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.
No comments:
Post a Comment