it, so we peaced out. But not before a very drunk Irish man grabbed me by the arm, looked me in the eyes, and said "BELLA BELLA BELLA I'M SORRY I DONT SPEAK ITALIAN" All caps because he was yelling. I smiled and said "ciao", because I was flattered that he thought I was Italian.
Next stop? The most magical place on earth! No, not Disney, Sloppy Sams! haha The name in that of itself should give you an idea of how classy this place is. But despite the fact that there is nothing for me to do there except sit and watch people drink, I have a little soft spot for it, because it's the first place we went to as a group. So I dont hate it.
Too bad it was creeper city up in that bitch. But what else is new? I'm a creeper magnet. It's a gift really.
We went there to watch the NC state Duke game, but it wasnt on, (we're going for NC state btw, Duke is the devil) but they didnt end up playing that game, so we went to go get pizza.

It seemed like it was going to be a pretty chill night, until we decided to just hop on a tram and hope it brought us home. Good game plan. JK LOLZ. We ended up riding this bad boy all the way to almost the outside of the city, and getting dropped off at the terminal because it was done running for the night.
So here we are, just chillin. No idea where we are, or how far we are from home, it's around 2am, some of us are a little more coherent than others... and we're basically screwed.
So after some VERY public urination (not by me, obv), some wrong turns, and a lot of laughs, we chase down this cab (that I spotted, get at me), taught the cab driver how to say "little whore" in english (again, not me, and its a long story..) we got home safe and sound.

Today consists of Homework, laundry, cleaning, and more cleaning (my OCD might be getting more intense) because tonight, tonight! Is a big night! SUPER BOWL SUNDAY!!!!! Whooooooo! It's actually Super Bowl Monday for us because it starts at 12:30am here, but that's neither here nor there. I love football. I really do. It makes me think of my Dad and Bro, and all of the games I've been to just to cheer for Charlie, at the top of my lungs.
We're going to an Irish Pub and we're going to get wings, and I'm going to pound back the redbull (I know, you cant handle me). I usually try and refrain from the stereotypical American behavior that gives us a bad rep in this country, but tonight, we're gettin buck wild. I'm going to eat wings, and cheer, and beat on my chest (ok maybe not that) and be proud of football. The one with two O's.
Tomorrow mornings 9 am class will be rough, and none of us are going to look particularly attractive, but if we actually cared, we wouldnt go.

Life here never ceases to amaze me. Everything you do is fun. But I think half of it is attitude. I've always tried to have that attitude, but it's heightened here. And I really want to bring that attitude back with me to the states. Because life is really too short to be anything, but happy.