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.

Haters they gon hate.

This title isnt to anyone person in particular. But it's true. Misery loves company. And if you let every hater get you down, you wont ever be happy. So my personal philosophy is this "Be true to you, do you, and be happy." Everything else will come easy if you can do that. It does for me anyways.

Now back to the entry at hand, ahem.

So, Ice Bar.... Was a shit show hahaha not in the sense that it sucked but in the sense that everyone got shitty. And it worked for them because it helped people stay warm. I, on the other hand, was stone cold sober. And I mean stone cold. I was a little ice cube. Even though they gave us protective gear. But it was so cool (no pun intended) that I sucked  it up. It was a basically like having a party in an igloo, because the inside is really tiny. Everything is ice. Everything. So the floors were super slippery. Heads up if you ever go: Slippery icy floor + Heels + Drunk girls= excellent show. We rolled in deep with a big posse, and the place was so small that we were running things. Which was pretty cool. It was my first time hanging out with a lot of the other girls from my school, and they were actually really nice. I think we should try and hang out more often, even though big groups are such a hassle, it's always worth it in the end. More fun I think.

Some people didnt handle their liquor as well as originally intended and they had to be taken home. Which is where my mommy instincts kicked in and I started taking care of everyone. For someone who doesnt like kids, I have a really strong maternal instinct to take care of people. I have no idea why. I guess it comes from 20 years of always being sober, you just kind of expect to take care of people. And I dont mind it. I just worry that people mind me, like I dont want anyone to feel like I'm being condescending when I only have their best interest at heart, you know?

I got an email this morning from my Dad that told me that my grandma had received a phone call from a police officer telling her that my brother had been arrested for narcotics possession and intent to sell.
Now if you know me, and my brother, you know that by the time I read this line I was crying and getting ready to pack my shit and head home. I was in a state of complete confusion and sadness all at one time.
I read on. It proceeded to tell me that he was being held at $5,000 bail.
In Canada.
Ummmm hmmm, ok well it's a school day, how did brochacho get to Canada?
I continue to read to find out that this is one of those scams on Dateline where someone tells you that they have your child and you need to pay a ransom asap or your child dies.
Luckily, my Dad is smart and didnt panic (because he never does) and figured it all out.
He apparently proceeded to mess with this guy and say ridiculous things to him (some very crude) while contacting the police. Who ever did this is lucky my Dad cant find them, he doesnt take kindly to people who try and mess with his family.
Needless to say, everything is ok, but I did have a mild (or more than mild) panic attack.

I just realized everyone in my house is asleep but me.... that Ice Bar really got to them haha

Anyways, today I went on the tour of the Vatican and St. Peters Church. Oh no big deal I know.
I probably looked like such a dork because I had my glasses on, my camera out, a pen in my hair, my notebook in my back pocket, and my headset where I was listening to the tour guide. I took pictures of everything. Everything. And then I would write down what he would say about particular things so that I could match up pictures and facts. Because I dont just want 200 pictures of things I dont know anything about. That seems like a waste of hard drive space.
I've been to both of those locations before. But it was different coming back as a more mature person. Which sounds totally corny, but I've grown a lot from Sophomore year (thank God, huh?) and I saw things with a different perspective this time around. I was more intent on learning, not just looking at everything.
It was a super long tour. But that's because they take you through every room of the Vatican (that is accessible) so you can see all the art work and learn what everything was for. Because everything had a purpose.
It's all so ornate. Detail oriented in every aspect. You cant help but be in awe when you go. Regardless of your religious beliefs. I suggest everyone go. Unless you dont like beauty or culture. In which case, continue to read this from the McDonalds with WiFi.
The Sistine Chapel. Wow. Just wow. It's almost all you can say about it when you realize that it is almost 800 sq ft wide, and was painted in four years by Michael Angelo, by candle light. Makes you feel kind of lame huh? haha Every time I think of Michael Angelo or Da Vinci, it makes me want to do something greater with my life. Be something greater. They are OG's if you ask me.
La Pieta is inside St. Peters Church, which is the biggest church in the world. Every part of that church is decked out. You can say a lot about the Catholics, but you certainly cant say they dont have style and flair. Now La Pieta is a sculpture of Mary holding the dead Jesus in her arms. It's been my favorite piece of art since I learned about it from Mr. Garnes in my freshman year world history class. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect. The stone has no flaw, and the emotion is so clear. You can see the holes in Jesus's hands and feet, and the sorrow in Mary's eyes. It will give you goose bumps.
But apparently someone couldnt handle their goosebumps because in 1972 a man took a hammer to her nose and arm. Now the statue is protected behind glass, and she's been reconstructed.
Stupid people should stop breeding more stupid people, they're a waste of space.

Now in a previous entry I mentioned that italians love being lovey dovey in public, and that I thought that was admirable. Welp, I also mentioned that there is a time and place. So to the couple getting hot in heavy inside St. Peters, you need to calm down, there are a lot of dead Popes chillin around you, and possibly a living one. Not the time. It's a church...creeps.

You can get married in St. Peters. If I ever get married, I'm thinking hell yes to having my ceremony there! Not too sure how well that works with me being Mormon...probably not too well. haha Cross that bridge when we get to it I guess.

It's a friday night and I have no idea what I'm doing. Everyone is asleep. I could sleep right now, but that seems like such a waste of time. Which is why I will die first of all my friends because I substitute redbull for sleep. Eh, all well, I've had a good run.

Instead of sleeping I think I'm going to try and pick up on some French words and sayings on like YouTube or something, because I'll be there next weekend. No big deal.

Happy 21st Birthday Alex!

My sleep pattern is all messed up. I was so tired yesterday that I fell asleep watching Space Jam. SPACE JAM! The greatest movie of all time! I am a little ashamed of myself. I'm sorry Michael. I let you down. Luckily I spent all of 1996 pretending I was Lola bunny and watched that movie religiously. So I guess I've paid my dues.

I'm really behind on my blog because we literally have the worst internet of all time. And I have zero patience. Every time it takes more than three seconds to load a page I bug out and just turn it off.

This is why I didnt use the internet until the dial up era was over. Who has time to just fricken sit around and wait for things. Not I said the cat.

I am in my classes now. They're actually pretty cool. I have a class called film and mafia, and we have to watch The Godfather and Scarface as homework. Oh the torture, please dont make me watch cinematic gangster classics. haha 

Art history will be hard, and my teacher just learned english, like I wanna say, yesterday. So listening to her figure out what to say is a little annoying, but I'm in her country, so I have to be patient. Also, art history is reputable, and what better place to learn about art history right?

Italian is italian. Gotta learn it. 

Then there is Spectator Film, which is going to be fun because we go into the psychology of movies, which seems interesting. But if homegirl from art history doesnt know english, then brocacho over here in spectator film knows even less. But he's young and fun and lets us out early, so I will deal with the language barrier.

Then, there is art therapy. Sounds cool right? Dont be fooled! Bitches be trippin. And I mean that literally. My teacher seems like one of those radical women in the 60's who took far too many acid tablets. And now she is a few fries short of a happy meal. She is this 5 foot stout little feminist who is from Brooklyn. And though she has lived in Rome for 20 years, her accent is still thick as ever. Who knows what her italian sounds like...She is one of those people who claims that they dont like to talk, but then cant shut up. She literally would let you say your name and then go off on these tangents about herself, her failed marriage, how women are so mysterious (which is why men hate them), how women are seen as snakes and witches (which is why men hate them), how women cant look too sexy (which is why men hate them), do you see a trend here? Bitch. Is. Crazy. She had us all draw with our eyes closed, she told us we couldnt make straight lines because straight lines block your vision, and she's a visionary. Bullshit on top of more bullshit. After we all colored like we were in preschool, she made us all hold up our drawings while she interpreted what was amongst all of our swirls and doodles. 

She saw a face in almost all of them. Except for mine. Because she knew I wasnt feelin it. She told me that I like order too much, that I dont want to make a mess and "float". No shit Sherlock, I'm dressed nicely, I dont need oil pastels all over my clothes. Further more, I'm not 4, if I want to sit around and smear shit on recycled paper, I'll go home and do it in my crappy clothes. But I bet she felt really enlightened making that psychoanalysis of me. Which is sad because, well, it was obvious. 

I probably wouldnt have judged her so harshly if she had made any kind of statement throughout the 3 and a half hour class (ya, fml) that validated her as a psychiatrist. But she kept saying bs. At one point she went on this rant about how autism isnt worth studying. Because they arent "fun". Excuse me? Then this girl in class told her that she wanted to work with autistic children and she made this face and was like "Why? You'll see some day that you're wasting your time. Deaf kids are more fun." I almost puked all over a canvas and told her it was what she looked like. I was foaming at the mouth. She is supposed to be an intellectual. I dont know how she got a job, but if it's that easy to be a shrink, I'll do it twice over. Stupid people are taking up all the good air. 

Sorry for that rant. But it had to happen.

I've been completely focused on school and such that we havent really done much else this week. But tomorrow we're going inside the Vatican and into the Sistine Chapel. Which is probably the most amazing this you'll ever see. We have to do a roommate agreement today. And only two roommates dont agree on things. So I'm just going to sit here and smile and let them duke it out. Because I'm trying to stay drama free. Thanks.

Tonight! Tonight, will be a good night. Today is Alex's birthday. His big 2-1! Which seems tragically anticlimactic considering he is already of age to drink here. But we are about to party like Rock Stars at Ice Bar. Just the name sounds sexy huh? Let me elaborate. It's a bar made ENTIRELY of ice! You walk in and they give you these fancy coats and gloves so that you dont get hypothermia. I'm impressed. But I'm easily impressed. My friend bought be a chocolate egg that has a toy inside, and that impressed me too. I'm serious though, it was a little 8 eyed kitty cat toy, and I was thrilled. Because I'm five? Idk. 

Apparently it's snowing like whoa at home. I'm even happier to be here now, because I hate the snow. A lot. 

I got a little crazy the other night and went for an adventure by myself through the neighborhood and found a dollar store! Or a euro store, one might say. It was at night too, so that was an extra ballsy move on my part. But I dressed as badass as  I could, had my stank face on, and basically walked around with my "dont fuck with me" face on. And it worked. No one harassed me or tried to sell me things on the street. I dont actually think it had anything to do with my appearance though, because I am still 5'4 and not tough. But  I can dream. On the inside, I am a gangsta. The littlest gangsta. 

I am going to Paris next weekend! hazza! I'm staying in a hostel, not alone, but it's my first hostel experience. Lets hope its not like the movies, huh? I'm going to weekend before Valentines Day. How lovey dovey. I hope the French dont live up to their douche bag reputations, because I will fight a frenchie (Jk, not trying to get deported). 

I feel as though I have been here for months. But it's only been 11 days. A lot happens in 11 days though. Things just kind of "click" I guess. 

I still love everyone I'm with. I havent really gotten to know anyone outside of my little click, but I'm not too worried about it. I like what I got. And I'm sure things will develop organically. 

I love Rome. I miss my family though. I wish we were rich so that my parents could send me Charlie for his spring break. I'd be the happiest camper of all time. And Max. Let's not forget Max. 

I still have zero clue how to cook or grocery shop...I'm working on it. Baby steps...

Other then that, life has been low key. Low key and awesome. This is the least stressed I've ever been in my entire life. It makes me feel like a different person. I feel lighter some how. And it makes me happy. Really really happy. Stress is evil. And I'm so very ok living without it. 

Classes started

And I am not a fan of sitting in a room for two and a half hours. I have the attention span of a gold fish, how am I going to pull this off?

Im typing in my computer lab at school because the internet in our apartment is more bipolar than a menstrating teenager. So we never know if we will have it or not. So I am also typing like an idiot because the european keyboards are different from the ones at home, so this is fun.

I have two classes on tuesdays, back to back. Im going to need to bring a cooler of food with me becuase I get hungry every five minutes. And I dont want to have to sacrifice one of my classmates, because there are only 10 of us anyways. But also because cannibalism isnt cute. Or so Ive been told.
Wednesdays will be worse though. Three in one day starting at nine. I will probably lose some friends on those days because my level of cranky is going to blow through the roof due to lack of nutrition. I need to buy some granola bars, so that I can keep that side hidden for as long as possible.