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.