I have 13 days left of my English adventure. Today Alyssa, Danielle, Yarran (another Aussie), and I had dinner with Marisa to wish her off. She is leaving tomorrow morning to go back home. It has started. The goodbyes were strange. It was like I was wishing her a lovely vacation; don't worry I'll see you soon. But the thing is, I won't be. There is no guarantee in this world that I'll even see her again in my life. That's how it is with everyone that I've met here.
I've been thinking about it and I suppose it's like everything else in this world: you have to work at it to get anything worth while in return. Only I can "guarantee" if I will see these girls ever again. I was serious when I talked about visiting Alyssa in Australia next July. That would be a kick ass grad gift to myself. I'm serious when I say I'd like to go to Canada to see Marisa. I'm serious when I say I'm saving money to spend spring break in Florida with Danielle.
We all don't want to leave, not because England is so superior to our actual homes but because that means that we'll be leaving each other. How do you walk away from a good friend? These last few days have been and will continue to be bittersweet. We are all conscious and excited about going home but at the same time it's something that we talk about in an abstract way. There are moments when we stop and express how much we'll miss each other but mostly I think we're all trying to pretend that we don't live so far from one another and that there isn't a large amount of uncertainty hanging over the idea of seeing each other again.
Listen to Falling Into Reverie
Monday, June 15, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
This is What Procrastination Looks Like
I apologize for the grainy pictures. I don't know why it's showing up like that.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Three Posts in One Day?
Yea, that's right children. Although technically it's no longer June 6 for me so it's a brand new day, which calls for a new post I'd say. I've been slacking off and for that I apologize.
So to make up for my awful tardiness, here is a video of the street performers in Rome that I mentioned in the Italian Adventures: Rome post.
*EDIT* The street performers are called Los Chatos and you can find them at www.loschatos.net
And as a bonus, here's the footage from the Birdcage, that lovely drag show event I went to in Manchester.
So to make up for my awful tardiness, here is a video of the street performers in Rome that I mentioned in the Italian Adventures: Rome post.
*EDIT* The street performers are called Los Chatos and you can find them at www.loschatos.net
And as a bonus, here's the footage from the Birdcage, that lovely drag show event I went to in Manchester.
Sometimes It Feels Like Worry Is My Only Friend
I've been going through an interesting time here the past few days. I have my last exam on Wednesday and I have to write an essay for my Shakespeare class (which drives me slightly crazy because we asked if we had to do one and my professor said no, an answer that changed the moment I finished my exam. The department said I had to do it. Lame). I've been having a few issues with money and all of my friends (Danielle and Alyssa) are away traveling. My lovely Canadian friend Marisa is still here but she needs to study. She's been awesome, encouraging me to study because I need to as well but let's be honest, I'm terrible when it comes to actually doing work.
So today, after studying with Marisa at the library for a while, I came back to my flat and made myself some food. I basically have rice and pasta left. I've been eating pasta like it was going out of style. I had pasta and gravy last night. Yea, pasta and gravy. It's not as bad as it sounds....or maybe it is. Anyway, I'm lonely. That's the long and short of that. I think I'm really ready to go home. I don't know. It's weird. It's like the same feeling I had the few weeks before I left for England. I'm anxious. It's like this is winding down and it's time to start something new again. I'm going home after six months of being gone. I envisioned myself hugging my nieces and my mom earlier today when I was walking down the corridor to my room.
To help procrastinate, I started to put all the souvenirs I got for people together. That prompted the desire to pack them. As in pack them in a suitcase. So I got my small suitcase out and I packed it with stuff that I don't really use anymore: my winter coat, a blanket, and most of my scarves. It's crazy how many scarves I've brought. And yes, I used them all at least once. The best part about the packing though is that the souvenirs that were meant to be packed away weren't. I felt like I might break them.
The point is I spent a small part of my day thinking about packing and fantasizing that I was home. I cried and looked at pictures of my nieces and my family. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to wish my time away here. I don't know the next time I'll be in England, if ever, again. I have said before, something which I know is true because I can just feel it, that things don't seem impossible anymore. I know I can live out here for a length of time and I even talked to Alyssa about moving out here and working at a hostel with her while I go to pastry school. I can say those plans out loud and they don't seem crazy or laughable. Those are actual things I can do.
I am looking forward to being home. The weather here has been better but it's nothing like home. I'm looking forward to shorts and tank tops. I'm looking forward to snuggling my cats. I'm looking forward to spending time with my family.
So today, after studying with Marisa at the library for a while, I came back to my flat and made myself some food. I basically have rice and pasta left. I've been eating pasta like it was going out of style. I had pasta and gravy last night. Yea, pasta and gravy. It's not as bad as it sounds....or maybe it is. Anyway, I'm lonely. That's the long and short of that. I think I'm really ready to go home. I don't know. It's weird. It's like the same feeling I had the few weeks before I left for England. I'm anxious. It's like this is winding down and it's time to start something new again. I'm going home after six months of being gone. I envisioned myself hugging my nieces and my mom earlier today when I was walking down the corridor to my room.
To help procrastinate, I started to put all the souvenirs I got for people together. That prompted the desire to pack them. As in pack them in a suitcase. So I got my small suitcase out and I packed it with stuff that I don't really use anymore: my winter coat, a blanket, and most of my scarves. It's crazy how many scarves I've brought. And yes, I used them all at least once. The best part about the packing though is that the souvenirs that were meant to be packed away weren't. I felt like I might break them.
The point is I spent a small part of my day thinking about packing and fantasizing that I was home. I cried and looked at pictures of my nieces and my family. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to wish my time away here. I don't know the next time I'll be in England, if ever, again. I have said before, something which I know is true because I can just feel it, that things don't seem impossible anymore. I know I can live out here for a length of time and I even talked to Alyssa about moving out here and working at a hostel with her while I go to pastry school. I can say those plans out loud and they don't seem crazy or laughable. Those are actual things I can do.
I am looking forward to being home. The weather here has been better but it's nothing like home. I'm looking forward to shorts and tank tops. I'm looking forward to snuggling my cats. I'm looking forward to spending time with my family.
Italian Adventures: Rome
The last entry of our Italian adventures and I'm sorry to say it but I'm totally going to half ass this thing. Don't worry; the highlights will be presented in easily read bullet points.
~Me and Dave saw a guy get hit by a car. Not a huge, flip in the air, smack!-here's-the-Italian-ambulances type of hit but hit nonetheless. We were walking down a narrow street (the only kind of street in Italy it seems) and this guy was walking pretty much in the middle of the road. A car came down the street. It wasn't barreling or anything like that, it was actually probably going about 9 miles per hour, if I had to guess. Well, the guy failed to move and the car clipped his arm. The car stopped, the driver half stepped out and apologized and then kept going. It was crazy though. I can check seeing a guy get hit by a car off my list of things I've seen in my life.
~There was a moment in Rome where me and Dave witnessed two very different things. I saw a dad (presumably) pushing his baby in a stroller get caught on the curb because he didn't quite get on the slopey part of the sidewalk, which caused the stroller to basically rack him. Dave saw a little Italian baby upon the moment of impact with the curb say "Ai!" This transaction became a regular laugh out loud joke for me and Dave from that moment on. Mostly because the baby said "Ai!" If that baby would have been English speaking, you can bet money that it would have said something different. There would be a difference between an English baby and an American baby even. But there's something about "Ai!" that makes it seem like something a baby wouldn't say. Whatever it is, it was hilarious.
~So me and Dave went to the Colosseum and we spent the better part of an hour there. Probably longer actually. We got there right as it was opening because we didn't want to have to wait in line forever. After we spent time looking at all the awesome ruins, we walked to the park that was near the Colosseum. It was a lovely little park and we took some decent pictures of the Colosseum there. Then we decided to walk to these other ruins that were located on the opposite side. To get there we had to walk through the front of the Colosseum. By that point, there was a slew of people there. As we walked along, a woman came up to us. She asked if we spoke English and if we'd like to go on a tour of the Colosseum, it would only cost one arm and one leg. We declined; we'd just seen it! We got two more offers just like that one in about 10 seconds. After the third one, we decided to pretend that we spoke Spanish only, lying when they asked if we spoke English. We spied another tour giver. As we walked past her she asked "Habla Espanol?" We said no and kept walking. We started to laugh and contemplate the odds of that happening. What are the chances of the next person speaking a language we were pretending to speak?! I then suggested we pretend that we only spoke Swahili because I could remember some I learned in the sixth grade. Dave said no because he couldn't handle the next tour guide asking us if we spoke Swahili.
~The day we went to see the Vatican Museum and St. Peter's Church, me and Dave were very hungry but we couldn't decide what sounded good. We walked through this area called Campo di Fiori (a place we'd walked through a lot while we were in Rome). There are a bunch of food places there (including the BEST pizza ever). We couldn't find anything that we wanted so we walked down this little alleyway. After being prepositioned by a guy trying to get us into his restaurant, a preposition we almost took, we walked by this little shining light. It said "Taqueria." Dave was like "Is that what I think it is?" We walked in and there were little brown Hispanic ladies ready to serve us burritos! We were so excited; it was exactly what we wanted to eat. The ladies behind the counter only spoke Italian and Spanish, two languages me and Dave were mediocre in. It was so weird because I kept trying to think of how to say things in Spanish but because I had been thinking Italian for the past week, it just came out as Italian. So we spoke Spalian- Spanish Italian. Similar to Spanglish. It was crazy.
~The same day we saw the Colosseum, me and Dave walked to this one museum that was near all the ruins. On the way there, there was a guy dressed up as a shepherd. He was supposed to be like those living statues you find in cities. Except he was creepier. He stopped Dave and shook his hand. He then offered his hand to me. Personally I wanted to run away but I knew it would be rude not to shake his hand so I took his hand and shook it. Only when I went to let go, he didn't. He pulled me close and commanded Dave to take a picture. Dave figured it would be faster if he just took the picture, rather than protesting. He snapped a picture of me looking just about as uncomfortable as any one person can get. Then we walked away, me at a slightly quicker pace.
~On our last full day in Rome, me and Dave went to the Piazza del Popolo. It had a huge obelisk and a pretty fountain. While we were taking pictures of the statues, this guy came up with a bunch of roses. I immediately thought this guy would want some money from us; we'd been routinely accosted by street merchants trying to sell us stuff that were essentially piles of crap. He started to talk to Dave-Dave's a very friendly guy-and he tried to give me two roses. I declined at first. What the hell would I do with roses? He was persistent and shoved the roses into my hand, saying "Italian good luck." I took them, thinking he might not want anything for them. We didn't have money to give him and I didn't really want the roses in the first place. He then quietly asks Dave for a "little something" for the roses. Dave said he didn't have anything. I said he could have his Italian good luck back. He kept hinting at money to Dave and Dave kept saying he didn't have any. Defeated, the guy snatched the roses back and walked away. Yes, snatched. I laughed with Dave. We sat on the fountain watching all these guys with roses strike out with every person they tried to "give" them to. We then talked about how these guys seemed to have large stones, if you will, because they essentially demanded money for things people don't even want in the first place.
~The first night we stayed in our hotel in Rome, I had trouble finding the light switch for the bathroom. I looked and looked but I couldn't find it. There wasn't a window and it was pitch black when the door was closed. I spied a cord that was hanging down hear where the lights were on the wall. I figured that was the light "switch" so I pulled it. There was an awful high pitched piercing noise. I freaked out and promptly pulled it again. The noise stopped. I decided to pee in darkness. When I got back to the room (which was just two doors down from the bathroom) Dave asked me what the noise was. I told him I pulled an unknown cord. The next day I found the light switch (which was located outside the actual room-who does that?!) and I saw there was a sign near the cord advising against pulling it unless it was an emergency. It was a fire alarm.
~One of the nights in Rome we were awoken by an earthquake. I woke up because my bed was shaking. I rolled over and looked at Dave. He said "earthquake" and I nodded and rolled back over and went back to sleep. It's funny how that works because the next morning Dave said the people in the room next to us must have never been in an earthquake before because they were walking up and down the hall all frantic like. I had to laugh at that. I mean, I've been in a earthquake before, not one that I vividly remember. I used to live in California for crying out loud. I guess I learned from my family there what a scary earthquake is supposed to be like. The one in Rome was not scary.
~Our last Italian meal together, me and Dave decided to sit down at a nice little restaurant. We found this little place in an area of Rome that we'd never been to. It was a nice little place and while we were waiting, a cute little kid came with his mom to visit. Apparently the head chef in the kitchen was this little boy's grandma. Adorable. Anyway, we got red wine and two different types of pasta. Freaking delicious. They had real cloth napkins too. Well, after drinking some red wine I wiped my mouth on the white napkin. A slew of purple schmutz came off my lips onto the napkin. I was grossed out and showed Dave. He then tried it too. He also had a bucket of schmutz come off on his napkin. Hilarious.
~One day we decided to walk around all the places of Rome we hadn't seen yet. We walked and walked until we got to this little plaza where two street performers were just beginning their act. They were from Chili (I believe) and they spoke English, Spanish and Italian. They were hilarious! I took a few video clips which I will be putting up soon, I promise. Dave thought they were good enough to give two Euro to. Yes, they were that good.
Links to buckets and buckets of Rome pictures:
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2359183&id=15933734&l=6068b9481b
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2359247&id=15933734&l=3f9f0e0439
I suppose the truly last segment of the adventures with Dave is London but I'll be honest, Dave and I weren't really impressed with London. It had a lot to do with the fact that we were tired from traveling (we'd just spent 10 days in Italy!) and it was coldish there. Well much colder than Italy. It was nice but it was also very fast paced. I was over picture taking too but there are some pictures:
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2359252&id=15933734&l=8a743066d6
One thing to mention: We did stay in a hostel that was a converted courthouse. We stayed in a room that was once a jail cell. It was actually really kind of cool.
~Me and Dave saw a guy get hit by a car. Not a huge, flip in the air, smack!-here's-the-Italian-ambulances type of hit but hit nonetheless. We were walking down a narrow street (the only kind of street in Italy it seems) and this guy was walking pretty much in the middle of the road. A car came down the street. It wasn't barreling or anything like that, it was actually probably going about 9 miles per hour, if I had to guess. Well, the guy failed to move and the car clipped his arm. The car stopped, the driver half stepped out and apologized and then kept going. It was crazy though. I can check seeing a guy get hit by a car off my list of things I've seen in my life.
~There was a moment in Rome where me and Dave witnessed two very different things. I saw a dad (presumably) pushing his baby in a stroller get caught on the curb because he didn't quite get on the slopey part of the sidewalk, which caused the stroller to basically rack him. Dave saw a little Italian baby upon the moment of impact with the curb say "Ai!" This transaction became a regular laugh out loud joke for me and Dave from that moment on. Mostly because the baby said "Ai!" If that baby would have been English speaking, you can bet money that it would have said something different. There would be a difference between an English baby and an American baby even. But there's something about "Ai!" that makes it seem like something a baby wouldn't say. Whatever it is, it was hilarious.
~So me and Dave went to the Colosseum and we spent the better part of an hour there. Probably longer actually. We got there right as it was opening because we didn't want to have to wait in line forever. After we spent time looking at all the awesome ruins, we walked to the park that was near the Colosseum. It was a lovely little park and we took some decent pictures of the Colosseum there. Then we decided to walk to these other ruins that were located on the opposite side. To get there we had to walk through the front of the Colosseum. By that point, there was a slew of people there. As we walked along, a woman came up to us. She asked if we spoke English and if we'd like to go on a tour of the Colosseum, it would only cost one arm and one leg. We declined; we'd just seen it! We got two more offers just like that one in about 10 seconds. After the third one, we decided to pretend that we spoke Spanish only, lying when they asked if we spoke English. We spied another tour giver. As we walked past her she asked "Habla Espanol?" We said no and kept walking. We started to laugh and contemplate the odds of that happening. What are the chances of the next person speaking a language we were pretending to speak?! I then suggested we pretend that we only spoke Swahili because I could remember some I learned in the sixth grade. Dave said no because he couldn't handle the next tour guide asking us if we spoke Swahili.
~The day we went to see the Vatican Museum and St. Peter's Church, me and Dave were very hungry but we couldn't decide what sounded good. We walked through this area called Campo di Fiori (a place we'd walked through a lot while we were in Rome). There are a bunch of food places there (including the BEST pizza ever). We couldn't find anything that we wanted so we walked down this little alleyway. After being prepositioned by a guy trying to get us into his restaurant, a preposition we almost took, we walked by this little shining light. It said "Taqueria." Dave was like "Is that what I think it is?" We walked in and there were little brown Hispanic ladies ready to serve us burritos! We were so excited; it was exactly what we wanted to eat. The ladies behind the counter only spoke Italian and Spanish, two languages me and Dave were mediocre in. It was so weird because I kept trying to think of how to say things in Spanish but because I had been thinking Italian for the past week, it just came out as Italian. So we spoke Spalian- Spanish Italian. Similar to Spanglish. It was crazy.
~The same day we saw the Colosseum, me and Dave walked to this one museum that was near all the ruins. On the way there, there was a guy dressed up as a shepherd. He was supposed to be like those living statues you find in cities. Except he was creepier. He stopped Dave and shook his hand. He then offered his hand to me. Personally I wanted to run away but I knew it would be rude not to shake his hand so I took his hand and shook it. Only when I went to let go, he didn't. He pulled me close and commanded Dave to take a picture. Dave figured it would be faster if he just took the picture, rather than protesting. He snapped a picture of me looking just about as uncomfortable as any one person can get. Then we walked away, me at a slightly quicker pace.
~On our last full day in Rome, me and Dave went to the Piazza del Popolo. It had a huge obelisk and a pretty fountain. While we were taking pictures of the statues, this guy came up with a bunch of roses. I immediately thought this guy would want some money from us; we'd been routinely accosted by street merchants trying to sell us stuff that were essentially piles of crap. He started to talk to Dave-Dave's a very friendly guy-and he tried to give me two roses. I declined at first. What the hell would I do with roses? He was persistent and shoved the roses into my hand, saying "Italian good luck." I took them, thinking he might not want anything for them. We didn't have money to give him and I didn't really want the roses in the first place. He then quietly asks Dave for a "little something" for the roses. Dave said he didn't have anything. I said he could have his Italian good luck back. He kept hinting at money to Dave and Dave kept saying he didn't have any. Defeated, the guy snatched the roses back and walked away. Yes, snatched. I laughed with Dave. We sat on the fountain watching all these guys with roses strike out with every person they tried to "give" them to. We then talked about how these guys seemed to have large stones, if you will, because they essentially demanded money for things people don't even want in the first place.
~The first night we stayed in our hotel in Rome, I had trouble finding the light switch for the bathroom. I looked and looked but I couldn't find it. There wasn't a window and it was pitch black when the door was closed. I spied a cord that was hanging down hear where the lights were on the wall. I figured that was the light "switch" so I pulled it. There was an awful high pitched piercing noise. I freaked out and promptly pulled it again. The noise stopped. I decided to pee in darkness. When I got back to the room (which was just two doors down from the bathroom) Dave asked me what the noise was. I told him I pulled an unknown cord. The next day I found the light switch (which was located outside the actual room-who does that?!) and I saw there was a sign near the cord advising against pulling it unless it was an emergency. It was a fire alarm.
~One of the nights in Rome we were awoken by an earthquake. I woke up because my bed was shaking. I rolled over and looked at Dave. He said "earthquake" and I nodded and rolled back over and went back to sleep. It's funny how that works because the next morning Dave said the people in the room next to us must have never been in an earthquake before because they were walking up and down the hall all frantic like. I had to laugh at that. I mean, I've been in a earthquake before, not one that I vividly remember. I used to live in California for crying out loud. I guess I learned from my family there what a scary earthquake is supposed to be like. The one in Rome was not scary.
~Our last Italian meal together, me and Dave decided to sit down at a nice little restaurant. We found this little place in an area of Rome that we'd never been to. It was a nice little place and while we were waiting, a cute little kid came with his mom to visit. Apparently the head chef in the kitchen was this little boy's grandma. Adorable. Anyway, we got red wine and two different types of pasta. Freaking delicious. They had real cloth napkins too. Well, after drinking some red wine I wiped my mouth on the white napkin. A slew of purple schmutz came off my lips onto the napkin. I was grossed out and showed Dave. He then tried it too. He also had a bucket of schmutz come off on his napkin. Hilarious.
~One day we decided to walk around all the places of Rome we hadn't seen yet. We walked and walked until we got to this little plaza where two street performers were just beginning their act. They were from Chili (I believe) and they spoke English, Spanish and Italian. They were hilarious! I took a few video clips which I will be putting up soon, I promise. Dave thought they were good enough to give two Euro to. Yes, they were that good.
Links to buckets and buckets of Rome pictures:
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2359183&id=15933734&l=6068b9481b
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2359247&id=15933734&l=3f9f0e0439
I suppose the truly last segment of the adventures with Dave is London but I'll be honest, Dave and I weren't really impressed with London. It had a lot to do with the fact that we were tired from traveling (we'd just spent 10 days in Italy!) and it was coldish there. Well much colder than Italy. It was nice but it was also very fast paced. I was over picture taking too but there are some pictures:
www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2359252&id=15933734&l=8a743066d6
One thing to mention: We did stay in a hostel that was a converted courthouse. We stayed in a room that was once a jail cell. It was actually really kind of cool.
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