saturn's day

ah, my first dumpy day in italia. it was bound to happen right? i wore what i like to call my flared, fitted yoga pants, but are really just sweatpants. i'm pretty sure i was the only person in the entire country wearing sweatpants. i am dead serious.

last night was just a little, how you say, fuckin crazy? (sorry i curse so much. if that bothers anyone..uh...sorry?..) we went to several bars and ended up at a disco where ramzi had put us on the VIP list. (RAMZI IS CRAZY). it was mostly middle-aged people doing tango, so we kind of pasted ourselves to the bar. so the rest of the night is self-explanatory ya? (there was this 45 year old man from south carolina there hitting on all the girls. um, no. i just...no.)

today i woke up remarkably early in my new bed. oh i should mention! i moved. one of the guys in the program realllllly wanted a single room, so i was like for sure dude, bring your snowpants ya? but it's cool. i live in a SICK apartment now with 6 other girls. it used to be a b&b so everyone has their own bathroom AND we totally mooch off our neighbor's free wireless. AND RAMZI BROUGHT ME A SPACE HEATER. thank you baby jesus (i accidentally said that the other night to people i had just met. uhh..).

so i woke up early and went to the market with two friends. purchase: pears, chocolate, cheese, broccoli, oranges. receive free from elderly cheese man with adorable, adorable round face: warm foccacia.
go to post office to sign immigration form. was told to report at 11. half the program went at 9 and by 11 most are still waiting. being the only "Y" in the group i am told it will be another 2 hours at least. some people and i duck out for a cafe.
drink a cappacino, the closet thing they have here to actual coffee. receive free piece of cake-like thing. these italians like to give you lots of free shit. si si!
return to post office. it has closed for siesta. knock on door and am told by woman to leave. "studente! studente!" i shout through the glass, as instructed. i am grudgingly let in. these peple take their siesta seriously.
trot over to friend's adorable apartment, complete with terrace and lofts where they sleep, for cannoli. i should mention eating here is a pretty constant thing. since this has been my lifelong dream, i pretty much love it. find copy of augusten burrough's running with scissors in english. day made.
come back to apartment. realize mt. etna field trip is same weekend as half marathon. bummer. decide there is no way i am missing getting up close to an active volcano to, you know, exert myself physically.
talk to alena on the phone. compare the quantities of ham in our respective countries. hint: it is everywhere.
DO NOT SLEEP DURING SIESTA. WHAT HAVE I BECOME? (i tell you. someone who functions on very little sleep. so weird.)
go to grocery store. attempt to buy a box of cream thinking it is a box of bread crumbs. i am a child.
my roommate cooks a massive dinner for 35. everyone from school, from all programs, comes over. i plant myself far away from the wine. fun!

now: most people are at a bar. i have confiscated my roommate's snuggie and will be rooting myself to the couch. definition of dump, si? i love it.

PS-ramzi and i took a taxi to my new apartment yesterday when i moved. the taxi driver pops in a CD. IT IS RAMZI SINGING. THIS MAN OWNS THIS ENTIRE ISLAND. I SWEAR.