undici giorno

Saturday, May 14, 2011

The beach was to die for today! I couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend the day. We were there from about 12 to 3 and then stopped at a little café on the way back to the train. I spent 1.50 Euro on the yummiest slice of pizza ever! It was so worth it to finally get a meal I could enjoy! I think my eyes may have even rolled into the back of my head a couple times… It has been that long without a solid, yummy meal. I’ve about had it with the hotel food, so that authentic Italian pizza slice really hit the spot!

Dinner tonight was awful so Steve took us all out for gelato to make up for it. Mmm. It’s seriously heaven on earth. I get Lemon and White Chocolate every time; they’re my fav! I can’t seem to step out on them to try something new. My loyalty lies with love at first sight!

After gelato, I came home and did my laundry... In the sink! Long story short, one thing lead to another, and I ended up with some new clothes! I accidently and absent-mindedly washed my tie-dyed shirt with my other clothes and my once-white shirt is now blue and my yellow running tank is now green. Oh the joys of being domestic. All I can say is that I know why God didn’t make me a boy and never sent me on a mission to a third world country. Oh and that Gage and I better find an apartment with a washer and dryer or we’re going to have some wardrobe tragedies for the books! It took me over an hour to wash just my underwear, pajamas, and work-out clothes… And I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sore tomorrow. Gold’s has never worked my arms the way the wet clothes in that bathroom sink did! Hand-washed laundry officially kicked my trash!

I almost died on the subway the other day. After a week of using the germ-infested bars to stabilize myself, I thought I could roll like a big-shot and ride with no hands! Obviously, I spoke too soon when I had my feet planted on the floor but we took a swift corner and my weight was shifted. Now, you’ve got to understand how many people there are packed in these trains. And how dirty and smelly they all are. We’re packed like sardines… And the locals smell like sardines, too! I lost my balance and reached for the bar above my head, but missed and was falling straight into Kiahna, who was sitting right below the bar. Kiahna was too busy hysterically laughing to help me, so I landed straight on top of her before there was another quick turn in the opposite direction that had me flailing my arms and shuffling on my feet backwards into a seated row of people who were neither nice nor clean. I don’t remember this, but Lindsey brought it to my attention that I spent the whole time yelling, “Shit! Shit! Shit!” as I was being flung around the metro. I seriously don’t ever remember being so afraid. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, this old, hairy man in a trench coat started pushing through the crowd toward me. He grabbed me just seconds before I bathed in Italian sweat and pummeled over some burley looking women. No kidding, his arm appeared out of nowhere and picked me up and set me down steady again. My face was bright read and I was so embarrassed. I thanked him a million times and he just kept saying, “It can be dangerous.” Every pair of eyes on that train was on me. I’ve spent the last 10 days trying to get the snooty people of Italy to crack a smile and have had no luck. No matter how many times I make eye contact with them and smile, I never saw the slightest hint of friendliness or affection. After my tragedy that day, every boring, impersonal Italian was smiling and laughing at me. I guess you need to be careful what you wish for! I was the center of attention and they were all amused. It took a while for my heart-beat to slow down and my flushed face to simmer. As embarrassed as I was, we were all hysterically laughing for hours afterwards. Leave it to me to come all this way to make a fool of myself all around the globe!

There are a million men of an undeclared-race that roam Italy and try to sell awful, pointless little toys and souvenirs. Arab, Bangladeshi, Indian, Middle Eastern… Whatever they are, they’re like a gnat at a barbeque. They’re always up in our face or hanging over our shoulder incessantly trying to sell us bouncy-balls, bubble-guns, bracelets, or umbrellas. They will stop at nothing! So, we were standing in the middle of town and Amy pulled out her sandwich and started going to town on it. All of a sudden, one of these Arabs comes creeping over her shoulder and says, “Hey Baby! Shaka-laka boom boom! You sexy!!!” Amy still had her sandwich in her mouth and was looking at him out of the corner of her eye as he was scamming on her from over her shoulder. I swatted him off and yelled, “Leave her alone!” and pulled Ames away from him. He didn’t take his eyes off of her chest the entire time he was talking. He was a slimey little man, but we all couldn’t deny how funny it was. We were all laughing so hard! I can’t count how many times we’ve quoted that guy and thrown “Shaka-laka boom boom!” into conversation wherever we can! Seriously… who says that?? What a game-winning pick-up line!

It’s late here, my sunburn is putting me to sleep, and I’m afraid to find out what Mom will do if I send another email late again, so I’m going to hurry and cut this short and bid thee farewell.

Ti voglio bene, familia!

Always,

Wit