Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Dear Future Husband...
may we please have a summer home in Switzerland, or at least do our wedding registry from Cachet (my favorite store ever, even after all of these years) ? Please, oh please? If not, I shall burn your toast every third Tuesday for the rest of your life. ;)
What do you mean this isn't Venice?
I somehow missed Venice, but loved wherever in the heck I was anyway. I'll maybe say more about it later.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Lost in Little Pompeii and A Roman Sabbath
On Saturday we drove to Ostia, which is known as Little Pompeii. It was an artist's dream. Absolutely gorgeous. Expansive, too. As is my wont, I soon became seperated from the group. I searched for them for about an hour and then just gave up. I then opted to cut them off at the pass by going to the entrance by the car. My plan worked eventually, as evidenced by the fact that at this moment I am on a computer, not sleeping under a bridge and eating a pigeon I bludgeoned with a rock. When we got back to the apartment by body revolted and put me back on MST by falling asleep for nearly 5 hours for no apparent reason. Stupid body. Now I'm all screwed up again just when I was getting settled.
Today (Sunday) we attended church at one of Rome's only two wards. It was neat to hear everything in Italian. It was a tragedy of small proportions that Anziano Parry got transferred out of Rome, though, as he almost certainly would have been at this ward otherwise and I could have greeted him. Meh, oh well.
I move to Venice tomorrow. Wish me luck, as my stupid train arrives at the wrong station and I have to hike across town to find my hostel. I'm printing directions and hoping that Death isn't calling my number. If he does, just know that I love you all and my journal is only to be read by those who will find it amusing, and even then only after I have been confirmed dead for 90 days. Public readings can only take place after I have been stone-cold dead for 120 days.
Today (Sunday) we attended church at one of Rome's only two wards. It was neat to hear everything in Italian. It was a tragedy of small proportions that Anziano Parry got transferred out of Rome, though, as he almost certainly would have been at this ward otherwise and I could have greeted him. Meh, oh well.
I move to Venice tomorrow. Wish me luck, as my stupid train arrives at the wrong station and I have to hike across town to find my hostel. I'm printing directions and hoping that Death isn't calling my number. If he does, just know that I love you all and my journal is only to be read by those who will find it amusing, and even then only after I have been confirmed dead for 90 days. Public readings can only take place after I have been stone-cold dead for 120 days.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Scottish Footballers and Shade Spot Hopping
Yesterday we went to the Colosseum, Palatine Hill and the Roman Forum. All day. As we stood in line we talked with Kenny and Gemma from Scotland- they were pretty great, and very entertaining to talk to. There was more to see than I think I'd realized. Everything was very pretty indeed. The day was exceedingly hot and dirty- I got so covered in dirt and dust that I had to wash at the outdoor shower at the complex pool before going into the apartment.
I lack the time and concentration to have this post be clever, so I'm going to end it before it can ramble.
One note: Dear Mom, my cell phone number is 0 175 121 6918, though I'm not sure you can reach me on it. It's worth a shot if someone has an international calling plan, though. I'll try to carry it more often. Try. (Not necessarily succeed.)
I lack the time and concentration to have this post be clever, so I'm going to end it before it can ramble.
One note: Dear Mom, my cell phone number is 0 175 121 6918, though I'm not sure you can reach me on it. It's worth a shot if someone has an international calling plan, though. I'll try to carry it more often. Try. (Not necessarily succeed.)
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Man Can Fly and Italian Babies Have Curly Locks
Well, I must remain brief for now, as I do not own rights to this computer, but I will try to summarize everything as succinctly as possible.
June 21: The flights went well. I managed to catch all of them and didn't have hardly any time to get bored in the terminals. I saw many things, some of which include: An old man in a business suit doing ridiculous yoga stretches on the airport floor, a woman with toilet paper stuck to her shoe, a girl wearing a snuggie, an enraged Italian grandpa in a wheelchair shouting and berating his attendant in the most Italian fashion imaginable, an Italian baby so cute that I got broody right there in the airport, and much more that I wrote down somewhere else. Midway through the flight from Newark to Rome we switched to
June 22: Where a guy across the aisle from me tried to pick me up by starting with "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" That's hot. He tried chatting me up for the next few hours and invited me out to have coffee, but I never gave him more than my first name. He looked like Evan Lysacek and talking to him kept me from clawing my way out of the side of the plane during those last few high-tension hours, though, and for that I am grateful. Crossed fingers that I never run into him in Rome or Venice.
At the airport Freddy, Philipp and Julie Luschin were there to get me and we headed immediately to their house. Once there we went swimming in the apartment complex's pool and then we ate lunch. After that we got on the metro and went into downtown Rome. On this day we saw the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish steps and much more that I can't remember the names for. It was exceedingly hot and it smells of smoke, but I'm growing used to the smell.
After we came home we ate and then swam again and then it was off to bed for the lot of us.
June 23: I woke up at 6:19 a.m. bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I despaired of being able to go back to sleep until 7, the time my alarm was set for. I finally forced myself to and the next thing I knew, it was 11! That's nearly 12 hours that I slept! I couldn't believe it. I felt like a despicable human being for being so lazy.
When the show finally hit the road we headed by metro into town again. This day's agenda included Vatican City and St. Peter's Basilica. There was so so much to see. Sistine Chapel is beautiful, as are the many collections in the Vatican museum. We then wandered a bit more and then came home. After coming out of the train station we stopped briefly at the grocery store. It smelled like the Asian Market in Orem. Kind of gross, not gonna lie, but I bought some wonderful juice there in a funny bottle and a makeshift journal until I can find one that pleases me.
When we got home we ate dinner and then watched "Hector". It's an old German film that's in the "spaghetti western" style, even though it's about knights in the 1500's. I think everyone should see it (with subtitles.) It's pretty hilarious. It taught me how to kiss a man in such a way that he doesn't see it coming and is unprepared to fight you off, even though he may want to. Also, there's a scene where many French knights get run off of a hill and roll to their death with the broken remains of a battle ladder. It reminded me rather strongly of sledding at the Gillespie's house.
Now it is exceedingly late and I must away to bed. I'm still really really homesick, but I wrote a countdown calendar until I'm home and now it's only 63 days. I hope as many people as possible attend Roosevelt YSA 1st ward on August 28th so that I may see them ASAP. (Hint. Hint. Hint.)
P.S. Pope John Paul II holding a koala bear? Cutest. Picture. EVER. My two favorite things combined into one superpower of cuteness.
P.P.S. The Luschin's have a bidet in the bathroom that has been designated for me. I'm still too scared and weirded out to use it, but it's always there, just staring at me. Bidet. Gah.
June 21: The flights went well. I managed to catch all of them and didn't have hardly any time to get bored in the terminals. I saw many things, some of which include: An old man in a business suit doing ridiculous yoga stretches on the airport floor, a woman with toilet paper stuck to her shoe, a girl wearing a snuggie, an enraged Italian grandpa in a wheelchair shouting and berating his attendant in the most Italian fashion imaginable, an Italian baby so cute that I got broody right there in the airport, and much more that I wrote down somewhere else. Midway through the flight from Newark to Rome we switched to
June 22: Where a guy across the aisle from me tried to pick me up by starting with "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" That's hot. He tried chatting me up for the next few hours and invited me out to have coffee, but I never gave him more than my first name. He looked like Evan Lysacek and talking to him kept me from clawing my way out of the side of the plane during those last few high-tension hours, though, and for that I am grateful. Crossed fingers that I never run into him in Rome or Venice.
At the airport Freddy, Philipp and Julie Luschin were there to get me and we headed immediately to their house. Once there we went swimming in the apartment complex's pool and then we ate lunch. After that we got on the metro and went into downtown Rome. On this day we saw the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish steps and much more that I can't remember the names for. It was exceedingly hot and it smells of smoke, but I'm growing used to the smell.
After we came home we ate and then swam again and then it was off to bed for the lot of us.
June 23: I woke up at 6:19 a.m. bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I despaired of being able to go back to sleep until 7, the time my alarm was set for. I finally forced myself to and the next thing I knew, it was 11! That's nearly 12 hours that I slept! I couldn't believe it. I felt like a despicable human being for being so lazy.
When the show finally hit the road we headed by metro into town again. This day's agenda included Vatican City and St. Peter's Basilica. There was so so much to see. Sistine Chapel is beautiful, as are the many collections in the Vatican museum. We then wandered a bit more and then came home. After coming out of the train station we stopped briefly at the grocery store. It smelled like the Asian Market in Orem. Kind of gross, not gonna lie, but I bought some wonderful juice there in a funny bottle and a makeshift journal until I can find one that pleases me.
When we got home we ate dinner and then watched "Hector". It's an old German film that's in the "spaghetti western" style, even though it's about knights in the 1500's. I think everyone should see it (with subtitles.) It's pretty hilarious. It taught me how to kiss a man in such a way that he doesn't see it coming and is unprepared to fight you off, even though he may want to. Also, there's a scene where many French knights get run off of a hill and roll to their death with the broken remains of a battle ladder. It reminded me rather strongly of sledding at the Gillespie's house.
Now it is exceedingly late and I must away to bed. I'm still really really homesick, but I wrote a countdown calendar until I'm home and now it's only 63 days. I hope as many people as possible attend Roosevelt YSA 1st ward on August 28th so that I may see them ASAP. (Hint. Hint. Hint.)
P.S. Pope John Paul II holding a koala bear? Cutest. Picture. EVER. My two favorite things combined into one superpower of cuteness.
P.P.S. The Luschin's have a bidet in the bathroom that has been designated for me. I'm still too scared and weirded out to use it, but it's always there, just staring at me. Bidet. Gah.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
The Third Stage of Traveling Grief: Flipping Out
All train seats and hostels are reserved. I am now going to go hyperventilate because WHAT IF I FREAKIN' GOT THE WRONG THING?!!! I could DIIIIEEEEEE!!!!
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