the fish

allow me to set the scene:
write about me! (that was alena's contribution. grazi)
but okay. back to the scene:
directly ahead of me there is a painting of a fish.
behind me a long banquet table littered with half-empty wine bottles and remnants of a not-so-childhood-game called drUNO.
out a window to my right is a cafe where cappucinos go for 3 euro, more for table service...
and to my left, outside, is my own private moat!
i am certainly in venice.

so okay. from above, venice looks like a fish. which is hilarious. because there is a lot of water here. alot. what i mean is, my boots still haven't dried from a rather uneventful romp in the canals 48 hours ago. but you know what they say: when in venice, accept the fact that there will be clowns on every corner, and also the fact that your feet won't be dry for your entire visit.
which is fine. because i'm in venice! and guess what. so is angelina jolie. and brad pitt. and shiloh and crew. the guy who runs my hostel claims to have seen them this morning. he is also a huge liar, so i do not feel bad about accidentally acquiring 7 sets of sheets instead of the allowed...1. but that's okay.
my friend joanna and i got here thursday after a solid ten hours of traveling. i brought the following things to venice: one t shirt (which was on my person), a sequin dress, patent leather heels, a cardigan. so fearful of the baggage restrictions on my little budget airline was i that i forwent anything other than the (duh) basic nessecities. and so used to the suddenly 75 degree weather in syracuse that i (duh) didn't bring a jacket. because i was going to venice. and so was angie!
my sister alena flew in from seville, her friends from school came in from nice and grenada, and my best friend from home came in from grenoble. which was insane in itself. now imagine this raucous crew being led all over the city at midnight by an afghani guide trying to get us to a bar and in turn leading us across several foot-deep flooded streets and you can begin to picture the experience thus far. which is truly strange, a little creepy, consistantly waterlogged and actually incredible.
i wish i could outline the exact details that i have been fervently keeping alive in my mind all day in order to record them at a later date (journal = extra weight = mad euros = rapid fire sensory overload) and i would recount them to you if i thought any of you would find them the slightest bit interesting (for example, i'm sure you don't want to know the intracacies of the difference between the sicilian cannoli and the venician cannoli, although i'll just go ahead and tell you sicily owns). so i will say simply the following:
being away from my little town has made it truly and miraculously materialize into home.

don't get me wrong, this place is insane. and it has nudged my senses just so, so that i feel constantly as if traversing the front of a postcard. and it has brought me together with my friends and sister with whom i am content to sit with a cappucino and talk for hours as water laps at my feet...(can you drink the tap water? do you have to tip? how hot, exactly, is this host brother of yours?)...
which has been a truly cathartic experience.

tomorrow we head to milan (big city slicker, i know) of which i only know what i saw on the way in, at night, which i would guess sums it up:
a girl, dressed to the nines, on a slick bike.
texting.
on the highway.
in a tunnel.
go milan.

and then it's back to this little island which for a while there, teetered dangerously on the edge of my comfort zone. but now has blossomed into this peculiar little habitat...close to...home.
something in the water?